There seems to be an air of homesickness circulating. The mouse in the Pikey House is homesick and so are some of my colleagues, so to cheer us up, here are a couple of tales of my exciting life.
As some of you know, I have a giant dice that I take to all my classes along with Tony the football. I don’t always use these props, but it is a comfort to know they are there just in case…
Well, after work, we were outside the lift waiting to leave our 6th floor place of work. I was kicking my dice around like a football (just like the kids do) and as one colleague got in the lift to leave, I accidentally kicked the dice through the lift doors which then promptly swallowed my dice. :( This caused fits of giggles. Maybe you had to be there. Luckily, the dice came back up with the lift as my colleague wasn’t mean enough to steal it.
I’ll put this into some sort of context, shall I? I have fitted into the Cadiz winter like a hand into a glove and am embracing the opportunity to wear winter clothes. I’m regularly seen about town in my red coat and black hat. I don’t know if I do, but I’m worried I might make an impression on the locals, especially when I do stupid things. Mr A has to point out to me on a rather frequent basis that I gesticulate when telling a story or I do impressions or act out the words I’m saying. This is the result of never having quite enough confidence in my language ability in French and Spanish to communicate effectively with words alone, and of being an EFL teacher where students need a lot of visual clues (I try not to teach English in Spanish, so mime and synonyms is what the students have to put up with!). I act out things to Mr A and sometimes, I get a few funny looks from passersby. I don’t care. I don’t have to be serious in my own time (that’s reserved for work ).
So, take note. Red coat and black hat. Tendency to mime things in the street. Add to this my funny little hop step I do when I’m happy or excited. This step alone can cause alarm. So, the story. Yesterday I was walking back from Miami (the cafe bar) when I felt momentarily overcome by general happiness when I did my little step. To reiterate to Mr A that I had done my little hop step, I repeated it, when my shoe came flying off my foot into a parked car. No damage was done other than to my ego and already suffering reputation.
There are many events in my life like these two.
Back to homesickness. My medication is Tetley tea in my Scouserware mug, lots of chocolate, warm blankets, films, music and TV that remind me of home (like Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares – it’s good to hear a British accent with all it’s colourful expressions when you’re homesick) and….I need some UK comedy, desperately. American imports just don’t do it.
What are your cures for homesickness?