The alarm clock sounded this morning at 8h and, for the first time since arriving in what is, according to a recent survey, the happiest place in the UK, I actually got up with a smile. I set about getting dressed - in jeans! I ate a leisurely breakfast and finished the packing which I started last night. By 9h30 I was ready to leave. I called for a taxi (there was no way I was pulling an even heavier-than-when-I arrived-suitcase, handbag, rucksack and another bag filled with a kellogg's crunchy nut cornflake box which itself was filled with cadbury's hot chocolate powder, crunchy nut and clementines, all the way to the train station! My taxi arrived pretty quickly. The driver lifted my suitcase in to the boot despite my warning that it was heavy and asked me where I wanted to go. I said the train station. He asked me whether I was going anywhere nice, I said I was going home. He asked me whether I was coming back to Bournemouth. I said no, so he asked how long I'd been here for, I said Saturday and so the conversation went on ending with him asking me whether I was stealing anything from the house I was moving out of!! It turns out he was asking (jovially) as on Saturday the police went to the taxi office asking questions about a man who'd called for a taxi as he was moving house, he'd taken his widescreen tv with him. Turns out it wasn't his widescreen tv at all, infact it wasn't even his house - he was burgling it!
I arrived at the station, having not stolen anything from the flat/appartment I'd moved out of, not really knowing how I was going to get from Bournemouth to Ludlow. I presumed I'd just do the route I'd done on Saturday but in reverse. But not according to the National rail website which was routing me via Stockport! I asked for a ticket to Ludlow and for him to tell me how to get there and he said 'There's a direct train in 5 minutes'. I said 'What?! To Ludlow?!' He thought I'd said 'London'. It was fine though, I did just do the Saturday route in reverse - Bournemouth - Southampton Central, Southampton Central - Newport, Newport - Ludlow. And there I was home. Home and happy.
mercredi 30 juillet 2008
mardi 29 juillet 2008
No thank you.
I got up this morning and put on outfit number 2 - black trousers and purple shirt. I ate breakfast whilst watching the BBC breakfast news programme. I left the flat/appartment at 8h15. When I arrived at work I went to the staffroom. I hung my jacket and bag up and put my lunch in the fridge. The crowds round the notice board had moved to the whiteboard where notices are written - room changes, cover lessons, notes to tell us they're testing the fire alarm (which, due to bad handwriting looked like 'don't worry the fire alarm is being fished this morning') etc etc. There was nothing relevant to me so I did the last of my photocopying and began looking for my textbooks and class register that were supposed to have appeared overnight. No surprised that at 8h45, with 30 minutes until teaching begins, there was no sign of either.
The text books appeared along with the class register at about 9h05. I was a text book short. I went down to reception and was given another one. I was also told the teacher's book would be ordered for me and oh, by the way - you have 5 students, not 4. It was now 9h10 - 5 minutes before lessons begin and I had to photocopy one extra of every sheet for the student I had only just been told would be in my class and for who I had no register sheet. As you can tell, the day was getting off to a fantastically organised start! When the bell sounded I went to meet my class - there were 5 of them, students that is, - 2 French speakers, a Hungarian, a Polish IT student and a Spanish PE teacher. They were supposed to be pre intermediate. They never were. They were more intermediate than anything. That meant the course text book, which I have to use, was too easy for them. That and it being one of the worst course text books I've ever encountered. Note to self: avoid Clockwise EFL textbooks. Anyway, the morning went very very slowly with the students looking about as bored as me. At the end of the lesson one of the students asked me whether she could move up a level as she'd found it all too easy this morning. You and the rest of the class my dear I felt like saying but instead I told her I'd see what I could do. When lunch finally rolled around (again it had been a case of, at several points in the morning, me being convinced time had stopped but no, on closer inspection of my watch the seconds were turning to minutes just significantly more slowly than they do when you're rushing to catch a train) I popped into reception to pick up my contract. I was told the Principal hadn't signed it, I said I didn't mind, there was just something I wanted to look at. I then went to the staffroom and had to find the morning teacher of my afternoon class to see what he had taught which enabled me to plan for my afternoon class. After eating lunch and liaising with the teacher it didn't leave much time to plan and ended in me pulling a book of the shelf and deciding that that'll do. Trouble was I then needed a cassette player and a cassette and I needed to get my cassette in the right place. I don't know if it's just me but I presumed, maybe quite stupidly, that the >> on a cassette player would mean fast forward and the <<>> is rewind and the << is fast forward! I don't know if you remember but I had no room allocated for this class, I also didn't know how many students there were going to be and I didn't have a register either. Well, I was told there were 6 students and we came to the conclusion I'd be in room 6. So at 14h off I went down to room 6 which is at the back of the cafeteria. I arrived and realised I needed a code to open the door. Off I went to reception for the code. When I went back to room 6 another teacher was there. She was teaching L4.2 in room 6. Hmm, ok, so where was I and where was my class - L5.2? Off I went back to reception. They sent me to room 15 where I found a group, a rather large group may I add, of students all standing up talking about where they should be. By this time it was 14h15. I asked them what level they were. Some were L5.2 - which I kept. The others were L4.2 which I sent to room 6 where I'd just come from. I now had 4 students. We did some vocab activities and didn't even get onto the listening which I'd just spent goodness only knows how long finding with the, what was in my opinion, backwards cassette player!
After this lesson I went back up to the staffroom. I sat for a while watching everyone flapping around. One of the teacher was getting angry and having a paddy as someone had stolen a cassette from his desk and it was the only copy of that cassette and now he couldn't do the lesson he'd planned and and and it all resulted in his writing a message on the white board saying 'do no steal cassettes from other teachers' desks'. Someone then annotated that note with 'hear hear'. As if that wasn't enough to make you think you were in a school playground, another teacher couldn't find the cassette player designated to the classroom where he would be teaching next lesson. Each cassette player has a number on it and the idea is that you take the cassette player which has the same number on as the room you're teaching in. So if you're in room 16 you need to look through about 30 identical cassette players until you find the cassette player with room 16 written on it. Why can't you just take another cassette player if you can't find the one with your room number on it?! Apparently that would lead to another teacher frantically looking round for their cassette player which you would have because somebody had yours... anyway, this trivial thing led to another childlike note being written on the white board - take the cassette player for your room not somebody else's'. I really couldn't take anymore. Not only did I have to somehow plan 3 hours of lessons for the next day using a course text book that was the wrong level for the class, I also had to work alongside this group of, well, immature, couldn't-care-less-unless-it-was-about-cassettes-and-tape-players, so called teachers. No thank you. I went back to the flat/appartment feeling properly depressed. I had an evening of lesson planning ahead. I had days of teaching with inappropriate resources ahead. I had weeks stretching out ahead of me of reruns of today. No thank you. I went back to the college. I went into reception. I was holding my contract and I asked whether, as the Principal hadn't yet signed it it wasn't yet a proper binding contract. When I was told it wasn't yet concrete and was assured that the Principal would sign it (as if I'd been asking out of fear that I was working without a proper contract!) I said I didn't want them to sign it and I'd rather we ripped it up. She looked at me gone out as if I'd just grown a second head or something. The Principal, having over heard the whole thing, asked me whether I could wait '2 ticks'. I was taken to the exact same room I'd been in last Monday when I'd come from Brighton to pick the contract up. He came to ask me why I wanted to leave. Was it the classes, the staff, something someone had said or done? I refrained from telling him that I had never seen such unorganised chaos anywhere ever before (even my Lycée in France was better organised than this and that's saying something!). I just said I wanted to go home and I was allowed to leave. I walked back to the flat/appartment feeling freer and happier that I'd done for a while - I only arrived on Saturday but it seems like an eternity ago. But now I could go home. I am going to home tomorrow. I do not regret my decision to leave after only two days. I do not feel like I have failed in any way. Infact I think it would have been easier to stay. It is the first time I have ever walked away from anything. I even stuck out an A Level in Chemistry rather than giving it up at As! But I wasn't about to sacrafice 8 weeks of my summer living on my own in a city where I don't know anyone doing a job that theoretically I love, just not at that language school, for any amount of money. I still enjoy EFL teaching and will definitely do it again, but I wasn't about to let my passion for the English Language be wiped out of me in a playground of unprofessional childish so called teachers all battling for survival in an unorganised, resouce-lacking college.
Like I said yesterday: if that's the world of work, you can keep it.
The text books appeared along with the class register at about 9h05. I was a text book short. I went down to reception and was given another one. I was also told the teacher's book would be ordered for me and oh, by the way - you have 5 students, not 4. It was now 9h10 - 5 minutes before lessons begin and I had to photocopy one extra of every sheet for the student I had only just been told would be in my class and for who I had no register sheet. As you can tell, the day was getting off to a fantastically organised start! When the bell sounded I went to meet my class - there were 5 of them, students that is, - 2 French speakers, a Hungarian, a Polish IT student and a Spanish PE teacher. They were supposed to be pre intermediate. They never were. They were more intermediate than anything. That meant the course text book, which I have to use, was too easy for them. That and it being one of the worst course text books I've ever encountered. Note to self: avoid Clockwise EFL textbooks. Anyway, the morning went very very slowly with the students looking about as bored as me. At the end of the lesson one of the students asked me whether she could move up a level as she'd found it all too easy this morning. You and the rest of the class my dear I felt like saying but instead I told her I'd see what I could do. When lunch finally rolled around (again it had been a case of, at several points in the morning, me being convinced time had stopped but no, on closer inspection of my watch the seconds were turning to minutes just significantly more slowly than they do when you're rushing to catch a train) I popped into reception to pick up my contract. I was told the Principal hadn't signed it, I said I didn't mind, there was just something I wanted to look at. I then went to the staffroom and had to find the morning teacher of my afternoon class to see what he had taught which enabled me to plan for my afternoon class. After eating lunch and liaising with the teacher it didn't leave much time to plan and ended in me pulling a book of the shelf and deciding that that'll do. Trouble was I then needed a cassette player and a cassette and I needed to get my cassette in the right place. I don't know if it's just me but I presumed, maybe quite stupidly, that the >> on a cassette player would mean fast forward and the <<>> is rewind and the << is fast forward! I don't know if you remember but I had no room allocated for this class, I also didn't know how many students there were going to be and I didn't have a register either. Well, I was told there were 6 students and we came to the conclusion I'd be in room 6. So at 14h off I went down to room 6 which is at the back of the cafeteria. I arrived and realised I needed a code to open the door. Off I went to reception for the code. When I went back to room 6 another teacher was there. She was teaching L4.2 in room 6. Hmm, ok, so where was I and where was my class - L5.2? Off I went back to reception. They sent me to room 15 where I found a group, a rather large group may I add, of students all standing up talking about where they should be. By this time it was 14h15. I asked them what level they were. Some were L5.2 - which I kept. The others were L4.2 which I sent to room 6 where I'd just come from. I now had 4 students. We did some vocab activities and didn't even get onto the listening which I'd just spent goodness only knows how long finding with the, what was in my opinion, backwards cassette player!
