about time I suppose!
So, Madrid. Been to see some great places including Toledo, partied in many a bar and enjoyed tapas-hopping, and my spanish is coming along slowly. Wherever i end up i'll be working on improving that. It's 9.29pm here, a normal day at work, and i'm off to see Primal scream on friday, which i'm really looking forward to.
Met some great people from all walks of life, including history-loving american majors, stereotype sheila-stating Australians, and a few Canadians with too much facial hair. Kiwis who chat to me in Japanese. Irish guys with odd hairstyles. Old school english gentlemen. Hot Scots. Spanish who can't get their head around regular verb past 'ed' endings i.e the stereotypical 'it's complicate'.
The job has improved somewhat; It's easier once you know the metro, although the hours can be an absolute pain sometimes. Most of the students are fine and rather varied, among some l'oreal managers and government president types on my timetable. A slight difference to kids!
The people I work with are perhaps the most eclectic bunch to be thrown together, but they're really good fun. Now people are settling there's a better sense of a social group and life seems more fun.
But I still can't work out those blasted spanish verb endings!
The first poem i've had inspiration to write in years.
So.. i'm working in madrid.
The hours are ridiculous and in split-shifts; the prep and paperwork required usurps most of the weekend, and you collapse into bed at 8pm some weekdays, but why should I complain?
Outside my flat (gorgeous) there are skips we use to chuck in random rubbish. every day without fail i see people rooting through the remains of the skip, flat refuse and my bag of rubbish filled with diet coke cans and the occasional noodle packet.
These people are so poor that, dragging a dirt-incrusted trolley behind them, anything can be of use. I even saw a urine soaked and smelling mattress, full of holes and stained with all manner of things, vanish into one of the said trollies.
I'm feeling not so much homesick as sad at my own reflections; that i feel within my selfishness i have a right to moan when there are people living like that right outside my doorstep. I can't settle in madrid, feeling i have left things unfinished in the uk and being unsure whether i will have paid off any debt at all by xmas, but also the guilt trip is quite profound. I could afford a trip back to see the folks; these people couldn't afford clothing.
Perhaps i should move into charity work..
Listening to: Curse of the Dragonflies - Leon's Revenge
After returning and single handedly causing chaos across 4 countries... here is the recipe:
Step 1. Book a late flight with Flybe online.
Step 2. Have no printer but take down the confirmation number only.
Step 3. Get to check-in, cause chaos as you're not on the system.
Step 4. Leave Check-in 30 minutes later, on the system.
Step 5. Board plane.
Step 6. Make sure baggage are not told about the 'extra passenger' who paid but booked late enough to not be on the system.
Step 7. Make the plane 72 minutes late to depart due to an 'extra' bag (which obviously must be a bomb) - resulting in frog marching all passengers off to personally claim all luggage.
Step 8. Take off.
Step 9. Get back to the UK.
Step 10 and beyond: Cause delay on the plane that after the UK should be going to Bergerac; when it gets there late have the return cancelled as well as the following day due to flight slots, plus delaying 2 other flights due to late departure. causing problems in Austria, UK, France and a German flight.
Flybe cost me £70; I cost them £Thousands.
Priceless. Serves you right for putting a crying baby near me.
****
Madrid on the 14th.
Listening to : stonesour - xxyz rd
So, as i'm sitting in Saltzburg airport, waiting for a plane I, by rights, shouldn't be on, a coffee and ipod for company, and wondered about the transient nature of airports.
For some, just a means of business and travel, some - escape, some - just a job. To me, I always have a trance of sadness in them. Waiting - waiting for what? Just for the gate to come up. Some people are embracing, saying goodbye, others are hissing in impatience over delayed flights, for me, the amount of airports i've been in, it's transient nature is almost commonplace. The coffee is overpriced, the uniformed staff occasionally seen dashing about in a state of panic wear the same expressions, and the souvenirs are all brought in aimed at non-budget fliers.
Although, sometimes, the unexpected takes place. Like recieving a text from someone you never thought to hear from again - which makes you forget (or perhaps emphasizes?!) where you are for a split second. Or the person next to you as you arrive back who obviously isn't expecting someone to be there and drops their bag and makes a running leap. Or the guy that gets hauled off by security for refusing to stop smoking in the departure lounge.
