I feel bad for saying it because she's 68,  but merte can be a right arsehole sometimes.

we had to give another demonstration class a few weeks ago,  but this time to our bosses.  I'd been working for a few weeks,  writing up lesson plans from a textbook they'd given me.  they wanted the demonstration class to be what we were going to teach our students on their first class.

no sweat.

the day before the demonstration class,  they gave me a different textbook and told me to work from that instead.  slightly pissed off.  trying to remain calm,  I put all my lesson plans into the bin,  and started again.  not much time to plan a lesson.

but still,  no sweat.

so,  present continuous tense.  an easy one,  but an essential one.  I'd cut up little cards with actions to hand out to my students - 'jump',  'read',  'listen'.  the plan was to get each student to do the action,  and ask everyone else what they were doing.  "he is hopping!".  easy.  present continuous tense.

the teachers came in (along with merte) and sat down,  and I handed out my cards.  it was at this point that merte started sniggering.

now I was pretty nervous - it was 8am,  so I couldn't really have my usual betablockers/beer combination before going into a class.  mainly because I'd woken up at 745,  but still.

I could feel my face beginning to get redder as I got angrier.

after that was over,  I started asking the teachers what they were doing later - "I am eating later!",  to show that you can also use present continuous to talk about definite actions that are going to happen in the future.

merte's hand shoots up.  "but you are wrong!"

by this point,  my face is scarlet.  "I'm sorry?",  I said.

"no no no,  you are wrong.  you cannot use it for this."

(I would like to point out here that merte always says I am wrong.  about everything.  from directions to chinese to how to work computers.  I am always wrong.  and not just wrong,  "no no no,  wrong.".  maybe I have some weird west coast paranoia happening,  but I'm sure she thinks because she is older that she is far wiser than me.)

I marched over to my bag,  brought out my big bumper book of grammar,  while practically screaming "OKAY MERTE,  YOU SAY I AM WRONG.  LET'S LOOK IT UP IN THE BOOK,  SHALL WE?  THE BOOK.  WHAT DOES THE BOOK SAY?" *flicking pages frantically* "OH THE BOOK SAYS PRESENT CONTINUOUS TENSE IS USED WHEN TALKING ABOUT ACTIONS HAPPENING NOW,  AND FOR DEFINITE PLANS IN THE FUTURE.  SO THE BOOK SAYS THAT IT IS YOU WHO IS WRONG MERTE,  AND IT IS ME WHO IS RIGHT.  THANK.  YOU."

end of lesson.

"well,  that was good."  says my boss andy "merte,  what did you think?"

"oh,  no comment!"  was her reply.  still sniggering.

by now my head had exploded in a david cronenberg style spectacular,  and my brains were dripping down the whiteboard.  not really.  but almost.  

my turn to listen to her lesson.

"now I am about to give you the vocabulary for the family members that you have."  she said in her thick german accent "can you tell me please - who goes with mother?"

please bear in mind that at this point she was supposed to be teaching the advanced classes.  advanced classes,  and she was teaching the word "father".  I think I blacked out with rage at this point,  I can't remember the rest of her lesson.  it probably wasn't that memorable anyway.

and andy didn't ask me my opinion at the end of it.  he knew better.

we got back to the office,  and I calmed down slightly.  I was sitting back at my computer when she leaned into me all confidential like,  and said "I give you some advice.  do not teach them this lesson which you taught earlier!  they will know it and it will bore them.".  I nearly spat coffee in her face.  my anger level went through the roof,  and I had to excuse myself before I backhanded her.

after sitting and shaking and smoking in my apartment for 15 minutes,  I managed to make it back to the office and not make eye-contact with her for the rest of the day.

back to today.  tuesday is the day of my two year-eleven classes.  the 'culture' classes.  I'd been told last week that today's culture class would be cancelled,  they had an exam.  then a couple of days ago I was asked what I was teaching them on tuesday.

