Chess

I love playing chess. The older I get, the better I seem to be at it. I suppose I am a late-starter having played in my first ever tournament only a few years ago in my mid-forties. At that time I also narrowly missed getting a draw against a Grandmaster in an outdoor simultaneous exhibition in the very attractive surroundings of Olomouc town square.

However, in my formative teenage years I merely dabbled with the game, as I would with Ludo or Snakes and Ladders, but never seemed to do anything with it. It was just another board game. That was until I played a match with my friend, Steve, which must surely rank as one of the unknown classic matches of all time.

One evening in the pub (when I was about 20), we somehow got onto the subject of chess. Soon, the alcohol was talking and the gauntlet was inevitably thrown down by myself. We would have a chess match back at his home – a best of five games challenge. For such a serious contest, our preparation was somewhat lacking, and by the time we had arrived there, set up the board, and cracked open another can of beer in order to stimulate the thinking processes, we were both very tired and well on the way to being quite drunk. However, here I was playing an ex-school team member, no less, and I was a complete novice.

I calculated that Steve had probably had more to drink than myself. With every swig of beer that he had I sensed weakness. The smell of victory seemed to waft on the night breeze through the open window. This was surely my chance for glory. His scalp was for the taking. I rose to the occasion and took full advantage of Steve’s condition (by now he was dozing on and off), and surged into a two-nil lead. One more win and I would be the undisputed champion. I was home and dry; or so I thought...

It was then that Steve began to sense the urgency of his grave situation and woke up. Somewhere, in the deeper recesses of his pride, socks were pulled up and skates were put on as he roused himself to sobriety, whilst at the same time I began to flounder. My sharp edge was now blunted by the need for my brain to close down. It was well past midnight and the lure of sleep was proving too strong for any more concentration. In no time at all, Steve had pulled it back to two games all. We could have done the gentlemanly thing and agreed a draw; but we were young, we were stubborn, and there just had to be a winner. We blundered on, deep into the early morning hours. The call of sleep lured us into silent slumbers, and we were both reduced to waking each other up in order to make a move. Confusion set in when we both fell asleep at the same time. One of us would wake up, wake the other one up, then we would debate as to whose move it was, and then one of us would fall asleep again whilst waiting for the other one to make a move, which in due time they did, and then promptly fell asleep once more. The process was repeated again more than a few times...

I swear to this day that Steve had two or maybe even three moves in a row. I was convinced that I’d been robbed of a certain victory. Well, by now you’ve probably guessed the outcome of this match...

22nd December - ROLL ON SPRING DAY!

There it is! I have created a new Festival/Celebration/Holiday myself! The 'Roll on Spring Day' on 22nd Decemeber, for yesterday was the shortest, darkest day that we experience in the northern hemisphere...and we can at last begin to look forward to longer days - which will hopefully mean more daylight, more sunshine, less snow & slush...the beautiful birds returning & singing. This is a day of hope - the hope of things to come. Let it roll on!! Come on Spring!!
I am reminded of the song 'Undertow' by Genesis - especially the chorus:
"Let me live again, let life come find me wanting.
Spring must strike again against the shield of winter.
Let me feel once more the arms of love surround me,
Telling me the danger's past, I need not fear the icy blast again."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PwsaBX9sJ3s

The bitter and the sweet

About 3 weeks ago I came to work & heard the worst possible news...a student I knew from last year (Honza) had taken his life. He was only about 20/21, seemed to be a fairly level-headed guy - the only man in a class of young women...his future ahead of him...and in a few moments it was all over. I can only imagine what kind of thoughts drove him to believe the lies that they were, and that it was better if his life was over. When I watch "It's a Wonderful Life" this Christmas, I think it will be all the more poignant...
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0038650/

Needless to say, I was shocked & really not ready to teach. Withing 15 minutes of this news I was taking a class & marking them. Their theme was to create a festival/celebration/special day & to give a short talk about it. One young woman, Šary, did a talk based on 'National Hugging Day'. It was fun & creative...it helped to take my mind off the bad news I'd heard. But I was unprepared for the ending...She finished her talk & asked me to stand up. Having done so, she said to me, "Mr. Everill, you look sad today & I think you need this..." And with that, in full view of the rest of the class, she gave me a hug...It was all I could do not to cry!! I admire her boldness - no student has ever done such a thing to me in one of my lessons...indeed, even out of my lessons! But I considered it as a 'God moment'...for only God knew that I needed such a touch at that time. Powerful.