Strolling out of the school grounds to snatch a quick 'Similar' Cigarette (the smokeless version of something pretending to be one, a popular choice of Ryaniar bucket-and-spade travellers) - in other words, a teacher requiring an excuse to get off the grounds, have a fake smoke (due to half-inclination quitting urges which will most likely turn to dust once i get to madrid) and a need to escape for 5 minutes from one class swinging off the ceilings and having chalk wars to another class of seemingly automatons with no voice capabilities installed, the small of fermenting pig excrement is enough to turn one's stomach. It hits you hard in those moments.
The gymnasium i'm at this week is typically Austrian; crisp white buildings with a bizarre range of bright, block colours in the windows obviously designed by an architect on magic mushrooms. This one is science specific- in other words, the students have the enthusiasm for languages of an empty packet of crisps and a half-eaten chocolate bar between them on a good day. Getting blood from a rock is an understatement.
Vocklabruck itself is a back-end-of-nowhere town where i and a collegue appeared to be a fascinating sideshow; in the same way if you walk around Baku people dash to have a gawk at these odd people speaking another tongue.
There's a rather scary caretaker whom i nicknamed 'Filch' due to his ability to leap out of dark corners, scream and vanish again, potentially to find a cane. His beady eyes are cushioned by rolls of fat and excess amounts of wiry hair, who had a habit of barging into classes, bellowing at the students and running away again. All he was missing was the cat.
Just a brief note on my encounter with a Wasp of a till-slave-lady in Vocklabruck, Austria at the Penny Market (the equivelent of Morrison's with an addition of rather interesting cannabis-laced iced teas on sale). After a seemingly innocent purchase of orange juice and cereal bars to eat in the dead of night at my mosquito-ridden hotel, I requested a bag to carry said purchases within on the trudge home.
I recieved a look of intense disgust, with a thick, ring-laden pudgy sausage finger stabbing first in my face, then with a gutteral spitting curse in German it revolved to some dusty bags concealed within the gloom under the till.
The sheer snarl I recieved made me wonder as if by not understanding her instructions I had unwittingly contaminated the shop by my mere presence and inability to speak a language which is by no means widely used around the world.
"You are all, as a whole, a class.
Individually, you are a unit.
The ones of whom i remember the name are the disruptive idiots... believe me, a unit is the best you want to be."
listening to : mundy - galway girl
Ok.. so some work, brief teaching contracts sorted out. from the end of the month:
one week in austria
one week in italy
one week in poland
then one week back in austria
by the time all that's done it takes me nearly into october, so hopefully i can find a contract abroad to start then.
screw this country.
:)
Just finished my post at summer school in Bristol - 6 weeks at a 400 strong school crammed with italians, spanish and the occasional french and czech.
I say i won't go back .. every year .. and then i do. Have to say it's a hard job but you always meet some fantastic people there, and bristol was nice to work in for a change of scenery.
the current scenario is job hunting whilst hiding under a crevice in London. kent or abroad, lucky dip depending on what i'm offered first.
Listening to: I no speak Americano -
love it.
Low Morale is a set of flash animations about a man, who having jumped into the hell-like maw of the workplace deals with the scenarios we are all familiar with.. and think about! My favourite is 'Fire me.'
I've just started a new art project after a relevation outside waterloo station, frappacino and cigarette in hand.
Wandering over to central london this morning, A2 sketchpad on an easal (why can i never spell that correctly), i asked people on the street to write down their current thought on the pad.
Some of the responses included:
-666
-I hate my father
-Nothing is so shit than realizing in the middle of an argument with your boss that you're wrong.
-I told the loan shark where she was :)
-Rabbits scare me
-I want to fly a plane... kind of hard when i have a prosthetic arm!
and my personal favourite: "I'm currently on ket as it makes my shit job FUN"
Pictures on the way. I'll be doing the same in Bristol, Brighton, Canterbury, Oxford and Stratford over the summer.
It has the look of a place under massive construction, and although you can hear faint azerbaijani/turkish music in the air, it's often drowned out by the cacophany of bangs, whistles and shrieks of building work. Since the influx of money from the oil business, it looks like it's trying to become the next Dubai - with many new hotels being built.
Baku itself is another name for the 'windy city' - and it certainly is that! There's a constant keening of wind, but it can be a mercy given the sometimes oppressive heat. The air tastes cleaner than i expected, although the dust can play havoc with eyes unused to it.
