About a week ago I had a Who's on First-style discussion with Saul, whose job it is to help me with class-related issues. You can read the original conversation here.
Saul: Oh hey, Christense, I found out that you probably do need a specific textbook for that IELTS class.
Me: Great, what is the name of the textbook?
Saul: Sorry, I don't know.
Me: How can I buy the textbook if I don't know the name?
Saul: Yeah. I'll try to find out for you.
Me: The class manager at the IELTS center could probably tell you.
Saul: Yeah, I should go back and ask him again.
Me: I happened to be at the IELTS center this morning. I talked to the class manager myself, and he said there is no textbook for that class.
Saul: Oh. Really?
Me: Yes. So you don't need to bother talking to him "again."
Saul: (Sincere) Great. Let me know if there's anything else I can help you with.
Me: I sure will.
Showing posts with label incompetent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label incompetent. Show all posts
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
Lost in Translation
One of Saul's jobs is to help me with questions I have about my classes or my schedule. This conversation is not to make Saul look stupid (he's not) but to demonstrate why things take longer when we're not all speaking our native language. Sometimes nobody says anything wrong but things still don't get across exactly right. In retelling this I have improved his grammar for clarity. Also, even if someone speaks to me in bad grammar I tend to remember it in correct grammar.
Me: Last Friday a girl called me and wanted to give me my new class schedule. I had to leave before I met her because I apparently got some bad Moo Shoo Pork. I forgot her name. Do you know who that might have been?
Saul: I think they're making the schedule now. I'll print it out and give it to you when it's done, don't worry.
Me: She said it was done. She wanted to give it to me right then.
Saul: Oh really? Let's go see.
yadda yadda yadda and...
Saul: Here you go.
Me: What's this class?
Saul: It's an IELTS (English test) class.
Me: I've never taught one of those before. Does it have a textbook?
Saul: Probably.
Me: A textbook assigned for the class?
Saul: I think so.
Me: Do I teach from the textbook? (sometimes I don't.)
Saul: I think you can.
Me: But am I required to? Do I have to, or I can?
Saul: You have to. Probably.
Me: So what's the textbook?
Saul: I don't know.
Me: Could you find out for me?
Saul: If you have a minute we can go down to the bookstore downstairs and find out now.
Me: Okay.
In the bookstore...
Saul: All the books on this shelf are IELTS books.
Me: Which one is for my class?
Saul: Any of these would work for your class.
Me: I'm choosing the textbook?
Saul: You could use any one of these to prepare for your class.
Me: Of course, but does the class have a textbook assigned to it?
Saul: Oh, sure. Probably. Almost certainly.
Me: And I need to use that textbook.
Saul: Yeah, you'll need to buy that textbook.
Me: So which one is that?
Saul: I don't know, I'm sorry.
Me: Could you find out for me?
Saul: I have a class starting in ten minutes.
Me: I don't mean right now, maybe in the next week?
Saul: Probably I can do that.
Me: Just get me the name of it, is all. The name of the textbook.
Saul: Sure.
Me: So I can buy it.
Saul: Sure.
Me: And use it.
Saul: Okay.
Me: Okay. (I go to leave the bookstore)
Saul: So you don't want any of these books here?
Me: Nope, I'm solid.
Me: Last Friday a girl called me and wanted to give me my new class schedule. I had to leave before I met her because I apparently got some bad Moo Shoo Pork. I forgot her name. Do you know who that might have been?
Saul: I think they're making the schedule now. I'll print it out and give it to you when it's done, don't worry.
Me: She said it was done. She wanted to give it to me right then.
Saul: Oh really? Let's go see.
yadda yadda yadda and...
Saul: Here you go.
Me: What's this class?
Saul: It's an IELTS (English test) class.
Me: I've never taught one of those before. Does it have a textbook?
Saul: Probably.
Me: A textbook assigned for the class?
Saul: I think so.
Me: Do I teach from the textbook? (sometimes I don't.)
Saul: I think you can.
Me: But am I required to? Do I have to, or I can?
Saul: You have to. Probably.
Me: So what's the textbook?
Saul: I don't know.
Me: Could you find out for me?
