London Employed

Here's a hint - the frequancy of my blogging corresponds to my own personal uncertainty. Happy Leanne = less blogging . Stressed out, uncertain, scared Leanne = more blogging. Just saying.


Anyway - I am presently waiting a call to go into work. This may or may not come (would it be horrible to admit that I would prefer it not come?). In other words, this may be a short entry. Here is what I can admit: I am scared sh*tless to go into the classroom. The reality: I have not taught in over a year, and am fairly certain that I am an incompetant teacher. Ok, Ok - this is a sentiment reiterated by many new teachers. Unlike other new teachers, I am certain I am a bad teacher. Ok...again, I'm sure other new teachers will say the same thing. But really. I am certain. I'm a science teacher - how Leanne ended up as a science teacher is beyond the scope of understanding. Let me think...hmm...what qualified me to teach science? *waiting....waiting...* No answer.

No, in reality, I do know what qualified me - eight years of undergraduate classes that were spread over topics ranging from the Philosophy of Sex & Moral Issues to Forensic & Archaeological Microscopy (sounds fancy, doesn't it?) & Human Skeletal and Dental Biology. I have a fairly moderate understanding of the biological sciences (specifically anything to do with bones, and maybe bone pathology), and a decent understanding of earth science (I like to dig in the earth). I do NOT have an understanding of chemistry. Or Physics...and that's what scares me about teaching science (I also have no math background, which is even more troubling).

How did I get accepted to teacher's college specializing in science? Well...call it a shortage in qualified science teachers, a quota that needed to be filled, and again - those eight years of university courses (I think the governing body decided that somewhere along the way I must have aquired enough knowledge over the years)...


WAIT...INTERRUPTION
Oh this is good (ADD moment) - I'm watching the british news, and you know how Brits love their sensationalism - anyway this woman went away on vacation, and while she was gone, a cleaning company came and emptied her flat into the garbage. Right down to the shower curtain. She estimates her loss at 50,000 pounds (I will learn how to make a pound sign eventually) and the company has reimbursed her 50 pounds...FIFTY! Can you imagine coming home to that??? I think there is a mental note and lessson here...
OK, SORRY

So anyway, my hope is that I don't have to teach science -at least not serious science. You know what I am talking about - chemistry and physics are the perceived serious sciences. The biological sciences derived in both of those topics are also considered the serious sciences. Soo...out of fear, I purchased Bill Bryson's "A Short History of Nearly Everything" (Thanks Judy!) - there is nothing like teaching myself science out of a Bryson book. Luckily he seems pretty keen on learning, and I see nothing wrong with utilizing information from someone who has already reasearched the topic. I could spend years pouring through textbooks, and learn absolutely nothing. He has done an excellent job of presenting topics, without the waste space. At least I think he has...let's face it - I have a short attention span, and I'm barely through the first chapter on the Big Bang.

When I take a closer look at my predicament, I feel an overwhelming sense of selfishness. My fears about teaching, and desire not to teach are ridiculous. England, like America, is in a major financial crisis (or Credit Crunch). Around me, people are struggling to cope with meeting their daily needs. Families are loosing their homes, and struggle to provide the basic necessities for their children. Here I am, in England, not a citizen, making what will be a fairly good wage. Meanwhile, around me, people are trying to sustain themselves on minimum wage, while living in one of the most expensive cities in the world. In it's entirety, the UK as a whole is incredibly expensive. I googled the UK's minimum wage rate - it sits in the vicinity of 6 pounds or just shy of $12.00 CDN an hour. An eight hour work day will result in a net pay of about 50 pounds or $100.

$12.00 an hour? Sounds great, right? Yet in Ontario, our minimum wage (and I am guessing) is around $8.50-$9.00 an hour. So Englanders make an additional $3.00 over us. Swell. Now let's examine the cost of living. In Ontario, it is entirey feasible to get by on $1000 for rent & utilites monthly. Daily, you can sustain yourself on about $15.00 for food. Add a little entertainment. Maybe the internet. Maybe a couple books. Let's add an additional $150 to our costs. Now lets look at England - I am going to be paying $1600 a month on rent and utilities (for a basic room with a shared kitchenette). Transport? about $10/day...food - varies widely - but a cup of coffee is about $3.00 (get the idea?). Entertainment? Who can afford it? Yeah...in Ontario $12.00/hr is great. In England it is appalling.

