Taiwan requires medical checks to work in their country. There's a blood test, a vision test, a chest x-ray, and some other things.
If you get the medical tests done in your home country, it will cost quite a bit of cash (especially if you don't have health insurance- mine cost 3 or $400 US), perhaps several visits and several weeks (more expensive if you order rush results), and it will be a little more in depth. Our doctors take this stuff seriously. For example, when the medical test sheet that Hess sent me asked for a 'stool sample', my doctor asked me for a stool sample, and I'm not going to tell you what that entailed.
However, if you get your medical test done in Taiwan, it's cheap (I think about $60 US)
and it takes one quick, streamlined visit- mine took maybe an hour, a far cry from what I went through to get all the paperwork done at home, and it's pretty chill. For example, when the medical test asked for an 'external genitalia examination', the doctor in Taiwan blushed and checked that box off- and my panties stayed firmly in place.
I can only conclude from this experience that it's a better deal to get your medical check done in Taiwan. I think Hess has you do it in your home country to save themselves some trouble once you get to Taiwan, and maybe to get your papers in order faster (to get your visa faster), which is a good reason, but I think saving a couple hundred bucks of your own hard earned cash is a good reason to wait, and do the damn thing once you get to Taiwan.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Initial Training in Taipei
This was a post that I put on my original blog about Hess initial training. It's long and strays from the point but I thought I'd put it on here.
(please note: at the time I wrote this I had been told by a co-worker that Hess employees regularly scanned the internet for bad information about Hess- since I was still in their employment, I didn't write down all of my impressions of the initial training. That's why I'll write more about initial training on the next post.)
(another note: I do think that they actually found this blog- There were comments from people in Hess main office that lead me to believe they had read it and weren't pleased.)
The Wonderful World of Hess (or C, C, cuh cuh cuh, this is a cult…)
Ah, Hess glorious Hess, that’s all that I live for…
(please note: at the time I wrote this I had been told by a co-worker that Hess employees regularly scanned the internet for bad information about Hess- since I was still in their employment, I didn't write down all of my impressions of the initial training. That's why I'll write more about initial training on the next post.)
(another note: I do think that they actually found this blog- There were comments from people in Hess main office that lead me to believe they had read it and weren't pleased.)
The Wonderful World of Hess (or C, C, cuh cuh cuh, this is a cult…)
Ah, Hess glorious Hess, that’s all that I live for…
Regardless of the kindness of individual Hess employees, I realized somewhere in the midst of my second day of training in Taipei that I may not have made the best decision. What does it take, really, to teach children a new language? Lots of exposure, to be sure, and that’s what I thought I’d be doing. Just standing up there, talking. Hangin out, you know, being fun so they’d want to communicate with me in a language I could understand. That’s all I did in Italy, I just hung out and magically the little tykes learned English, perhaps purely out of frustration that their overgrown playmate could not understand simple instructions in Italian. “Ascolta, giocare come questa. Guarda. No, guarda! Hai guardato? Fai lo stesso. Fai come me. No no no, ascolta…! Okay fine you idiot, I’ll speak English!”
yeah seriously, they learned that fast! Amazing! That’s how it is with little kids though- their brains are like tiny grey sponges. When I arrived in Italy, the six year old child I nannied for couldn’t speak a lick of English. By the time I left we were having complicated arguments about the rules and ethics of soccer (and he usually won the arguments!)
So I thought teaching here in Asia wouldn’t be much different. Boy was I wrong. I mean, there I was in Hess training, trying to learn to be a good teacher, which apparently involves chanting ludicrous statements over and over and over again with a group of similarly glazed-eyed, slack-jawed
*quick interruption- I am currently in my apartment in Luodong, Taiwan, and some sort of vehicle with a tinny speaker system attached to it is playing (I kid you not) the wedding march, and in a firm, resolute voice, a woman is addressing the world in Chinese. It is the oddest sounding thing in the world. What are they saying? Is it a political campaign? Public service announcement? Disaster warning system? This is not the first time I’ve heard this- it happens often. I just try to ignore it, and I think that eventually I will ask someone what it is later but I always forget, because by the time I run into someone who speaks both English and Chinese, so many other weird and random things have happened that I want to ask about that I forget all about the wedding march and the resolute Chinese woman. But why the wedding march?
Another word about Chinese, the language. I don’t know if it is the tones or the sounds or the way it is spoken, but something about spoken Chinese invokes an acute emotional response in me- I begin to feel anxious. I never felt that way about Italian, or Hawaiian (rather, Hawaiian, spoken by someone who knows how to speak it is like being sung to sleep by a choir of heavenly angels.) Chinese is kind of like the red-headed step child of the language world- spirited, mischievous, and altogether terrifying.
