Saturday, January 14, 2012
Essay-writing avoidance
Hasn't facebook almost eradicated the need for these things? photos go up there, so do random thoughts. Maybe it is time to pack in the blog. However, I think a general picture of everything is elusive in facebook. Tidbits are thrown at you. the whole picture is never achieved...
Monday, July 21, 2008
Jordan so far...
It has been what feels like 5 million years, I know. Writing about Prague as I know it so well seems futile compared to the ramblings of BKK and life just got in the way.
So, as I know myself well enough to be fully aware that emails detailing what I am up to are a long way away from most of your inboxes (sorry, but at least I admit I am pants) I shall revive my blog so you can read at least about general goings on and maybe I will be spurred into contact as I will only have to write short private messages. Note the use of 'maybe' above...
Here goes,
Amman
Amman is higgledy-piggledy and sprawling. Not quite what I expected, maybe I should have googled some pics before coming but that spoils the surprise. It is built on many hills and clearly Jordanians are skillful at building houses deep into the hillside that look as if they are about to topple over. Another thing I didn't know about Amman is that it boasts the tallest flagpole in the world - how cool is that? Is quite pretty though is hard to get your bearings, have been doing so by using the minarets as point of reference. I live in between first and second circle if that is any help - it is a blooming roundabout - why circle? Whatever. road names are rarely used which means taxi rides can be interesting. Public transport is virtually non-existent. I have been on a bus but that experience shall be detailed later. Can get more things here than can get in Prague, something I have never understood, Bisto, Toffee Crisps, books and magazines all stuff that I ask people to bring me from UK and of course NOT bacon but hey it takes me about a month before I start hankering for some pig obviously less time before I start hankering for some alcohol. I arrived on Saturday by Monday I was on my balcony with a mallet and a knife hacking into a bottle of white I had brought with me - only took half an hour to get in and of course the effort made it taste all the better. Ironically, the next day I found the corner shop by work sells alcohol. Hmph.
My place
ahh, TB and I have a nice flat - woah haven't called him that in a while. Anyway, it is nice, big, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, very odd plumbing, massive living room all in all, nice. And more importantly a terrace which overlooks a valley and has quite a nice view. Ten minutes walk from work. Doesn't appear to have been lived in for about 10 years judging by the layer of dust when we arrived and I do question the Jordanian taste in interior decor when the living room does resemble the waiting room in a funeral home. We don't use that living room.
Classes
Now, having had experience of Bahrainis I wasn't expecting to be too shocked by my students. However, I wasn't expecting a bunch of over eager crazy teens. I was NEVER like that when I was 13 - I ask a question, their hands dart up like their lives depended on it, they are wriggling in their chairs desperate, desperate for me to call their name. They start hissing, teacher, teacher and waving in my direction. All very strange. Top marks is top priority. Last Thursday was the end of term 1 and of course I had to write reports. It was parents day, all a nightmare, I thought the parents were going to come and give me grief but generally they were ok if their kid didn't get excellent across the board and then there was a knock at the door and it was a student from the previous who had been hanging around 2 hours to discuss this with me:
Student: Teacher, please tell me the truth
Me: What's up?
S: Is Omar better than me?
M: What? (bemused look on my face)
S: You gave him all excellents and I got all excellent but one good for spelling
M: that is correct, you make mistakes in you spelling
S: But, so does Omar - is he really better than me? Because I want to be the best
M: What difference does it make? I am not going to answer that question
S: Why you give him all excellents and not me?
M: (random sappy last minute rationale) because you want to be the best but you need to improve your spelling, I know you want to work really hard and be the best and so I am pushing you to do so by not giving you all excellents. Maybe Omar has achieved all he can achieve and therefore I have recognised that. (Yeah, even I wasn't sure of that one but I had to get rid somehow!)
S: Ok, teacher, next term I will be the best.