Future seminars that I am working on...

Very often, during or after a lesson, I get inspiration about exploring a certain topic...I reckon I need to write them down, perhaps as a reminder for myself, but maybe to provoke some feedback from any readers ;-)So, here goes...

Driving in Czech Republic:
I really think that such a topic is worthwhile, especially considering the apparent lawless attitude expressed by many drivers here - speeding, dangerous manoeuvers, selfishness, impatience, arrongance... Is the driving a reflection of the Czech character?

Why do students cheat?:
Indeed, why does anyone cheat? :-) What does cheating prove? Logic tells you 'nothing', only that you can cheat (though some are not always good at it!) - what does it profit a student if they cheat their way through their studies, get their diplomas etc...and then what? Everything is so false... Is there no actual value in studying anymore? :-)

The Soundtrack of your Life:
As I grow older, I realise that various stages of my life are connected with a certain song or piece of music. I think this would be a great lesson, even for young people, in which to express themselves in an imaginative way...maybe it's the tune, the lyrics, or just the 'feel' of the song at a particular time...? My sister, Gail, knew she was going to die (of cancer) & chose 3 songs for her funeral service, and believe me, for those of us who knew her, it WAS powerful...

Laziness:
Not just from a students point of view (though that is where I see the biggest evidence of this malaise!), but generally. What, if anything, can be done about it? Why is it so hard to fight it? To date, I've only ever heard one man (a preacher, and he was very good!) speak about it...and it touched a nerve in me & I believe such a message is important, especially for young lives...

There might be more ideas floating around in Clive-Space...but these will keep my juices going for now...I've got something to work on! :-)

When a man loses the will to live...

With each of my classes, I always begin the lesson by asking 'Tell me something interesting...' - some students struggle to find anything of interest in their lives (though sometimes with a gentle 'squeeze' from their friendly English teacher, something comes out of the toothpaste tube that is their memory!), some tell me something funny...and once in a while something 'hits you'. Such was the case this week with one of my younger classes. A young girl told me that her grandfather had died...at the age of 65. I commented that is was a fairly young age to die. She related how his wife had died back in August of cancer...barely 2-3 months ago. It seems that his whole world literally fell apart, for he took to drinking heavily & his health deteriorated...and then suddenly died.

Hearing this sad tale, I was reminded of something my wife told me from her job. When a man is told that he has cancer, the majority of them seem to give up completely and die without much fight...whereas women show more grit & determination & often live much longer than they were expected to. Indeed, I've come across such stories in some books too.

No easy answers...but I wonder why that is?

Where does a teacher get their inspiration from?

As most people know, I have not been a teacher all of my life, indeed, I got into it only fairly recently. My first teaching was about 7-8 yrs ago when I was working with Caritas in Olomouc with a Day Centre (for people with 'mental health' issues). I taught for once a week. Then I began to teach a small group (2-3 people) in Velka Bystrice...and so the snowball began to roll until I ended up in a full-time job (which I love) at the Slovanske Gymnazium.
I'm now into my 5th year of teaching - something that I never imagined that I'd be doing!! - and I've been thinking about which teachers have inspired me...a difficult question.

- Mr Clarke - when I was about 14-15 we were introduced to Mr Clarke in our English lessons at Castle Vale Comprehensive School in Birmingham. I remember that he got me interested in reading, writing, and thinking about life. I'm almost convinced that he was the only teacher who shared somethings about his 'private life', and he also gave us some advice about relationships. I enjoyed his lessons, but was sometimes afraid (as I was very shy then!) that he would get me to speak!

