Greece

Vanessa joins us as a contributor this month, to reminisce about some idyllic time she spent teaching English, in a small coastal village in Greece.

It wasn’t snowing in Austria. As I was there to work the ski season, that was proving a handicap. I decided it would be much nicer in Greece and headed south through Italy across to Athens and then south again to a tiny village in the Peloponnese. There were really only 2 options for work in the village – the local bar, or the English school. It was a traditional village and to work in the bar would have meant low wages and lower respect from the locals. It was a no-brainer, really.

Fortunately, word travels fast in a small village. The owner of the English school actually came to me, delighted that a native English-speaking teacher was in the village. We agreed that I’d teach classes 3 afternoons per week, which was perfect for me. It meant that I had plenty of time for myself, and was making plenty of money to live. We rented a whitewashed cottage straight from a postcard, complete with blue window frames, thick stone walls and a trailing grapevine. I bought a scooter to get around, and settled in to life in a Greek village.

Teaching was fun. Most of the kids in the village came to English classes – it was the only extra curricular activity in the village. Even their state school was a bus ride away in another village. Consequently, some of them loved class and some would have rather been at the beach.

The school had two classrooms, although we normally only used one at a time. The classrooms were well setup with blackboard, desks, a few charts, and some reference books. The owner had passed some high level exams in English, so I had to assume she did speak English – but never to me. She taught a few classes herself but was happy to leave the majority to me. Until I arrived, the kids were used to being taught in Greek, with some English words thrown in as part of the lesson. It was quite a change for them to be taught by someone who spoke no Greek whatsoever. I tried to keep it that way, although the first Greek words I learnt were “sit down and SHUT UP”.

Although I had textbooks to work from I found that it was easy to develop my own lessons based on the concepts in the textbooks. The textbooks didn’t always relate to life as they knew it. Most of the kids had never left the villagr. At best, they had been to Athens. They watched a lot of TV, but primarily Greek soap operas, and so their knowledge of the outside world was fairly limited. Se we’d discuss the Greek basketball team, the local football team, the best way to catch an octopus, and whether it was worthwhile for girls to go to university, rather than world politics. It seemed that some English words were more easily learnt than others and it was rare to walk down the street without being followed by a chorus of childish voices calling “hello – how are you – I am fine" followed inevitably by "I looooove you”

Teaching meant that I was accepted as a part of village life, rather than being ostracised as a western woman of questionable morals. Like most of the other houses in the village, mine had no oven. Instead I’d prepare my meal and take it to the bakery, leaving instructions on how long to cook it. I’d see the women of the village there, and we’d discuss the price of tomatoes – or whether I’d guess the wrong amount of time for my dinner to cook and be presented with a cremated moussaka once again. As the teacher, if I was out walking in the evening I’d often be invited to join big family groups dining on huge plates of octopus, whole lambs cooked on an outdoor rotisserie, grilled fish, and fantastic tomato and feta salads.

Summer days were usually spent on or close to the beach – the weather was really hot, and the coast was full of perfect deserted coves within walking distance of my house. It was quite normal to pass older couples riding their donkey into town, or girls leading goats on a piece of string, as I walked down the hill to the beach. Often I’d walk out past the harbour to the white church on the headland, take a picnic lunch and read my book above the perfect blue sea. Other days I’d visit a new friend who had retired from his days as a wealthy globetrotting bohemian, and now lived in picturesque squalor below the cave known locally as Odysseus’ cave. For a few months each year, gypsies camped there in huge yurt-like tents; speaking a totally foreign language and enraging the locals by taking anything they liked without paying. They’d accepted my friend Alessandros, and so accepted me too. He didn’t understand how they could be so friendly with him but still raid his house and take his cameras as they moved on at the end of summer.

