Google+ Followers

Thursday, 19 February 2009

MIGUELS IN THE MIST

Reeling from the shock and awe of my neighbour's childrens' party which came to an abrupt halt at four o'clock in the morning last Sunday when I threatened them with the proper authorities and maybe a pot plant or two I have only just recovered and am once again wondering if I can continue to live in a country where if you ask someone to turn their music down you are told you are a son of a bitch who doesn't like children for how dare I try to sleep at a reasonable hour while adults decide to use their offspring's birthday as an excuse to get pissed and have a fight and generally be as anti-social as possible. I'm beginning to think living in Peckham might guarantee a good night's sleep. The drama didn't stop there as all week I have been threatened by this familia and have had all sorts of insults hurled my way including one that suggested if I rang the police to complain about the noise they would ring the police and tell them my partner was a wife beater.

It's the sort of thing that might turn you into the sort of person who decides 'that's it, I will not talk to the staff and I shall become a complete fascist and snob and just hate everyone because they are all thick and anti-social and that's how it is'. I wonder if there are chavs and gentuza in Newfoundland. I guess there would be.

So, very upset, frazzled and realising why the Spanish don't complain or if they do it is to the sky I think another plan is needed and quickly. I was thinking of going to the police but past efforts to get them to do something about the potential ASBO aspirants around here have been met with laughter. I can see why some folk pick up arms. Maybe grenades?

I am still dreading the community meeting but have promised myself to sit back and watch it like I am making an anthropological study. The carnival also beckons and plan B is to get the hell outta here to a small village in the mountains and hope I get snowed in.

Massive improvements from Classes 3A and B apart from one Laura who took it upon herself to write 'English is shit' on the blackboard at the end of the lesson. I wouldn't mind but she wrote it in Spanish. I watched her run away to the safety of the canteen where I slowly pursued her and took her back pointing out along the way that I didn't care what the other teachers were prepared to put up with but she had to learn that I wasn't going to put up with her shit. I doubt if the message will last although she begged me not to tell anyone else especially her mum.

Finally, as I am about to go out for a drink even though it is before midnight, I hope to see the exhibition on the Lincoln Brigade tomorrow so there is something to look forward to and take my mind off the soul destroying antics of those nearby.

No comments: