The helpful landlord
I've never heard of it before. It doesn't ever happen, at least not to me. A helpful landlord. Almost like an oxymoron, the words do not go together. They do in Carlos' case.
In my recent experience, that of the past 6 years, landlords tend to be after money, anything to get their greasy hands on the deposits of their renters. In my case I've never had a full deposit back, even when the equipment broke in the house and it was blamed on the inhabitants (despite pre war microwaves).
In Portugal you pay for 3 months, that's the deposit. In my case I paid nothing. In fact I'm 4 weeks in and I still haven't paid anything. Further to this the rent is cheap. About 100 euros cheaper than other peoples' rent. What else? Free cable tv, free internet, no bills, double bed, massive room, s'pretty good deal by my standards.
I thought it bizarre that he'd pick me up from the hotel, with all my stuff and drive me to the house. That was day one, the first exhibit of his kindness. Then he toured me round the area, showing me bus routes to work and town. It's understandable that he was kind then, I was still a prospective money maker. Though read on dear reader,..
Since then we have had an insect problem, the shower had an issue and our grill was playing up, that was mid week. He came and stayed for 7 hours on Saturday, without me really noticing, and fixed everything. The house isn't perfect, but he fixes things when they need fixing.
This week I wanted to buy a punchbag, I did, but couldn't manage it on public transport.
Voila!Carlos to the rescue...
Some mention that the reason for his kindness has different routes. Who would do this sort of thing? They say he's lonely, has no friends, no wife, nothing. I don't know about that. In fact I don't care too much. So far he's been cool with me, and when my job isn't cracking up to be all that it said on the tin a helpful landlord, that will go out of his way for all of us, goes a long way.
Thursday, 30 October 2008
Sunday, 26 October 2008
The ups and downs of living in ajuda
The ups and downs of living in ajuda
Meaning help or aid* in Portuguese, my neighborhood invokes love and pain in equal measure. With just as many hills as the rest of Lisbon I couldn't think of a better title than the one given.
The positives
Living here I am surrounded by Portuguese people that generally don't speak much English, something hard to find in Lisbon (and something I see as a positive). Living next to a 90 year old is something many would find annoying, but she speaks Portuguese and I find it cool to chat with her, despite about only 20% communiction, the rest goes over my head and heads into Belem.
The area has fantastic views, fresh air, no traffic, very little noise and I subsequently feel relaxed here, when I'm not stressing about work.
The area benefits from tram and bus and is calm and tranquil. It's amazing in the sun and at night. Added bonuses include (and if you frequent my blog often you may have seen the friendly chaps) local lizards that inhabit the nearby pavement walls. Saying hello to them every afternoon is not something to be sniffed at, it's really nice.And no, I'm not a travel agent.
The Portuguese banter on the local trams is also nice. Note to self, stop using the n word, nice. Must use other adjectives, says the English teacher. Anywho, it's good being here.
The downsides
After 10pm it can be quite annoying getting back to Ajuda. Getting lost was almost part of my daily routine in the first few weeks. Wrong bus. Right bus, wrong direction. Right bus, getting off at the wrong stop. Darkness plaguing the international bum trying hard to decipher which roundabout to get off at. That's another downer, fine in the day, but the tens of hundreds of roundabouts near Ajuda do make it hard to spot my stop at night. So yeh, it's been tailored down from a hefty 2 hour commute, post 10pm, to about an hour. Just about manageable.
Fidning shops aint easy, and there isn't as much choice as if I lived in the centre,...
THE CONCLUSION
Despite the downsides,... the sunsets, local people and lizards make it all worthwhile!!.....
Wednesday, 22 October 2008
update on the blood thirsty elementary students
I was told I may or may not be carrying on with this group. After them changing their minds, and enjoying the last lesson it is all up in the air. Why did I have to get the bi-polar group?
So my Monday and Friday nights are on the line, I may possibly get them back. If so, I won't see it as a personal failure as I was going by the book. I'll just hook up with some bboys, which is what I'm here to do!
So my Monday and Friday nights are on the line, I may possibly get them back. If so, I won't see it as a personal failure as I was going by the book. I'll just hook up with some bboys, which is what I'm here to do!
Gun wielding Elementary students, and I'm in the firing line (pun intended)
Gun wielding Elementary students, and I'm in the firing line (pun intended)
When I started I was told that I'd be teaching an Elementary group, which to the non TEFL world means beginner, but not an absolute beginner(someone who can string together a sentence, just about), I wasn't overjoyed, but I wasn't that bothered either.