After this lesson I went back up to the staffroom. I sat for a while watching everyone flapping around. One of the teacher was getting angry and having a paddy as someone had stolen a cassette from his desk and it was the only copy of that cassette and now he couldn't do the lesson he'd planned and and and it all resulted in his writing a message on the white board saying 'do no steal cassettes from other teachers' desks'. Someone then annotated that note with 'hear hear'. As if that wasn't enough to make you think you were in a school playground, another teacher couldn't find the cassette player designated to the classroom where he would be teaching next lesson. Each cassette player has a number on it and the idea is that you take the cassette player which has the same number on as the room you're teaching in. So if you're in room 16 you need to look through about 30 identical cassette players until you find the cassette player with room 16 written on it. Why can't you just take another cassette player if you can't find the one with your room number on it?! Apparently that would lead to another teacher frantically looking round for their cassette player which you would have because somebody had yours... anyway, this trivial thing led to another childlike note being written on the white board - take the cassette player for your room not somebody else's'. I really couldn't take anymore. Not only did I have to somehow plan 3 hours of lessons for the next day using a course text book that was the wrong level for the class, I also had to work alongside this group of, well, immature, couldn't-care-less-unless-it-was-about-cassettes-and-tape-players, so called teachers. No thank you. I went back to the flat/appartment feeling properly depressed. I had an evening of lesson planning ahead. I had days of teaching with inappropriate resources ahead. I had weeks stretching out ahead of me of reruns of today. No thank you. I went back to the college. I went into reception. I was holding my contract and I asked whether, as the Principal hadn't yet signed it it wasn't yet a proper binding contract. When I was told it wasn't yet concrete and was assured that the Principal would sign it (as if I'd been asking out of fear that I was working without a proper contract!) I said I didn't want them to sign it and I'd rather we ripped it up. She looked at me gone out as if I'd just grown a second head or something. The Principal, having over heard the whole thing, asked me whether I could wait '2 ticks'. I was taken to the exact same room I'd been in last Monday when I'd come from Brighton to pick the contract up. He came to ask me why I wanted to leave. Was it the classes, the staff, something someone had said or done? I refrained from telling him that I had never seen such unorganised chaos anywhere ever before (even my Lycée in France was better organised than this and that's saying something!). I just said I wanted to go home and I was allowed to leave. I walked back to the flat/appartment feeling freer and happier that I'd done for a while - I only arrived on Saturday but it seems like an eternity ago. But now I could go home. I am going to home tomorrow. I do not regret my decision to leave after only two days. I do not feel like I have failed in any way. Infact I think it would have been easier to stay. It is the first time I have ever walked away from anything. I even stuck out an A Level in Chemistry rather than giving it up at As! But I wasn't about to sacrafice 8 weeks of my summer living on my own in a city where I don't know anyone doing a job that theoretically I love, just not at that language school, for any amount of money. I still enjoy EFL teaching and will definitely do it again, but I wasn't about to let my passion for the English Language be wiped out of me in a playground of unprofessional childish so called teachers all battling for survival in an unorganised, resouce-lacking college.
Like I said yesterday: if that's the world of work, you can keep it.
lundi 28 juillet 2008
Welcome to the World of Work
The alarm clock sounded at 7h this morning. I was instantly wide awake; getting up wasn’t a problem. I got dressed – outfit number 1 – beige skirt and purple checked shirt, I had breakfast and watched the BBC1 breakfast news – Weston-super-Mare’s pier was in the process of burning down and severe weather warnings were being given out for the south of England. At 8h15 I left my apartment/flat – call it what you will, and walked to work. When I walked into reception the receptionist looked at me. I told her I was due to start working there today. She took my name and went to tell the principal. I was then taken up to the staffroom and introduced to another teacher who was to induct me. This was news to him. The staffroom was fairly hectic – the majority of people were crowded around the notice board which, I later learnt, displayed the timetable for the week. It appears that, due to the recent number of changes, you don’t get your timetable until Monday morning – about 30 minutes before you start teaching! The teacher inducting me was pleased, and somewhat surprised, to be inducting me as this meant he had no classes today. After the crowd had cleared from around the notice board I was able to see I had been allocated an S5.0 class which is a short course level 5 class of which there is only one. I later learnt that a level 5 is pre intermediate and I wasn’t due to start teaching until Tuesday. I spent the morning being an examiner for the placement tests which, believe me, sounds more glamorous than it is (not that it sounds particularly glamorous anyway). I basically spent my morning sat in a silent room watching students take an exam. As the seconds turned to minutes I realised that time hadn’t come to a stand still and by 11h30 we’d finished. We then had the, by comparison, deeply interesting and challenging job of very quickly reading the writing tests and sorting them into levels. By this time it was lunch time. Back to the staff room to be surrounded by flustered teachers not knowing what they were doing or where they were going – well that described half of them anyway – the other half were somewhat more relaxed and discussing the weather and Weston-Super-Mare’s pier amongst other things. As lunch time drew to a close people began crowding around the notice board again and consulting the white board which displayed any changes to classes or rooms – and believe me there were lots of changes. When the bell rang and the staffroom emptied I made my way down to reception to get a photocopying code as I’d discovered the photocopier wouldn’t work without one. I had a whole hour and a half of the staffroom to myself to prepare what I was going to do with my class of S5.0 tomorrow morning for the 3 hours I’ll have them. I, at this point, had no class list. But, consulting the notice board, found that the timetable and class lists had already been replaced by more up to day ones! My word this place likes to keep you on your toes – the ‘old’ one, if it can be called that, had only been there 5 hours! I could now see that the names of the students who make up class S5.0 had been listed. A quick look led me to believe that I had 8 students in my class. A closer look led me to believe each student had a twin of the same name… putting my brain into gear I realised that no, the list had just been published twice, there were in fact only 4 students in my class. Somewhat smaller than I’d have liked but never mind. They are at least my class and I can do what I like with them. They are a short course which leads me to believe they are at the college for 4 weeks but, looking at the list it says they are only staying until August 8th – wouldn’t surprise me if it were a typing error… I also noticed that the room for my class had changed from 13 to 16. But that’s ok, I mean, at least I have a room, which is more than can be said for my afternoon class – a L5.2 class (a long course level 5 (so pre intermediate) class of which there are two) – no classroom has yet been allocated but that’s the least of my worries. The afternoon teacher of a class is supposed to liaise with the morning teacher so that they don’t repeat the same work as the morning teacher has done. That’s all very well and good in theory but of course it totally depends on the morning teacher knowing in advance what they are doing with the class. And of course they don’t. So, any liaising has to be done after the class has been taken but before I take the class – lunchtime then. And I also have to communicate with last week’s teacher of this class (they are a long course class so have been around a while) to make sure I don’t repeat what he may have done with them last week. And, just to add to the complicatedness of the afternoon, there is no set programme or set of resources for this particular class. On the upside there is a designated course book; on the down side this has been missing for sometime. I won’t hold my breath on it turning up. Not after seeing the unorganised chaos of the shelves of books which encircle the edges of the staffroom anyway!
What’s quite sad is that the teacher’s don’t seem to care. Why are they teachers? They clearly don’t enjoy the job, they don’t care about the students, they are there for the money. It’s a job, it’s meaningless to them. I was told that usually you have your timetable the Friday of the week before but well, I was told, you don’t spend all weekend planning, we’re not paid enough for that. And then there’s the teacher who told me I was lucky as my course has a designated text book therefore I needn’t plan a thing. But have you seen the textbook? It bored me just looking at it, goodness only knows what it’ll do to the students to work from it. Oh and my textbook comes minus the teacher book which can’t be located in the staffroom of unorganised chaos. I mean, that’s presuming someone hasn’t walked off with it forgetting to bring it back. So I have a useless textbook and am teacher book-less. But it’s ok because at least I wasn’t one teacher who was told as the bell rang that she was covering a lesson only to get 10 minutes into the lesson and have the usual teacher turn up. When she got back to the staffroom she was told to do one thing but as it turned out she was supposed to be doing another.
It was all quite incredible. I have never seen anything quite like it. All I can say is that if this is how the world of work operates then you can keep it and I’ll stay a student forever – MA and PhD here I come!
What’s quite sad is that the teacher’s don’t seem to care. Why are they teachers? They clearly don’t enjoy the job, they don’t care about the students, they are there for the money. It’s a job, it’s meaningless to them. I was told that usually you have your timetable the Friday of the week before but well, I was told, you don’t spend all weekend planning, we’re not paid enough for that. And then there’s the teacher who told me I was lucky as my course has a designated text book therefore I needn’t plan a thing. But have you seen the textbook? It bored me just looking at it, goodness only knows what it’ll do to the students to work from it. Oh and my textbook comes minus the teacher book which can’t be located in the staffroom of unorganised chaos. I mean, that’s presuming someone hasn’t walked off with it forgetting to bring it back. So I have a useless textbook and am teacher book-less. But it’s ok because at least I wasn’t one teacher who was told as the bell rang that she was covering a lesson only to get 10 minutes into the lesson and have the usual teacher turn up. When she got back to the staffroom she was told to do one thing but as it turned out she was supposed to be doing another.
