Job description.

Since I’ve started teaching in September, I’ve definitely performed duties that go much beyond those written in my job description.

I’ve become a life coach and an advisor.

A house painter, a bouncer and a jester.

A crowd-controller, a multi-tasking guru and a protector.

A mediator, a sweet dispenser and a self esteem boosting machine.

I’ve mastered the skill of using all the possible setting on the photocopier and the skill of resurrecting the connection between my laptop and the smartboard.

My body has been used as a number line slider, arms of a crocodile inequality sign and other impromptu learning resources.

I’ve become an improvisation expert, a more attentive listener and a fluent conversationalist with my gut feeling.

I’ve also grown to appreciate the power of tea to carry you through a long day.

This is what being a teacher is really like. Teaching is my main job. But really there is much much more to it. And this is what I love so much about it.

Nativity Scenes in Krakow.

The tradition of making nativity scenes (szopki) goes back to 19 century in Krakow, when it has been formalised in 19th century.* Each year people make those really elaborate constructions showing the birth of Jesus and this is quite amazing. It takes dedication to make them, especially the big ones (and those are at least 1.2m high) and the tiniest ones, when you need to use tweezers to get all the parts together. It was actually my first time in years when I went to see the szopki and it was surprisingly enjoyable. I'm not a big fan of museum trips, unless it's an archaeological museum, but it was fun. It's sweet that people cultivate the tradition, chapeau bas, because it does take a lot of thinking, time and effort, people spend the entire year making the szopki, you need to love it to do it.

Below, I share some of the nativity scenes I liked in particular.

Krakow demands access to the sea!

This is not pretty, but there is so much going one in here, all things piled up, all the tin foil and excessive number of figurines! Love it!

This one was absolutely tiny, made on a honey plaster with optical fiber all around.

* Want to know more? See here and here.

Getting ready for Christmas.

Christmas tree is ready, all the baking has taken place already, hovering is done and I've packed all the presents. Except a few bits and bobs to sort out tomorrow morning, now it's only waiting for the birth of Jesus.

My Advent was a bit of a roller coaster, with a lot of ups and downs,mostly downs, with plenty of flat periods in between and a handful of ups. But I'm thankful for that. I've come to realise many things. Or rather I was clearly shown that I can do better. I hope to be able to it on board and change something. There's a lot that could be better in my life if only I made some small steps in a different direction. This sort of goes to my New Year's goals. I have a few in mind, but I'll leave it for the time being.

In the meantime, happy Christmas! May it be a time of blessed hope and joy for you!

“Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord."

 Luke 2, 10-11

Number game.

So apparently I'm in the list position when it comes to dating. The numbers are simply against me. At least according to this article here: http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2015/nov/10/dating-gap-hook-up-culture-female-graduates

Would I date someone without a degree? I admittedly shivered at this thought at first, and I feel really bad about it, but actually, after thinking it through, it's not a degree that I'm really after.

My experience so far ranges from a guy who terribly struggled at school, and I'm not really sure where you got with his education by now to a guys reading for fantastic degrees, but showing varying interests in them, and different variations on the theme in between. And all of these relationships have left me with some unsatisfied need. It had nothing to do with their education. Being at Oxford, I have plenty of young and educated men here (sometimes even attractive!) and I'm not really that keen on dating any of them. There's nothing wrong with these guy's (or, me, hopefully, for that matter). It's just that they're all sort of the same. And they have the same idea about the future: get a good class degree and find a well-paid job in the City. There's nothing wrong with having a job in the city either, but I expect something... I don't know, less boring? More crazy? Of a sort of 'let's move to the Isle of Wight and start a pug farm!'

Intelligence doesn't necessarily follow a degree, and vice versa. And it's intelligence that I expect in my other half. And passion. For anything. But some sort of passion, that will make his heart race, that will make him want to get out of bed in the morning. And this is actually quite difficult to find these days, because people are somewhat indifferent and missing interest in anything worthwhile. And here the numbers are definitely more against me.

Maybe, since the numbers are against me anyway, I should just move to the Isle of Wight on my own and start the pug farm?

Or maybe I'll just prove statistics wrong.

A note to my younger self.

