When is a brick just a brick?

First week teaching this week. I see six or so different classes a day and each class varies in age and ability. Remembering names can be hard!! Luckily for me though the children at the school have all adopted an English name. There are many Sophias, Tonys and Erics and a couple with much more distinctive names.....

Toni: Hello my name is Toni. What is your name?

Child : Bin.

Toni: Ben?

Child : No, Bin.

Toni: Ben?

Child : No, Bin. B. I. N.

Toni: Oh Bin. Well hello Bin. And who are you?

Child: He's Daddy.

I have to admit the children with the more memorable names are far easier to remember and they know they have unusual names and you can almost see it coming as they hesitate to tell you their names. Teaching is OK and the day normally passes quite quickly. I work in two school so it is great to see two differing environments and how they are managed differently.

The Medical

One of the requirements of my visa is that i undertake a medical. This involves a hearing, dental, and eye test as well as giving a sample of blood and urine. I was also required to give a chest x-ray. As you can imagine a medical is a joyful occasion. Not. All seemed to be going well until my chest X-ray. The Dr positioned me into the x-ray position and i stood there for a minute or two. The Dr then gestured at me to get out of the position i was stood in, and another Dr joined him. They stared at the machine and started having a rather heated discussion. Now, as an ex smoker i was a little worried. Well, very worried and was wondering why the hell i hadn't learnt the phrase - "Dr, what's wrong?" before leaving the country. The two Drs continued staring at the machine talking heatedly. Then the Dr on the left switched the machine off....and then on again.... repositioned me and took an X-ray. Glad to see some things are the same the world round....

Brick.

When i was having a good look around my flat i noticed something...well...peculiar. Next to my television was a brick. Well, a brick wrapped in toilet paper. Just a bog standard brick wrapped in toilet tissue. I wondered to myself what could this mean? Was it something spiritual perhaps? Something to ward of bad spirits? Perhaps it had a practical use that my western eyes were oblivious to. I had to find out. As soon as i saw my co-worker i questioned him about the origins of the brick? He looked at me blankly.

Turns out, sometimes a brick is just a brick.....

Until next time!!