Telemarketing time wasters

So I received a call on my cell phone the other day. It went like this:

Me: This is Val.
She: Hi, is this Ghustaive? (the U pronounced as in ‘bus’ and not ‘goose’.)
Me: No, this is Val.
She: Can I speak to Ghustaive?
Me: No, this is not his number.
She: Is this 0839825042?
Me: Yes.
She: And this is not Ghustaive’s number?
Me: No, this is my phone number, that is why I am answering the phone. What is it in connection with?
She: Well if you are not Ghustaive, then you wouldn’t know if I told you.
Me: Well, this is my phone number you dialled so perhaps I am allowed to ask.
She: And you say you are…?
Me: Val.
She: So how can you both have the same number?

The Worst Broadband Offering in the World

Services providers have been the bain of my existence, and I'm sure yours, dear reader, since the history of the beginning of the development of the human species towards a technologically advanced era.

It is ironic that the more we think we are progressing, the less we actually get anywhere. I speak as a South African living in Joburg, you understand.

Johannesburg has been around as a 'place to be' for 124 years. Telkom, and its evolution, has been around since 1991, which makes it 19 years old. I thought I heard on the radio yesterday that they were boasting the acquisition of new cables to their existing system in a deal with SEACOM. But I struggle to get excited these days. They can knock themselves out laying cables undersea but what good is that to me when they can't even get my cable at home working.

The first one was struck by lightning. It took about 5 days to fix. One week later, it was split in two, because a truck drove down the street and the bloody cable was strung across it. That took 4 days to fix. 2 weeks later, the same thing happened, and they responded in 4 days. This is only due to my screaming insanely and threatening to slit my wrists. Yet another week later, and that feeling of deja vu was very strong indeed. I was beginning to think the internet gods were punishing me.

I must also inform you that the internet is my work. Without it, I cannot work. And if the gods were constantly slashing my cable what message should I draw from this? Were they trying to tell me to stop working so hard? Take a break Val, there's more to life than the internet. Or perhaps they were merely telling me to fire Telkom.

So with my cable strewn across the lawn like a limp and dead fish, neglected and forlorn, I thought, OK, I have been patient with the call centre morons, I have begged, pleaded, sweet-talked, and finally shouted - everything but bribed. I have asked to speak to a senior person, who was, of course, in a meeting, what do you expect? And who is apparently very good at returning calls, according to the call fault reporting 10212 kippie. In the end, I decided to take my power back. I can't control them, so I'll go somewhere else. Hah! That was the joke of the week.

On the line to Neotel:
Me: I'm looking for telecommunication options, tell me do you have coverage over my area?
Him: What's your full address?
I give it to him
Silence.
After a while he finally informs me that he is busy checking.
Me: Ok, so while we're busy waiting, could you tell me about your service?
Him: Uh... (and a second of brain dead silence)
Me: What is your contract period,what options are available, I am a new customer, I know nothing about you. What can you tell me to help me decide if I want to use you or not?
Him: Well, you've actually come through to the technical department. Let me put you through to sales.
And with that he was gone. I guess he's still waiting to check if there is coverage at the address I gave him.

Sales: Mumble mumble speaking. How can I help you?
Me: I am a new customer. I'm looking for reliable internet connectivity. I know nothing about Neotel. Can you help?
Sales: How much would you like to spend a month?

And so it went. After 5 minutes of grilling, I recieved no help at all. It was like extracting missing brain cells from a headless chicken.

Finally I asked: So is it possible for you to find out whether there is coverage in my area?
Sales: Sorry, you will have to try and call back later, our system is down.
And with that I made up my mind that if that was teh service I was getting before I even got it, then I don't want it.

Teach Engrish? But you Chinese!

Sometime at the beginning of this year I had an irrational urge to scratch an itch I have had for over a decade. I don't recall exactly how it all came about but it was one of those classic "I woke up one morning" moments and when loverboy sat down to have dinner that evening, I, unabashed, boldly announced that I was going to teach English in China.

I wanted to immerse myself, come out on the other side confidently strutting around Chinatown conversing fluently with the locals, I pictured myself flowing with the tai chi ball between my palms. Loverboy just looked at me and carried on chewing beetroot.

