Damn it, Deborah Tannen. You were right.

At long last, I think Deborah Tannen is onto something.  Back in college, when I had to read "You Just Don't Understand," I thought her logic concerning the way people communicate was rather faulty.  Upon further review, I see much to learn from considering conversation style.  There are a hundred different ways to communicate oneself, and it's easy to overlook the fact that the way we communicate something will actually affect what we're trying to communicate.  What I say is not necessarily what you'll hear, and vice versa.  So far, my life in the UK has forced me to really think about conversational style.

Early on, I think I gathered a reputation as "the compliment guy."  On the one hand, I like that moniker.  However, I wonder if people think I'm lying when I give compliments.  There is the old piece of advice that says, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."  It's good advice.  I try to take that advice, but I'd like to add something to it.  "If you think something nice about someone, make certain you say it."  Some folks can be more comfortable teasing someone than complimenting them.  Insults can be seen as endearing.  Compliments can make people suspicious.  I don't fully understand that dynamic, but I know I'm horrible at insults.  They never sound playful to me.  I'm also crazy sensitive.  I take people seriously, and it makes me easy to wind up. So, in a golden rule kind of way, I compliment people because I know I like receiving compliments.  I mess them up just as much as insults, but I suppose I'd rather be awkward than cruel, or even silent.  I'd rather err on the side of positivity.

There is something else, though.  There are people I like that don't like themselves. There are people I think are smart that don't see it.  There are people I think are attractive that don't believe it. Sometimes it's easier to see the good in other people rather than ourselves.  Sometimes, it's easier to see the good in yourself when someone else points it out. 

I don't find self-deprecation to be a sign of humility.  Humility is resisting the temptation to trumpet your strengths, but it is not pretending they're not there.  

When I think someone looks nice, I try to tell them.  When I think someone speaks very well, I try to tell them.  When I think someone is admirably strong, I try to tell them.  I want them to know that someone sees it, and hopefully it will make them feel good.  

This particular communication style has not been advantageous in the UK so far.  It actually puts people off and sometimes makes them feel uncomfortable.  In other words, it can have the exact opposite effect from the one I intend.  I have to adapt my communication style.  In the classroom, this is second nature to me.  I don't expect 14 year olds to communicate the same way I do, nor for everyone in the class to communicate the same way as each other.  I adapt my message when necessary to make sure everyone understands it the way I mean it.  Eventually, most students figure out my way in return, and it's a comfortable situation all around. Outside the classroom, it's more difficult.  I'm more likely to get stubborn.  But, I've not given up.  If I can figure out how and when they like to hear things, perhaps I can help them understand and appreciate how and when I like to say things.  I can learn from them, and they can learn from me.  We'll be good for each other.

After all, as an American in Britain, I shouldn't be surprised there are communication issues.  

Life lessons of Berlin

Berlin is an inspiring city.  I was struck by so many things, big and small, that made me not only enjoy my time there, but also respect the people and the place greatly.  It is a city with as tumultuous a history as any in the past century.  It was ravaged by two world wars, destroyed utterly in the second one, split in half for 40 years, and has only been reunited for a quarter century.  It was used as a center for Nazi propaganda and as the focal point for the Cold War.  Its citizens and families experienced pride, shame, horror, forced separation, fear, desperation, and jubilation.  It has been, to put it mildly, an unstable place to live.  And it survived it all.  More than that, it's thriving.  That takes strength and a lot of hard work.

I am in a process of figuring out who I am and who I want to be.  I've been struck by the feeling since moving abroad that it is in my power to make any changes I like, no matter how big.  It's made me analyze so many aspects of my life, much like a building inspector planning out a refurbishment.  Like that inspector, I focus most of my attention on the things I think could be improved.  I also listen to other people's assessments, whether they're given intentionally in words or not, and the whole process can make one a tad self-conscious.  Berlin had to do the same thing.  When its wall came down, and it became one city again, it had to figure out just what it was now and what it wanted to be in the future.  Who could blame the citizens of Berlin if they'd wanted to start all over again, wiping the slate clean?  That wasn't possible, though.  We Americans love our stereotypes in movies, and the only images we'd ever show of Berlin were of The Wall and the Swastika.  Nazis became our stereotype villains.  Berliners can't escape these images, these reminders of the worst parts of their past.  There's no use hiding their past, so they don't try to.  The holocaust memorial, the Soviet war memorial, the German History museum, the DDR museum, the East Side Gallery, Checkpoint Charlie, etc.  It's all there.  They keep it out there so they can grow past it and learn from it.  Even the Reichstag showcases the spirit of the German people.  It's a strong, solid Victorian era building.  When the German bundestag moved back in, they updated the building with a glass and steel dome on top.  Something so modern looking should clash with Victorian stone, and yet it looks like it was meant to be there.  Once inside, you see that the parliament chamber is surrounded by glass on all sides and the top.  You can look down from the dome and in from the main entrance.  "Government should be transparent."

Berlin is open about its past.  It embraces the best parts of its past, but it doesn't dwell on its past.  It has grown, and it continues to grow, into a vibrant new city.  When I stood in Berlin, I felt I was standing in the middle of a very exciting and modern place.  I contrast this to places like Rome and Athens, where I am fascinated by the history, but I feel like the cities have no idea who they are now apart from who they were centuries ago.  Those cities focus so much on who they were that they seem to spend little time thinking about who they want to be.  Perhaps it's because Berlin's history doesn't go as far back or because it doesn't have a gloriously romanticized past, but personally I would rather be Berlin than Rome.  I'd rather think that my best days are ahead of me rather than behind.

A breakdown of my Berlin trip, for the benefit of my parents

Tuesday 12/17

Nadia Baker is a saint.  The woman picked me up at 3:50 am and drove me to Stansted Airport.  I had to ask her this favor, as the trains just didn’t start that early.  I had a 6:25 am flight on Ryan Air.  Nadia is a good and reliable friend.  When I looked for cheap flights to Europe, I picked both Berlin and Ryan Air because of the price.  In the future, I don’t think I’ll bother with Ryan Air if I can avoid it.  The rates are low, but they charge extra for everything.  The fact that I was staying a week and wanted more than just a backpack full of clothes added £50.  Realizing that I would be cutting it close that morning, I reserved my seat (they make everyone sit wherever they like), which added another £20.  In the end, it would be better just sticking with a better airline.  I’d fly BA every time, if I could, but I do admit that Stansted airport is a pretty convenient option for outgoing flights. 

I got to Berlin early, and though I found that I had misinterpreted which S-bahn station I would be at on arrival (I seriously don’t know how I messed that one up), I figured out the transit system pretty easily.  Thanks to my Streetwise Berlin map, I got to the hotel on foot without a hitch.  I am completely sold on Streetwise maps.  My hotel, Pestana, had a room ready for me even though I arrived very early.  The room was quite nice, and the sauna area was quite relaxing, but the gym and pool were far smaller than I’d hoped.  The worst part was the internet.  It’s advertised as free wired internet, but they mean free 128k, but broadband is extra.  That is false advertising.  The 128k didn’t even work.  Internet is crucial enough to my traveling that I do actually decide between hotels based on it.  This was the only disappointment.

I took a nap and a shower, and then I went out to explore Berlin.  I wandered around the Tiergarten, Potsdamer Platz, Brandenburg Gate, and a few other places in Mitte.  I took Melanie Hughes' advice for the first of many times and had a curry wurst and Kostritzer for dinner.  I was relatively tired and was going to go home, but I happened across the Komische Oper, which was showing Die Fledermaus that evening.  I was just thinking about checking out German opera, and I couldn’t believe my luck that good seats were available for such an amazing show.  I did go home and change into my nice clothes, but I returned in the evening for a performance in which I understood no words and could not follow the plot, but I absolutely loved it. 

Wednesday 12/18

Thanks again to Melanie, I made an appointment to tour the Reichstag at 10:30 am.  I had a late night and was very tired, so I regretted the early time for a while, but it ended up being spectacular.  I managed to find a place to grab warm apple strudel on the way there, and I spent almost an hour walking around the dome and learning the history of both the building and the surrounding area of Berlin.  The Bundestag was even in session, and I got to look down on it and in from the entrance.  They emphasize transparency as an important part of their government, and it dawned on me thinking about the suspension of Parliament by Hitler that they really hadn’t ever had a republic before 1920.  It was a monarchy, or a collection of kingdoms, or an empire up until that point.  The 1920’s weren’t exactly good for Germany, so it’s no surprise they didn’t fight harder to keep parliament.  That’s a perspective I’d not considered before. 

I headed over to Hauptbanof across the river to grab some McDonald’s (I’m more adventurous with dinner than with lunch), then I headed through East Berlin on the way to O2 world, where I wanted to get tickets for the Berlin Polar Bears.  On the way, I went into the DDR museum, encompassing the entire 40 year history of East Germany.  It was fascinating, and it was another Melanie suggestion.  I stopped by Alexander Platz, where there was a huge Christmas market.  They’re all over the place, actually, and I love stopping by.  I had a warm alcoholic drink called Gluhwein (mulled wine) and a pretzel.  The pretzels have been great, but cold.  I also walked along the East Side Gallery, which is an existing part of the Berlin wall.  I then realized that I’d forgotten my “Who stole my chicken?” shirt.  I really need to just put it in my side bag permanently.  The Berlin wall would have been a great place for a shot. 

After successfully procuring some hockey tickets for Friday, I took the U-bahn back home.  It was cold outside, and my ankle suddenly started to hurt pretty badly, so I spent the rest of the evening enjoying the downstairs sauna and pool.  It was amazingly relaxing.  I did make it outside once more for dinner, as I’d passed an Argentinian steakhouse on the way home.  The steak was not cooked correctly, but I will give them credit that it was the best steak I’d had in a while.  However, they brought me nonalcoholic beer.  I’m surprised that’s legal in Germany.

Thursday 12/19

I had a whole week to enjoy Berlin, so I gave myself one day to just enjoy the hotel amenities.  I have missed a few things while living in the Old Palace, and on the top of the list is a hot shower.  It gets warm, but it never gets hot, except for a few startling seconds now and then when it goes from burning to freezing. I will never underestimate the joy of a hot shower.  This is the first hotel I'd ever stayed in that had a wet and a dry sauna downstairs, and I decided to take full advantage of that fact.  There's not much to say about this day except that I napped in the recliner, I dipped in the pool, I soaked in the sauna, went back to the recliner to read my Kindle, returned to my nap, and repeated the process several times.  That's how a relaxing day goes by very quickly.