Somehow though, no day was complete without at least a couple of hours sitting in one of the tiny outdoor cafes, drinking frappe coffee and eating sweet baklava pastries. There was time for everything – time to write, time to read, time to explore new places and live a new culture, and still time to prepare lessons and to teach. It was one of the happiest times of my lift – and it could never have happened if the teaching job had not given me an entrée into that magic world.

South America

Joyce’s story of her recent adventures in South America continues. The final chapter is next month:

It’s not too often that I share my men stories but I will today. I met a really nice guy in the Amazon. He is cute, funny, and has lots of energy. He is ADD like me. We took nice walks and talked a lot. He really kept me laughing. So like all men there are some drawbacks. His English is very limited as he was born and raised in Peru. He does not work and does not qualify for a green card. There is also a significant age difference. Actually quite a difference, he is 8 months old. He has 4 legs, a huge smile and lots of hair which makes me so jealous. Yes my new friend is Wallie, a spider monkey that has attached himself to me. He is an orphan so I thought about adoption but don´t know how Tashie would react to sharing a bed with a monkey. Also my parents already have a cat for a 5th grandchild so, I don´t know what they would do when I sent them a picture of number 6. So I guess I will treasure the memories and move on as my jungle time is over and I now go the jungle of Lima.

Loved my time in the jungle. Going down the river listening and looking for birds, walking at night and seeing spiders, frogs, terantulas, owls, bats, and more. Eating the fruits of the banana, mango, pineapple, and lime tree. Love that passion fruit juice and the watermelon is so sweet and juicy. Went out at night to see the Caymens which are alligators. These drivers don´t even need lights on their boats. It was pitch dark. I had my own cottage so I thought until the cockroaches came out to greet me. At that moment I took my dentists advice and decided it was not necessary to brush your teeth before bed. A matter a fact it wasn´t necessary to do anything in the bathroom at that point except leave! I immediately went to bed and tucked myself in under my mosquito net and held my flashlight all night. I did a very thorough bedcheck. Of course I shook and checked everything from that point on. Who knows what I am bringing home.
The sounds and the smells and the people of the rainforest are truly wonderful. It is an amazing and relaxing place. When the rain comes in you just listen and feel the power of the jungle. I got up this morning at 5 to go look for monkeys and birds. Unfortunately I don´t have superman eyes like our guides. It is amazing how they can spot things in the trees. I found Wallie instead and hung out. He definitely hangs out.

Now I am in Lima and will spend my last day here. Going on a city tour and just hanging out and repacking and repacking and repacking. I am proud to say I still have all my sunglasses but not my favorite travel shirt. Never did find my camera either.

Time to go and catch a bite to eat. Peruvian Chinese is on the menu tonight. I think that may mean catfish with chow mein noodles in mango sauce or something. Let you know in the next letter. More to come soon…

Joyce

Does this make you to want to be a TESOL teacher and travel to out of the way places, as well as contribute to societies where ability with English means a better living standard? And have fun! Yes? Then get qualified soon.

Foshan, China

Max recently joined the staff of Lingdong School and is having a ball! He sent us this short report.

To English Explorer staff and students,

Dear Harry and Alan,

I have embarked on a wonderful adventure. The people in Foshan are very friendly and in general treat me like a celebrity.

I have been given three nicknames already, the president, the diplomat and the C.E.O. The students here are exceptionally eager to learn, although 15-16 y.o. are reluctant to speak, it can be like pulling teeth.

Eating here is a huge learning curve. Am practising eating with chopsticks on peanuts. It is literally cheaper to eat out, than cook for myself, (I'm in heaven!). Have eaten frog/toad, large intestine of beef or pork, and several other things my hosts seemed unwilling to divulge (very tasty) and I have developed a real liking for Chinese dumplings.

And finally a piece of advice for any students considering the E.S.L. experience, do it, do it now!

Regards Max.

Lingdong has openings for several teachers to commence in February 2007. They pay well, have great facilities and more to the point, their Australian and American staff speak highly of them. Are you interested in applying? Then get qualified soon.