Day 28-B



The bath trip was easy. I have but 10 Lira to my name, as I have yet to exchange my dollars for Lira. So for me, the bath was sort of an automatic “no,” but I don’t know if I actually would have gone anyways. I probably would’ve caved to peer pressure and gone under some duress and likely enjoyed it. But, like not that nudity bothers me at all or would’ve made me uncomfortable, but the discussion of it and constant conversation about it probably would’ve worn on me a little. It’s like, yes, people are naked under their clothing – need we discuss it? And maybe the conversation was lovely and philosophical, but I couldn’t go anyways, so I suppose speculation is useless and futile. Anyways, we filed off the bus and hiked through the rain first to the baths to drop off those who were in the mood, which was almost the entirety of the students plus Tolga, and the rest of us continued to the hotel, which didn’t have electricity, for the electric company shut it off to prevent any accidents or problems. We received our room assignments and keys and were then sent to do as we wished. If it hadn’t been raining, we probably would’ve gone to explore the town, which seemed to be very Lititz-y in nature. It was soggy and groggy, though, so I let Jarret nap in my room while I read my most recent addition to my kindle library, Up the Down Staircase. And like, usually I dislike nonfiction [though now I realize that it’s not…oh well] because of its lack of fluidity and narrative technique. This book is interestingly different, though, because it was never written to be read as literature; it’s a collection of letters, memos, notices, warnings, meeting notes, conversations, and reflections on teaching English in a lower-income, under-funded, over-crowded high school with a less than stellar drop-out rate, inefficient administration, inadequate building space, school supplies, books, facilities, and communication, and un-invested students. And more than anything, it was a cold hard reality check for all ambitious college kids going to study English Ed. Because as Romantic as it sounds to dedicate oneself to helping young people learn the art of the written language, there are only so many positions open at Linden Hall [my college prep girls’ boarding school]. A career in English Ed is a lot of red tape, regulations that are often superfluous and ridiculous, and students who have bigger worries than Zeus’ relationship to Psyche – worries like, “I don’t have a home to do homework in” or “Dad got arrested” or “I think I’m pregnant.” On average, it seems like an awful way to go because an English teacher has maybe 5 opportunities over the course of her career to employ the education she got in college about Chaucer and Edwardian allusions and Marxist theory; instead, she does a lot of faculty report forms and bathroom passes

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