Back to Hess – so yes there I was, chanting like an imbecile in a room full of other chanter’s, yodeling asinine statements over and over like one of those mechanized children’s toys.
“A, A, ah ah ah, this is an apple, B, B, buh buh buh, this is a ball. C, C, cuh cuh cuh…”
While we say this in unison, over and over and over again, a wildly effusive Hess trainer is standing before us, waving her arms, hair flying in every direction like medusa’s snakes, doing actions. For A she throws her hands up like the village people, for apple she holds her hand out as if holding an apple, for B she’s doing jumping jacks so limber that they would make a cheerleader grimace, for ball she’s throwing and catching an imaginary ball with such enthusiasm, such vigor, such joy of life that I’m almost embarrassed to be in the same room with her. And we’re supposed to mimic her! It would have been weird enough already, but we were also competing with the other trainees for points with the promise of a grand prize at the end. The thing is, I do get a little competitive sometimes, and this ‘competition’ had exactly the desired effect on me. I was very nearly standing on my chair, waving my hands menacingly at my fellow trainees.
“I CAN CHANT B, B BUH BUH BUH THIS IS A BALL BETTER THAN ALL Y’ALL, MOTHER #%$@*%$!!!!”
Now I realize that our trainers were trying to train us in the manner that they wanted us to teach the children- meaning lots of enthusiasm, repitition, actions, visuals, games, competitions and headache inducing madness. But was it ever enough for them? No! Was it really necessary for them to turn our brains into mushy balls of slop? NO! And does anybody in their right mind willingly sign up for 10 days straight of this nauseating lunacy? NOOOOO! And yet, there I was.
I think one of my fellow trainees hit it right on the head when, cradling a cheap bottle of Taiwanese beer woefully in her white-knuckled grip, eyes glowing dully with a hint of neurosis, she said, “I think we’ve joined a cult.”
Yes, I think we have.
Which brings me to another, loosely related, possibly boring and not worth your time, philosophical rant…
Sometimes I wonder how people muster up insane amounts of enthusiasm for their jobs. I mean, these Hess trainers for example. When they’re not up in front of the training room, ensuring group stupidity, they seemed like cool people. The kind of person you’d meet at a party or a club and go ha cool person, I’d hang out with them again. They’re normal, nice, even good-looking. Right? You’d never guess that they spent a vast majority of their waking hours screaming “B, B, this is a ball….OOooooooh. Nice. Job. Team. Eeeeelehhhhven. I. see. Your. Good. Actions. You. Have. Earned. A. point!”
(It is hard, in print, to mimic the way they talk. Let’s just say they enunciate to the point that you almost cannot understand them because it’s. such. An. Unnatural. Way. Of. speaking.)
These people are enthusiastic. And it doesn’t seem to matter that they’ve got an English speaking, adult audience right in front of them. They still talked to us as if we were Taiwanese 6 (or possibly 2) year olds. They’re that passionate about their work.
Or are they? Did I fail to notice a firing squad in the back of the room? Would they have been shot if they stopped behaving like maniacal clowns?
Or are they just being paid so well by Hess that they can justify this sort of behavior?
I remember one of my first jobs. I was 17 years old and I was a technician at a lazer tag place. All in all, a super fun job. My friends and I would throw on our own music and dance in the black lights as midgets ran around us shooting each other with plastic guns while wearing electronic vests. Definitely fun.
But nobody at the lazer tag place could understand why I worked so hard during my downtime. Even my managers asked me to calm it down because I was making them look bad. When it was slow, I would go clean something, and not just ‘clean’ it, I would super deep clean whatever it was to the point that it was shining. My co-workers would ask me, “why are you doing that? You’re only making $5.75 an hour.”
And I would respond, “I heard once that if you want to make a million dollars an hour, you should work as if you’re already making that much money. I want to make more money.”
So yeah I was a bit of a show off but who’d have thought it, a couple months down the road I asked for a raise and went from $5.75 an hour to $10 an hour. I was making more than some of my managers!
Anyways though, I ask myself now, where is that sprightly, eager little 17 year old with good work ethic? Did she just up and leave? How is it that I ended up with her body? How come my work ethic now doesn’t compare favorably with that of a slug? Why is it that now, if I can get away with doing less at work, I’ll do less, in fact I’ll do the bare minimum of what I can get away with in order to keep a job…? What happened to me?
