The Wall (Street) Journal

Profuse apologies dear readers. The last two weeks have proved so diverting that I have found myself quite unable to sit down and write about it. The solution, I think, is to entertain you with two rather shorter posts over the course of the coming week. First however, further apologies for the ridiculous tone of this paragraph. We're watching Pride and Prej as I write.
I spent the best part of last week on the hunt for a curtain. Not any old curtain either. Specifically a curtain that, when drawn back by the principal, could play the best supporting role in the grand unveiling of the Wall Journal.
The Wall Journal is, in reality, a notice board soon to be filled with nice pieces of English work contributed by our pupils. But in the world of Ihavandhoo School it is an event. Events require planning and planning presents numerous opportunities for miscommunication and not a small amount of bureaucracy. Meetings must be held, tasks allocated (and promptly forgotten) and you must not forget to issue a circular. Everybody likes a good circular.
At times, our fantastically democratic school manages to make English local government look efficient, and that’s saying something. If you can successfully negotiate the red tape, and your event doesn’t fall victim to budget cuts, sickness or postponement, you’re doing pretty well.
Having duly secured an appropriate notice board, the hunt for the curtain commenced. The principal assured me that said curtain was in existence and a member of the support staff had been instructed to rig it up. So you will understand my dismay at finding my board still naked and without curtain upon my return several hours later. Fortunately, the principal reappeared at the crucial moment and a flurry of activity ensued: someone was dispatched to obtain cloth; a seamstress was prevailed upon to hem the cloth; and the maintenance man was there late into the night, hanging the curtain with fishing line.
Mercifully, the grand opening went down a storm. There was applause and even a short speech. The Wall Street Journal it ain’t but I think our little notice board has some life in it yet.