Little by little!

Time ticks on in this slowest of all ends to a tired term.

The dawns, which I watch from the eyrie of the staff room in building 1 become progressively more spectacular with a great swathe of ochre orange splashed across the sky sandwiched between bands of black and dirty purple lapsing into a military looking blue-grey, until the sun finally arrives in all its resplendent vulgarity.

Today is my six period day giving me no pause for thought to dwell on what the management might say tomorrow in the meeting (after school of course!) to tell us just how much worse off we are going to be in the future.  A future that looks increasingly precarious for the country let alone for a privileged, though for this sector, a fairly considerate school like ours.

Taking my cue from Marie Antoinette I am rising above the chaos all around me by steadily listening to the half price EMI operas that I bought from El Corte Ingles.  “Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk” yesterday and “The Turn of the Screw” today.  Both of these are splendid productions with excellent voices and a world away from the screeching unmusicality of a highlights of “Turandot” I suffered last week with a cast of consonant heavy eastern Europeans with ululating vibratos whose visual representations would not have looked out of place in a vertiginous ride in a Disney theme park.  One of my more laboured metaphors there!

It may be psychological rather than medicinal, but I do feel marginally better this morning after a few puffs of my new inhaler and I look forward to continued improvement so that I can break the series of Christmas Days when I have been feeling hors de combat.  Our Christmas meals are so delicious it is a culinary crime to miss out on any morsel!

Now that the sky has turned colour yet again and the military greys have become soft violets or mauves I think it is time for my start-of-the-day cup of tea.

The staff room of building one is at least partially removed from the morning scream of children.  We are one floor up and at least two if not three closed doors away from their piercing voices, so the start of the day here is not so trying as it is in the other staff room where the separation of kids from staff is non-existent.

To my mind there is nothing worse than the easy acceptance of pupils entering the staff room.  In this school pupils seem to think that they have an absolute right of entry.  Part of the problem is that the pupils’ “breakfast” is kept in the staff rooms for pupils’ representatives to collect for the morning break.  This should not happen, but I seem to be one of the few teachers who are even remotely concerned about it.  But let it pass, let it pass.  There is the meeting on Wednesday to worry about which puts the appearance of pupils’ faces into perspective.

The last two periods today were less stressful than normal with the pupils shunted into the computer room for the last period trying to analyse the shots used to produce commercials.  Nothing like making the pupils think!

The hours left in work are rapidly (I’m saying that to convince myself) dwindling and the glorious release of the holidays is well within sight.

The remaining horror is the reality of what might be said in the meeting tomorrow when the full extent of the parsimony of the school and government are laid open for inspection.  I still have residual faith in the school doing the right thing – though what the right thing to do is at this time is not entirely clear.

Tomorrow will clarify the position and give me pause for thought.

Something to do

Well, one day down and only three to go.  Though that “only” does not see so insignificant as it might suggest!

My continuing and thoroughly tedious story of low level but mildly decapitating illness has now driven me to a further consultation with the doctor.  This visit was made into a necessity after the depressing day of relentless teaching and a lunchtime duty – oh yes, and a meeting at the end of lunchtime as well.

I called into the doctors after school and asked for an appointment which, surprisingly I was given for ten past six in the evening.

I returned to the surgery after a swift visit home and I was seen first!  Some things do happen properly.

I am now the proud possessor of two inhalers which are going to give me medication for the next month.  It has been decided that my little cough be upgraded to bronchitis with my next appointment being on Friday to see what progress I have made.  At no point in the consultation did I hear the suggestion that “time off” might be part of the treatment.  There is no justice in this harsh world!

My mild inconvenience is as nothing when compared to what is probably about to happen in school.

The government has been suggesting and hinting about their response to the crisis with regard to the teaching profession.  As our school is substantially supported by grants from the Generalitat we are probably going to part of the way in which this bankrupt country is going to try and extricate itself from some of the financial chaos which its own mismanagement has created.

Teachers have already been subject to something like a 5% cut in salary which our own school made up from the Foundation funds so that no teacher had a reduction.  Any further reduction will probably not be compensated for by Foundation funds and working out the exact proportions of money to be reduced will be difficult.

