The Shack

Today was induction at "The Shack"
it was exciting and scary at the same time
as always is the fear of the unknown
and heightening that was the confirmation
that i'm the ONLY music teacher
a.k.a. THE ONE who has finally arrived
to salvage the aesthetically parched land
devoid of music education

We were given a tour of "The Shack"
by the OM hereby christened "Boon"
who makes lamely funny jokes about everything
He orientated us around the building,
using a metaphor, describing some parts of it hell
and as we approached a spiral staircase,
he called it the "Stairway to heaven"

At some part of the building
i was bitten by at least 3 mozzies
apparently no amount of fogging could get rid of them
it was sad to find out that the "smurfies" were divided into different blocks
distinguished by their intellectual abilities
we are so fond of segmenting things
but not everything can be clearly divided
ain't it?

The staff room was a really badly conceived and executed architectural plan
the high ceiling space left a "could be" second level absolutely empty
so the second level is but a measly mini toadstool of a staff room
tucked away in a corner, with a staircase leading down
to a crammed and messy first level.
it's hard to imagine but if you really had to make it out,
it looks like a pseudo artistic warehouse with a pseudo loft.

Something like this
but definitely not as inviting
you get the idea
level one - big space
level two - pathetic shed

so i'm crossing my fingers right now
that i do at least get a proper seat
and not cram up in
the media resource room
with the rest of the trainees
Pathetic!

The tour was pretty short and the induction almost brief
Actually i had a haunting funny thought today
I was actually looking forward to working near Rochester Park
Don't ask me why. ('cos i can't give you a satisfactory answer)
But one thing i'm glad is that i'm going to be surrounded
by the company of good friends.

Meanwhile, i'm off to Perth on a jet plane.

if we could stop for a while
and watch the world pass us by
would we live life differently?

Read off Jose Saramago's novel "All the Names"
Something that sounds poignantly true:

Strictly speaking, we do not make decisions,
decisions make us.
The proof can be found in the fact that,
though life leads us to carry out
the most diverse actions one after the other,
we do not prelude each one with a period of reflection,
evaluation and calculation,
and only then declare ourselves able to decide
if we will go out to lunch or buy a newspaper
or look for the unknown woman.