I think the change occurred somewhere during that crazy year and a half when I was working 60 hours a week and going to school full time, averaging 3 hours of sleep a night. Somewhere along the line I realized that working so much made me stressed and when I was stressed I hated life and spent a lot of money – which just about brought me back to a middle ground. What is success in life? Is it accomplishing a lot of things, or being happy? Is there a happy medium?
I thought I would be okay with this whole teaching thing cause I really love little kids. as it turns out, I love entertaining the little tykes and making sure they are happy and safe, I don’t give a crap if Taiwanese kids learn English! Seriously! I think they might be better off if they didn’t learn it. If I had my choice, I’d say, ‘let’s go take a walk in the woods, kids, why don’t you stare at a tree for a while and decide to become an artist. Success and money really aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.’ Or better yet, ‘children, it’s high time you paid some serious attention to the wonderful world of surfing. Now paddle, paddle paddle good stand up. Excellent work. Let’s all get some ice cream.’
But hippy guidance counselor isn’t really in my job description, is it? Oh how I wish it were.
Just to bring this around to Hess, let me say that my co-worker spends about 12 hours at the school and only gets paid for 6 of them, at best. It really takes that much time to plan and understand the lessons, and she still feels like she’s behind. I, on the other hand, come an hour or two early. With the exception of my kindy class, my lessons suck. I think I’m naturally good at Kindy. I want to be a good teacher, but am I willing to put 6 hours of unpaid time in every day?
The answer is no. I am not.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Initial training part 2
So I arrived in Taipei and there was a van waiting for me at the airport- a van big enough for my surfboard. So far, so good. I was stoked- incredibly excited to be out of the states and into Taiwan.
Hess had us hooked up in a reasonably nice hotel called The Golden China for the training. They even paid for our accommodations. Awesome.
Training took place at Hess main office, a couple of blocks away from the hotel. The first day of 'training' was a tour of Taipei- they took us to some monuments and temples. I'm not a big fan of guided tours, but it was pretty awesome anyways.
It was on the second day that I started to have my doubts.
Let me be clear about this- it is great that Hess has training. And I still use some of the things I learned there to this day in my teaching. If you come to Taiwan and find your own job, you will probably just observe a couple of classes and this will be your 'training'.
Hess shows proven games to play in class, classroom management ideas, etc.
That said, good god. They do treat you like two year olds through out the training.
Fine- I could handle that, it just meant that I spent all of the breaks in the bathroom gazing forlornly out the window. I'm a person who enjoys some good quiet alone time- there wasn't much of that for 10 days.
My second big issue was the amount of information. There are people more talented than me with better attention spans- and even they probably checked out mentally after a couple of days. It was just so much information, with no real-world application at that point.
(I find that the same problem applies to the lesson plans that Hess students learn- It goes like this- they present a new learning concept, play a game to practice it, and then move on to something else, but there's no real way to link the new thing you learned to the real world, or any way to see how or why it's important. Then they rush on to teach you something new. At the end of it, they give you a test on what you've learned- but right before the test, they basically give you all of the answers, so only an idiot could fail the test. Then they've covered all of their bases- to the parents, they can say 'look, they know the information, they passed the test'
That's why you can walk up to a star Hess student, who's been doing Hess Language School for 3 or 4 years, and say "Hey, what did you do today?" and you will generally be met with a blank stare.)
Here is my excuse for not paying the best attention in training- I had been assured that I was only teaching kindergarten, right? So if they were talking about kindergarten, I paid attention. But when they started talking about the other classes (and there are a lot of them) I was light years away circling the universe.
I might be a little adhd, but I got straight A's in my final year and a half of university. It's not like I'm retarded. It was just a LOT of information. And the games and the mindless chanting! Agggggghhhhhh! There were forty of us- I felt like we were sheep or cattle or something.
A couple of days into the training there were also...crap I can't remember what they called them, but they were basically teaching demonstrations. Maybe it was the way they were introduced or something, but I remember we were all incredibly stressed.
This was the first look I got at a Hess lesson plan. All I remember thinking was "HOLY FREAKING CRAP I am so glad I'm only teaching kindergarten!!!!"
More on the lesson plans later.
It took us trainees the better part of one night to plan the lessons, and everyone seemed nervous but we probably shouldn't have been. By the end of the training only 3 or 4 people had been 'dismissed'.