Dear Kat,

I know you're often anxious and sometimes you're rather list and unsure where your life will take you. I've been there and I felt it. Contrary to what most people try to force onto you, it's ok to be anxious- this is one of the most important things I've learnt so far. You can be scared, crawl under your duvet and cry. Even you need it sometimes, strong as you are. Because you are exceptionally strong and this strength you can find within you.

Don't feel like you need to be perfect at everything or anything for that matter. It's like with your snagle-tooth: it doesn't look perfect at all and yet people are somewhat attracted by it. Perfect doesn't make happy and happiness is something you should be after now. Be happy, Kat. Do whatever makes you smile, because in this short life these will be moments that count. You don't need to worry about the others so much, they'll look after themselves well enough. Find your own path. Don't listen to others' advice, because nobody knows what the hell they're doing, so they cannot lead you in life. But you'll know where to go, just listen to your gut.

And love. Love passionately and till the end as you do. Despite the unpredictability and unsystematic nature of its reward, love is one of a few truly worthwhile things. Love as if there's no tomorrow, give all of yourself. Don't be scared that you get hurt. In all likelihood you will, but pain won't last forever and through relationships you'll learn to be a better person.

Happy birthday Kat. Remember you're blessed.

Your older self.

Overgrown with dirt.

Ever since I started sharing accommodation with other people, first in the boarding house, then in college and an apartment in Leiden, I had to deal with filthy people.

And I don't people people who don't shower, or have a bad breath, dirty long nails or something like that. I mean people who, whatever they do, always leave dirt behind. It's completely beyond me how you can go about life in such a way.

Hair in the shower drain or in the bathroom sink is like a never ending story. Same goes for toothpaste in the sink. But the battle really starts in the kitchen. After breakfast time, breadcrumbs take over the kitchen counters. I have a suspicion that people live under an illusion that there is some sort of a breadcrumb fairy in the house who sweeps away all of the breadcrumbs that they leave behind. They must live in Wonderland or something, because neither in Poland nor in the UK have I encountered any breadcrumb fairies. Needless to say, food in the sink is also, apparently, cleaned up by an appropriate set of fairies. Those fairies must be pretty busy by the way, since they also take out overflowing recycling bins, pack and unpack the dishwasher, clean the fridge from mould which inhabited the veg crisper and do all sorts of other stuff too. Oh, and dirty knives and forks left in the sink are the recent occurrence, so our housekeeping fairies need to deal with those now.

I'm quite far from a perfect housewife ideal, but all this dirt drives me crazy! How are people not disgusted to prepare food in a dirty kitchen? Or take a shower in a dirty bathroom? Goodness gracious, it's absolutely awful and this is all I have to say on this matter.

Doing it the Dutch way.

Year abroad is an excellent opportunity to make some anthropological observations. These observations even have a linguistic twist in them.

It appears that the Dutch do not have a phrase 'excuse me' (or sorry for that matter), in their vocabulary. After four years on a Small Island, a placed filled with these phrases to the brim, it was, and still is quite frankly, a rather shocking experience.

So if you want to go through a narrow passage which is obstructed by an unfortunate fellow human being, and if you want to do it the Dutch way, make sure you follow either of these two procedures:

1) mute option: approach the unfortunate fellow human being and stand next to him, very close. Crucially, don't make any sounds whatsoever. Just stand very close to the unfortunate human being and look rather absent-minded.

2) vocal option: if you would rather use your voice strings, embark on the task as in option 1: approach the unfortunate fellow human being and stand next to him, very close. This time, however, you are allowed to make a sound: 'aaaaa' or some similar expression of unidentified emotions. Absent-minded look also welcomed here.

After following either of the procedures, stand there hoping that the person obstructing your way can read your mind even when he cannot see you since he has his back turned to you and is engaged in some intellectually demanding activity which makes it impossible to him to register slight air disturbances when another person approaches. 

***

On a more serious note, this is actually bloody annoying. Don't people know how to use their mouth? I've conducted an experiment this evening: I was washing the dishes when a girl came in and grabbed a kettle. She then stood right next to me with a kettle, but haven't said a word. So I carried on my washing up, silently making bets with myself as to how long she would stand so uncomfortably close to me. Nothing changed for a while, and I started feeling rather weird with her by my side, so I asked whether she wanted to fill up her kettle. What a stupid question to be directed at a person standing with a kettle in her hand next to the sink! But I had no choice! How else could I remedy this situation when she would not use her words? I really don't get it, maybe the Dutch really read each others mind?