Well, guess what:
Life does not actually end when you get married, though this may never have occurred to miss Jane Austen. Not that I want to bitch on her, I love her work, but I am slightly out of her range now. Unless, that is, I turn into a Mrs Bennet or Mrs Jennings at some point and happily rejoin the cast of some of the best novels English literature has to offer. But not yet. I pray I will keep my wits for a little bit longer. Perhaps I could go through a Willoughby phase first? Or a Miss Bingley one? I might even settle for a period of mindless Lydia Bennet-style fun and games. After all, one could never believe she gave up her playful ways after marrying Wickham, now could one?!
However, my silence (to which faithful readers of this uninteresting blog should be accustomed by now) might have provoked a contrary view. Olaf and I got married in secret, told everybody, went on our honeymoon, told the world about that and then fell silent. That is what it must have seemed like to you. No more, though, I say, No more. I refuse to sink into the background and resign myself to a life of housework, mindless chatter and ordering the servants around. For one thing, we don't have any servants, not even a cleaner - which annoys the hell out of me. And I do enjoy mindless chatter every once in a while...
After our fabulous - and I do not use the F word lightly - honeymoon, it took us a while to settle back into our lives again. I had not really got used to Berlin in those 7 months I lived here before we left and that became painfully obvious when I got terribly lost on a route I had taken several times before. It also did not help that everything was covered in a thick layer of snow and ice - a layer that would not leave until early March. I had somehow thought winter would be over when we came back and I was exceedingly surprised when we experienced a 50 degree C drop in temperature when we landed in Frankfurt where it was -20 (as opposed to a lovely 30 degrees in Thailand). Our shirts froze to our backs, our flipflops slid down the stairs and I almost immediately went belly-up.
Once we had got over this unpleasant surprise, Olaf went right back to work and I turned out to have very little to do for a month. I had missed the big start-off of courses in January, which had all been given to teachers who had not made the brilliant decision to leave Berlin in the busiest month of the year, and was stuck with the leftovers. I mainly survived on private students that month but it did not really go anywhere.
We had, however, already booked a nice weekend of catching up Milan. Olaf had to go for work - but unfortunately got stuck in a blizzard in Washington and did not make it to Milan until Friday - where I joined him for a weekend with friends. People were hugged and kissed, stories were exchanged, XL cocktails were had at La Hora Feliz and I felt right at home again. We had of course brought several people some presents, a picture of the most awesome of which, snake whiskey from Laos, you can see on Olaf's blog. I do believe we impressed with Massimo, which is exactly what we had sat out to do.
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end - and yes, I have recently rewatched the two concluding episodes of Dawson's Creek, which is what reminded me of this quote. As business was very slow, I spent most of my days applying to schools, watching lots of films and doing tons of yoga. I feel I am actually getting somewhere with my routine, although I realise I still have a long way to go until I can myself anything but a beginner. My teacher is satisfied with my progress, even though he casually remarked that if I learnt all the positions I don't know yet and did the whole series of exercises it would take me up to three hours to do the whole set. So much for progress, I am apparently extraordinarily slow!!
We did finally manage to meet up with Nicole and Pieter for a night of traditional Dutch curly cale stew (boerenkoolstamppot), which had been planning since before we left for Southeast Asia. As expected, it was delicious and even seemed to be an incentive for the winter to end once and for all, as the temperature rose and all the snow and ice suddenly melted a few days later. I have never in my life been so thrilled at the sight of pavement as I was that day.
When I finally did get some work in, I was asked to do two different courses for two different schools starting on exactly the same Monday. One was an 8-day intensive course and the other an extensive 200-hour course that had to finish in three months. Unfortunately, they were not only overlapping, but I had organised to go away the weekend before and not to come back until Tuesday. I managed to work something out with my one school and had good hopes to be able to postpone the beginning of the other course at the other school. After all, I had written the course programme that had landed us this course at the owner's request and she had guaranteed me I would get the course. She could not really have expected me to be available as of the next Monday when she called me the Friday before. We agreed she would get a substitute for the first for lessons after which I would take over. When the student was happy enough with the sub teacher, however, she suddenly decided the sub would get to do the rest of the course as well, completely disregarding the guarantee she had given me and the effort I had put into preparing the course. It wasn't the first time she had done something like that and you can imagine I was quite pissed off. Since that school is also relatively far away and they don't pay that well, I am going to give them up as soon as I find something better.