It was all quite incredible. I have never seen anything quite like it. All I can say is that if this is how the world of work operates then you can keep it and I’ll stay a student forever – MA and PhD here I come!
dimanche 27 juillet 2008
Hello Bournemouth
Above - it's definitely worse than Marseille and possibly worse than Brighton. Could this be the UK's worst case of 'find your own grain of sand?'
Above - Bournemouth Pier and somewhere, if you look hard enough, you'll see the beach!
This morning I went for a walk around Bournemouth. I figuered that as I'm going to be working full time (never before in my life have I worked 8h30 to 17h30 5 days a week! It may well kill me! so if blog entries stop you'll know I've falledn victim to the world of work!) I wouldn't have a lot of time for sightseeing or exploring the area. I walked from my appartment (funny how I always used to refer to my appartment in Marseille as an appartment and never thought anything of it but now, being here in Bournemouth, it feels strange to refer to the accommodation as an appartment, I feel that 'flat' would be more appropriate. I can't explain why, maybe because it's lacks the glamour of my central Marseille mediterranean appartment on the south coast of France? Somehow a flat on Britian's south coast just doesn't seem to, well, have the same glamour to warrant being an appartment...) Anyway, I left where I'm now living and walked to where I will be working. I wanted to make sure that I would be able to find it in the morning, I also wanted to know exactly how long it would take me so that I wouldn't be late or ridiculously early on my first day. It takes about 20 minutes so if I allow 25 I should be fine. I carried on to The Square (I had a map of Bournemouth that was in the appartment? flat?) and walked to the sea front. I didn't actually go on the beach and I think if you look at the photos you might understand why - there wasn't exactly a lot of space!
When I first thought of Bournemouth when I saw the job advert I thought of a little seaside town full of elderly people. I was later told that it was a similar size to Brighton. I then discovered that it has a lot of language schools and therefore a lot of foreign students. The reality seems to be that Bournemouth is a little bigger than I imagined. It is a city rather than a town. It is in some ways similar to Brighton - there is a pier for instance. There are lots of 'touristy' things around the seafront. But every young person I walked past was foreign. I heard so many different languages. And, in comparison with Brighton, there are more eldery people. However Bournemouth does immediately have one up on Brighton as it's beaches are sandy as opposed to a collection of stones! It's pier however, is a little disappointing by comparison. From walking aorund this morning in the glorious sunshine my first impressions of Bournemouth are that it is cleaner and well, as silly as this may sound, a seaside town in the more traditional sense of a seaside town. But these opinions are based on first impressions, it will take me a little more exploring to draw concrete conculsions on this town? city? that is not at all what I originally expected when I thought of Bournemouth. Quite when I'm going to find time to fit this exploring in remains to be seen - weekends perhaps? But if there's one thing I've learnt - things are never as their stereotypes would have you believe, and images of things you have in your head of how something should be are often completely inaccurate!
vendredi 25 juillet 2008
Stepping into the unknown
After having been back in the country for precisely a week I am off to my third location. The first was Brighton, the second Ludlow and the third will be Bournemouth. I remember, somewhere around March or April time, I decided it would be a good idea to apply for a job to earn some money in the summer. I applied for several jobs, some got back to me and arranged an interview but, as I wasn't available until the end of July, they weren't interested. They still interviewed me mind even though I'd written in my cover letter that I wasn't available until the end of July! Goes to show how carefully they read the application. I had an offer of part time work in Bristol and then an offer of full time work in Bournemouth. It was the latter that I accepted. And so off I go to Bournemouth for the summer. Seaside resort and, according to a recent survey, the happiest place in Britain. Well, it'll make a change from the slowest place in Britain as I do believe Ludlow was voted not that long ago.
Saturday morning, 10h20, Ludlow train station. On platform 2 could be seen a girl with a rather large suitcase, a bright rucksack and a handbag waiting to board the train to Milford Haven. She got off after an hour and a quarter at Newport to change trains taking the Portsmouth Harbour train, which was like an oven, but getting off at Southampton Central. She then took the Weymouth train to Bournemouth arriving on time at 15h to be met by the Principal of the Language College where she's going to be working.
the principal took me to my accommodation, which is about a 20 minute walk from the Language College. After I'd unpacked I went shopping as although the accommodation was fully furnished it lacked food. I was spoilt for choice when it came to supermarkets. I originally wanted to go to the Asda I'd seen by the station but it would have involved a taxi, so I opted for Lidl and Waitrose which are both about a 3 minute walk from the accommodation.
The accommodation is situated in Winton and is like an appartment - it's in a house which has been converted into flats. There are 3 double bedrooms, a bathroom with both a bath and a shower, a fully equipped kitchen (yes, there's an oven, a microwave, a fridge, a freezer and a washing machine!) and a lounge with a tv and a reclining green leather armchair. There's also a 3 seater sofa and a 2 seater sofa - both green leather to match the armchair. There's a dining room and hallway. And all of this to myself as there's no one else in the appartment at the minute. It all feels rather big and empty for just one person.
Saturday morning, 10h20, Ludlow train station. On platform 2 could be seen a girl with a rather large suitcase, a bright rucksack and a handbag waiting to board the train to Milford Haven. She got off after an hour and a quarter at Newport to change trains taking the Portsmouth Harbour train, which was like an oven, but getting off at Southampton Central. She then took the Weymouth train to Bournemouth arriving on time at 15h to be met by the Principal of the Language College where she's going to be working.
the principal took me to my accommodation, which is about a 20 minute walk from the Language College. After I'd unpacked I went shopping as although the accommodation was fully furnished it lacked food. I was spoilt for choice when it came to supermarkets. I originally wanted to go to the Asda I'd seen by the station but it would have involved a taxi, so I opted for Lidl and Waitrose which are both about a 3 minute walk from the accommodation.
The accommodation is situated in Winton and is like an appartment - it's in a house which has been converted into flats. There are 3 double bedrooms, a bathroom with both a bath and a shower, a fully equipped kitchen (yes, there's an oven, a microwave, a fridge, a freezer and a washing machine!) and a lounge with a tv and a reclining green leather armchair. There's also a 3 seater sofa and a 2 seater sofa - both green leather to match the armchair. There's a dining room and hallway. And all of this to myself as there's no one else in the appartment at the minute. It all feels rather big and empty for just one person.
jeudi 24 juillet 2008
National Rail - my second home
And to keep you updated I can tell you that I am now safely back in the UK. Safely back in my little corner of England - Ludlow. I flew back last Saturday from Dresden to Gatwick. Dresden airport is the smallest airport I've ever been too. It's tiny! I know I haven't been to many aiports but I'm pretty sure I could travel the world and not find too many airports smaller than Dresden's!! The only people in the whole airport were the people wanting to catch my flight as that was the only flight leaving until later that evening. Infact, there were so few flights that to fill the computer screen up with outgoing flights they had the next couple of days' flights displayed! When I landed at Gatwick I took the train down to Brighton and then changed to go to Hove where I arrived at Amanda's flat towards 20h. I stumbled in, luggage and all, and she said the magic word - tea. Oh yes please. It had been three weeks since a cup of proper English tea had passed my lips. I'd tried every kind of fruit tea imaginable, I'd even resorted to buying Earl Grey, but nothing, nothing could compete with plain, ordinary, black tea. Whilst at the hostel in Dresden I was asked by an American, who seemed to think the English were a nation of tea drinkers, 'so, what kind of tea do you drink?' He didn't bother asking if I liked tea but just went straight for 'what kind'. I replied with plain, black, ordinary tea. The kind that seems just not to exist outside the UK which, considering we don't grow it there, seems kind of strange! Anyway, yes, I arrived at Amanda's and had a cup of tea. I showered, I slept.
On the Sunday we went into Brighton. I was horrified that the price of a bus ticket has gone up yet again. When I started at uni in 2005 an all day city saver (where you can hop on and off as many buses as you like all day) cost £2.80. When I left last year it was up at £3.00 and now, now it has risen to the extautionate, day light robbery, bank breaking total of £3.50 would you believe?! Thankfully the annual bus pass remains at £300 but £3.50 for a bus ticket! We did a spot of shopping (one bus) then took the 77 to Devil's Dyke in West Sussex (a second bus) - it's a part of the Sussex Downs. I'd never been before. We sat on the upper deck of an open top bus being blown away for a good 20 minutes before arriving, under skies that had been blue but were now grey, and feeling rather cold. A quick glance at the view told me it was somewhat similar to Shropshire - rolling green fields and countryside, we then headed inside to the one and only pub/restaurant for lunch. Delicious. I had an italian salad with orange juice and then for desert the chocolate brownie and a latte. Afterwards we braved the elements - it didn't rain but it was a little chilly because of the wind. We flew a kite. I can now say that I have flown a kite on devil's dyke. Strangely enough I think the french word for 'kite' translates literally as 'flying stag'... don't quote me on that one though.
After the kite flying we went back into town (a third bus - getting our money's worth!) and I needed an internet café to find out how oh how I was going to get to Bournemouth from Hove going via Hampden Park (in completely the opposite direction (I needed to pick up my portfolio from the CELTA course I did last year at Sussex Downs College)) the next day. I finally found an internet café that was open at 19h on Sunday and plonked myself down only to be tormented by the National Rail webpage. 45 minutes later not only did I have a route mapped out, I also had a not too beautiful (and later to prove not too helpful) hand drawn map of how to get from Bournemouth train station to where I needed to go - The Richard Language College.