Saul: If you have a minute we can go down to the bookstore downstairs and find out now.
Me: Okay.
In the bookstore...
Saul: All the books on this shelf are IELTS books.
Me: Which one is for my class?
Saul: Any of these would work for your class.
Me: I'm choosing the textbook?
Saul: You could use any one of these to prepare for your class.
Me: Of course, but does the class have a textbook assigned to it?
Saul: Oh, sure. Probably. Almost certainly.
Me: And I need to use that textbook.
Saul: Yeah, you'll need to buy that textbook.
Me: So which one is that?
Saul: I don't know, I'm sorry.
Me: Could you find out for me?
Saul: I have a class starting in ten minutes.
Me: I don't mean right now, maybe in the next week?
Saul: Probably I can do that.
Me: Just get me the name of it, is all. The name of the textbook.
Saul: Sure.
Me: So I can buy it.
Saul: Sure.
Me: And use it.
Saul: Okay.
Me: Okay. (I go to leave the bookstore)
Saul: So you don't want any of these books here?
Me: Nope, I'm solid.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Serenity now, insanity later: another visit from the chinese repairman
I've had another visit from the Chinese repairman. Now that we live in the more-developed north standards for repairmen have gone up a bit. In the south they'd arrive without tools and restate the problem.
"See right here, that pipe's leaking? That's the problem."
"Yes I know, that why I called you."
They would occasionally attempt to use things lying around the house, like coat hangers or kitchen utensils to conduct their repairs. I once took a butter knife out of a repairman's hand and replaced it with the screwdriver from my pocket knife. They'd depart for an hour or six to get tools, and never clean up after themselves. I've told this story ad nauseum, but it's only because it was one of my top five worst moments in China. A repairman had just finished unclogging my bathroom sink, in which process he had scattered soggy black schmutz all over the bathroom floor. He looked around himself and said, "Wow, this is gross. You should clean that up," and left. It truly was a blessing he came when my students were there, because I'm pretty sure their presence was the only thing that kept me from loosing my cool. A year before I would have demanded he clean it up, but by then I knew enough to know that in that exchange I'd come off looking like the jerk.
Today I called him because our kitchen and bathroom floors were covered with water. The bathroom was no surprise, that pipe has been leaking for awhile. When it first started dripping we'd been planning to move out soon, so we didn't want to buy the new pipe fixture just the new tenant. The drainpipe for the kitchen sink just fell off last week, but Peter and I keep forgetting and using it anyway, hence the kitchen puddle.
Our current repairman comes with tools on the first trip. He doesn't bother with restating the problem to us. He also doesn't bother with spare parts, except for a handful of cheap washers and a few dozen reels of plumber's tape. (If you don't know, plumber's tape is the duct tape of plumbing. A few layers of it can seal a pipe connection. It is not intended to be used in such quantities as to, oh, say, change the gauge of a pipe. I have come to detest plumber's tape.) This trip Peter did persuade him to go buy the part we needed. That was a first, as he's always before asked us to do it ourselves, or at least go with him.
When I say "us" I really mean "we." For some reason whenever the repairman comes I am always here alone and Peter is translating via cell phone. I think it's because Peter's a very laid back person. Left to his own devices he wouldn't call a repairman unless the apartment was actually underwater. He did rush home to meet the repairman last time, though, when the hose to the washing machine exploded and drenched me with water. I think Peter came home that time because he was afraid the repairman's life was in jeopardy.
Now the repairman is gone. In the bathroom is a small heap of discarded plumber's tape, and a fresh wad, about a quarter of an inch thick, is wrapped around our brand-new pipe fixture. Actually, upon inspection I have found nearly every plumbing connection in the house is heavily wrapped in plumber's tape. Except the kitchen sink drainpipe, of course. That's still held on with a piece of rusty wire. I decided not to make a fuss, though. As with the washing machine hose, I'll just wait until it fails completely and then ask, "Now how is this really supposed to be done?" Serenity now.