But let's turn to that weekend away. My friend Stephanie and I decided we had not spent enough time together for the last three years and that we needed to be somewhere we could properly catch up, i.e. a place neither of us knew anybody. This was the perfect excuse to visit a city we had never been to before and we settled on Barcelona. And it was exactly what it was supposed to be. We had long talks, good tapas, lovely wine, cheap sangria and not enough sleep. Even the blizzard that suddenly hit us and kept us locked up in a modern art museum filled with videos of men cutting logs while shouting 'I'm making art'$, revolving chandeliers and typewriters being slowly covered in snow wasn't able to change that. Check out my pictures on Facebook. Thank you, popje, for a wonderful weekend. And yes, do let's make this an annual event!
We have had surprisingly few visitors lately, probably due to the unappealing weather we have been having. It gave us time to explore the area around Berlin a little bit on the weekends. We met up with Nicole & Pieter to visit Wittenberg, the town where Luther nailed his 95 theses to the Castle Church's door. Wittenberg's tiny city centre was cute enough and Luther museum very informative, but its location in the middle of some industrial zone did not endear it much to us. Last weekend, Olaf and I finally went to the Bode museum and explored the numismatic collection, the sections on Italian Renaissance sculptures and French and German baroque art as well as the Byzantine collection.
As of this weekend, though, we should have some more visitors. My brothers are flying in tonight and I am looking forward to this very much. As spring is here, I would like to welcome more of my friends to our diverse city, and our lovely apartment of course.
Oh, btw, I was surfing the Internet and I found an article in which someone wanted to 'sunrise' his argument. That made smile. Or bellow with laughter, rather.
Showing posts with label changes at work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label changes at work. Show all posts
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Changes, illness and uncertainty
Hi all,
To fall right back into my pre-summer pattern, I am very sorry I have not updated for a while. I will not bore you with useless, unbelievable explanations though, but get straight to the (hopefully) interesting stuff.
I am not well. Or, I should say I am relatively unwell. My Delhi belly is still here, although admittedly in a much less serious state, and I am feeling the effects. I am not suffering from the explosive type of diarrhoea that forces you to make a run for the bathroom and hope for the best whenever you feel just the slightest tinkling anymore. Nor am I any longer plagued by cramps and spams in my intestines before and after going to the bathroom. Actually, my condition is under control and things seem to be returning to normal - although there is obviously still something wrong but I will not bore you with the gross details. I have had lots of general antibiotics and other types of killers which have obviously helped but unfortunately not resolved the problem. I am still waiting for the results of tests to be able to fight whatever it is that has nested in my gut more efficiently.
I must say I am quite fed up with it though. Not just with the diarrhoea and medication that does not solve anything, but also with the Italian healthcare system. Italians are paranoid and hypochondriacs and therefore feel the need to have full checkups every two years or so. I, on the other hand, coming from a country where you are taught only to go and see your doctor when there is a serious indication, have obviously never had one before. When my doctor heard this, she nearly fainted and frantically started typing out pages and pages of blood and urine tests that I had to do. That is in addition to the faeces tests she had already told us to do because of the diarrhoea. As it would never even occur to me to doubt a doctor, I consented ("Well, alright, better safe than sorry!!") and did not worry since I have had health insurance in this country for over two years and I assumed basic checkups would be part of that. I could not have been more wrong. Having health insurance in this country means that you pay less than if you do not, it does not cover anything. Which in my case meant I had to pay 70 euros for tests I did not even need. Moreover, GPs in this country are apparently unable to perform even the simplest medical procedures and I had to go to the hospital to get all my tests done. Not only did this mean waiting for an hour three days in a row (we had to do some tests three times on successive days), it also meant filling in piles and piles of paperwork before even getting to see a nurse. And on top of that, it takes between one and two weeks before you get your results back!