The next morning (Monday) I set of at 8h10. I walked to Hove train station and caught a train to Brighton where I changed. I caught a second train to Lewes where I changed again to a train going to Ore. I, however, got off at Hampden Park and walked the 20 minutes to Sussex Downs College. The memories of the 4 stressful, busy weeks I spent there last summer doing my CELTA course came back. I walked into the college and my feet automatically guided me to my Tutor's office. We sat and had a chat which was nice and I picked up my portfolio. I left at about 10h20 to go back to Hampden Park Station where I asked which ticket would be best to buy for getting to Bournemouth but coming back not to Hampden Park but to Hove. At the time it made perfect sense when she sold me a Hampden Park - Bournemouth via Clapham Junction return and then a single from Lewes to Hove. Later on however I would prove to be completely mystified about how that could ever be logical. I caught the 11h train to London Victoria getting off at Clapham Junction (which is, according the the sign, Britain's busiest train station and is also similar in it's dreadful layout to Birmingham New Street in that all the platforms come off of one long corridor) where I was supposed to change to go to Bournemouth. A glance at the board told me trains heading to Bournemouth left from platform 9. When I arrived at platform 9 I read the sign for the train that was just pulling in: 'Take the first two carriages for... take the second two carriages for... and take the last two carriages for...' trouble was Bournemouth wasn't listed anywhere. Hmm, I decided to ask and was told to change at Woking. So on the train I got. but there were no onboard announcements, there was no scrolling thing at the end of the carriage displaying where the train would stop. Which carriage did I need to be in to stop at Woking?! I sat down and waited for the first stop which, I was able to see from looking out of the window, was Woking. I got off. I then changed and finally got a train going to Bournemouth. When I arrived I got out my hand drawn map... which didn't help me at all. I had a 50/50 chance - I either turn right or left out of the station - my map was of no help so I gambled and went left. Hindsight can be said to be a lovely thing, it can also be said to be the most useless thing in the universe. I should have of course turned right! A good hour after having left Bournemouth's station, after having asked goodness knows only how many people later, I finally arrived at the Richard Language College. I went in and the girl on reception asked whether she could help me. I said I was due to start working there next Monday. She went and told the Principal that I was there. (We'd arranged by e-mail I'd pop in on the Monday in the late afternoon). I heard him say 'could you look after her please, I'm not ready'. She asked me whether I'd like a drink, she showed me the toilets, gave me a guided tour and then sat me down with a prospectus - she was good at her job! Finally the Principal could squeeze me in! I walked away with somewhere to live and an unsigned contract to read over. It took me less than 10 minutes to get back to the station and it was at this point I realised I should have turned right rather than left upon arrival, never mind. I looked at the departing trains and saw the one to Clapham Junction wasn't for another 45 minutes. I decided it'd be quicker to get the train to Southampton Central and then change to a train going directly to Hove. I changed at Southampton Central but as I was sitting on the train I realised my ticket was specifically for the Clapham Junction route. I then tried to work out how exactly my tickets for the return journey worked. I had a Bournemouth to Hampden Park single via Clapham Junction and then a Lewes to Hove single. How was I supposed to get from Hampden Park to Lewes?! I couldn't make it make sense, and to think it had all been so clear when she'd sold me the ticket ealier in the day! I sat on the train dreading the ticket inspector coming. When he did come I wondered how I was going to explain being nowhere near Clapham Junction and not heading in direction of either Hampden Park or Lewes. Luckily he didn't bat an eyelid and just moved on to the next passenger! I arrived back at Amanda's just after 12 hours after I'd left. Again, she provided tea, except this time it'd been only 12 tealess hours rather than 3 tealess weeks!
The following day I was due to catch the 13h51 train to go back up to Ludlow. I went with Amanda to a french café for breakfast and then popped into Brighton to do some shopping. I spent some time in Oxfam before carting my one just about moveable suitcase, my backpack and two large hand bags to the train station. I stopped with Amanda for lunch and ended up catching the 15h51 train to London Victoria where I got the circle line of the underground to Paddington. That was hard. Londoners are unforgiving people. I was laden down with baggage, I could barely shift my suitcase let alone carry the thing up and down stairs but yet still people pushed past, not offering to help. When I got onto a crowded train at Paddington I felt lucky to find a seat and well, collapsed into it. I changed at Newport and then got off at Ludlow. Again, exhausted.
So, in the past week or so I've been to 3 countries, taken a plane, caught 12 trains and slept in 4 beds. I haven't stood still. And it's not over yet as next Monday I'm starting a new job. In Bournemouth!
On the Sunday we went into Brighton. I was horrified that the price of a bus ticket has gone up yet again. When I started at uni in 2005 an all day city saver (where you can hop on and off as many buses as you like all day) cost £2.80. When I left last year it was up at £3.00 and now, now it has risen to the extautionate, day light robbery, bank breaking total of £3.50 would you believe?! Thankfully the annual bus pass remains at £300 but £3.50 for a bus ticket! We did a spot of shopping (one bus) then took the 77 to Devil's Dyke in West Sussex (a second bus) - it's a part of the Sussex Downs. I'd never been before. We sat on the upper deck of an open top bus being blown away for a good 20 minutes before arriving, under skies that had been blue but were now grey, and feeling rather cold. A quick glance at the view told me it was somewhat similar to Shropshire - rolling green fields and countryside, we then headed inside to the one and only pub/restaurant for lunch. Delicious. I had an italian salad with orange juice and then for desert the chocolate brownie and a latte. Afterwards we braved the elements - it didn't rain but it was a little chilly because of the wind. We flew a kite. I can now say that I have flown a kite on devil's dyke. Strangely enough I think the french word for 'kite' translates literally as 'flying stag'... don't quote me on that one though.
After the kite flying we went back into town (a third bus - getting our money's worth!) and I needed an internet café to find out how oh how I was going to get to Bournemouth from Hove going via Hampden Park (in completely the opposite direction (I needed to pick up my portfolio from the CELTA course I did last year at Sussex Downs College)) the next day. I finally found an internet café that was open at 19h on Sunday and plonked myself down only to be tormented by the National Rail webpage. 45 minutes later not only did I have a route mapped out, I also had a not too beautiful (and later to prove not too helpful) hand drawn map of how to get from Bournemouth train station to where I needed to go - The Richard Language College.
The next morning (Monday) I set of at 8h10. I walked to Hove train station and caught a train to Brighton where I changed. I caught a second train to Lewes where I changed again to a train going to Ore. I, however, got off at Hampden Park and walked the 20 minutes to Sussex Downs College. The memories of the 4 stressful, busy weeks I spent there last summer doing my CELTA course came back. I walked into the college and my feet automatically guided me to my Tutor's office. We sat and had a chat which was nice and I picked up my portfolio. I left at about 10h20 to go back to Hampden Park Station where I asked which ticket would be best to buy for getting to Bournemouth but coming back not to Hampden Park but to Hove. At the time it made perfect sense when she sold me a Hampden Park - Bournemouth via Clapham Junction return and then a single from Lewes to Hove. Later on however I would prove to be completely mystified about how that could ever be logical. I caught the 11h train to London Victoria getting off at Clapham Junction (which is, according the the sign, Britain's busiest train station and is also similar in it's dreadful layout to Birmingham New Street in that all the platforms come off of one long corridor) where I was supposed to change to go to Bournemouth. A glance at the board told me trains heading to Bournemouth left from platform 9. When I arrived at platform 9 I read the sign for the train that was just pulling in: 'Take the first two carriages for... take the second two carriages for... and take the last two carriages for...' trouble was Bournemouth wasn't listed anywhere. Hmm, I decided to ask and was told to change at Woking. So on the train I got. but there were no onboard announcements, there was no scrolling thing at the end of the carriage displaying where the train would stop. Which carriage did I need to be in to stop at Woking?! I sat down and waited for the first stop which, I was able to see from looking out of the window, was Woking. I got off. I then changed and finally got a train going to Bournemouth. When I arrived I got out my hand drawn map... which didn't help me at all. I had a 50/50 chance - I either turn right or left out of the station - my map was of no help so I gambled and went left. Hindsight can be said to be a lovely thing, it can also be said to be the most useless thing in the universe. I should have of course turned right! A good hour after having left Bournemouth's station, after having asked goodness knows only how many people later, I finally arrived at the Richard Language College. I went in and the girl on reception asked whether she could help me. I said I was due to start working there next Monday. She went and told the Principal that I was there. (We'd arranged by e-mail I'd pop in on the Monday in the late afternoon). I heard him say 'could you look after her please, I'm not ready'. She asked me whether I'd like a drink, she showed me the toilets, gave me a guided tour and then sat me down with a prospectus - she was good at her job! Finally the Principal could squeeze me in! I walked away with somewhere to live and an unsigned contract to read over. It took me less than 10 minutes to get back to the station and it was at this point I realised I should have turned right rather than left upon arrival, never mind. I looked at the departing trains and saw the one to Clapham Junction wasn't for another 45 minutes. I decided it'd be quicker to get the train to Southampton Central and then change to a train going directly to Hove. I changed at Southampton Central but as I was sitting on the train I realised my ticket was specifically for the Clapham Junction route. I then tried to work out how exactly my tickets for the return journey worked. I had a Bournemouth to Hampden Park single via Clapham Junction and then a Lewes to Hove single. How was I supposed to get from Hampden Park to Lewes?! I couldn't make it make sense, and to think it had all been so clear when she'd sold me the ticket ealier in the day! I sat on the train dreading the ticket inspector coming. When he did come I wondered how I was going to explain being nowhere near Clapham Junction and not heading in direction of either Hampden Park or Lewes. Luckily he didn't bat an eyelid and just moved on to the next passenger! I arrived back at Amanda's just after 12 hours after I'd left. Again, she provided tea, except this time it'd been only 12 tealess hours rather than 3 tealess weeks!
The following day I was due to catch the 13h51 train to go back up to Ludlow. I went with Amanda to a french café for breakfast and then popped into Brighton to do some shopping. I spent some time in Oxfam before carting my one just about moveable suitcase, my backpack and two large hand bags to the train station. I stopped with Amanda for lunch and ended up catching the 15h51 train to London Victoria where I got the circle line of the underground to Paddington. That was hard. Londoners are unforgiving people. I was laden down with baggage, I could barely shift my suitcase let alone carry the thing up and down stairs but yet still people pushed past, not offering to help. When I got onto a crowded train at Paddington I felt lucky to find a seat and well, collapsed into it. I changed at Newport and then got off at Ludlow. Again, exhausted.
So, in the past week or so I've been to 3 countries, taken a plane, caught 12 trains and slept in 4 beds. I haven't stood still. And it's not over yet as next Monday I'm starting a new job. In Bournemouth!