When i first arrived, i walked along the 'promenade' - a type of pier in the national seaside park near my hotel. It struck me as a stone walk cutting into the Caspian, with iron piping, curling and jutting from the sides in grotesqeue, rusty shapes, which people sat in between whilst fishing. Even though they know, due to the Caspian sea's oily state and the industry which sometimes turns the water a murky brown, will only give them small prizes at best, it's a much-loved passion of many Azeri. The water sparkled, not only due to the glaring sun in a piercingly clear sky, but also with vestiges of oil that escaped the rigs.
It's a strangely beautiful place, with both ancient architecture and modern buildings rampant, although it doesn't seem to know 'what it is' in this state of construction and conversion, with rapid changes leaving many Azeri out of work no matter the education, especially if you don't wish to work in the oil and gas business.
If you decide to venture to the 'old city', or beyond into the less developed areas of Baku (pronounced B'Ku) there is a lingering sense of the Soviet, whether in tall, battered appartments, or sometimes even a chance phrase an Azeri might say to you. The poverty is also still there, and there is a huge contrast between the 'new' and 'old' city - the former conforming to western ideas, whereas the latter is dusty, cramped, and has rows of brickwork and graffiti (although i found this area more interesting to walk around in than the new city). It hasn't fully recovered, but appears to be trying to attract western tourism in order to promote economic growth, especially within their Capital. The Azeri people are also quite sensitive (as we found to our detriment) and relations with Armenia are frought with tension.
I also found, as a sidenote, there are many differences in Western and Azeri culture. The people are friendly and i've often caught students staring (because 'i have green eyes' apparently) and i've been asked a fair few times in my first days here whether i am married. Although the shift has gone from being married at 18/19 to 25-30, it's an expected aspect of Azeri culture, with divorce (esp. for women) and boyfriends frowned upon. There are also, especially in the classroom, banned subjects of course - such as politics, god, and relationships.. and you don't quite know whether to tell the truth when a student asks if you've eaten pork.
I thought Italian drivers were maniacs until i came here - where traffic signs are ignored, we saw a bus crash within a few hours at a junction, and there is a constant blaring of horns and Azeri insults anywhere near the centre. So advice if you come here - tag an Azeri to cross the road, or run and hope.
I left my job today. Was a bit of a .. (well.. huge) shock for the company in question, but it was for the best. But now that gives me leave to really focus on what i want to do.
************
Projects on the go!
Keith Stewart, journeyman training
Sugar and spice massage
Accidental collective
Tom Collins Live
Want to get added to the list? Check out my website and give me a shout!
Phew! Translation and creation of mirror sites takes longer than you think.. especially when you have the fluent ability in other languages of a rock. Anyway, marlowe english is an awesome summer school and i think you should visit it (not just to graze over my website abilities!) If you know any foreign students who would like a fantastic summer experience learning English in the UK, send them there!
www.marloweenglish.com
As i prefer designing for the smaller business, i have been getting a fair few projects rolling my way which is excellent. The latest to be completed is 1Electrics.com, a sole trader electrician.
www.1electrics.com
www.1electrics.co.uk
If you're interested in a site, take a look at my site and give me a buzz!.
Internet explorer is the bane of my life.
Any layout you create, whether it be psd, flash, html, css or otherwise based, will ALWAYS be buggy in IE.
Then you spend hours trying to find the source.
Sheesh.
Mozilla and Chrome all the way.
The aim of seo is to maximise targeted types of valuable traffic to a website from search engines by improving the visibility of the website in search engine rankings; particularly Google, yahoo, and potentially Bing.
The amount of times i have a client say:
"I want a good website, and I want to be on the top in Google within a week, that ok?"
I wish i could! But it doesn't work that way. Everything has to flow smoothly, and great, fresh content, good optimisation, and indexing all play a part. Link building (the more links to your site, the better), avoiding techniques that may get you blacklisted (ever seen those sites with reams and paragraphs at the bottom of the page full of keword spam?) need to be taken into consideration.
SEO isn't just about getting to the top; that could be done quickly using the wrong techniques - but keeping there. Fresh, active content, subscribers, and an accessible site all give you brownie points in Google.
SEO is not just about being technically minded; you need to consider all the marketing elements. SEO is in constant evolution - stop thinking about it and unless you're a huge company like amazon or adobe with a billion links everywhere, then you're liable to lose places.
You need to analyse competition, use your analytics programs, and convert that following traffic to sales.. which nets you profit.
SEO is not a free item. It can take anything from months to years for a result - and there are never any guarantees, ever.
So please, an SEO techie isn't just for Christmas.
