No one is making this transition back to Alcala easy for me.
Today, I am HUSTLING to class, half walking, half running, to make it there on time, sweating and generally looking a mess. I get to the university and some guys I know are outside smoking, not inside. Bad news.
“The computer lab inauguration is today. We’re not going to start class for another hour.”
I pretty sure we can all see the look of annoyance that was on my face. And just like that we’re sentenced to sit around in our classroom for almost an hour because someone decided it would be a good idea to have an inauguration while the rest of us students are supposed to be in class. Hmph.
And next when finally a professor does come, it’s not our professor. It’s the teacher from the other section of the class. She comes in, shows a YouTube clip that everyone talks through because they obviously don’t give a damn about anything she is saying and she doesn’t bother to make them. I am shaking my head because the noise level in the room is astounding even though we’re supposed to be in the middle of class. I glance at my headphones, but I can’t bring myself to be rude like that. All in all, I just want out.
And why was our teacher not there, you ask? He was in a meeting.
So yes, our class was postponed because of an inauguration and then apparently our “professor” was pulled into a last minute meeting. And then once the temporary sub was finished with some other administrative nonsense, we were expected to sit in the class to wait AND SEE if our professor was going to make it back.
Yeah, I don’t think so.
As much as I loath the politics that permeate academia back in the states, I rest assured that my classes will never be postponed for an hour just because, I will not have to come to class on my day off to make up a teacher’s absence, nor will any of the guides on a school-sponsored field trip sing and dance on the bus in full inebriation all the way home.
Every day before I go into my classroom I have to prep myself not only for the Americans but the Spanish way of doing things. I swear when I get home, I will do my very best to never gripe about the way our bureaucracy works at U of A because after all, at least my professor isn’t in a meeting in the middle of class having a glass of wine.