Herrnhut and Zinzendorf
So my part of Germany, (and indeed it is ‘my’ part of Germany!) is situated in the east of the country in a region called Saxony. To be more specific I find myself in an area called Upper Lusatia between the Elbe and Neisse rivers, so called because of the nearby Lusatian Hills. This part of Germany is not known for its popularity with tourists as, indeed, very few tourists, if any, grace the region with their presence. The region is more popular with birdwatchers and flower-lovers or should I say ornithologists and botanists? The region is after all home to such an abundance of otters that it is thought to have Germany’s biggest otter population. And, judging by the number of people who seem to live around here, I’m pretty willing to bet the otters outnumber the people…
Herrnhut – the cradle of the Moravian Church
This is the town where I am living and working, although I personally see it being more of a village than a town. Whether it be a town or village it was established in 1722 by the unheard of Count Nikolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf, unheard of that is until I arrived in Herrnhut. Now I can’t get through a day without him popping up somewhere even though he died in 1760! He basically used to own the whole region and allowed Moravian and Bohemian refugees to settle on his land thus creating a Christian centre of missionaries. And this is what Herrnhut is famous for, in the Christian world at least – for its extensive missionary work. It is also famous for the Herrnhut Advent Star which, although you may not know by name, I guarantee that each and every one of you have one, or at least, know someone who has.
So, Count Zinzendorf was born in 1700 into a noble family of Lutherans in Saxony. His father died when he was just 6 weeks old and he was brought up by his Grandmother as his Mother re-married and moved away. At the age of 10 he was sent to boarding school to prepare him for his work serving at the Royal Court in Dresden where he and his friends formed ‘The Order of the Grain of Mustard Seed’. At the age of 16 he went to the University of Wittenberg – the birthplace of Protestantism and the centre of an effort to reform the Catholic Church. An effort which, instead of reform, led to division and the creation of the Lutheran church. By the time that Zinzendorf was 18, the Lutheran Church was experiencing an internal struggle between Pietists and Traditionalists. At the age of 21 Zinzendorf received his father’s inheritance and bought the estate of Berthelsdorf from his Grandmother not knowing that it would be this very estate that would not only make him famous but also an outlaw.
In 1722 Zinzendorf learnt of a group of Christians in Moravia – a region 200 miles south east of Saxony, who were being persecuted because of their beliefs and so were looking for a place to stay. Zinzendorf agreed to allow them to build on his land and to freely practice their religion there. He called the beginnings of the town the Moravians began to build ‘Herrnhut’ from the German for ‘Lord’s Watch’. But as more and more Christians from many different denominations came to settle in Herrnhut the town changed from a harmonious community to a shambles where it was everyman for himself. Zindendorf worked hard to change the situation around and eventually succeeded. He quit his job at the Royal Court in Dresden and moved his family to Herrnhut.
Herrnhut later became the birth place of the 24 hour prayer. Originally people drew straws as to who would pray which hour of the day. This way, there would always be someone praying for Herrnhut, and the world, no matter what time of the day or night it was. In 1730 Ludwig travelled to Denmark for the coronation of King Christian VI where he met the servant of his friend Count Laurwig. The servant’s simple story set in motion a series of events which would see people from the Herrnhut community spread all over the world. The servant’s story of how slaves in the Caribbean had never heard of Jesus led to Herrnhut sending out missionaries to live and work alongside the slaves in order to preach to them. But whilst all this was going on Zinzendorf was busy trying to fulfil his ambition to become a Lutheran Pastor, an ambition he eventually fulfilled in December 1734. However resentment among the nobility of Saxony towards Zinzendorf’s unorthodox religious ways had been growing and many just did not agree with a Count being ordained a Pastor and complaints were made to the Royal Court in Dresden who issued an edict banning Zinzendorf from his own kingdom. Zinzendorf was forced to look for somewhere else to live and eventually leased Ronneburg Castle which was already home to a group of Jews, tramps and vagabonds. Zinzendorf made it his mission to convert these people to Christianity seeing his banishing from his own kingdom as God’s way of allowing him to expand the work he’d started in Herrnhut. This new Christian community Zinzendorf named Herrnhaag which, along with Herrnhut, began to be referred to as the Moravian Church.
In November 1738 Zinzendorf himself became a missionary in the face of much criticism from those who accused him of sending others across the world as missionaries when he knew there was little chance they would come back alive. When he arrived in the Caribbean he found the missionaries already there were in prison but that the community of slaves had become Christian. He immediately set about trying to free the imprisoned missionaries which he did with success. After putting into place many of the same procedures that were in place at Herrnhut – such as the 24 hour praying, Zinzendorf made his way back to Germany. A few years later Zinzendorf went travelling again setting up Christian communities across the world.
In 1743 he felt it was time to go back to Germany as he had heard disturbing reports of unrest amongst the Christian communities there. As the unrest was sorted out the King of Saxony made a visit to Herrnhut, he was so impressed with what he found there that he began to question why Zinzendorf had ever been banished from the area. He quickly reversed this decision allowing Zinzendorf to return to Herrnhut.
In June 1756 Zinzendorf’s wife died and a year later it was suggested that he remarry as, since his first wife’s death, he had become unsociable spending much of his time alone. It was suggested that he marry a friend with whom he had worked closely over the years. The problem was Zinzendorf was a Count and his possible second wife nothing more than a peasant. In 1757 Zinzendorf passed on all his titles and privileges to his nephew and married Anna Nitchmann, keeping it a secret to avoid bringing shame on the Zinzendorf family. A year later they announced their marriage explaining why they had chosen to keep it secret but shortly after Anna fell ill, closely followed by Zinzendorf himself.
Seventeen days before his sixtieth birthday on May 9th 1760 Count Ludwig Zinzendorf died. His second wife soon followed him on May 22nd 1760. But the work that Zinzendorf had started continued. At the time of his death 226 missionaries had been sent out and over 3000 people had been converted. The Moravian church continued to send out missionaries, indeed their work is still going on today.
Herrnhut – the cradle of the Moravian Church
This is the town where I am living and working, although I personally see it being more of a village than a town. Whether it be a town or village it was established in 1722 by the unheard of Count Nikolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf, unheard of that is until I arrived in Herrnhut. Now I can’t get through a day without him popping up somewhere even though he died in 1760! He basically used to own the whole region and allowed Moravian and Bohemian refugees to settle on his land thus creating a Christian centre of missionaries. And this is what Herrnhut is famous for, in the Christian world at least – for its extensive missionary work. It is also famous for the Herrnhut Advent Star which, although you may not know by name, I guarantee that each and every one of you have one, or at least, know someone who has.
So, Count Zinzendorf was born in 1700 into a noble family of Lutherans in Saxony. His father died when he was just 6 weeks old and he was brought up by his Grandmother as his Mother re-married and moved away. At the age of 10 he was sent to boarding school to prepare him for his work serving at the Royal Court in Dresden where he and his friends formed ‘The Order of the Grain of Mustard Seed’. At the age of 16 he went to the University of Wittenberg – the birthplace of Protestantism and the centre of an effort to reform the Catholic Church. An effort which, instead of reform, led to division and the creation of the Lutheran church. By the time that Zinzendorf was 18, the Lutheran Church was experiencing an internal struggle between Pietists and Traditionalists. At the age of 21 Zinzendorf received his father’s inheritance and bought the estate of Berthelsdorf from his Grandmother not knowing that it would be this very estate that would not only make him famous but also an outlaw.
In 1722 Zinzendorf learnt of a group of Christians in Moravia – a region 200 miles south east of Saxony, who were being persecuted because of their beliefs and so were looking for a place to stay. Zinzendorf agreed to allow them to build on his land and to freely practice their religion there. He called the beginnings of the town the Moravians began to build ‘Herrnhut’ from the German for ‘Lord’s Watch’. But as more and more Christians from many different denominations came to settle in Herrnhut the town changed from a harmonious community to a shambles where it was everyman for himself. Zindendorf worked hard to change the situation around and eventually succeeded. He quit his job at the Royal Court in Dresden and moved his family to Herrnhut.
Herrnhut later became the birth place of the 24 hour prayer. Originally people drew straws as to who would pray which hour of the day. This way, there would always be someone praying for Herrnhut, and the world, no matter what time of the day or night it was. In 1730 Ludwig travelled to Denmark for the coronation of King Christian VI where he met the servant of his friend Count Laurwig. The servant’s simple story set in motion a series of events which would see people from the Herrnhut community spread all over the world. The servant’s story of how slaves in the Caribbean had never heard of Jesus led to Herrnhut sending out missionaries to live and work alongside the slaves in order to preach to them. But whilst all this was going on Zinzendorf was busy trying to fulfil his ambition to become a Lutheran Pastor, an ambition he eventually fulfilled in December 1734. However resentment among the nobility of Saxony towards Zinzendorf’s unorthodox religious ways had been growing and many just did not agree with a Count being ordained a Pastor and complaints were made to the Royal Court in Dresden who issued an edict banning Zinzendorf from his own kingdom. Zinzendorf was forced to look for somewhere else to live and eventually leased Ronneburg Castle which was already home to a group of Jews, tramps and vagabonds. Zinzendorf made it his mission to convert these people to Christianity seeing his banishing from his own kingdom as God’s way of allowing him to expand the work he’d started in Herrnhut. This new Christian community Zinzendorf named Herrnhaag which, along with Herrnhut, began to be referred to as the Moravian Church.
In November 1738 Zinzendorf himself became a missionary in the face of much criticism from those who accused him of sending others across the world as missionaries when he knew there was little chance they would come back alive. When he arrived in the Caribbean he found the missionaries already there were in prison but that the community of slaves had become Christian. He immediately set about trying to free the imprisoned missionaries which he did with success. After putting into place many of the same procedures that were in place at Herrnhut – such as the 24 hour praying, Zinzendorf made his way back to Germany. A few years later Zinzendorf went travelling again setting up Christian communities across the world.
In 1743 he felt it was time to go back to Germany as he had heard disturbing reports of unrest amongst the Christian communities there. As the unrest was sorted out the King of Saxony made a visit to Herrnhut, he was so impressed with what he found there that he began to question why Zinzendorf had ever been banished from the area. He quickly reversed this decision allowing Zinzendorf to return to Herrnhut.
