The Christmas Round Robin

When I was growing up I vividly remember the heavy thud as bundles of cards landed on the doormat in the lead up to Christmas.  Times have changed - this year we've received two.  One from my sister in law and one from Jayden, one of my students!  Hopefully this is a reflection of our increasingly digital world, rather than our lack of popularity.  Back then, Christmas cards from distant friends and family were often accompanied with the inevitable 'Round Robin' letter.  These letters appeared to be a legitimate way for people to gloat about their idyllic lives and their children's successes over the course of the year, while meticulously glossing over any negatives.  I remember mum and dad chortling away about what positives they could possibly find to write about us when I had just been 'bust' for smoking, Tom had been discovered instigating spitting games at school, and Ben had been caught photocopying our neighbour's porn collection.  Personally, I think that would have made a far more entertaining read than boasts of marvellous Martin passing his Common Entrance and super Susannah achieving her Cycling Proficiency.

Anyway, in place of the 'Round Robin' letter, I am adapting this into a 'Round Robin' blog to update you on the year that has almost passed.

January
Living in a city that is celebrated for its impressive firework displays, it seemed fitting that David and I should completely miss them having collapsed jet-lagged in bed by 9pm.  After the excitement of missing seeing in 2014, we were straight back to business with me starting my English teaching course and Dave heading to China to work at a boat show.  January was a 'heads down' month.  My course was very intensive and I threw myself into the teaching, loving every moment.  Meanwhile Dave took full advantage of staying out of my way with a pint in his hand at The Phoenix, loving every moment.

My teaching course

February
February started with Chinese New Year and yet another impressive firework display that we both missed.  Dave, because he was taking part in a yacht race to Macau, where the naughty crew went swimming in the canal at The Venetian on arrival.  Me, because I was in a pub with a long-awaited cocktail in my hand celebrating finishing my course.

I took on my first paying students in February and started earning money after a couple of months of contributing nothing to the bank account.  This was also the month where I suffered the most humiliating experience of my life, turning up for a job interview and being told I had to teach a class. Completely unprepared I floundered around like an idiot singing 'Hello, hello what's your name?' to the tune of 'London Bridge is Falling Down' to a wall of blank, unsmiling faces.  I didn't get the job.

March

Finally I found a job teaching pre-school children.  In retrospect, what was I thinking?  I have never been baby and toddler friendly.  To be honest, they scare me!  Therefore, being trapped in a classroom in charge of 10 toddlers was hell on earth.  Place me on a stage and ask me to present on healthcare marketing to 100 people - no problem.  Place me in a classroom with a handful of toddlers and I'm a quivering wreck.  Within a week, I'd resigned.  Leaving my exasperated husband wondering if I would ever manage to hold down a job again!

Besides, finding and losing a job, I also participated in one of the worst sailing races I have ever experienced in my life.  You know the expression, 'by failing to prepare, you're preparing to fail'? Well, we did that spectacularly.  The Pedro Blanco race was a windy overnight race with uncomfortable seas.  One crew member disappeared down below after eating a 7/11 sandwich, never to be seen on deck again.  We had forgotten to do any proper catering or arrange a watch system, and we had a near-miss with the Pedro Blanco rock we were supposed to be rounding.  I have never been so relieved to get off a yacht!

The highlight of March was a visit from my brother Tom and our first outing to the amazing Hong Kong Rugby Sevens.  Dave sadly missed out as he was at K-TV in Sanya.

Hong Kong Rugby Sevens

April

Despite the horror of the Pedro Blanco Race, it wasn't sufficient to put me off taking part in the China Sea Race to the Philippines over Easter.  Although we had a terrible start to the race, having picked up a large mooring line around our prop, we were finally off albeit at the back of the fleet.  Over the next couple of days we managed to creep our way up from last position and were sailing pretty well.  However, as the Philippines coast came into sight, the wind died and we spent hours and hours going round and round in circles.  It got so desperate that eventually the rum was opened and when the wind finally filled in, a rather inebriated crew finally managed to cross the finish line.  There was a great sense of achievement having made our way all the way from Hong Kong to the Philippines simply under the power of the wind.

Once we had delivered the yacht safely back from the Philippines, it was time for David to disappear to Singapore and me to start another new job.  This time teaching at a kindergarten until the end of June, in addition to my tutoring work which was building up well.