And let me just say that I love my Kindle.  I read "A Walk in the Woods" by Bill Bryson on this particular trip.  The man combines history and travel reporting in a way that hooks me in.   

Friday 12/20

I decided to start early this morning, actually setting an alarm for 7:00.  I booked an early bird ticket for the TV tower, yet again following Melanie’s advice.  It was €12.50, but it was worth the view.  There’s a rotating restaurant up there, and I decided to go ahead and get a light breakfast so I could sit down and enjoy the view for a while.  Hockey started at 5:00, so I dedicated the afternoon to museum island.  I went to four museums on one ticket, the National Gallery, the Neus Museum, the Pergamum museum, and the Bode Museum.  They all allowed photography, which was nice.  However, they were amazingly particular about my bag.  I couldn’t bring in water, which in itself isn’t unique, but I thought they just wanted me to empty the bottle.  I was wrong.  Even an empty bottle is bad, so they asked me to hide it.  All that seemed pointless, but I obeyed.  I didn’t get one room farther before another person asked me to shift my camera bag around to the front instead of on my side.  I’m sure there’s a reason, but it escaped me.  I found the German painters to be somewhat less talented than the rest of Europe, but the sculptors were quite good.  What I did like is that Germans seemed to like depicting real life, which is what I always liked about the Dutch as well.  In the Neus Museum, I saw the painted bust of Nefertiti, and I see why it’s famous.  It’s exquisite.  I was amazed at the fine detail and intact colors from so many thousands of years ago.  Talent is not a modern invention.  The Pergamum museum held a unique appeal, as I’d just been to Pergamum this summer.  They recreated the temple entrance completely inside, and I was struck by visualizing it where I was standing this summer.  Again, very impressive.  The museum also recreated the Ishtar Gate of Babylon, which was made of amazingly blue brick.  After museum hopping for several hours, I made my way down to O2 World for some hockey.  I saw about 4 periods in all, the last two of the first game and the first two of the last game, and had a wonderful time.  There was some seriously good hockey, and the refs were in complete control.  They threw around several misconduct penalties whenever players got out of control.  It kept the game moving quickly.  The fans were like soccer fans in that they were chanting constantly.  They never shut up, and they had a wide array of songs.  They even had drummers.  It was distracting.  I see the point in soccer, somewhat, because so little is happening they have to entertain themselves.  In hockey, it’s just a distraction.  The game moves too fast to keep singing.  One real highlight was that at intermission I could grab a bratwurst, a pretzel, and a Franziskaner.  Now that’s seriously good stuff for a sports game!  I also made sure to get a couple scarves, as that’s the traditional accessory for just about every sport in Europe. 

All told, I left the hotel at about 8:00 am and got back at about 10:30 pm.  I had a full day.

Saturday 12/21

I had one major sight left on my list, and that was the Olympic Park, which is way out on the Western edge of town.  I intended to take the U-bahn all the way there, but the train I was on stopped a few stops short.  It just gave me a chance to walk some more.  The approach to the stadium is quite beautiful, and I happened to arrive just before the one English tour all week was scheduled.  The tour was just for the stadium, but it covered the history of the whole complex.  It's one of the few big additions of the Nazi era that is still used and embraced.  Berlin was supposed to host in 1916, and they'd arranged grounds already, but those games never happened due to WWI.  The '36 games were awarded before the Nazis came to power, and it was actually ballsy for Hitler to spend a ton of money (this was the Depression, remember) on new grounds when old grounds already existed.  It turned out to be useful enough to still be around almost 80 years later.  It is also the first time I know of that the games were used for such explicitly political reasons, and ended up gaining huge significance beyond sports because of Jesse Owens ruining those political plans.  It set an interesting precedent.  The grounds eventually became the British headquarters during the occupation years.  It was nicely refurbished for the 2006 World Cup, and it nicely combines a historical presence with modern quality, much like the rest of Berlin.  

After touring around the grounds and taking pictures from the top of the bell tower, I left the park on foot to finally do some shopping at the Christmas markets.  Again, I followed Melanie's advice and headed to Schloss Charlottenburg for what was a great market.  I got a few gifts, some more Gluhwein, and some fresh mini donuts.  It was wonderful.  I encountered several sellers that spoke very little English, but a smile and some patience goes far.  They want to sell stuff as much as I want to buy it, after all.  

I spent some more time soaking in the spa, which was far more crowded than last time.  It also had several naked adults and two beautiful, bikini-clad Russians.  After trying to relax, but being a little defeated because of all the distractions, I finally decided to try going out on the town.  Berlin is a huge clubbing city, and I was keen to see if I might enjoy some real clubbing for the first time in a long time.  Wikivoyage and Melanie were my sources of information, and I found two or three that sounded interesting.  The kick was that everyone says the party doesn't start until midnight or later.  Luckily, Berlin is smart enough to keep the transit system running all night on the weekend.  Still, I stopped by two different places and wasn't tempted to stick around either one.  The party still wasn't going even at 12:45, and I didn't feel the energy to keep searching for a party after walking around all day.  So, satisfied that I'd given it a shot, I called it a night.  With the right group, though, I could easily see myself dancing the night away in Berlin.

Sunday 12/22

For my last day, I was happy to see that I'd pretty well covered everything I wanted to do.  I headed over to Checkpoint Charlie, which I'd actually seen once before, but I wanted to see if any of the kitschy shops nearby would have anything tempting.  They didn't.  I walked around Postdamer Platz and the Sony Center to see if I was tempted by activities or movies.  I wasn't.  I went for a walk along Unter den Linden away from the Brandenburg gate, mostly because Melanie had told me there was an incredible car on display there.  I didn't find it, but I did go into the Mercedes shop to gawk a little.  There was a big VW building that was closed and covered, so perhaps the cool car was supposed to be there.  I followed some pretty lights over to a pretty building, which turned out to be a war memorial/tomb of the unknown soldier.  It was really just a somber looking statue of what looked like a refugee and her child.  It's a beautiful and somber memorial.  Next door was the German history museum.  So, I headed in and ended up spending 3 hours in there.  It wasn't the greatest museum ever, but the topic was fascinating.  Germany has had such a complex history, and I didn't know too much about it beyond the past century.  I was kinda bored by the museum itself, but the topic kept me interested for hours.  By the end, it was 6:00, and I decided to head home.  I went out for one more German dinner, as there was a Bavarian restaurant just down the street.  The beer was good, but the pretzel and schnitzel were just okay.  If there's one thing that really disappointed me about Berlin was the lack of truly great pretzels.  Maybe I just wasn't looking in the right places.

By the time I got back to the hotel, I realized NFL games were on.  I had to pay 15 Euro for the internet, but I felt like chilling for my last few hours watching football.  The Steelers had the late game, and it was nearly 1:00 am when I saw a horrible call against them in the 3rd Quarter.  I went to bed, needing to get up in a few hours for my flight.  I ended up missing a very entertaining end of the game.  Let that be a lesson to me.  Steelers first.  Sleep second.  At least when I don't have to work in the morning.

The new and the not so new

King's Ely is unlike any school I've ever been a part of.  I spent 13 as a student at Cornell Elementary and High School, 4 years as a student at IUP, 3 years teaching at Leonardtown High School, and 10 years teaching at Northern High School.  Every single one of them was a public school (a state school, as it's known in the UK), mostly for working and middle class families.  King's Ely is a private English boarding school, so the differences are numerous. I have only started to understand the workings of this school, but here are the things which stand out to me:

New:

My classes are scattered around the week.  I see each set of kids 3 times a week, except for Year 9's whom I see 3 times every 2 weeks.  No two days are the same.  Some days are jam packed with lessons, and some days have long breaks in between lessons.  I've been used to having the same schedule every day.  I'm not quite used this new situation.  I have to check my planner constantly to see what I'm teaching next.  

One advantage to this situation is that students get to take many more courses.  I've been used to students taking 6 or 7 classes.  Here, students take perhaps 12.  It really impresses me how most students are able to keep abreast of work in so many subjects. 

It does lead to another new thing, which is having set amounts of homework (an hour's worth, say) I'm permitted to assign, as well as set days on which I can assign it.  It's somewhat necessary to keep students from being overloaded, though I do find it burdensome sometimes.  If homework takes longer than anticipated, or it is just a little bit that needs to be done on an off day, I can expect some resistance. 

Grades are not given to everyone at the same time.  They are given to each year group at different points in the term.  Every student has a baseline grade, which is a low-end prediction of what they should score on the national exam.  Baselines are set by the school, and not by me.  However, I give attainment grades rating their work thus far.  If the attainment grades differ greatly from the baseline grades, then I can expect questions as to why.  

I also write reports on the work of every single student.  Unlike US students that just get a report card each quarter, King's Ely students receive a full paragraph or so from every teacher.  It is certainly a time consuming process, which is probably why they stagger the report dates for different year groups.

Students all take national tests called GCSE's at the end of Year 11 (equivalent of 10th grade in the USA).  Tests are given for every single subject they take.  So, I teach a GCSE curriculum of physics, which is split up over 3 years.  Students will take a science curriculum involving biology, chemistry, and physics, but unlike the USA they take them concurrently every year.  Instead of taking one course a year for three years, they take all three courses for three years, but they only learn a bit of the curriculum each year.  As a result, everyone takes all three classes.  In the USA, only biology is generally tested at the state level, so everyone takes bio, fewer take chem, and the fewest reach physics.  

Students in every year group are split up into sets, arranged by ability from 1 to 5.  These sets are also coordinated among subjects.  All the sciences and maths go together, so if a student is in set 1 for biology, he/she is also in set 1 for chemistry, physics, and math.  They all have the same curriculum, as it is set at the national level.  In the USA, we have names like "honors," "academic," and "general" level, though that varies by school, and they are unique to each subject.  A student can be in honors biology and academic geometry.  Students are grouped by ability anywhere you go.  They just give it a different name here.  However, since the USA has no set national curriculum, the ability groups usually learn slightly different material depending on what class they're in.