As you can imagine, I was not very happy. I was feeling crappy at the time and just wanted to be helped (you know, get some CARE like most sick people do). I had lost 8 kilos in about 5 weeks (about 4 of those I had to get rid of anyway but the other half - which I lost in one week - scared me a lot) and am still physically quite weak - though not working out for two months may have something to do with that as well. Last Tuesday, I slipped off the sidewalk thanks to my new shiny shoes without grip and hit a lamppost with my ribs which are now bruised and hurt whenever I move. But, worst of all, I have a zip on the inside of nose which itches like hell!! Can you imagine the horrors of my life???? *wallowing in self-pity*
Anyway, things have not all been bad. Hotel O&F has opened its doors again and we have been entertaining Jochen (who was here for a conference), Bart and Tineke (who stopped over on their way back from Tuscany) and Lars and Rachel (who were here to celebrate a weekend without children - aka booze up and play games!). Their visits were very enjoyable, though unfortunately not too good for the strict observation of our diet and drinking alcohol while taking antibiotics is usually not such a good idea! Oh well, Tuesdays at La Hora Feliz are back with a vengeance and are now rather the rule than spontaneous gettogethers that happened to be planned on Tuesdays because they always had been. Whatever, it is good to have your own bar! Oh, and I have discovered a new drink: Mojito champagne, yummy!!!
There have also been some changes in my professional life. Changes for the better, I think. I had agreed with Caroline to support her doing admin and course management work in September while she was looking for a replacement for Veronica (our former course manager who left because she found a better job). After a couple of days, she asked me as a joke if I did not want to do it for real and after thinking about it for a night I told her I would like to give it a try. Even though she knew I am only staying until next summer, she offered me a shitload of money if I would do it, which took away any doubts I might still have had about that impulsive decision. So, I am finishing the courses I still have and am easing into office work.
It is a challenge though. It is good money but I am also experiencing some difficulties. On the one hand, there is a lot of information missing that Veronica had in her head and I can not find anywhere - but clearing messes up, getting to the bottom of things, filing and archiving are some of my strengths and things I like doing so that will be fine. On the other hand, I have realised that my Italian just is not up to the mark. It is good and as long I am writing I do not have any problems, but I have found out that my knowledge of Italian is very theoretical. Ask me about subjunctives and conditionals and I can apply the forms correctly - besides telling you fascinating stories about their etymology and linguistic development - but basic, down-to-earth, colloquial Italian is very different from that. I am too focused on applying the correct grammar rules and pronouncing everything in a right way which, combined with my businesslike approach, does not seem to work well with Italians who apparently need to be cooed and wooed. In other words, I apparently come off polite but very direct and not friendly enough. Clashing cultures. I would not dream of making small talk on the phone with random strangers about the weather or how difficult it is to start work again after the holidays when I am supposed to represent a company. But apparently Italians do expect just that!
So, I am worried about having made the right decision and perhaps also about taking on too much. I am tired, feel that things are escaping me and have to send myself an email reminding me that I still have to do something I should have done but forgot. But beginnings are always hard I guess, and perhaps I am even more insecure because I still do not know what is going on inside my body. Vediamo!
Another reason for doubt is that the more students finish their courses, the more I realise how much I am giving up. Teaching English to individuals or small groups is much more than a job. When you see people once or twice a week for a long time, you get close to them. A good teacher is an attentive and trustworthy listener and people talk to you about anything they want. You find out so much about their personal lives, their plans and worries, their fears and hopes. You learn more about their past, present and future than you had thought the grammatical tenses you teach them could imply. But you are not some kind of psychologist, you share a lot of yourself too. You become friends, even though it is just for a short time. As a teacher you have many short-lived, fleeting friendships whose end may cause you pain. I had not realised how much it would hurt me to give up this type of life. The life of spending much time with people talking about their innermost feelings, of traveling for hours a day and of reading at least one book a week, the life of irregular hours and of long days, but also the life of satisfaction after a long day's work has born its fruits and your students are confidently using the constructions and vocabulary you taught them. Maybe it is all for the best though, perhaps this way it will be easier for me to cut the cords when we leave this place a few months from now. It will still be hard saying goodbye to my real friends but at least I will not be bothered by the additional weight of these temporary but profound short friendships.
