After an excruciating class with 4a, though, and a less-than-stellar class with 4c, I had class 3b/b — undoubtedly my favorite group in the whole school. I wrote on the board “respectful,” “hard-working,” and “polite” and had three students look these up. I told them, “There are some students and some classes who are not respectful, hard-working, or polite.” Some of them started to get big-eyed, like Ela and Dorota, but I continued, “But you are not one of them,” and they started to smile. “I would like to thank you for being such respectful, hard-working, and polite students.” I didn’t say it, but I wish I’d added something like, “You make me really love my job, and it’s because of classes like yours that I came back to Lipnica.”
Cross Country Skiing
XCG Thoughts
Last night I spent a lot of time on the internet, and I found a lot of information about the Philadelphia Church of God. I’d found most of it before, but I hadn’t read it. It is, indeed, a cult. It is almost reminiscent of Jim Jones or David Koresh in its horror. From the account of one Sue Hensley:
March 1993 — He compared what was happening in Waco Texas to the persecution that would happen to us. He told us the Branch Davidians were an example of the persecution coming upon us because they used many of the same terms we did. David Koresh talked about a “little book,” he said the “lion roars,” he said Christ was the “Key of David,” he claimed his predecessor was “Elijah,” and he preached about the “Millennium.” Mr. Flurry also brought up Jim Jones & the People’s Temple during his examples of the persecution to come, and he said Jonestown was their “place of safety.”
Regarding the “college” he’s building, Ms. Hensley wrote:
When the announcements were made in 2000 about the land that was being bought for the college, one of the tapes from headquarters told us a great deal of what was planned for the future of this land. They are putting in their own sewage treatment system, so that, if things reach a critical stage, all the members could stay on the property; they would be capable of handling over 7000 people on site. There was also an old airstrip in the property, which they thought could be refurbished and utilized to either “further the work” or to fly people out to the place of safety when the time came. The swimming pool (announcement made in 2001) is also to serve as an emergency water supply in case of fire or other needs. Even the first time I heard these things, it gave me a chill.
And lastly, regarding Flurry’s status:
He has also lately given the ministry some very strict rulings concerning what the ministers should do if a person in the congregation talks to them about something they think is wrong. Mr. Flurry has told the ministers that even if the person is right, they should never agree with the member because it would be disloyal to God’s Prophet.
I used to think that the PCG was just a silly bunch of neo-Armstrongites who were pissed because the WCG made all these changes. On the contrary — they are a full-blown, physically dangerous cult. The WCG was mentally dangerous. Spiritually abusive, even. But it never made statements like this. It never openly compared itself to the People’s Temple. And if Armstrong had been alive to see the Waco fiasco, I’m sure he wouldn’t have compared himself to Koresh. He would have said something ridiculous about it, no doubt, but I don’t think he would have drawn a direct parallel between the two organizations.
The reason is simple: I don’t think Armstrong really ever actually believed he and his group would “flee.” Why would they? That would mean giving up the luxurious lifestyle he’d grown so accustomed to. You can’t buy prosthetic dildos in the desert; Steuben crystal is fairly impractical in the desert; a Rolls Royce doesn’t take well to the desert. He never actually believed it. It was a good way to milk people of their money. Nothing more.
People like Jim Jones, David Koresh, and, apparently, Gerald Flurry, though, actually do believe the nonsense they’re teaching. And apparently, they’re all willing to die for it.
I’ve really got to get a handle on this obsession I’ve had for the WCG and all its splinter groups. It’s really just a waste of time, I know, but I can’t help it. I can’t bear the thought of something sensational happening in, say, the PCG and me not knowing about it. Why? I guess I just want to be able to watch the fallout as it happens.
Testing Blues
Today I just have two classes because D’s taking all of 4b to talk about Matura 2002. That means I have 3a and 4a. I really have no idea what I’ll do with 3a, but I guess I’ll just proceed with the silly business English lessons as per plan. I also have several people from 3b coming to consultation to take the make-up test. I haven’t prepared that test yet, either. I’m not going to do anything special, I think. In the end, I might just give them the same damn test. In fact, that’s exactly what I’ll do. Who cares anyway, right?
I’ve been thinking that regarding my testing. I’ve always been so anal about people not cheating, as if I’m somehow taking it personally that they’re cheating even though I tell them not to. As if it’s a personal affront to me. Well, quite frankly it isn’t. And if they want to go to extraordinary means to cheat and I don’t catch them, then it’s not the end of the cliché world by any stretch of the imagination. So I’ve decided not to be so uptight about it. still, yesterday during 3a’s test I literally turned my back for a moment and tons of people started chatting. I was shocked.
