I came back from a quick trip to the post office to find that there was a giant teachers’ meeting in progress. What a surprise, the one time all the teachers are actually in the teachers’ lounge, and I can’t meet them.
So jumping into the middle of conversations is hard enough in one’s native language; imagine doing it in a foreign language. Now multiply that by ten because the Japanese language always assumes you always know the topic being talked about. Multiply it again by ten because half the people are mumbling, and again by ten becausethey’retalkingreallyfast, and again by ten because they’re changing topics every 30 seconds. Finally, multiply by a thousand because the FOUR handouts they gave you (without page numbers) are all written in what might as well be f**king Chinese. I swear, the paper I’m looking at now is solid kanji. The title is 17 kanji long. “Nowifyou’llturntothesecondpagethreepagesbeforetheoneentitledbreedinghabitsofAfricanrhinoceriinrelationtorelayracesandearthquakeswecancommencewiththepresentation.”
Oh yes, and I can’t ask the English teacher next to me for help, because she has her head buried in a mountain of papers and appears to be desperately trying to ignore me. Hm.
And of course, I’m certain they’re practicing the art of using as many words as possible without saying a damn thing.
Update:
2 hours later, and they’re still going at it. Good lord, when will it stop?