In short, I am in doubt. But then again, that is nothing new. On to the future. This weekend, we are going to have a Costa Rican dinner with Diana and Jorge and have a 'primitivo' red wine party planned with Cinzia and Louisa. In early October, we are going to test new wine produce at a wine festival in Valtellina with Jen, Louisa and Kate and obviously we are coming to The Netherlands in mid October to look at our new nephews/nephew and niece who will be born by then. We are there from 16 until 21 October so let us meet up!!!
Keeping my fingers crossed for the girls, you have nearly made it! Just a few more days and you will have beautiful children!
Ciao, Fe
To fall right back into my pre-summer pattern, I am very sorry I have not updated for a while. I will not bore you with useless, unbelievable explanations though, but get straight to the (hopefully) interesting stuff.
I am not well. Or, I should say I am relatively unwell. My Delhi belly is still here, although admittedly in a much less serious state, and I am feeling the effects. I am not suffering from the explosive type of diarrhoea that forces you to make a run for the bathroom and hope for the best whenever you feel just the slightest tinkling anymore. Nor am I any longer plagued by cramps and spams in my intestines before and after going to the bathroom. Actually, my condition is under control and things seem to be returning to normal - although there is obviously still something wrong but I will not bore you with the gross details. I have had lots of general antibiotics and other types of killers which have obviously helped but unfortunately not resolved the problem. I am still waiting for the results of tests to be able to fight whatever it is that has nested in my gut more efficiently.
I must say I am quite fed up with it though. Not just with the diarrhoea and medication that does not solve anything, but also with the Italian healthcare system. Italians are paranoid and hypochondriacs and therefore feel the need to have full checkups every two years or so. I, on the other hand, coming from a country where you are taught only to go and see your doctor when there is a serious indication, have obviously never had one before. When my doctor heard this, she nearly fainted and frantically started typing out pages and pages of blood and urine tests that I had to do. That is in addition to the faeces tests she had already told us to do because of the diarrhoea. As it would never even occur to me to doubt a doctor, I consented ("Well, alright, better safe than sorry!!") and did not worry since I have had health insurance in this country for over two years and I assumed basic checkups would be part of that. I could not have been more wrong. Having health insurance in this country means that you pay less than if you do not, it does not cover anything. Which in my case meant I had to pay 70 euros for tests I did not even need. Moreover, GPs in this country are apparently unable to perform even the simplest medical procedures and I had to go to the hospital to get all my tests done. Not only did this mean waiting for an hour three days in a row (we had to do some tests three times on successive days), it also meant filling in piles and piles of paperwork before even getting to see a nurse. And on top of that, it takes between one and two weeks before you get your results back!
As you can imagine, I was not very happy. I was feeling crappy at the time and just wanted to be helped (you know, get some CARE like most sick people do). I had lost 8 kilos in about 5 weeks (about 4 of those I had to get rid of anyway but the other half - which I lost in one week - scared me a lot) and am still physically quite weak - though not working out for two months may have something to do with that as well. Last Tuesday, I slipped off the sidewalk thanks to my new shiny shoes without grip and hit a lamppost with my ribs which are now bruised and hurt whenever I move. But, worst of all, I have a zip on the inside of nose which itches like hell!! Can you imagine the horrors of my life???? *wallowing in self-pity*
Anyway, things have not all been bad. Hotel O&F has opened its doors again and we have been entertaining Jochen (who was here for a conference), Bart and Tineke (who stopped over on their way back from Tuscany) and Lars and Rachel (who were here to celebrate a weekend without children - aka booze up and play games!). Their visits were very enjoyable, though unfortunately not too good for the strict observation of our diet and drinking alcohol while taking antibiotics is usually not such a good idea! Oh well, Tuesdays at La Hora Feliz are back with a vengeance and are now rather the rule than spontaneous gettogethers that happened to be planned on Tuesdays because they always had been. Whatever, it is good to have your own bar! Oh, and I have discovered a new drink: Mojito champagne, yummy!!!