In June 1756 Zinzendorf’s wife died and a year later it was suggested that he remarry as, since his first wife’s death, he had become unsociable spending much of his time alone. It was suggested that he marry a friend with whom he had worked closely over the years. The problem was Zinzendorf was a Count and his possible second wife nothing more than a peasant. In 1757 Zinzendorf passed on all his titles and privileges to his nephew and married Anna Nitchmann, keeping it a secret to avoid bringing shame on the Zinzendorf family. A year later they announced their marriage explaining why they had chosen to keep it secret but shortly after Anna fell ill, closely followed by Zinzendorf himself.
Seventeen days before his sixtieth birthday on May 9th 1760 Count Ludwig Zinzendorf died. His second wife soon followed him on May 22nd 1760. But the work that Zinzendorf had started continued. At the time of his death 226 missionaries had been sent out and over 3000 people had been converted. The Moravian church continued to send out missionaries, indeed their work is still going on today.
samedi 19 juillet 2008
Contentedly Exhausted
Above - the Church in Liberec.
Above - Liberec's main square.
Above - Another church in Liberec.
More Prague
Above - The tower leading onto the St Charles Bridge by night.
Above - The view from the St Charles Bridge complete with the moon.
Above - Looking towards the Castle by night from the St Charles Bridge.
Above - Me on the St Charles Bridge.
Above - Sue on the St Charles Bridge.
vendredi 18 juillet 2008
Prague
Above - the Old Town centre with the 'Tyn' Church in the background.
Above - The astronomical clock.
Above - Inside the Cathedral by the Castle.
Above - Prague's mini Eiffel Tower.
Above - The view from the top of one of the many towers that you can climb in Prague. Here you can see the St Charles Bridge.
Above - The Old Town.
Tuesday morning, 7h45, the alarm clock sounds. I had breakfast after getting dressed – cereal, orange juice, tea, cheese on toast and yoghurt, whilst watching Sky News in English in an attempt to catch up on what’s been happening in the world recently. I left the hostel just after 9h15 and walked in the sun to the tram stop where I caught the tram to the centre. After a little careful map reading I stumbled across yet another Old Town! I went in the Kostel matky boží prěd Týnem (Notre Dame Church) which is actually a gothic cathedral built in 1365. I walked around the Old Square – Staroměstská Náměsti. I sat and had an expensive but delicious hot chocolate opposite the Astronomical Clock and the Town Hall - Staroměstská radnice which dates from the early15th century, and watched as grey clouds rolled in to replace the blue sky. I thought rain was imminent. After the Old Square I headed over the river and towards the castle where I queued to go in to the Cathedral – Chrám sv. Víta, which was beautiful, the insides were so impressive with huge stained glass windows. I walked around and saw so much of the city. I was impressed by it all. Towards 14h, after wandering around since 9h30, I stopped at a restaurant near Loreta (yet another church) and had a three course meal. I had bohemian onion and cheese soup with croutons and a glass of orange juice followed by a mushroom, cheese and tomato omelette and then for desert I had apple strudel, chocolate sauce, cream and what can only be described as crème anglaise and a coffee. The quality of the food was high, it was a good restaurant and relatively cheap. The bill came to 425kč which, just because it’s such a high number is quite horrifying. The thought of paying 425 of anything for anything is scary. Until you remember that it’s the equivalent of about €17 or £12 – not bad, eh?! After lunch I continued walking. I made my way to Petřín where the Czech equivalent of the Eiffel Tower can be found. It was built for the Jubilee Exhibition in 1891 by F Prášil. It’s 60m high and has 299 steps leading to the top. It’s strange, so many cities not only have such an originally named Old Town but so many also have an Eiffel Tower replica – Lyon and now Prague! And all built to receive radio signals! I walked up to the top but didn’t climb it; I saw the cable car but didn’t take it. I chose instead to walk back down like I’d walked up. I made my way to Karlův Most – St Charles Bridge, and crossed the River Vltava. The St Charles Bridge was built to replace the Judith Bridge which was damaged by floods in 1342. It was named after Charles IV and construction was completed in 1402. Between 1683 and 1928 30 sculptures and statues of Saints were set on the bridge, many of them have stories attached. For example there is one statue marking the spot where someone was thrown off the bridge many centuries ago. If you touch the dog on the statue and make a wish, it’s said it will come true. You can see on the statue where so many people have touched the dog – he’s become shiny. The bridge is 515m long and 9,5m wide. It was severly damaged in the 1890 floods but the largest flood in the last 500 years in 2002 did not damage it. Across the bridge I came to the Old Square where I’d been in the morning. On the bridge itself were market stalls and musicians. Prague has so much culture, there’s so much to this city. I was nothing short of impressed. I bought postcards and two fridge magnets from one of the many souvenir shops. It’s true that there are a lot of tourists in Prague but really, there are so many souvenir shops, all selling exactly the same, is it really necessary?! Glass would appear to be the speciality around here. They sell it everywhere. I caught the tram back to the hostel at about 19h. I’d been walking walking walking for the best part of 10 hours. I was, I think it’s fair to say, exhausted. I took and shower and then met two new people in our dormitory. They are from Marseille!! Small world.
Moving on: from Dresden to Prague
Above - the tram stop for the hostel - see what I mean about it having more grafitti than the whole of Marseille?!
Above - the Youth Hostel.
Above - the view from the Youth Hostel.
Above - Sue in our bedroom.
Above - the corridor in the Youth Hostel with the office on the left and our room just a little further along also on the left.
Rain, rain and more rain
Above - the bath filled with soil and planted with cacti.
Above - the view of Dresden from the bridge.
Above - the Zwinger.
The adventure continues: Phase II – Dresden.
Above - Frauenkirche - rebuilt after having been destroyed in 1945.
Above - The street long mural of all the Saxon Dukes.
Above - inside the Youth Hostel.
Above - the outside of the Youth Hostel.
Above - an interesting building in the Kaufen Passage.
Compared with what was originally planned (a 6h breakfast) I got up at the more reasonable hour of 8h. I needed to pack as today I was heading to Dresden. The original plan, as I have said, was to go to Leipzig. I was then going to make my way from Leipzig to Dresden in the evening and spend Sunday there. Instead I headed straight for Dresden giving me the Saturday afternoon and all day Sunday there. This plan also gave me a more leisurely, less rushed start to my weekend! As planned breakfast was at 9h up in Renée and Heidi’s kitchen. We ate American pancakes. I had three. (Don’t worry! They’re not the size of UK pancakes or French crêpes! They’re more the size of crumpets. They are however thicker than UK pancakes or French crêpes – about half the thickness of a crumpet.) Anyway, so I had 3 – one with natural yogurt and two with maple syrup and freshly squeezed orange juice. My first encounter with American pancakes, albeit in Germany, was nothing but a positive one. Delicious. I may even have to ask for the recipe so as I can take a little bit of American back to England with me! (Oats soaked in buttermilk, flour, two eggs…) After breakfast we drove to Bautzen and I caught a train to Dresden. I said goodbye to Jannik and Jenny at the train station. (They were going to spend the day in Bautzen with Heidi). They’re going back to England on Monday so won’t be in Herrnhut when I get back. It took me about an hour to get to Dresden on the train. I arrived at around midday. When I arrived in Dresden I went in the News shop. I was travelling ultra ultra light and wanted a notebook so that I could write what could later be typed up and published to my blog (what you’re reading now was actually written at the various stages of my journey). The newsagents however didn’t have something as simple and straight forward as a notebook so I ventured outside of the station into the rain. Only a light drizzle but nevertheless rain. I put my umbrella up and had a wander around the outside of the station in search of a map. I didn’t find one but I did find an elderly-ish couple who had one so, it was time to be brave – Spechen Sie Englisch? They did a little, enough to tell me, or should I say point, that the map came from the bus tour lady. I went to get one. Not the most useful map as it was specifically for the bus tour – a hop on hop off as you like at various designated sightseeing hotspots across the city kind of tour. I decided against the bus tour but did however take advantage of the map to direct myself towards the all the touristy things in the Old Town. Strange how every city has an Old Town – Marseille, Geneva, Lyon, Dresden - and all so originally named too! En route I bought a guide book and proper map – something that would actually by of use to me. I also bought some postcards. I was wandering along in the rain beginning to question whether it was actually a good idea to have brought myself to Dresden… I stopped for lunch in a café. I, with the help of my dictionary, managed to find and order Tomatencrèmesuppe mit Sahnehäubchen und geröstetem Toast and a Pott heiße Schokolade. After lunch I asked ‘Haben Sie eine toilleten?’ which they did – upstairs. Any doubts I had been having about having come to Dresden alone were soon wiped out when I fell across the Old Town. I spent the next 3 hours wandering round, completely in my element, snapping away merrily with my camera although fully aware that I hadn’t brought my laptop with me so I wouldn’t be able to download my photos from my camera. Therefore my snapping had to be kept under control – you all know how many photos I like to take of all and everything! Yesterday (gosh, was that only yesterday?! It feels like so much longer) I took 105 photos of Oybin! I was sure my memory card would be able to cope though – I’d had enough space when I went to Lyon, Grenoble and Geneva. After my wandering and snapping, with my umbrella going up and down as and when the weather dictated, after I’d walked along the banks of the River Elbe, seen Dresden’s Old Town, discovered that I can walk to the top of the Frauenkirche tomorrow and also, if I so desire (which I don’t think I do due to time restrains) take a boat up/down the River Elbe to neighbouring places. After all that, I plonked myself in a café in the square I’d first stumbled across after lunch and did such a German thing – I had Kaffee und Kuchen – Dresdner Eierschecke Kuchen to be precise. I sat reading my tour guide I’d bought earlier and looking at the photos I’d taken, and just generally watching the world go by. I began to get a little cold so decided to make my way to the Youth Hostel. I started walking back to the main train station as I had directions from there to catch tram number 7 in the direction of Weixdorf. I didn’t have to walk as far as the station as I fell across a tram stop beforehand displaying, among many other numbers, a number 7. Now all I needed was a ticket… The shop which appeared to sell tickets was closed. Time to consult the phrasebook. I located the phrase ‘Wo kann ich Fahrscheine lösen?’ and picked my victim wisely. A lady, maybe in her fifties. I pointed to the phrase and attempted to pronounce it. She pointed across the tram track and said ‘yellow box’ in English. Funny how people always automatically go to English even though she couldn’t possible have known I was English as my phrasebook is French-German as I bought it in Marseille. Anyway, I thanked her and crossed the tramway to the ‘yellow box’. Never before have I seen so many ticket choices! Thank goodness for the English translations below or I’d have been there for hours with my dictionary! I bought a ‘Einzelfahrt’ for €1,80 and crossed back over so as to get on the tram going in the right direction. I didn’t have to wait long before my bright yellow guided vehicle, aka tram, arrived. Bless the Germans for being so high tech, modern and organised – there wasn’t just a map of the tram network showing all the tram stops but also a computer screen showing the upcoming stops and displaying the next stop so I knew exactly where I was going and when to get off. I got off at ‘Bischofsweg’ – the stop I wanted, and followed my instructions to the Youth Hostel. It was very easy and only about a 5 minute walk. Right, time for the phrasebook again! But no, no need. The man at reception may as well have been bilingual – his English was excellent. I filled in a form, decided that yes, I did want bed linen and yes, I would like breakfast. I then paid and was given a key and told to go to the second floor and use said key to open the door with the white rabbit on and then I was in room 14. When I went into room 14, there were 2 people in there and 2 beds out of the 6 were taken. I’m very pleased with my bed and the hostel is nice. It’s clean, the staff are very friendly and helpful, and it’s comfortable – not too big but not tiny either. As I unpacked and settled down I felt proud: proud to have navigated my way here; proud to have had a wonderful afternoon. I felt happy: happy to be there and looking forward to the rest of my holiday. But now I’m exhausted and so to bed. But not before I tell you about my shower experience. The bathroom’s fine – there’s a shower, toilet and wash basin. It’s clean, the water’s hot. The problem wasn’t with any of that. The problem was with the bath: it’s filled with soil and has cacti planted in it… in a bathroom!! Not many things I can say freak me out, not all that much disturbs me, but, for reasons I cannot explain, a bath filled with soil and planted with cacti in a bathroom is just plain wrong! Goodnight!
