... it is now.
Wednesday - exams finished, final school trip cancelled, remnants of more than a couple of wsiekłe psy still dancing around the old bloodstream bearing witness to the past 24 hours of post-exam release.
Back to the old freelancer life - a full day's work without stepping out of the front door (or changing out of my pyjamas), at least six dirty tea mugs in the sink, a leisurely jog before lunch, an afternoon trip to Alma for expensive pickled things in jars and stinky foreign cheese, rounded off by a relaxing evening at salsa class.
Or so I thought.
With about fifteen minutes to go before the end of the lesson, our instructor called a halt and started to explain to us that we'd reached the end of the beginner courses and it was now time to move on to the next level, the 'Open' class.
Fair enough. We'd spent the whole evening trying to learn a particularly complicated figure involving two spins and a 'butterfly' (it took me a long time to work out that the names of these moves are actually English). It had been a long week and my head was reeling, with Polish grammar, Polish vodka and French translation.
But wait... what was he saying now?
- I'll dance with the girls, and Ola will test the guys.
'Test'?!
I caught the word 'egzamin'
- Excuse me, but do we have an exam tonight?!
It would seem so.
- But... I didn't know! I haven't studied!!
The hall rang with the by now oh-so-familiar sound of Polish laughter.
- Spoko, nie stresuj się!
(these are the two most ominous phrases in the Polish language. With the possible exception of 'Ale... wie Pani co...?)
Of course the instructor danced with me first. He spoke very fast, the music was loud.
It went a little something like this:
music
raz, dwa, trzy... pięć, sześć, siedem...
- Put your elbows down! You're going to do some damage to some poor guy!
music, raz, dwa, trzy...
- Keep the turns neat and quick!
more music
- Try to dance in a straight line!
pięć sześć, siedem...
- You know what... maybe the Open class would be a bit hard for you. I think you should repeat level 3.
Guess what? I've learnt something. Polish grammar is easy. Polish vocabulary is not too hard either. Polish exams... a piece of cake.
But salsa? Now that's really tough.
Showing posts with label salsa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label salsa. Show all posts
Sunday, 21 June 2009
Friday, 17 April 2009
Happy Post!
See, we're off to Budapest for the weekend (must charge camera) and I don't want my blog to be left open at 'discrimination' and 'xenophobia' for the weekend, so I'm going to write a Happy Post, full of Cheerful Things.
1) Chocolate: I finished all the Easter chocolate (already), and I'm on a sugar high.
2) We had a conversation class on the European Union this morning. Topics for discussion were suggested by members of the class at the beginning of term and this was one of mine (note there was no limit given to the amount of things we want to discuss, and I'm argumentative). In line with the plan, at ten on a Friday morning no-one else had anything to say on what is basically a very boring topic, so I was able to enjoy the sound of my own misplaced końcówki for almost an hour and a half.
3) Salsa dancing: salsa is great, we go to these salsa dance nights and dance with strange men (mostly computer scientists... oh crap, I forgot to finish that post) and after class we have started going to the pub with Real Polish People who speak to us in Real Polish (with końcówki).
4) Twitter: I'm wondering whether or not to sign up to this. It sounds like a lot of extra effort but it would be well worth it to be able to subscribe to Stephen Fry's succinctly witty Tweeting. I found out that there is a Polish version called 'Blip' (Bardzo Lubię Informować Przyjaciół), but I wonder whether this has the same implications in terms of sharing news. The now well-known example is that of the plane landing in the Hudson, which was posted on Twitter by a bystander from his camera phone, long before CNN had got the story. If the service only runs in one country, surely the potential for promotion and networking - at international level - is hindered? (although obviously it's much better at national level, language being the same, greater incidence of local people signing up, etc.).
5) Taxes: I may have to do a tax declaration for the four months I worked in Poland last year (although hopefully I'll get a rebate, since I spent the rest of the year in the UK and my company, such as it is, is registered there). More importantly, this means that I will have to visit the Urząd Skarbowy, which should be hilarious and very blog-inspiring.
6) Did I mention that we're going to Budapest tonight?
1) Chocolate: I finished all the Easter chocolate (already), and I'm on a sugar high.
2) We had a conversation class on the European Union this morning. Topics for discussion were suggested by members of the class at the beginning of term and this was one of mine (note there was no limit given to the amount of things we want to discuss, and I'm argumentative). In line with the plan, at ten on a Friday morning no-one else had anything to say on what is basically a very boring topic, so I was able to enjoy the sound of my own misplaced końcówki for almost an hour and a half.
3) Salsa dancing: salsa is great, we go to these salsa dance nights and dance with strange men (mostly computer scientists... oh crap, I forgot to finish that post) and after class we have started going to the pub with Real Polish People who speak to us in Real Polish (with końcówki).
4) Twitter: I'm wondering whether or not to sign up to this. It sounds like a lot of extra effort but it would be well worth it to be able to subscribe to Stephen Fry's succinctly witty Tweeting. I found out that there is a Polish version called 'Blip' (Bardzo Lubię Informować Przyjaciół), but I wonder whether this has the same implications in terms of sharing news. The now well-known example is that of the plane landing in the Hudson, which was posted on Twitter by a bystander from his camera phone, long before CNN had got the story. If the service only runs in one country, surely the potential for promotion and networking - at international level - is hindered? (although obviously it's much better at national level, language being the same, greater incidence of local people signing up, etc.).
5) Taxes: I may have to do a tax declaration for the four months I worked in Poland last year (although hopefully I'll get a rebate, since I spent the rest of the year in the UK and my company, such as it is, is registered there). More importantly, this means that I will have to visit the Urząd Skarbowy, which should be hilarious and very blog-inspiring.
