Dinosaur relic of a bygone age

The year was 2000. I'd transferred from my rundown community run after hours Greek language school - which I once described in a short essay as looking as if it'd been hit by NATO, much to the amusement of my classmates and the Greek consulate dude who was present, whom I reckon my teacher back then was in love with, but that's another story - to Omiros College's Altona North branch, which was, ironically located at my high school's year 7-10 campus, which I'd departed the year before. Both re-locations to do with VCE and what not.

The people there were friendly enough, and they tried occasionally to include me in their social/recess groups, but it was never going to work out. I was a clichéd angry misfit and they were clichéd happy wogs. They would discuss nightclubs and bars (even with the teacher, whom they would see out on weekends) and I would read Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. It was never antagonistic at least, for the most part.

I was searching through my archives, clearing stuff out that I'd had in my drawers in some cases for probably 15 years. I've lost a couple of my school reports, notably my 2nd semester year 11 one where things started coming together for me somewhat. Amongst the rediscovered files was the extract below from my year 11 exam. I got 69/75, and was told not to rush so much. My handwriting was so much better than it is now. I wonder if they're still using South as a reference point in Greek schools. I would wager that they don't. Despite my solid marks, I did not pursue Greek at university level. Perhaps things would have been different for me if I had.