- Mrs Barnett - she was the wife of our strict headmaster, but she was the opposite to him! An elderly teacher, but she was kind & gracious - she was the first to tell me that I could write a good story :-) Indeed, under her tuition, I won a book in a competition!

But then there are some 'fictional characters' which have proved equally inspiring!

- John Keating (as played by Robin Williams) in Dead Poet's Society - a tremendous film & an inspirational character. Whenever I see this film, I can draw something from it & I guess that though I'll not be a 'Keating', I'll be myself...I shall suck the marrow out of life! :-)

- Mark Thackery (as played by Sidney Poitier) in To Sir With Love - I can relate a lot to this character...an engineer who ends up as a teacher (because he can't find anything else) & who becomes a success at it because he realises that the students need to be taught about life, and not what's in the textbooks. I never got a degree, finished studying when I was 16, and did all sorts of jobs...but eventually became drawn to working with needy people...and here I am, now over 50, and discovering that God has prepared me for this job...at this time! Amazing!

Of course, there were also some bad role models that served to warn me what I should not be like, but I prefer to focus on that which was good & which has helped me both to discover my (latent) gift, and hopefully to develop it. I really do believe that I could be even better :-)

What I think God is NOT like...

Many people ask the question, “If there is a God of love and he loves us, why is there so much suffering in the world?” Some might even wonder how I can put my trust in such a God when he has 'taken' my two sisters from me and the rest of my family...(One died aged 20 of a diabetes-related illness - the other died in her 40's of bowel cancer...)There are no easy answers, but to help frame a possible nudge in a good direction, I'm reminded of a sketch that I saw on TV, a long time ago...

There was a spoof on the old Channel 4 programme, ‘Right to Reply’, where viewers record a video clip relating to a programme that had been on TV, voicing their praise or criticism of what they had seen. In this sketch, someone was dressed up as God, complete with stereotypical long white hair and beard and flowing gowns. God was complaining about a programme that had defamed his character. As he was about to leave, he came back to the camera and said something which I think was very perceptive and insightful: “By the way – I’m sick and tired of all these whinging people who say, ‘If there’s a God of love up there, why does he allow so much suffering in the world?’ I’ll tell you why – because I’m a God – not a social worker! I can do what I want!”

There is a very substantial grain of truth in this, I believe... Isn’t that how many people perceive God to be (if he exists)? A sort of heavenly social worker; on-call to solve all of life’s problems and hassles, as and when needed. Kept in a very remote box until a crisis arises, and then we seek to manipulate him to look after our needs, and our needs alone; and usually forgetting to say ‘thank you’ if that cry for help is answered. For if everything works out fine…well, ‘we did rather well, didn’t we?’, we would say, with a self-congratulatory slap on the back. However, if everything goes wrong…well, God’s the one to blame!

Thought for the day - if there is a God, then he is a God – and NOT a social worker.

When life dumps on you...

The other week, I had a particularly busy day - one extra lesson with the WHOLE class (28 students) and then 2 lessons with the WHOLE class (of which I normally have half each)...I came home thinking that perhaps the deputies were dumping things on me - maybe taking advantage...Then I read this story in a book by Tony Campolo...

"A family had twin boys whose only resemblance to each other was their looks. If one felt it was too hot, the other thought it was too cold. If one said the TV was too loud, the other claimed the volume needed to be turned up. Opposite in every way, one was an eternal optimist, the other a doom and gloom pessimist.

Just to see what would happen, on the twins' birthday their father loaded the pessimist's room with every imaginable toy and game. The optimist's room he loaded with horse manure.

That night the father passed by the pessimist's room and found him sitting amid his new gifts crying bitterly.

"Why are you crying?" the father asked.

"Because my friends will be jealous, I'll have to read all these instructions before I can do anything with this stuff, I'll constantly need batteries, and my toys will eventually get broken." answered the pessimist twin.

Passing the optimist twin's room, the father found him dancing for joy in the pile of manure. "What are you so happy about?" he asked.

