Are We on the Same Page?

At the end of last semester, Ek, one of the teachers at my school whom I had sort of gotten to be friends with got a job at a school closer to her home.  When a teacher moves schools a contingent from her old school goes to her new school to send her off.  The size and composition of this contingent depends on the school and the school’s director.  If the school is a high school, sometimes the entire school will accompany the teacher, in which case the students get a day off.  In the case of elementary schools, usually it’s just the director and the section heads.  The teacher who is moving has no official say in the decision.  I found all of this out after the fact as you’ll see below.

I first heard from one of my co-teachers that Ek had gotten a new job.  My co-teacher asked me if I was going to the new school to send her off, to which I replied that I wanted to but didn’t know.  She said that she wanted to go too but wasn’t sure if there would be room for her.   Over the course of the next several days, various teachers and administrative personnel asked me if I was going and who I was going with, to which I consistently answered that I wanted to go but didn’t know who I could go with, because in fact, I didn’t.  I had no idea who else was going, or if I was actually supposed to go or not.  No one had officially invited me or offered me a ride.  And I thought that my saying repeatedly that I wanted to go would somehow indicate that I in fact wanted to go, and that whoever was responsible for making these decisions would eventually tell me if I was going and if so, with whom.  I know, what was I thinking?

When the day finally arrived, one of the teachers told me I could go with the assistant director of the school.  I assumed, foolishly as it turned out, that this meant that someone had actually spoken to her and arranged for me to go with her.  So, I waited in the office as people, including the assistant director, came in and out.  At a certain point, it seemed like people were starting to leave, and the assistant director had gone out, but I assumed, again foolishly, that she would be back to tell me when it was time to leave. 

After another half hour or so, one of the teachers saw me and asked, “Aren’t you going to Ek’s new school?”  I said that I wanted to go but was waiting for the assistant director, to which she replied that everyone had already left.  She offered to call someone and ask them to turn around and come back, but I told her not to go to the trouble.  I then called Ek, who was already at her new school, explained the mix-up, and asked her how to get to her school.

It was not complicated but did involve an hour ride in a song taew (basically a covered pick-up truck with two rows of seats in the back) and then another 2.5 hours in a van.  So, I arrived at Ek’s new school just as the send off meeting was concluding, still not really sure if I was supposed to be there or not.  It could have just been my uncertainty about this, but it sure seemed like the awkwardness when I entered the meeting room was palpable.  I kind of hate the expression “on the same page,” but in this case it, or perhaps even better, it’s cousin, “in the same book” certainly applies.