Post by con's fly is open on Oct 8, 2004 0:29:52 GMT 7
In 17 days I fly back home, exactly one year after I arrived. You can imagine the violently mixed feelings I'm coping with.
I did my year in a great school: I love my co-workers, and I love my students. I never had to watch my back, I was dealt with patiently when I m'kayed up, I was heeded when I saw something awry, and I was respected when I was angry about something.
m'kay, I'm choking up as I write this.
My heart soars every time I think about arriving home. I just wrote a poopload of letters home, all syaing "I could write 100 pages to you now, but I'llsave it for when I see you."
My gut grinds every time I think about leaving. I've started to inform my students that I'm leaving, and it'sa punch in the stomach every time. m'kay, I'm gonna miss the little bastards. I like the sound of the guy who's coming to replace me- we've been corresponding for over a month- and I'm confident I'll leave my 58 junior houligans in decent hands. He shows up on the 14th, which leaves 9 lousy days to get him ready for classes, school, Dasiqiao and China. God help him. I only got 6 from my predecessor, and that wasn't enough.
I'vew resolved to write a pooload of personal letter to my students, reminding them of the things that make each one of them great. I'm gonna try to set up a weblog so that they can keep in touch with me. I'll drop in for Spring Festival to ee everyone...
But an era's come to an end. m'kay. It was a glorious year.
My fellow teachers have all been telling me how much they'll miss me. They are saying (WARNING: BIG BOAST AHEAD) that I'm the best foreign teacher they've ever had, a testament to what poxy trash came before me. And they've all tried in their ways to convince me to sign on for another year.
Well, I'm goin' to Shanghai next year. I'm a big city boy at heart, and this smalltown drivel will not do. I want business as a tech writer, with a gig as ateacher to reliably pay the bills, free time to write whatever the m'kay I please, and the opportunity to meet sexually active women of marrying age.
I have 58 kids in all, and I'll never forget any of them (except Whatshisface, who wears that shirt I don't like). This is the first time I'll hand over classes and start afresh- teachers have to do this every year, and I suppose the first time's the worst.
I did my year in a great school: I love my co-workers, and I love my students. I never had to watch my back, I was dealt with patiently when I m'kayed up, I was heeded when I saw something awry, and I was respected when I was angry about something.
m'kay, I'm choking up as I write this.
My heart soars every time I think about arriving home. I just wrote a poopload of letters home, all syaing "I could write 100 pages to you now, but I'llsave it for when I see you."
My gut grinds every time I think about leaving. I've started to inform my students that I'm leaving, and it'sa punch in the stomach every time. m'kay, I'm gonna miss the little bastards. I like the sound of the guy who's coming to replace me- we've been corresponding for over a month- and I'm confident I'll leave my 58 junior houligans in decent hands. He shows up on the 14th, which leaves 9 lousy days to get him ready for classes, school, Dasiqiao and China. God help him. I only got 6 from my predecessor, and that wasn't enough.
I'vew resolved to write a pooload of personal letter to my students, reminding them of the things that make each one of them great. I'm gonna try to set up a weblog so that they can keep in touch with me. I'll drop in for Spring Festival to ee everyone...
But an era's come to an end. m'kay. It was a glorious year.
My fellow teachers have all been telling me how much they'll miss me. They are saying (WARNING: BIG BOAST AHEAD) that I'm the best foreign teacher they've ever had, a testament to what poxy trash came before me. And they've all tried in their ways to convince me to sign on for another year.
Well, I'm goin' to Shanghai next year. I'm a big city boy at heart, and this smalltown drivel will not do. I want business as a tech writer, with a gig as ateacher to reliably pay the bills, free time to write whatever the m'kay I please, and the opportunity to meet sexually active women of marrying age.
I have 58 kids in all, and I'll never forget any of them (except Whatshisface, who wears that shirt I don't like). This is the first time I'll hand over classes and start afresh- teachers have to do this every year, and I suppose the first time's the worst.