The weeks that followed went along fairly fluidly as we both went along our business as if we were merely buying a new television set. I was doing some enquiries on the best courses to take, and he was busy as usual with earning a living.

Now take heed all ye who want to TEFL in Asia, I have done all the research you can possibly think of, you may want to peruse this blog before you go through the rigmarole yourself.

Firstly, if you do not have a degree, you will not be able to work legally. Boy, why didn't any of the course institutions tell me this in the beginning? Okay , so o intellectual one, you have a degree, but you have never taught anything or anyone before in your life and your degree major was ceramic firing. No problemo, if you have the time and the cash, there are courses that will cover the basics. The rest is up to you.

For the sake of brevity, I will not take you on the long journey of all the different courses available, the important things to know are:
Do NOT do an online course, unless you're a student wanting to take a month or three off to teach. If you're serious about teaching, whether it is for 6 months, a year, or indefinitely, and especially if you are making a career change, a CELTA (Cambridge accredited) or TESOL (Trinity accredited)course are the only 2 choices.

Another valuable piece of information I established was that it is in your favour to apply in the city or country where you plan to teach. Besides the higher chance of finding work, the acclimatisation into another culture is invaluable. For some the culture shock may be too much to bear, by studying and living in the country, by the end of 4 weeks, you should have a pretty good idea of whether you want to, or can tolerate the strange conditions. If you're young and adaptable, its all part of the rich tapestry. If you are not, and are not used to living in small spaces, sharing one bathroom and toilet amongst 5 people, you may go into mild depression. Of course, if you can afford it, you can book into a hotel. But, and here is another thing you may want to know: don't expect to a good salary in the beginning. Food is cheap, accommodation, if you are willing to share with other students, or do a homestay, is cheap, but unless you are a top earner, a decent hotel may be beyond your reach.

If you intend applying in various cities, as I did, realise that just because you have applied and passed the interview in one city, doesn't qualify you for acceptance in another. I applied in 4 cities. And each time the application form took me hours on end to complete. Some applications were 20 pages long. The form consists mainly of a grammar test, which is used to assess whether you are worthy of an interview, which is conducted via telephone or skype if both parties are in different cities.

Through the curtain of tears everytime I thought of leaving my cat, my goldfish and my loverboy, the determination of finding a TEFL job was still as strong as ever. So armed with ADSL line and laptop, I sat for gruelling, butt-crunching sessions trawling my options, my chances, for how to get the best shot out of this madness.

Shock turned into dismay turned into horror. It was apartheid all over again. Here I was, a South African born Chinese, discriminated against whilst living under the White regime, now not dark enough to be considered 'previously disadvantaged' under the ANC rule, suddenly feeling like an abondoned child because her mother didn't like the look of her.

I dodged a bullet. So here is my advice to you if you look anything but pure and lilly white: If you are serious about TEFL in China, don't be. They do not take learning English seriously. It is a country that will pick you for the colour of your hair and eyes and never mind that the Philipino with the teacher's degree in English literature with 5 years experience is waiting in the wings for that job. It is a country that is mind-numbingly superficial and racist with a view of the western world as distorted as their cheap plastic rose-tinted glasses.

My response to all my interviewers when they enquired why I chose not to do the course anymore: Once I was facinated by China, the country, its culture and its people, now I am merely dissapointed. Interesting how an itch that can last 15 years can take 2 months of scatching to make it all go away.

Morning tug-of-war

For the past few days I've been waking up every morning with the thought of having a muscle-rippling male person lying next to me, all solid and soft at the same time. It makes me want to lie in some more. So I resist the usual pre-programmed auto-response to reach out for the morning talk show host on my left to thrust me into reality, because the faint imaginery chemistry on my right draws me closer to what seems so much more appealing.

As I turn towards him, he stirs and turns, looking at my naked face. And in the half light of the early morning, I see the soft, scrapey stubble of his beard. It moves towards my vulnerable lips, and I think to myself, does my breath smell? And then realise how ridiculous that is. For one, my breath never smells, not even in the morning, and for another, can a figment of one's imagination, no matter how powerful, smell, for pete's sake. And with this profound question lingering in my head, I laugh at my silliness, turn around, reach out for my talk show host, and get the hell out of bed.