Students are all assigned to a tutor, grouped by house and year group.  I am the tutor for the Year 12 boys in Hereward House.  As such, I keep an eye on their grades and behavior, discuss plans of improvement with them when necessary, and stay in contact with their teachers regarding their progress.  I've seen no system like this before, and I think it has a lot of advantages for the students.

The students have a morning meeting every day, two cathedral services, two tutor meetings, and one school assembly.  At NHS, first period would be full of announcements, official attendance, the pledge of allegiance, and anything else that needed to be done.  Full school assemblies were rare.  Here, lesson time is devoted to nothing but lessons, which is very nice.

However, the timing of the lessons is surprisingly inexact.  All lessons are 50 minutes long, but there is no set transition time between lessons, no matter how far students must go to get to the next lesson.  For instance, Lesson 1 is from 9:10-10:00 and Lesson 2 is from 10:00-10:50.  There's obviously no way that the next lesson can begin exactly when the previous lesson is over.  If teachers go over their lesson time (the bells aren't always reliable), it really delays the students getting to the next lesson.  So, I have to be really flexible on what I consider tardy.  I generally always have been, anyways, so this isn't a big change.

Students at King's Ely are incredibly active, partly because they are all required to do sports.  Lessons on Tuesdays and Thursdays end at lunch, and from 2:00-4:00 students must do athletics.  There are a variety of sports, but they are split by term.  This past term, boys did rugby and girls did field hockey.  Some kids did rowing as well.  That's it.  If you don't care for those sports (and there are plenty who don't), then tough luck.

Teachers must participate in sports as well, and I was assigned to assist with one of the Year 10 rugby teams.  On the bright side, it really does emphasize that the school is trying to do more than just get kids to pass exams.  They want students to experience a little bit of everything, and sports are a big part of that.  The school wants teachers to interact with students in many different ways, as a classroom teacher, as a coach, as a tutor, etc.  We are taking care of these kids, and we need to see them in as many ways as we can.  The only down side is that there can be a bit of confusion about what the duties involve.  I asked questions about every duty in my first couple weeks, but only in sports was I continually asking questions throughout the term.  It's the only area which was completely new to me.  I'd never coached a sport before.

Beyond that, there are myriad activities including chorus, band, theater, and ely scheme (outdoor adventures).  In the last couple weeks of term, I saw some students perform in every single one of them.  It really dumbfounded me how much time it must take in order to prepare for so many activities.  The students at King's Ely are some of the most active and engaged students I've ever seen.

Not so new:

One thing seems to make school administrators happier than anything.  Meetings.  We have a lot of them here.

Students still have many creative excuses for why they couldn't do their homework.

Asking questions in class still is the most useful skill that students are most afraid of mastering.

The key to good teaching remains the same.  It all starts with making sure the students and parents know that you care.  The next step is to show students that they can succeed.  Everything else is just details.

In any profession, colleagues share a special bond, and I don't think there are many jobs in the world that don't involve grabbing drinks at the end of the week.  However, I've always had a difficult time finding a social balance with my colleagues.  It's no different here.


So, the new definitely outweighs the familiar, which is no surprise.  I am learning a lot, that's for sure.

The first student I won over in England

I have 150+ students.  Some could learn the material regardless of the teacher, and some would refuse to learn it regardless of the teacher.  The students I look for to remind me that I'm actually good at what I do are the students that don't think they're good at it but are willing to try.  If I get one of them to really understand a tough concept and to believe they can understand more, I feel like a true teacher.  About 4 weeks into my new job teaching physics at Kings Ely, I finally had that feeling. And darn it, I worked for it.

In my Year 11 classes, we're studying nuclear radiation.  It can be confusing stuff, which is why it's so easy for comic book writers to say super powers come from radiation.  Somehow, it seems logical because most people don't really get what radiation is and does anyway.  Radiation really just means anything radiating outward from a central point. All light is radiation.  Nuclear radiation is the light or small particles that are emitted with lots of energy, either kinetic energy (meaning they're moving very fast) or electromagnetic energy, from an atomic nucleus.  Because of all that energy, when radiation hits another atom, it tends to do "damage" by knocking electrons off and charging the atom.  That ionization can damage living cells, which is why we generally care about it.  I was trying to explain the natures of the three different types of radiation (alpha, beta, and gamma) and their respective abilities to ionize atoms, and I was getting the impression that I was doing a poor job of it.  

One girl, who I shall not name because that's kinda rude, was obviously not getting it, and she asked if she could go over the homework with me.  At NHS, I would have just said to stop by during lunch, but that's not really practical here.  I was sort of at a loss as to when to do this, and she asked when I had tutoring duty in one of the houses, and if she could stop by.  I told her Thursday evening in Hereward, and sure.  I honestly had no idea if this was okay, but I didn't see how it could hurt tutoring one student of mine while still being available for my boarding boys.  I have duty for 4 hours, and she was there for 3.  I helped my boys when they stopped by and needed help, and the rest of the time I tried everything I could to explain the differences between alpha, beta, and gamma radiation.  Bless that girl for not giving up.  As we progressed, she explained that English is actually her second language.  I honestly had no idea, which makes me think I don't know British accents that well.  The girl is from Eastern Europe, and she speaks Czech at home while speaking English at school.  I realized that she's had to deal with unfamiliar terms as well as difficult concepts.  Beyond that, she was doing it without complaint.  I really started to respect this girl, and I was determined to find the example that would make this all click.  

Through some random series of connections that made sense in that conversation and no other, I asked her to picture a rave.  Yes, a rave. Glow sticks and everything.  It's a massive, crowded rave full of people high on E and completely unaware of what's going on around them.  She is on one side of the crowd (and not high on E, because that's bad). On the other side of the crowd are two dangerous things, a horse galloping toward the crowd and a wasp that she's allergic to.  That horse is alpha radiation.  The wasp is beta radiation.  The horse, when it hits the crowd, is likely to do a lot of damage to the first people it encounters, because it's really big.  However, it's unlikely to make it all the way through the crowd and get to her, also because it's really big and will lose its momentum after those initial collisions. The wasp is much smaller, so it's likely to be able to get right through the crowd and sting her.  It's certainly no guarantee, but it's possible, and if it does sting her, she will not like it (remember, she's allergic).  So, alpha is the horse.  It's big and does lots of damage (ionization), but it won't get far.  Beta is the wasp.  It's small and won't ionize things as easily, but it will penetrate through things pretty well.  Gamma doesn't fit into this particular example, so I didn't force it.

The light bulb went on over her head.  I saw that look of comprehension, and she smiled.  Somehow, this oddball scenario I'd made up off the top of my head made it click.  She was so incredibly happy to finally get it that she went home and explained it to her mother. She still says, "Okay, alpha is the horse and beta is the wasp, so . . ." when explaining to me different properties of radiation.  She's shown up to every tutor night since, and she's brought classmates.  She's a believer now, and so am I.  She believes that she can successfully understand physics, and I believe that I can successfully teach it.  She is the kind of student that makes me love being a teacher.

Changing where you are doesn't change who you are

Angel once told me "Good times are easy.  Anyone can get through good times.  If you can get through bad times together, you can last."  She was talking about marriage, but I've thought about her wisdom a lot with regard to settling into a new home.  When everything is new, it's exciting.  It's fun discovering new things and meeting new people.  But eventually, you're going to get stressed, and I did.  That stress, however, helped me see just how good the people are around me and how wonderful this place can be at providing ways to destress.

I'm no longer a visitor.  I live here.  When I'm traveling, I rarely stay in one place for more than a few days.  I just love exploring, soaking in everything that's new, and moving on to see somewhere else.  For a while I still felt like a visitor.  I soaked in the new job, the new living space, the new friends, the beautiful accents, the different food, the unique sports, the ancient buildings, and even the novelty of being able to get anywhere I need by foot or rail.  Eventually, that novelty wears off and I started settling into a routine.  I started making routines, really.  I settled into routines for work, for meals, for extra duties, for exercise, and even for regular pub nights.  I found myself gravitating to the old routines and habits I had back in Maryland, but they don't always fit.  My lessons schedules aren't organized the same, my homework policy can't translate easily, my meals have to coincide with times I'm not used to eating, and my social time doesn't involve football anymore.  All of the sudden, the differences that excited me at first were stressing me out.  I miss the courses I could plan in my sleep.  I miss the students that already knew what to expect from me.  I miss Sundays at the Billy Bar.

I miss a lot of things, but I didn't move to England to rebuild the exact same life I had.  I have the unique opportunity to remake my life from the ground up.  I get to choose what routines I really like and what new ones I've been meaning to try.  I can change a lot of little things, and I can even change big things.   Moving to a new country has dispelled all doubts I had that big changes are possible.  All of the sudden, everything is in play.  That was an invigorating realization, but now I'm analyzing every little aspect of my life.  Every time I came across something in my life that made me mildly unhappy, the old honors college mantra of "What, therefore, shall I do?" took over my brain.  My mind got caught in a feedback loop with way too much thinking going on.  I'm not great company when that happens, because I am always thinking about the unhappy things.  It's like a carpenter examining a really complex piece of woodwork.  He/she doesn't focus on the parts that are fine.  They're fine, so move on.  He/she focuses on what needs to be sanded, braced, tightened, etc.  The focus goes on what needs to be fixed or improved.  That's what happens in my head.  I want to make myself into a better man, so I look at what I think needs to be fixed or improved.  It can be productive, but it can also be depressing.  Like an artist that never wants you to see what he/she's painting ("No, it's not done!"), I go into isolation ("No, don't look at me, I'm not done!").  My new friends pried me out of my isolation and helped me see all the good work that I've done over the years.  I really needed that.

Sometimes, it's difficult to figure out who you are when you're surrounded by who you were.  I've said this before, but now I've got an addendum.  Changing where you are doesn't change who you are.  As the wise Popeye says, "I am what I am, and that's all that I am."  But the beauty of moving is that it's helping me to see more clearly who I am and who I want to be.  I've been able to make a huge, positive change in my life, and opening that door has made me see there are far more possibilities in life than I had realized.  It's given me a lot to think about, as you can see.

I think best when I'm walking, and I live in a flat area with miles of paths stretching out into farmland.  Feel the burn.

Thoughts from my first few weeks of teaching

The last time I felt this bombarded by new experiences, I was an 18 year old freshman at IUP.  That year was perhaps the best of my life.  This year is starting out with much the same appeal, except that I have more responsibilities and more money.  Oddly enough, I'm drinking more, too.

