The Rock's promo on Raw last night was so awesome that it inspired me and I thought about channelling some of that energy and charisma in my class. I have some dialogue to read out and a vision of The Rock appears in my head and starts to take shape and it is warm and close enough to touch but The Rock fades out of focus and dissolves and is gone.
I settle for reading louder than usual and the students follow but by the end we are not so loud, which the other teacher notes. Was that because I dropped off or did the students lose interest? Maybe both. Sitting down hurts my thighs and my knees and my back and standing back up is so hard that it hardly seemed worth sitting down in the first place. Everyone is enjoying the Pokemon trump game I printed off (but did not create) and walking around seeing the children smile and laugh reminds me of something that was once lost that might one day return but the memory is now too weak and it slips away.
Mark Kermode and Simon Mayo's movie podcast entertains me on the taxi ride home. As cold as it is outside, all trains, taxis and staffrooms are just as hot inside. The contrast is too shocking and it makes me sick and everyone is wearing winter clothes anyway so it doesn't need to be so hot inside right? I roll down the window just to breathe and the driver turns off the heater. Nothing is said.
On my bike on the way to the post office to pick up my books which couldn't fit in my post box a little seven year old girl is in the middle of the path swinging her school bag around and she stops because she recognises me but she is mistaken because I have never seen her before. Her pink t-shirt looks like a rag draped over bones. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed she starts to form a word "Ja... Jan..." and her big wet eyes follow me as I ride past almost hitting her. The image is like something out of a movie about poverty which doesn't fit because my movie is about alienation, anxiety and gaining wisdom through loss.
The woman at the post office speaks Japanese. She says that the books have not yet returned but if I am home between seven and nine they can be resent to me and I say okay. During this she attempts some English words because she maybe thinks I don't understand even though I am nodding my head and responding in Japanese. It doesn't annoy me because the woman is just being considerate and I do not look lucid and smiles are not coming easily.
I settle for reading louder than usual and the students follow but by the end we are not so loud, which the other teacher notes. Was that because I dropped off or did the students lose interest? Maybe both. Sitting down hurts my thighs and my knees and my back and standing back up is so hard that it hardly seemed worth sitting down in the first place. Everyone is enjoying the Pokemon trump game I printed off (but did not create) and walking around seeing the children smile and laugh reminds me of something that was once lost that might one day return but the memory is now too weak and it slips away.
Mark Kermode and Simon Mayo's movie podcast entertains me on the taxi ride home. As cold as it is outside, all trains, taxis and staffrooms are just as hot inside. The contrast is too shocking and it makes me sick and everyone is wearing winter clothes anyway so it doesn't need to be so hot inside right? I roll down the window just to breathe and the driver turns off the heater. Nothing is said.
On my bike on the way to the post office to pick up my books which couldn't fit in my post box a little seven year old girl is in the middle of the path swinging her school bag around and she stops because she recognises me but she is mistaken because I have never seen her before. Her pink t-shirt looks like a rag draped over bones. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed she starts to form a word "Ja... Jan..." and her big wet eyes follow me as I ride past almost hitting her. The image is like something out of a movie about poverty which doesn't fit because my movie is about alienation, anxiety and gaining wisdom through loss.
The woman at the post office speaks Japanese. She says that the books have not yet returned but if I am home between seven and nine they can be resent to me and I say okay. During this she attempts some English words because she maybe thinks I don't understand even though I am nodding my head and responding in Japanese. It doesn't annoy me because the woman is just being considerate and I do not look lucid and smiles are not coming easily.
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