Enough Is Enough Is Enough

Where am I now, you ask?

I'm at an internet cafe in the sticks of Berlin.

Where was I 4 hours ago? Same cafe. But it was full. No internet now, sorry.

Where was I 2 1/2 hours ago? Same cafe. But it was full. No internet now, sorry.

Where was I 25 minutes ago? Same damn cafe. But it was full. No internet now, sorry.

Don't worry, some rude German cut me in line when ONE COMPUTER FINALLY OPENED UP.


But that's just the preface to the day that exploded: today.

This could be my last week doing this job. I've about had it. I travel every week to some different campsite with a suitcase of old supplies. Broken markers, water-stained paper, broken pencils. Where I play the same worn out game of Capture the Flag on dry, yellowing fields littered with broken beer bottles and cigarrette butts. I spend 8, long hours with bratty German children who have no desire to learn English. No respect. None. No "thank you" for the delicious icecream. Can't be bothered to do anything. "Oh, I don't want to play that game." "Must I play with?" Oh, for heaven's sake go sit at home and watch television.

The kids don't listen. They don't listen. Say it in English, they don't listen. Say it in German, they don't listen. Act it out, they don't pay attention. I would like to use a lot of choice words here to describe these children, but I won't. I will say, they don't give a flying fishstick though. Don't want to learn English. Don't want to eat this for lunch. Don't want to play this game now. Don't want to write in their journals. Don't want to act in this play. They just can't be bothered.

"No children, I'm eating right now and I can't get you some apple juice."
"No children, I can't listen to 3 people at the same time."
"No children, I can't let you eat the last sausage when 4 counselors haven't even eaten yet."
"No children, I don't want to spend any more time than I have to with you."


Just so none of you think I'm legitimately insane for accepting this job position I would like to make note of a couple things. To do this, I will be organized (unlike this camp) and write a concise list.

"Things I Was Told Before I Got This Miserable Job":

- You will have an awesome apartment right in the middle of Berlin.
- All of the counselors will be together on the weekends in Berlin and we'll go out and party.
- You get to go kayaking and canoeing and rock climbing at the over night camps. They are all right on the lake.
- You will get paid 1270 Euros a month (this is actually written on my contract).

This next list is entitled,

"A Response to Aforementioned List":

- Bull shit.
- Bull shit.
- Bull shit.
- Bull shit.


Here's the thing, I bitch and moan and someone tells me, "Just make it through. Just do it."

No. I'm sorry, but that's not the point. I am doing it. And, I'm doing a damn good job. I'm great at it, really. I can do it. And I can do it well. For what? For snotty kids who can't say thank you? For arrogant parents who only want to be rid of their children for 8 hours a day? For $300 a week? For a boss who can't even say "good job" or "well done", only, "I think you may be doing a good job. Kids, they are happy." For a life of chaos, nasty food, sleeping bags and spiders?

So you tell me, what's the point? This job is underpaid, unappreciated, and poorly accommodated.

Currently, I'm living in a tiny Boy Scout house with daddy long legs and moths everywhere. It's damp, dark and smells like an old shoe. And I'm getting treated like poo on the bottom of the old shoe I'm living in.

When is enough enough? I'd say it's pretty darn close.


If my next entry is from Paris don't be surprised.