"The Nightmare Before Christmas at No-Go Heathrow"

A brilliant title taken from one of many London newspapers covering the nightmare of Heathrow. Over 500,000 people were affected by the weather disruptions in Europe and, naturally, I had to be one of them. The end of term (which seems so far away right now) finally arrived and, with that, a wicked cold for travelling and a staff party at a club in Northampton. I had a great time and it was fun to celebrate with my staff before heading for home the next morning.

Saturday morning at 4AM, I leave Northampton for London. At Heathrow, I arrived a couple hours early and thought "Well...I'll have a coffee, check my bags, walk around a bit, and I'll be on a plane before I know it." I look up at the departures board and everything--everything--reads "Cancelled." Nobody understood why, or understood what was going on. A few minutes later, an announcement was made over the PA system saying that due to "adverse weather" Heathrow was going to be closed...welcome to the start of my very long day. The first thing was to wait in a re-booking line for 2 hours or so before a Heathrow worker walked by and handed out a piece of paper saying, essentially, that the airport workers would not be rebooking us there, we had to do it over the phone (a line that always automatically hung up because it was overloaded with calls) or online (a website which crashed and the WiFi wouldn't connect on my laptop) and we had to all go home.

After many frantic phone calls to Kristian later, he managed to book me a hotel room about 5 km away from the airport and I decided to hang around for the day to see if, just maybe, I could somehow get on a flight home. No dice. While waiting in yet another line, I started chatting with a couple girls and then 4 other guys arrived and we started to chat and hang out to pass the time. Tara, Jillian, Matt, Praveen, Brendan, JD and I were waiting in line when a BA worker, Soky came along with her personal cell phone and let us use that to call British Airways to rebook our flight. After securing a seat on the flight to Boston leaving Tuesday morning, the group of us decided we all deserved a drink and dinner. After about 14 hours in the airport, I was more than ready to head to the hotel. Praveen managed to jump the line for a cab (accidentally, but I wasn't going to complain) and then the cab driver told us the ridiculous amount it would costs us to get away from Heathrow--for me, the 5KM journey would cost me the equivalent of 50 dollars. Nothing like naming your price and squeezing all the money you can out of a bad situation.

I got to the hotel and collapsed. Not much excitement over the following two days, Sunday and Monday, except for me developing an unhealthy obsession with following the news, weather and frantically checking the Heathrow website to see if my flight was still a "go." As of Monday night, my flight to Boston was still scheduled to leave and the weather was looking promising. I woke up at 2:30 Tuesday morning and went online to check--still a go! I woke up at 6 on Tuesday morning and checked the Heathrow website--a pdf document listed all the flights that were going to leave Heathrow that day...my flight was not. on. the. list. Well. I called my airline and they told me my flight was still scheduled to leave so I decided that enough was enough. I was going to Heathrow and I was getting on an airplane and I was going to be in Canada by the end of the day or I was going to die (or end up on a no-fly list for the next 10 years) trying.

I got to Heathrow to see about 5,000 people in the terminal with hundreds of people asleep on the floor. I lined up (again) to get my boarding pass and I couldn't get the self-serve check-in to work. I flagged down an employee who then told me that my rebooked ticket hadn't been confirmed in the computer and I was, essentially, not going anywhere anytime soon. Somehow, he must have know the dangerous potential for the situation to become hysterical, because the man figured it out and printed me my almighty boarding pass. I was on the flight! I started chatting with a guy in the US Air Force and found out he was on the same flight as me, one row behind. We started hanging around together, standing in yet more lines and, in general, freaking out that we weren't going to make our flight. We were waiting to check our bags for so long, that we were pulled out of line and pushed to the front.

Next 45 minutes: check bags, run to security, through security, train to terminal, final boarding check--on the plane! At that point, I was excited, but trying not to get my hopes up. I had heard too many stories about flights that were taxied on the run-way and then pulled back and the people were told to get off and go home. My flight to Boston was one of 5 scheduled for that day and the only one to go out. An hour after our departure time, I finally took-off from Heathrow--I was on my way home! And in a seat upgrade to boot--thank you very much BA and, yes, I will take advantage of your complimentary bar service!