The school will be presented with an incredibly difficult problem because they will not want to reduce the salary of any one teacher, but if the funds are not available from the government then some sort of discrimination will be difficult to avoid.

I am expecting that our “extra” pay will be delayed or perhaps even reduced.  Speculation is rife within my own brain, but my colleagues seem strangely subdued in their expectations.  Wednesday should illuminate some of the darker corners of the government’s financial mind – if indeed it has anything approaching a coherent plan about what to do.

It is typical of management that such important information is to be relayed to the workers on the day before a holiday.  How well I remember such tactics being used with boring regularity in Britain.  Nothing changes.

But I do at least hope that the drugs that I now have in an unholy cocktail will do something to shift the mucus soaked cough ridden ill health which I find so tedious at the moment.

Coughing Continues

FRIDAY 16^TH DECEMBER 2011

Arriving home to a new-cameraless house is a dispiriting experience.  I checked again in my emails and ascertained that the item had been “handed over to carriers” in Spain five days previously.  Five days is surely enough to deliver one small package!

Toni, as usual, suggested a practical course of action: phoning the company.  Unable to find the details on Amazon’s “complete” list of carriers but the Internet, as ever, provided the dire news that the carrier is one with which I have had similar unsatisfactory experiences before.

After trying various telephone numbers we were at last able to find out that, yes, the item was in the carrier’s Castelldefels office and of course they had left a note informing us that they had attempted to deliver the package.  And if there was no note then it was perhaps the large letter box on the pillar of the front gate, just under the “B” of the torre of the house, was impossible to see by the hard working deliverer.  Or, if we didn’t like that obviously false excuse then it was Amazon’s fault.

As our past experience of this carrier is that its operatives are a little less than honest and scrupulous in their deliveries – casually throwing packages with fragile contents over the front wall and leaving notes (!) for non-response when people have been at home.  We always end up trying to find a parking space in the congested area around the office in the centre of Castelldefels.  I feel the futility of making a fuss when I am there and the desire to get my hands on the package always outweighs the expression of frustration that I should make as a response to the incompetence that they constantly show.

The end result of the telephone calls was that we went in person to pick up the goodies and then had a meal in a corner restaurant that we had tried (and dismissed) once before.  In an exceptional demonstration of magnanimity we decided to give it a second chance.

We had a series of tapas including a very cold and oddly tasting Russian Salad and a thoroughly delicious Pulpo Gallego served traditionally on a wooden round accompanied by some potatoes cooked in the Gallician style.  All this was washed down with a more than decent Rioja diluted by Casera to make it seem reasonable and positively abstemious!  It was quite pricey at €45 but I think we can let it re-join the list of the favoured establishments that we sometime patronize.  Though the expense may limit our attendance.

The worst thing about gaining a gadget in the short term is the amount of time necessary for the battery of the damn thing to charge.  The tiny red light on my camera stubbornly refused to extinguish itself in spite of my constant trips to the kitchen where the machine was soaking up power from one of the three pin sockets that take British plugs.

I did eventually get my hands on the little beauty and it is a delight.  It is small, as befits a device that is now in direct competition with mobile phones.  The improvement of the mobile phone as a picture taking machine has compromised the utility of a separate camera and therefore the newest cameras have to contend with increasingly sophisticated gadgets like the i-phone 4 (S) which offers a whole suite of editing possibilities as well as the computer facilities – not to mention a phone!

My new Samsung looks more like a phone than a camera and it is only when the thing is switched on the lens emerges that its single function is made clear.

Its touch screen and icon led capabilities have only been tentatively explored by me at the moment but, as I have brought it to school, I took advantage of a high vantage point and a particularly spectacular dawn to take my first “proper” photograph!

The USP of this camera is the fact that it has a screen which can be tilted to 180° which, I am reliably informed, facilitates the taking of accurate, well centred low level and over-the-head shots.  There is also a satisfyingly large number of icons which allow the image to be played with.  I do have another camera which is larger and bulkier which does the same sort of thing, but this one appears to be better, more sophisticated and a damn sight smaller. 

The real test, of course, will be with my on-going attempt to take a satisfactory fireworks photograph.  With dawn safely on the memory card can pyrotechnics be far behind?  I am itching to try every aspect of the machine out, but I am constrained by the presence of colleagues to keep it to myself – as I rather expected I would have to.  I am, however, going to flaunt it in my Current Affairs class under the specious topic of “Gadgets – do we need them?”

