hull in my head

It was a drizzly Wednesday morning, the type of morning where it is just cold and grey enough to justify sleeping in. True as it may have been, my alarm clock’s insistent beep obviously felt otherwise. I got up huddled in a blanket and made myself ready for service.

After a few outings I can honestly say that service in the Newland Congregation is a bit different from other places. It’s a relaxed pace and is very social. It’s not uncommon at all to see 6 or 8 witnesses just standing on the sidewalk chatting. It’s actually quite fun, and perfect for mornings where you debated whether or not to go out.

I worked with Nathan who taught me the pace of the area, (ie: slow and steady until it’s almost time for coffee break at which point there is a 10 second per door rule is invoked). After 12 years of pioneering he feels like he has most improved his coffee break techniques. I told you he was cheeky. It was interesting though to hear stories and see buildings in Hull that were bombed. Being a large port Hull was a pretty big target during the war. There is a spot where a parachute bomb was intended to destroy a bridge but missed and totally decimated a row of about 10 houses. I don’t think I’m alone in saying that my education in the states never talked about bombs in England. Shame really, as a male species I would have liked to hear more about things blowing up.

After service and coffee I made my way back home for my first official class. I dressed in what I deemed my finest outfit, one that I had laid out the night before just for old times sake. I wore my favorite jeans, a white cotton button-up, my previously mentioned new striped sweater vest, a blazer with my “It’s never dull in Hull” button, and leather boots. I felt quite snappy actually as I walked/danced to school with my iPod providing a soundtrack.

My first class was Biology in Education, which is going to be difficult. For the class I will be teaching Biology in about a week’s time so they throw us into this crash course of what to do and what not to do before we begin. The real trouble however is that education is chalk (get it chalk?) full of acronyms. In the states we throw them around and know exactly what they mean, it’s a learned language. Things like WASL, DOL, GED, SAT, TWBAT, GLE, EALR, and the list goes on. The problem lies in that I have no idea what the English acronyms stand for yet it is assumed that I do. I am the first foreign student to take the class so it’s going to initially be difficult to get caught up with everyone on something as simple as vocab. Despite the inherent difficulty the class does sound fun and I eagerly anticipate having a classroom of English kids in my charge.

The next day was French class where again I felt as if I was behind in vocabulary. It seems that everyone knows a little bit of French, or at least a little more than me. As the professor spoke in her native tongue I looked around hoping to find an equally confused person in the room but most were just nodding in understanding, or just faking it convincingly. In the end that is what I opted to do and I looked to the others for cues. My professor (or lecture as they are called here) is an older French woman who looks as if she was quite beautiful in her time but years have taken their toll. She still remains very classy and strong willed however, something I find fairly typical of French women. To help me with the class I’m hoping to immerse myself even more so into French. I’m on the hunt for good French music, movies, and the like. I even had a baggett for lunch.