Month: October 2019

Family

Pain, pain, go away

October 30, 2019 plutomanby 0 Comments

This morning I called my aunt for her 72nd birthday. She seems remarkably good these days when I talk to her, but she still has episodes of severe depression and her world has become very small. That’s sad. I wish there was some way she could escape that cycle.

Sunday was a shocker of a day for me. I’d struggled all night with medium-level sinus pain, which became more severe during my lesson in the morning. I was begging for the clock to tick round to twelve and to be alone. When my student left, the pain became unbearable. Screwdriver rammed right up my nose. Pure torture. It was a sunny day and I staggered over to the curtains to block out the light as best I could. I tried pacing around; it was too painful to either sit or stand. Then I stumbled to the sink where I was sick. It took two hours for the pain to subside. I felt shattered and feeble for the rest of the afternoon, and it took until my 8pm Skype lesson to properly enter the world of the living again. My student gave me the name of a Bucharest-based specialist he thought I should get in touch with. But then, after reading a few websites, it dawned on me: maybe these aren’t sinus headaches after all. Maybe they’re migraines. I have all the symptoms, plus the family history.

Fortunately these bouts of excruciating pain don’t occur too often for me. That isn’t the case for my father, who has suffered from crippling migraines since he was a teenager, and has had headaches on a daily basis since about the time he got out of hospital. I spoke to him last night. He said that if they continue like this, his life will effectively be over. A permanent cloud, shrouding everything. The time zone change meant I could speak to Dad while Mum was at golf, without having to stay up past midnight. I get on very well with Mum these days, but occasionally it’s nice to speak to him when she isn’t there.

I also had a quick chat to my brother, who surprised and delighted me when he said he and his wife plan to come to Timișoara next April. It would be a pleasure to have them here.

It’s looks like the UK will be having an election in December. We might see a three-figure Tory majority. What a bloody fantastic Christmas present that would be. Not.

Life :) - Photos - Tennis

Caught up (and some autumn colours)

October 21, 2019 plutomanby 0 Comments

So last week I had my usual pair of two-hour lessons with the woman who doesn’t like speaking English, and I mentioned in passing that I played tennis but struggled to find anyone to play with. She said, why not have a game with my son at the weekend? Yes, sounds good. I popped along to the nearby courts to book a session. The only time they had a court free was from 11 till 12 on Sunday (yesterday) when her son was busy, so she suggested that she take his place. Fine. All booked. Then at around 9am yesterday I got an unusual WhatsApp message in reasonable English. Who’s this? It was her husband, telling me not to arrange anything for his wife or son during the weekend in future. Well it wasn’t my idea, but I replied politely. I understand. Weekends are family time. The next thing I knew, he appeared to have blocked me from WhatsApp. His wife was oblivious to the WhatsApp stuff until this morning, when she must have got hold of his phone. She sent me a long message of apology, talking about possessive Romanian men. I want nothing to do with this. For now, the lessons with her and her son will still go ahead, and they provide me with a quarter of my income. I will tread carefully. (Money doesn’t seem to be much of an issue for them. He clearly makes lots of it, but I don’t know what he does.)

It was a beautiful morning yesterday, and we did play tennis. She had hardly played before, and most of the exercise I got was from picking up balls that went here, there and everywhere. I told her that if she wanted to improve, the best way would be to hit against the wall for an hour. She certainly won’t be hitting with me again in the near future.

Brexit. I’m now totally, officially, lost. Boris Johnson does seem to just about have the numbers for his deal, which is basically the same as Theresa May’s that was defeated three times but a smidgen more Brexity, but will that even matter? Does any of this even matter anymore? Here in Romania, the government fell the week before last, and we’ll soon be on to our fifth prime minister in the time I’ve been here.

Here are some pictures from the area around Piața Traian, and a few autumnal shots. There’s even one of (a bit of) me in a hammock, which is the closest thing to a selfie you’ll ever get on here. It’s pretty awesome when I think about it. Not so long ago, if I felt a bit stressed during a work day, I might have been able to walk around a business park for a few minutes. Now I can go an actual park and lie in a hammock.

The sun setting over the Bega
Language teaching - Life :)

Hell-oween

October 20, 2019 plutomanby 0 Comments

Yesterday I saw those two boys again. The big one made noises about wishing I could stick around beyond our allotted hour, while the little one wasn’t showing much sign of life at all by the end of the session. The “highlight” was when I mentioned Halloween. The older boy looked at me as if I’d just said the C-word (which in Romanian is the P-word). It was soon apparent that the family are devout Orthodox Christians. It’s OK mate, I’ve never done Halloween either. When I got home I had my first lesson with the wife of my very first student, veteran of 127 lessons. She was very good – I’d put her at an 8½ on my 0-to-10 scale. When I started out I didn’t know how to help people at that level, but now I realise there are so many subtleties and nuances and quirks that even advanced students don’t know about. Inevitably, perhaps, she asked me about her husband’s lessons. Why hasn’t he improved more? Is he lazy? Hmmm, I’m going to get into trouble here if I’m not careful. No, he’s not lazy, I said, but he’s quite happy just chatting, reading, listening to songs, playing games, and doing a few grammar exercises here and there. The truth (as I’ve gathered from our many conversations) is that he has a fairly stressful work and home life, and comes to my place mainly to relax. That’s his goal.