Well, I did get to show off my camera and the discussion was interesting, at least it passed the time and that is one thing which has been dragging throughout this week which started with the horror of consecutive meetings on the first two days after school.  I don’t think we as a staff have actually recovered from those yet.  It will take a holiday just to get back to normal.

Next week is, at last, the final week of term – just another four days until Thursday and then release!  This final week was not made any more tolerable by Paul 1 phoning up to let me know that he had just broken up for the holidays!

SATURDAY 17^TH DECEMBER 2011

The feeling of wellness was further away today.  In spite of the pills and lotions that I have gulped down I am feeling still below par.  This is clearly not fair and I am becoming more and more worried as soon I am going to be ill in my own time.  It is one thing to be unwell during the weekend, it is quite another to be misfiring on one or more cylinders during a proper holiday.

We did manage to go out for an excellent lunch and I did manage to take some photographs, though putting them in the body of an email seems to be something which is simply too difficult to accomplish.  I have even been on You Tube to get the advice of the under tens who seem to command authority on that benighted site.  Nothing works.

A generally miserable day and early to bed in the hope that the morrow will dawn bright and that I might follow it.

SUNDAY 18^TH DECEMBER 2011

A lie in but still no real improvement.  I think that another visit to the Quack is called for, certainly before Christmas and the general cessation of activity which that festival entails.

I have noticed that the engine in my car is racing when I accelerate.  I have no idea what this means except that I am sure that it entails my throwing large sums of money at surly mechanics.  I hate spending money on a car when you have already bought the bloody thing almost as much as I resent buying cleaning fluid: necessary but hardly interesting.

Toni and I are now snuffling and coughing in a demented way that reminds me of the more harmonious sections of that extended joke of an opera I went to see recently - Le Grand Macabre.  The way we are both feeling at the moment do chime in with the more noisy end-of-the-world manifestations that clumsy piece tinkered with.

The only clearly positive thing that has happened today is that Barça have won the title of World Champion Club Side.  This is good is two ways: not only because Barça have won, but also because Real Madrid have not.  I await with pleasurable anticipation the snarlingly petty whinings of the coach of Real Madrid who I think has a genuine gift for comedy in the manner of Max Wall!

Tomorrow is the start of the final week of term which will be truncated by the fact that we finish on the 22^nd of December and therefore Friday will be the start of our holidays.

There is almost a tangible fear in our place that this last week may descend into some sort of Saturnalian orgy of education-free enjoyment for the kids so tests, timed essays and photocopies of extra work are being marshalled so that no element of jollity informs our woefully extended days.

The last day of term is always a struggle.  I can remember the admonishments of successive headteachers who were firm believer in the “teach until the end” theory of pupil containment – mainly of course because they were not the ones doing the teaching.

I think that even we do “something” on the last day of term with kids exchanging “Secret Santa” presents; a football tournament, and even a film.  I will, of course have other duties (cough allowing) and will see to keep as great a distance as possible between me and pupils en mass.  I also have a free period during the last period of the day and I am damned if I am going to give that up to help some dreary concession to the season.  I cannot wait for the moment of release and I shall ritually kick the dust off my feet until next year.

Four more days!

Magic!

Toni, as he mentioned forcibly to the doctor who was speaking to him at the end of his particularly pointless series of rehabilitation exercises on his faulty knee, had been waiting for a magnetic resonance scan for one month and twenty days.  He cut through the vacuous pleasantries of the woman and made the strength of his displeasure obvious.  He was then assured that the hospital would be contacted and that the hospital would contact him either on the same day or the next without fail.  If failure there was then he was to ring the hospital and speak directly to the person involved.

My arrival home (to no new camera!) was taken up with a discussion about Toni’s experiences for the first hour or so and our general dismissal of the managerial approach to expensive resources.  We both agreed that something like a magnetic resonance scanner should be operated virtually 24 hours a day and we would be prepared to go at five o’clock in the morning is that was when the machine was available.

To change our mood and to bring an end to the bitter recriminations about the health of the health service in Spain and the general level of corruption that we felt motivated everyone and everything we went out to a local fast food joint and had some comfort food!

