Hola!

Hello, again, the few people who read this.

I'm sorry for not updating, but my excuse is that I've had better things to do. Oh, wait, that's not really an excuse, is it? Well, to be honest, I have been settling in a new country, starting a new job, making new friends, learning Spanish and Arabic (yes, I've started Arabic lessons, because I decided Spanish was already hard enough, I'd throw in another language!), etc.


So, where do I start? Oh, I'll tell you about the most terrifying experience I've possibly ever had, perhaps save nearly drowning in the deep blue sea. The said experience was... wait for it... going to a church. Which was Spanish speaking. It was well scary, I tell ya! First of all, people started to speak to me as I walked in, so I just told them "No hablo mucho espanol". But the pastor, who I spoke to briefly, introduced me to the entire congregation and got me to stand up. In front of everyone. I pretended at first not to understand what he was saying, but the lady kept on waving her arms until I stood up. So there I was, standing at the back of the church with everyone looking at me and the pastor saying "No habla mucho espanol pero esta aprendendo."

After that initial embarrassment, the songs generally went fine since a) I could read the words on the screen and b) the songs were often translations of English ones and thus had similar lyrics. The sermon, I have to confess, bored the pants off of me because I had to strain to understand it so I just gave up. But no-one seemed to notice, so cue next embarrassing moment: communion. As they were bringing all the bread around, I duly took my piece, but not having noticed that no-one had as yet eaten their bread, I put my piece in my mouth. The lady next to me (she had the patience of a saint!) waved frantically at me and I took the piece of bread out of my mouth and held it on my tongue until the prayers were said. With the wine, I had learnt the protocol...

At the end several people tried to talk to me but with my limited Spanish and the fact that by this point I was very tired, I could hardly say anything, and made a quick departure. I am planning to go back though...

Anyway, that'll do for now, even though I have lots to say, because I suppose it's better to get one blog entry out there then have a super-long one which never gets finished (I've been writing bits to this entry for over a week!).

So, adios, mis amigos!

To kill two bitches with one stone

Hola! So, since my last update, I've got a new job and moved to a new country. I'm now living in Murcia, Spain. And it's hot. Blimmin' hot... But it does mean unbroken sunshine for weeks on end, sitting by swimming pools, going to the beach, yada yada. So, since I've arrived, most of my free time has been doing nothing (except swimming, sunbathing, enjoying the sun...). Workwise, it's been easy-going, with the last two weeks being training. Last week was the Callan method. I'll give you a quick example:

Me: Is this a table? Is this a table?
Student (with me guiding): No, it's not a table, but it's
a chair.
Me: Is this a chair? is this a chair?
Student: No, it's not a chair, but it's a light.

And so on.

Except in my first class today, I was translating into Spanish the expression "to kill two birds with one stone", which is matar dos pájaros de un tiro. Unfortunately, seeing as one of the students laughed, I evidently mispronounced it. After consulting my dictionary, I worked out I probably said pájaras (sneaky bitches) instead of pájaros. I could even have said pajas (wanks). So, "to kill two bitches [or wanks] with one stone" is now an English idiom.

In other news

So, I've moved into a new apartment. My landlady is lovely. She's a lovely old Spanish lady who told me "mi house es tu house." And gave me bed sheets. I am also living with Dan, a housemate/colleague from Swanage, which is very cool. It was a bit weird when he arrived because it felt like he was visiting me for a holiday, so I had to keep reminding myself he was coming to work too. It was a strange coincidence.

I went to Burger King twice in my first week. The first time an old man stole my ketchup. Actually, he asked me if I wanted it, and I, flustered with my basic Spanish, said "no", and he took it. The second time, my stomach protested muchly (I'm not surprised, to be honest).

I've also developped a habit of forcing my Spanish onto people. In restaurants and supermarkets, I ask questions just to practise my Spanish ("¿Qué es esto?" "Dónde están los aseos?") to waiters, shopkeepers, passing strangers...

China, China, China...

It seems that China is the theme for the last few days.

Since being unemployed, I've been applying for teaching jobs across the world. Today, I received an offer for a school in China. I'm not sure whether I'm going to accept it or not, but I'll inform all my loyal (non-existent) readers as soon as I make a decision.

My blog has also had a recent attack of spam from Chinese porn websites. If you could tell me what...

最近様々なメディアで紹介されている家出掲示板では、全国各地のネットカフェ等を泊り歩いている家出少女のメッセージが多数書き込みされています。彼女たちはお金がないので掲示板で知り合った男性とすぐに遊びに行くようです。あなたも書き込みに返事を返してみませんか

...means, I'll be much obliged.