What? I mean seriously, this teen was upset. Odd. Anyway, that gives a general idea of what I have to put up with. It also gets annoying. Finished, finished! Finished! Is all I hear. the minute they make it through an activity they scream finished at me - my response, What d'ya want? A chocolate biscuit? You have to wait for the others to finish and then we will check it together. I even handed out heart shaped stickers to my teenage boys to put on their work because they were so adamant about me marking every exercise and ticking it. They were excited and failed to see the irony! And homework? they beg for it - they even begged for an end of term test!!! With homework, they queue up as soon as they come into class and shove their books in front of me, shove books on top of each other's so I make them first, wave books in my faces, desperate for acknowledgement that they had completed their homework adequately. They now automatically get 0 if they shove anything in my face coz I can't cope with it to be honest. Unbelievable - and the 7-9 year olds? well, they show me every tiny little thing they have done for approval! I am sure that gives you an idea.
The dead sea
It was super cool. You have to pay to go to a hotel to get to the beach. It is an odd feeling that the other side of the dead sea is the West bank! You can see Jericho as you drive down there. Your ears pop because it is the lowest point in the world - 400M under sea level. You can't put your head under water because the salt stings your eyes. You realise how many cuts you have on your body as they all start stinging! I shan't tell you where I discovered some but it was a bit of a surprise - no, not there! You have to fight to get your feet on the ground because your legs automotically bob to the surface. It was cool. You dig underwater for the mud. We caked each other up, stood about in the blazing sun then washed it all off. I do have pics, they will go up later. Then we headed to bethany - supposedly where Jesus was baptised. I traipsed about in 50 degree heat in the blazing sun to see this, a hole with water in it. And the river of Jordan? mmmm more like the ditch of Jordan though it took a lot of me, knowing that Israel was a mere leap across the ditch to not throw myself across for the hell of it. But, military zone, mines etc. think TB saw the flash in my eyes and started tugging on my shirt to prevent me from doing a runner. Anyway, it was all very interesting.
Karak
That was last weekend. Karak is a medieval castle occupied a lot by Saladin and important during the crusades. More importantly, you can wander around freely it has lots of tunnels and secret passages you need a torch for. It is high up overlooking the valley where Sodom and Gomorrah are apparently. It was great. I was with boys so you can imagine the fun they had hiding round the corners 'surprising' me and what not. The prison area and dungeons were cool. It is still kind of being excavated in places and work is being done out front. The workers appear to use some of the crevices as toilets - not a pleasant surprise! We went by bus. Now, smoking in Jordan is everywhere - I was shocked to be in a shopping mall in Bata with a guy serving me whilst smoking behind the counter. Well, the buses are about 20 years old, have thick velvet curtains to block out the sun and soak up 20 years of sweat and smoke. People smoke on the buses and the bus doesn't go anywhere until full. Which means you could wait up to two hours before you go anywhere. It is basically like an overheated Czech pub on wheels minus the alcohol. Karak is two hours from Amman but felt like an eternity at points.
Right I will leave it there for now. Petra is happening soon. Pics up soon also.
So, as I know myself well enough to be fully aware that emails detailing what I am up to are a long way away from most of your inboxes (sorry, but at least I admit I am pants) I shall revive my blog so you can read at least about general goings on and maybe I will be spurred into contact as I will only have to write short private messages. Note the use of 'maybe' above...
Here goes,
Amman
Amman is higgledy-piggledy and sprawling. Not quite what I expected, maybe I should have googled some pics before coming but that spoils the surprise. It is built on many hills and clearly Jordanians are skillful at building houses deep into the hillside that look as if they are about to topple over. Another thing I didn't know about Amman is that it boasts the tallest flagpole in the world - how cool is that? Is quite pretty though is hard to get your bearings, have been doing so by using the minarets as point of reference. I live in between first and second circle if that is any help - it is a blooming roundabout - why circle? Whatever. road names are rarely used which means taxi rides can be interesting. Public transport is virtually non-existent. I have been on a bus but that experience shall be detailed later. Can get more things here than can get in Prague, something I have never understood, Bisto, Toffee Crisps, books and magazines all stuff that I ask people to bring me from UK and of course NOT bacon but hey it takes me about a month before I start hankering for some pig obviously less time before I start hankering for some alcohol. I arrived on Saturday by Monday I was on my balcony with a mallet and a knife hacking into a bottle of white I had brought with me - only took half an hour to get in and of course the effort made it taste all the better. Ironically, the next day I found the corner shop by work sells alcohol. Hmph.