This morning I had a lesson on the seventh floor of one of the tower blocks in my next picture. I felt more like a psychiatrist than an English teacher. Here are some pictures I took from Piața Dacia just after that lesson:

I bought plums, apples and sweetcorn from this stall
Imported from the US. Some Romanian kids certainly do do Halloween.
Family - Language learning - Language teaching - Life :)

Memories of prehistory

October 14, 2019 plutomanby 0 Comments

Last week my dad got an email from daughter of my old kindergarten teacher at Hemingford Abbots, not that we used the word “kindergarten”. We didn’t say “preschool” either. It was playschool, or sometimes playgroup. It sounds so much more fun, doesn’t it? My old teacher is still alive; she’s now 87. My grandmother taught her daughter history of art (she became a teacher late in the day – in her early fifties – and the change of scenery rid her of crippling depression almost instantly). My dad forwarded the email on to me, and I replied, trying to remember what I could from her mother’s playschool sessions. The little black dog she used to bring in. My fourth birthday. I also remember a time I was stuck on the toilet, unable to go, and she told me to “make an effort”. I didn’t mention that episode in my email.

Nine cancellations in the last two weeks, not to mention the people who have given up. On the plus side, I’ve had some new people, including another pair of brothers, aged seven and nearly ten. Their mother (who could speak reasonable English) told me at the start of the lesson that she’d need to stick around and interpret everything I said, and I tried to put her off doing that. (My Romanian is good enough, I like to think, that I can get by without an interpreter.) They also have a little brother, aged just one. If I’m still here in a few years… Yesterday I had another duo – two women in their twenties. Trying to get the present simple and present continuous across to them was no simple feat. One of them seemed particularly vacant during that part of the session, glued to her phone while her so-called smart watch buzzed. I couldn’t entirely disguise my annoyance.

My mother has – surprisingly – developed what I’d almost term an addiction to Duolingo. She’s been learning French on it for several months. As addictions go, that’s a pretty good one to have, but I wonder how much she’s really learning. She seems pretty motivated by trying to gain promotion to the ruby league, or emerald league, or whatever it is. In the last two weeks I’ve been using Duolingo to learn (or re-learn) Italian, and yeah, I can see how it can draw you in.

I haven’t managed to play tennis since that time a month ago. I’ve made three court bookings with the same guy, but each time he’s pulled out because of the weather or (the last time) because he was “unexpectedly” out of the city. I think he’s simply got better things to do than spend time with me. (I’m used to that feeling.) When he pulled out last week, I hit against the wall for an hour, at one stage keeping a rally going for ten minutes.

My apartment in Wellington. They just want to sell. Now. To me, this is a total capitulation, a surrender (to go all Boris Johnson), and I can’t see how selling will benefit me while I get $24,000 in rent every year I keep hold of the place. But doing anything else feels almost politically impossible. I’m being pressured to consult a lawyer, which will cost me thousands, and I’m on the other side of the world, dammit. The thing that really rankles is that I’m being asked to urgently care about something – the sales process – that I don’t care about in the slightest. “Please progress this,” I was asked. Oh god. You’re using “progress” as a transitive verb. I wish I could disappear the whole thing.

It’s deosebit de cald – unusually warm – for this time of year. The centre of town has been packed all weekend as a result. In the forecast there’s a row of suns and temperatures in the mid-twenties, stretching out as far as it will go.

Language learning - Language teaching - Life :)

No subtitles

October 7, 2019 plutomanby 0 Comments

I’ve just watched a Romanian film, Principii de Viață, and I watched it without subtitles. This wasn’t easy due to the sheer speed they talked at. It seemed they were only saying every third word. I’ll do this again – I think it’s an extremely valuable exercise for improving my listening. As for the film, the ending wasn’t quite what I expected.

Matei’s parents invited me to have dinner at their place in Dumbrăvița on Friday night. It was a good evening. We had plenty of traditional Romanian food – pork, slănină (smoked bacon fat), smântână with mămăligă, and pickled cucumbers. I also had a few shots of Romanian liquor – quite what, I wasn’t totally sure. (I’m not really a spirit drinker, and when I’m eating, I’d much rather have more liquid to wash it down.) We talked about Matei’s (expensive) new “British” school, where he has every lesson in English, except Romanian. So, after 118 sessions, he doesn’t need me anymore. After dinner we sat outside; Matei’s dad had lit a fire. I spoke English and Romanian, roughly equally. I left at about 11:40. According to the version of the timetable I had, the last bus to Timișoara left at three minutes to midnight. Matei’s parents’ friends told me there wouldn’t be any buses at that sort of time. I trusted them more than the timetable, but I thought I’d stand outside the bus stop anyway (expecting to be calling a taxi), and sure enough, on the dot of 11:57 the bus came.

At 10am on Saturday I had my back-to-back lessons with the sister and brother. As usual, the big sister just wanted to talk. I do bring actual material with me, just in case, but I know I probably won’t need it.

It’s cooling down. Autumn here is quite lovely with all the yellows and browns, the colours that remind me of when I arrived in this city three years ago tomorrow. It’s been that long.