May
May marked the month my weight started to increase and our bank balance started to drain as M&S Food opened by the Mid-Levels escalator.

June

The highlight of June was a visit to Hong Kong from an old work colleague, which was a great excuse for me and two other old work mates from MindShare who live here, to get together.  Even though 10 years had passed since we had all worked together, we had a fabulous evening reminiscing about our London days.

David abandoned me late in the month to take part in a sailing regatta in Penghu, Taiwan.  And as my kindergarten prepared for its Graduation Day, I prepared to find a job a bit closer to home.  Having heard that a friend was leaving her job at a lovely little kindergarten in Happy Valley, I put out some feelers and secured an interview at her school.  This time I was warned I would need to teach a class so I avoided a repeat performance of 'Hello, hello, what's your name?'

Little Munchkins

July
School was out for summer!  I was supposed to be teaching in Beijing over the summer but unfortunately it was cancelled at the last minute.  Rather than lounging by the yacht club pool every single day, I managed to motivate myself to find some more adults and kids to tutor and a summer course to teach.  I did manage to squeeze in a little bit of pool time and lots of sailing, but I must try harder next summer.  Yet again, my husband, realising that I wasn't going to be kept fully occupied over the summer ran away to Singapore again to escape from me.  While he was gone I booked us a summer holiday and as a punishment, I arranged us a holiday at a boutique resort that was also an animal sanctuary.  My idea of heaven, David's idea of hell!

School's out for summer

August

This was a special month as I inflicted my immense karaoke talents on not just one, but two groups of lucky people!  Both groups quickly worked out that I do NOT share microphones under any circumstances, and I like to have full control over the music choices as well.  I am a self-confessed karaoke hog.

At last, it was time for David and I to go on our animal sanctuary holiday in Langkawi.  David took the news that he might just be sharing his room with a few cats quite well.  He also resigned himself to dog walks being part of our itinerary.  The holiday started with David shooing cats out of the room every few minutes, and ending with him sharing a sun-lounger and our bed with four lovely cats.  Naturally, I managed to fit a dog walk in too.  Langkawi is a beautiful place for a summer break, made all the better for animals.

After we got back from Langkawi, David escaped from me again - this time to Italy and England.

September
At the beginning of September I started my new job teaching at Precious Blood Kindergarten in Happy Valley.  It quickly proved to be an absolutely lovely school to work at and there was a huge sense of relief at finally finding a school where I genuinely felt very happy and settled.

Shortly after returning to school, it was Mid Autumn Festival and a naughty visitor, our troublesome friend Sophie, came to visit.  Sophie came to see us solo, leaving her husband cleaning the house and walking the dog back in England.  It was great fun showing a good friend a taste of Hong Kong and we covered everything from sailing, to hiking, to beaches, to shopping.  Unfortunately I couldn't keep up with her drinking prowess and had to leave her in David's very capable boozing hands.

Once Sophie left Hong Kong, Dave fled to Indonesia.

October
I had been looking forward to October for months as this was when my mum and dad were going to come and visit us.  We spared them the pleasure of sharing our tiny apartment with us and booked them into a flat just down the escalator from our home.  A lot of time and effort had been put into building an action packed itinerary for them and they had barely dropped off their suitcases before we were dragging them to enjoy a lychee martini and chinese feast.  This seemed to remain the theme for the week - drink, eat, drink, eat, drink!

Their visit coincided with the start of the Hong Kong pro-democracy demonstrations so they were able to witness first hand a historic moment in Hong Kong's history.

It was wonderful to give mum and dad a glimpse of our lives here in Hong Kong and to reassure them that despite the difficulties of the previous year, we really are settled and happy now.  The worst thing about having my parents here was that there would be the inevitable 'goodbye' at the end which was a little tearful.

David forgot to abandon me in October so we celebrated by going to the Hong Kong Open Golf together and drinking far too much rose.

November
A month of firsts.... My first Thanksgiving dinner, my first Hong Kong Round the Island Race, my first Asian music festival - Clockenflap.

The highlight - Clockenflap - but it wasn't quite the same without my badly behaved UK festival buddies to spike my drinks and trip me over in the mud!

Once more David forgot to leave the country.

