Well we arrived on time for our sign language assessment, which makes a change for us.
Sitting in the room with the other students, waiting to be called in, we all quickly flicked through our folders trying to find words we might have forgotten and rehearsing our speeches.
As each student left the room one by one at ten minute intervals it was like watching them walk off to the gallows! They left room and never returned.
Finally it came to my turn. Giving Brad a "I-can't-fucking-do-this!" grin I was lead down to the waiting room. There, on the board, were three subjects. Berni, our sign language teacher, signed that I had to choose one of the subjects to sign about. I had about ten minutes to be alone and rehearse my chosen subject. She would then come and get me and take me to the assessment room and the torment would really being. She reminded me that I had to sign my full name when she asked for it and to interrupt her at some point and say I didn't understand, even if I did, as it was one of the competencies during the exam. She also reminded me to make sure it was a conversation and to ask her questions now and then. Finishing all that she left.
Those ten minutes were actually only about five but it felt like an hour. I looked at the subjects I could choose from.
- Getting to work.
- People I know.
- My work.
So, getting to work... how easy would that one be? Well very but could I keep a conversation going for five minutes? No. I get in my car and drive seven miles. It takes me 15 minutes in rush hour. All that can be said in six signs!
Looking at the subject of "People I Know" I thought about it and decided this was a crap subject. I know my partner, my mother, my father, my brothers, my myriad of friends on and off the internet. All I'd be doing is naming them and describing them. Not only boring but too repetitive and simple.
Okay, "My Work" it is. Of course the truth is that about four weeks ago she told us what the subjects might be and work was one of them so Brad and I have been practising that one for weeks now so it was the obvious choice.
Finally Berni arrived back with Brad following her. As I stood in the door way she explained to Brad what he had to do, the same way she had to me five minutes earlier, then she took me into the assessment room.
Sally was sat filming us so an independent assessor can see us sign and there was a woman there as well, monitoring that we didn't cheat. This woman cannot sign and is capable of keeping one eye on the door and one eye on us at all times.
I sit down and Berni asks me what I think about todays weather. I tell her it's been raining a bit but still sunny and warm. We had a small conversation about the weather we liked and disliked and then she asked me my name. This was the obvious start of the exam. I asked her what her name was, even though I knew it, and then signed it back to her and then she asked me if I'd been at work today. So off I go, talking about work. I break into my rehearsed speech about what I do when she stops me and then asks me what my chosen subject was. This was the start of the exam!
So once again I start talking about work, what I do, where and who for and arrival times, break times and lunch etc. I ask her where she works and she starts to finger spell the answer.
"T...... E....." she starts.
"Ah, teaching!" I thought! Yes, it might sound obvious that that's her job but she changes details to test us. I just took it that she had stuck with teaching as this was our final exam. All that thought took place in milliseconds because my next was "Oh fuck! She's not finger spelling teaching!"
"C..... O......" she finished and then smiled at me.
I was lost. What were the fucking letters in between. Where does an O come into teaching? Shit! Shit! Shit!
Then it hits me! This is my chance to ask her to repeat herself. So she does and this time I watch her fingers intently like they were all the mattered in the world.
"T..... E..... S..... C..... O....."
One fucking letter! That's all I'd missed! I grinned as she said it because in my head I was thinking "You don't work work at Tesco!"
I asked her if she enjoyed but she said no, then I asked her what time her lunch break was and what she had for lunch.
"An apple," she signed, "and salad and sometimes I'll have an orange as well."
"I don't like oranges," I signed, "I'm allergic to them!"
And that was it. That one sentence made up of three signs was my downfall! For the rest of my time, which seemed to last for half an hour I did nothing but talk about how I was allergic to oranges! I was supposed to be talking work but no, I talked about how oranges made me ill. Anything citrus. Not work, not people I know and not even travelling to work! Oranges!
Fuck!
Once everyone was done we all headed off to the rugby club for a drink to wait for Berni to finish with her other students and then we all headed off for a vile meal in a lovely pub. Rare steak with no blood (sorry veggies) followed by Kwik Saves own brand cheese cake made from cardboard and strawberry jam.
After the meal we sat in the bar and signed about phobias and started telling jokes.
As the night ended we offered Neil and Ellen a lift home. Now Neil is okay. A good bloke with a sense of humour and someone who is willing to get a sign wrong to show he's at least trying to sign, unlike me who'll happily sign away with all the wrong signs and hope someone understands me.
Ellen is boring.
Ellen is more than boring.
She made me want to take my shoe off and hit her with it. When it came to the jokes she stumbeled through, at least trying, but not only were they not funny, she then proceeded to tell them again... in case anyone didn't hear her or understand the signs. Now, I'm not exaggerating anything here. She quite literally made a point of telling the joke twice and it still wasn't funny! At deaf club one night, while talking about pets, Brad told a story about our cats, I told one about our dogs and Ellen said "My dog sat at the back door and looked at me!" Oooooooh the wonder of an Ellen story!
As Ellen got out the car she said "well I don't know how I'm going to get there on Friday night!" - we're all going into Swansea for a night oot! Not thinking she was going I'd already offered Neil a lift and with Rach and Dale in the car as well there won't be room for her. I don't feel guilty in the slightest. I did... just a little bit... until she then repeated that she didn't know how she was going to get there... and then talked about how her mother and father and sister would not come into Swansea to get her... and how she didn't know how she was going to get there... and how she wasn't sure if she could make.... and how she didn't know how she was going to get.... and how she wasn't sure if she could go because she wasn't sure how she was going to get there!
Shut the fuck up! I get the point! You want a lift! Tough shit! My car is now full!
Gah!
All in all it was a very enjoyable night, if not a little stressful.