I am surrounded by good people.  They are supportive, intelligent, friendly, and amazingly good looking.  I'm also surrounded by a wide array of accents.  Cambridgeshire, Lincolnshire, London, Yorkshire, Scottish, Irish, Welsh, German, Australian, Spanish, Russian, Italian, and probably a few I haven't identified.  I'm still in the stage of enjoying just listening to everyone talk.

I have a symbiotic relationship with a fellow traveler, Nadia.  She's an Australian that's climbed Kilimanjaro before and completed three triathlons this month.  If I'm ever picked for Survivor, she's going to be my coach.  I've been teaching longer, but she's been in the UK longer.  I feed her ideas for handling mountains of grading, and she helps me look like I'm learning local customs faster than normal.  It's a win-win.

I have my lunch buddies and drinking buddies already.  Nick the Actor, Kathi the German, Theo the Librarian, and Alison the Biologist.  We are the start of a corny joke, but we haven't figured out the punchline yet.  We all just went looking for fellow beer drinkers, and it turns out that we're actually quite fine company.

Even though I've changed countries, kids are kids, and physics is physics.  I can always fall back on that.

I've already been observed twice in class, and luckily, both of those lessons were interesting ones.

Some of my kids must already like me, because I've had three random compliments from colleagues.  Theo the Librarian saw students talking excitedly about The Long Walk, a Stephen King book I'd mentioned in class while teaching about measuring walking speed.  Nadia the Adventurer took her tutees (each teacher has a group of students to care for) to the river and came back to tell me that a few were talking excitedly about my "What's in the box?" activity.  A father, who shall remain nameless until I remember it, said his daughter Zoe thinks I'm "cool."  I've still got it.

I help take care of boarding students in Hereward House.  One night a week, I help the House Master take roll, make announcements, enforce homework (called "prep") time, and put the young ones to bed.  Along the way, I chat with the kids.  Two of them actually lived in Southern Maryland, believe it or not.  Their parents are in the RAF and were stationed at PAX Naval Air Base for a couple years.  Small freaking world.

I coach rugby with a fellow science teacher named Gary.  He's never played the sport, and I've never even seen it.  Oddly enough, our team has not won yet.

Kids made fun of the NFL by saying pads are for wimps.  I said the true test of manliness is falling to the ground and grabbing your knee.  They laughed and conceded that point.

I have a physics technician that organizes, sets up, and tears down all the lab equipment.  I simply put in requests at the beginning of the week, and he sorts everything out, even staying in the room to make sure everything works well.  I don't need any time to consider my judgement here.  This is a far better way of working in a physics department.  I think I give him an odd smile because I thank him so much.

The food is actually quite good, and my lunch buddies are intelligent enough to choose the locale based on the quality of the cakes.  I have finally learned what Yorkshire pudding is, and it is a rare meal that is not offered with beans.  But the beans are in a tomato-y sauce rather than a barbecue-y sauce.  I'm not used to the taste.  It makes me think, "When have I ever been eating ketchup and wishing that beans were in it?"

There are several Australian "gap year" students that take a year off between high school and college to work in the UK.  They mostly work with the PE department, coaching sports, lifeguarding, and supervising activities.  Lorenna the Gappie had to race off to London to cast her vote at the Australian Embassy, as voting is required by law.  She would have been fined otherwise.  That's how you enforce democracy, folks.  In Australia, the school year is the calendar year.  That would avoid so much confusion.

Every pub serves mostly cask ales, and most pubs are actually owned by a brewer.  If you see "Greene King" on the front of the pub, only that brewers ales are sold there.  There's a local brew pub with a huge selection of cask ales and ciders.  It's a converted antique store, so there's just a register and no room for taps.  You place your order, the barkeep runs out back to where the casks are stored, and returns with your beer.  And it's gooooooood!

I signed up for the NFL streaming package (you can do that in the UK!) only to see the Steelers play the worst football since the mud bowl.  However, Theo the Librarian, Kathi the German, and Nadia the Adventurer all stopped by to watch a little of the game and wave the terrible towel.  I played them the Pennsylvania Polka, and they thought it was hilarious.

Two of my best pairs of shoes literally fell apart after making the long trip across the Atlantic.  My new shoes are so shiny, it looks a bit like I'd never dressed up before moving to the UK.

Amazon.co.uk is amazing.  There are very few items that won't ship for free, and mostly they come within 2 days.  These are the things that are possible when the country is about the size of New Jersey.

Everything I say and do is liable to be treated as representative of all Americans.  It's an awesome responsibility.

In all documents, school personnel are referred to by initials.  My initials, JLS, are also apparently the name of a boy band.

The old college tactic of propping my door open and playing music while I work still attracts company as people wander down the hall.

People like overemphasizing their r's when they're winding me up over my accent.  The corny joke crew likes saying "Mesta Sniiiiida" in their best Southern drawl.  It's endearing.  When I try doing a British accent, my voice seems to wander from country to country randomly.

My corny joke crew has bonded over movie references.  Theo the Librarian makes Three Amigos jokes with me.  Nick the Actor does a spot-on Galdalf.  Kathi the German has a thing for Vin Diesel and Disney films.  These folks really do make me smile.

Alison the Bio teacher and Ned the Head of Physics both competed on the UK national rowing team.  Ned the Head was ranked highly in the world at one time.  I am around very interesting people.

Ned the Head takes good care of me.  He's good at telling me what I need to do, what I can do when I have time, and what I can and should say "no" to if anyone asks.  He's a fantastic physics teacher from whom I expect to learn quite a bit.

I have a physics department.  I love having a physics department.  There's a third teacher, David, from whom I have been stealing every resource I can get.  Not many of the sheets and quizzes I've made over the years are applicable here so far, and my job would be far more difficult if I didn't have two veterans from whom to borrow materials.

Planning and grading takes much longer right now than it has in years.  It really does feel like my first year teaching all over again, in some ways.  On the other hand, I know what I'm good at, I am confident enough to tell people what I cannot be expected to do yet, and I am humble enough to ask for help on the many occasions when I need it.  It's stressful, but I know I'll get through it this time, and that makes all the difference.

I really do miss my NHS kids.  There was no way to avoid that.  I'm getting to know a whole new group of kids that I will love and help every bit as much, but I can't help but miss people like Max, Danny, Amanda, Helen, Maddie & Monica (you go together as a set), Kayla, Tassia, Mary & Jana (you two are paired in my mind) , all my costume girls, Erin, Cierra, Jeffrey, Grace & Becca, and so many more.  It will nag me all year.  I was so lucky to know them, and it's harder now to let them know how proud I am of them.  A little mention in a blog post is at least something to let them know I think of them.

My kids over here all call me "Sir," wear uniforms, wait at the door until I let them in, don't move at the bell until I dismiss them, and thank me for the lesson at the end of class.  They are all highly amused when I say "Class dismissed!" Apparently, it's an American cliche.  They also ask incredibly interesting questions.  The lessons over here are geared more toward discussion-style, and that plays right to my strengths.  Then again, it's easy to get behind, because I cannot resist random tangents.

Wednesdays are my favorite days now.  I teach only two lessons and I have no evening duties.  My corny joke crew likes to go to the pub on Wednesdays, and I've gotten them to say "Hump Day!" like the camel in the Geico commercial.  If I have to work on Saturdays, at least I get one relatively easy day in the middle of the week.

Oh, and Stephen Hawking's coming to Ely tomorrow.  Go ahead and be jealous.

I am always nervous when school starts

Tomorrow morning, I will have my first day with students for the 14th time, and I have been a ball of nerves every single time.  It doesn't matter that last year I was a veteran of the school and now I am a rookie.  I was every bit as nervous last year as I am now.  That's one reason why teaching is a wonderful profession, at least for me.  It never gets dull, because I'm hitting the reset button every year.  Will I be able to connect with this year's kids as well or better than last year?  Will I be able to communicate physics as well or better than last year?  I ask myself that every year.  This year, I'm also asking questions like "Where are the bathrooms in the physics building?" and "Will I trip on my gown in the cathedral?"  Yes, I had to buy a graduation-style gown for the several times I will need it this year.  I just got the basic model, though there are myriad styles depending on where you went, what you studied, and what degree you earned.  When I tried on the gown at the Cambridge robe-maker shop, the girl asked me, "Will you be needing a hood?"  I replied, "No, but do you have any wands?"  One of us thought it was funny.

The first day of school feels like opening night of a play.  No matter how prepared you are, you always feel nervous.  It's a good thing.  Nerves keep you sharp.  They help you focus.  The only time I really get worried is when I don't know what I'm doing.  To avoid that, I just prepare for everything I can control.  I have asked everyone I can to walk me through the first day or week in detail regarding what they need from me.  I overly detailed my calendar just to make me feel comfortable.
6:30 wake
7:45 breakfast
8:15 meet my tutor group at their boarding house
8:30 take my tutor group to get registered and pick up their timetables
8:45 take my tutor group to my classroom to get to know them a bit
9:15 take my tutor group back to their boarding house
10:00 opening of term ceremony in Ely Cathedral
10:45 meet the rugby coach in the common room for a chat
11:15-12:05 Lesson 1--Year 10 GCSE level physics (motion)
1:00 Lunch
2:55-3:45 Lesson 2--Year 11 GCSE level physics (atomic structure)
4:30 go for a run
6:00 dinner

I have a very busy morning, but only two lessons, so I lucked out a bit.  There is a system for taking attendance I have to figure out, as well as a system for recording book numbers.  If I really get confused, my department head is right next door.  That's very convenient.

So, I spent all day yesterday and today planning lessons, reworking powerpoints, retyping my class rules, fiddling with the equipment in my classroom, and pacing a lot.  Of course, I thought "Why didn't I start doing this earlier?"  But I say that every year, so it was actually a little calming.  My tried and true method goes like this:
1. Enjoy the summer (i.e. do nothing productive).
2. As the start of school approaches, remind myself I better enjoy the summer while I can.
3. The day before teacher meetings, go out for several beers.
4. A couple days before students return, freak out because I've been doing nothing productive.
5. Stop freaking out by realizing I just need to plan my first week.
6. Plan  and organize obsessively, feel great about being productive, and ask myself several times why I didn't start working earlier.
7. Repeat procedures in a condensed form every weekend.