Oybin
Above - the view of the village from the castle.
Above - a little rain.
Above - the castle.
Above - The village of Oybin - just look at that sky!
Above - the restaurant.
Above - my meal.
Above - the rocks among the forest.
Above - low lying mist.
So we got in Heidi’s new red beetle car and drove to Oybin. And it started to rain. The weather here is so changeable. Showers, sun, cloudy, hot, rainbows, wind… We arrived in Oybin, which really is half way up a mountain, and the torrential rain had eased off. We walked through the forest (in the mud, in flip flops!) and up the mountain as the rain began falling again. When we reached the castle at the top it was fine again. We went in the castle and walked around. The views were spectacular – there were rocks, huge rocks, huge like I’ve never seen before, jutting from out of the forest. We walked around, our umbrellas up one minute then down the next, until we were back in the village. The houses were so particular, so perfect. Everywhere so clean. I felt like I was standing in a life size model village. We stopped in a restaurant for dinner and, despite the rain, sat outside, but under the canapé. The restaurant, from outside, can only be described as looking like something from out of a fairytale, either that or how I imagine Austria to be, which, considering I’ve never actually been to Austria, could be the most ridiculous comparison ever. Anyway, the meal was delicious – I had a choice from the ‘meatless’ section of the menu! I chose Kartoffentaschen mit Frischkäse gefüllt dazu eine kleine Salatbeilage und Toast which was like small parcels of batter filled with a potato and cheese mix. As we ate it started to get greyer and greyer – rain was imminent. By the time we’d eaten the main course it was colder and a storm like I’ve never experienced before had arrived. Fork lightening and claps of thunder so loud we were having to shout at each other in order to be heard. We sat drinking hot chocolate whilst waiting for the storm to pass. We then made our way back to the car to go back to Herrnhut. Although we were completely inappropriately dressed I wouldn’t have had the weather any other way – to see the lightening in the picturesque village only served to make the whole experience even more like something our of a picture book, it also made for some interesting photos of low lying mist and streaming rain. After we’d got home and I’d showered I went up to Heidi’s apartment for a cup of tea with her, her flatmate Renée, and Renée’s aunt and uncle who were over visiting for a few days from America after having attended the same wedding as Renée in Portugal the weekend before. Originally I was going to go to Leipzig with them the following day (Saturday), we were going to leave at 6h and have breakfast at Bäckerei Paul (Karin’s bakery – Karin from the first week of teaching who invited me for afternoon tea and to a missionary meeting) and then to Leipzig, but as Renée and her aunt and uncle had been on a day trip to Prague they were exhausted and decided against going to Leipzig. We decided to all eat breakfast together at the more humanly hour of 9h the next morning. American pancakes were to be on the menu.
Friday 11th July 2008
Today was the last day of teaching. We had reached the end of our 2 one-week-intensive English courses. Angelika (one of the students) brought in beautiful pink flowers for both me and Heidi which she had picked from her garden. Heidi was working until the afternoon so it was just me, Angelika, Claudia and Karin for coffee and lunch. It was quite sad that it was the last day of teaching. I’ve really enjoyed it. More so this week than last, I think because I was fully in control of everything the students were learning this week whereas last week the students had two teachers. We’ve covered so much – there is/are, there was/were, the present continuous, the present perfect contrasted with the past simple and then ‘going to’ for taking about future plans. We looked at countable and uncountable nouns and quantifiers. I set homework and lots of it – grammar exercises, a reading comprehension and a writing task. It was great. And because I taught them 3 hours a day and had mid-morning coffee and then lunch with them I felt like I got to know them all. It was more than just teaching, there was a definite social side to the course too which, in many ways, was equally as important as the actual learning. At lunch Karin gave both me and Heidi a ceramic green leaf necklace. We then gave a tour of the Jesus Haus as it had been something the students had particularly requested. After the tour we all said goodbye and the students left. Heidi asked me whether I’d like to go to Oybin – a village in the mountains. I said I would so we decided to go. We were both wearing jeans and shoes but as the sun was shining and it was hot we changed into cropped trousers, t-shirts and flip flops…
mercredi 9 juillet 2008
Montag, Dienstag und Mittwoch
Today the second week began. And with the second week came the second English course. This week there are fewer students – only 3. There is Karin from last week and Claudia and Angelica. Jenny and Jannik aren’t cooking for us this week but there is still coffee and cake at 11h and we still have lunch together at 13h. I met my students at 9h30 this morning after registration and took them to the summer house. The summer house is good for teaching in – it’s light and bright and airy and is just generally more pleasant than upstairs. We worked through ‘there is’ and ‘there are’ and then progressed onto ‘there was’ and ‘there were’. We went for coffee at 11h and when we walked into the room (a different room from last week) there was no one there but there was hot tea and coffee and a plate of biscuits on the table – it was like the tea fairy had been! We drank and ate and then went back to the summer house for the second lesson. We got through more of what I’d planned than I’d expected which is good – it means we’ll cover lots this week. Tomorrow I’m planning on doing the present continuous and when to use it rather than the present simple which will then neatly lead into the present continuous in the future – ‘going to’ phrases. Heidi is leaving all the teaching to me this week which I’m really happy about because it means that I can plan the whole week and really progress with the students more than if they had two teachers. We’re thinking of doing a film afternoon one afternoon too. At 13h we went to eat. As it’s Restoration Week (where everyone gets together to do repairs to the Jesus Haus) then everyone involved in that is eating together so we’re eating with them. After lunch I went to find the post office. I located it by the ‘post office’ looking sign outside. However when I went in it looked to me anything but a post office – more of a mail order catalogue centre with a lady on a computer and lots of magazines. There were certainly no ‘post office’ like things – no counters or stamp machines. I was beginning to wonder whether I was even in the post office! When the lady said ‘Guten Tag’ to me I replied with ‘Guten Tag’ and then ‘Kein Deutsch’ I then read from my phrasebook – ‘funf Briefmarke bitte’. And it worked! Until she said the price – she had to show me the calculator! Ha! I went back to the Jesus Haus and wrote my postcards sticking on the stamps and then went to post them.
Since posting my postcards I have planned my lessons for tomorrow. The weather is cloudy and it looks like it might rain again (we had a heavy shower this morning). I want to know where the sun has gone. Renée came back today – she is Heidi’s flatmate and has been in Portugal for the past week at a family wedding (she isn’t Portuguese, she’s American). She was due back at Dresden Airport last night at 22h10 but her flight in Lisbon was delayed. She left her hotel room at 6h30 on Sunday morning and didn’t make it back to Herrnhut until 11h45 this morning – Monday!
On Tuesday I did the present continuous with my students as planned. In the afternoon I helped Heidi do her marking which was fun. She lent me a cassette of the history of the English language which I started to listen to in the evening after planning the lessons for the next day. On Wednesday I did the present perfect and past simple with my class. Something I intend to do more on tomorrow as they found it challenging. Today is Hannaloore's birthday - she is a student from the course last week and she is having a small gathering at her house tonight which I'm going to. Tomorrow afternoon we are doing a film afternoon. We're going to be watching 'My big Fat Greek Wedding' which is a comedy. I've never seen it so it should be good. Afterwards there will be coffee and cake!! It's the Thursday afternoon tradition here! And then Friday will be the last day of the second course...
Since posting my postcards I have planned my lessons for tomorrow. The weather is cloudy and it looks like it might rain again (we had a heavy shower this morning). I want to know where the sun has gone. Renée came back today – she is Heidi’s flatmate and has been in Portugal for the past week at a family wedding (she isn’t Portuguese, she’s American). She was due back at Dresden Airport last night at 22h10 but her flight in Lisbon was delayed. She left her hotel room at 6h30 on Sunday morning and didn’t make it back to Herrnhut until 11h45 this morning – Monday!