To which his optimist twin replied, "There's got to be a pony in here somewhere!"

And from this I learnt an important lesson - even if it feels like life is sometimes dumping (manure) on us...our attitude & response to such situations is cruical...we can be pessimistic, or we can believe that somewhere there is a 'pony' for us - something good & better that will come. As a Christian, I can also remain confident that NOTHING comes to me without first coming through God - NOTHING takes Him by surprise... :-)

Audience participation

A group of my students recently went to Prague for a few days. One evening they went to the National Theatre where some well-known actors & actresses were performing 'Waiting for Godot'. One of the students needed to go to the toilet, so he clambered over his classmates & teachers to get there during the performance...on his way back, he decided not to disturb people & made his way about 6 rows back, got comfortable...and fell asleep...
For the next 10 minutes he proceeded to snore - very loudly! It was so loud that the cast improvised & used the snoring as part of the play! Fearing perhaps, for the good name of our school, the teachers got a couple of students to go and wake him up. They did so, and as soon as he stopped snoring, there was a tremendous round of applause! :-)
"And the prize for the best snorer goes to..." ;-) His secret is safe here...for now!

A funny joke...

Reading about the Pope's visit to England reminded me of this joke:
Schultzy was a man who claimed to know everyone that was famous in the world. There wasn’t anyone he didn’t know. He would sit watching the TV with his friend, and someone famous like Madonna, would come on the TV screen and he would point and say, “Oh yeah, Madonna, I know her!” It would be the same for whichever star came on the screen. This behaviour drove his friend to distraction, and after enduring it for some time he decided that it was time to confront Schultzy about the unreality of his situation. “Schultzy, you’ve got to stop doing this! It’s not real. It’s not true. You do not know these people. It’s not possible. Just who do you think you are?” “But I do know them,” Schultzy replied. “No you don’t,” argued his friend, “You’re making it up. It’s impossible for you to know all these famous people. You’re just a nobody!” Schultzy was hurt, but continued protesting, “I’m sorry, but I do know them!” Then his friend had an idea. “I’ll tell you what, if I can prove to you that you don’t know any famous people, will you stop saying that you do?” “OK,” Schultzy pondered. “How do I prove it?” “I’ve got three chances,” his friend continued “I’ll name three famous people, and if I can prove that you don’t know at least one of them, then you will stop this nonsense. Agreed?” “Sounds simple enough,” said Schultzy, “Who’s first?” “President Obama! You can’t possibly know him!” “Sure I do!” exclaimed Schultzy, and off they went to the White House in Washington D.C. They knocked on the door, which opened, and there was President Obama. “Schultzy!” he cried, “How are you doing? Come in!” he said, ushering him in like a long lost friend. Schultzy’s friend was astounded. They had tea and cakes with Obama. It was surreal!

After they left, Schultzy’s friend said, “OK, you got lucky on the first one, but I’ve still got two chances. What about the British Queen, Elizabeth? You can’t possibly know her!” “Oh yeah, me and Queen Elizabeth go back a long way,” replied Schultzy. And so, they flew to London, got a taxi to Buckingham Palace, and went and knocked on the door. The door opened and there stood Queen Elizabeth, exclaiming, “Schultzy, it’s so good to see you. How are you?” As it was nearly four o’clock she invited them in for cucumber sandwiches and tea and cakes, and Schultzy’s friend was in awe as Schultzy and Queen Elizabeth talked about old times…

This was too much for his friend. “Schultzy, I don’t know how you do it, but I’m determined to prove that you can’t know everybody. I’ve still got one chance… What about the Pope? You can’t know the Pope, surely!?” “Oh yeah, I know the Pope,” Schultzy responded, very confidently. So they flew to the Vatican, but when they got there, Schultzy said to his friend, “You won’t be able to come into the Vatican with me, but I’ll go inside and see the Pope, and him and me will come out onto that balcony there, we’ll give a wave to you, and then we’ll go back inside and I’ll come down and meet you here.” “This I’ve got to see,” said his friend.