Clockenflappers

December
Holidays are coming, holidays are coming!  And now, here we are in December.  The flat has been transformed into a grotto, the fridge is stocked with M&S party food and the mulled wine has been on free-flow.  We have been Christmas partying and Christmas sailing.  This weekend is my school's Nativity and Dave has front row seats - yes, he's forgotten to flee Hong Kong again.

We have a quiet Christmas arranged, with just the two of us which will be really weird as we're both used to large, noisy family Christmases.  It could be our first and last Christmas a deux!  And we're counting down the days to our holiday to Cambodia and Vietnam between Christmas and New Year.

2014 has been a great year for us both establishing our lives in Hong Kong and roll on 2015!


HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE.

It's not me, it's them

Since I left my PR job last year, I have had a niggling worry.   I knew the woman I reported to on one of the particularly stressful accounts I directed during my time there, lives around the corner from me.  Conscious that I have been holding back a lot of pent up anger about the lack of support and understanding I received at the company, and shame about my failure to make my role there work - I spent considerable time mulling over what I would do and say if I were to bump into her.  

Last week, literally dripping in sweat from a particularly humid hike, I was almost home standing at the traffic lights waiting to cross the road and there she was.  For a fleeting moment I thought about turning around and taking an alternative route but I chose to face the situation instead.  When she saw me I couldn't detect ill-concealed alarm or antipathy towards me, in fact she broke into a broad smile that reached her eyes.  Her first words were "Wow!  You look amazing, so happy and healthy!".   Typically I might have dismissed this as a fake greeting but as I was mid-detox and feeling pretty damn good post exercise (despite my sweaty face), I took the compliment as I believe it was intended.

We stood on the street for a long time chatting about the company and what has been happening there since I left 10 months ago.  Hearing that practically the entire account management team has left in the past few months, and that she too was leaving imminently for a new job, despite having been an evangelist for the business, was a revelation.  Suddenly I didn't feel like the freak who couldn't hack it working in PR in Hong Kong, instead I realised the problem didn't lie with me, but with the company.  In therapist talk I suppose I have finally found peace and acceptance and can at last close the door on the entire episode.

When I got home, I immediately received a whatsapp message from her saying how great it had been to see me and suggesting we meet up for a glass of wine when she returns from travelling in a couple of weeks time.  Regardless of whether a meet up materialises or not it was a considerate gesture.

It is strange how these moments you dread often take an unexpected turn.   What I had imagined may be a confrontation had morphed into a reconciliation.  It also stressed how much my life has changed in the past few months.  All at once it struck me that I genuinely am happy, content and fulfilled and for the first time in years I don't feel stressed... at all!  And it shows on my face.  People who I haven't seen for a couple of months keep telling me how happy I look.  Eeyore's rainy cloud has shifted and been replaced with sunshine and long may it last!

That was then

This is now

The Dangers of Comparitis

I have a confession to make.  I have a deadly disease and it is called 'Comparitis'.  I believe it is something I have lived with my entire life.  If you are not familiar with this condition, it means that I have a tendency to compare my view of other people's lives to my own.  For years, I have obsessively surveyed how I stand up to my peers and analysed my position in comparison to theirs.  Was my job title as impressive?  Was my salary as generous? Was my house as homely?  Was my boyfriend as faultless?  Were my family as close-knit?  Was my figure as fat-free?  Was my party as raucous?  Was my hair as shiny?  Was my car as well-specced?  Was my wardrobe as stylish?  Was my dog as well-trained?

I used to believe that this was a typical trait of a competitive person, a way of spurring myself on to reach increasingly ambitious goals.  As I have got older I have started to understand this is an emotionally dangerous disease that erodes positivity, leaving only feelings of inadequacy and failure.  Now that I am aware of its enduring risks I am taking action to halt its progression.  So rather than focusing on how: I have an inferior job title to my peers; earn less money; live in a smaller apartment; have a scruffier wardrobe; have frizzier hair; have more fat and cellulite; and don't own a car.... I thought I would instead put the spotlight on the fantastic things that have happened in my life recently.

1)  I have made a complete career change from marketing to teaching

2)  I have succeeded in achieving a great work/life balance (a genuine accomplishment for workaholic Hong Kong).  Each week I work two days in one kindergarten, half a day in another, and supplement that with private tutoring.

3)  I am slowly building my private tutoring business.

4)  I am going to teach English at a Summer Camp in Beijing for a month in July/August.

