Shit-Shiraoka`s setsumeikii

This week has been a small campaign week for Shane, which culminated in a few schools were open for trials and demonstration lessons (over-ambitiously all were scheduled to be open, but some had to be closed, unfortunately, not mine, more unfortunately, Sean`s was, but he was assigned another one, much further away and with an unattractive receptionist).

This meant Saturday night`s fun had to be curtailed, although it was already drastically reduced by the non-appearance of the fabulous Suzuki-san. George had forgotten his promise to flyer all the hairdressers of Omiya and I had confused the nights, so it was almost better than he didn`t turn up and think me a weird liar. It was a good night though, some decent DJs were playing and so it was a shame to have to head home at a sensible hour and after only three gins. I was tempted to call in sick, but this is not financially viable (not only are you not paid, but the DoS`s rate is deducted thereby leaving you considerably shorter) and I was out with Steven, who was on standby and quite happy to tell anyone how happy and healthy I appeared on the previous evening.

The early night didn`t make Sunday any easier. I got there early as I knew I had a packed schedule (the receptionists at Shin-Shiraoka are highly skilled at shoe-horning in students and possible students to any teacher`s already crammed schedule), but had no idea what to do with anyone. I managed to cobble together a lesson for the demonstration class I had first, using all sorts of techniques I wouldn`t ordinarily bother with/have time to prepare, and was fairly pleased with the class. The receptionist had insisted I use the first lesson of the book as this was where they would start, although they were at a far more advanced level. This was a big mistake and I will argue my case next time. I had to endure thirty minutes of torture with three teenage girls giggling and whispering `my name is...` only for their parents to sit at the back whispering and giggling too. One of the fathers was particularly rude and next time I will send anyone who behaves in that way out of my class. The rest of the day was OK. I interviewed a very handsome tennis coach with patchy English and a housewife who spoke German and Russian, but claimed (in English) to speak no English. I also had to give a few make up lessons, including one to a timid woman wearing an obvious wig, it took all my strength not to stare at.

Afterwards, I met up with Sean, Adam and Riaz and treated myself to a feast at the Asian Kitchen. Riaz regaled us with tales of Shit-Shiraoka`s past wrong-doings and his methods of correction from when he taught there. I`m off there again now and have to steady my nerve. It`s not so bad and the child from hell is being handed over to a new teacher soon, so I will try to welcome the new teacher who starts today with more optimism than I received on my first day.