The year that was 2023

 It's been another year of ups and downs. A recent trip to Montalbano and Godfather country (Sicily) to celebrate 25 years of marriage was certainly an "up", despite a burst tyre three minutes before reaching our first hotel (the "down"). However, I would place the highlight of my year as learning about goalball and watching it played 'live' at the recent "Blind Games" (IBSA: International Blind Sport Federation).

 Back in August I decamped once again to a university in the Midlands to teach EAP (English for Academic Purposes) to incoming international pre-Master's students. Seven weeks away.

I really do enjoy teaching these students. Most of them come from university cultures where they do not question the authorities and certainly not their professors. They were used to quoting their professors in order to get a good grade! Talk about stroking egos. 

Imagine their surprise when I tell them that, "Look! Teachers do not have all the answers. We make mistakes, too." In this country, you are welcome to challenge the professors. Demonstrate you can think critically on any subject. Just because so-and-so says this is true, how do we check/prove/gather evidence to believe that to be true?

As such, the UK universities are doing a great job sending these graduates back to their dictatorial regimes where, hopefully, they could make a political difference in years to come. Yes, little drops of water. It only takes a spark. Et cetera.

Anyway, the tutors were put in this student accommodation complex requiring a 15-minute walk to and from the classrooms. While my hip was OK this year (an "up"), my dodgy knee played up ("down"). I put it down (!) to having to lug the heavy university-issue laptop in my rucksack. It got better when I decided to use a laptop bag, thus shifting the centre of gravity (down) a little, which appeared to help ("up").

One day I came 'home' to see flags and banners welcoming athletes to the "blind games". "Blind games?", I said, "You're having a laugh."

But then from my shared kitchen window I saw them arriving. Busload after busload of athletes. I still had no idea what was happening as no one told us anything.

I saw the guide dogs. I saw the foldable white canes. I saw the long walking sticks with a ball at the end of it. I saw how the athletes put one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of them as four or five walked like a little human caterpillar to their accommodation, trusting an athlete who had slightly better sight.

Eventually we, the tutors, realised that we were sharing the accommodation complex with a huge number of athletes as the complex had been designated a "transport hub".

From my bedroom window on the other side of the building I saw the national flags go up. What is most telling was the noise. Loud chatter in the open air and shared kitchens, doors slamming, loud music.

The GB team blasting "Eye of the Tiger" as motivational music was understandable, but man, as the tutors all thought as one, we are trying to prep lessons and grade work. Could you please pipe down a little? Please, please?

A sighted volunteer at the hub office apologised on their behalf, "You know they are blind, or visually-impaired, right? They cannot see the other people using the complex." They were not aware of other non-athletes trying to write dissertations and complete academic tasks. All that loud music could be "psychological warfare". Fair enough.

I found myself searching out all the information and Youtube coverage I could find about goalball. It was so surreal to see a national team emerging from their block of flats, often cheered and applauded by the others not due to play a game, their being led to the bus waiting at the entrance to the complex, and then seeing them, an hour later, using their bodies to block a belled ball from going into a net, 'live' on Youtube. 

Their meals were served in another complex five minutes walk away. I meet them every day as I walked to work and they were walking back. I remembered to step aside to let them pass as sometimes they did not see me. I wished them "Good morning" and they replied with courtesy.

In the laundry room some tall and very large American athletes needed help to get the machines going. One of these tall ones offered to load my wet clothes into the dryer which was a bit too high for me to reach. I declined. No, not going to let a male stranger handle all my smalls!  😂

These were people with disabilities trying to live ordinary lives, but in a most extraordinary way. I have utmost admiration for them, every single one.

Two weeks after they first arrived, they left. As busload after busload left for the airport, I felt rather forlorn. I sank ("down") into depression for a little while and had to psyche myself to get out of it. I was missing the hubbub, it seemed. 

Some other thoughts about goalball/levelling up/down here: 

Overcoming obstacles or the blind leading the blind? (NB. The final sentences were written with an election in mind.)

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I am still happy ("up") to be making and selling hankies in between more cerebral projects and assignments (like giving a lecture on 'sociology of work'). 

A definite "down" was to discover that despite paying extra for a service, my confirmation emails to customers were marked [Spam?]. It took me some time to sort this out. 

The accountant will not be impressed by the numbers this year. Just hanging on in there. I plan to return to doing more crafty and embroidery work soon.

Do note: Second Class Large Letter stamp is now £1.55. I am still charging £1.44 for orders that require a £1.55 stamp. Once my old stamps run out, I will have to revise the P&P.

Thank you once again for your support!

We look forward to your visit at Organic-Ally.