He waited outside, and sure enough it wasn’t long before Schultzy and the Pope appeared together on the balcony, arms around each others shoulders, waving to the crowds below. When Schultzy had finished he came out to meet his friend in the square, but couldn’t see him anywhere. Eventually, he came across a group of people gathered around someone lying on the floor - it was Schultzy’s friend. He’d fainted.
Schultzy helped revive him and said, “I’m sorry if the shock was too much for you, but I told you I really do know these people.” “It’s not that,” said his friend, “But when you and the Pope came on the balcony, all the people around me were saying, ‘Who’s that guy in the white with Schultzy?’!”

Further adventures in Kaufland...

Yesterday had seemed an uneventful trip, until I got home. I unpacked all the food & when I got to the yoghurts I noticed that one felt a bit lighter...on closer inspection I discovered that the lid had been opened & half of the yoghurt was missing...presumed eaten! OK, my mistake for not checking properly...but the more I think about it, the more bizarre this sitaution seems... It's like someone ate it there & then! They had a discreet little snack (svačinka), & then closed it back up to make it look like it was untouched. I wonder what other food has been tampered with there?? No...maybe I won't go down that road! :-)

When you can't find the words....

This was a gem...
Yesterday I was teaching the younger students in the French section. I'd asked them to learn some new vocabulary for their homework. Lubos came to the board and wrote 'imperfect' on it. I asked him to explain what it meant. He struggled to find the words - "I know what it means...but...hmmmmm..." "Ok," I said, "What does 'perfect' mean?" Again, another struggle - but once more he couldn't express himself. Suddenly, he went to his desk, picked up a cheap biro-pen, and came back to the front of the class. Holding the biro in his hand he said, "This is perfect...", then he snapped it in two! "This is imperfect!" I couldn't help myself laughing and congratulating his ingenuity & spontanuety & shook his hand. The class erupted into applause & laughter too. A classic moment!

An interesting way of learning a language...

Last week, I was meeting with some students at the Caritas organisation who will be working in the UK for 2 months. One girl was telling me how she used her English skills during the summer while she was doing her ironing! "I just speak English to myself," she said, "Talking about my day and so on." I commented that it was a cool way to do it, and perhaps it was just like praying. She replied, "Actually, I have also been praying in English because when I'm in England I will be staying with some 'sisters' (nuns), so I guessed it would be a good idea to learn how to pray in English. I suppose it's like 'praying in other languages'..."
I found this attitude very refreshing, even challenging (for me, as I learn Czech). It reminded me of when I worked at Caritas about 7 years ago, and I prayed with a young man who was having problems (he was a schizophrenic). I asked him if it would help if I prayed for him - as he told me he was a Catholic believer - he agreed...and so I did - in Czech! Grammatically, it was perhaps not one of my finest moments (I'd only been here for a couple of years) - but spiritually we 'connected' & I believe God gave him the peace that he needed just at that time...

Czechs at the checkouts

A weekly trip to one of the local supermarkets, 'Kaufland', has proved to an intersting & sometimes frustrating experince over the years that I have been living here. “Customer service” is an area with room for improvement here as a whole in Czech Republic, but moreso in “Kaufland”! If you are wheeling your trolley down an aisle and you come across a stacker who is in the act of stacking goods…then, you turn around and wheel back, and go all the way around to get to the other end of that aisle. Stackers are immovable objects. This is quite different to what I remember back in England, where not only the customer was 'right', but the customer was there to be served. Sadly, at Kaufland, I sometimes feel like I'm 'in the way' of the staff. Once I was looking for something which had been moved - (this seems to be part of a conspiracy by supermarkets all over the world, perhaps to prevent the early on-set of Alzheimers Disease...?!) and I came across a staff member who was concentrating on a clip board & a mobile phone at the same time...I asked where such & such was...without making any attempt at eye contact they replied - "Nemáme!" ("We don't have it!")

