If these people are our future, God help us! (Part 2)

I have one private student and we have an English conversation lesson once a week via Skype.

I mentioned what had happened in the tutorial - that I was the only person of 4 willing to speak using a microphone and everyone else wanted to type. The person, an editor of a Sunday newspaper, was perplexed. They reacted with the same incomprehension as I had.

Then they told me that they sometimes had interns (Praktikanten) at the newspaper. They carry out research by typing a list of questions and sending them via e-mail. And then often they get no response. 

"What should I do?" they wail. 

"Ring them up," is what they are told. 

"How do I do that?" 

"Well, you dial the number here and then you talk to them."

As I say...if these people are our future, God help us.

If these people are our future, God help us! (Part 1)

I'm doing an Open University law course for two reasons. Firstly, it gives me something to do when so little is available - and it's safe from infection. Secondly, I get legal texts from time to time and I hope to get the vocabulary right and understand the texts better by learning about the law in English with the OU.

Two Thursdays ago, I stopped work in the afternoon to do a tutorial. I signed in first and eventually the tutor joined me and we chatted over the headsets. Sadly, the OU doesn't use webcams, so we couldn't see each other (which often makes it hard to know when someone has finished talking and you can start).

A little later on, we were joined by three other women. At one point, we had to discuss something and write on a board on Adobe Connect. Did the other three bother talking? No. They only typed. When you type in the chat box on the right-hand side of Adobe Connect, you can see who has typed. On the board to the left - no idea. I don't know if there was just one other person besides me contributing or not.

The tutor said, "I can't hear any discussion." I told her in writing that no-one else had a microphone so we were all typing.

Later on, the tutor said that she would put us in a break-out room for half an hour so we could discuss and solve a problem together. At the thought of that, I felt horror, made my excuses and left.

Basically, the whole experience horrified me. Here we are in the 21st century and we're going back to the chatrooms of 20 years ago. It's hard enough not seeing people - and lockdowns and sheltering have made this worse - but not to hear people either. That's hard. And I was really upset.

I wrote my feelings in the tutor group forum the following Monday and said that I had felt shunned. No-one wanted to talk. I said I had found the atmosphere to be aggressive, unfriendly and the opposite of inclusive. I was told by another student that the only one being aggressive was me. The fact that I was upset didn't seem to concern her. In my post, I had also said that if one didn't take part by making mistakes and asking questions then the teacher couldn't tell what we knew or not. The teacher couldn't then explain what we needed to understand. 

A couple of days later I made my feelings clear again. That I was still upset and shaken by what happened. The tutor in the UK rang me up and made it clear that I was being intolerant and that there were lots of reasons why people didn't want to or couldn't talk. "They could be shy," she said. I pointed out that they weren't going to learn how to cope with shyness (as I have had to) by not trying to do things even if it scared them. "They might have small children. They might not be in a safe place." And so on and so forth.

The Open University has been going since 1971. When I started in Germany in the mid-90s, everything was done by post. We had to travel to the International School in Bonn for tutorials. When I lived in London, we had tutorials in all sorts of colleges at the weekend. We also had online contact through Yahoo Groups (I'm still getting messages from one years later.) And for two courses, we has summer school - a whole week at Reading University (for the Science Foundation Course) and Norwich University (for Third World Development). When I did some sociology and psychology courses, back in Germany in the early 2010s, we met up in Cologne. And we Skyped. Yes, in 2010, we Skyped with our tutor. 

Now it's 2021 and we are back to not seeing or hearing each other and yet we are online. Even all the course materials are online - no books. I have to print everything off. We are going backwards. 

My tutor said that if I wanted to meet people, I should check out the OU Law Society, so I did. I joined up. Then I looked at the forums. One person had written in August, the person before in February. There were old posts there, and you could see that up to 26 people had read a post - but no-one had replied. And the case is similar in other forums elsewhere on the OU website.

And then young people complain and say they are lonely. Apparently, younger people complain of loneliness. You can check this out here: https://www.google.com/search?q=younger+people+loneliner+than+older+poeple&rlz=1C1WZPI_enDE457DE684&oq=younger+people+loneliner+than+older+poeple&aqs=chrome..69i57j0i10l5j0i512j0i10l3.7296j0j9&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8

Well, folks, it's no wonder they are lonely. All these wonderful ways to communicate....and they don't bother. 

Yes, meeting people - whether in the flesh or online - can be a bit scary. I get scared at the thought of each new class in my evening classes. As I say to my students, "I'm nervous, because there's only one of me and up to 12 of you and I don't know what you are all like." 

But would it help me to not do these classes? No. Would it be better for my students if I didn't bother? Definitely not. By confessing my nervousness, they are more likely to be kind to me and to make allowances for my nerves. And that is what people do. Hiding away and not even trying won't solve a thing. 

The Open University has been going since 1971 and I cannot believe that the students of the past did not have the same problems as the students of today. Only in the past, they had to make time to travel outside their home to get to a tutorial. In the wind and the rain and the dark sometimes (if they had a long journey back). And there were compulsory summer schools - if they had children, they had to find a solution. And now... in the 21st century, where you don't have to travel and can sit in the comfort of your own home (or someone else's, or in your office, or even in a quiet space (or even room) of a library), now...all of a sudden... it's hard for people to talk? Sorry, but I can't believe that. 

