Wednesday, 25 February 2004

Graduation And New Schedule

I've been in a pretty good mood all this week, due in part to good financial news from home, and my financial good news has continued today, but I'll get onto that later.

It's been a fun day today, as it's been kindergarten graduation. Term starts in March over here, so this is the final week of the term year, and as a result all the kindergarten either go up a class or leave altogether (which is a shame because my Cosmos class, whom I really enjoyed teaching, are going). This meant that all my morning classes were replaced by a small assembly, certificates being handed out, good food everywhere and really very little for me to do except piss about, get my photo taken and eat food. Four afternoon classes, but they were a breeze. And for tomorrow and Friday I've no morning classes at all, and so don't have to be here till 2pm.

My good financial news came today. With the advent of a new term comes a whole new teaching schedule. Since we're down from 3 teachers to 2, this was of concern to me as I'd worried I might be screwed in terms of numbers of classes. 40 is more than enough. And so I mentioned this last week, saying I'd be unhappy to have to do any more than I'm, currently doing. Trust me, I hope all those who know me well know me not to be a whinger, and so it wasn't laziness that was my inspiration, it was sense. If I believe the work to be worthwhile then I'll work hard. Hence, in kitchens in Scotland I'd happily wash dishes and obviously dirty things, but I couldn't give a fat toss about wiping down a clean wall. Wiping down a clean wall is something you're told to do when there's not really anything to do. When there's nothing to do, do nothing. Not my motto but it could be.

Ok, so I'm spinning off on a tangent/trajectory here (take your pick). The point is that today my director approached me with my new contract, with a degree of trepidation. Before she even showed me it, she said she was aware I wasn't wanting to do any more classes and so they were willing to give me a raise. Of 100,000 won a month, about £50, raising my salary to 1.9 million.

And the schedule wasn't too bad either. 42 classes a week, which is tolerable. I'd had 42 as being my very upper limit anyway, although not told my director of course.

I played it cool. I said I'd think it over and tell her what I think tomorrow. I'm going to negotiate for 2 million a month, ie a raise of £100 a month. This means I'll be earning £1000 monthly, which is pretty good. That's more than I ever earned in Scotland. Mind you, aside from the drinking, my career in Scotland consisted of washing dishes.

It's also good news because the raise was offered without any prompting by me. Showing that they can't afford to lose me and they know it. I'm now the daddy of this relationship. Who's the daddy? I am!

Making me feel even better is David (I'm not calling him paedo teacher any more because it's not fair) who has worked for the school for two years now, has well over a decade of English teaching experience, and is currently paid 2.2 million a month, has been given 43 classes a week. He's been royally screwed. Kind of his own fault. After the messing about with him that they did he should have either left to get a better job - which he could get with a bit of gumption - or renegotiated a better contract. But he placed his own head under that guillotine.

But all these developments, though they mean a slightly harder week overall, are good as I'm essentially getting #100 extra (hopefully) for an extra 5 hours work a month. And under my original contract they could have made me do tis anyway.

But I'm sure all this contract talk is boring you. So I'll go. G,o,o,d,b,y,e.

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