On the awful training we were subjected to we were told many contradictory things, and as I've not had an ample amount of experience with this level I was most dreading it. To make matters that bit worse, the lessons would be all adults (more needy, impatient etc) and on Mondays 8-10pm and Fridays 8-10pm, blocking me training with the top bboy crew (who invited me),..fun fun fun.
The first class, according to the syllabus, I was told to go back to square one. In fact, the first few lessons are all revision, which I didn't realise wouldn't go down too well. They knew most of the material I'd prepared, and was told that what I'd prepared might last 2 classes, in fact it didn't even last one class! Also, something I didn't know is half the class was in a previous course so if I didn't win them over in the first few lessons,.... The method I was told to use was the direct method. Literally repeating and asking questions, for 50 mins. For example is this a red pen, Yes. Is this(choose a blue one) a red pen? Nooooo, it ISN't a red pen, it is a blue one. I guess you can imagine the fun. They were turning on me, without me realising,...
Another issue was prickly. I was told that the learners were to be spoken at normal speed. without changing tone, accent or anything. So, mid 4th lesson, I'm told, by the students, that they don't like my accent as it's 'not like the people on the cds'. Not what a teacher wants to hear.
Before my class today my boss had a word with me about these students and their complaints. Not only this, but went into my lesson, told me to leave and chatted with them about all the problems, possibly going into detail about how my looks weren't up to scratch 'why can't you employ Jonny depp to teach us' and other such useful comments. So, 20 mins into the class I'm ushered in with the motivational comments by the head of the school of
> They really don't like you, they want a change of teacher.. you'd better make it a fantastic lesson',
with those kind of words its highly surprising that my boss didn't win American football coach prep talker of the year! Her level of tact is on a par with John wayne's in all the old westerns. Well, I was told she wasn't a 'people person' (code for something else, methinks)
I finally enter the room like someone has just slapped me with a wet fish. The students, undeterred by my presence, wave a hand, signaling that my public humiliation is to carry on, full force. They eagerly continue, in their native tongue. For a brief moment I'm thinking, trying to be positive, hey I'm being paid, i've done nothing for the past 25 mins and they are still paying me.
I overhear, that one student doesn't understand when i speak, of 4 mins of their talking this is the only Portuguese I understand. A teacher isn't a person in this context, just a conduit for the learning/business process. So I'm sitting there, waiting, having followed the course and method by the book, by the f-ing book. My reward. Forget everything I was told on the orientation now it's time to do it my way.
So the lesson starts. This is it. A memory game. They like it. Though I am still subjected to a 10 min lecture by my boss on XYZ that translates to ' They are the customers' Break over, and no food or drink. BANG, back on stage. Next bit.
Inquiring about price, using a mill drill, basically they mill around asking questions. Doesn't sound fun, but the characters in the room come out of their metaphorical closets and produce acting genious worthy of a TEFL oscar. Building on the dialogue of
A How much is it?
B It costs XYZ amount
A Great, I'll buy it/ That's a bit expensive
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
A (Bright spark TEFL oscar winning savour student insert) Can you lower the price?
This enivitably livens the class up a bit.
Last 20 mins are saved for a lovely neat introduction to the present continuous, What are you wearing, tying in neatly with the past theatrical performance we all took part in (yes, moi aussi).
Result- the once gun wielding students suddenly love me. They all struggle to say that it was the best lesson. God bless Reward (textbook/photocopiable gold for tefl teachers) making life in the tefl minefield easier, at least until the present activity ends,.... life on a knife edge, easy slip and get cut,.....well some of my friends do call me cutz!
When I started I was told that I'd be teaching an Elementary group, which to the non TEFL world means beginner, but not an absolute beginner(someone who can string together a sentence, just about), I wasn't overjoyed, but I wasn't that bothered either.
On the awful training we were subjected to we were told many contradictory things, and as I've not had an ample amount of experience with this level I was most dreading it. To make matters that bit worse, the lessons would be all adults (more needy, impatient etc) and on Mondays 8-10pm and Fridays 8-10pm, blocking me training with the top bboy crew (who invited me),..fun fun fun.
