(no subject)
Well, updates, updates...
I realise I haven't been blogging much about this flyover to Istanbul, or what'll happen when it's over, so I'd better get some updates in.
Istanbul itself has been pretty straightforward. I've been seeing friends new and old and making some fumbly attempts to see bits of the city. Mostly, though, it's been about the friends and using Alison's computer for free to research grad schools and jobs in London (I've given her money towards rent and bills, so I use her internet with a clear conscience!). I tried to do the Grand Bazaar and Spice Bazaar with Jules yesterday, but Alex and her sister Ellie decided to come along, which made Jules half an hour late for our one o'clock meeting time, and then they insisted on lunch on the Galata Bridge, which put us another hour and a half back. By the time Jules and I got out, we were so bagged we only did the smaller Spice Bazaar and then nipped ultra-quickly into the Grand Bazaar so I could get the last of my presents (a fez and a bellydancer's hat and some traditional Turkish shoes for Tirion and Peter to play dress-up with. In the Spice Bazaar, despairing of getting anything "perfect" I bought Mark a big mix of almonds, pecans and shelled pistachioes for his birthday). I love Alex madly, and her sister, while far too boy-crazy, seems sweet, but I do think it was rather cheeky to hijack our afternoon like that.
So, I haven't really done anything touristy properly, though I want to see the museum of archeology and the Islamic arts one, perhaps tomorrow. On the way I'll drop by Istanbul University and talk to them about a grad programme as I did at Bogazici on Monday. Today is reserved for tidying my room and the house in preparation for Katherine's probable return from England tomorrow (we're not sure, but Alison thinks she's coming back on the 29th), internet research, and seeing Seren. :o) Friday I may go and see the Chora museum if I can figure out how the heck to get there. (Alison has been off on a train holiday to Denizli and Pamukkale with her husband John since Sunday afternoon. They get back Friday.)
As for Seren himself, I've only seen him once every few days. He's remarkably busy for someone who has only one course in music theory to attend a week, no job, and no English lessons. He's been running around equipping his new bedroom now that his brother's got back from military service and kicked him out of the one he was in, and otherwise doing a lot of family stuff. He's also been deliberately avoiding seeing too much of me, by his own admission, because he says if he gets used to me being here too much, it will be harder for him when I go again. This has caused a few hurt blow-ups when we had plans and he backed out on them, or when I've tried to get hold of him all day but received no responses to my texts, but now, with only four days left to go, things seem to have finally settled.
When I get back to London, I may not have a job, but I'll have a place to live. On the whole family's nervous preference, we had Tom call up this guy in Highbury to "make sure he was OK." Looking back, I'm not sure this was a good idea. Ruth was absolutely lovely when I spoke to her, agreed instantly on Tom's behalf, etc. But I got no response to my emails sending John's email address and telephone number so they could contact him, and I later got the impression that Tom didn't know what he was expected to do. The conversation was apparently only five minutes long. Tom said, you don't hack people up in the kitchen, do you, John responded, no, I do it in the garden, and that was basically it, apparently. It also seemed to put John himself on edge, and was on the whole an unpleasant business.
Really, I should have just skipped it knowing I'd be in London for a night and arranged earlier -- as I ended up doing later -- to go by and see the place that night. Janet was lovely about it all, took me over in her car, and so that was fine.
She was a bit worried because the flat is right on the A1, which, for non-Londoners, is the big-road-cum-highway that leads out of North London, but on getting inside we found the sitting room windows triple-glazed and "my" bedroom on the back of the house. No noise problem whatsoever. The living room curtains were closed, and Janet still seemed a bit unsure, saying he must never open them, because the window just looks out on the road, but I decided it wasn't a deal-breaker. I put down my deposit and have my key!
The house is beautiful -- huge rooms, hardwood floors, GIGANTIC kitchen with all new appliances. Gas stove with (probably) electric oven. Garden. Three bedrooms upstairs, as mentioned. I'm quite happy with my circumstances!
As for a job, oh, as for a job.
I dropped by Liz's office in the Taksim branch of Interlang whilst present-shopping my way along Istiklal Caddesi last week, to see if she might have any tips on TEFL job-hunting in London. She didn't have anything specific, just told me that a lot of it seems to be in public, rather than private institutions. She also had my acceptance package from St. Antony's College, the Holy Grail for all Modern Middle East Studies students at Oxford, which basically said, show us the money. Oh, and we don't have any accommodation left for you.