Speaking of being dismissed- one day I was walking between Hess main office and the hotel and a guy pulled me aside- a foreigner like myself- and he was obviously agitated. He was difficult to understand but I thought he was saying something about how my country had messed with his visa. I think I said something like "Hey man I know a lot of people hate what America is doing in the world but you've got to know how to separate the governments actions from the people's." or something like that. (I think a lot of experienced American travelers have an argument like this at the tip of their tongue. Turns out you don't need it in Taiwan. Most Taiwanese people seem to love America and Americans- probably partially because America is in a large way responsible for Taiwans continued independent existence- through providing arms and support against China. But that's a subject for a different discussion.)
Turns out the guy was saying my 'company' had messed with his visa- he was a trainee who had been dismissed from the previous training.
There were only a few people dismissed from training, but in my estimation, a few is too many. These people had spent hundreds of dollars on health checks, visa stuff, and plane tickets, and would now either have to go back home, or start the whole visa process over again with a different company. I think it goes back to a disconnect between the recruitment department of Hess and the actual schools themselves. I'm not sure how much the recruiters make per person, but I'm going to guess it's a fair amount and they probably sometimes send people they have doubts about- you know, you fling enough stuff at a wall, some of it's going to stick.
Anyways, my teaching demonstration went by with out much of a problem. It seemed like everyone got three positive and three negative comments, and most people got scores in the mid range.
I found out later that the trainers were also rating us on our performance every day and writing comments about us- and these papers would be sent to our branch. Not a huge deal, but it still struck me as a little weird.
Hess had us hooked up in a reasonably nice hotel called The Golden China for the training. They even paid for our accommodations. Awesome.
Training took place at Hess main office, a couple of blocks away from the hotel. The first day of 'training' was a tour of Taipei- they took us to some monuments and temples. I'm not a big fan of guided tours, but it was pretty awesome anyways.
It was on the second day that I started to have my doubts.
Let me be clear about this- it is great that Hess has training. And I still use some of the things I learned there to this day in my teaching. If you come to Taiwan and find your own job, you will probably just observe a couple of classes and this will be your 'training'.
Hess shows proven games to play in class, classroom management ideas, etc.
That said, good god. They do treat you like two year olds through out the training.
Fine- I could handle that, it just meant that I spent all of the breaks in the bathroom gazing forlornly out the window. I'm a person who enjoys some good quiet alone time- there wasn't much of that for 10 days.
My second big issue was the amount of information. There are people more talented than me with better attention spans- and even they probably checked out mentally after a couple of days. It was just so much information, with no real-world application at that point.
(I find that the same problem applies to the lesson plans that Hess students learn- It goes like this- they present a new learning concept, play a game to practice it, and then move on to something else, but there's no real way to link the new thing you learned to the real world, or any way to see how or why it's important. Then they rush on to teach you something new. At the end of it, they give you a test on what you've learned- but right before the test, they basically give you all of the answers, so only an idiot could fail the test. Then they've covered all of their bases- to the parents, they can say 'look, they know the information, they passed the test'
That's why you can walk up to a star Hess student, who's been doing Hess Language School for 3 or 4 years, and say "Hey, what did you do today?" and you will generally be met with a blank stare.)
Here is my excuse for not paying the best attention in training- I had been assured that I was only teaching kindergarten, right? So if they were talking about kindergarten, I paid attention. But when they started talking about the other classes (and there are a lot of them) I was light years away circling the universe.
I might be a little adhd, but I got straight A's in my final year and a half of university. It's not like I'm retarded. It was just a LOT of information. And the games and the mindless chanting! Agggggghhhhhh! There were forty of us- I felt like we were sheep or cattle or something.
A couple of days into the training there were also...crap I can't remember what they called them, but they were basically teaching demonstrations. Maybe it was the way they were introduced or something, but I remember we were all incredibly stressed.
This was the first look I got at a Hess lesson plan. All I remember thinking was "HOLY FREAKING CRAP I am so glad I'm only teaching kindergarten!!!!"
More on the lesson plans later.
It took us trainees the better part of one night to plan the lessons, and everyone seemed nervous but we probably shouldn't have been. By the end of the training only 3 or 4 people had been 'dismissed'.
Speaking of being dismissed- one day I was walking between Hess main office and the hotel and a guy pulled me aside- a foreigner like myself- and he was obviously agitated. He was difficult to understand but I thought he was saying something about how my country had messed with his visa. I think I said something like "Hey man I know a lot of people hate what America is doing in the world but you've got to know how to separate the governments actions from the people's." or something like that. (I think a lot of experienced American travelers have an argument like this at the tip of their tongue. Turns out you don't need it in Taiwan. Most Taiwanese people seem to love America and Americans- probably partially because America is in a large way responsible for Taiwans continued independent existence- through providing arms and support against China. But that's a subject for a different discussion.)