The first class, according to the syllabus, I was told to go back to square one. In fact, the first few lessons are all revision, which I didn't realise wouldn't go down too well. They knew most of the material I'd prepared, and was told that what I'd prepared might last 2 classes, in fact it didn't even last one class! Also, something I didn't know is half the class was in a previous course so if I didn't win them over in the first few lessons,.... The method I was told to use was the direct method. Literally repeating and asking questions, for 50 mins. For example is this a red pen, Yes. Is this(choose a blue one) a red pen? Nooooo, it ISN't a red pen, it is a blue one. I guess you can imagine the fun. They were turning on me, without me realising,...
Another issue was prickly. I was told that the learners were to be spoken at normal speed. without changing tone, accent or anything. So, mid 4th lesson, I'm told, by the students, that they don't like my accent as it's 'not like the people on the cds'. Not what a teacher wants to hear.
Before my class today my boss had a word with me about these students and their complaints. Not only this, but went into my lesson, told me to leave and chatted with them about all the problems, possibly going into detail about how my looks weren't up to scratch 'why can't you employ Jonny depp to teach us' and other such useful comments. So, 20 mins into the class I'm ushered in with the motivational comments by the head of the school of
> They really don't like you, they want a change of teacher.. you'd better make it a fantastic lesson',
with those kind of words its highly surprising that my boss didn't win American football coach prep talker of the year! Her level of tact is on a par with John wayne's in all the old westerns. Well, I was told she wasn't a 'people person' (code for something else, methinks)
I finally enter the room like someone has just slapped me with a wet fish. The students, undeterred by my presence, wave a hand, signaling that my public humiliation is to carry on, full force. They eagerly continue, in their native tongue. For a brief moment I'm thinking, trying to be positive, hey I'm being paid, i've done nothing for the past 25 mins and they are still paying me.
I overhear, that one student doesn't understand when i speak, of 4 mins of their talking this is the only Portuguese I understand. A teacher isn't a person in this context, just a conduit for the learning/business process. So I'm sitting there, waiting, having followed the course and method by the book, by the f-ing book. My reward. Forget everything I was told on the orientation now it's time to do it my way.
So the lesson starts. This is it. A memory game. They like it. Though I am still subjected to a 10 min lecture by my boss on XYZ that translates to ' They are the customers' Break over, and no food or drink. BANG, back on stage. Next bit.
Inquiring about price, using a mill drill, basically they mill around asking questions. Doesn't sound fun, but the characters in the room come out of their metaphorical closets and produce acting genious worthy of a TEFL oscar. Building on the dialogue of
A How much is it?
B It costs XYZ amount
A Great, I'll buy it/ That's a bit expensive
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
A (Bright spark TEFL oscar winning savour student insert) Can you lower the price?
This enivitably livens the class up a bit.
Last 20 mins are saved for a lovely neat introduction to the present continuous, What are you wearing, tying in neatly with the past theatrical performance we all took part in (yes, moi aussi).
Result- the once gun wielding students suddenly love me. They all struggle to say that it was the best lesson. God bless Reward (textbook/photocopiable gold for tefl teachers) making life in the tefl minefield easier, at least until the present activity ends,.... life on a knife edge, easy slip and get cut,.....well some of my friends do call me cutz!
Saturday, 18 October 2008
Local lizards- friendly wildlife on my afternoon commute
Walking to my bus stop everyday I hear rustling accompanied by fast feet, the spectacle of my local lizard friends. Not much to be said about them except they are damn cool.
Wednesday, 15 October 2008
Poor, for now at least
Poor, for now at least
I've made a few mistakes since getting here. Miscalculations, to be precise.
The situation is this. I knew I wouldn't get paid for a while, yet I choose not to work in the UK, picking the easier way of loafing at home before my brother's wedding, and subsequent responsibility of being the best man. I somehow rationalised it was a good idea not to work, as is fits in with my general disposition for real 'work'.
We got given a meal allowance a few days after we got here, which, in keeping company with other international bums, got wasted away within roughly 7 days (200 euros- you do the numbers!) Did mention about the bar that stayed open late?
Since then I've been chipping away at the last of the great British currency I have left in my UK bank account. Family bridging loans will keep me going for a short while,...
So,........... I get paid from my international bumming job at the end of October. Another few weeks to hang on in there.....