Jules says I should drop by the school where she got her TEFL cert, St. Giles, which is in Highbury.
Stephen and Gabriel both insist that there are TEFL jobs in London because they have friends who have them, and Gabriel claims that his friend makes twenty-five pounds an hour. In what alternate universe, I'd like to know.
A new teacher at Interlang named David also had a recommendation. He's from Northern Ireland (amazingly, from the same tiny town outside Belfast as the original "Oirish" -- Graham) but spent some years living in London. He worked first in banking, but then moved to property management which is what he thinks I should do. Basically, it involves sorting out problems in leased properties. At the simplest level, tenant phones you up, says, "My washing machine's broken," you phone the plumber, say, "His washing machine's broken, go and fix it," but it also involves also delving into complications with contracts, deposits, etc, etc. He said you also get some really nutty situations, like neighbours phoning up and saying, "My neighbour's a prostitute! Do something!" So you phone up the landlord in Russia who says, "I don't care! She pays her rent! I don't like my neighbours anyway!" So then you have to phone up the tenant and say something like "Your neighbours are complaining you've been having too many... visitors. Yes. Could you, maybe, in future, not have so many... visitors? Right. Thank you."
Anyway, he says it's a tough, demanding job, and they're always looking for people because no one wants to do it for long. But really interesting. And they take people right out of uni, so I shouldn't have a problem, especially if I play up the problem-solving and interpersonal skills necessary in TEFL! He gave me websites of two places he worked, told me to apply mentioning his name. I've already applied to one online mentioning that I heard about them through a "personal recommendation from a former employee"! The other didn't seem to have any vacancies in that particular job.
Because it's so demanding, it's apparently really good money. David said he made over thirty thousand a year, but the one I looked at started at twenty-two. Still, if I can keep my expenses down, that could be some good savings. Dave apparently had TWO flats in London before he left! That's serious money.
However, I have as yet heard nothing from the place I applied to, so I think the recruitment agency tactic is still definitely on. One thing I must do before I go is make a list of the agencies Night's mentioned to me, find them online, with their addresses and nearest tube stations, and then with the help of a London A-Z, I can hopefully find them once I'm there.
So, that's it, really. I'd feel much more comfortable if I had a job waiting for me. *sigh* But this is the road I've been given, so I'd better walk it!
I realise I haven't been blogging much about this flyover to Istanbul, or what'll happen when it's over, so I'd better get some updates in.
Istanbul itself has been pretty straightforward. I've been seeing friends new and old and making some fumbly attempts to see bits of the city. Mostly, though, it's been about the friends and using Alison's computer for free to research grad schools and jobs in London (I've given her money towards rent and bills, so I use her internet with a clear conscience!). I tried to do the Grand Bazaar and Spice Bazaar with Jules yesterday, but Alex and her sister Ellie decided to come along, which made Jules half an hour late for our one o'clock meeting time, and then they insisted on lunch on the Galata Bridge, which put us another hour and a half back. By the time Jules and I got out, we were so bagged we only did the smaller Spice Bazaar and then nipped ultra-quickly into the Grand Bazaar so I could get the last of my presents (a fez and a bellydancer's hat and some traditional Turkish shoes for Tirion and Peter to play dress-up with. In the Spice Bazaar, despairing of getting anything "perfect" I bought Mark a big mix of almonds, pecans and shelled pistachioes for his birthday). I love Alex madly, and her sister, while far too boy-crazy, seems sweet, but I do think it was rather cheeky to hijack our afternoon like that.
So, I haven't really done anything touristy properly, though I want to see the museum of archeology and the Islamic arts one, perhaps tomorrow. On the way I'll drop by Istanbul University and talk to them about a grad programme as I did at Bogazici on Monday. Today is reserved for tidying my room and the house in preparation for Katherine's probable return from England tomorrow (we're not sure, but Alison thinks she's coming back on the 29th), internet research, and seeing Seren. :o) Friday I may go and see the Chora museum if I can figure out how the heck to get there. (Alison has been off on a train holiday to Denizli and Pamukkale with her husband John since Sunday afternoon. They get back Friday.)
As for Seren himself, I've only seen him once every few days. He's remarkably busy for someone who has only one course in music theory to attend a week, no job, and no English lessons. He's been running around equipping his new bedroom now that his brother's got back from military service and kicked him out of the one he was in, and otherwise doing a lot of family stuff. He's also been deliberately avoiding seeing too much of me, by his own admission, because he says if he gets used to me being here too much, it will be harder for him when I go again. This has caused a few hurt blow-ups when we had plans and he backed out on them, or when I've tried to get hold of him all day but received no responses to my texts, but now, with only four days left to go, things seem to have finally settled.