Turns out the guy was saying my 'company' had messed with his visa- he was a trainee who had been dismissed from the previous training.
There were only a few people dismissed from training, but in my estimation, a few is too many. These people had spent hundreds of dollars on health checks, visa stuff, and plane tickets, and would now either have to go back home, or start the whole visa process over again with a different company. I think it goes back to a disconnect between the recruitment department of Hess and the actual schools themselves. I'm not sure how much the recruiters make per person, but I'm going to guess it's a fair amount and they probably sometimes send people they have doubts about- you know, you fling enough stuff at a wall, some of it's going to stick.
Anyways, my teaching demonstration went by with out much of a problem. It seemed like everyone got three positive and three negative comments, and most people got scores in the mid range.
I found out later that the trainers were also rating us on our performance every day and writing comments about us- and these papers would be sent to our branch. Not a huge deal, but it still struck me as a little weird.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Trouble in the middle of HESS initial training: and my weapon against evil- DENIAL!!!
A couple of days into the training, we each called or were called by our HNST (head native speaking teacher, basically your western manager) from our branch.
We'll call my HNST James. My first impression of him over the phone was that he sounded mild-mannered and kind. A couple of minutes into our conversation he said we should discuss my schedule.
My schedule? Two kindergarten classes, I already know.
Noooo he said. You don't have two kindergarten classes.
?
"Fortunately," said James
(I soon learned that if James begins a sentence with 'fortunately', you ought to head screaming for the hills, because what follows will be anything but fortunate)
"fortunately you do have a kindergarten class in the morning. Then on Mondays, wednesdays and Friday's you'll have a class called Treehouse, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays you'll have a class that's just like kindy called jump. Then you'll have HLS classes on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday."
My mind was already racing. There must be a mistake. For the entire training so far I'd been looking at my fellow trainees during the non-kindy sections and thinking 'you shmucks, those classes are going to suck! Thank god I did my research and am only teaching kindergarten.'
I also knew that kindergarten is a morning class, and the buxiban (older children) classes run from 6:30-8:30pm- and have homework and tests to grade, not to mention baffling lesson plans.
Also the schedule he was talking about would be about 32 or 33 hours a week- not exactly the 15 I had dreamed about.
(HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! I actually had thought that I would only be working 33 hours HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! The truth was I would be PAID for 33 hours- I'd be working MUCH much MUCH more.)
But the part that killed me was the 8:30 am start and the 8:30 pm finish...I didn't know when treehouse and jump were, but I wasn't pleased that I was already being forced into a split shift schedule.
I told James that there was a mistake and that I had agreed to a Contract C full time kindy schedule. He replied that Jump class was for kindy aged kids, so it would be almost like a contract C! Wasn't that great?
He told me I could talk to the main office staff and see if there was something else that could be done.
I got off the phone and immediately my mind went into some sort of denying reality survival mode. I just decided that squeaky wheels get the grease and that I'd be a squeaky wheel.
At the end of training, nearly 40 trainees happily lined up to sign their contract. I refused. What an awkward moment. Here I am in a foreign country, my visa is tied to the company I'm working for, I don't have enough money for a flight home, and I'm refusing to sign their contract.
I was told that less kindergarten children had signed up at my branch than expected- that was why my schedule had changed. I was told to go, try it, see if I liked it, and if I didn't, we'd figure something out.
Now I understand that it must be a logistical nightmare to do what Hess does- hundreds of new teachers, thousands of students, crazy scheduling, many unkown variables (will the new teacher pass training, what kids will sign up for which classes, will we have too many or not enough teachers, etc.) and to be fair to Hess they are honest that you may not get the schedule/location that you want. And they did give me exactly the location i wanted. 1 out of two, considering what they're up against, isn't bad.
But I wasn't going for not bad, I was going for good, so this new development sucked.
They must have understood the kindergarten situation long before I boarded the plane to Taiwan. They just didn't tell me until it was convenient- meaning, I was in Taiwan, tied to their visa, with half of their unpaid training behind me.
We'll call my HNST James. My first impression of him over the phone was that he sounded mild-mannered and kind. A couple of minutes into our conversation he said we should discuss my schedule.
My schedule? Two kindergarten classes, I already know.
Noooo he said. You don't have two kindergarten classes.
?
"Fortunately," said James
(I soon learned that if James begins a sentence with 'fortunately', you ought to head screaming for the hills, because what follows will be anything but fortunate)
"fortunately you do have a kindergarten class in the morning. Then on Mondays, wednesdays and Friday's you'll have a class called Treehouse, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays you'll have a class that's just like kindy called jump. Then you'll have HLS classes on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday."
