Was nichts kostet, ist nichts wert.

This is a German saying that translates as "what costs nothing is worth nothing".

I am reminded of this every Monday when I get just between one and three takers for my free English practice sessions, now that the two exam preparation courses have come to an end.

As so many events are no longer available and as the relaxations of the lockdown restrictions only came into being two weeks ago, I started offering my former students the chance to log into the usual website once a week to keep up their English a bit during the long summer break. And it would cost them...nothing. They seemed to welcome the idea.

I had good attendance rates in my classes, but now that I am offering something for nothing...it seems that most people aren't interested. Weird or what?

Maybe they believe what the German adage says: what costs nothing is worth nothing. Was nichts kostet, ist nichts wert.

My shameful literary prejudices

For many years now, I've asked people who their favourite author is or what their favourite book was. When I was working in London, I asked the Irish-born P.A. of our sister company, Sinead D., and she recommended Anthony Trollope (a distant relative of the modern writer Joanna Trollope).

Over the years, I have heard many dramatisations of his works - his clerical and his political series - on BBC radio. Since BBC Radio 4 extra (formerly BBC 7) is an archive radio station, broadcasting repeats, I've often heard these series three times or more. And I always thought that they were slightly boring. Not very interesting. And I decided that I would save Anthony Trollope for my retirement, which is quite a way off. 

In the summer of 2016, I decided that I would try one of this books: The Warden. It is the first in Trollope's church-based series. And I was bowled over by it. Why? Because you hear Trollope's voice talking to you two centuries later. His sarcastic comments appeal to me. You can't help curling your lip when you read his descriptions of certain people. 

Last year, one thing that kept me sane was reading "A Trollope a Month". Thanks to the university library and this online book repository for out-of-copyright books, this was easy to do: https://www.globalgreyebooks.com/index.html

This year, after running out of books by Trollope, I decided that one of my reading challenges would be "A Dickens a Month".

I'm using the Global Grey e-book site to download books by Dickens and I'm working my way through them from the oldest to the most recent. Barnaby Rudge was a pleasant surprise and quite exciting. The Old Curiosity Shop had some interesting characters. But June's book was Dombey and Son.

And this is where my second literary prejudice comes up. Many years ago, I caught a couple of episodes of a BBC dramatisation of this series and was interested because one of the characters was acted by Paul Darrow, or Avon from the TV sci-fi series Blake's 7. However, I switched off halfway through episode two. Too boring.

Now I had to read it and it was with some reluctance that I started. Reader, I loved it. One thing about Dickens is that there are always some good characters to counteract the scoundrels and in this book, those characters - besides the poor, sickly 'son' of the title - include Florence, Captain Cuttle, Miss Tox, Susan Nipper, Richards and Mr Toots. Lovely characters all, in their individual way.

And I even felt sorry for Mr Dombey. Who knows what his upbringing was like? And at least he experiences redemption in the end. What's not to like about a happy ending? I feel ashamed that I was so prejudiced against this book for so long.

If I had to choose between Dickens and Trollope, though, I would choose Trollope - simply because the characters are not so 'larger than life' and because I love the way Trollope thinks and comments on his characters' thoughts and deeds.

A final good thing about the pandemic

I did say that I had counted three good things to have come out of the pandemic - for me, at least.

The third and final thing has been my experience of teaching English online. I had always been very sceptical and reluctant to do so, thinking that the classroom experience was the best for learning.

However, since I've been forced to use various video conferencing systems this year, I've become more relaxed about them. Skype for my private students, Zoom for the monthly story time session I do (not strictly teaching, I know) and the Big Blue Button for my evening classes, I'm getting use to what they can do.

What I find good about using these things to teach is that, when I am old and not working full time, I can teach rich Chinese and Japanese people English online. I have plenty of experience with Japanese people, and some experiences of Chinese and Korean children, so if I can't cope financially on my UK pension and savings, I can sleep easily, knowing that I'll be able to earn money from the comfort of my own home.

I'll just have to be careful about the time difference between Germany and Asia.

Another good thing about the pandemic

Since I reckon I've had the virus twice (March/April 2020 and Christmas to 11 Jan. 2021), I'm refusing to use public transport. 

This has, therefore, greatly restricted my world and I mostly walk around the periphery of the large park near me (circumference just over 5 km) or , at the weekends, to the Rhine and back (6 km in total). 

In order not to get completely bored, I vary the route. Sometimes, I even enter courtyards to see what there is there - and am surprised by what is tucked away behind the buildings that face the street. I also go down side streets and alleyways, through parks I normally only pass by and again, I am amazed by what I find there. 

Today, I decided to go out on my bike. I don't normally use the bike as I think walking is the better exercise. 

I had a vague idea of going to Benrath and round the Urdenbacher Kämpe, but I went down roads I'd never been before out of sheer curiosity, found areas that were surprisingly lovely (I had thought that that area would be grim and industrial) and then discovered that I had found a third way to get to Himmelgeist, which is a delightful little district as it is on the Rhine. I arrived there at about 8.45 a.m. and I rolled my jeans up, took off my socks and shoes, paddled in the Rhine and walked up and down the sandy shore. 

A chat with a young fisherman casting his line, 10 minutes spent watching mama duck and 7 ducklings paddle around near the shore and even come on land for a while to nibble at heaven knows what, another chat with an older lady and minutes just spent sitting and listening to the water lap against the shore, it was bliss.

One good thing about the pandemic

I have come to the conclusion that there are three good things to come out of this time of lockdown.