When I get back to London, I may not have a job, but I'll have a place to live. On the whole family's nervous preference, we had Tom call up this guy in Highbury to "make sure he was OK." Looking back, I'm not sure this was a good idea. Ruth was absolutely lovely when I spoke to her, agreed instantly on Tom's behalf, etc. But I got no response to my emails sending John's email address and telephone number so they could contact him, and I later got the impression that Tom didn't know what he was expected to do. The conversation was apparently only five minutes long. Tom said, you don't hack people up in the kitchen, do you, John responded, no, I do it in the garden, and that was basically it, apparently. It also seemed to put John himself on edge, and was on the whole an unpleasant business.
Really, I should have just skipped it knowing I'd be in London for a night and arranged earlier -- as I ended up doing later -- to go by and see the place that night. Janet was lovely about it all, took me over in her car, and so that was fine.
She was a bit worried because the flat is right on the A1, which, for non-Londoners, is the big-road-cum-highway that leads out of North London, but on getting inside we found the sitting room windows triple-glazed and "my" bedroom on the back of the house. No noise problem whatsoever. The living room curtains were closed, and Janet still seemed a bit unsure, saying he must never open them, because the window just looks out on the road, but I decided it wasn't a deal-breaker. I put down my deposit and have my key!
The house is beautiful -- huge rooms, hardwood floors, GIGANTIC kitchen with all new appliances. Gas stove with (probably) electric oven. Garden. Three bedrooms upstairs, as mentioned. I'm quite happy with my circumstances!
As for a job, oh, as for a job.
I dropped by Liz's office in the Taksim branch of Interlang whilst present-shopping my way along Istiklal Caddesi last week, to see if she might have any tips on TEFL job-hunting in London. She didn't have anything specific, just told me that a lot of it seems to be in public, rather than private institutions. She also had my acceptance package from St. Antony's College, the Holy Grail for all Modern Middle East Studies students at Oxford, which basically said, show us the money. Oh, and we don't have any accommodation left for you.
Jules says I should drop by the school where she got her TEFL cert, St. Giles, which is in Highbury.
Stephen and Gabriel both insist that there are TEFL jobs in London because they have friends who have them, and Gabriel claims that his friend makes twenty-five pounds an hour. In what alternate universe, I'd like to know.
A new teacher at Interlang named David also had a recommendation. He's from Northern Ireland (amazingly, from the same tiny town outside Belfast as the original "Oirish" -- Graham) but spent some years living in London. He worked first in banking, but then moved to property management which is what he thinks I should do. Basically, it involves sorting out problems in leased properties. At the simplest level, tenant phones you up, says, "My washing machine's broken," you phone the plumber, say, "His washing machine's broken, go and fix it," but it also involves also delving into complications with contracts, deposits, etc, etc. He said you also get some really nutty situations, like neighbours phoning up and saying, "My neighbour's a prostitute! Do something!" So you phone up the landlord in Russia who says, "I don't care! She pays her rent! I don't like my neighbours anyway!" So then you have to phone up the tenant and say something like "Your neighbours are complaining you've been having too many... visitors. Yes. Could you, maybe, in future, not have so many... visitors? Right. Thank you."
Anyway, he says it's a tough, demanding job, and they're always looking for people because no one wants to do it for long. But really interesting. And they take people right out of uni, so I shouldn't have a problem, especially if I play up the problem-solving and interpersonal skills necessary in TEFL! He gave me websites of two places he worked, told me to apply mentioning his name. I've already applied to one online mentioning that I heard about them through a "personal recommendation from a former employee"! The other didn't seem to have any vacancies in that particular job.
Because it's so demanding, it's apparently really good money. David said he made over thirty thousand a year, but the one I looked at started at twenty-two. Still, if I can keep my expenses down, that could be some good savings. Dave apparently had TWO flats in London before he left! That's serious money.
However, I have as yet heard nothing from the place I applied to, so I think the recruitment agency tactic is still definitely on. One thing I must do before I go is make a list of the agencies Night's mentioned to me, find them online, with their addresses and nearest tube stations, and then with the help of a London A-Z, I can hopefully find them once I'm there.
So, that's it, really. I'd feel much more comfortable if I had a job waiting for me. *sigh* But this is the road I've been given, so I'd better walk it!