Fire Safety

When you visit the UK it becomes apparent almost immediately that there is great concern about fire safety.  Its not that surprising considering the age of the majority of buildings and the large fires that have hit their cities in the past.  Electrical maintenance vans are a common site -- maybe the different electricity here is part of the problem.  School fire alarms are tested often, even weekly at one of my university buildings.  To me, this is a bit much.

Derek and I live in student accommodation, and so of course the university's safety concerns are filtered through accommodation services to us.  Our building isn't "purpose-built" for accommodation -- it's an old (likely 19th century) tenement building with private businesses on the ground floor and university owned flats on the first, second and third.  We're close to campus, but not on it, and so while we must call university security if there's ever a problem, there isn't anyone on site to help.

Fire safety stickers, signs and posters are all over businesses, school building and our place. We have a fire blanket in the kitchen and an extinguisher in the closet.  Our kitchen door and living room door are fire doors that we are required to keep closed at all times.  It is so annoying when I want to have a conversation with the cook (ie Derek) or shout something from the bedroom to the living room.  Plus they slam shut, annoying the neighbours below.  But we've been sent pointed emails warning us about facing possible charges if we prop them open at any time, and we can't risk jeopardizing our visas!

The good thing is that we all pay close attention to this issue and feel quite safe.  But I think the university might want to pay attention to our deadly stairwell if they are truly concerned about fire safety.  

The steep, uneven steps of our narrow spiral staircase (which had inadequate lighting until I complained twice to accommodation services) would not provide a safe exit in smokey conditions in my opinion.  

Anyway, the inspiration for this post was the latest email telling me about the quarterly fire alarm testing that'll be happening on Wednesday.  You might think this is nothing particularly interesting, but what's notable is that they just did a round of testing last Wednesday, going into several flats and setting off the alarms throughout the building (quite annoying since I was marking essays at the time).  I've been sent a schedule from the university justifying these intrusions by reminding us that these tests must be done four times a year, but they're actually going to be done weekly until the end of January.  With only 6 flats to test and several being entered per week, I don't know what to think.  

Edinburger Bureaucracy

Those of you who I've chatted with on Skype over the last few months might have heard my story of working for the university without pay, but as the audience for my blog is infinitely wider, it also gives me a larger chance to rant.  I'm half kidding.  To be honest, there's now a light at the end of the tunnel, which is why I finally feel okay sharing this experience.

Last year I either spent my days in court (as a clerk, not a criminal) or applying for every award I could find.  Attending a university as an international student is a very expensive undertaking, with fees being up to three times that of home students.  And I was successful, winning a Graduate Teaching Assistantship and, at the last minute, a College Studentship.  The studentship meant a significant part of my costs would be covered by the university, but the opportunity to teach is too great an opportunity to pass up.

I began leading seminars on British History One, a first-year survey course covering four centuries, in September.  I teach 3 seminars per week, ten students per seminar.  Over the year there's 22 seminars to plan, prepare and lead, 4 2000 word essays to mark per student, and a final exam to mark.  Its a significant time commitment.  And I love it.  Plus its a great chance to brush up on my British political history.

The problem lies in the award itself.  This is the first year the School offered teaching placements as an award.  Instead of being an employee, we're award winners and are therefore paid a set amount monthly, rather than hourly at a set wage.  I don't have to pay tax or get a National Insurance Number.  But I also wasn't getting paid.

In September I filled out standard tax forms for Human Resources.  These included sections on personal information, bank account information, and proof of my address and the UK visa terms in my passport.  This was submitted to the first secretary responsible for postgrad students.  In October I was given a Disclosure form to access police records from the second secretary, which is standard practice for anyone working with young or old populations and if yours doesn't pass you can't work and certainly can't get paid.  Of course, by this time I had been working for 4 weeks.  It took 6 weeks for the results to come through and be submitted to the university.

In mid-October I was given a timesheet to fill out on a monthly basis.  Having missed September's deadline by weeks, I've since submitted it the last week of every month to the third secretary, this one being for undergrad courses like the one I tutor for.  By the beginning of November I contacted her to find out more information about my award, and she referred me back to the second one who said she'd email me the necessary form that night (a Monday).  On Wednesday I went to her office and asked her for the form -- she was "too busy" but said she'd email it me it the next day.  On Friday I emailed her again and cc'd my supervisor in the hopes that she'd take my request seriously.  It worked.  She sent me a form that afternoon.

Unfortunately this form did not seem to apply.  It was for a one-time payment to compensate a worker for ad hoc work.  This was far more than disappointing.  Ignoring it and her "help," I began speaking with other students in the hopes of getting some actual information.  Another Canadian first year PhD student who'd won the same award and had filled out the same forms for the first secretary let me know that she'd been getting paid since October.  I was shocked and worried.

I checked in with the first secretary, who assured me that the problem was that HR doesn't accept anything after the 5th of the month.  Since my disclosure hadn't come through until the 15th of November or so, I wouldn't get paid until the end of the month.  I felt better.  

On Tuesday I noticed an email in my Hotmail account's Junk folder.  Secretary two had sent out the same odd ad hoc work form to me again, as well as to the other award recipients, but for some reason used our old informal email addresses rather than our official university ones.  I sent back questions about the information she wanted, as it was the same as on the forms for secretary one and the timesheets regularly submitted to secretary three.  What I got in response was a notification that she had gone on holiday until the deadline of the forms, so I filled them out.

Today a mysterious amount of money was deposited into my bank account that was similar to the monthly amount my peer had received.  I was so relieved.  But questions still remain.  When will I be paid for the other two months I've worked?  Why did I have to fill out the weird ad hoc form, which hasn't been processed and yet I've started getting paid?  And what is the full amount of the award?  No one has ever been able to answer that for me.  Having three secretaries be responsible for one award which no one person understands seems like an obvious mistake for the school and a stressful one for its students.

National Libraries: What's their problem?

Last week I headed off to London for the first time in nine years.  The intended purpose was to learn all about the British Library at their postgraduate research student training day.  It did turn out to be a good learning experience, and it just helps to have seen the place.  I hate going to new places and not being sure where exactly to go, or what the rules are.   

It doesn't help that national libraries aren't the most friendly places, which I've learned from trying to get a reader's ticket at the National Library of Scotland down the street.  The first time I went there I followed the front desk girl's directions and walked down the hall and through the open door on the left into a large office labelled "Registration" where I was promptly told that they weren't open yet (It was 2 minutes to 10am).  Not only was I escorted out the door, but I was shown where the barricading rope should have been.  When they did officially open 2 minutes later, I was turned away because I didn't have any proof of address, which of course I didn't seeing as I was a new international grad student...

I guess the reason these libraries are so petty is that they are trying to preserve some priceless, irreplaceably resources for future generations.  They go out of their way to achieve this: no pens or ink, no bags, jackets or laptop cases, and no loans.  The books never leave the library.  We even had our bags searched on our way in!  I think the funniest thing is that they always stress how they're available to everyone.  Everyone who's willing to go through a ton of hoops, anyway.

To be honest its not all that bad.  The reading rooms are beautiful, and they do give you access to stuff you can't find anywhere else!  Back to London, when I was heading into the British Library's conference centre after lunch the man I was walking up the stairs with and I got to talking.  As he worked for the library, he was interested in how I was finding the day and what I study.  It turns out that he had remembered my topic from the long list of 130 students and our subject areas.  That was neat.  But the best part was when he had to run to lead the next workshop, he gave me his business card to contact him and it turns out he's the head of their newspaper collections!  We're talking unparalleled collections.  What an amazing contact to accidentally make.