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 SOAS (School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London), 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 be laughing at students, you see.
The bell went, and 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.”
(Courmayeur/London, March/April 1979)
(Courmayeur/London, March/April 1979)
Did you really make the silly mistake because you skipped class?
ReplyDeleteWell, I think being away did have something to do with it because I didn't prepare that passage well.
ReplyDeleteThe silly mistake was also silly because I'd mis-interpreted the word for "going past" as "going through". That last line in the section I was given to translate said: "Time moves really fast, like a white horse going past a gap". (A flash of white, you see.)
I analysed it as (translating aloud in class): "Time moves really fast, like a white horse -- pause as I couldn't understand the logic -- going -- pause -- through -- pause -- a gap??" (?? = my puzzled tone of voice), at the same time trying to imagine this horse trying to squeeze itself through this gap.
There was silence from the teacher, so I looked up from my passage. He was convulsed over his desk, face completely red with the effort of trying to control his giggles, one hand over his mouth, eyes two little slits with tears running down his cheeks.