One of the reasons the first year or two of teaching is so difficult is because we don't yet realize this anxiety is part of the job.  We assume it's our fault because we're not good enough, that better teachers don't get nervous like this.  In truth, the ones that don't get nervous often are the ones that just don't care anymore.  Personally, I am very nervous, and that's a good thing.

New is fun, and new can be scary

Today was actually my first day of school.  The kids come back on Monday, September 2, which is a week early by British standards.  The school calendar is a bit different than I'm used to.  Everything about the school system is very different than I'm used to.  I am learning new terms, new procedures, new traditions, and new methods of educating.

Some new terms: set = group of kids I teach, register kids = take attendance, marks = points or grades, prep = homework, maths = math (I have a hard time with that one), independent school = private school, state school = public school (they say public and private, but it doesn't refer to funding at all, so I'm still confused there), grammar school = magnet school.  

Some new procedures: Saturday is a school day, I assign homework via the school intranet, I do nearly every task online

Some new traditions: the hoop trundle (shown below) goes back to Henry VIII.  I'll know more when I see it happen.

It's a lot to take in. Luckily, I've got good teachers looking out for me. My first impression is the my head of department, Ned, is a brilliant teacher. I'm nervous, as anyone doing something really new generally is. Still, physics is physics, so once I get in the classroom I'll be fine.  Outside the classroom, though, all the little schedules, procedures, and expectations I've known are being relearned from the ground up in many ways.  

For example, I've been used to organizing everything by course (honors, AP B, AP Mechanics, etc.) and teaching people from several grade levels.  Here, everything is arranged by grade level, because the two courses (GCSE physics and A level physics) span multiple years.  Part of the GCSE curriculum is taught in year 9, some in year 10, and the rest in year 11.  At the end of year 11, they take a national exam.  Some of the kids take triple-award science, meaning I see them 3 times a week.  Others take double-award science, meaning I see them only twice a week.  I'm used to seeing all my kids every day, so this will take some adjustment.  Instead, I see more sets of kids.  I have 9 different classes, which is far more than I'm used to. Teachers here often give letter grades, but no points. At the end of a term, every student gets a full paragraph assessing his/her progress in addition to an overall letter grade. Much rides on the end of year exams and the national exams.  The exams have no multiple choice.  Multiple choice is a big thing in the USA, but not at all in the UK. I have certain times I am allowed to assign homework, as the students have specific times set aside for doing it.  However, if they don't turn it in, I can give them detention. 

Being a teacher here is a different experience in just about every imaginable way.  It's tough in some ways (I'll admit I miss the kids I know and the system I know), but it's really exciting at the same time.  This experience may allow me to grow as a teacher in ways I just couldn't without getting out of my comfort zone.  It may just force me to.  Nothing is familiar, so that's a bit scary, The knowledge that I'm facing that fear feels nice, though.

Tying my shoes was pretty confusing the first time dad showed me, too.  I'll get used to it.  

Tea solves awkwardness

"I have a tendency in life to make awkward situations even more awkward."--Mike Birbiglia

There are many reasons to love tea.  It seems to do whatever I need it to do.  It wakes me up when I need to wake up.  It calms me down when I need to calm down. Some teas can warm you up, and others can cool you down. One thing I have learned from the British is that tea fills awkward moments.  There doesn't seem to be a social situation in this country that couldn't involve tea.  It's not that they drink tea constantly, or that I've even been drinking it all that frequently here, but I am amazed at how well it facilitates conversation.

Last summer, I was at a post-exam party in London with two physics teachers (Alom and Ronan) and their A-level students.  I had found Alom literally by Googling "physics teacher London" to see what came up.  A few months later, I was helping set the table while he and Ronan prepared the food.  The minute I started to feel like I was crashing a private party, they brewed up some tea.  When you've shared tea, you're no longer a stranger.  The party involved lots of conversations all around, and after several hours, after we've exhausted our supply of conversation topics, the party wound down and the kids went home.  I figured it was time for me to go, as well, but then Ronan and Jane (his wife) bring in more tea.  The conversation flowed freely again.  There began my first friendships in what would a year later be my new home.

I applied this lesson to my classroom. I decided to put a coffee urn with just water and no coffee in the back of my room.  If my students wanted to bring in a mug and their own tea or instant coffee, I would supply the hot water and sugar, and they could always feel free to grab a cup.  It took very little effort on my part, but it relaxed several students immensely.  Before opening night of the winter student director showcase, I brought the stress balls that were my student directors and broke out the good British stuff, Whittard.  Soon enough, everyone was calmly sipping, casually talking, and naturally smiling.

But my best tea story happened in the middle of the night when four drunk girls I didn't know were on my couch.  Last year in Annapolis, at about 2am Saturday morning, I get a phone call from Jessy Sammons.  She tells me that she has been partying downtown with several friends from out of town.  She didn't drink too much, so she had gone home earlier.  Her friends, however, were more than a little drunk and needed a place to crash. Also, they needed to be picked up.  For Jessy, I do these things.  So, after talking with one of the girls, I headed downtown, was met with confused looks, reminded them that they called me, and drove them home. I'm sure there are men who have wonderful, charming things they can say when they bring home four beautiful women dressed to impress, but I am not one of those men.  All four of them sat on my couch giving me a look that beautifully combined "What now?" with "I hope you don't think there's an orgy in your future."  So, I put the kettle on and said "Would anyone like a cup of tea?  I have the good stuff from London."  To my surprise, everyone said yes.  Once I served the tea, I put out cookies from the Amish market, and that sealed the deal.  From that point on, conversation flowed freely.  Life stories were shared, jokes were told, and good times were had by all.  Everyone went to sleep with a smile.  All thanks to Whittard tea.

In the morning, I had to drive them back to their car.  It's 8:00, people are out jogging, and I'm walking out of my building surrounded by four beautiful women in evening wear.  As I take them to my car, one of my neighbors walking her dog stared at me as she passed.  As I started the car, I said, "Ladies, thank you for that moment.  I looked awesome just now."

Mazes, physics problems, and the direction of life

When you start a maze, no matter how large or complex, you don't wait until you can see the entire solution. You just find a place to begin, and you go.  If you hit a dead end, fine, backtrack a bit and try something else.  Eventually, you'll get there.

It seems natural when we do mazes.  Explaining that isn't usually necessary.  Physics problems work the same way, but my biggest challenge is often getting students to recognize that.  Students like knowing exactly what they're going to do the whole way from start to finish before they begin writing.  When they can't, they often freeze up.  They'll stare at the paper, waiting for it all to suddenly materialize like those hidden 3D pictures.  I've seen students start to get the shakes and tear up from the pressure.  A common conversation looks like this:
Student--"I don't know where to begin"
Me--"Where do I usually tell you to begin?"
Student--"The unknown"
Me--"Good.  Write it down."
Student--"Now what?"
Me--"What usually comes next?"
Student--"Givens"
Me--"Good.  Write them down."
Student--"I don't know what equation to use"
Me--"Where could you find ones that might work?"
Student--"The equation sheet"
Me--"Good. Find the best candidates."

And so on.  They almost always know where to start.  They ignore it, though, trying to work out all the steps in their heads.  Sometimes, my class is the first one that presents them with problems they can't see clearly all at once, and it's frustrating.  It takes practice to get used to writing down what you do know before you know where it's going to lead.  The ones that get a hang of it are the real learners. The point isn't to always know what the answer will be, or even if there will be one.  The point is to work the problem. It's really okay to mess up or get stuck along the way, but you have to be willing to start.

It's a useful lesson in many ways.  We don't know how relationships will progress, but we start them anyway.  We don't know how careers will progress, but we start them anyway.  I give the same advice to students when they fret over colleges and majors, thinking that they have to decide what they'll do with the rest of their lives.  I tell them not to think of it like that, but to just find a good place to start.  If you change your mind along the way, fine.  Sometimes changing your mind is a good way to make sure it still works.  It's a lesson I've had to remind myself because I've never been able to give good answers to questions about my future life plans.  I had to write something down for my high school and college graduations, though.  I looked up my high school year book, and I chose to say "Become a good teacher, get married, and jump into a volcano."  I am amused by my 17 year old mind.  My 21 year old mind said "Whatever I do, wherever I live, it will be because I can, not because I must."  I apparently learned a lot in college.  Several people have asked me exactly why I moved to Ely.  "It feels right" is all I can say.  Several people have asked me how long I plan to be here. "Hopefully as long as it still feels right" is all I can say.  The people that ask HOW I came to live in Ely get a much longer, more entertaining story.

Thoughts on comfort

I am a bit like a tree that has been dug up and replanted, except that I did the digging.  After pulling up my Maryland roots, I spent a good month exploring Turkey and London.  This week, finally, I started putting down roots in Ely.  I unpacked my boxes and started the process of making a home out of my room.  Basically, I made a mess.  I had one desk, one small wardrobe, and a couple drawers in my bed.  I tried organizing things, but I just didn't have enough places to put things.  I started to get frustrated looking at the mess that I had no idea how to fix as yet.  This is when the tougher reality of what I had done started to hit me for the first time.  Up until now, it had mostly been exciting things, "making my dreams come true" kind of things.  Now, I am a little embarrassed to admit that I really miss my couch. I miss my bed, I miss my TV, I miss my car, I miss my closets, I miss my desks, and I miss my apartment with the wall to wall windows. I miss my stuff.

It made me realize that I'd spent a lot of time and money on comfort.  Each one of those things feels like an investment in my comfort, and I just pitched all that comfort out the window.  Comfort and stability are wonderful things, and they're important.  From all the children I've taught, I've come to think that comfort and stability are some of the most important things they can have.  They can also be what holds us back from trying new, different, and risky things.

On the one hand, I'm proud I was able to walk away from a very comfortable situation to pursue something that feels right.  On the other hand, it will take a while to get comfortable again.  I know just where to start, though.  There are three areas that have the most impact on my comfort: my bed, my shoes, and my food.  Those are the big three.  I sleep a quarter of every day, ideally.  I am on my feet for much of the rest of everyday, and everyone has to eat.  My food will be covered soon enough, so no worries there.  I got myself one new pair of shoes yesterday, and I may get a second this weekend (I have a black pair and a brown pair, and I need a chestnut red pair).  I need to sort out my bed.  I brought over a comfy pillow, but my mattress itself is just a basic spring.  This simply will not do.  Somehow, I'm going to make this more comfortable.  Replacing it would be a waste of time, because they just don't seem to make really comfy single mattresses.

