Skiving off skiing (Courmayeur / London)

The oil company cohort I’d worked with as a temp in the summer found a skiing holiday deal that allowed the eleventh person to go free (of charge), and as it was in March as well, nearing the end of the skiing season, it was a deal I just couldn’t turn down.

Since I’d been a model student, going to every single lesson so far, I thought it might be all right for me to skip one week’s classes, as I’d be able to catch up, being the swot that I was.  (I hope my students are not reading this…)

After a week of being in the sun with sunglasses on, and being one to tan quickly, I acquired the nickname of Panda, so I couldn’t even hide my tan by covering up with clothes.  I didn’t own a balaclava at the time.

First day back at university, last week of term, I went really early to the classroom, choosing a seat right at the back in a corner.

The classical Chinese teacher, Mr. George Weys (d. 2019) called out each student in turn, getting them to read, then to translate. 

Finally, everyone had had a turn, and there was one sentence left.  

He looked around, and spotted me: “Ah, you’re back!”

They’d apparently been feeling very sorry for me throughout the week, thinking I must’ve been really ill to be missing a whole week’s classes.  Sheep*.

Then he said, “Oh!  I see where you’ve been.”  Gulp.  Double sheep. 

I did my sentence, and got one bit wrong, a hilarious mistake which had the teacher collapsing in a fit of giggles, covering his mouth with one hand, his face reddening from the effort of trying to control his giggles.  (Teachers are not meant to laugh at students’ mistakes.)

Lesson over, everyone got up to leave.  He called out to me, “Can you stay behind, please.  I need to talk to you.”

Oh dear.  I knew what it was going to be about.  I was going to be lectured on skiving off before the end of term, even though my attendance had always been punctual and my work exemplary — until just now, when I made that silly mistake, so skipping classes obviously affected my studies.

He waited until everyone had left, and there were only the two of us.  Obviously to save me face during the ticking off.

Mr. W:  “Where did you go skiing last week?”

Me:       “Courmayeur.” 

Mr. W:  “I’m going that way next week, and was wondering what the snow conditions were like last week.”

* For those who might need help:

sheepish (adjective)

showing or feeling embarrassment from shame or a lack of self-confidence, e.g., a sheepish grin.

(Courmayeur/London, March/April 1979)

See also The swing doors:  https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2011/07/swing-doors.html 

Update 230625: For those who might be interested, the white horse going past a gap sentence came from the 史記 / 史记 / Records of the Grand Historian text we were reading (留侯世家 /  / The Family of the Marquis of Liu / The House of the Marquis of Liu):

(Traditional script) 人生一世間，如白駒過隙

(Simplified script) 人生一世间，如白驹过隙

rénshēng yī shìjiān, rú bái jū guò xì

A lifetime in a human life is like a white horse going past a gap

but the original was in

(Traditional script)

《莊子·知北游》

人生天地之間，若白駒之過隙，忽然而已。

(Simplified script)

《庄子·知北游》

人生天地之间，若白驹之过隙，忽然而已。