After becoming reacquainted with my good friend Bacardi, I landed in Boston and headed to my next terminal. While checking in, I was told that my connecting flight from Boston-Presque Isle hadn't been rebooked with my existing flight on Saturday. I'm not sure what the woman thought with me bursting into laughter at the counter, but, at that point, it just was too funny. Anything that could go wrong, did. Somehow, again, it got straightened out and I was given my almighty boarding pass. I went to my gate, 3 hours early and sat there, staring out the window at the plane to make sure it didn't leave without me. At 7PM that night, I was on my last flight home.

3 days, hours of waiting in lines, lots of tears and two flights later, I was on my way home. Getting off the plane in Presque Isle, I saw Dad, Susanne and Sarah waiting inside for me. I was home and I was so, so happy. The past couple of days haven't been too eventful--which is fantastic for me. Visiting family, eating, watching hockey again(!!), my first Tim Hortons in 4 months (AMAZING!!) and just generally loving being home.

Looking back over the time at Heathrow, I realize I was one of the lucky people who had a hotel room. There were thousands of people that just had no place to go and were sleeping on the marble floor of Heathrow for days on end. The airport had these yellow plastic raised platforms that people were sleeping on (lovingly nicknamed "banana boats") and were handing out blankets (after they ran out, people were given tinfoil emergency blankets), food (the packaged sandwiches from the airplanes) and bottles of water. It was just such a confusing few days...Terminal 1 & 3 were closed down to new arrivals--people weren't even allowed in the airport unless they were on a confirmed flight, Terminal 2 was shut down for construction, Terminal 4 was closed and Terminal 5 was running at 1/3 capacity. What is really frustrating about it all, though, is the fact that it snowed 10 cm on Saturday and that shut the entire city down until Tuesday, really. Heathrow is still not at capacity and will be a mess for the next week or more. I am so lucky that I got home and my deepest sympathy goes out to all the stranded people who will be spending Christmas at Heathrow airport.

And that, dear friends, is how this little Canadian found her way back home for Christmas. Merry Christmas!!

Never a Dull Moment...

For my under-age readers, this is your one and only warning. This post contains adult content.



...





I warned you.



So, the days are winding down before Christmas break and the atmosphere in the classroom is, naturally, slacking a little bit. It was only in 2nd period that I realized just how comfortable my students are with me.



3 quiet girls, who are oh so polite and nice to me in class.



"Miss?" They beckon me over
Me: "Yes??"
"What does 'cheuz' mean?"
Me: "Cheers?"
They repeat the word with several different inflections and pronunciations and me asking several different words: "Cheese? Chez? Jez?" (You may guess where this is heading right now..)
"No!" They say. "Like...in your pants. Jizz? Like jizz in your pants. We saw it on Youtube."
Me: "Oh dear God."

For any of you that are unawares, Andy Samberg and other Lonely Island boys made this music video called "Jizz in my Pants" that tells the unfortunate tale of a man who suffers from...premature ejaculation. And, apparently, this term "jizz" did not translate from American English into Her Majesty's English.

Well. Didn't we all just learn a fun little linguistic difference between England and Canada?

And the students were so curious as to why I couldn't stop laughing.

For Lack of a Witty Title...7 days to go!

So, here it is, 7:30 on a Saturday morning and I'm wide awake. Ugh. Why is it seemingly impossible for me to sleep in now? Most weekends, I am awake by 8, 8:30 at the absolute latest. Yes, it lets me get my shopping, errands, etc, done for the day early, but I miss being able to sleep in until 9:30 or 10, like I could do as a student. It's not for lack of exhaustion...at the end of each week, I'm ready to fall asleep at my desk by the end of the day.

It's now exactly a week until I will be home in Upper Knoxford and I'm thinking about how I felt, 3 months ago today (September 11). I thought I would never ever make it until Christmas. My job seemed too difficult, the kids too much to handle and home seemed so very, very far away. It's only been 3 months, but I can already sense a big difference. Instead of fighting me on every little thing, a group of my toughest students said they would miss me if I didn't come back from Canada after the Christmas break (a tempting thought at times).

I'm trying to figure out what it is, exactly, that makes teaching these kids so tough. I've been told that not all schools are like this, that not all British students make you want to pull your hair out. The students that make up the student body of my school come from really tough backgrounds and are, apparently, mostly "working class" (the British class system is something that I don't exactly understand yet and think it's a load of...well). The students that I teach, and at the Academy as a whole, are just more...vocal. More aggressive and argumentative. It doesn't help that lots of my students are bigger than me, and I look younger than some of the 6th-form students, but it's the same for most teachers. The students here are more likely to challenge us than the students I taught (albeit for a short period of time) back home. Whatever the differences are, I'm pretty sure that what I was told my very first day at the Academy is true: If I can survive here, I can survive anywhere.