When we were driving home, Toni’s mobile started ringing.  It was the hospital asking if Toni could get to the hospital at once and they had an opportunity to get him done.

We went, but all the way there we speculated on the fact that if this could suddenly be arranged on the day that Toni made a fuss in rehab. perhaps it could have been arranged one month and twenty days ago just as easily!  After all if the machine has a quota of ten patients a day, it is almost certain that at least one of them will cancel on the day itself and another will simply not turn up, thereby giving spaces which someone like Toni would have been eager and available to fill.

Still, the scan has now been done and we should (and are) grateful.  There is now a week’s delay and the scan should be ready to be interpreted and we will have a clearer idea of what exactly is wrong with Toni’s knee.  And that, surely, is the start of real improvement.  I hope.

Meanwhile this interminable week drags its tortuous way along without the bright spot of playing around with a new camera.  I know that I should not have built any hopes on a “three day delivery” as being anything other than a series of connected pixels on a computer screen, but I did and I am bitterly disappointed that I do not have my latest gadget to hand with which to play or experiment as I should say.

We are leading up to the Maths Department Photography Competition which I force my colleagues to enter because we are seeking to stymie the relentless success of one of my senior colleagues who until fairly recently seemed to have a monopoly of staff prizes.  Last year we broke the sequence with a colleague in the English Department walking away with the laurels.  This is something we hope to repeat this year!  My new gadget will be extensively used to find that elusive winner in our “Anyone Other Than X” approach to the competition!

All entries are printed out and exhibited in a small exhibition in the new building of the secondary section of the school.  The winners of each section of the competition are sent to the regional final of the competition for Barcelona so here is the chance of fame and glory awaiting the most proficient.

Having spoken to the maths teacher it appears that the titles of the photographs are more important than the actual picture itself.  Points are obviously awarded for the specious linking of a random picture with some mathematical concept.  I have a long held ambition to produce a photograph to illustrate the solution used to solve quadratic equations but, in spite of repeated request to those who should know, I have been given little help in trying to find a subject that provides a graphic equivalent.  I shall continue to search and, as soon as I get my hand on my new camera, snap!

There continues to be no sense of the Festive Season in school, which makes this endless week seem even longer.  As far as I can tell there is little or no concession to Christmas in the plans for next week apart from the last day of term when chaos will reign supreme and I will rise in all my red splendour as the Scarlet King of Misrule.  Though I think that such an interpretation of the role might go a little way above the heads of the miniscule foetal children who are my target audience.

It will be interesting to compare the reactions of Spanish children with the little kids of British staff who have been my previous victims.   In my experience, no matter how Jolly you appear to be the character is usually enough in itself to provoke floods of tears in some children and their despairing rush to the comforting arms of teachers.  We shall see.

Escape!

Pleading ill health I fled from the meeting yesterday when, after an hour and a half we had only completed discussion about two of the four classes that we were supposed to cover in the scheduled two hours of the full meeting. 

This morning I heard the grisly news that the meeting went on for another hour and a half and finally finished at 8.00 pm after three solid hours of pointlessly self-indulgent talk!

The only positive part of the entire meeting was my distribution of the remains of the Toblerone from the Media Studies lesson which ended just before the meeting started.  Two months ago there was the obscenity of holding a meeting on United Nations Day during which, by way of celebration and expiation I handed out mini boxes of Smarties.  That action was so unexpected and welcome that I had a round of applause.  This time the acceptance of large pieces of a 400g Toblerone bar was greeted with delight but no further demonstration of audial dexterity.  How quickly the unexpected becomes customary.

So, in the last two days some of my poor colleagues will have taught a full timetable (and believe me in my school that means exactly what it says) and have been to five hours of after school meetings!  The expression “lions led by donkeys” has never seemed so appropriate.  And we have three teachers absent today which produces its own specific form of chaos, as “supply” is a concept exotic and strange to this school.

I am hoping that my illness is coming to its mucus dripping climax and that from tomorrow I will on the upward slope to wellness.  I bloody better be!  I have no intention of adopting the usual cunning tactic of teachers and celebrating each holiday period by a parallel period of selfless illness. 

