It is amazing how a fairly decent menú del dia of fish soup, cod in creamy spinach sauce and turron ice-cream washed down with a cheap and cheerful red wine can mitigate the debilitating effects of spending almost twelve hours in school.
The after school meeting (after losing a non-contact period; doing a duty and photocopying as if the photocopier was going to self-destruct at any moment) was easily worse than any imagining could have made it and I didn’t manage to get home until after 8.00 pm.
I have spoken of these interminable meetings before and I can only say the membrane which separates the dull-eyed listener to teacher-speak from raving maniac is becoming thinner each time I subject myself to the ordeal of being, much like Jeremy Bentham in London University meetings, “present but non-voting.”
I am quite sure that even if I could understand fully what was going on I would be no more enthusiastic about my presence in these mystic gatherings where runes are studied as sheaves of papers are shuffled mysteriously around the table.
Today there were three (or possibly four) members of staff absent and the difficulties of covering classes when there is very little slack in the system was made obvious. “Luckily” as I had already lost a free period there was little scope to take another period (after the two taken last week) so I was relatively lucky and managed to make some time to accommodate preparation for some lessons.
One lesson disappeared in a film show. The equivalent of my second year sixth was suddenly joined with another class and shown the first half of “Slumdog Millionaire”. This is not a film I have previously seen and I settled down to enjoy an unexpected treat – or at least as much of a treat as a group of stir-crazy students who are already on holiday in their minds if not in their bodies!
Frankly, I couldn’t care less, as long as I get to see the second part of the film tomorrow.
My initial response is positive, but not as enthusiastic as I expected it to be from the reviews. The structure of the film is composed largely of flashbacks, stretching into the childhood of the eponymous “Slumdog” as the reasons why he was able to answer the series of questions on ‘Who Want To Be A Millionaire’ are illustrated with incidents from his youth.
The conceit of the film is gently amusing and constantly stimulating and the portrayal of a particular sort of life in modern India is presented with shocking realism – it is easy to see why the Indian authorities were deeply critical of the portrayal of the country in this film. I look forward to the continuation tomorrow.
I think that I and my colleagues are entering the ‘bone tired’ stage of term in which the remaining four days in school are going to be something of a trial.
On the other hand the new battery in my mini-laptop is showing remarkable resilience and actually living up to its promise of six hours of power.
Like not much else in life, this is one time when something actually ‘does what it says on the box!’
The after school meeting (after losing a non-contact period; doing a duty and photocopying as if the photocopier was going to self-destruct at any moment) was easily worse than any imagining could have made it and I didn’t manage to get home until after 8.00 pm.
I have spoken of these interminable meetings before and I can only say the membrane which separates the dull-eyed listener to teacher-speak from raving maniac is becoming thinner each time I subject myself to the ordeal of being, much like Jeremy Bentham in London University meetings, “present but non-voting.”
I am quite sure that even if I could understand fully what was going on I would be no more enthusiastic about my presence in these mystic gatherings where runes are studied as sheaves of papers are shuffled mysteriously around the table.
Today there were three (or possibly four) members of staff absent and the difficulties of covering classes when there is very little slack in the system was made obvious. “Luckily” as I had already lost a free period there was little scope to take another period (after the two taken last week) so I was relatively lucky and managed to make some time to accommodate preparation for some lessons.
One lesson disappeared in a film show. The equivalent of my second year sixth was suddenly joined with another class and shown the first half of “Slumdog Millionaire”. This is not a film I have previously seen and I settled down to enjoy an unexpected treat – or at least as much of a treat as a group of stir-crazy students who are already on holiday in their minds if not in their bodies!
Frankly, I couldn’t care less, as long as I get to see the second part of the film tomorrow.
My initial response is positive, but not as enthusiastic as I expected it to be from the reviews. The structure of the film is composed largely of flashbacks, stretching into the childhood of the eponymous “Slumdog” as the reasons why he was able to answer the series of questions on ‘Who Want To Be A Millionaire’ are illustrated with incidents from his youth.
The conceit of the film is gently amusing and constantly stimulating and the portrayal of a particular sort of life in modern India is presented with shocking realism – it is easy to see why the Indian authorities were deeply critical of the portrayal of the country in this film. I look forward to the continuation tomorrow.
I think that I and my colleagues are entering the ‘bone tired’ stage of term in which the remaining four days in school are going to be something of a trial.
On the other hand the new battery in my mini-laptop is showing remarkable resilience and actually living up to its promise of six hours of power.
Like not much else in life, this is one time when something actually ‘does what it says on the box!’
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