5)  I have sailed 1200nm across the China Sea from Hong Kong to the Philippines and back again.

6)  I have completed my first (and probably last!) Cat 1 ocean race.

7)  I have visited a new country.

8)  I am going to go hiking in China with David when I finish the Summer Camp in Beijing.

9)  I have been to a party at the most amazing house in Hong Kong overlooking the skyline and harbour.

10)  I have been to the Hong Kong Sevens.

In order to combat this critical disease it is vital for me to regularly acknowledge how incredibly lucky I am to be here in Asia, participating in so many incalculable life experiences.   In the words of Mark Twain "Comparison is the death of all joy".  I am not going to let Comparitis eradicate all the joy from my life.

Sailing across the South China Sea

 Partying in the Philippines

Partying in Hong Kong

Hong Kong Sevens

One year on...

To mark the completion of my first full year in Hong Kong, I have been reading over my posts from when I first arrived here.  I now cringe a little at my effusive ramblings from the early days.  I was so naive to what it would truly mean to move 6,000 miles from home and how I would be affected by the upheaval.  Ignorantly, I believed that I would take the move in my stride having been to boarding school and having lived in various different cities.  Having spoken to other expats, I know that I am by no means alone in having found the first year in Hong Kong a major challenge.  However, if I could go back in time to my snowy last day in the UK, knowing how the past 12 months have panned out, would I have stepped on my flight to Hong Kong?  Damn right, I would!

Despite the dramas, I have learnt so much and I am emerging out of the gloom far more resolved and settled than I would have been had I stayed in the UK.  So, what exactly have I learnt?

The value of money
Since I left the marketing world our joint income has been dramatically slashed.  Whereas before I wouldn't have blinked at spending over £100 on our weekly grocery shopping, on regularly impulse-buying clothes or splashing out on quality cosmetics and 'stuff' for the house, I now watch every dollar. I have stopped using credit and debit cards and only use cash, to reign in the spending.  I have learnt to say 'no' as we can't afford to do everything we may like to do.  Little things like a coffee from Starbucks or a meal out have become a treat rather than the norm.  I no longer throw away any food from our fridge, we only buy what we need, and if we do eat out and there are leftovers, I am not ashamed to take home a doggy bag!  It has made me see how wasteful I have been and how it is possible to live happily without hemorrhaging cash.

Rich through family and friends

Since I have been living in Hong Kong I have come across some incredibly wealthy people.  Some have been absolutely vile with depraved morals - others modest and perpetually generous.  I may not be rich on paper but the tenacious support, kindness and encouragement I have received from my amazing husband, wonderful family and fantastic friends throughout the year has made me conscious that I am significantly richer than most.  

Redefining myself
Before I left the UK, I was a relatively successful marketeer with a job and accompanying salary that defined me.  Arriving in Hong Kong I became a 'trailing spouse', followed by a brief spell as a 'PR luvvie', followed shortly afterwards as a 'trailing spouse who had lost her direction'.  My biggest challenge has been to work out what I want to be and what path to take next.  Having recently qualified as an English teacher, I am now combining private tutoring with part-time teaching in kindergartens and language centres to build my experience.  Longer term, once we are more financially established here, my plan is to teach part-time to fund my passion for writing.  I still have some way to go to fully redefine myself but with each small step, I am slowly making progress.

Accepting your lot
Much of the turmoil I have faced over the past year has been around accepting our child-free future.  Through professional counselling and the support I have had to my blog, I have found that I am by no means alone in feeling that my life is 'missing' an aspect that perhaps I'd assumed I was entitled to have.  I have come to terms with the fact that I am not intended for motherhood and my life is set to take a different path.  I am determined to make my life as meaningful as possible and live it to the full regardless.  So let the adventures begin....

Thank you Hong Kong for a roller coaster first year and here's to the start of an exciting next chapter...

Happy Bloggaversary!

A year ago (almost) to the day, I posted my first blog setting the scene for charting what was to happen once dream scheming about moving to Asia, became a reality.  Had I known the highs and almighty lows I was going to face during year one as an expat, I might have opted to stay put with my Winnie.  However, having weathered the storm, life is looking brighter and Hong Kong is beginning to feel like my home.