My place
ahh, TB and I have a nice flat - woah haven't called him that in a while. Anyway, it is nice, big, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, very odd plumbing, massive living room all in all, nice. And more importantly a terrace which overlooks a valley and has quite a nice view. Ten minutes walk from work. Doesn't appear to have been lived in for about 10 years judging by the layer of dust when we arrived and I do question the Jordanian taste in interior decor when the living room does resemble the waiting room in a funeral home. We don't use that living room.
Classes
Now, having had experience of Bahrainis I wasn't expecting to be too shocked by my students. However, I wasn't expecting a bunch of over eager crazy teens. I was NEVER like that when I was 13 - I ask a question, their hands dart up like their lives depended on it, they are wriggling in their chairs desperate, desperate for me to call their name. They start hissing, teacher, teacher and waving in my direction. All very strange. Top marks is top priority. Last Thursday was the end of term 1 and of course I had to write reports. It was parents day, all a nightmare, I thought the parents were going to come and give me grief but generally they were ok if their kid didn't get excellent across the board and then there was a knock at the door and it was a student from the previous who had been hanging around 2 hours to discuss this with me:
Student: Teacher, please tell me the truth
Me: What's up?
S: Is Omar better than me?
M: What? (bemused look on my face)
S: You gave him all excellents and I got all excellent but one good for spelling
M: that is correct, you make mistakes in you spelling
S: But, so does Omar - is he really better than me? Because I want to be the best
M: What difference does it make? I am not going to answer that question
S: Why you give him all excellents and not me?
M: (random sappy last minute rationale) because you want to be the best but you need to improve your spelling, I know you want to work really hard and be the best and so I am pushing you to do so by not giving you all excellents. Maybe Omar has achieved all he can achieve and therefore I have recognised that. (Yeah, even I wasn't sure of that one but I had to get rid somehow!)
S: Ok, teacher, next term I will be the best.
What? I mean seriously, this teen was upset. Odd. Anyway, that gives a general idea of what I have to put up with. It also gets annoying. Finished, finished! Finished! Is all I hear. the minute they make it through an activity they scream finished at me - my response, What d'ya want? A chocolate biscuit? You have to wait for the others to finish and then we will check it together. I even handed out heart shaped stickers to my teenage boys to put on their work because they were so adamant about me marking every exercise and ticking it. They were excited and failed to see the irony! And homework? they beg for it - they even begged for an end of term test!!! With homework, they queue up as soon as they come into class and shove their books in front of me, shove books on top of each other's so I make them first, wave books in my faces, desperate for acknowledgement that they had completed their homework adequately. They now automatically get 0 if they shove anything in my face coz I can't cope with it to be honest. Unbelievable - and the 7-9 year olds? well, they show me every tiny little thing they have done for approval! I am sure that gives you an idea.
The dead sea
It was super cool. You have to pay to go to a hotel to get to the beach. It is an odd feeling that the other side of the dead sea is the West bank! You can see Jericho as you drive down there. Your ears pop because it is the lowest point in the world - 400M under sea level. You can't put your head under water because the salt stings your eyes. You realise how many cuts you have on your body as they all start stinging! I shan't tell you where I discovered some but it was a bit of a surprise - no, not there! You have to fight to get your feet on the ground because your legs automotically bob to the surface. It was cool. You dig underwater for the mud. We caked each other up, stood about in the blazing sun then washed it all off. I do have pics, they will go up later. Then we headed to bethany - supposedly where Jesus was baptised. I traipsed about in 50 degree heat in the blazing sun to see this, a hole with water in it. And the river of Jordan? mmmm more like the ditch of Jordan though it took a lot of me, knowing that Israel was a mere leap across the ditch to not throw myself across for the hell of it. But, military zone, mines etc. think TB saw the flash in my eyes and started tugging on my shirt to prevent me from doing a runner. Anyway, it was all very interesting.