On Tuesday I did the present continuous with my students as planned. In the afternoon I helped Heidi do her marking which was fun. She lent me a cassette of the history of the English language which I started to listen to in the evening after planning the lessons for the next day. On Wednesday I did the present perfect and past simple with my class. Something I intend to do more on tomorrow as they found it challenging. Today is Hannaloore's birthday - she is a student from the course last week and she is having a small gathering at her house tonight which I'm going to. Tomorrow afternoon we are doing a film afternoon. We're going to be watching 'My big Fat Greek Wedding' which is a comedy. I've never seen it so it should be good. Afterwards there will be coffee and cake!! It's the Thursday afternoon tradition here! And then Friday will be the last day of the second course...
samedi 5 juillet 2008
Poland
Above - Horst and Jannik with the makeshift hosepipe pour the petrol into the minibus.
Above - Görlitz city centre.
Above - Görlitz city centre.
Above - Görlitz city centre.
Above - Görlitz city centre.
Above - the glass blowing shop - see the things in the plant pots?
Above - nearly everyone from the trip - (from left to right) Karin's daughter, Karin, Annetta, Jenny, Beata, Jannik, Me, Karin and Horst.
Above - Jenny and Jannik with the whispering arch. You whispered into one side and person with their ear to the other side could hear! Apparently it wasn't built to be like this but was discovered afterwards that you could whisper from one side to the other. Quite who or how discovered this is not know...
Above - Jenny and Heidi.
Above - Standing in Poland looking across the river to Germany.
Above - Standing on the border looking at Poland.
Above - in the Polish restaurant.
Above - Piroggen - a Polish meal and vegetarian too!
Above - apple cake and hot chocolate.
Above - the Polish restaurant where we ate.
Avove - Poland. Can you see how different it is from Germany?
On Saturday morning at 9h we gathered as a group under the grey skies of Herrnhut outside the Jesus Haus. I was beginning to regret not packing a winter coat, or at least a jumper. But after 33*C just a couple of days ago how can we now be struggling to get to 20*C??! There was Jenny and Jannik, Karin and her daughter, the other Karin, Hannaloore, Horst, Maren, Beata, Annetta, Heidi and myself. Some of us went in the Jesus Haus minibus, some of us went in Karin’s car. We were heading on a daytrip, to mark the end of the English course, to Görlitz –
Görlitz – Historical City on the River Neisse
Görlitz is called a city and well, if Herrnhut is a town then I guess that Görlitz is a city! Although I do have to question the German definition of ‘town’ and ‘city’ – I dread to think what a ‘village’ is... Anyway, Görlitz is the largest place around here and has been in existence in one way or another from 1071. Its geographic situation is interesting – it’s so much on the border with Poland that half of it is actually in Poland. The river Neisse has, since the end of the Second World War, formed the border between Germany and Poland and it just so happened that Görlitz got in the way when the border line was drawn up and so was split into two by the river. Today a bridge allows easy border hopping between Germany and Poland. But of course in this modern day and age, in such a civilised world, two developed countries could not be seen to be harmoniously sharing a town, city, whatever. Oh no, poor old unfortunate Görlitz has been well and truly divided – both geographically by the river and politically by the German-Poland border. The Polish part has been renamed Zgorzelec and is, according to Poland, not actually a part of Görlitz - which is German. So, depending on how you look at it you could say that the two towns of Görlitz and Zgorzelec used to be as one but are now separated in everyway possible and all that remains to remind us that they were once a unity is that little wooden bridge running over the river…
But if you think Görlitz has an identity crisis then you should spare a thought for Zittau – the city on three borders! (Germany-Poland-Czech Republic)
One of my students here – Horst, he’s retired and was actually born in what is today Poland, although at the time it was Germany. This information caused the stirring of a long and distant history lesson from school telling me that yes, I did know that the whole of Germany was shifted west at some point. Anyway, it was interesting to think he was born in Germany, his parents were German, he is German, but today, his birth place is actually in Poland!
The level of unemployment here, according to Heidi, is higher than in other parts of Germany, but yet she has found a market for teaching English. The people here did not learn English at school. If you talk to people in their forties they will tell you that English was not offered at school. The majority of them learnt Russian. For that reason the level of English here is virtually non existent with anyone over the age of thirty. They were not given the opportunity to learn. They can, however, give you the odd word of Russian. It’s still really obvious here that there is still an East/West divide in Germany but I’m told that it’s more evident in the East than the West. The area is still relatively poor and its ties with eastern Europe are far far stronger than with western Europe, which is something that is reflected in the area’s history, as well as linguistically: whether it be the lack of English-speaking Germans or the influence of eastern European Languages on the German spoken in this area.
Anyway, back to the day trip!
It took us about 40 minutes to get there but as we stopped to ask for directions to the centre Jannik stopped the engine of the minibus and it wouldn’t start again. We were parked on a bit of a slope and the petrol marker was nearing empty so we all got out of the back to try and raise the level of the back a bit to allow the petrol to flow through to the engine but it wasn’t working. We allowed the minibus to roll around the corner and then pushed it into a parking space so we weren’t blocking the road. Everyone seemed pretty convinced it wasn’t broken; it had just ran out of petrol. Thankfully Karin had come in her car so she went with Hannaloore and Horst to buy petrol. We then had to somehow get the petrol from the canister into the minibus… time for a bit of improvisation. Horst quickly drank his bottle of water and Maren supplied a Swiss knife. Before long we soon had out own makeshift hosepipe to siphon the petrol from the canister into the minibus! Whilst Jannik and Horst were topping up the minibus with petrol Karin drove a car-full of us to the city centre as we had to be there for 10h40 for our bus tour complete with English commentary (Everyone except me may have been German but this was a trip which was part of the English course hence the English commentary which had actually been translated and recorded, by Heidi, for the company). Before Karin had got back to take a second car load of us to the centre Jannik had got the minibus going and we were on our way. We were there under the grey skies in a cold Görlitz on time. It’s just a shame that our bus tour wasn’t. Whilst we were waiting we looked in the church which dated from the 17th century but still our bus tour wasn’t ready. It was at this point that I saw and heard (although I didn’t really understand all of what was said) the directness of the Germans. If they are not happy then they sure aren’t slow in coming forward in saying! Hannaloore was amazing. She made it quite clear this was unacceptable as Heidi had actually booked the tour 3 days ago so they should have been prepared for us. Heidi told me that Hannaloore said he could at least take us on a walking tour of the city to compensate! Which he did start but as Heidi was translating it for me she said he seemed a bit ‘put on the spot’ and after a few sentences he left us in a glass blowing shop. It was a shop where the glass was blown on site. Apparently the area is well known for its glass. The glass was pretty and was useful too – it had been blown into a shape like what is inside a thermometer holding the liquid, but much bigger. You filled it with water and put it in your potted plants so that they were watered whilst you were on holiday – the water just slowly trickled out. Neat! After the glass blowing, the bus tour was still no where in sight so we decided not to wait around any longer. We went to the tourist information office and picked up a map which had a tour marked out that you could walk. The leaflets were available in German, Polish or English. I was surprised that there weren’t more languages but apparently the region is not particularly popular with tourists what with it being so far away from any main cities. Therefore they aren’t very up on their translating. We had just started our very own guided tour of the city when the bus tour man came to say that the tour bus had arrived and he’d even managed to find his English CD. We abandoned our own makeshift tour to go on the bus tour instead. It took about half an hour but we saw the main parts of the city and learnt a bit about it too. It’s quite a rich city which is evident in some of the architecture which is in the Baroque style. We drove alongside the river Neisse and could see Poland on the other side of the river! After the tour had finished the bus driver dropped us off by the bridge which we crossed over the river Neisse and into Poland. The border is now fully open and you can wander from country to country quite freely. It has only been like this since January of this year, before you needed your passport to hop from country to country. Even though, theoretically, the part of Görlitz in Poland is the same city as the Görlitz in Germany it evidently can’t be just one city as Dresden or Berlin is one city. Not only does the river divide it but you also needed your passport to move from one side of the city to another as recently as December 2007. And just by crossing the river the differences are evident. On one side of the river, in Germany, are rich, impressive Baroque houses, churches and other buildings. On the other side, in Poland, are poorer, more run down, more ‘communist-looking’ buildings and the language immediately changes too. You might think such a city would be bi-lingual but no. The people are most definitely Polish; they speak Polish and some, like one of the waitresses in the Polish restaurant, prefer English as a second language rather than German. It was all quite strange. Nobody quite knew which language to communicate in. We went to a lovely restaurant in Poland for lunch. It reminded me, from the inside, of an old English country pub. We sat around a big table upstairs and as there were 12 of us and only one toilet we formed a rather large queue! Afterwards we ordered drinks – I had an orange juice but some people had coffee or tonic water or apple juice – others had both! Then we had menu problems. Not only did we only have one food menu between the 12 of us, it was also in Polish! We did eventually get a German one. I was surprised to find two vegetarian options and one of them was a typical Polish dish! So I decided to be adventurous and try Polish cuisine. I had ‘Piroggen’ which is like small parcels made out of some kind of dough, it tasted like it had been fried but yet it wasn’t fatty. It was a cross between batter and samosa pastry and was stuffed with vegetables and sauerkraut – a typically German cabbage. I then had apple cake and a hot chocolate. I also tried some of Karin’s typically Polish soup which tasted like it was made with beetroot – it was quite nice. The meal was truly delicious and so so so cheap. I couldn’t believe how cheap it was. It was only €7,74!! And Poland, it seems, is very much like Switzerland in its currency. They do accept the Euro but they also have their own currency – the zloty, and everything is priced in zloty just like everything is Switzerland is priced in Swiss Francs. Anyway, 24 zloty and €7,74 later - Bargain! After lunch the weather had improved and grey skies had given way to blueness and sunshine. We walked back across the bridge and through the German part of the city to our minibus. We got back to Herrnhut at about 17h40 and all said goodbye to each other.
It has been a really really enjoyable week in so many ways. The teaching has gone incredibly well. Everyone has been so nice. We have all met at 11h each day for coffee and cake. We all ate lunch together which Jenny and Jannik had prepared for us. We celebrated American Independence Day together and then, today, we all went to Görlitz and Poland together. I wonder whether next week could possibly be anywhere near as amazing?
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