One week left until I return home to Canada with a suitcase filled with more presents than clothes (including a jar of Marmite for my family to taste...and then destroy), lots of pictures and stories to share and a huge list of "to-do" things to accomplish while back home. Granted, most of those include drinking Tim Hortons and watching Hockey Night in Canada with my Dad so it won't be too stressful. I've been keeping an eye on the weather for back home, and I demand a white Christmas. If I do not get this white Christmas of my dreams that I have been building up in my mind since I boarded the plane for England back in August, I will be most upset.

Unfortunately, the England experience hasn't been as good for Joel. My roommate has not managed to land a job here as of yet and has made the difficult decision to move back to Canada. He's leaving on the 20th of December so, in the new year, it looks like I'll be flying solo. Joel, Zoe (a colleague) & I went out for supper and a movie last night. We went back to Red Hot, a world buffet that I went to with my English department, and then to The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader afterward. God, I love Narnia. When I get home, watching The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe will be in order. Along with drinking lots of Tim Hortons. By the time I get back in January, my blood will consist of mostly coffee.

7 days & counting!

ATTENTION!

10 DAYS LEFT!

That is all.

13 days & Counting!!

Almost into single digits now--can't wait to get home! I'm more excited for the holiday break than my students, I think. It snowed--less than an inch, and now it's all melted, but I was still so happy to see it in the morning! I've had a good week and am able to cross some things of of my "Living in England" bucket list. This list consists of all kinds of things I want to do/see/experience while living in England or while traveling in Europe.

First experience: Marmite. A colleague of mine was having some Marmite spread on cracker-bread and I decided...well. It's a very English food, why not try it! She spread some out, it looked to have the consistency of molasses. The tip of my tongue touched the brown stuff and I almost gagged. Never. Again. Marmite is one of those foods that you either love or hate--no middle ground. I am firmly in the "hate" camp. I can't even really describe the taste aside from really, really salty. Gross.

Fortunately, yesterday, I had a better experience with traditional English food. I went to London again with Angela and stopped at a pub for lunch. I tried the steak and kidney pie and found it was really, really good. Not quite up to the standard of my steak & Guinness pie, but still great. I'm trying to pump myself up enough to try tripe...or black pudding. I'm not sure I have the nerve for that quite yet.

London yesterday was great--incredibly crowded, but great. Angela & I went to Madame Tussaud's wax museum and had so much fun (As most of you who are reading this--if anyone is reading this--you are probably on my Facebook and can find pictures there). Some of the statues were so lifelike, it was incredible! My favourites...Winston Churchill (of course), Barack Obama, Robin Williams, Jim Carey and Shakespeare. Oh, and Patrick Stewart...just for fond memories. After the wax museum we went along Oxford Street, which is decorated so beautifully for Christmas. There are lights strung everywhere, evergreen boughs covering the sides of buildings, big Christmas-y figurines everywhere...beautiful :). After was lunch in the aforementioned pub, then to Tower Hill (where I had actual hot chestnuts that were roasted on an open flame!!) and onto Camden Market after that. It's a great open-air market similar to the old Halifax market, with venues both inside and outside with lots of street entertainers.

On Thursday night, my school held an advent Christingle service in the chapel and I was able to go to that as well. It was really nice. We sang some carols and lit the Christingle--which I had no sweet clue what it was before going. A Christingle is an orange, with a red ribbon tied around it, a candle pushed in the top of it and 4 toothpicks shoved in it with dried fruit, sweets and nuts on it. There is symbolism to each part of the Christingle and apparently it's a tradition going back hundreds of years in Europe. After the service, I tried mulled wine for the first time (not sold on that either, but a definite step up from Marmite) and mince pie. All of this makes me excited for my Christmas Eve service at home.

To end this post, some interesting questions/quotes I have gotten from my students:

Student: "How do you say hello in Canadian?"
Me: "Hello...eh."
Student: "Oh. It's the same...ok, well, how do you say goodbye?"

Student, during the 20 minute fire alarm outside in the snow and below zero temperatures: "Miss, you must love this! You're Canadian...you like being cold," he said, noting that I had to leave the school without outdoor shoes, gloves, coat or anything to keep me warm.

Student: "Canada. The country of snow."