Blog #2 has come around a lot quicker than I was expecting. It's ridiculously difficult to find the hash key on a MacBook keyboard (alt+3 for the record). Someone have a word. Anyway...
Today's topic is housing. Second years planning to sort it out themselves, if you value your sanity, get something sorted before you leave Britain. Get in contact with people over the net as soon as you find out where you'll be spending your year. Head out over the summer, spend a week or so there and find a place to live.
I say this because it's the exact opposite of what I did. Instead of finding somewhere to live, I spent the summer in denial; "I'm not going until the end of August, I've got loads of time. I'll get on wg-gesucht next week." The end of my third week in Germany is approaching rapidly and I still have yet to take up permanent residence anywhere. There have been numerous occasions in these past weeks where I've seriously considered jacking it all in and returning home with my tail between my legs. I can take the year out and pick third year back up again next year. The fact that I'm still out here shows I managed to talk some sense into myself, but no doubt those feelings will surface again. All this uncertainty isn't good for me.
You'll get told you should probably expect to spend the first few nights in a hostel. I suppose the purpose of this post is to tell you to do some leg work before hand, and not rely on being able to get to whichever country you're going to and find accommodation straight away. I expect most of you have more common sense than that anyway.
Thankfully, my accommodation in Russia is being sorted for me! :D
So anyway, school has been interesting this week. I've discovered I don't really like children. I said that the last time I worked with kids, too. I assumed it was just because I was working with year 9s. Year 9s and year 10s are the worst kind of school children. I'm sure you all remember being in years 9 and 10, and will understand why I dislike them. This time, the children aren't in years 9 and 10, rather they are 9 and 10 years old. Actually, that's unfair. I quite like the 9 and 10 year olds. They have a genuine enthusiasm for school, and seem to enjoy hunting me down so they can practice their new English phrases and questions on me. The ones I don't like are the 6 year olds. The little sh!ts. Luckily, 6 year olds don't study English, so I only have to deal with them once a week.
I've been a lot more involved in English lessons this week. I basically took a lesson on my own yesterday; other than giving the homework at the end and instructions to sit in a circle at the back of the class, the teacher only intervened a couple of times, and that was mostly just to translate an instruction into German. There was only one incident where the teacher had to intervene because the kids had no idea what was going on and I was just confused as to why they weren't getting it. I was trying to get them to write something down, but they had no idea that's what I wanted them to do because I hadn't told them to take their pencils out.
I'm pretty sure that's all I wanted to say. So I'll leave you with a video discovered through my sister's current obsession with Doctor Who and John Simm, and my nostalgic YouTube video searching.
Tschüss!
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