Firstly, there is the fact that my dermatitis herpetiformis (no, nothing do do with herpes) has nearly cleared up completely. This is because I don't eat out any more so prepare all my own meals.

Normally, I eat my 'red Thai curry with tofu' (which I also call 'medicine on a plate') at Saturday lunchtime. Sadly, the place had to move out of the building because it was closed and I don't know if they've been able to open a new place, what with everything being shut for 7 months. 

I don't even indulge in the occasional portion of chips in the Altstadt. 

This means there is no cross-contamination when I choose a meal that is naturally gluten-free, and they cook it in woks that have previously had noodles or breaded products in them. Or the chips are fried in fat that have had something with gluten fried in them. 

The skin on my legs, therefore, looks better than it has done in the last decade or more. At least the pandemic has been good for that, then.

How does technology know the right time to strike?

I find it strange. There, I am, watching some TV programme streaming live on a TV channel online and just when it gets to the point that the entire crime is going to be explained...that's when the image freezes and when the streaming service recovers, a minute or two has gone by and the entire explanation is over and you are no wiser.

Or I'm listening to the radio online and just when it gets to the last few minutes of a radio play, the computer freezes and I have to restart the entire computer. By the time I've switched the radio back on, a new programme has started. 

How does technology know the right time to stop working? Just when it gets to the interesting point in the programme, whether on the radio or on TV, it goes on strike, spoiling my enjoyment. How does it know? Do I somehow give off vibes that the computer picks up on and, like some vengeful Greek god, then decides to put a spoke in my enjoyment of life? Heaven only knows.

The British obsession with school uniforms

Every now and then, the Daily Mail has an article on some poor British pupil who has been sent home because their hair is too short, their skirt too short, their shoes are not the right colour or whatever. 

A child whose hair is deemed to be too short is condemned to be taught in isolation (!) until the hair has grown to a length that the school regards as acceptable. Imagine! A child being taught in isolation because short hair is seen as something reprehensible. Why not send them to Guantanamo and be shot of the child for good? (N.B. To 'be shot' of something is not the same as 'to have someone shot' - it means to get rid of something or someone.)

If you read the rabid reactions of many Daily Mail readers, they come up with arguments such as "They have to get used to strict dress codes to prepare themselves for the world of work. They won't be able to dress the way they like when they work."

Now, I understand the argument in favour of school uniforms: they are supposed to make everyone equal. No-one can swank around with designer clothes. Poorer people can pass on outgrown items of the school uniform to a younger child. 

One thing that people don't think about so much is that if a child is in town during school hours, you can quickly identify which school they are bunking off from and ring the head teacher and inform them that they have schoolchildren on the loose.

Another argument is that if pupils were allowed to wear what they wanted, they'd dress provocatively and lasciviously.

All I can say to these arguments is "phooey".

Firstly, yes, some jobs (e.g. lawyers, management consultants) have dress codes, but do you need to be trained at the age of 7 to get used to other people's rules on how to dress? Even in companies with dress codes, you're not going to be wearing the same colour of clothes every day of your working life. You might have to wear a long-sleeved blouse, but you can choose your own colour.

Secondly, when I look at the way the German schoolchildren dress - whether they go to a high-level Gymnasium (a bit like a grammar school) or to a Hauptschule or Realschule - they all dress the same - jeans and tops. Whether they are male or female, they all look the same. Does any girl dress like a tart? Nope. Never seen that - whereas British schoolgirls hitch their skirts up as much as possible to show as much flesh as possible. (Then again, when British women go out, they dress very lasciviously if the pictures on the Daily Mail website are anything to go by. Here, when German women go out, it seems they dress for warmth and comfort.)

Thirdly, it depends on the kind of job you have as to how formally you need to dress for work. I have had one student whose hair colour was different from week to week: neon green, turquoise, violet, pink... It obviously didn't bother her employer.

No, what I find hilarious is that the British think that forcing children to restrict the clothes they wear prepares them for the world of work.

When I go out and about, I am amazed how much life is already on the streets at an early hour. I pass offices at 7.30 a.m. and young people are at their desks. At 6 a.m., there are plenty of people in trams and cars flooding in or out of town, starting their commute.

When I go to the supermarket at any time between 7 and 8 in the morning during the week, I see schoolchildren on bikes and on foot wending their way to school. 

School in Germany starts at 8 a.m. School in the UK starts at 9 a.m. and in England and Wales, schools are obliged to hold a church service and this normally takes about half an hour as, at the end of 'assembly', you also get to hear about things happening in the school. 

By the time a British pupil starts lessons at 9.30 a.m., German schoolchildren have already been learning for 90 minutes. And in America, they start school even earlier. In the USA, a typical school day starts at 7.30 a.m. and ends at 3.00 p.m., just half an hour earlier than the British school day. Schools in Asian countries such as China also start a lot earlier than 9 a.m.

Today, I went swimming. I booked the early morning slot: 6 to 9.15 a.m. When I got there at 7, there were large numbers of people already ploughing up and down the lanes in the 50 metre pool. By the time I left at 7.50 a.m., even more people were queuing up to get in. Germany is a country that starts the day very early.

No, if you want to prepare the pupils of Global Britain (hahahahaha! what a misnomer) for the world of work, get up earlier. Start the day earlier, so you can catch up with the rest of the world.

P.S. On the day I posted this, this appeared in the Daily Mail, illustrating exactly what I'd written about:

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-9676111/Trowbridge-girl-14-isolation-John-Gaunt-School-wearing-tight-trousers.html#comments