Why does it happen to me? I want to teach my classes! I'm not sick or tired! A week ago, Sophia fell ill and I had to leave, although I felt fine and my assistant was sick. A couple weeks ago, I had to leave immediately, without warning, to go to the hospital to get a foreign-teacher X-ray. I missed teaching 2 classes, which I had not wanted, and Valerie had missed her only break of the day, which she had not wanted.
So today, my first three periods were free, and I set to making a calendar to use in the classroom. I also had some laminating to do, I needed to use the computer to make the numbers and weather symbols for the calendar, and I was supposed to write in the all-important "Journal" (more on that later). I also had duty--standing in the boring 2nd floor during breaks.
My Kazakh teacher and assistant were both sleeping in the lounge. I did my work, but soon finished with what I could do. I had no markers, and usually I borrow some from a student, but they were in the classroom having Russian class, and I wasn't about to disturb. I couldn't use the computer for the same reason. I couldn't laminate because the IT guy (who works in the copy room where the laminator is) was not here. I couldn't write in the Journal because I could not find it. While I was looking for all these things, the teachers turned off the lights in the teachers' lounge to aid their sleep.
So I quietly sat in the teachers' lounge and wrote a list of things I was unable to do during my break. It looks like sleeping is the best option!!!
Not long before my first class of the day was to begin--5th grade math--the principal called me to his office. My landlady had called and finally--after weeks of delaying--she said that the guy who would fix my windows was coming. (The windows in the kitchen and my bedroom have a draft. This is not bad now, however once it gets cold the rooms will become way too cold.) He was coming within the hour and there was no way to change the time or date and I had to be there with her. The principal was just as unhappy as I was; however, he was prepared for me to miss class and to drive me to my apartment.
So I ran to find the vice principal (who had taught my 5th grade class before I had arrived) and handed him some papers that I had copied for them. We don't really do subs here. If a teacher is absent, another teacher fills in with another subject. But if I leave worksheets, they might get done.
I went to tell my Kazakh teacher and assistant that I would be leaving. The Kazakh teacher looked exhausted. I asked her if she was sick or just tired. Sick, she said. I joked, could she go home in my place? She laughed.
I went to see the principal and asked if someone could go instead of me. "Who?" he asked. I suggested my Kazakh teacher and Valerie, who had a full load but wouldn't mind missing the way I do. He at first thought I wanted someone to go as a translator--my landlady doesn't speak English and doesn't seem to like me. But no, I wanted someone to go instead of me! He then suggested sending the IT guy. But that didn't seem quite so good a fit. I don't think he'd be too happy being forced to leave his work to sit at my apartment with my landlady. My Kazakh teacher or Valerie would be thrilled at such an idea, but not him. Plus, I had left the apartment in complete disorder--laundry hanging, dirty dishes, unmade beds.
So we decided that it would be best if I went. Ugh. At least it might look good on me, being so desperate not to miss class (although he probably thought I was just desperate not to have to spend alone time with my landlady).
So he drove me home and told me to call him when I was done. I sat and waited for about half an hour for my landlady, who luckily showed up with one of her daughters, who speaks a little English. The landlady commented that it was warm in the kitchen, not cold. She then said that last year three little children had lived in this apartment and it wasn't cold then. I was angry but held my tongue--one, I don't want to anger my landlady; two, I don't speak the language well enough to express myself. On one of my first days here, when she had come over to give me the 2nd key, she had told me about the draft and that she would get someone to fix it!!! I had brought it up to the principal only because I had been told about it. Sure, the kitchen and my bedroom were colder than Sophia's room, but I know so little about heating systems I probably wouldn't have noticed. So why act like it wasn't a problem last year and it has something to do with me?
She was also displeased about the wardrobe door--the huge, beautiful wardrobe in my bedroom has obnoxious, heavy sliding doors. They get stuck quite easily and one--the one with a full-length mirror--finally came off. Despite its incredible weight, I tried to put it back up, but in the end I failed. I had mentioned it once to the principal, but it wasn't on the top of my list of concerns.
It was somewhat funny watching this tiny middle-aged lady try to light the heavy door and put it back herself.
Again, not my fault. The dumb doors didn't work when I arrived.
We waited for about two hours. We attempted minimal conversation, and then her daughter had to leave. Luckily, she had the smarts to go into the living room/bedroom and turn on the TV. I then took this opportunity to use my much-loved Internet connection.
At one point, she reached into her purse and took out an apple and handed one to me. As I was missing my free school lunch and was rather hungry, I was very grateful for this apple. It was rather bruised and black, but I ate it.
Her other daughter, the one who speaks better English, showed up, and finally the "master"--the guy who would fix the windows--showed up. He spent no more than five minutes looking at the windows and then said he would return tomorrow. What?!?!
Luckily tomorrow is a holiday, but still... I got the landlady's daughter to say they would call me to tell me what time he would show up, so I wouldn't be stuck sitting around the apartment all day.
After they left, I looked at the clock. Lunch had just ended and 6th period had just begun. I could probably get back to school in time to teach 7th period--English to my first graders. Not only are they never well-behaved at the end of the day, but this is the last day before holidays! I was famished--I had missed lunch, and had only had a measly apple. So I ate. I may be upset that I missed classes, but I am not about to return just in time to teach the worst class of the day.
After eating a miserable lunch--bread and Nutella, anyone? (that had been my breakfast!) I called the principal, who said that he could pick me up if I could wait another 30 - 40 minutes. Could I! That would guarantee that I would miss 7th period. No problem here.
I had more time on the Internet and then the principal picked me up and drove me back to the school. So my last day before holidays I spent in my apartment, waiting with my landlady for several hours for a guy to show up and say that he'd return the next day. Goodness.
All I can say is this--at least I'm not being overworked!!!
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