My Winnie Dog who I still miss very badly

In that first blog I posed a number of questions that I can now confidently provide answers to....  So, after 12 months of keeping you poised on the edge of your seats with eager anticipation, here they are:

1)  Would we be able to learn Cantonese?  Well we could, however we haven't.  I can only say the most important things in Cantonese... Hello, thank you, receipt, Mosque Street (my address!), hurry up, crazy white person, cheers
2)  Where did the expats live?  A vast majority of expats who have just moved to Hong Kong live where we live, in the Mid-Levels - safety in numbers and all that!
3)  Would I get a job without being able to speak or write Cantonese and Mandarin?  Yes, but it is very tough getting a job in most industries here if you only speak English.
4)  How could we afford to become members of the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club so I could pretend to be a good corporate wife in front of David's customers?  By getting a short term membership.... so in 2 years time we are going to have to move elsewhere!  Oh, and fortunately I am not expected to be a good corporate wife which is a great relief for everyone.
5)  How frizzy would my hair go in the humidity?  INCREDIBLY - thank God for the inventor of the Brazilian Blow Out.  (For any blokes reading this, a Brazilian Blow Out involves the straightening, not removal, of hair).
6)  Was there a Toni and Guy?  Yes, but I can only afford to look through the window.
7)  Did they sell  fake tan in Hong Kong?   No - quite the reverse.  Most of the moisturisers contain bleach to whiten the skin so you have to be very careful not to pick up the wrong pot.  Luckily, with a fairly regular stream of visitors, there is usually someone arriving who can top up my fake tan supplies!

Tomorrow - to mark the anniversary of my arrival in Hong Kong - I will blog about what I have discovered in my first year living here.

Coming of age

This weekend two significant events coincided - a visit to Hong Kong by my brother Tom and the legendary Hong Kong Sevens.   As a life-long rugby fan and long-time rugby player, Tom couldn't believe his luck when he discovered his business trip to Hong Kong coincided with the Sevens.  In his words "If Carlsberg did business trips......".  However, the realisation that his travels fell while the tournament was on presented his ill-prepared sister with a major issue.  The challenge of securing two tickets for the Saturday.  Fortunately the Hainan Rendez-Vous Boat Show in China clashed with the Sevens so I was able to relieve one of David's colleagues of a ticket, and a very kind friend decided to go sailing on Saturday instead of visiting the rugby, so I was able to acquire a second ticket.

The next task was to source outfits.  I had been advised that everyone dresses up at the Sevens and you feel slightly out of place if you aren't part of the fancy dress brigade.  After a few beers on his first night in Hong Kong, Tom had requested that he go as a matador.  I duly searched Pottinger Street (a street full of fancy dress stalls in Central) for a matador and a bull outfit, with notable success.

However, Tom forgot he had demanded a matador outfit and instead insisted that he went to find our outfits himself.  Being the trusting soul that I am, I banked on my brother finding us creative and fun costumes we could wear with pride around Hong Kong Stadium.  Imagine my disappointment when he turned up with these inappropriate and offensive masks.

Offensive masks

On Saturday morning we were ready and raring to go and donning (what we deemed to be) the least objectionable masks - we set-off for the stadium as Colonel Gaddafi and Saddam Hussein.

Gaddafi and Saddam do the Hong Kong Sevens

As a Hong Kong Sevens virgin, I was unsure of what to expect but it quickly became clear that the Sevens was a massive, fancy-dress piss-up with an on-going stream of rugby as a minor distraction.  The atmosphere was fantastic, and the range and creativity of the outfits, coming a close second to my favourite music festival - Bestival.   I had been advised that the South Stand was the place to be.  For over-18's only, the South Stand is, without a doubt, where the party is at.  However, I had a depressing 'coming of age' moment, when I realised that at the age of 42, I no longer have the desire, inclination, tolerance or stamina to party with the masses.  Instead, we met up with more 'mature' friends and positioned ourselves under cover in the West Stand.  We were very grateful for the cover when at 11.30am the sky went absolutely pitch black and we were hit with torrential rain.  We watched, feeling slightly smug, as the South Stand revellers dashed for cover under the stand or reached desperately for plastic ponchos and umbrellas.  We were able to stay put and watch the poor Scotland team battle it out against the United States and the elements.

