Happy Birthday

If for any reason any of my readers happen to have a birthday today, they should know that I wish them a happy one.

My Little Bounty Hunters

In this part of the world, we get a dengue fever outbreak every few years, and we're well-overdue for another.  As near as I can understand, dengue fever is the worst possible thing that can happen--worse than the flu, worse than a car accident, worse than losing a million dollars, worse than death.

It's spread by day mosquitoes (aedes aegyptii), which exist in abundance in the classrooms.

I've instituted a new rule--anyone who kills a mosquito and shows me the body gets a free point on the next exam.  It's called the "Good Citizen Bonus Point" for protecting public welfare.  It's the only thing I can think to do about the mosquitoes.

I'm dead serious about the bonus points, too.

The Teachers' Meeting

School is back in session today.  The previous day, we had a mandatory teachers' meeting...because none of us have anything better to do on our days off than haul our asses in before 8am for a four hour meeting that could easily be compressed into a 25-minute bullet-pointed presentation.

I mean that every bit as insultingly as I have written it.

Every term, we have a teachers' meeting, and every term we review the same material.  Every term, it's mandatory to show up for 2 hours on our days off.

This term's meeting had some new ideas, which it compensated for by doubling in length and stupidity.

First, nearly every speaker is from admin, and everyone knows everyone else.  We, the teachers, all know the speakers as well.  You can see how it's retarded, then, that nearly every speaker spends the first 5 minutes of his/her allotment of 15 minutes rambling on various accolades toward the other speakers in attendance:

I wish, sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, to truly thank my wonderful supervisors...as well as my glorious colleagues...and each and every one of the teachers gathered here today for this opportunity to speak.  I give my highest regards to the most esteemed President of the University.  I likewise give my regards to the Dean for Student-Teacher Relations, the Administrator for Studen Affairs, the Head Dean, and the Vice-Head Dean.  On this most glorious of occasions, I hope to find each of you in the best of health, for it is today that we commence..." blah blah blah, stfu already.  

Even in my punctilious adherence to proper conduct and protocols, I find this attitude to be an extremely difficult-to-accept part of the the culture.  If this were directed outwards during a formal occasion, I could understand that...Yeah, this is a frickin TEACHERS' MEETING.  Just like all the others.

Moreover, Khmer rhetorical style follows that the sort of narration that Westerners usually associate with lecturing small children on "safety"--theatrical, drawn-out, and utterly condescending.  It hammers the same points over and over again.

Add that to starting late (I walked in 25 minutes late and it hadn't begun yet) and you can see why this turned into a five hour meeting.

Some of the monkeyshine highlights:

• Administrator X rather bluntly blamed the entire teaching staff for the school's lower enrollment numbers.  He told us that we weren't making our classes a "happy" place to be, and therefore students are dropping out.  Yes, I'm sure that's the only factor here--the teacher's personality.*  
• One recently-promoted co-teacher blathered on for 90 minutes a "humble story" about the awesomeness of his teaching.  He had been allotted 15 minutes.  You know, it was only funny when Qaddafi did this.
• Apparently, the biggest complaint on the survey (the one they administered during our exam time) was about teachers coming late and leaving early.  (Now I know his ratting was connected to the surveys we endured!)  This was closely followed by complaints about bitchy impatient teachers (glad I'm not the only one).
• The President of the University was quick to add that no surveys had actually been distributed during the exam (implying I'm somehow lying in my earlier entry).
• One administrator made the mistake of asking the teachers what the admin can do to improve learning resources.
• Volunteer:  We'd like access to basic supplies, like erasers, markers, and ink.  *mass cheering and clapping*
• Administrator:  That's out of the question!  That's far too expensive for us to afford.  I mean, what other things can we do?  Do you recommend any textbooks?
• Volunteer 2:  How come we can afford text books, but not basic teaching supplies?  I don't understand how it works!
• Admin:  Well, we get donations from the American Embassy.
• Me:  *You mean we can dictate to the American Embassy which textbooks we get?  What are you guys doing with that $40 hike in tuition fees?*
• Admin: *Shoots down every other suggestion the teachers make*
• Apparently, we are now expected to elect a "class leader" amongst the students who will do homework checks for us.  He will collect a "Homework Portfolio" of assignments that the teacher has assigned throughout the term to turn into administrators--so that it proves teachers are actually assigning homework.  My ass.

I wasn't paying attention to most of it, because I got bored, pulled out my laptop, and started reading an E-book about Hitler instead.  Because reading about a genocidal dictator is more fun than sitting through five hours of that.  One thing for sure is, I'm ain't assigning no "Homework Portfolio".

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*Actually, I'm sure that students are moving their business to ACE, which, since the aforesaid tuition hikes, is only $20 more expensive than our institution, but the staff is paid double what we are and the quality is therefore a million times higher.

More Rats!

"I smell a rat" is a particularly apt phrase--I smelled the rat before I saw it.

Literally.