Anyway, that's all for this post. A plus!

Back home, and unemployed!

Ok, I haven't updated in 5 weeks... But that's because I've been ridiculously busy and the internet at Swanage wasn't particularly reliable. So, I've been a teacher for 6 weeks. Apart from the rather interesting arrival at Harrow House, the rest of my time there was really enjoyable. Ok, it's hard work teaching 6 hours a day and then going on excursions on Saturdays (well, I did every other Saturday), but it was really fun. The other staff were awesome and I got on with them really well. (A special mention goes to Emily who has her own blog) But now that's over, and as I lie in bed in the morning, I actually feel as if something's missing, as if I should be standing in front of 16 apathetic teenagers who want to be in bed as much as I do. At least there's always next year!

Of course, it's good being back home, and I've been rather busy despite the lie-ins. On the Sunday that I left, my dad forced me to walk five miles to a nearby village (Worth Matravers) just to go to the pub there, the Square and Compass. Ok, so the views on the walk were wonderful, the weather was amazing, and the pub was very cool, but it was exercise! On a Sunday! And there was no rest for me on Monday, either, as our house experienced its annual invasion by the Hampton clan. It was lovely to see them all again, but goodness, don't they talk! What I'm most impressed by is how two Hamptons can talk at each other simultaneously and still apparently understand what the other is saying, although I'm not convinced...

On Tuesday, I went into Southampton. I had to buy a new pair of jeans because I didn't realise until it was too late that I was wearing an old pair of jeans which had a nice big hole where you wouldn't want a hole, and had no pockets either since we cut them out. So after buying said new jeans, I went to see where Thomas works, then had my haircut (I've lost a stone in weight by doing that), and went home. In the evening, I went to Southampton again for a school reunion. My friend Karen is getting married tomorrow and then moving to Germany, so a group of friends from school decided to meet up. In total there were six of us, and it was the first time we'd all been in the same place for five years I think. It was great to catch up with everyone and share stories. We should definitely do it again.

Yesterday I didn't do too much. I applied for some jobs, I did some cooking. On Monday, someone, who we've worked out was probably me, didn't shut the freezer in the garage properly, so all the food inside defrosted. So my brother and I had to cook what we could save.

Fact(s) of the day

• "Uncopyrightable" is the longest word which has only one of each letter in it.
• My favourite punctuation mark is the ellipsis...
  
  So, that's it from me, and hopefully, since I now have more time, I'll update more often.

First week at Harrow House

Ok, so again I've failed at updating my blog recently, so here's a few facts about what's happened in my life:

• I moved from Paris for good.
• But shortly after I went on holiday to Corsica, which was amazing, and where I nearly drowned. For a good lowdown of the holiday, head to my brother's blog.
• I got a first for my degree, so I now have a BA in French Studies. I also passed my online Tefl course.
• And finally, I got a job teaching English at Harrow House in Swanage, which I shall describe below...

So, I got a telephone call last Tuesday and was asked to start the job on Monday. I accepted despite the short notice, and moved to Swanage on Saturday. The journey was nice, the weather lovely, and the housemates all seemed very nice. On Saturday I did quite a bit of window shopping with housemates, went up to the pub and met several other colleagues and then went up to the lighthouse with two housemates, Pete and Adam, in the middle of the night. On Sunday morning, a group of us went to have brunch at a cafe, and then a group of us went and did more shopping and then went and played games at the arcade on the beach/went for a walk, etc. So everything was lovely. Except...

On Saturday night, one of the housemates got rather drunk and his behaviour was slightly weird. But on Sunday, he started drinking very early on and carried on. By the afternoon, his behaviour was completely erratic. He went up to the school, following some of us who wanted to play tennis, and began swearing loudly across the tennis and basketball courts in front of students and other staff. So we were told to take this housemate home, where on the way back he made lewd and offensive comments to students. Skip some more erratic behaviour to the evening. At this point, his behaviour was incredibly weird, where he said that we should taste our blood and he said that he would cut us in the night and drink our blood. And then he cut his arm and asked an Argentinian guest to drink his blood. So we phoned the police and left. We ended up spending Sunday night at the school and then in the morning collected our stuff. The aforementioned housemate's behaviour became more normal and he seemed shocked and ashamed at his behaviour. He resigned.

Because of that, my first few days were chaotic, but by the end normality resumed. Although the days are long, I'm really enjoying it and the other staff and remaining housemates are all very cool and very helpful, which means the lesson planning isn't so arduous.

