I may have mentioned how much I hate Saturdays. Well, today was something special. I went up to my class and some of the kids in the classroom across the hall were SCREAMING. I mean, there's the usual level of ruckus you'd expect from a hundred kids tromping up and down stairs going in and out of classes, but these girls were putting out hypersonic squeels that nearly made my eardrums bleed. I looked in the door to see if a teacher was there but didn't see anyone, so I poked my head in and shushed them good. Of course then I turned around and noticed that the teacher *was* in there, just sitting at her desk preparing for the class. D'oh! I said a quick 'sorry' and left. But ooooh, not okay to go in and discipline another teacher's kids... but honestly - I couldn't believe she could sit there and even attempt to look at her book with the kids screeching like that.
Have I mentioned that I don't like kids?
Anyway, with that pleasant little encounter, and three hours of class behind me I came downstairs to get ready for round two. There's a computer set up in the hallway near the teacher's room for the kids to play on before & after class. No problem except when the kids all pull up chairs and make it impossible for teachers to actually *get* to the teacher's room.
This particular day I was attempting to maneuver around the kids when the most horrid smell I've ever encountered wafted over to me. At first it smelled like some unholy combination of body odor and garbage. But a second later there was a wave of eau d'industrial cleaner. When I opened the door into the teachers lounge it was almost unbearable.
"Oh you missed your opportunity to try Durian!" said Jim, an older teacher from England.
"Is *that* what that was?!" I replied stifling my gag reflex to the best of my abilities.
Despite the fact that the durian had been consumed and disposed of before I got there I could still smell it - FROM THE HALLWAY! That's some powerful stank! I'd had no particular desire to try durian in the first place... but this just solidified it in my mind. No way, no how. If I never see or smell it again, I'll be just fine!
I left the teacher's room as soon as I could, but still had to make a couple trips back in there for one thing or another. Gah! Horrid. Jim stated, quite placidly that while he liked the fruit he was slightly bothered by the disinfectant they use on it (the second layer I smelled). Good LORD it was nasty! It's like the smell of every bodily function left to simmer in the sun by the side of the road absorbing a day or two's worth of pollution. The idea of someone eating it - it just boggles my mind. I really wonder if it's a genetic thing or not - your ability to tolerate the smell/taste of durian.
But I'm really not willing to investigate the matter.
TAG: Code Durian (Get me the hell out of the teacher's room!)