There's apparently a rat that gets into my apartment at nights. It's a young rat, small enough to fit through the gap between the balcony door and the ground. It came in and totally trashed my apartment. It knocked the trash bin over, ate my hedgehog's food, and formed a small nest behind the furniture. Having kept them as pets in the past, I know exactly what they smell like, which is why I was troubled when I caught a whiff of it.

I first saw him one night when I couldn't sleep, nosing around my table and examining things. I kicked him out and blocked the space underneath the door, but the damn thing is like Wiley Coyote--it keeps finding ways to get in. We're currently engaged in a battle of wits.

Like I've said, I've kept rats before, so it's not especially upsetting to me. It's just interested in my trashcan and crumbs.

Nonetheless, I don't want either the hedgehog or myself to contract its fleas.

Thearea says rats are a problem for virtually everyone in Cambodia...and that a cat is the best defense.

Looks like I'm getting a new pet sometime soon.

Pictures from My Domestic Life

I am painfully aware that you do not care about my domestic life. And why should you care about my domestic life? It's not like you're some kind of creepy stalker who likes to sit behind the computer screen and take careful notes on the bizarre entries that constitute my boring life...right?

Nonetheless, I told you I'd put up pictures of the apartment which I have re-crafted with my own cunning and ingenuity. It's very typical of apartments you find in Phnom Penh, so feast your eyes on all my stuff.

This is the kitchen. You may notice it's very small. The door leads to the bathroom.

If I bother to cook, I do it here. It's a 6 foot cube of compressed struggle when I do that, though. You know, the rats can get in through this window, so I have to remember to close it after I cook.

You may notice there's no sink in my bathroom (which is also a part of my bedroom).

It may look like a nice bed, but I own no sheets. Or blankets. Nor can you see all the epic naval battles and dinosaurs from this angle. Too bad.

If you step out of the bedroom, you find yourself in the hallway.

My other bed. The scarf in the window says, "Supreme". Because I am supreme.

I make no claim upon the wicker table and sofa nor do I own it's pillows. They belong to the landlady who told me I'd die if anything bad happened to them. Exactly what I wanted! The rest of it I bought, though.

A terrible idea.

The "other chair" and "other table" and "other shelves". They serve no purpose, they just take up room so I don't feel neurotically empty and lonely.

The view from my balcony.

And what apartment would be awesome without an upstairs?

Lol, a stand for a small shrine. It was covered with mud when I first came.

My other other bed. You can sleep here. You may notice the ghetto-style screen covering the ventilation window. I made it myself, since they were just going to throw the unused screening away. NO MOSQUITOES SHALL ENTER.

The "gross bathroom". There are two shower heads, and the water heater doesn't actually work.

You get a view from the upstairs.

Feel free to disagree, but I think it's awesome.

Oh, and...you just wasted 3.5 minutes of your life. XD

This Is What Insanity Looks Like

Well, they've gone and done it this time.

Today is exam day for my evening class. Students have exactly 90 minutes to come in, sit down, and fill out 5 pages of English. I show up early to arrange the desks in such a configuration that it's less easy to cheat.

Today, just as I was about to distribute the exam, I got a knock on the door. A courrier came in, telling me it was time for student evaluations.

Now, that particular class happens to be a rather weak class, and a low-elementary level. Given that I have 3 other classes, all of which are very advanced, I have real problems remembering to recalibrate my English to a lower level, especially when I'm tired and hungry. I'm a bit peevish in there, too. So, in all, not the class I'd want them to evaluate--especially not during their very limited exam time!

Our argument went something like this:

Me: NO, you can't evaluate my students! They're taking a test! Get out of here!

Him: Teacher, it's from central admin. We have to evaluate the students.

Me: Why didn't you come last Thursday? During March, like the announcement says? What's wrong with you people?

Him: Please, teacher, we just need 10 minutes...

Me: This is completely stupid!

Him: Just 10 minutes!

Me: Fine, you have 10 minutes. Then I'm coming back.

I went out into the hallway. Eleven minutes later, I barged into my classroom. "Your ten minutes is up! Gimme my classroom back."

Him: Please teacher, 5 minutes more. Your students are late.

Me: THEY NEED TO TAKE THE EXAM. Look, I'm not angry at you, but I need to do my job now!

Him: You can just stay 15 minutes late!

Me: Would YOU want to stay 15 minutes late?

Him: ...No, I wouldn't.

So I stood in the doorway, boring my eyes into his back while he finished the evaluation--which, with my presence there, he managed to do in about 90 seconds.

After the exam, I went downstairs where there was a massive uproar in the teachers lounge. This apparently happened to EVERYONE, and we were all exchanging stories.

The guy who had ratted out the other teacher was most upset of all, and was railing off about Cambodian stupidity. I asked the guy him why he thought this was happening. He had no idea, but I cannot shake the suspicion it might actually have originated from his ratting--when admin caught wind of it, they decided to put up a test to see who's really been doing their jobs and who has not.

And THAT, my readers, is what they call "Bullshit".