My mind was already racing. There must be a mistake. For the entire training so far I'd been looking at my fellow trainees during the non-kindy sections and thinking 'you shmucks, those classes are going to suck! Thank god I did my research and am only teaching kindergarten.'
I also knew that kindergarten is a morning class, and the buxiban (older children) classes run from 6:30-8:30pm- and have homework and tests to grade, not to mention baffling lesson plans.
Also the schedule he was talking about would be about 32 or 33 hours a week- not exactly the 15 I had dreamed about.
(HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! I actually had thought that I would only be working 33 hours HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! The truth was I would be PAID for 33 hours- I'd be working MUCH much MUCH more.)
But the part that killed me was the 8:30 am start and the 8:30 pm finish...I didn't know when treehouse and jump were, but I wasn't pleased that I was already being forced into a split shift schedule.
I told James that there was a mistake and that I had agreed to a Contract C full time kindy schedule. He replied that Jump class was for kindy aged kids, so it would be almost like a contract C! Wasn't that great?
He told me I could talk to the main office staff and see if there was something else that could be done.
I got off the phone and immediately my mind went into some sort of denying reality survival mode. I just decided that squeaky wheels get the grease and that I'd be a squeaky wheel.
At the end of training, nearly 40 trainees happily lined up to sign their contract. I refused. What an awkward moment. Here I am in a foreign country, my visa is tied to the company I'm working for, I don't have enough money for a flight home, and I'm refusing to sign their contract.
I was told that less kindergarten children had signed up at my branch than expected- that was why my schedule had changed. I was told to go, try it, see if I liked it, and if I didn't, we'd figure something out.
Now I understand that it must be a logistical nightmare to do what Hess does- hundreds of new teachers, thousands of students, crazy scheduling, many unkown variables (will the new teacher pass training, what kids will sign up for which classes, will we have too many or not enough teachers, etc.) and to be fair to Hess they are honest that you may not get the schedule/location that you want. And they did give me exactly the location i wanted. 1 out of two, considering what they're up against, isn't bad.
But I wasn't going for not bad, I was going for good, so this new development sucked.
They must have understood the kindergarten situation long before I boarded the plane to Taiwan. They just didn't tell me until it was convenient- meaning, I was in Taiwan, tied to their visa, with half of their unpaid training behind me.
Monday, April 13, 2009
The surfboard
During the last couple of days of the training, I was becoming increasingly alarmed about my surfboard. At nine feet long it is difficult to transport, and the town that I was moving to was about an hour away from Taipei. Though the people at Hess had reassured me that they would help me take it down to Luodong, I had the strangest feeling that it wasn't going to happen.
So, for the last 3 days of training, I asked several people about my surfboard- never getting a straight answer from anyone but being reassured over and over again. I asked about the mini-bus that would take me to the branch, and they told me I would not take a mini bus but would be on the train. Well...were you allowed to put a long surfboard on the train? I doubted it, but I was willing to try.
So, for the last 3 days of training, I asked several people about my surfboard- never getting a straight answer from anyone but being reassured over and over again. I asked about the mini-bus that would take me to the branch, and they told me I would not take a mini bus but would be on the train. Well...were you allowed to put a long surfboard on the train? I doubted it, but I was willing to try.
All I wanted was a straight answer, and they got annoyed at me for asking questions.
Was it Hess's responsibility to transport my surfboard? Absolutely not.
To be honest, when I had first asked them if they could help me with my surfboard, and they said yes, I kind of felt like I was getting away with something. I figured they would tell me to transport my own damn surfboard. But when they said yes, I figured that maybe they said yes because it would be easy. Maybe they had vans going back and forth between branches all the time. I was just relieved that they said they would help me.
I think this is just Hess's MO with new recruits- “Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah! Sure sure sure! Of course! Whatever you want! Just get your ass to Taipei!”
The morning of our departure from the hotel, I lugged my nine foot board downstairs and waited for our ride to the train station.
“If my board doesn't go,” I remarked to one of the trainers, “I don't go.”
The trainer just rolled his eyes and looked at me like I was incredibly immature- which sure maybe an obsession with surfing CAN be seen as immature- that's fine, he's entitled to his opinions- but if I was repeatedly reassured that I would arrive in Luodong WITH my surfboard, was it immature to believe what they told me?
(besides if you're a surfer, you understand my fear- you don't just want any brute who knows nothing about a surfboard lugging it around. They could bang it against something which could cause a ding which I wasn't sure if I could even fix in Taiwan...seriously if you're a surfer you understand.)
