Taking Stock (And Not From A Turkey)

At least, not exactly. By many standards, I may be considered a turkey, I suppose, but the kind of stock I want to take here is of the inner, New Year’s reflections variety. Before you flee screaming, let me assure you there’s no lint in my navel. Please bear with me.

After spending nearly six years abroad (five in China, one in the Middle East), I returned to Canada just over a year ago. At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. My father, who’s in his eighties, had been dangerously ill and I felt my mother needed me. I also missed my daughters, Wumbles (32) and Creature (27). I was optimistic and excited about re-establishing myself in the Land of My Birth. Negative events began piling up almost immediately, however, and I’m now wondering if it was all a mistake.

The first hurdle was getting a decent job. I’m well-qualified and generally quite useful and efficient so didn’t anticipate huge problems. Apparently, though, everybody and their carbon footprintless puppy want to live in Victoria and will perform Slave Labour for Organic Peanuts in order to do so. And even though it’s not supposed to (this is Canada and we have laws), my age mitigated against me. I did, at last, after far too many long dreary months, find acceptable employment with a Telecommunications Company. I like my colleagues, the benefits are good, the wage reasonable, and the work passably interesting. But... but... some lines from Tennyson keep running through my head:

How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!
As tho’ to breathe were life...

And that’s exactly it - I feel I’m rusting unburnished, especially since torrential west coast rains have replaced the freakish snow.

I am a teacher; since 1987, I’ve spent most of my time teaching and I miss it. Let me tell a little story to illustrate my point:

Setting: Mainland China, 2002. An agricultural university. I’ve just taught my first class and am surrounded by a Group of Giggling Girls who want to take a closer look at their new Foreign Teacher. (This was before the foreigner explosion in that particular part of China and I was more of an oddity than usual.)

GOGG: For most of us, this is our first time to have foreign teacher.

Me: Big smile. (What can I say?)

GOGG: ...giggles...

Me: Bigger smile.

GOGG: ...louder giggles...

Me: What? What is so funny?

GOGG: We can’t tell you.

Me: Now you have to tell me. It’s a Canadian rule.

GOGG: ...giggles... You are not like what we thought foreign teacher would be ...giggles...

Me: What did you think your foreign teacher would be like?

GOGG: We cannot tell you.

Me: But you must. There’s a Canadian rule, remember?

GOGG: Well, we thought you would be young and fat with large hair...giggles...

Me: And??

GOGG: And...instead, you are old and skinny with little hair...giggles...

I ask you, who would want to spend their days toiling in a Respectful Workplace when this sort of delight is possible?

...to be continued...