Sleep well.  Eat well.  Take care of your feet.  This is where a happy life begins.

We Americans have an interesting relationship with comfort. We are obsessed with convenience, and we're good at it.  I live in a dorm again, and though it has a kitchenette down the hall, I immediately thought "but there are 3 doors in between me and that room."  So, I went on Amazon to price out the old college staple, the microwave/refrigerator combo, just for curiosity.  I discovered that it doesn't exist in the UK.  They have small refrigerators, and they have small microwaves, but they've never combined them.  Our plugs are small and efficient while the UK plugs are massive. I've visited several houses, department stores, and furniture stores, and I have not seen one lazy boy recliner.  I also have come across very few establishments with a drive-through window.

I have a lot to learn from the UK culture, but I have a feeling they can learn a lot from us, as well.

The Schneider Multinational Corporation

Last week, with a lot of help from Tommy, I requested a wire transfer from my Bank of America account to my Barclays account.  The removal of that money from my Bank of America account was immediate.  The deposit into my Barclays account has not been.  It's funny how efficient they are at taking my money away versus giving it to me.  It's in electronic limbo.  Yesterday, I received an email from Bank of America saying that I needed to call them to give additional information regarding my wire transfer.  If I didn't contact them within 2 days, the wire transfer would be canceled, and they would "buy back" the currency they'd already converted to pounds.  The kicker is that they don't give me a stellar rate of exchange.  They convert my dollars to pounds at a rate of 1.6 dollars per pound, but they'd "buy back" the currency at a rate of 1.5 dollars per pound.  Since I am transferring half of my savings overseas, this would end up costing me about $440, plus the $35 they already charged me as a wire transfer fee.  The fact that they are allowed to give horrible rates of exchange in addition to charging fees should be illegal.  But, that's something to ponder at a later date.  Right now, they demanded I contact them.

Luckily, Tommy is an awesome brother who happened to be working from home.  So, we arranged to talk over Skype while he called this 800 number (which is not free for me from overseas).  We were on hold for about 15 minutes, so this really saved me money.  Plus, we got to chat for 15 minutes.  When someone answered the call, he was at first hesitant to deal with Tommy, since he was not the account holder.  However, I realized that I could hear the call just fine over Skype, and the guy could hear me just fine, so we sorted out the info right there.  It was a great way to avoid international fees, and the call was quite clear.  The man asked me to give him information that I am 100% certain I already put into the transfer request, but whatever, now he had it.  Then, he says he needs the information emailed to him.  Yes, the information I just gave to him would not be official until I emailed him.  He also wanted me to include my phone number in the UK on the email.

To sum up, Bank of America emailed me that I had to call them, and when I called them I was told I had to email them information or it wouldn't be official.  Plus, they said to email them my phone number in the UK so they could call to verify the information once they got it.

I sent the email.  I received a call to verify.

The complexity and redundancy of this system is matched by its expense and inconvenience.

Bank of America is a big company.  They have to deal with customers that get transferred overseas temporarily, whether for corporate, military, or government jobs and want to keep their accounts open.  Do they really have no set procedure for keeping these customers?  The whole point of dealing with Bank of America is the convenience that comes from their size.  Do rich people have to deal with this?  How do people have money all over the world and actually access it?

There are many multinational corporations, but no multinational banks as far as I know.  Interstate banking was a big deal when it came about in the US.  International banking is a more difficult proposition (currency and laws are different), but I can't imagine it's impossible.  Until that beast is born, though, I'll have to figure out how to streamline this transfer process.

My class schedule

Class schedules in the UK are quite different than those to which I've been accustomed.  Every single day is different within a two week cycle.  I will no longer be teaching a level (Honors, AP B, AP C) in which there is a mix of students from different grades.  Every class I  teach is a single year group, and students within the year group are arranged by ability into different sets.  So, on Monday, I start by teaching Year 11 set 2 during 1st period (in Physics lab 2, which is my room).  I also see them on Friday during 6th period and on Saturday during 3rd period.  It's scattered all over the place. But, at least I am the only teacher that sees them.  My year 12 sets are shared, meaning that they will see me for lessons on some days and other physics teachers on other days.  We split the curriculum among us, so I am only responsible for covering specific material.  It's easier that way than overlapping.  

Overall, I see 9 sets of kids for a total of 21 lessons in a week.  Apparently, that's normal.  I seriously have no way to judge.  A few teachers had asked me in the past few weeks how many lessons I teach, and I didn't know how to answer them.  My friend in London asked if I was happy with the number of lessons I was teaching, and I didn't know what was normal.  For 13 years, I taught the same schedule everyday, and that schedule was arranged by the type of course.  Last year, I taught 4 courses (AP Physics B, AP Physics C Mechanics, AP Physics C Electricity & Magnetism, and Pre-AP Phys/Chem).  I had one class of each AP and 2 classes of Pre-AP, giving me 5 total groups of kids to teach.  Now I essentially have 4 courses again (Year 9, Year 10, Year 11, and Year 12), but 9 total groups of kids to teach.  My smallest class, year 12 set AA, has 6 students.  My largest class, year 10 set 1, has 24 students.  Most of my classes have about 21 students.  

This will definitely take some getting used to.  

Banks and phones in the UK

This week, I started settling in Ely.  I started sorting out the little things we need to make our daily lives run smoothly, bank cards and phones.  First, I got a bank account at Barclays.  More importantly, I got a bank card.  It took a couple weeks and sorting out a mailing mix up (I discovered that my mail could be delivered to one of two locations at the school), but I finally got the card.  With that bank card, I could get a phone plan set up.  The phone companies needed proof I lived in the UK.  The only form of proof they accept is a bank card.  The fact that I have an account and had to provide a passport, visa, proof of address, and proof of employment to get the bank account was not enough for the phone companies.  I had to wait until I had the card.  But now I have a card.

My phone plan works basically the same way as the US, with minor differences.  I technically just pay for the SIM card, but I had to put down a £150 deposit for it because I have no credit history in the UK.  My plan is £21 a month for unlimited talk, unlimited text, and 1GB of data.  The UK has area codes like the USA, but they are not always three digits.  Apparently, anything starting "02" is London.  Most of the rest of the country starts with "01."  All mobile numbers start with "07."  "08" is a business number, and apparently not covered in my minutes.  "09" numbers are premium numbers like the ones you use to call into shows to vote.  Still £21 is pretty good.  For an extra £10, I get to call 3 numbers in the USA, plus I get a USA number people can call to get in touch with me without it costing anyone anything.

Banking is very different.  I am assigned different codes for every method of banking (phone, online, iPhone app). To log in with my computer, I have to insert my card into a little device called a PINsentry to get a unique one-use code.  It's different, but I'm getting used to it.  Transferring my funds from my Bank of America account to my new Barclays account has been far more difficult than I was led to believe it would be.  I can log into online banking just like I always did, but to do transfers like I need to do requires that they text me a one time use code to my phone.  However, they cannot text to foreign numbers, and there is no way around the texting system.  I asked BOA just how they deal with customers that move overseas but don't want to close their American accounts (like with temporary company or military transfers).  They had no answer.  So, I had to enlist my brother for some help.  I put his phone on my account, had them text him a code, and he forwarded the code to me.  It was a complex solution, but it got the job done.

"You know what the funniest thing about Europe is? It's the little differences.  I mean, they got the same shit over there that they got here, but over there it's just a little different."--Vincent Vega

Good-byes are sometimes easier than hellos

Before moving to the UK, I had a month full of farewell lunches, dinners, and bonfires.  Many were with friends and family with whom I knew it would be difficult to part.  Some were with friends with whom I hadn't spoken in far too long.  Honestly, it was a lot more enjoyable than you might expect.  It was sad, of course, but I got to remind everyone I love just how much I love them.  Sometimes it's easier to do that when saying good bye than when saying hello.

On a side note, we never actually say "Good bye."  I mean those actual words.  They sound way too final, and a little bit creepy.  We'll come close, with a "Bye" and a "Bye Bye," but that's generally it.  Maybe it's just me, but while I refer to saying "Good bye," I'm really lying because those words never come out.  "Take care" is my preferred farewell phrase.

Parting with family and my closest friends was, of course, the most difficult.  The truth is, I didn't do it just once.  I spoke with Mom and Dad every couple days, and Tommy nearly as often.  I saw Billy nearly everyday during that last week.  With the people that really love you, it's nearly impossible to say good bye, because they're always there helping every step of the way.  They never seemed to take my departure personally, and I am not sure they even knew how afraid I was that they would.  Billy, Jen, Bryan, Brittni, and Jessy (known in my head as Clan Sammons) shared meals with me multiple times in the days leading up to my departure, threw a party for me, offered every imaginable form of help in preparing my move, and it reminded me that I was really a part of two families.  I never came out and said I needed help or that I wanted to spend every possible minute with them that I could.  They just knew it and saved me from having to ask.

Sometimes, I keep very much to myself.  I forget to call home.  I forget to make time to see Billy and Jen.  I get too busy for a hello.  When it came time for a good bye, I couldn't say it enough.  Something is backward there.

It happened with many people.  I had forgotten to say hello to so many people until I needed to say good bye.  I had to see Shawn and Erica again, and not just because I knew Dogfish Head would be involved.  I had to see Angel again.  I had to see Betsy.  I had to see Jane.  I desperately wanted to see George, but timing didn't work out there.  I called up Tracy for the first time in years.  It reminded me just how many special and wonderful people I had in my life and just how easy it was to lose touch.  Maybe good byes are easier because you generally only have to do it once.  Hellos are open-ended.  However, these good byes were different, because they brought people back into my life that I dearly missed.  I guess that's one of the unexpected benefits of moving to another chapter in life.

Many former students found me as well.  If you remember Mr. Holland's Opus, you remember the final scene when all the students he inspired and helped came back at one time to remind him of what he'd done.  That scene is designed to make teachers cry uncontrollably.  I feel like I had a small version of that.  Every former student that contacted me, joined me for lunch, and even got me going away presents made me swell with ridiculous pride.  There were people that happened to be in town from Ohio, Wisconsin, San Diego, and Australia.  I have used the line "When you earn more money than me, you can buy the meal" many times, and now I had a couple that actually held me to it now that they were well employed.  I got to see people making a positive impact on the world all over the world, and they came back to tell me that I helped make that possible.  Some graduated 10 years ago, some this year, and a few came rushing back to my classroom the day after I announced my departure on Facebook.  One was in tears.  If I ever doubt for a second that I'm doing something worthwhile, I'm reminding myself of those lunches, those coffees, those tears.  I'll think of all those wonderful people who came back to say hello one more time before they had to say good bye.