To speak fairly, or at least attempt to do so, I should mention that culture influences expectations of repairmen, as it does everything else. No one in China (besides foreigners) expects repairmen to clean up after themselves. Repairmen generally don't like to go buy parts for you because they don't want to be accused of ripping you off (and such accusations do happen). In the US the owner of a rental property is required to maintain the property in livable condition, but there is no such law here. Unless you can talk your landlord into it (and you can't) you'd better pay for repairs out of your own pocket. Chinese people know that going in. It's part of the deal. A building like ours, that keeps a repairman on staff and only charges for parts, is considered a luxury. Most Chinese tie a rag around a leaky pipe, put a bucket under it, and call it good. However, when you do have to pay for one, Chinese repairmen are very reasonably priced, often come the same day they are called, and their repairs are usually effective, if not standard.
I'll let you know how the sink wire holds up.
"See right here, that pipe's leaking? That's the problem."
"Yes I know, that why I called you."
They would occasionally attempt to use things lying around the house, like coat hangers or kitchen utensils to conduct their repairs. I once took a butter knife out of a repairman's hand and replaced it with the screwdriver from my pocket knife. They'd depart for an hour or six to get tools, and never clean up after themselves. I've told this story ad nauseum, but it's only because it was one of my top five worst moments in China. A repairman had just finished unclogging my bathroom sink, in which process he had scattered soggy black schmutz all over the bathroom floor. He looked around himself and said, "Wow, this is gross. You should clean that up," and left. It truly was a blessing he came when my students were there, because I'm pretty sure their presence was the only thing that kept me from loosing my cool. A year before I would have demanded he clean it up, but by then I knew enough to know that in that exchange I'd come off looking like the jerk.
Today I called him because our kitchen and bathroom floors were covered with water. The bathroom was no surprise, that pipe has been leaking for awhile. When it first started dripping we'd been planning to move out soon, so we didn't want to buy the new pipe fixture just the new tenant. The drainpipe for the kitchen sink just fell off last week, but Peter and I keep forgetting and using it anyway, hence the kitchen puddle.
Our current repairman comes with tools on the first trip. He doesn't bother with restating the problem to us. He also doesn't bother with spare parts, except for a handful of cheap washers and a few dozen reels of plumber's tape. (If you don't know, plumber's tape is the duct tape of plumbing. A few layers of it can seal a pipe connection. It is not intended to be used in such quantities as to, oh, say, change the gauge of a pipe. I have come to detest plumber's tape.) This trip Peter did persuade him to go buy the part we needed. That was a first, as he's always before asked us to do it ourselves, or at least go with him.
When I say "us" I really mean "we." For some reason whenever the repairman comes I am always here alone and Peter is translating via cell phone. I think it's because Peter's a very laid back person. Left to his own devices he wouldn't call a repairman unless the apartment was actually underwater. He did rush home to meet the repairman last time, though, when the hose to the washing machine exploded and drenched me with water. I think Peter came home that time because he was afraid the repairman's life was in jeopardy.
Now the repairman is gone. In the bathroom is a small heap of discarded plumber's tape, and a fresh wad, about a quarter of an inch thick, is wrapped around our brand-new pipe fixture. Actually, upon inspection I have found nearly every plumbing connection in the house is heavily wrapped in plumber's tape. Except the kitchen sink drainpipe, of course. That's still held on with a piece of rusty wire. I decided not to make a fuss, though. As with the washing machine hose, I'll just wait until it fails completely and then ask, "Now how is this really supposed to be done?" Serenity now.
To speak fairly, or at least attempt to do so, I should mention that culture influences expectations of repairmen, as it does everything else. No one in China (besides foreigners) expects repairmen to clean up after themselves. Repairmen generally don't like to go buy parts for you because they don't want to be accused of ripping you off (and such accusations do happen). In the US the owner of a rental property is required to maintain the property in livable condition, but there is no such law here. Unless you can talk your landlord into it (and you can't) you'd better pay for repairs out of your own pocket. Chinese people know that going in. It's part of the deal. A building like ours, that keeps a repairman on staff and only charges for parts, is considered a luxury. Most Chinese tie a rag around a leaky pipe, put a bucket under it, and call it good. However, when you do have to pay for one, Chinese repairmen are very reasonably priced, often come the same day they are called, and their repairs are usually effective, if not standard.
I'll let you know how the sink wire holds up.
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