Two weeks into my stay in San Francisco, I don’t have a whole lot to report.
My flight was uneventful, and just like that I was three time zones further west, roughly an eighth of the way round the world.
A friend has asked me to keep an eye on his place while he’s away, and I have generously consented. (In truth, he’s doing me a colossal favor, and not for the first time.)
Incidentally, my friend is an accomplished traveler, and I’m hoping he’ll visit me when I’m halfway around the world. Even now, he’s doing business in the Middle East, and when he’s not hard at work, he’s taking in wonders like Petra that I’m dying to see for myself when the time comes.
His place in San Francisco is right by the water, and there’s a fishing pier where I can sit and listen to the clinking of the moored boats and drift like Otis Redding.
The only downside is no Internet, which is an impediment to job and apartment hunting, not to mention nascent blogging. Fortunately, a couple places around here offer free wifi with or without a purchase. And it gets me out of the house.
I’ve been walking everywhere I go, averaging maybe four or five miles a day. Last Wednesday and Thursday, it was six each, I figured out. Which is the way to get to know a city, in my view.
Only, the neighborhood is pretty spread out. Expansive. It’s seven blocks to Market Street, each block an eighth of a mile, and the hustle-bustle doesn’t begin until Market is well in view. That’s heading northwest. Heading southwest across the numbered streets, the blocks are even longer, and attractions are fewer and farther between. So a lot of the walking I’m doing is simply that, as opposed to proper exploring.
The reason I know the mileage for Wednesday and Thursday is that both days brought me out to the school where I want to teach. That’s been my biggest success so far: discovering this place, and getting my foot in the door by subbing a class.
I came across the school while looking through expired Craigslist ads. What caught my eye was that it was nonprofit; my last school was nonprofit, and it was by far the best job I’ve ever had. No dress code, no paperwork, no meetings. No interference. Everyone there because they wanted to be, enthusiastic about what they were doing.
This school in San Francisco turned out to be every bit as laid back as I had hoped. I showed up without an appointment, casually dressed, and out of breath and a bit sweaty from the hills I climbed getting there. None of it seemed to count against me. I had a chat with the director, who was about my age and easygoing, and it turned out they needed a sub the following night. Easy as that.
And subbing itself went swimmingly, thanks in no small part to the five very cool students in the class. I’m a year out of practice, but it didn’t feel that way. Of course, the kind of teaching I do isn’t very complicated. It’s about equal parts hanging out with people from other countries and examining the workings of the language, both of which I find fascinating but not at all difficult.
Anyway, I think my job hunt is over, even though I don’t have a job. I know where I want to work. I couldn’t take the hassles of a profit-minded academy now that I know there’s a better option out there.
My plan for closing the deal at this school is pretty simple: let them know I’m dying to work there, and then stay close at hand, ready to sub or pick up classes at a moment’s notice. The main thing is that when something comes up, I want them to know who to call. And by “call,” I mean call out to the reception area, or the teachers’ room, or the neighborhood coffee shop downstairs, since I’ll have taken to hanging around like a hopeful stray.
That’s the plan. Here’s hoping it works.