I’ve also decided not to give people complete 1’s for cheating. It only results in more headaches for me because at first they protest that they weren’t cheating; then they harass me about what the hell will be the consequence; finally they ask when they can retake the test. And that’s something I just don’t understand — retaking the test. I give these kids more than a week’s notice; I tell them exactly what’s going to be on the test; I offer all the help I can give. Then when they fail it they want a retake. It’s amazing. It’s such a pain in the ass being so culturally different in one’s teaching.
Hoarfrost
Books and School
Last night I finally finished Bleak House, all eight hundred and four pages of it. Certainly a worth way to spend my time. It was quite a great read. The first two hundred of the last three hundred pages or so really move along. After five hundred pages of scene-setting, there are two hundred pages in which so much happens.
There are really some memorable characters, chief among them being Grandfather Smallweed with all his declarations of his senile wife being “a brimstone beast” or warnings to George not to be a “a brimstone magpie” (my favorite). And then there’s Harold Skimpole, a man I would give anything to strangle. Never in a book have I encountered such an ineffably annoying, selfish man. I also really enjoyed Mr. Bucket — a great and unexpected change in opinion. When he’s after Jo, one really hates him. But he turns out to be simply a man with a strong sense of duty, doing what he has to do (or what he feels he has to do) to the utmost of his ability. I came to respect him in the end, which I assume was Dickens’ plan.
There’s something about a Dickens novel, no matter how much I like his corpus as a whole (though I’ve only read four or five of his books as of now), that annoys me. They are, in many ways, predictable. You know that no matter how many characters he introduces and how unrelated they seem to be, they’ll all end up in a tight web by the end of the book, and most of them will turn out to be long lost cousins or brothers to boot. And yet you can’t say that all his novels have unqualified happy endings. In Bleak House Richard dies, as does Lady Dedlock — two characters indispensable to a truly happy ending.
And of course, there’s all the names: Dedlock, Skimpole, Smallweed, etc. Almost every name he chooses is suggestive of the person in some way: remove the “k” and “o” from “Skimpole” and you get “simple,” which is precisely how Skimpole presented himself, though he was far from it. Grandfather Smallweed was a minor (read: small) character but he was something of a pain in the ass most of the book (read: weed). In the end, even when he was being beneficial, he was still self-serving.
Yesterday I had class 4a group b. I think. At any rate, it was the group with Basia in it. Once again, no problems at all out of her. In fact, while I wouldn’t go so far as to say she’s a “dream” student, she is usually quite attentive and hard working, and she’s more than willing to speak English in class. She chatters away during activities without reservation. I don’t know what happened that day, but I certainly hope it doesn’t happen again.
Yet it confirms (or it seems to confirm) my method of handling it — give the student space and the benefit of the doubt and let everything work itself out. I did that with Marcin (4a) to some degree. I talked to him, making it clear that I wasn’t going to take shit from him and that how I treated him depended solely on how he treated me. He’s still something of a pain in the ass, but he’s not as bad as he was on those particular days.
Today marks the close of yet another month here. This would make about my thirty-seventh month in Poland. And almost the end of another year.
Time is only accelerating. I haven’t really written about time in so long; haven’t plopped down to moan about how it’s been “x years since thus and such happened and I can’t believe it’s been that long” in quite a while. I guess I could scour my journal and determine how many years it’s been since I was last obsessed with how many years it’s been . . . but I won’t. I’m not where I thought I would be when I was obsessed with time, though. Enough said.
School Thoughts
Today I had the unfortunate but all-too-frequent experience of having my schedule changed at the last minute. No — today was a first. It wasn’t at the last minute. I was ten minutes into my lesson when [a teacher] came in and apologetically took away my whole class. There was some guest speaker and so they were whisked away for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. When did they know about it? Certainly not just before the woman — a tall, lanky woman who looked to be in her forties but trying to look young and sexy — arrived. I ranted and raved about it for a little while with Danuta, but I’m over it. No sense worrying myself over it, really.
Otherwise classes went well. I had class 4a/a today (I think — Basia D’s group) and I had to pull something out of my ass because they’re one lesson ahead of the other group. I introduced them to the stupid Stinkys and I was shocked at how well they responded. After they’d established that they could talk about anything, as long as it was in English, they just chattered away.
November Deep Snow
Today I went for a walk in the fields behind the school. It’s been snowing continually since Thursday afternoon, and the snow-laden trees and blanket of white was just too tempting. I went for a walk of about an hour and a half, and in some places there were drifts up to my thighs.
Circle of English
Today was “Circle of English,” so by default it was at least a decent day. We had a brief discussion of Treasure Island, and then we sang a few Christmas carols. They’re going to teach the “circle of music” folks a couple of songs, and they were fairly willing to do so when I mentioned it to them.