6) Did I mention that we're going to Budapest tonight?
Sunday, 1 March 2009
Dydd Gŵyl Dewi Sant
Phew it's been a little while.
I'm finding that after all perhaps I'm not able to continue translating away as usual while attending classes during the day and trying not to forget my zadanie domowe.
The past two weeks have seen me at the computer well into the evening most days, and it seems I can't do the one without affecting the other: silly errors creep into my work and I blabber out the wrong verb ending in grammar classes. Of course neither of these indicate the end of the world - but my feeling that I only exist to work and no longer have any time to do the things that make me an independent human being does. It is time to get organised.
But first, I have a confession to make.
In my first week back in Kraków, I went on a Big Adventure: I followed my flatmate to her salsa class and sat on the bench watching. All those couples, lined up around the room, rocking back and forth to the rhythm of the music*... before long I was tapping my feet and swaying along with them.
Three weeks later and I've (full of nervous excitement) signed up for a class myself.
Not the same one as my flatmate of course, she's on poziom 3, while I'm only 'podstawowe'. We do have one thing in common though: both of us dread that moment immediately after the warm-up and initial solo work, when everyone pairs up and the dance instructor's voice rings out with the hated words:
Kto nie ma partnera??
Then we look at the floor, or up at the ceiling, or at something very interesting on the far wall of the dance studio, or - when I'm feeling brave - at the other one or two ladies who happen to be unaccompanied on that particular evening.
Yes, I'm afraid it's true. The social depravity of your humble author knows no bounds. Not only does she engage in the highly inappropriate practice of Speaking Polish with other Foreigners**, oh no, worse still! On a regular basis she breaches the golden benchmark of social good taste:
Being a single woman at a salsa class.
Think about it. What normal guy goes to dance classes, except under duress and on the end of a short lead pulled by his girlfriend? For a girl to show up on her own at a dance class and knock the numbers out of shape is not only inappropriate, why, it's just plain rude!
Fortunately the whole process works on the basis of rotacja. There's no point learning to dance with just one person, in the same way that you have to learn to play on different pianos, work with different interpreting systems and change your socks from time to time. Every few bars the guys move on to the next girl and I get hazy flashbacks to alcohol-fuelled university ceilidhs (or perhaps the Ukrainian Man-snatching dance)
Effectively this means that I spend two evenings a week dancing with Other People's Boyfriends.
They usually look more nervous than I do about the whole endeavour.
Anyway, it's going well, and I can do three steps now (two of which involve turning around). I practice in front of the kitchen window in the dark, while the cat dashes itself against the table legs in excitement.
Some day I hope to take my new-found skills to a dance club... but not until I've finished my Polish homework.
*generally a bizarre Latino version of Coldplay's Clocks
**when the other linguistic options are Japanese, Hungarian or American, I think you can see my point.
I'm finding that after all perhaps I'm not able to continue translating away as usual while attending classes during the day and trying not to forget my zadanie domowe.
The past two weeks have seen me at the computer well into the evening most days, and it seems I can't do the one without affecting the other: silly errors creep into my work and I blabber out the wrong verb ending in grammar classes. Of course neither of these indicate the end of the world - but my feeling that I only exist to work and no longer have any time to do the things that make me an independent human being does. It is time to get organised.
But first, I have a confession to make.
In my first week back in Kraków, I went on a Big Adventure: I followed my flatmate to her salsa class and sat on the bench watching. All those couples, lined up around the room, rocking back and forth to the rhythm of the music*... before long I was tapping my feet and swaying along with them.
Three weeks later and I've (full of nervous excitement) signed up for a class myself.
Not the same one as my flatmate of course, she's on poziom 3, while I'm only 'podstawowe'. We do have one thing in common though: both of us dread that moment immediately after the warm-up and initial solo work, when everyone pairs up and the dance instructor's voice rings out with the hated words:
Kto nie ma partnera??
Then we look at the floor, or up at the ceiling, or at something very interesting on the far wall of the dance studio, or - when I'm feeling brave - at the other one or two ladies who happen to be unaccompanied on that particular evening.
Yes, I'm afraid it's true. The social depravity of your humble author knows no bounds. Not only does she engage in the highly inappropriate practice of Speaking Polish with other Foreigners**, oh no, worse still! On a regular basis she breaches the golden benchmark of social good taste:
Being a single woman at a salsa class.
Think about it. What normal guy goes to dance classes, except under duress and on the end of a short lead pulled by his girlfriend? For a girl to show up on her own at a dance class and knock the numbers out of shape is not only inappropriate, why, it's just plain rude!
Fortunately the whole process works on the basis of rotacja. There's no point learning to dance with just one person, in the same way that you have to learn to play on different pianos, work with different interpreting systems and change your socks from time to time. Every few bars the guys move on to the next girl and I get hazy flashbacks to alcohol-fuelled university ceilidhs (or perhaps the Ukrainian Man-snatching dance)
Effectively this means that I spend two evenings a week dancing with Other People's Boyfriends.
They usually look more nervous than I do about the whole endeavour.
Anyway, it's going well, and I can do three steps now (two of which involve turning around). I practice in front of the kitchen window in the dark, while the cat dashes itself against the table legs in excitement.
Some day I hope to take my new-found skills to a dance club... but not until I've finished my Polish homework.
*generally a bizarre Latino version of Coldplay's Clocks
**when the other linguistic options are Japanese, Hungarian or American, I think you can see my point.
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