Blogging my dream

I want to change tack a little with this blog. Shifting your whole life to some weird and wacky country 11,000 miles away where you don’t know anybody, don’t speak the language, don’t have any guaranteed work and have never even set foot in before… well, I guess you could say that’s a fairly major undertaking. For many people with their friends and families and identities all wrapped up in a place called home, it would be like going to Mars (and actually some of the temperatures we got here in January weren’t far off). So I’d like to post a bit more often and talk more about the things I do and see and the people I meet on a daily basis, and the challenges I face with the language and the culture and figuring out the various hows and whys. Last week for instance I took a bus (probably not the best bus, as it turned out) and then traipsed across half the city trying to find a particular shop that might, perhaps, sell the laptop I was looking for. I found the right street, a busy street, a main street. The shop was at 56A and I was outside number 32 so it was clearly just up there a little bit, maybe just past the petrol station. Well it was certainly past the petrol station, and a school, and a few factories, and another petrol station, and a small farm with lots of chickens, and some muddy park of sorts, and I could see a large overhead sign up ahead telling me I was about to leave Timioara entirely, but sure enough there was the shop, a surprisingly big shop in fact, full of empty spaces where my desired laptop might once have been. That trip took over three hours there and back, and I take similar essentially futile excursions on a regular basis, but I learn a little bit more with each one.

Today is officially the last day of winter. There isn’t a cloud in the sky. The temperature is forecast to rocket into the high teens later today. Perfect for me. The streets are lined with stallholders selling mărțișoare, which are little amulets or talismans that people give to each other on the first day of spring. That’s yet another Romanian tradition that is completely new to me. The central squares are packed with people, even in the middle of a work day, and none of them seem to be that bothered to get anywhere in particular. A bit like me really. Do any of them work? Or do they all have “jobs” like mine? The team bus of Poli Timioara, the local football team, has just pulled in and the players have filed into the cathedral, but I don’t even think God can save them from relegation now. They were penalised 14 points for multiple irregularities before the season even started, and they’re now sitting on 13 points, second from bottom, having just been hammered 5-0 in Constanța by the competition leaders Viitorul, or The Future.

I now have five students. Count ’em, five! One of them gets four two-hour lessons from me every week via Skype, one of them can unfortunately only afford one lesson a month, and the rest are somewhere in between. Teaching is bloody great! I get to chat to people one-on-one in a relaxed environment, I get to talk about aspects of language which fascinate me, I get to discuss news articles and song lyrics, I get to improve my Romanian a little bit too, and best of all I gets tons and tons of job satisfaction. I don’t get that awful “what the fuck did I actually do today?” feeling over and over, week in, week out, where nothing ever happens and the needle returns to the start of the song and here we go again. I’m helping people and I’m getting paid for something I enjoy doing. It’s amazing, really. As I keep saying, it’s a dream.


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