A Very Uncomfortable Suit

Image via Tom Häkkinen
A rainy afternoon at Circular Quay.

I have nothing against suits. Regular readers might remember my article about wearing a tie in an Australian public school. But this particular suit that I met today might explain why some people do dislike “suits”.

Catching the ferry into the city again this morning, I felt something of a trailblazer, as, on account of a minuscule spattering of rain, all of the other ferry commuters were huddled inside, and no-one else was standing on the outside decks. So, Columbus like, I showed the way by opening the door to the front deck and bravely standing out in the elements. Truly the rain was insignificant, it was like a Hertfordshire spring shower, some of the rain drops were so tiny that they didn’t even fall down, instead just swirling about in the air, but still the open deck at the front of the ferry remained empty except for myself. Looking back, the doors to the inside area of the ferry resembled the doors to the Hydrotherapy pool at your local public baths - all fogged-up and sweaty. I was perplexed that I was really the only one who preferred the fresh sea air to a room packed with wet human beings.

As the ferry got moving, some others also came out onto the front deck. Obviously following my brave example. By the time we’d reached Circular Quay, I was in a state of complete content, conscious that I should savour the serene beauty of this rainy morning on the harbour.

However, I soon discovered that at least one of the suits who’d ventured out onto the open-air front deck was an unwilling convert to the outdoors lifestyle. After struggling with the door back into the ferry and in an obvious state of agitation he turned to me, stuttering and stammering to release all of the obscenities he thought necessary to explain the “disgraceful” level of service on the ferry, he complained that the air-conditioning in the ferry had broken down.

Image via Tom Häkkinen
Sunset over Port Jackson.

He was indifferent to my attempt at being agreeable and completely ignored my comment that yes, inside it was in fact “like a sauna”. Perhaps because I had ignored my own advice from last week’s blog and pronounced sauna like it is in Finnish (rhymes with shower, not corner); or more likely because he had made a bee-line to someone who would be much more useful for the purposes of expressing grievances. As I overheard him repeating his complaint to a member of staff (this time sans obscene language), I realised that he wasn’t in fact making friendly conversation, rather I was just the first person unfortunate enough to come within range of spraying out a load of invective.

When I got off at Circular Quay, instead of jumping on the first available train, I walked another 7 minutes to the next nearest train station, just to savour a little more the lovely peace and quiet afforded by the rain.

NB: I didn't have the presence of mind to take photos of Circular Quay on my rainy morning trip - so rainy afternoon photos will have to suffice.

Back to School

Image via Wikipedia

Summer holidays have finally come to an end and I am teaching again. The difference in atmosphere between Australian schools and English schools hit me straight away. First of all was the lax dress standards. On my first day teaching in England I wanted to make a good impression on the new school and therefore came in a collared shirt - so much for my standards of looking presentable, I was “busted” for wearing jeans. Dress standards at my Hertfordshire school were strictly slacks and collared shirt, on top of that I noticed ties were more or less obligatory as well, judging by what all other male teachers were wearing.

I told a this story of my surprise to other members of staff when in England. Explaining that the only time I ever felt out of place for wearing jeans in an Australian school was when every other male member of staff were lounging around in t-shirts and shorts. Of course, I got the impression that English teachers just considered this a wild exaggeration of the notorious “she’ll be right”, “no worries” attitude of Australians. In fact, by the end of my year in Hertfordshire, I’d even begun to doubt the veracity of the story myself.

But sure enough, walking into the staffroom this morning, on a 36 degree day, what sight do you imagine met my eyes? Yes, shorts and t-shirts!

“Mate, you’re gonna have to lose the tie.”

Was the reception I got entering the staffroom. On the other hand, female members of staff complimented me on the collared shirt and tie and took jabs at the other men to follow suit. But the banter was playful and self deprecating throughout. I’m not sure whether to continue trying to maintain a good standard of dress code or to just cave in and go back to jeans and a polo (I was never really t-shirt and shorts material).