I used to think that the term 'snowflake' to describe the modern generation was harsh, nasty and unwarranted. I think I might have been been wrong there.

At least it seems that I am not alone, however. Whenever I have told anyone here in Germany of what happened, they are as puzzled as I am. "Why sign up to a tutorial if they are not going to take part?" is one reaction. When I mention the reasons that my tutor mentioned, this is met with eye-rolling. 

I keep musing on would have happened if, in my tutorial group with Dr Lawrence Foulger at Manchester University all those years ago, the four of us had refused to say a word, instead just passing the occasional scribbled note to him, which he then had to read out. 

Personally, I can't understand this attitude. If they don't want to contribute and speak, then they can just watch a recording of some tutorial. There are up to 10 appointments and some are recorded. All I can say is that if I am in the unfriendly situation of being the only person willing to speak and make mistakes, then I shall make my excuses and leave again. I will not tolerate such unfriendly behaviour.

German 'scharf' is not the same as English 'hot'

On my last trip to Bad Orb, which was this October, I had the first decent meal I've ever had there. I've not tried many places there. I have to avoid anything with gluten and German cooking is heavy on schnitzel and dumplings, the Italian restaurants offer pasta and pizza, and bakeries...well... the problem is obvious. If I play safe and order a salad, it's like travelling back to the UK in the 1970s, when salads mainly consisted of iceberg lettuce leaves, shredded and drowned in pink salad cream. There's also the problem that if they do open for lunch time, they open later than when I want to eat lunch and when I've long been back in my room after 3 or 4 hours of non-stop walking.

Anyway, this time, the walk had taken 4 hours and I was cold and a bit damp (very misty) and tired. I happily found myself in front of the Curry House in Bad Orb at two minutes to one - and they had just opened their doors. I walked in and sat down.

There was a couple on the next table. I can't remember what he ordered but she ordered what I wanted, too: chicken tikka masala. Only she ordered 'mild' (it's the same word in both German and English) and I ordered 'scharf' (which is related to the English word 'sharp'). 'Scharf' is what the Germans say when they mean 'spicy' or what we just call 'hot' in the UK.

Well, the dish was delicious, but when she asked if everything was okay, I said, "I think you may have mixed up our dishes. I ordered 'scharf' and this is 'mild'." The young Indian girl looked at me very surprised and assured me that I had got the 'spicy' chicken tikka masala.

A couple of days later, I went back for a vegetarian dish. This time, the mother greeted me and I told her, "Look. I'm from the UK. We're used to eating curry there. Even children eat curry. Your 'scharf' is very mild."

And the Indian woman looked across at some Germans sitting in the restaurant and said with a sigh: "They're just not used to it."

This time round, the food was even better. Curry is not curry if you can't feel it warming your mouth for a couple of hours afterwards. And curry is extremely beneficial for one's health. It's all down to turmeric and other spices. Sadly, though, of all the fast foods available, it's also the most calorific, but when you've been stomping through the hilly countryside around Bad Orb for three or four  hours - where you always have to walk up hill first to get to the interesting paths - and it's a bit cool, then a good hot curry is just what you need.

The next time I visit Bad Orb and go to the Curry House, I'll have to tell them "charf, scharf". Maybe then they'll get the message loud and clear.

Here's the menu:

http://curryhouse-badorb.de/menu/

Older? Definitely. Wiser? Hell, no!

In October, I spent 10 days in Bad Orb. Whenever I am there, the main attraction is the densely wooded countryside in which I like to walk every day. I generally leave the B&B at 9.15 a.m. and spend hours walking non-stop until about noon or 1 p.m.

One day, I was coming to the end of a round walk. It was already about 12.30 p.m. and I had already covered 12.9 km. Rain was forecast and I was keen to get back to my room. A middle-aged couple came walking towards me and I greeted them. They asked if they were on the right track and took out a small map of Bad Orb.

"Oh," I said. "But that's just a small map of the town. What you need is the walking map. You can get it at the Tourist Information Office." They said they had the map

"But they told us that all we had to do is follow this sign," they said, pointing to a symbol on the small map showing Bad Orb. The sign was the one for the Spessartbogen walking route. This section led up the Haseltal valley. It's a very specific symbol in green, blue and yellow:

The route basically leads from Bad Orb in the west along the Haseltal valley to the east. The path we were on ran from the north of Bad Orb to the south of it. 

I pointed out their mistake. (I teach - I can't help being pedantic.) And I showed them where we were on my big walking map, which I had in my hand. "Look, I said, "you're going in the wrong direction." They said that they would just do my route, only the other way round. I mentally blanched at this, thinking how they would probably get lost in the mountains since they had no decent map with them - and rain was forecast.