You may be thinking what the point of this entry is, besides using up some of my 'precious' time. Well, there is a point, I just go the looong way round, call me the Ewan Mcgregor of blogging. And a poor comedian... I should stick to international bumming!*
*sincerly hopes his employer or anyone connected isn't offended by the tefling= international bumming equation*
The whole point of this entry
So,.... back to the bumming *aka tefling. We were given a few lesson plans, to kick start us off, and in keeping with our general (when I talk of we, I'm talking about the other bums aka 'teachers' or as they insist on calling us here, 'professors of English'- nice.) titles of being bums, we are given everything on plate, albeit an overused, synthetic plate, a bit like given the students recycled food, expecting them to like it. Anyway, gets us more time in the sun,.....
On the serious side, if there ever was one, in one of these gems of a lesson plan it directs the Professor (who can be accused of mis-interpreting a language for my own gain? Me? Never....) to introduce the topic of the family. I do, dutifully. Then, students talk about the changes in the family they have seen over the past generation, very useful when talking to 14 year olds, as I'm sure you can imagine.... anyway, I run with it.... Then I'm told to get back in the damn class.
The students, almost unanimously talk about the seriousness of the economy. I must have been out of the classroom a LONG time. There is a very tenuous link. They suggest that the economy has declined (over the last 25 years? HMM note to self- research country before encountering the natives) and this has caused couples to only have one child. This gets me interested,...
I ask in what way has their economy declined. It transpires that the students compare themselves to their Spanish, French and German counterparts, who earn more than them. They emphasize this. Somewhat surprised I ask them what the average wage is, of the average worker. They tell me minimum wage is roughly E400. Funking Bell! That's why, they tell me, some Portuguese are moving abroad, to earn more money. I tell them that I love their country for many reasons, to counterbalance their negativity. I'm countered with the undeniable truth that they've lived here for 14/15/16 years and I've been here 2 weeks. Good point.
Over the past few weeks I've walked around the shops a bit and noticed products are noticeably cheaper here, with my purchasing power being much greater than the UK. I'll be earning roughly 3 times their minimum wage. So, despite being poor now, in relation to the minimum wage workers my wage is more like a dream.
This is reasonably common in the Tefl world. However, it doesn't stop me from feeling pretty bad about the whole thing. Especially when I know many of the students would learn more if they quit the school and just bought a few grammar books and spent 2 weeks in the UK, maybe hiring a tutor to fine tune everything. Job done. Inevitably, that's not what they want to do. Some students stay at the school 6,7 or sometimes as long as 10 years, with a vague, plodding along kind of improvement.
The conclusion?
I'm paid well, but there's more responsibility than I thought there would be. I came here for the lifestyle, not the money. If I wanted money I'd become a liar. Lawyer, lawyer, sorry. I'm not ready to give up on life, so we'll see how this Lisbon thing goes..... that said the sunny always smiles here, so I'll try my best to, whether I feel poor or rich,............
I've made a few mistakes since getting here. Miscalculations, to be precise.
The situation is this. I knew I wouldn't get paid for a while, yet I choose not to work in the UK, picking the easier way of loafing at home before my brother's wedding, and subsequent responsibility of being the best man. I somehow rationalised it was a good idea not to work, as is fits in with my general disposition for real 'work'.
We got given a meal allowance a few days after we got here, which, in keeping company with other international bums, got wasted away within roughly 7 days (200 euros- you do the numbers!) Did mention about the bar that stayed open late?
Since then I've been chipping away at the last of the great British currency I have left in my UK bank account. Family bridging loans will keep me going for a short while,...
So,........... I get paid from my international bumming job at the end of October. Another few weeks to hang on in there.....
You may be thinking what the point of this entry is, besides using up some of my 'precious' time. Well, there is a point, I just go the looong way round, call me the Ewan Mcgregor of blogging. And a poor comedian... I should stick to international bumming!*
*sincerly hopes his employer or anyone connected isn't offended by the tefling= international bumming equation*
The whole point of this entry
So,.... back to the bumming *aka tefling. We were given a few lesson plans, to kick start us off, and in keeping with our general (when I talk of we, I'm talking about the other bums aka 'teachers' or as they insist on calling us here, 'professors of English'- nice.) titles of being bums, we are given everything on plate, albeit an overused, synthetic plate, a bit like given the students recycled food, expecting them to like it. Anyway, gets us more time in the sun,.....
