It's the wheel that squeaks that gets the oil
The Last Week of School
24th July, Monday of the last week of the school. The cover teacher to replace all the teachers who had left was sick and there was another power cut, so the photocopier wouldn't work.
25th July, me and the only two teachers left sit and look at each other miserably in the staffroom. By the afternoon I have posters all round the school declaring Friday a social day.
26th July, between covering classes I go into Kingston to get more up to date info for Friday's history walk - I haven't done it since my old school closed more than 2 years ago. I can't find the old school at first as they've pedestrianised the other half of central Kingston since I last went there.
27th July, taught my classes as normally as possible. Say goodbye to the ones not coming on Friday.
Friday 28th July. Starts off grey but get a decent turn-out. Have to compete with the fishmonger as I lecture them round the market place. Not too many long-term students except Kanjana and Luis, and Yu Jin who took the intensive exam course with me.
Then the two afternoon groups. Realise I've condemned myself to total weirdness in this attempt at a fun closure as I lead them past Kingston police station for the 3rd time.
Harder to say goodbye to the afternoon Advanced students - Marcela and Katia - and run back to say bye to Cesar who gives me a kiss on both cheeks.
Day gets stressed up a gear with traffic jams and sulky students. The last lot mostly want to drink by the river and don't give a damn about the seven saxon kings and I get grouchy - the grim educator to the bitter end.
We sit on the paved river bank by the bridge and someone's brought Fanta and a fantastic potato tortilla. I go back to Wimbledon on the bus with a Japanese girl I've only taught for 2 weeks. She's sweet and easy to talk to, but my employment by the school ended half an hour before on the river bank, and I'm glad when the baby sitting is finally over.
Freeedom!?
What have I done with it? Drunk some good wine, watered some plants, applied for many jobs, had massive drunken argument. Mostly felt pretty damn happy, free from the chains that held me to the oar - I remember telling Awo that they wouldn't take me out of that place unless it was in a box. . . Damn, that's what I need to do - sort out all those boxes and boxes of teaching stuff now under my dining room table. Have interviews tomorrow, that's probably why I'm gloomy - reality of work beckons again.
Happy Birthday Clara Cliffa Jacks!
Just got back from Perth, Scotland - took the Megabus overnight and went to my schoolfriend Clare's mother's 60th. It was wild. First, Friday night barbeque with the mum's Ghanaian school posse and a good measure of crazy Glaswegian nurses, plus buckets and buckets of Pimms. Then cake collecting, balloon blowing and decorating, followed by even more Ghanaians, medics and a hairdresser: 33 women and one poor bemused Norwegian man. I doubt Perth, Scotland has ever seen so many be-hinds doing their thing to such a diverse range of music. Unfortunately Clare had a video camera so I may get to see it again, sober.
Woke up on the airbed on Sun almost immobilised by backache and was variously massaged, drugged and fed Lye Soup till my evening Megabus left. It's a lot better today, but I miss the soup.
24th July, Monday of the last week of the school. The cover teacher to replace all the teachers who had left was sick and there was another power cut, so the photocopier wouldn't work.
25th July, me and the only two teachers left sit and look at each other miserably in the staffroom. By the afternoon I have posters all round the school declaring Friday a social day.
26th July, between covering classes I go into Kingston to get more up to date info for Friday's history walk - I haven't done it since my old school closed more than 2 years ago. I can't find the old school at first as they've pedestrianised the other half of central Kingston since I last went there.
27th July, taught my classes as normally as possible. Say goodbye to the ones not coming on Friday.
Friday 28th July. Starts off grey but get a decent turn-out. Have to compete with the fishmonger as I lecture them round the market place. Not too many long-term students except Kanjana and Luis, and Yu Jin who took the intensive exam course with me.
Then the two afternoon groups. Realise I've condemned myself to total weirdness in this attempt at a fun closure as I lead them past Kingston police station for the 3rd time.
Harder to say goodbye to the afternoon Advanced students - Marcela and Katia - and run back to say bye to Cesar who gives me a kiss on both cheeks.
Day gets stressed up a gear with traffic jams and sulky students. The last lot mostly want to drink by the river and don't give a damn about the seven saxon kings and I get grouchy - the grim educator to the bitter end.
We sit on the paved river bank by the bridge and someone's brought Fanta and a fantastic potato tortilla. I go back to Wimbledon on the bus with a Japanese girl I've only taught for 2 weeks. She's sweet and easy to talk to, but my employment by the school ended half an hour before on the river bank, and I'm glad when the baby sitting is finally over.
Freeedom!?
What have I done with it? Drunk some good wine, watered some plants, applied for many jobs, had massive drunken argument. Mostly felt pretty damn happy, free from the chains that held me to the oar - I remember telling Awo that they wouldn't take me out of that place unless it was in a box. . . Damn, that's what I need to do - sort out all those boxes and boxes of teaching stuff now under my dining room table. Have interviews tomorrow, that's probably why I'm gloomy - reality of work beckons again.
Happy Birthday Clara Cliffa Jacks!
Just got back from Perth, Scotland - took the Megabus overnight and went to my schoolfriend Clare's mother's 60th. It was wild. First, Friday night barbeque with the mum's Ghanaian school posse and a good measure of crazy Glaswegian nurses, plus buckets and buckets of Pimms. Then cake collecting, balloon blowing and decorating, followed by even more Ghanaians, medics and a hairdresser: 33 women and one poor bemused Norwegian man. I doubt Perth, Scotland has ever seen so many be-hinds doing their thing to such a diverse range of music. Unfortunately Clare had a video camera so I may get to see it again, sober.
Woke up on the airbed on Sun almost immobilised by backache and was variously massaged, drugged and fed Lye Soup till my evening Megabus left. It's a lot better today, but I miss the soup.