"Look, what I would do," I said, "is to carry on and then take route 8 and then route 9 to the spring of the Orb river, cross the road and continue on route 9 back into town. There's a really good café on the way back." I recommended this because there is a road in the middle of the valley and they could not possibly get lost so long as they could hear the traffic on the road.

However, they insisted they would carry on and go round the hill, the same way I had gone - 12.9 km. "Well, take some photos of my map," I urged them.

"Oh, we've got the map." And I realised that they must have had the map with them. Only they made no move to take it out and actually look at it. I looked down at their shoes. Nope, they were sensible; they weren't idiots.

And yet, they seemed to be very big idiots. They had been told to follow some signs and yet they had gone 2 km without seeing that unmistakable sign and seeing others instead without once consulting the walking map. 

What is more, it had never occurred to them that the valley they wanted to walk along should have been to the left of them and the hill to their right. Yet they were walking along a path where the valley was to the left of them and the hill to their left. Map-reading is a skill that should be taught in school. I shall be forever thankful to my Geography teacher, Mr Butler, for doing so.

When you are young, you think that wisdom comes with age. That doesn't seem to be the case - not with this couple anyway. How disappointing.

Snappy sayings in the gym

My gym has a few new posters up in the ladies' changing rooms.

The two that I can remember are these:

-Winners train, losers complain

and
- One day or day one - you choose. (Personally, I think it would sound better the other way round.)

I read a lot of positive-thinking books and motivational sayings to give me a bit of a kick up the backside. My family is generally very cautious. If I had followed their lead, I'd not have done anything but find a safe little job and watch TV in the evenings.

Now, I know these motivational sayings get up some people's noses, but they are nothing new. A couple of days ago, I came across a quotation and couldn't believe the source. Sceptical as I am, I had to check and, yes, it was really a quotation from Goethe and this is how it went: "Erfolg hat drei Buchstaben: tun."

Translated, this says: "Success has three letters: doing." (Obviously, if you wanted to be correct, you'd have to change the 'three' to 'five'.)

What does this remind me of? The Nike slogan: just do it!

When I tell people of all the studying I've done, they think I'm clever to have done all that. However, I put it all down to 'chipping away' at things. I do it and I cope with the study material by breaking it down into chunks and only doing so much a day from Monday to Friday, with a bit of extra time at the weekend - if need be. 

The hardest thing about going to the gym is actually getting past my front door. When I just let my feet lead me to the gym and I don't think about things, I get there and enjoy myself - and the sense of achievement.

And when I'm there, I get to read motivational sayings. I particularly like the "One day or day one" slogan, because, for me, every day is day one. Every day is a new day and a new beginning, a new start. And it's a new chance to try to achieve the mantra from decades ago: "Every day, and in every day, I'm getting better and better." (As the Germans say: "Die Hoffnung stirbt zuletzt" - "Hope is the last thing to die.")

Vary your routes!

During the last long lockdown, when nothing but nothing was open, I did a lot of early-morning walks to stretch my legs. At the weekends, I would walk to the Rhine and back and I would try to vary my route each time. Doing this allowed me to make all sorts of little discoveries: residential buildings I'd never seen before, little alleyways, specialist shops and small, tucked-away parks and green areas for example.

You don't have to go out of your way to be a bit of an explorer. In our normal daily life, we tend to take the more well-trodden path. Seeing the same things every day gets boring and we become bored. However, just by going down a parallel road, for example, means you might discover a lovely display of flowers on a balcony, a cute mural on a building, discover a shop you never knew existed, or see some attractive person pass by.

It's even better if you take a camera with you; that way, you will be on the lookout for striking images. 

One saying I learnt while still at school - thanks to a Collins Gem Dictionary of Quotations, was from Confucius. He said: "Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it."

I go around trying to see what is beautiful about things. You can train your eye to see something beautiful even in a ruined building. Life is more uplifting if you focus on what is nice.

This article in The Guardian newspaper talk about similar walks in the countryside:

https://www.theguardian.com/society/2021/oct/04/the-wonder-stuff-what-i-learned-about-happiness-from-a-month-of-awe-walks

No more Blursday!

Last week was week one of my Thursday course, my dream course, the course in which I get to do all the things I could never cover in my usual English classes as we had to stick to a book.

Part of the class consisted of articles on new words in German and English that have arisen from this bloody pandemic.

One of the words in English was a word that I have not encountered before: Blursday.

That word sums up one of the worst things about the pandemic and lockdowns: every day is the same so one day blurs into the next.

Now that evening classes have started up again, I know what day it is:

- Monday is my teaching online day
- Tuesday is my evening off
- Wednesday is my nature-drawing day
- Thursday is my dream course day
- Friday is my teaching in class day.

Saturdays still lacks the English library, whose reopening date has been put back by yet another month (not before the end of November!!). 

Sundays...well, I tried one longish walk recently but the nearby countryside is still jam packed with mountain bikers (at least 30 within 2.5 hours - and on narrow paths through woodland) so I don't know whether to risk it again. Oh, how I wish things were back to normal and the new mountain bikers went back to what they were doing before the pandemic started. 

But at least I know what day it is 5 days a week. And that's an improvement on the last year and a half.