On the serious side, if there ever was one, in one of these gems of a lesson plan it directs the Professor (who can be accused of mis-interpreting a language for my own gain? Me? Never....) to introduce the topic of the family. I do, dutifully. Then, students talk about the changes in the family they have seen over the past generation, very useful when talking to 14 year olds, as I'm sure you can imagine.... anyway, I run with it.... Then I'm told to get back in the damn class.
The students, almost unanimously talk about the seriousness of the economy. I must have been out of the classroom a LONG time. There is a very tenuous link. They suggest that the economy has declined (over the last 25 years? HMM note to self- research country before encountering the natives) and this has caused couples to only have one child. This gets me interested,...
I ask in what way has their economy declined. It transpires that the students compare themselves to their Spanish, French and German counterparts, who earn more than them. They emphasize this. Somewhat surprised I ask them what the average wage is, of the average worker. They tell me minimum wage is roughly E400. Funking Bell! That's why, they tell me, some Portuguese are moving abroad, to earn more money. I tell them that I love their country for many reasons, to counterbalance their negativity. I'm countered with the undeniable truth that they've lived here for 14/15/16 years and I've been here 2 weeks. Good point.
Over the past few weeks I've walked around the shops a bit and noticed products are noticeably cheaper here, with my purchasing power being much greater than the UK. I'll be earning roughly 3 times their minimum wage. So, despite being poor now, in relation to the minimum wage workers my wage is more like a dream.
This is reasonably common in the Tefl world. However, it doesn't stop me from feeling pretty bad about the whole thing. Especially when I know many of the students would learn more if they quit the school and just bought a few grammar books and spent 2 weeks in the UK, maybe hiring a tutor to fine tune everything. Job done. Inevitably, that's not what they want to do. Some students stay at the school 6,7 or sometimes as long as 10 years, with a vague, plodding along kind of improvement.
The conclusion?
I'm paid well, but there's more responsibility than I thought there would be. I came here for the lifestyle, not the money. If I wanted money I'd become a liar. Lawyer, lawyer, sorry. I'm not ready to give up on life, so we'll see how this Lisbon thing goes..... that said the sunny always smiles here, so I'll try my best to, whether I feel poor or rich,............
A place where the weather is predictable
A place where the weather is predictable
When I first arrived I packed an umbrella everyday, anticipating the rain as if it would come at any second. Even when the BBC said it would rain, alas, I never did.
How does it stay that way?
When I was staying at the hotel, in central Lisbon, me and G went for a midnight cheeseburger, as you do. When walking up the path G got soaked by something that poked its head out of the ground, a sneaky sprinkler. Hah! So he learnt the hard way how Lisbon remains a lush green...
So, for the first ten days it rained once, while we were sleeping.
I've been since 21st Sept, and its rained properly once. After a few hours though, it was sunny. Normality restored.
I wrote this a few days ago and an update on the weather today it was...
12 midday- 20C
4 in the afternoon- 26C
9 at night- 20C
Midnight- 19C
By the way, the Portuguese call this their winter. Nice.
When I first arrived I packed an umbrella everyday, anticipating the rain as if it would come at any second. Even when the BBC said it would rain, alas, I never did.
How does it stay that way?
When I was staying at the hotel, in central Lisbon, me and G went for a midnight cheeseburger, as you do. When walking up the path G got soaked by something that poked its head out of the ground, a sneaky sprinkler. Hah! So he learnt the hard way how Lisbon remains a lush green...
So, for the first ten days it rained once, while we were sleeping.
I've been since 21st Sept, and its rained properly once. After a few hours though, it was sunny. Normality restored.
I wrote this a few days ago and an update on the weather today it was...
12 midday- 20C
4 in the afternoon- 26C
9 at night- 20C
Midnight- 19C
By the way, the Portuguese call this their winter. Nice.
Friday, 10 October 2008
Finding a flat
Finding a flat
This was probably the hardest thing I've done since getting here. Our school kindly gave us a list of about 15 flats, for 22 people. We were given about 5 hours per week and told good luck (more or less).
Gwilym was the obvious candidate to live with, though it transpired that we wanted different things. He wanted to live near the party centre and didn't care much about being near gyms etc and I preferred to be in tranquil/chilled out settings, near amenities. I was hearing stories from the other teachers that they had to put down massive deposits, some had to pay 3 months rent. Me and G were decided that we both wanted flexibility so decided not to take this option.
By the end of the week we were having no luck. It was the first time I had to use any language skills (or lack of). Negotiating in English is hard enough but in Portuguese it was near impossible. It turned out finding a flat for two boys, preferably with native Portuguese people our age was never going to be easy. With my lack of the local lingo it is akin to trying to find rain in Lisbon- possibly but unlikely.
