Yesterday Rachael's mom took me over to see the school for the first time. Ken, the very nice building manager (and quite a character, I could tell) along with adorable Christine, the "cleaning lady", gave me the tour of the wee little Catholic primary school. I got to see my classroom in which I deposited some stuff I brought from America. All at once my anxiety level dissipated a bit, just by meeting some nice people who work there and by being in the school. It seemed more real as I imagined the children's voices that would soon fill the corridors and classrooms of the now still school.
After having some lunch at a nice pub called The Swan, Rachael's mom had the brilliant idea of following bus #257 (for that is the line we figured I'd take) on its route to my school (at least part way before I would have to transfer to another bus). And so we did, laughing at ourselves all the way. We wanted to time it to see how long it would take for me to make my way in to work each morning. The bus winded its way in and out of charming little neighborhoods on tiny narrow streets and around impossibly tight corners before a car inserted itself between us and the bus . . . and we lost our prey. In thin air. How dare it not go straight down the predictable street on which we were traveling, but instead turn into yet another precarious neighborhood lane! Not to worry, Rachael's mom sort of figured out the general route of both the #257 and #1 bus lines, and she suggested we actually take a "dummy ride" on the bus route the following morning. Which we did.
Bright and early (well, not exactly bright--but early) this morning we caught the #257 bus a couple of blocks from my front door at 7:27 a.m. on the dot. It was actually not a bad experience. It was even a double-decker bus, so I can choose to sit topside when I'm in the mood for more of a view. I could imagine myself riding along every day, getting to know the "regulars" enough to say good morning, maybe with a coffee in my hand, maybe grading papers or reading. The #257 part of the route took about 30 minutes. Not bad. I was careful to take notice of landmarks along the way and calculate the exact time and place where I need to push the button that tells the busdriver to stop (with Rachael's mom's guidance, of course). I took notes. We reached the second leg of the route and crossed the road to catch the #1 bus. We only had to wait a few minutes. Not bad. That part of the journey took about 15 minutes, so all in all, the bus ride to school will take about 45 minutes. Not bad at all. I think I can handle this.
The final bus stop is actually right near the school, so we popped in to see Ken who offered us a cup of coffee. I found out that he makes cups of coffee or tea for all the teachers each morning. Reminds me of Fred, one of our dear Steele parents, a Brit himself, who delivers hot tea to each teacher every afternoon. I'm guessing that's an English thing, hospitality and a hot drink.
So, now that transportation to work had been sorted out (I would normally say "figured out", but here they say "sorted out"), another staff member, Eileen, who will be my T.A. (thank God!), came over and we went to lunch. As we drove through woodsy lanes to our destination, Eileen asked if I had my camera with me because I would need it. Luckily it was in my purse. I was intrigued. Finally we came to the most interesting little pub (lots of pubs here!) sort of out in the middle of nowhere. It was called The Crooked House. Now imagine a brick house that has had something heavy fall on top of it causing it to slant to one side like a crushed cardboard box. That is what the Crooked House looks like. From what I could gather, the dilapidated structure was shored up with some sort of engineering genius (or madness), but the integrity of the slant was maintained. It has slanted windows, slanted floors, slanted doors, the entire building slants! When I walked up to the front door, I felt as if I was slanting and found it difficult to keep my balance! The structure actually plays tricks with your head. When we were inside and seated, we watched with glee as other patrons made their way into the pub, walking unsteadily as if they'd had a pint or two already. A family came in, and one of their little boys stood in the middle of the room and shouted, "Can someone tell me what's going on here?!" After lunch we walked through a lovely park called Himley Park where families gathered and older people dressed all in white played croquet on the grounds of a huge estate turned into sort of an event center/museum.
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| One of the many canals in the area |
My fabulous day ended with an invitation from yet another teacher at the school who took me on a little nature walk and yet another pub. Again I found myself in sort of wooded countryside on a ribbon of country lane. We turned into a parking lot off the side of the road--nothing else around except for the pub across the road. Before we went to the pub, Jane suggested a walk along the canal. Again, I was intrigued. We were soon making our way along a path that followed a canal that flows through woods and wildflowers. There are apparently lots of such canals in the area that once carried cargos from village to village. In fact, there are boats that still carry coal to families that use coal to heat their homes. Along the canal are several locks that raise and lower the water levels to allow boats or barges (Jane, forgive me if I have some facts wrong) to pass through the beautiful arched brick overpasses. (When I can obtain a usb cord for my camera, I'll add photos.) Along the waterway house boats are moored that people either live in or use for holiday getaways. One such boat had a big barrel of flowers on its bow. I thought it was such an unusual place to see flowers that I had to snap a picture. The friendly owners of the boat came out, and we chatted. The man told us that actually it was bad luck to have flowers on your boat because that meant there was a corpse on board being taken to a funeral. He also told us some other interesting trivia about his boat and some folk sayings that I wish I had written down at the time. They invited us--remarkably--inside the long narrow boat for a peek. I had a walk-through. Didn't see any corpses.
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| canal barge |
After our lovely walk we headed back to the pub which sat right smack on the side of the road. We had our ginger beers on a picnic table in front of the pub watching cars and bicycles whiz by on the curvy country lane. As we got to know one another a little, I realized that I have met some very lovely people with whom I feel very comfortable. I'm going to enjoy working at this school . . . especially now that I know how to get there!
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