I started working at my school on Tuesday 4th of October as the school had kindly allowed me to take Monday off so that I could move myself into my new accommodation.
I was a little nervous truth be told. I had previously suggested that I visit the school the Friday before I went to Graz but a communication error mean that this did not happen. I was a little embarrassed. I had hoped to make a good first impression but I was failing miserably.
My betreuungslehrerin asked me to turn up about 0730. I had sussed out the location of the school (a short tram ride from my new home). I was confident of the direction but not which tram to take.
Despite my ambitions to have a 'trial run'. I found myself gambling on Tuesday morning. All my impressionable eggs in one basket. It was a success, although I did get lost in the maze that is the HTL.
They eased me into lessons on the Irish, Ireland and stereotypes with me speaking a great deal so that the kids might get used to my 'special accent'.
It is comforting to note that the Irish diaspora has cemented our reputation as melancholic alcoholics who relish wet weather and work in a mainly agrarian economy.
I had hoped to disprove all of the above misconceptions but I understood it was going to be an uphill battle. With my special accent I described myself and where I cam from ('halfway between Dublin and Belfast'), as the crude map in their text book highlighted only 3 cities, Dublin, Cork and Belfast.
Every lesson was the same.
I would speak a little, talk about myself before uttering a few words of Irish, a language most of them had no ideas existed. Some even disputed that it was a language, instead saying it was a dialect. I proved them wrong.
I spoke a few words of Irish.
Hello.
My name is.
I am from.
I am working in Vienna.
Not only the lexicon but the vernacular amazed them.
To think that a European language could sound so different from what they knew.
I also gave them a brief description fo the GAA and gaelic games.
As a people interested in a variety of sports from all over the world they lapped up all information about the GAA greedily. Gaelic football had a familiarity but a uniqueness they had not known before.
A cross between football and rugby? Or soccer and basketball?
I let them decide.
On Thursday I was invited by my betreuungslehrerin to attend a short English musical with her fifth form class. It chronicled a the foundation and crumbling of a relationship between a man and a woman; wonderfully uplifting stuff. Still, highly entertaining.
Thereafter, I met with other TAs and commenced our weekend relaxation.
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