Good byes don't have to suck.  They can actually bring people back into your life.  But they also remind you that you didn't have to wait this long to pick up the phone.

Good shows in London

The best part about being in London for two weeks is the chance to see shows.  I also checked out the London Triathlon and a couple blues bars, but the real entertainment to be had is on stage.  I've seen a good variety of shows lately, so I thought I might share what I've seen and what I thought of them.

Macbeth, by William Shakespeare
I've always enjoyed watching Shakespeare's plays live far more than reading them, and The Globe is an amazing place to watch them.  £5 is all it takes to get a ticket to stand in "the yard" right next to the stage.  The plays start with music and end with a dance.  It's quite a trip.  The intensity of emotion from Macbeth and Lady Macbeth were simply astonishing, and I even had the pleasure of seeing Billy Boyd (of Lord of the Rings and Master and Commander fame) as Banquo.  Really, there's no less expensive and more enjoyable way to spend an afternoon in London.

The Pirates of Penzance, by Gilbert & Sullivan
I've been curious for a long time to check out some of the works of Gilbert & Sullivan.  Their comic operas were really the first step toward modern musicals.  This one was hilarious.  If I were still directing musicals, I'd seriously consider doing this one.  There pirates that refuse to be ruthless, blundering cops, dancing ladies, sword fights, and a major general that brags about his smarts.  What's not to like?  The production I saw was actually just a community theater show, but even that was great.  There must be a ridiculous amount of talent here.

A Chorus Line, music by Marvin Hamlisch, lyrics by Edward Kleban and a book by James Kirkwood, Jr. and Nicholas Dante
I've been meaning to see this one for a long time.  I remember Mom enjoying the movie when I was young, but I didn't like musicals much then.  Honestly, I'm still more of a play man today.  This turned out to be one of my favorite musicals ever.  The story and characters were so much more interesting than most musicals, and the set up was amazingly simple.  It followed an audition for a Broadway show and basically just went right down the line introducing and exploring all the characters.  One part that truly wowed me was when the back wall became all mirrors (it did this periodically, as though in a real dance room) during a big solo.  It was like I could see the stage from the perspective of this star, and it was a chilling feeling to see the audience and the lights from that vantage point.  It was like putting an exclamation point on the statement of "This is why we want to be on stage so much."  Great show.

The Curious Incident About the Dog in the Nighttime, by Mark Haddon, adapted by Simon Stephens
This was a popular book, and the National Theater of London put on a production last year that won more Olivier Awards (British version of the Tony's) than any play before it.  The production grew beyond its home in the National Theater and moved to the West End, just like War Horse did.  The play is about a teenager with asperger's who tries to find out who killed a neighbor's dog.  It's a mystery, but told from a first person perspective.  It's also a technological extravaganza with lights and projectors doing a large amount of the work of setting up scenes.  The stage itself is one big square grid that looks like a holodeck.  In the end, they actually explain a mathematical solution in a way that makes me think I really need to step up my game in the classroom.

Private Lives, by Noel Coward
I'd actually seen this play before, but I had to see a British production.  Noel Coward is a master of banter in a distinctively English way.  There are only 5 people in the play, and it's really mainly about two of them.  Elyot and Amanda are old lovers who mistakenly meet on their 2nd honeymoons 5 years after they had divorced.  They are obviously still in love, and they bicker and flirt in the most adorable way.  This is a classic show from the 1930's, and to me, it's dialog is no less hilarious today.  The last time I saw this show was in Annapolis, so suffice is to say this was quite a step up.  It's amazing what money and incredible actors can do for a show.

The Mouse Trap, by Agatha Christie
This is the longest running play in West End history.  It's a basic whodunit in classic Agatha Christie style, set in a snowed in guest house in the English countryside.  I'd been thinking of doing a Christie play sometime, and this may very well have been the one.  It's a unit set (no scene changes), and the house has lots of hidden passages.  It's a great show all around, and after the final bows, the cast actually make a request that "Now you know who done it, and we ask you to keep that secret in your hearts."  It's worth keeping the secret, because they do a fantastic job of making you suspect everyone in the house.  Great show.

The Book of Mormon, by Matt Stone, Trey Parker, and Robert Lopez
I had to see this show, and it's damn near impossible in New York.  It's having just as much success in London, but I was able to get a ticket.  I spent more on this ticket than several other shows combined, but I did not feel even a little ripped off.  This show is brilliant.  Matt Stone and Trey Parker are the South Park guys, and if you know anything about their work, you know they write intelligently vulgar comedy.  They also incorporate music into their work anyway.  Robert Lopez wrote the music for Avenue Q, a South Park-esque parody of muppets.  These three made natural partners, and how can you not have fun writing songs about missionary work?  As much of a parody as it is, it is actually not as cruel as you might expect it to be.  Then again, I'm not Mormon, so I probably shouldn't make a judgement there.  Personally, I loved it, which surprises no one.  The music is amazing, the plot and characters are actually interesting, and the material is relevant.  I laughed harder than I've laughed at any musical since Little Shop of Horrors.

So, these are some of the kinds of shows I like.  These past two weeks in London, I've found myself wanting to see shows more than anything else.  So, I've been indulging.

My time in Turkey

Whenever I take a trip, I tend to keep a journal.  It's really the only time I do.  It's one of the only reasons I take my laptop with me.  I don't like the extra weight, but I need a full keyboard.  Before my next trip, though, I may buy a folding bluetooth keyboard for my iPhone.  We'll see.  

I usually keep these journals to myself, but since I don't get to share my stories in person with my close friends and family now, I thought it might be nice to change it up.  Pardon any mixing of tenses below.

I intended this trip to be part of an easy summer.  Last summer, I spent the entire time wandering the British and Irish countryside and I spent a good deal of money on my wanderings.  This EF Turkey convention was going to be my way of saving money, traveling for only 2 weeks in the summer, and relaxing the rest of the summer away at home.  Oh, how plans change.  As it is, this Turkey convention is now an interlude between the craziness of moving out of the USA and the craziness of moving into the UK.  Relaxation is a challenge, but . . . challenge accepted.

Istanbul (7/9 – 7/10)

Delta airlines is pretty subpar, but it got me to Istanbul.  I successfully packed all my stuff into carry-on luggage, and it reminded me again just how quickly and efficiently I can get off the plane and through customs.  In fact, I got through so quickly that the EF representatives weren’t ready to meet me.  I was slightly worried when I saw no EF sign, but I remained calm and patient, and they showed up in a few minutes.  It did make me realize I had been relying on EF completely for my travel plans and hadn’t prepared nearly as much for this trip as others.  Normally, I spend lots of time throughout the year researching stuff to do, booking tickets way in advance, and exploring Google Earth for fun routes to walk.  However, I spent all my time and energy sorting out my move.  I am justified there, but still, I’m not used to being a dependent traveler. 

I met Cristiano (EF staff from Lucerne), Melanie (EF Toronto), and Mehmet (Tour Director from here in Turkey) at the airport and transferred to the Titanic Hotel.  Seriously, it was called “The Titanic.”  Our arrivals were staggered, and I was in the first group to arrive, so we had several hours to kill.  I couldn’t sleep on the plane (I so rarely can), so I didn’t want to do too much.  I ended up wandering down a shopping street with a couple fantastic Canadian ladies named Tannia and Lisa.  I can’t help but meet Canadians on every trip I take, and my life is happier because of it.  They had already been in country a few days, so I hung out with the two while they were shopping (and I survived, chaps!).  Actually, I made an interesting discovery that the store hid their checkout counter downstairs.  Seriously, how many places have you ever been that you had to search for where to pay, and it was nowhere near the exit?  Afterwards, we had a Turkish tea and some Turkish delights before I headed back to the hotel for a shower and a nap. 

That evening, we had a dinner cruise on the Bosphorus.  Istanbul is a city straddling two continents (map), with the Bosphorus Strait running North-South and separating the European from the Asian part of the city.  At the North end of the straight is the Black Sea, and on the South end is the Sea of Marmara, which leads down to the Mediterranean.  Istanbul was established thousands of years ago as Byzantium (later Constantinople) to control this sea traffic bottleneck.  There’s also an inlet on the European side of the Bosphorus called “The Golden Horn” because it’s deep, calm, and easy to make into one of the world’s best ports.  Istanbul has always been important because of the water it controls, and it still is.  Cruising up and down the Bosphorus, I got to see bridges spanning two continents, old palaces that are now fancy hotels, lots of homes, and every type of boat imaginable.  Plus, I got to meet more people on the trip, though I was way too tired to be good conversation.  The food was great and came in wide variety, but what sticks in my head is that there were Pringles set out as appetizers.  I don’t know why that seemed noteworthy, but I did consume many a Pringle.

The next day, we had a full walking tour of Istanbul, which I found absolutely fascinating.  We toured Hagia Sophia, the Blue Mosque, the Basilica Cistern, and an old Ottoman Palace.  Hagia Sophia was, of course, my favorite.  It is huge, beautiful, and yet another testament to the engineering genius of the Romans.  So many major Roman sites are in ruins only because they were intentionally quarried or destroyed.  The Pantheon and Hagia Sophia show just what’s possible when the building remains in use.  For some reason, walking around Hagia Sophia (which means “holy wisdom”), I thought about Three Rivers Stadium.  It had nothing to do with the construction, but with the fact that the stadium was dismissed as a relic that was falling apart and needed to be replaced 30 years after it was built.  I started to think whether it was even possible anymore to build something that would still be standing 1500 years later.  Somehow, I think finances and impatience would derail any such grandiose ideas.  The Blue Mosque is the first mosque I ever entered, so I removed my shoes and hat and covered my legs to do so.  The women had to cover completely head to toe to enter, and it made me think of a quote from George Carlin, “What is this religious obsession with head gear?”  The building was impressive, though an intentional copy of Hagia Sophia, at least it looked that way.  In fact, all the large mosques of the city looked that way.  It made it quite difficult to tell them apart.  The Blue Mosque is quite plain on the outside, but it’s fantastically ornate inside.  I find that interesting.  The Basilica Cistern is another compliment to the Romans for their engineering capabilities.  It’s just a large place to store city water, but it’s so beautiful that it has been mistaken for a basilica. 