In the past (and only in Catalonia) the number of times that I have been actively ill on Christmas Day has been beyond a joke.  For the first few years I alternated illness with Toni’s sister and it was more than a few years before we were able to toast each other at the Christmas meal with a brimming, bubbling glass of Cava!

I am eagerly awaiting the arrival of my latest camera.  It should have arrived yesterday from Amazon, but I always assumed that the three-day delivery time was a little optimistic.  Today however could be a very real possibility for delivery and I am looking forward to playing around with a camera with a satisfyingly large number of features which I will probably never use.  But that, as I always point out to those who question my gadget capabilities, is not the point.  The point is possession.

In the way of our school I have now gained a free period because the class I should be teaching is off on a trip and have immediately lost it by taking a class which a teacher on the trip should be taking himself.  Such is life in our establishment.  Win none and lose a lot.  I’m sure it’s character building.  Though I tend to think that my character is quite well enough developed as it is.

I have now (well, not at this moment with a class in front of me) tried on the new trousers for my costume for the end of the term.  I do not have wellies and while this is not an essential part of the costume (as we have what looks like a pair of black, fur topped plastic greaves to make ordinary shoes look more imposing) I feel that real boots add an essential touch of verisimilitude to the whole outfit.  I might even buy some and put the expense down to the school! 

There again I don’t want to press my luck too far; after all I have made the school buy 600g of chocolate for my Media Studies class!

I caught the weather forecast for today in the UK on the television last night and today in Catalonia is one of the most convincing reasons for my presence here: glorious sunlight and blue skies with fluffy white clouds.  It is cold (I do not expect miracles) but bright and that lifts the spirits!

Having the 3ESO as the last class of the day (again) at the end of a day which started at 8.15 am for the kids is not my idea of fun – but I am buoyed up by the overwhelming belief that my new camera will be waiting for me when I get home. 

The idea of not having a new camera waiting at home after a last lesson with 3ESO (teaching the passive) after a week with two meetings after school (and it’s only Wednesday) would be unbearable and intolerable. 

So, in spite of the fact that Toni has not sent me a message informing me of its arrival I will persist in my naïf faith and not make myself even more miserable than I need to be.

Take something else!

My present intake of dugs (which is keeping the pharmaceutical industry going) while certainly having an effect on the cough etcetera, did nothing to deaden the pain of a two hour meeting after school. 

I told anybody who would listen that I was there by a sheer effort of will and motivated solely by an overwhelming sense of bloody minded professionalism, and that I might well not last the full two hours of the meeting.

I did of course with virtually my sole contribution of the meeting being a few extravagant coughing outbursts.

When I arrived back at the house I found that Toni was just about to phone the police, as he had had no idea where I was.  This was in spite of the fact that I spent the whole of the weekend bemoaning the fact that I had two two-hour meetings on the first two days of the week.  Toni must have an incredibly effective filtering mechanism to neutralize my gripes about the educational institution I grace with my presence!

Today is the six period teaching stint, to be followed as a special treat by the next two-hour meeting.  When I think about how little chance the management in this place would have to inflict this absurd burden on staff were I in Britain – I could well weep! 

Here it is accepted as one of the jolly japes that Johnny Foreigner finds essential to him himself going!  In reality, it is, of course, unforgiveable and will rankle in my mind as yet another Crime Against Humanity that I have had to suffer in the cause of education.

Meanwhile I am having to put up with the morning Catalan Cackle which occurs when two or more ladies of that national persuasion get together.  I have been driven from staffrooms by the cutting quality of high pitched simultaneous chattering which is more effective at wiping intelligent thought from a British brain than a high power magnet on a hard drive!

Accompanying this baying was the most glorious sunrise visible at it rose over a distant hill.  It is such images of beauty which will keep me sane during the horror of the hours ahead.

I am also taking strength from the phone call from Dianne last night when she confirmed that she is going to apply for early retirement.  This means that she and Ceri will be able to come over to Barcelona out of season and hopefully at low cost.  If I don’t see them in the summer then I certainly look forward to seeing them in the autumn – and we can think again about the visit to the gastronomic restaurant perched like a spaceship atop the hotel is Hospitalet!

I will need any and all positive motivations to keep my mind away from the horrors or another meeting this evening.