Amber rainstorm

As the day progressed, a different side to the Sevens emerged.  The tournament also appears to double up as the key event in the early-teen international school kids' calendar to experience their first binge drinking session.  Throughout the afternoon, the ladies toilets started to overflow with scantily clad, wobbling, slurring, hair-flicking young girls, alternating between screeching rubbish at each other and vomiting.  Their parents probably too busy necking champagne in the corporate boxes to consider what their precious little darlings were up to.  It brought back memories of 'booze-ups' at Sherborne and made me feel nostalgic and old all in one.

Throughout the day I combined people-watching, with rugby-watching.  The South Stand did look a lot of fun and fleetingly I wanted to be part of it.  I wished I had visited the Sevens with my fellow Wasps Ladies rugby team mates when I was in my early twenties.  I know we would have blended in perfectly and had the time of our lives.  Yesterday made me realise that those days are behind me now.    I am far more comfortable observing from a distance - and any time I felt a pang of remorse, I reminded myself of the insecurity and angst that accompanied those hard partying years.  Despite finally 'coming of age' at the Hong Kong Sevens, I enjoyed every second of the day and fully intend to go next year, when once more I will be positioned with the 'grown-ups' in the West Stand.

Hanging out in the West Stand at the Hong Kong Sevens

One step forward, two steps back

The past week has not entirely gone to plan for me.  Having said that neither has the past year and I am getting used to taking one step forward and two steps back.  On Monday I started a new job in an international pre-school.  During the interview I was seduced by the passion of the owner of the school, a very warm Cantonese woman who had given up a career in the Hong Kong police force to set up her own school.  I was interviewed in the school on a Sunday, so the school owner and I were the only people there.  The school was light and bright and very clean and colourful - a far cry from the dark, drab, grey, airless office I had previously worked in.  It was based in Causeway Bay, a very easy commute from our home and conveniently close to the yacht club.  I could picture myself working happily in such a welcoming environment.  The interview went very well and I was offered the job on the spot.

This week it quickly became clear that in my excitement at being offered my first full-time teaching job, I had naively brushed over some of the details - for example exactly what teaching 'pre-school' would entail!  Day one was an eye-opener and with a sinking heart, I realised what I had signed-up to.  From 8.45am a steady stream of wailing two year olds arrived at the school and I was ordered to greet them with a smile, observe them from a distance, and not hold eye contact for too long in case I scared them! From 9am to 12pm I was imprisoned in a classroom with the toddlers (along with two other teachers).  I was asked to sit on a child-sized chair behind two of the most unruly children and jam my feet behind their chairs so they were pinned in place at their desks and unable to escape.  I witnessed one of the little boys sneeze producing a thick green trail of snot from his nose to his hand, and then retched as I had to wipe up the mess he had made.  One little girl cried for the entire 3 hours, asking for her mum - I felt like joining in.  I felt sad that at the age of two, the children were sitting in a classroom, around desks, learning, rather than learning through play.  It didn't feel right to me, yet this is the Hong Kong way, and this is what I had agreed to facilitate.

I found the afternoons more rewarding as I was tasked with teaching four year olds one-to-one lessons and felt I was able to make a difference, hold the children's interest and teach something.  Each morning though I was back in a classroom with tearaway toddlers, fighting over musical instruments, hitting each other when they thought no one was looking, and struggling to stay focused on the lessons.  On Saturday I hit a new low when I was asked to assist in a class teaching 8 month old babies English!  Being stuck in a room with one baby and one set of cooing parents wears on my nerves.  Times that by seven and I was trapped in purgatory for the longest hour of my life.  Fortunately, I had already assessed that I am not cut-out for teaching such young children and had prepared my letter of resignation which I handed over on Saturday afternoon with an immense feeling of relief.  There was not a shred of doubt that I had made a decision I would regret later.

When I Facetimed my parents later in the day to let them know that I had resigned already, I was greeted by a cry of "Oh, for f**k's sake!" by my father.  A sentiment I reflected on realising, for the second time since arriving in Hong Kong, I had secured the wrong job for me!  I suppose the course of changing career is never going to run smoothly and you are going to make mistakes, and all you can do is learn from those mistakes.  I know now that I do not want to teach children younger than 3/4 years old.    I know to ask more searching questions during the interview process and not rush into taking the first thing that is offered to me.  I am also considering whether I would be better suited to being my own boss and building my own business tutoring.  I have really enjoyed tutoring since I started in February and I have quickly seen the difference I have made through my teaching.  Perhaps this is the route I should follow, particularly as it would offer me more flexibility and the chance to get back to writing my literary masterpiece (!) which has been on hold since December.

