Staying inside the lines

I'm so much better than the kindegarten kids at drawing and colouring in. They have no concept of perspective, they don't shade and they always go outside of the lines when they're colouring in. Every time we do arts and crafts and I'm drawing along with them, they look at my work with envy. HA! And so they should. They've got nothing on me. They're shit at drawing. And every time they look at me with wonder I think to myself "Yeah, have some of that!" You're going to have to let me have this small, pathetic, ridiculous joy. It's what helps me get through the day sometimes, when I'm completely worn down and exasperated by my efforts to make them sit still and listen to me. And if that joy comes from my artistic comparison to that of a five year old, then so be it. Don't tell me you've never felt pride out of being able to do something better than a five year old. It's only natural. Age should not come into it. Should it? Let me have it please. I don't even get a break when I am with my colleagues in the teachers room. One teacher can't even say words correctly, everything she says is a formless mass of vowels that aren't directed at all by any consanant sounds. And every time she trys to talk to me it seems like it hurts her, not emotionally, but physically, as though speaking English causes her discomfort. I should be teaching English to her, but whenever she speaks she coughs; a sharp explosive that is probably induced by a sound she can't get her mouth around. It does get frustrating.

And this heat man. It's almost unbearable. We must surely be in our 30's, but all I see are middle aged ladies covering up every surface of their skin with long white arm covers, sun-visors, and even masks. This is how it is though, as it's not cool to get a tan here. It's best to stay hot and bothered with milky white skin. I'm not complaining, please don't misconstrue me. I find it fascinating and totally accept how its done here, but don't you feel a little hotter yourself when you see someone layered up in intense heat? And when children run into you as though you were a pin in a pinball machine, grab and pull your t-shirt to shit and make fun of the way you talk, then it does take a bit of effort to maintain your composure.

I once watched a film, a very astute and insightful film, dealing with the pressures of a new job, a new home, a new life, all in a new place. How you come to terms with making new connections, putting one foot in front of another, in a Steinbeckian effort to keep going and take things little by little, as they come, regardless of they gravity of the situation at hand. Yes, Kindegarten Cop, was not the philosophical tract of a film that you hear now, but it does open up with repeated viewings and a new job as a kindegarten teacher maybe. No? Talking bollocks? Well yes of course, but when you've had the week I've had in this heat, then anything can start to have meaning. Every facial twitch of Scwarzenneger's reveals the pressures of social demands, every badly pronounced word he utters hints at the need for human contact, and every child he throws of his back underlines the basic condition of survival. "YAAARRAAAGHHH!"