Hagia Sophia

Blue Mosque

Izmir (7/11)

This was a long day of traveling with a stop off in Troy.  Troy was incredible to walk around.  It’s the oldest city I’d ever explored, and certainly the most legendary.  Some of the oldest sections of the wall are mud brick, with straw coming out of it.  I hadn’t realized that the importance of Troy was that it controlled the entrance to the Dardanelles, which is the South link between the Sea of Marmara to the Mediterranean.  It’s all about geography.  The story of Helen is wonderful and romantic, but the Greeks did not need any other motivation than the control of the Dardanelles to attempt to conquer Troy.  Gallipoli is a place nearby that is the location of a major battle of World War 1, also fought to control that seaway that the Trojans once did.  It was one of the first major battles to involve troops from Australia and New Zealand.  They ultimately lost, but they fought so bravely that the opposing general (Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, founder of the modern country of Turkey) set up a memorial to those soldiers that is still there today.  On a lighter note, the Trojan horse from the movie “Troy” is also right there.  “Troy” wasn’t filmed in Turkey, but the producers decided to give the horse to Turkey as a gift.  That’s right, they gave it as a gift.  And the Turks took it. 

On a side note, we had a fabulous hotel, called Swissotel.  I felt quite pampered here.  EF made me feel quite important, and it does make me sad that I won’t be working with them in the near future.  I liked my long term plan of organizing student trips every year, traveling with my points in the summer, and eventually perhaps even getting to be a veteran like Steph Risius.  Life in Britain will give me plenty of opportunities to travel, but I do like taking students abroad.  It’s been one of my favorite things I’ve done as a teacher.

Kusadasi (7/12-7/13)

After our 2-hour conference involving some great discussion on how to improve EF, we drove a good deal more on 7/12, stopping to explore the ruins of Pergamum, which is perched on the top of a huge hill.  We actually had to take a cable car up to the top, which was a nice experience.  The ruins of Pergamum were more intact than Troy, and there are remains of a great Parthenon-like temple.  Being around such old stuff is always inspiring to me, and it’s making me realize just how historical and complex the relationship between Greeks and Persians/Turks is.  We got to Hotel Kumar in Kusadasi, which is a port city that attracts many huge cruise ships.  This has been my favorite hotel so far.  The room wasn’t nearly as fancy, but I had a balcony overlooking the Aegean Sea.  The views of the sunset from my room were spectacular.

Ephesus was even more intact than Pergamum, and it was far more crowded.  However, Mehmet is a great TD and got us there right as it opened to avoid the worst of the crowds.  The library of Ephesus was incredibly intact, and it made a great backdrop for our group shot.  The theatre was also quite intact, both from the Greek days and the later Roman days.  Later, we went to a carpet maker, which was interesting, but the first demo/sales pitch of the trip.  I can skip those.  Our lunch was in a great place that felt like just a large kitchen with a patio.  I discovered that Turkey does have decent beer, called Efes Dark.  I was getting tired of the pilsner.  Lastly, we did some wine tasting (I bought Bias), and we returned to the hotel to take full advantage of the facilities.

I went down to swim in the Aegean, but the saltiness and choppiness of the water made that dip a relatively short one.  I headed up to the pool to relax in the water (and oh, was it relaxing) and lounge in a chair.  I don’t normally take beach vacations.  Really, the only ones I’ve taken have been those with family.  I find exploring cities and wandering around to find beautiful vistas to be quite relaxing, but it’s nice to be reminded that lying down in the sun can be nice from time to time.  I have been doing plenty of exploring in Turkey, so I was quite ready for a break.  It reminds me of how relaxed I was taking a break from very long walks with my backpack by chilling on the beaches in Brighton and Nantucket.  Both times, I just needed to rest, and there is no better place to get rest than next to the ocean on a warm, sunny day.

Library of Ephesus

Pamukkale (7/14)

Pumakkale is a formation of natural travertines (pools) formed by spring water flowing over a hill, eroding some of it, evaporating, and leaving calcium deposits that turn the entire place bright white.  That part is gorgeous, but the water flow is far below what it used to be for some reason, and very few of the travertines are actually full of water.  It was a bit disappointing, as this was the sight I was looking most forward to seeing besides Hagia Sophia.  The national park there diverts the remaining water to each section in turn so it doesn’t degrade.  Still, I was able to find my rock.  I got a good chunk showing several layers of calcium deposits with the porous underlying rock as well.  It will make a good addition to my collection.

Our hotel was a step down from Kusadasi, but it was comfortable enough for me to sleep quite comfortably.  I missed out on the pool and massages that everyone is raving about, but apparently I was more tired than I thought and my body decided to shut down.  I had a wonderful dinner and drinks following.  I talked to a farmer from Saskatchewan named Ron who was very knowledgeable.  It was a fascinating talk about wheat, corn, canola, farm equipment, and Monsanto.  I also spoke with a couple from Manitoba named Grant and Kelly who are quite happy to have the Winnipeg Jets back, but they’re actually bigger NFL fans than anything.

Travertines of Pamukkale

Antalya (7/15)

We woke up at 7:00 on 7/15, and it really felt like sleeping in.  It’s fun how these tours put me right back into a school-year sleep schedule.  It was a long bus ride to Antalya, so we got there around lunchtime, and we had a seafood-heavy meal that everyone raved about.  As someone that really doesn’t like seafood, I must say I enjoyed the meal.  It wasn’t my favorite, but it’s nice to enjoy stuff I don’t normally enjoy.  The food has been pretty good on this tour, though I still see so clearly how unhealthy my general food choices are.  Still, I feel like having prepared meals, or even the buffet set ups we’ve generally had here, gets more variety onto my plate than normal.  I also think I’m eating less than normal.  I don’t have a scale to see if that’s the case, but it feels like it.

Upon checking into the hotel, a group of us went down to the hotel’s section of the beach.  Even though the hotel wasn’t on the water, it owned and operated a section of the beach.  Apparently, that’s how it worked with all the hotels there.  We took a hotel shuttle down to the beach, and I got a chance to swim in the Mediterranean for the first time in my life.  It was glorious water and a rocky beach.  I used to adore swimming as a kid, and every now and then (like when I’m in the Med on a sunny day), I remember just how great the water can be. 

When we got back, I received an email from EB Cargo asking me to fill out a form that would have been far easier to sort out before I started traveling.  Still, I was quite pleased by the business center at our Best Western.  I was able to print out the form (of course they didn’t have an electronic version), fill it out, take it to the front desk, and fax it away.  After all that was sorted, I went out for a drink in Old Town Antalya with a few folks.  I was tempted to keep to myself that night, but Abby Schiavello said to me that she received great advice before college to never turn down an invitation to anything social.  I need to take that advice more often.  I was afraid I would feel old and in the way of the younger folks, but I was pleasantly surprised.  Eventually, 6 of us found a spot by the water to grab a drink and share a shishum (a flavored thing that is smoked via a huge bong).  There are few places it doesn’t seem odd to have a gigantic bong in front of me, and Turkey is one of those places.  The conversation went very well, with smiles and laughs all around.  It’s a nice reminder to me that sometimes it’s well worth forcing myself to go out. 

Jack, Justin, and the shishum

Cappadocia (7/16-7/17)

Cappadocia is a beautiful region of inner Turkey that has absolutely stunning landscapes.  There are rock formations that look like sand dunes but are actually solidified volcanic ash.  Into these formations, people have carved homes, churches, and monasteries.  It’s difficult to tell how old they are, as aging a carving is not like aging other structures.  Some go back to the earliest civilizations, while others date to the first and second centuries AD when Christians were looking for a good place to hide out.  Some of them are actually still inhabited.  It’s fascinating.  The place looks like Tattooine.  The hotel was right next to some good hiking, and I partook happily.  The second day was a full one, with tours of the stone churches and dwellings in the morning, a tour of a pottery-making house in the afternoon (at which I was blown away by the beauty of the wine pots), a visit to a Hamam (Turkish bath) before dinner, and a whirling dervish and folk dancing show at night.  Besides my visit to Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque, this felt like the most classically Turkish day.  The Hamam was definitely worth a visit, but I’m not dying to visit it again.  It’s really a scrubbing down and bathing, but in a group setting with men and by men.  I found it interesting, but not really relaxing or even beneficial.  Still, when in Turkey, do as the Turks do. 

That night, some of us decided to enjoy a couple bottles of wine by the pool.  It ended up being one of my favorite memories of the trip.  The winos included: me (the supplier of one bottle) Barb (an ageless beauty of an art teacher that had the admirable quality of laughing at most of my jokes), Kelly (a beautiful social worker that hikes mountains, run/swims triathlons, and leaps tall buildings in a single bound.  Barb’s daughter.), and the aforementioned majestic Manitobans Grant and Kelly.  The hotel (actually called Tourist Hotel) posted a policy of confiscating any alcohol not purchased from the hotel bar.  So, we all channeled our inner teenager and found ways to sneak wine bottles, glasses, and openers down to the pool area after closing.  We succeeded, and killed both bottles under the stars.  There was much rejoicing.

Solidified ash with homes carved into the bottom

A rock apartment building

Istanbul (7/18)

Before heading back to Istanbul, we toured some interesting underground habitations that struck me as quite an interesting way to escape from one’s enemy.  There were large structures (pots, gates, etc.) that had to be made or carved while inside the city as there was no opening large enough to fit them through.  There were narrow passages ending in entrances that could be blocked by large, rolling stone gates.  Above the gates in the passages, there were holes through which spears could be thrust from above by the defenders.  It was quite ingenious.  I’m not sure how long they could survive down there, or how difficult it was to block off all the town’s air vents, but it was certainly the most well-defended cave I’ve ever seen.

With our last day in Istanbul, we made it down to the Spice Market, which is to say I walked through, got annoyed with salesmen again, and sat outside reading my Kindle and enjoying the view of New Mosque.  When we headed back to the hotel and had our farewell dinner.  Lots of good byes, lots of hugs, lots of exchanging of emails.  

Then, everyone went home, and I emigrated to England.