Today I went on an excursion to Portsmouth. The weather was rubbish and some of the students miserable, but the HMS Victory was amazing, and the children who the staff had to look after in the afternoon were lovely and so easy to look after.

Donc, voila, that's my first week.

En Angleterre

Hi, I'm back in England now. I haven't been updating my blog over the last few days for the simple reason that my laptop was at the bottom of a suitcase. But now I'm reconnected to the internet, and, even more excitingly, using a wifi connection, so I can blog from anywhere within a decent radius of my house! Yay!

So, my final days in Paris...

It seems that closing my bank account on Friday (see my last blog entry) was a bit of a premature move, as I still have a cheque that CAF has yet to bank. I told my bank this, and they've halted the closure of my account, but I'm probably going to have to write them a letter asking them not to close it after all. So, as my brother has pointed out, there's a certain irony that an example of French efficiency has turned out to be detrimental.

Friday night I went to a party where I talked almost exclusively in French. It's nice to see that living in Paris and studying the lingo for three years has had some benefits.

Sunday night was my last church service, which was tres triste. Coincidentally, Ekkardt and Rebecca were in Paris, which was amazing, since they arrived in Paris the same week I did, and was there when I left. I was called up to the front of the service to be given a parting gift (a Starbucks Paris mug). I was rather nervous, however, that I would drop the mug, and have it shatter in front of the entire congregation. The nervousness was due to a past similar experience... Tuesday evening was my last actual evening at church, where Heather made a French-themed chocolate cake with the icing coloured in red, white and blue. I was duly impressed. And we had rose (I do wish I had accents on this keyboard).

What else? Tuesday I spent most of my time lugging things around Paris. Wednesday I had a cup of tea with Nicky in the morning, lunch in the afternoon, and after my etat de lieu (more on that story later) and then had an indian near Gare du Nord with Leanne and Laura as Laura came in to Paris but was spending the night at Leanne's. About the etat de lieu, which is when the landlord checks to see what state your apartment is in, I had a bit of a crisis. 10 minutes before the landlord was to arrive, I checked to see if the various electrical appliances were working, and I blew a fuse. My money's on the microwave, but the power went out for the entire kitchen section, so I couldn't find out. Typical. Everything was working before then. But the landlord was very nice about it and said it wouldn't have been anything to do with my actions, and gave me back the full deposit. Yay! So I went to Gare du Nord with large amounts of cash in my pockets - not necessarily the brightest of ideas - but made it to Nicky's alive.

I spent the night at Nicky's, well, actually at Lucy's, but since she no longer lives there..., said goodbye to her and left for the airport in the morning. The journey to the airport was fun, lugging a great big heavy suitcase and a back pack across the RER. Plus there was this American couple who were blocking the entrance to the train with 6 suitcases/bags for TWO people, and they didn't move to let people into the carriage. How rude. My suitcase turned out to be 23.5 kg, (weight limit: 20 kg) and after a little readjustment I got it down to 21 kg and the lady checked in my suitcase anyway, which was very kind of her. And after my flight was delayed about twenty minutes I arrived in cloudy England.*

Now that I'm half-way through unpacking my stuff, I have come to a few conclusions:

• I no longer need any teacups/tea pots or tea coasters for the rest of my life.
• I have three drawers of underwear. I am thinking that I don't need any more of those either.
• I have a similar amount of socks, but only of one sock of each pair. If you find three drawers of unpaired socks, you know who to call.**
• I have hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of books. British Library, eat your heart out.

Today, I've been quite productive, having done two units of my TEFL course, a bit of unpacking, and written an essay for my blog! So, on that note, I think I'll leave it there...

Speak to you soon.

* It's now lovely and sunny.
** Ghostbusters!

Quick update: I've just phoned HSBC France and my account is actually being closed. Donc, voila, interdit bancaire here I come! Yay!

French Banking efficiency

I didn't think I would ever say this, but I had a pleasant encounter with a French bank today. I went there to close my bank account and within 15 minutes it was all done. It's incredibly scary not to have a bank account here. If I knew it'd be so efficient, I might have waited till next week, but I was anticipating that multiple visits would have been necessary. So, I no longer have a French bank account. Which, for some reason has me feeling somewhat vulnerable. (Possibly because I can't remember the PINs for my English cards and therefore am stuck without money and may well starve to death...)

This is also possibly the last time that I'll be in uni, which is equally scary. It's as if my Parisian life is dissolving before my eyes. First Lucy leaves, then my mother and brother strip my apartment bare, then I close my bank account... it's all very depressing.

So on that note, adieu.