Most of my lessons were fairly successful (including a very amusing one with 3a, during which I introduced Mr. and Mrs. Stinky). I had two lessons with 3c: one of them was the usual Wednesday business English lesson.
One of my lessons today was with class 3b, and they are becoming, in some ways, my favorite class. There are a lot of people there (mainly girls, but a few guys) that I really like, and with whom it’s a pleasure to work. Janusz is a sweet kid who has a cute childishness about him. Aśka is, basically, a dream. She’s a pleasant person; she’s a hard worker; she’s intelligent. I really like her. Dorota Z. is quite but always attentive. I never worry about their class because I know I basically have everything under control.
Today in 3a I introduced the Stinkys, as I said, and I was surprised at how well things went. Wiola D. and Stasiek ended up with the socks, but I don’t think that’ll happen often — at least not with Wiola. She seems intent on not getting it next time.
Dziubek in Action
Last night was one of those nights that can only happen here, I think. I went to Quattro around ten for a beer, expecting to see Marcin, Stasiek and the usual group. They were there and I sat with them for a while. Around 10:40 I decided I’d get something to eat, so I went up to the bar and ordered a pizza. I talked to Ania for a little while and just as it was about to stagnate, I heard someone walk up behind me — it was Andrzej Dziubek. I guess I’m easily recognizable even if you’ve never talked to me, so he said, “Hi, how are you?” I answered that I was fine. “I’m drinking, drinking, drinking,” he said. Indeed, he was quite inebriated. Then up came Stasiek’s dad1 (who previously had been dancing with a number of different young girls — and I do mean young. Enough so to be his daughter) and he started talking to Andrzej. And Andrzej responded, “You are my friend!” in English. Truly blasted.
Dziubek ordered a bottle of wine and eventually staggered out to the dance floor, SD (Stasiek’s Dad) in tow. When the DJ saw who was out there, it was predictable what would happen, and sure enough, the next song was De Press. So, having almost finished my pizza, I decided to go watch. After all, how many times do you get to watch an inebriated Pole dance to his own music that’s quite famous and popular in Norway? The tragically amusing thing was Dziubek’s philandering. He grabbed one girl’s ass, then slide his hand farther down her crotch. She nimbly avoided his groping hands, but continued dancing near him, and talking to him. Next he grabbed her and tried to kiss her — or rather, grabbed her and simply shoved his tongue in her mouth. She managed to escape that as well — and continued dancing there and talking. After two songs, the DJ stopped playing Dziubek’s music eventually he moved off the dance floor. Still on the periphery, though, he just walked up to a girl, grabbed her, and tried to shove his tongue in her mouth. She saw it coming though, and blocked him. She simply ignored him, though, and he just left.
1 Indeed — this was his brother-in-law. 6 February 2004
School Christmas Show Prep
Friday: woke up to snow. I was sitting here preparing the outline for class 3b, who will be having a fairly useless test Friday1, when suddenly it started snowing — quite heavily. The sun came out, though, and the snow was gone by mid-morning. Still, it was nice while it lasted. And there’ll be more to come, certainly.
Friday night I did nothing but work on “A Christmas Carol” for the kids — rather, the girls, since no guys ever come — of the “circle of English,” something we must rename as soon as humanly possible. The plan is this: I’ll give it to them now, a couple of chapters at a time, and then we’ll discuss it during the circle, and hopefully they’ll be able to make an even more simplified version that we can put on the bulletin board in about a month. That will be great if it works out.
Friday I also talked to Mirek Smoleń about a joint circle of English/circle of music presentation during the opłotek meeting. I’m going to be teaching the girls a few Christmas carols and they’ll be teaching them in two weeks to the kids in the circle. Then we’ll perform them for the school. Not bad, I think.
1 I thought they’d done more business English stuff than they actually had. There’s in fact only about three topics, but that’s fine, I guess — the good kids will get good grades and the bad kids will get bad grades. I hope.
Znalazłes?
It’s amazing how much one can implicitly communicate through one’s choice of words. “Znalazłes›?” asked the woman in the big store as I was looking for szpilki. My first thought was, “Znalazłes›? Don’t you mean, ‘Czy Pan znalazł?’” The lady in the small flower shop had used the formal, polite “Pan” with me just moments before, but this woman chose the familiar form – something that would be positively rude to do to unknown Pole. Given the fact that adults use the familiar form with children, I couldn’t help but feel a little insulted at this perceived slight. Putting the foreigner in his place, so to say.
I’m curious how other Poles would interpret this.
A Walk in the Fields
NT Cemetery, Fall
School Performance