The day has started well with my first class being delayed by their having a talk by students who are trying to encourage them to go on a school visit to America.  In fact I have just been told by the head of department not to expect “much of a lesson” as the talks have, as usual, extended themselves and will take up the greater part of the lesson.  One down five to go!

One of my lessons is going to involve chocolate.

As part of my Media Studies classes I touch on logos, advertising and packaging.

I am fascinated by packaging.  I think all people are.  How many times have kids been given presents and they are far more interested in the box in which the present came than the actual present itself!  For some of us that delight never leaves.  I think that my interested may have been boosted by a period in my mother’s life when she was ensnared by a local Avon Lady who came Calling and left the most delicious catalogues.

I was absolutely fascinated by the bottles that the nondescript smells and potions came in, especially as my father explained that he was convinced that the bottle cost more to produce than the contents!  This was a revelation to me and it directed my interest more keenly.

Todays shops are a packageaholic’s paradise.  Not only do you have the minimalist delight of Apple packaging but also you have the bubble plastic tomb extravagance of Japanese cartoon character toys packaging as well.

How many adults have been left with shredded and bleeding fingers as they try and release toys from their razor sharp plastic covering only to have the wounds augmented by the dagger like metal twists that hold toys in place on their backing cards!

But my real pleasure is in the clever deceptive packaging where hapless consumers are encouraged to pay much, much more for less and less.

My current favourites in this field are Nespresso and Dettol (to be taken separately).  Coffee I can treat with detachment but Dettol is part of the Circle of Trust that is made up of products given the maternal mark of distinction and turned into icons by my mother. 

This circle is made up of Domestos, Dettol, TCP, Savlon and Vic.  In my mother’s view any child brought up in a household in which any one of those products was lacking had a right and duty to phone Childline and ask to be taken into care!

Nespresso has made a religion out of coffee purchase and their packaging of minute amounts of coffee into elegant capsules has made the coffee grains weight-for-weight on a par with gold dust!

Dettol is slightly different.  They have developed a hand soap dispenser that is electronic and deposits the soap on the hand without the user having to touch any part of the machine. 

The brand-specific soap refills are smaller than the cheap alternatives that you can buy anywhere for a single euro or less and are, of course, substantially more expensive. 

I have used up one refill and have discovered that the opening in the bottle is a cleverly designed valve which precludes the use of cheaper soap being forced through – though, it occurs to me that there must be something on YouTube that will show me how to thwart the system!

What I have chosen as an illustration my lesson this afternoon is Toblerone. 

I have bought a packet of individually lavishly wrapped triangles of Toblerone chocolate and a solid bar of the stuff – both cost the same but the difference in weight for money is astonishing.  And the packaging makes such a difference in the presentation.  The kids will be amazed and involved because at least we get to eat the things!  At least that is my plan.

The way that Media Studies is organized means that I have two periods with the equivalent of Year 9 taking up the entire afternoon from 3.00 pm to 4.45 pm – the graveyard shift for hormonal adolescents!  This is done in a room in which my personal storage space is in the remaining space of the moveable television cabinet, where, not surprisingly the television and video/CD player take up most of the available space.

I have tried to make the second part of the double lesson practical, but any practical component is a constant battle to find and distribute stuff which always has to be found and brought in just before the lesson itself.  I (like the idiot I am) have bought a class set of scissors – yet again ignoring my oft-repeated advice to members of my own department “not to buy things for school”.  When it makes your own life so much easier and it comes courtesy of Lidl’s at relatively little expense I think that it is worth it!

Then there is the meeting or The Meeting as it has become in my mind.  Talking with the head of department she seems not averse to my sloping off after the 3ESO has been done which should be at least an hour away from the gory end of the horrible experience for everyone else.

And at the termination of this school day I will have chalked up: eleven teaching lessons; four hours of mind-numbing meetings; a tedious lunchtime duty and much spectacular coughing and snuffling, we won’t even be halfway through the week! 

Which is not a good way of thinking about the time that I have already done.  Or indeed the time left to the weekend!

I shall console myself with the fact that this is the last full week before the Christmas holidays.  We finish on the 22^nd of December and we do not return until the 9^th of January next year.  It always sounds more comforting when you say that.  “Next year” always sounds more distant in time, even when you are talking about it on the 31^st of December!

Roll on oblivion!