What do these calculations mean for me? Listening to people struggling to make ends meet, seeing how the locals cannot find work, or cannot find decently paying work, is startling to me. I am here as a foreigner, making a darn good wage (with my expenses potentially reimbursed), all because I happend to go to school for an additional year. I have an English friend making $100/day (CDN)...I'm here making $240-260/day. In America there is animosity towards foreigners - especially those in this exact situation. Truthfully I do feel guilty. When you start to contemplate these calculations, you realize - how f*cking daft am I?

Thanks to the British sensationalist media, I am daily confronted by people who are in absolute dire situations. The BBC latches on to crisis like a leach to skin. I watch the details of people who are attempting to survive the credit crunch, and cannot fully understand it. Then there are the other stories - about the people who have real problems - children struggling to survive, health issues, poverty, collapse, war, etc, etc, etc. What do I have to be upset about?

Ultimately, you knew the credit crunch would eventually enter this blog. I have been in the UK for a week now, and yes it is overwhelming. I am removed from my real-life, and am developing this second life far removed from the first. It is a difficult feeling to comprehend. Leanne Canada versus Leanne UK. They told me that the first 6 weeks were the hardest - dropping everything, moving half way around the world, starting a new life, new career, new everything...its not easy. I am reluctant to have a second life - I hate change - and that's the hardest part. Trying to find that point that both lives can be integrated. Even so, at the end of the day, I know it could be worse and thank goodness I have the BBC to remind me of that.

London Hunt

I am not going to openly say that I have been lazy about my pursuit of a flat. Instead, I will say that I have been less than inspired...far less...
On a daily basis, I have been checking the local flat rental websites, and everytime I am overwhelmed by a barrage of photos, advertising "newly renovated", "modern", "easily accesible", "convienently located" flats in the London area (keep in mind, that the London area seems to be the size of Southern Ontario). Needless to say, every flat claims to have the same features and benefits. The only variation is the price - the price has reaquainted me with my gag reflex.
As I am moderately overwhelmed by the city...and as I am carrying enough luggage to sink a ship, seeking out flats in Croydon (East or West), Putney (Bridge or East), Clapham (Junction or Common), Balham, Brixton, Wimbledon....is far more daunting than I am prepared to deal with. So naturally, being a creature of habit, when the Manager of my hotel informed me that he had a flat to rent, I leapt at the chance.
The benefits of this decision were borne strictly from laziness - the flat is located right across the street from my hotel (no major luggage movement!). But it also fit into the scheme I had developed in Banbury....
I will not rent through an agency
I will not be locked into a lease
I will not spend more than 150pounds/wk
I will not spend additional money on utilites.
Ultimately I have put all of my eggs into one basket - very risque. Even more risky is that I am going to hopefully take the first place that I have viewed. The rent is a bit more, I have to pay for electricity...but...it is in close proximity to two tube stations, Central London, Clapham (Junction and Common!!), and it will allow me time to either aquaint myself with other areas of London or to continue further into the depths of England. I will be committed to three months here - and barring I don't crack in another week, this truthfully does seem like the best option.
I have been a landlord. I can see all of the mistakes that I could potentially be making - but I am making those mistakes with complete clarity....I think....

London Leanne vs. The Laundry Part Deux

The title of this blog is a throw back to Banbury. Briefly, while in Banbury, I decided to do my laundry (I know, novel idea!) - unfortunately I was confronted by a space age machine, that promptly shrunk my clothes. I would like to say that it was not my fault that this happend, and that the intoxicated state that I may (or may not) have been in, was not a contributing factor to the problem. Needless to say, my first attempt at laundry in Britian was a stunning failure. Never did I attempt the laundry again.

As I am starting work early next week, I decided that today would be an idea day to do my weeks worth of accumulated laundry. Admittedly I was skeptical, but decided that since I am going to be here for awhile (that's the plan, anyway), I could not avoid this task. Luckily there is a laundramat just around the corner.

Well, I am pleased to report several things. Firstly, there was an older couple who were obviously laundry virgins (meaning they were more incompetent than me). As they are travelling through the area they were forced to do their own laundry (oh my!) - and let me just say - they were fairly excited by the whole process! Clean laundry...out of a machine...do-it-yourself!! WOW...round of applause. Secondly, I am pleased to report that the machines were derived from North American machines. In other words, aged peices of cr*p that are dirtier on the inside than the outside, with buttons falling off, and should have been retired 20 years ago. These are the machines that I understand :) Finally, I am thrilled to report - I don't think I shrunk anything. This is additionally good, because I have had to relegate myself to eating high calorie junk because it is cheap and I dont have a fridge. Do you realize that the only effective way to eat healthy is to have a fridge? Anyway, I can't afford to shrink my clothes - heck - in another week they will likely need expansion. All in all, I lost a sock, but no that's no great problem (remember, I did go through a year of mismatched socks - mainly because I didn't care but also because I always loose socks).