While I spend the next week working my notice and clearing up endless trails of thick, green snot, I will be trying to work out how to start going forward... yet again!  Today I feel very disheartened to be back to square one, but sooner or later everything has to slot into place for me here.

Pick yourself up and dust yourself down

Although I have completed a full circle and am back to where I started out when I first arrived in Hong Kong - searching for a job - this time it feels different and I do too.  My previous experience has taught me to bide my time and not leap blindly into the first job that is offered to me.  I feel less manic than before and am endeavouring to remain that way.  I have a plan and, as long as our cash flow allows, I intend to stick to it.  Starting a new career in teaching, I am keen to take time experiencing one-to-one tutoring with adults and children, as well as teaching part-time in a school or kindergarten, before committing to a full-time role.  Up until yesterday the plan was on track with my tutoring work taking off and an interview lined up for a part-time kindergarten job.  Naturally, as with all the best laid plans of mice and men - mine went astray with the kindergarten interview going awry in spectacular style.

It had all started so well.  I had dedicated a majority of my weekend and Monday morning to familiarising myself with every aspect of Jolly Phonics.  I had learnt the actions and songs for all the letter sounds and I had even read the entire UK Department of Education's Letters and Sounds programme to promote speaking, listening and phonological awareness in children.  I felt prepared to answer any question directed at me about phonics.   In addition I had successfully negotiated my way through the MTR system, onto a mini-bus and through a maze-like housing estate, and found the kindergarten.  Then disaster struck at 2.40pm - five minutes before my interview.  I received a phone call to say that I may be expected to teach a class as part of the interview.  Oh brilliant!

I am a highly organised person and I plan things meticulously, as a result I am rarely put on the spot.  I went from feeling confident that I had prepared all I could for the interview - the job was in the bag - to feeling exposed, caught-off-guard and a quivering wreck.   Perhaps naively, it never crossed my mind that I would be asked to teach at first interview stage without prior warning, and as a result I had nothing prepared.  I had no option but to jump straight back onto the minibus and head home or I was going to have to wing it.  Unfortunately, I chose the latter option and I experienced the most humiliating 15 minutes of my life.  And it keeps playing back in my head, over and over again, causing me to repeatedly cringe with embarrassment.

According to the TESOL training I have recently been immersed in, the key to a good lesson is developing a detailed lesson plan with clear objectives for each stage and executing the plan with strong materials to engage your students.  It is vital for the teacher to get the students communicating as much as possible, with the teacher directing and prompting but not doing all the talking.  It would be fair to say that I failed on every single one of these counts.

I was let into the school by the headmistress (slightly lacking in social skills as she couldn't bring herself to say 'hello' to me) who directed me straight to a classroom and pointed at a cupboard to indicate I may find something within to help me teach.  I was given five minutes to prepare before I was faced with twelve little faces waiting expectantly for the English lesson of a lifetime.  Sadly what they were presented with was a deranged English woman who thought it would be a great idea to start the class by singing a song to learn their names.  In retrospect, a bit of a waste of time, seeing as I will never see the children again!  In case you are interested, the song in question goes 'Hello, Hello, What's your name?' to the tune of 'London Bridge is Falling Down'.  The children had literally just woken up from their post-lunch nap so I was greeted by a row of glazed faces while I sang away dementedly, demanding they tell me their names.  I should have got them playing musical chairs, as even though it wouldn't have got me the job, at least we all could have had some fun.

Once the children were 'warmed up' or in reality, still glazed and now post-traumatic, I reached for the phonics book to teach them some letter sounds.  Due to my detailed pre-interview research, I knew this group of kindergarten kids were learning the sound 'th' this week, so I thought at least it would be relevant if I selected this sound for my fifteen minutes of ritual humiliation.  Teaching the sound 'th' requires a bit of tongue sticking out and the odd bit of escaping spittle - an attractive look for an interview.  I managed to supplement the spitting with a Jolly Phonics song about a rude clown making this sound and that sound, which a couple of charitable children joined in with, to my relief.  However, I had no games or materials up my sleeve to make the class interactive or engaging so the next 10 minutes were spent getting the children to repeat or guess words featuring 'th', while I quietly shrivelled up and died inside.  Finally I managed to generate some excitement as I asked the children to sing the 'Bye-bye' song to me.  They waved me off with the most enthusiasm they had shown since they had arrived in the room.