"nothing",  I said,  face in a bag of banana chips "got exams."

of course,  it turned out that they'd had their exams already,  and I was supposed to teach them something.  great.

merte had been moaning for two weeks solid for someone to buy her a copy of 'east is east' on DVD - she wanted to show her two culture classes it in installments,  and it was agreed that I would do the same.  in an insane act of kindness,  I eventually downloaded it for her,  burned it to a disk and gave her it last night.  after multiple visits to get her to understand how to watch it on a DVD player (I was wrong you see.  she's not a spastic.) I managed to get away from her.

then this morning I see her on the way to the office.  "no no no,  we do not show this film to the students.  no.  it is not suitable."

great.  not even my idea,  but suddenly I'm partly to blame.

so,  back to andy's suggestion.  pick something from the box of national geographic DVDs.  thrilling.

merte decides on volcanoes.  "we do volcanoes.".  merte cannot say the word "volcanoes".  she says "vol-can-os",  not "vol-cane-oes".  I do "volcanoes",  merte do "vol-can-os".  this was the first thing that pissed me off.

merte - "what do you call this,  this melted rock?"

me - "lava? magma?"

merte - "no no no,  you are wrong.  rock,  I said rock."

me - "oh,  igneous rock?"

merte - "yes.  I give them this.  vocabulary."

now,  I'm sorry.  I know the term 'igneous rock' from 1st year geography.  I think today is maybe the first time I have used it since 1st year geography.  I wish I didn't know the term 'igneous rock' - it's taking up space which could be used for something more useful.  but there you go.

now I'm more pissed off.

I tried explaining to her that we were here to teach english.  english.  not geography or geology in english,  but the english language.  lovely,  wonderful english language that you use when you want to buy sausage rolls and oval bites.  not boring,  rubbish english language that you use to go on a field trip up mount vesuvius.

of course,  I was wrong.  "no no no,  they must know it.  it is in the documentary."

"yes merte,  and it is explained in the documentary.  that's what documentaries are.  you watch them when you're bored,  learn something,  it ends and you forget it.  that's how it works."

"no no no,  you are wrong!  I teach it,  you do as you like."

now I'm really pissed off.  

"merte,  did you know these words?  no.  you had to ask me.  a lot of native english speakers will not know these words.  they are not important,  there is no need for them to learn this unless they are going to go and study geology - which,  if they do,  they will learn then."

"no no no."

fine.  I planned my own lesson based on idioms or slang sayings that were related to natural disaster - people erupting with laughter,  someone blowing their top,  ground-breaking news.  all that shit.  useful shit that gets used on a daily basis on tv and in speech and in the newspapers.  not igneous rock shit that gets used on fucking field-trips.

I'm typing away,  quite content that my plan is far more useful than hers,  and the next thing I notice is that she's behind me,  reading what I am typing.

"ah,  this is good.  we do this too."

so she fucking stole my lesson plan ideas!  I would have been happy to share them with her if she'd listened to me in the first place,  but unfortunately I was wrong.  I'd have been happier to share them with her if she ever had some good ideas of her own,  but sadly that is too much to ask for.

and then,  to make it worse - when David Han asked us what we were going to be teaching,  she jumped in and said "we have had a very good idea,  we teach them some uneducated sayings that are used to do with vol-can-os."  we?  we!  WE?!  and I'm sorry,  but slang does not equal uneducated.  that is ridiculously snotty.

mega-mega pissed off.  more than pissed off.  blowing my top and erupting with rage.

and of course,  when I finally got to my first class,  the room didn't even have a DVD player to show the documentary - so I had to stand and talk absolute shite about blizzards and earthquakes (I am so sick of hearing that there was an earthquake in tangshan.  seriously.) and sandstorms and floods and tsunamis and monsoons and the rest of it.

the second class I couldn't be fucked talking to,  I just gave them a 10 minute "blow your top - you're angry.  erupt with laughter - happy.  film?",  shoved the DVD in and left them to it.

merte's comments?  "I think your first class was much better."

oh fuck off.

snake gall refreshing shampoo!  I don't know what that is.  I can guess though.  refreshing!

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