Taxi after taxi rolled up to the hotel entrance and took group after group of happy trainees away. My turn came and you guessed it----- just a regular taxi, incapable of taking my surfboard.
Why the fuck didn't they just TELL me they weren't planning to take it? Then at least I could have attempted, through a translator, to make my own arrangements!!!!
I didn't make good on my promise- I left my surfboard in the care of the hotel and was assured that they would hold it for me at Hess main office. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! I still get mad thinking about it 10 months later.
I tried to shake it off on the train ride so I would be in a good mood when I met my new co-workers. But the foundation was laid. Obnoxious information over load training, changing my schedule with out telling me before I arrived, and lying to me about my surfboard. I seriously hated Hess.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Schedule change
When I arrived in my branch, it was actually pretty sweet- they had a little pizza party for us, and I really liked my new co-workers. I decided to put Hess main office behind me and focus on loving my branch.
I believe I arrived on a Thursday. Two of my co-workers (a Canadian and an American) had graduated from initial training a week before me and had been 'observing' more experienced teachers for a week. I was told that I unfortunately wouldn't get to observe much because I was late (which was ironic because I'd actually asked if I could come to the earlier training group and they said no.)
So on the following Friday, I watched my new co-worker teach her first kindergarten class, and on Saturday, I watched a more experienced teacher give an oral test to his students.
(an oral test is comprised of asking about 20 different students the same 7 or 8 questions individually- not exactly a real example of teaching)
I met my kindergarten class on the Friday before I began work, and fell instantly in love with them.
“Ask them 'what's your name'” said the exhausted looking teacher I was taking over for.
“What's your name?” I asked one little girl as she came toward me. She stared into my eyes and then ran off screaming. This little game was repeated by several of the students. They couldn't seem to stop staring at my eyes- I later found out because they're blue. I was so stoked to meet these little kids. I loved teaching kindergarten.
Anyways, I was then shown my schedule. Teach kindy 8:30 am til 11:30 Monday through Friday. Then on Monday Wednesday and Friday, teach TreeHouse from 4:30 till 6:30. On Tuesday and Thursday, Jump from 4:20 till 6. Then, Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday nights, a different class every night from 6:40 till 8:30.
“This is going to need to change,” I said to James. If he sensed that I would be trouble then, he had no idea how much.
“It can't be changed.” he told me.
“I need it to be changed. Kindy can be from 2 till 4, can't it?”
“No.”
“Yes it can. That would have been one of my classes if I had contract C.”
“Maybe we can change it in a few months.”
“If it changes in a few months, I won't be here to see it change.”
yeah, I wasn't making any friends. I did, however, get a phone call over the weekend telling me that my schedule could indeed be changed and I could start Kindy at 2 pm. That was actually really cool of the branch and I'm still grateful that they were flexible on it.
I believe I arrived on a Thursday. Two of my co-workers (a Canadian and an American) had graduated from initial training a week before me and had been 'observing' more experienced teachers for a week. I was told that I unfortunately wouldn't get to observe much because I was late (which was ironic because I'd actually asked if I could come to the earlier training group and they said no.)
So on the following Friday, I watched my new co-worker teach her first kindergarten class, and on Saturday, I watched a more experienced teacher give an oral test to his students.
(an oral test is comprised of asking about 20 different students the same 7 or 8 questions individually- not exactly a real example of teaching)
I met my kindergarten class on the Friday before I began work, and fell instantly in love with them.
“Ask them 'what's your name'” said the exhausted looking teacher I was taking over for.
“What's your name?” I asked one little girl as she came toward me. She stared into my eyes and then ran off screaming. This little game was repeated by several of the students. They couldn't seem to stop staring at my eyes- I later found out because they're blue. I was so stoked to meet these little kids. I loved teaching kindergarten.
Anyways, I was then shown my schedule. Teach kindy 8:30 am til 11:30 Monday through Friday. Then on Monday Wednesday and Friday, teach TreeHouse from 4:30 till 6:30. On Tuesday and Thursday, Jump from 4:20 till 6. Then, Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday nights, a different class every night from 6:40 till 8:30.
“This is going to need to change,” I said to James. If he sensed that I would be trouble then, he had no idea how much.
“It can't be changed.” he told me.
“I need it to be changed. Kindy can be from 2 till 4, can't it?”
“No.”
“Yes it can. That would have been one of my classes if I had contract C.”
“Maybe we can change it in a few months.”