I'd complied a list of the most attractive flats by location, price and general suitability in terms of a balance of both our requirements. At the same time I'd done one for myself, as I wanted to be prepared, just in case something didn't work out. All the flats weren't available. I called a few on my own list and got a viewing for the next day. Doubts started to creep in when I needed to start teaching at my new school on the Wednesday and still didn't have anywhere to live by the Saturday.
A friend had told me to join easyroomate, or the Portuguese equivalent, easyquarto.pt. A Godsend!I got an elegantly typed email from a man called Carlos re- a room in a shared house with students. I arranged the viewing for the same day as the other one.
The next day I was picked up by Carlos, a talkative Portuguese middle aged landlord. He was talking the whole way there about the bus stops, metro and all the things he felt I needed to know (and to be fair, he was right about 99% of it).
When he showed me the place I was amazed. The room was a double, with its own extra room! It had a double bed, Tv with cable and the net already!! I chatted to the housemates, who seemed fine and I was pretty sure that this was the place. On our way out the sun was setting and it felt like one of the property shows on channel 4- the view was/is amazing.
Carlos drove me another 15 mins to my next location. The next place wasn't too bad, but the housemate was never there and I didn't fancy living alone just yet. So I called Carlos to tell him I'd move in on Tuesday!
Voila!
G found a flat on his own, though unfortunately just heard there's no running water,.. updates will follow!
Initial impressions- the course and standing up for oneself
Initial impressions- the course and standing up for oneself
Stepping off the plane I had mixed feelings. It was hot in the UK, and the weather said it'd be raining when I got off the plane. I'd been chatting bad Portuguese with the lady next to me, which had been nice, but now I was here and couldn't take my eye off outside. It was sunny!!!!! Not only was it sunny, it was very hot,so hot I felt pretty stupid in my hottest, thickest trousers,... and it was nearly 5pm. There was a sign saying it was 26 degrees.
I'd asked to get a list of the teachers' emails to establish initial contact before our orientation started and this had blossomed into an email list. Since then, we'd all met up on the airport, somewhat nervously and chatted on the plane.
After being greeted off the plane we were driven to the hotel, paired off with people we were to share a room with and told to be ready to meet for dinner in 50 mins. I was paired with the first teacher I'd met at the airport, a guy called Gwylym. I got on with him well and was happy to be in a room, from the get go, with someone I liked- we weren't told that we had to share rooms...
Dinner was a lavish three course meal, with all the teachers spread along a long table down the middle of the restaurant. I had soup, salmon and fruit salad. Three hours of eating later I was getting seriously antsy, I wanted to walk about, explore, but had to wait.
Back at the hotel we went to the nearby bar. The bar looks at bit odd, more like a cafe, though it had drinkers there till past midnight and over the next 10 days we got special treatment and were frequently allowed to stay till past 1am. With warm evenings, especially the last 2 weeks in Sept (with evening temp of over 25!) most of the time we sat outside until midnight then inside until we were turfed out.
The bar sessions were great as the first 10 days were anxious for everyone. The orientation was more fear mongering, lecturing us, sometimes by teachers with less experience than their audience. These sessions were dull with a capital DUH. The teachers who were delivering the 'sessions' are the heads of the various schools, some were cocky, some were rude, some insulted us(one riduculed me in front of everyone- I fell silent and she profusely apologised- probably to fill the silence), some were boring, some were all of the above.
To put it into perspective that we were all homeless, staying in an expensive hotel and had to find housing for the next 9 months. We were also new to the city, and to top it off didn't know anyone, anything, or any Portuguese. The sun was shining all through the sessions, making them that more painful. Something had to be done. Oddly, at a few key moments in my life, there are times when I feel very agitated by a what I, and often others, feel to be unjust, unfair, annoying and unnecessary. Sometimes it's only be that's bold though (self righteousness is something I'm definitively not short of!)
Last time I remember this happening was when I went to New York, to work on camp America and there was an overgrown bully aged 22, throwing (literally) his weight around.. His age matched his appearance which equaled his attitude to life- he didn't care about his appearance (ugliest dude ever) like he didn't care for anyone, or anything. He routinely insulted peers, kids and even superiors- amazingly often to their face, to little reaction. Being in New York was shocking to a 19 year old, but this guy was something else.
