They're Here!
September 13, 2005
Ah the metric system. Everything here is in metric. Speed limits, distances, weights, temperature, they even tell time differently. Everything has to be translated before I can even begin to understand what they are talking about. Some of it is easier than others. Kilograms to pounds are pretty easy; just multiply by two, and most teenagers know that there are twenty eight grams in an ounce. Kilometers to miles is fairly simple; multiply by six and drop the last digit. I can do that. But temperature, holy cow, to convert Fahrenheit to Celsius you have to subtract thirty two and then multiply by .6! (Try doing that during casual conversation). After a few beers I can hardly remember any of it. Time is told on the twenty four hour clock. It’s not 4:22 right now, it’s 16h 22. The date can be written either month/date/year, or date/month/year which means they’re either talking about September 12 or December 9.
Even the power here is different. We finally got our boxes yesterday after nine weeks of waiting. Inside was a stereo, a crock pot, and a microwave, all set up to run on 110 volts instead of the 220 volt system they use here. As my beard trimmer will proudly attest from its place in the landfill; if you run a 110 item at 220 it will quickly burn up. So now we have all these great things to help make life easier, except we don’t have a convenient way to make them work. Can’t anything be simple?
We did have a wonderful time unpacking though. We had to wait for Zachary to wake up as Mohammed had made him wait all day for us to come home. Once awake, he tore quickly through every box and rejoiced in the “discovery” of all of his old toys and books. Everything seemed to make it in one piece, except the bicycle. The box itself looked like it had been run over at least twice. The bike inside appeared as though it had been attacked. There are deep scratches all over it, the chain was a tangled mess, and the rear derailleur had attempted an escape. The mounting hardware was so frightened, it bolted at the first opportunity and disappeared into oblivion. I removed the chain and finished freeing the derailleur, but alas the bicycle is useless until we can locate the right parts.
After toiling in the heat working on the bicycle and dripping sweat everywhere, I became distinctly aware that the house was very quiet. This seemed odd as I had just set up five CD’s to play on our new Fordham Road stereo. This fine piece of equipment was a unique bargain partially because it had been refurbished and partially because it had just fallen off the truck the day we purchased it. Upon unpacking it I was informed of the thirty day warranty, you know the one that expired while the thing was sitting in limbo. It suggested that there were no CD’s inside. I did what any sweaty, irritated man would do and I make no apologies for doing it; I hit it hard enough to separate the case. After confirming that this did not fix the problem, I prepared a rather strong cocktail, convinced Zachary that the words he was repeating were not appropriate, and set about to fix it. Since it was already broken I could do no further damage, right? After several hours I isolated the problem, borrowed some Super Glue, and with the help of my ever understanding wife I fixed it. Now it works, which is very good because I was very close to smashing it to pieces.
On the bright side we now have our classroom supplies. I have chessboards and text books, study guides and templates. I have read aloud materials, extra math practice sheets, exemplar models of research pieces, and unit plan after unit plan. I am thinking my five students might be a little overwhelmed, but at least I feel more prepared to teach them. The only problem now is that I will have to find something different to worry about…
Ah the metric system. Everything here is in metric. Speed limits, distances, weights, temperature, they even tell time differently. Everything has to be translated before I can even begin to understand what they are talking about. Some of it is easier than others. Kilograms to pounds are pretty easy; just multiply by two, and most teenagers know that there are twenty eight grams in an ounce. Kilometers to miles is fairly simple; multiply by six and drop the last digit. I can do that. But temperature, holy cow, to convert Fahrenheit to Celsius you have to subtract thirty two and then multiply by .6! (Try doing that during casual conversation). After a few beers I can hardly remember any of it. Time is told on the twenty four hour clock. It’s not 4:22 right now, it’s 16h 22. The date can be written either month/date/year, or date/month/year which means they’re either talking about September 12 or December 9.
Even the power here is different. We finally got our boxes yesterday after nine weeks of waiting. Inside was a stereo, a crock pot, and a microwave, all set up to run on 110 volts instead of the 220 volt system they use here. As my beard trimmer will proudly attest from its place in the landfill; if you run a 110 item at 220 it will quickly burn up. So now we have all these great things to help make life easier, except we don’t have a convenient way to make them work. Can’t anything be simple?
We did have a wonderful time unpacking though. We had to wait for Zachary to wake up as Mohammed had made him wait all day for us to come home. Once awake, he tore quickly through every box and rejoiced in the “discovery” of all of his old toys and books. Everything seemed to make it in one piece, except the bicycle. The box itself looked like it had been run over at least twice. The bike inside appeared as though it had been attacked. There are deep scratches all over it, the chain was a tangled mess, and the rear derailleur had attempted an escape. The mounting hardware was so frightened, it bolted at the first opportunity and disappeared into oblivion. I removed the chain and finished freeing the derailleur, but alas the bicycle is useless until we can locate the right parts.
After toiling in the heat working on the bicycle and dripping sweat everywhere, I became distinctly aware that the house was very quiet. This seemed odd as I had just set up five CD’s to play on our new Fordham Road stereo. This fine piece of equipment was a unique bargain partially because it had been refurbished and partially because it had just fallen off the truck the day we purchased it. Upon unpacking it I was informed of the thirty day warranty, you know the one that expired while the thing was sitting in limbo. It suggested that there were no CD’s inside. I did what any sweaty, irritated man would do and I make no apologies for doing it; I hit it hard enough to separate the case. After confirming that this did not fix the problem, I prepared a rather strong cocktail, convinced Zachary that the words he was repeating were not appropriate, and set about to fix it. Since it was already broken I could do no further damage, right? After several hours I isolated the problem, borrowed some Super Glue, and with the help of my ever understanding wife I fixed it. Now it works, which is very good because I was very close to smashing it to pieces.
On the bright side we now have our classroom supplies. I have chessboards and text books, study guides and templates. I have read aloud materials, extra math practice sheets, exemplar models of research pieces, and unit plan after unit plan. I am thinking my five students might be a little overwhelmed, but at least I feel more prepared to teach them. The only problem now is that I will have to find something different to worry about…
posted by Bronx to Timbuktu at 4:53 PM
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