There have also been some changes in my professional life. Changes for the better, I think. I had agreed with Caroline to support her doing admin and course management work in September while she was looking for a replacement for Veronica (our former course manager who left because she found a better job). After a couple of days, she asked me as a joke if I did not want to do it for real and after thinking about it for a night I told her I would like to give it a try. Even though she knew I am only staying until next summer, she offered me a shitload of money if I would do it, which took away any doubts I might still have had about that impulsive decision. So, I am finishing the courses I still have and am easing into office work.
It is a challenge though. It is good money but I am also experiencing some difficulties. On the one hand, there is a lot of information missing that Veronica had in her head and I can not find anywhere - but clearing messes up, getting to the bottom of things, filing and archiving are some of my strengths and things I like doing so that will be fine. On the other hand, I have realised that my Italian just is not up to the mark. It is good and as long I am writing I do not have any problems, but I have found out that my knowledge of Italian is very theoretical. Ask me about subjunctives and conditionals and I can apply the forms correctly - besides telling you fascinating stories about their etymology and linguistic development - but basic, down-to-earth, colloquial Italian is very different from that. I am too focused on applying the correct grammar rules and pronouncing everything in a right way which, combined with my businesslike approach, does not seem to work well with Italians who apparently need to be cooed and wooed. In other words, I apparently come off polite but very direct and not friendly enough. Clashing cultures. I would not dream of making small talk on the phone with random strangers about the weather or how difficult it is to start work again after the holidays when I am supposed to represent a company. But apparently Italians do expect just that!
So, I am worried about having made the right decision and perhaps also about taking on too much. I am tired, feel that things are escaping me and have to send myself an email reminding me that I still have to do something I should have done but forgot. But beginnings are always hard I guess, and perhaps I am even more insecure because I still do not know what is going on inside my body. Vediamo!
Another reason for doubt is that the more students finish their courses, the more I realise how much I am giving up. Teaching English to individuals or small groups is much more than a job. When you see people once or twice a week for a long time, you get close to them. A good teacher is an attentive and trustworthy listener and people talk to you about anything they want. You find out so much about their personal lives, their plans and worries, their fears and hopes. You learn more about their past, present and future than you had thought the grammatical tenses you teach them could imply. But you are not some kind of psychologist, you share a lot of yourself too. You become friends, even though it is just for a short time. As a teacher you have many short-lived, fleeting friendships whose end may cause you pain. I had not realised how much it would hurt me to give up this type of life. The life of spending much time with people talking about their innermost feelings, of traveling for hours a day and of reading at least one book a week, the life of irregular hours and of long days, but also the life of satisfaction after a long day's work has born its fruits and your students are confidently using the constructions and vocabulary you taught them. Maybe it is all for the best though, perhaps this way it will be easier for me to cut the cords when we leave this place a few months from now. It will still be hard saying goodbye to my real friends but at least I will not be bothered by the additional weight of these temporary but profound short friendships.
In short, I am in doubt. But then again, that is nothing new. On to the future. This weekend, we are going to have a Costa Rican dinner with Diana and Jorge and have a 'primitivo' red wine party planned with Cinzia and Louisa. In early October, we are going to test new wine produce at a wine festival in Valtellina with Jen, Louisa and Kate and obviously we are coming to The Netherlands in mid October to look at our new nephews/nephew and niece who will be born by then. We are there from 16 until 21 October so let us meet up!!!
Keeping my fingers crossed for the girls, you have nearly made it! Just a few more days and you will have beautiful children!
Ciao, Fe
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