“If it changes in a few months, I won't be here to see it change.”
yeah, I wasn't making any friends. I did, however, get a phone call over the weekend telling me that my schedule could indeed be changed and I could start Kindy at 2 pm. That was actually really cool of the branch and I'm still grateful that they were flexible on it.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Classes
On Monday I showed up around 12 to prepare my lessons. I figured 2 hours was pretty generous of me – to give that much of my free time with out being paid.
What I saw when I arrived at the branch were my two co-workers (we'll call them Melissa and Brian) in a frenzy.
Both of them had been there since about 7 am, and were eating lunch at the NST desk. Both of them would stay until 9 or 10 pm every night for the next week. That's 14 and 15 hour days, and they were only getting paid for 6.5 of those hours. I promised myself that I would not make the same mistake. If they wanted me to spend that much time at the school, they would have to pay me for it.
I think the difference between how I handled the situation and how Melissa and Brian handled it could be chalked up to experience.
I had had jobs since I was 12, and had been working full time since I was 17, sometimes holding up to 3 part time jobs at one time. Ya know that insane desire one usually feels to please their boss on their first job?
Yeah, mine was gone. I figured most jobs were lucky to have me, and not the other way around.
Good attitude? no. And definitely not a good attitude for a new teacher to have. Teaching takes preparation. A LOT of preparation. But I hadn't signed up for a salary job and they weren't paying me enough for me to be coming in on my own time.
(In America I had been making more than double the hourly wage for easier work. I realize that cost of living was much lower in Taiwan, but then again that was the whole reason I'd come to Taiwan- to work less and save more.)
Anyways for my first week my Kindy class was great (I had KNOWN I'd be good at Kindy, that's why I had requested it!!!) But my other classes left a little something to be desired. I would show up around 1:30, which was plenty of time to plan for Kindy, but then I'd just kind of wing my other classes.
I figured they had given me classes that I hadn't agreed to in the first place. Yes, the first contract I had signed said "I agree to accept all hours given to me." but I had signed it and scanned it and emailed it to them. I don't think that's legally binding, and I had not signed the real contract in Taipei- after I knew what the classes entailed.
If they didn't like the job I was doing, they'd have to give me the schedule they had promised me, or fire me.
Am I proud of this?
No. Those kids deserved better- and their parents deserved better, for the money they were paying.
And my Chinese co-teachers deserved better- when i fell down on the job, it was the other teachers, the kids, and the parents who lost out- not Hess, who in my mind had caused the problem in the first place.
It was this realization that caused me to donate shocking amounts of my free time to Hess over the coming 10 months.
What I saw when I arrived at the branch were my two co-workers (we'll call them Melissa and Brian) in a frenzy.
Both of them had been there since about 7 am, and were eating lunch at the NST desk. Both of them would stay until 9 or 10 pm every night for the next week. That's 14 and 15 hour days, and they were only getting paid for 6.5 of those hours. I promised myself that I would not make the same mistake. If they wanted me to spend that much time at the school, they would have to pay me for it.
I think the difference between how I handled the situation and how Melissa and Brian handled it could be chalked up to experience.
I had had jobs since I was 12, and had been working full time since I was 17, sometimes holding up to 3 part time jobs at one time. Ya know that insane desire one usually feels to please their boss on their first job?
Yeah, mine was gone. I figured most jobs were lucky to have me, and not the other way around.
Good attitude? no. And definitely not a good attitude for a new teacher to have. Teaching takes preparation. A LOT of preparation. But I hadn't signed up for a salary job and they weren't paying me enough for me to be coming in on my own time.
(In America I had been making more than double the hourly wage for easier work. I realize that cost of living was much lower in Taiwan, but then again that was the whole reason I'd come to Taiwan- to work less and save more.)
Anyways for my first week my Kindy class was great (I had KNOWN I'd be good at Kindy, that's why I had requested it!!!) But my other classes left a little something to be desired. I would show up around 1:30, which was plenty of time to plan for Kindy, but then I'd just kind of wing my other classes.
I figured they had given me classes that I hadn't agreed to in the first place. Yes, the first contract I had signed said "I agree to accept all hours given to me." but I had signed it and scanned it and emailed it to them. I don't think that's legally binding, and I had not signed the real contract in Taipei- after I knew what the classes entailed.
If they didn't like the job I was doing, they'd have to give me the schedule they had promised me, or fire me.
Am I proud of this?
No. Those kids deserved better- and their parents deserved better, for the money they were paying.
And my Chinese co-teachers deserved better- when i fell down on the job, it was the other teachers, the kids, and the parents who lost out- not Hess, who in my mind had caused the problem in the first place.
It was this realization that caused me to donate shocking amounts of my free time to Hess over the coming 10 months.
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