Karak
That was last weekend. Karak is a medieval castle occupied a lot by Saladin and important during the crusades. More importantly, you can wander around freely it has lots of tunnels and secret passages you need a torch for. It is high up overlooking the valley where Sodom and Gomorrah are apparently. It was great. I was with boys so you can imagine the fun they had hiding round the corners 'surprising' me and what not. The prison area and dungeons were cool. It is still kind of being excavated in places and work is being done out front. The workers appear to use some of the crevices as toilets - not a pleasant surprise! We went by bus. Now, smoking in Jordan is everywhere - I was shocked to be in a shopping mall in Bata with a guy serving me whilst smoking behind the counter. Well, the buses are about 20 years old, have thick velvet curtains to block out the sun and soak up 20 years of sweat and smoke. People smoke on the buses and the bus doesn't go anywhere until full. Which means you could wait up to two hours before you go anywhere. It is basically like an overheated Czech pub on wheels minus the alcohol. Karak is two hours from Amman but felt like an eternity at points.
Right I will leave it there for now. Petra is happening soon. Pics up soon also.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
does any of it work?
So, I travelled from Prague to Bahrain yesterday. Not by bus, of course, but by plane. it never ceases to amaze me how particularly annoying these kinds of journey can be. You'd think it was pretty straightforward. Being asked at the airport at check-in where my visa was when I didn't have one was not the greatest start to my day - thankfully she phoned someone and realised I could get it upon arrival. Phew.
Not a single one of my flights actually took off on time, although knowing my history with flying that doesn't really come as a surprise. there is always something very interesting and quintessentially British while transferring at Heathrow airport. Upon arrival we had to sit on the plane for about half an hour just waiting to get off because someone had forgotten to put the chocks on the plane and the man with the stairs was refusing to put them by the plane until the chocks were there. Of course the captain was giving us a blow-by-blow account of what was going including a minute by minute schedule of when we were going to get out of the plane. due to this, I had no time in between my flights to stop off a smiths not even to get a whiff of heat or some crisps it was straight on to the next one. Why I rushed between terminals is beyond me.
there is always that sinking feeling when you go through a gate, expect to see the plane and are confronted with a bus. We were all herded on and off we went. We then sat outside the plane on the bus for half an hour. No one of course said anything. All of us were just sat in silence staring into space. that kind of boredom that sets in when people start reading the ingredients on the back of their water bottle. I also discovered that people acutally buy and read magazines about digital cameras. You start to examine everything around you, can see who went out last night, who didn't, who got up early this morning, who didn't, who is older than you actually thought at first glance. Yet, no one breathes a word and I just sit there wondering - does any form of transport in this country actually ever work?
Not a single one of my flights actually took off on time, although knowing my history with flying that doesn't really come as a surprise. there is always something very interesting and quintessentially British while transferring at Heathrow airport. Upon arrival we had to sit on the plane for about half an hour just waiting to get off because someone had forgotten to put the chocks on the plane and the man with the stairs was refusing to put them by the plane until the chocks were there. Of course the captain was giving us a blow-by-blow account of what was going including a minute by minute schedule of when we were going to get out of the plane. due to this, I had no time in between my flights to stop off a smiths not even to get a whiff of heat or some crisps it was straight on to the next one. Why I rushed between terminals is beyond me.
there is always that sinking feeling when you go through a gate, expect to see the plane and are confronted with a bus. We were all herded on and off we went. We then sat outside the plane on the bus for half an hour. No one of course said anything. All of us were just sat in silence staring into space. that kind of boredom that sets in when people start reading the ingredients on the back of their water bottle. I also discovered that people acutally buy and read magazines about digital cameras. You start to examine everything around you, can see who went out last night, who didn't, who got up early this morning, who didn't, who is older than you actually thought at first glance. Yet, no one breathes a word and I just sit there wondering - does any form of transport in this country actually ever work?
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