One of the worst days to go is when Kaufland has its 'special offers' (at the moment, Thursdays). Having been on this day at various times I came to the conclusion that it's best to go on another day! It seems that from when the doors first open at 7.00am, all day through, there is an endless river of customers...most of whom seem to be elderly, and who seem to thrive in rugby scrums as they grasp for the special offers! Trolly rage is a certainty! And I thought that this kind of behaviour was supposed to have finished with the fall of Communism back in '89... No. It is alive & well here in 2010.
 
And then after running the gauntlet you get to the checkout! It has to be said that Kaufland employs cashiers who are highly skilled and primed to operate at a ballistic speed. The rate with which they run your goods through the bar code scanner sometimes convinces me that tomorrow is most definitely not coming! No sooner have you unloaded your trolley, than it’s all been scanned, you’re fumbling for the money and trying to pack at the same time…and the next customer’s stuff is coming through too…and perhaps the one after, if he’s only got a couple of items! 

Then it's back to the car & unload the trolley & put it back in the storage space...but there's another problem, which I guess is a general human condition, not just a Czech one - laziness! There are usually 3 lines for the trolleys in the storage space...and you can guess which one people use - the longest one. A while ago I made a deliberate decision to walk the extra few metres to the shortest queue & park my trolley. Though there are some negative aspects to shopping at Kaufland, I can at least try to bring something positive there :-) Actually, I even believe (for now) it's one of the most important things that I can do - to be kind to the staff & customers there & make a difference...

Fun with English

A wet Tuesday morning...the last day of the school holiday for students...tomorrow they all come back & for those doing the last year the 'new maturita' awaits them...from my perspective it looks a bit of a nightmare. But I live in hope that something good will come out of it, and from my part, I will continue to do my best to provide fun & learning in my lessons :-)
It seems an age since the 'old' maturita exams back in May - but here's a selection of the more amusing moments which I collected from nearly 170 exams!

- "I like collecting hips in the summer" (she meant 'hops'!)
- "Olomouc is a hysterical city" (of course, she was looking for 'historical'...)
- "How is it, your passage?!" (the student was asking me a question about a trip that I'd had, but for an Englishman, such a phrase could be taken another way!! :D)
- "I like soup operas!" (I'm sure I don't need to explain that one!)
- "I like going to orphan festivals" (and maybe they play the 'organ' there ;-))
- I like beaucoup de things!" (this is one of the problems of doing a French exam just before!)
- "Brisbane is the captial of Australia & Quebec is in Australia too..." (thankfully, it was an English exam and NOT Geography!)
- "Muslims are south of the USA..." (yep, Geography was not strong with some of them!)
- "I went to the hospital and had 3 testys...!" (hmmmmm....)

And here is a selection of some of the deliberately amusing things that students said:
- (when talking about a band that she played in & whether she got nervous before a concert) "There are worse musicians than myself so I don't get stressed..."
- "British women are ugly" (a fairly forthright opinion freely expressed!)
- "A slap would work well at school!" (some of our students are NOT politically correct!)
- "Visiting in hospital is like going to a funeral..."
- "As Samuel Jackson said 'He who is tired of life is tired of London...'" (might have been great to hear Samuel Jackson say it...but it was Samuel Johnson ;-))
- "Floods...? They are a burning issue...." (perhaps not intended, but pretty cool!)

 I love my job!

The day of small beginnings...

Today is the day that I finally put finger to keyboard & decided to do something that I've been meaning to do for a long time...to begin a blog. Perhaps I'm way behind the times & such a thing is 'old hat' now...but here are my reasons for so doing:
- I love writing! It's something I need to work at & I hope that this blog will discipline me in being creative
- I love collecting & telling stories - I think most people like a good story, and I think I've got lots to tell
- I live in a wonderful country - Czech Republic - which has some interesting differences, which I hope to be able to relate
Time is short at this moment - I'm off to see 'Inception' for the 2nd time :-) A fascinating film with some deep themes...but this is the beginning - a small one, but like all ventures, we have to begin somewhere. This is the first footprint on the cybersand of an unknown beach I have found myself on...so, let's see where it goes ;-)

Clive