I was hustled out of the classroom and out of the building with a curt - "we'll be in touch".  The only four words the headmistress uttered in the twenty minutes I was at the school.  There was no interview.  Unsurprisingly this was followed-up two hours later with an email to confirm that I had not been successful in securing the job.

I have spent the past 24 hours reliving my heinous loss of face, but finally I am seeing the humorous side.  On a positive note, I know for next time to arrive at an interview with a lesson plan and materials fully prepared.  It is also apparent that this business of changing careers is not going to be smooth sailing all the way, but I will keep plugging on and the plan will fall into place eventually.

I'm back

I know, I know, it's been ages since I last blogged but I am back - in every sense of the word.  After a fabulous break over Christmas, back home in the UK, catching up with friends and family, I returned to Hong Kong to start the Trinity CertTESOL course.  Having met and spoken to many people in Hong Kong who had completed the CertTESOL at English for Asia, I was entering into the course with my eyes wide open.  Without exception, everyone warned me about the intensity of the course, the horrors of writing assignments and lesson plans until the early hours of the morning, the sleep deprivation and kissing goodbye to a social life for the duration.  I would be lying if I didn't say I was both apprehensive and scared when I arrived on day one.  After my horrendous experience of working for an American PR agency in Hong Kong and the affect it had on my health, I was nervous that I would fast-track back to that horrible place I found myself in back in September.

For the first week I felt completely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of assignments we had to complete.  I hadn't expected to be working until 1am in the first few days just to keep up with the deadlines and as I felt my stress-levels escalate on a daily basis, I wondered if I actually had the mental strength to survive the full four weeks.  However, over the first weekend, things started to fall into place, I resigned myself to the fact that real life was going to be on-hold for a bit, and I started to enjoy learning and being a student again.  During the first week I compared the course to what I imagine it would be like to join a cult.  You are effectively programmed to think in the TESOL way through an intensive brainwashing process combined with extreme sleep deprivation.  I am clearly very malleable as I 'got it' pretty quickly.

The years of working in advertising and PR, completing lengthy tender documents and pitch proposals definitely stood me in good stead for churning out the seemingly endless array of written assignments and observations.  The time and money JWT and MindShare invested in my presentation training, and the years of putting that training into practice in client meetings, at pitches, running workshops and roundtables, and presenting at conferences was invaluable.  There is something a lot less intimidating about standing in front of a class of smiling students, rather than a room full of opinionated marketeers looking to catch you out, impress their boss or justify their inflated salaries.  As a result I loved the teaching practice side of the course and the creativity I could apply to planning my lessons.  Who would have thought that I could begin a lexis lesson on 'expressing opinions' using 10 collocations such as 'we are poles apart' and 'contrary to popular belief', with an image of Miley Cyrus twerking at the VMAs?  It worked though, with the students quickly demonstrating that they had strong opinions!

Miley and Me

For me, the highlight of the course has been developing deep friendships with the fellow students.  Together we have survived the highs and lows, the stress, and the lack of sleep with a combination of sweat, tears and most importantly humour.  We have propped each other up through the good times and the bad.  Having spent 5 months last year working in the least supportive and compassionate environment imaginable, I had started to believe that maybe that was the norm in Hong Kong.  The last month has affirmed that this is simply not the case.  I have met some wonderful, kind, caring people - in the other students, the tutors, and the willing victims who were kind enough to give their time to be our English Learners.  I feel confident that I have made long-term friends in the past month.

Ladies who lunch

Yesterday I was ecstatic to be told that my hard work had paid off and I had come top of the class and achieved the A I had yearned for.  It appears that I am a bit of a natural teacher - something I would never have predicted.  I am now looking forward to the next stage and going out and teaching in the real world.

I could not feel more different today to how I felt five months ago.  Last September I know I was a broken person, the CertTESOL course has mended me, my confidence has returned and I feel I am finally ME again.  Thank you English for Asia and Sara, Donna, Simone, Tracey, Laura, Trish, Keenan, Manuela, Jo, Gerry, Charlotte, Frank and Diederik, the makers of Maltesers and MacDonalds flat white coffee!

 Pizza feast with the students and the tutors