Which just goes to show that it was an odd sort of night all round. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I did enjoy it. The food was very good – a huge buffet of Western and Asian food; steak, fried rice, sushi, turkey, salmon Wellington, puddings galore, you name it. More than one teacher remarked that they could have lived on the mash for a lifetime. And it was nice to get out, dress up a bit and spend a few hours in a swanky hotel.
It just wasn’t quite what I was expecting. The entertainment during the meal was a trifle random, and with 7 schools in the city all taking part, someone really ought to have imposed a time limit on the video-pantomimes submitted for the talent show… Dear me, but they were a strange insight into the warped imaginations of English teachers and the local staff who have to work with them…The free beer ran out long before midnight, and, after the meal, if you just wanted to sit and chat in air-conditioned comfort you were a bit screwed. The only seating was either in the ballroom (where the DJ was attempting to rupture your eardrums and induce epilepsy with the music and strobe lighting) or outside on the terrace where it was just a teensy bit humid. And I’ll never be able to look at one member of management in the same light again – was this person* extremely drunk, or do they normally dance like that?
View from the terrace of the InterContinental Hotel
And, all the while, I was conscious of my own little control problem. Not having had the time or the money to get a dress made for the occasion, I made do with a long, red, beaded maxi dress I’d brought with me. Unfortunately, as Little Sis pointed out when I bought it, the neckline is just a little bit plunging. Or rather, if I’m not watching what I’m doing, I’m in danger of plunging out of it. I spent half the night twitching and plucking at my straps, and the other half wondering whether it was the free booze or my cleavage that was suddenly encouraging people who’ve spent the past six weeks looking straight through me in the staffroom to come up and talk. One teacher, who I’d observed during induction week, was so well-oiled that in the middle of the disco she came up to me, thrust her bleary face into mine and chuckled that it had been a bit scary being told that not only was someone was going to observe her, but someone who already had the Delta.
Getting Messy - Lip Gloss Attack
It does rather leave me wondering if the combination of the ready-made Delta and my own natural shyness means that people are scared of me. Do they mistake the Delta for ultra-professionalism, and the shyness for arrogance and aloofness? Daft, eh? The Delta doesn’t stop me having rubbish lessons, and I think I’m quite approachable really. Arrogant? Very rarely. Should you be scared of me? Don't think so – unless I’m on the warpath about people leaving flashcards and board erasers scattered around the staffroom…!
From which you may surmise that I did indeed spend Monday morning working on my CV for the AC job. Hangovers were not, in fact, an issue. Tiredness and lethargy were. Actually, other than the occasional need to lie back down, I didn’t feel too bad in the morning. It was the moment I got off the xe om outside school that the tiredness and headache really kicked in.
How I managed to get through the afternoon and prepare reasonably coherent lessons I have only the vaguest idea, but I think it did involve long moments of gazing, stupefied at the backs of the cleaners as they whiled away their breaks playing Blast Billiards on the staffroom computers (an addiction it seems I have since picked up, though only in the privacy of my own home)! Needless to say, my complaints about the mess in the staffroom did not get voiced at the Staff Meeting – although I did perk up a bit at the mention of the Teacher Training department are looking for Delta-qualified teachers to teach the TKT course next year. Hmmm…. interesting…
My lessons actually went quite well, even if I did ask one of my Adult Beginners who works as an anaesthetist if he could hook my up to a coffee drip to try and keep me awake. He just laughed.
The application was finally polished and emailed on Tuesday morning, at which point I was going to go and do some serious shopping ready for Rachel’s arrival next week. However, with power cuts and massive, awesome electrical storms I actually did pretty well just to get to Zen Plaza and invest a million dong in wine glasses, spare towel, frying pan, a couple of plates and a bottle of watery-looking drain unblocker. Got absolutely soaked just running down the steps of the store to the taxi waiting at the kerb.
So it was with some trepidation that I set off for my second late night in three days. Yes, I finally overcame my hermit inclinations and went to the Pub Quiz in Backpackerville. And another bizarre night was had by all… This bar has guest Question Masters each week drawn from the regulars. I missed Rich and Mike’s turn the other week, which by all accounts was quite successful. Sadly, this week’s host provided an object lesson in how to over-complicate the humble pub quiz, with questions running to several paragraphs and answers usually in at least 2 parts. She also included 12 questions per category when the bar’s standard answer sheet only had space for 6, so most teams ran out of space on the back long before we struggled through to the final round. Steve, Louise and I made our rather dazed escape home before the winners were announced. No power cuts this time, but a very lazy unproductive Wednesday morning followed.
* Have to be bit more discreet now with the job application…
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