So that's that. I have plenty of time on my hands today, which I should appreciate while it lasts. At least now I have laundry Saturday's to look forward to! I can also always hope that there will be someone around who actually makes me look semi-competent (I will be adopting this for a teaching strategy).

London Overtaken

Its Friday evening, and I am bored in London. The idea of staggering back into an area overrun with tourists, is highly unappealing (aren’t I just the local??). I’d love to go and shop on Oxford Street, but the idea of dodging despondent Londoners and tourists alike, requires more energy then I feel like expending. I have made no secret of my dislike for London. The locals are cold and full of self importance – if an individual dropped dead on the street in front a Londoner, the Londoner would merely step over the body and continue on their journey. How to best illustrate an example of this mentality? Let me recount a conversation from two days ago…

A Englishman walks into a business, and apologizes for his tardiness; he then follows his apology with his excuse: “Oh yes, I was at the Tube Station, and further up the line someone decided to jump in front of an oncoming train. Delayed the whole system…made a mess of transit.”

Concern for the mental health of the individual that felt the need to take his own life in front of charging train? Zero. Disdain for the interruption to travel?? Well that’s the whole point! (*insert a Mastercard slogan here*..hmmm…Prescription for mood stabilizers 45 pounds. Formal psychological help 250 pounds an hour. Jumping in front of a train during rush hour traffic, whereby disturbing London commuters…priceless.) Truly I am being sarcastic here, and do sympathize for the individual driven to such final means.

Concerned about the reality of living in this city, I said to a friend… “I could see becoming lost in this city…not lost, in terms of search & rescue…but lost in the grand scheme of things. I could see becoming this, and I don’t want to.” His response? “Then don’t.” But really, is that possible…

I rarely hear English being spoken in this city. In fact, I hear everything but English – I’m sure upon closer examination you would likely find languages previously thought to be extinct, quite alive and well here. London is now comprised of a larger than large number of immigrants, visa holders (such as myself), refugees, etc. Every street corner seems to have an English school on it (which still doesn’t seem to change the fact that no one here seems to speak English). Many of these individuals have come from humbling circumstances in Third World countries – and even so – they have become London. Can you live here without letting it overtake you? My friend’s advice to me: “You will get used to it.” Yet I can’t help but wonder, when you get used to it, does it become you?

Talking on the phone (errr…mobile) has become a challenge. London is so loud that it is nearly impossible to hear the ring of a phone. If by chance you do hear your phone, good luck trying to talk. Shouting matches ensue as people cram the streets, each one on a mobile phone, all vying to be heard over one another and over the passing cars. I have attempted to find a quiet location to talk – which has been largely unsuccessful, minus the back alleys. First rule of travel: don’t venture down the back alley alone. Thank goodness rules were meant to be broken.

If you read my blog during my last sojourn into English living, you will know that I have already complained about personal space in London. I just need to reiterate – my personal space has been largely violated. Instead of getting my 20 feet of Canadian personal space, I get -5 feet…and as enjoyable as an elbow in the ribs is (human contact, how touching), I’d prefer not having that experience at all. I am getting to be fairly good at dodging people though (and let me tell you, it’s an awesome workout – forget the gym – head to Oxford Circus…or…better yet…go to a tube station during rush hour – also a good idea if you are trying to learn to deal with your temper and/or stress).

Yet when all is said and done – it’s London. London can be what London likes, and do as London pleases. And right now London in wearing a sombrero, is dressed in a multicoloured poncho, and is advertising a salsa club…

London Daily

I ache. That's really all I have to say. lol...I can barely move my neck or shoulders - soooo...being lazy, instead of going to look for a new hotel in a better location for tomorrow night (and face having to haul my luggage), I am moving two doors down from my existing place. Call it pattern behaviour...I can't face having to be a pack animal again tomorrow. My body is not conditioned for such activity.

On Day 2, I have accomplished little. I did get dressed up and visit my agency (note: the look of relief on the hotel manager's face was fairly evident when I went out this morning - you could literally read his mind: "oh thank goodness! she isn't always a filthy Canadian backpacker! she can clean up!"). As I am running out of time on my internet connection, let me summarize:
I am becoming my own company.
I cannot cross the street without nearly getting hit by vehicles (see a former Banbury post for more info)
I have decided to avoid jay walking until I can properly cross a street
I am looking for a flat in London, but because I am lazy I am considering living in Westminster (again, to avoid moving my luggage!).


Needless to say, on Day 2 I am still surviving- though with moderately more pain than I like :)