Oddly, he never insulted me, I'm still not sure why(he was three times me size in both directions). Anyway, I tested the ground and for about three days, I let him do it to others. Then he insulted my room mate, who'd just come out of the army, where he'd shot down enemy war planes. No one had ever challenged the bully. He'd been at the top of this very small tree for a while. He'd never even been challenged. I have never wanted to kill anyone more than this guy, and I'm not a violent person. Nir, my Israeli friend, was the calmest, sweetest, friendliest guy there is. He'd been selected to come to New York for being the best soldiers, not just on a military level, he was what was considered a true representation of the best of what Israel had to offer.*
*There were a group of Israelis that had been picked to have time off from the IDF and Nir was one of the eldest in the group.
Now picture this. After finishing one of the days orientation (why do this bullshit always happen on orientation) the leaders in our group are gathered around chatting about the day. I don't know which god was smiling on me to get me lumped with Kartman(just to preserve his true identity), but it happened. So, I walk over and he's slagging off everyone. Then, Nir. I look at the others, some of whom have known Kartman for years. No one says or does anything. I do. Damn right I do.
Kartman says Nir hasn't do anything manly (not realising he's just come out of war). I proceed to ask Kartman what HE has done. Silence kills the loudest bullies. He shrinks. I'm so ready at this point. The others get twitchy. Turns out Kartman is all mouth and I'm ushered out. One of Kartman's friends says how amazed he is that I'd stood up to him and how he'd wished he'd done it.
I am not a angry or violent person. But I am opinionated and have a strong sense of what is right and wrong. The orientation here in lisbon was carried out by the heads of the schools, some of whom are well experienced, some of whom are not. By the end of week one everyone was complaining, at the bar, about the patronising and dull nature of the course. Some of it was ridiculous.
A big thing in the TEFL world is encouraging students to learn actively and to cut down on the TTT (teacher talking time). We all knew this. We are qualified and experienced teachers ourselves. Yet, the organisers of the orientation failed to realise the irony of lecturing us on good teaching habits, talking at us for 90 mins flat about things we already know (and reading from a damn sheet!). Again it is a bit hard to articulate the grind of 9-6 sessions of patronizing lectures. It was SO bad.
By the end of the Friday I had to tell someone. I asked the others if anyone had felt the same as me. The previous few days I'd heard a lot of people, if not all, say how bad the sessions were and how they just wanted to sort out housing/bank accounts/travel passes etc But no one wanted to report anything back to the management. They made excuses, looked edgy, skipping around the issue.
It had been similar with Kartman. I'd asked his friends if he was just excited or if he was always such an arsehole. They said he was just like that and I would have to get used to it, everyone just accepted it. The same with most of the other teachers, they told me that it was normal, that it would damage my reputation, wasn't worth it etc etc. Stress built up is not a good thing, so I did what I thought was right. I went to speak to the head of all of the schools in the whole of Portugal. I went with a list.
The guy, Jeffrey, was very receptive. He was surprised but understanding and said that they had been thinking of changing the course but had not bothered and it hadn't been changed for some time. Afterwards I felt like I had confronted the school bully as the other teachers were dying to know if I'd been successful at making a challenge. I said that I needed to pack up my things and that my complaining was not 'the cambridge way'. I said I was upset at being fired but that was how it was. They had a major look of sympathy in their eyes.
Some really did believe me,....
A few weeks in, like with Kartman, despite worrying slightly about repercussions, nothing detrimental has happened to me and in both cases people treat/treated me with a tad more respect.
ps. sorry for the digression!
Stepping off the plane I had mixed feelings. It was hot in the UK, and the weather said it'd be raining when I got off the plane. I'd been chatting bad Portuguese with the lady next to me, which had been nice, but now I was here and couldn't take my eye off outside. It was sunny!!!!! Not only was it sunny, it was very hot,so hot I felt pretty stupid in my hottest, thickest trousers,... and it was nearly 5pm. There was a sign saying it was 26 degrees.
I'd asked to get a list of the teachers' emails to establish initial contact before our orientation started and this had blossomed into an email list. Since then, we'd all met up on the airport, somewhat nervously and chatted on the plane.
After being greeted off the plane we were driven to the hotel, paired off with people we were to share a room with and told to be ready to meet for dinner in 50 mins. I was paired with the first teacher I'd met at the airport, a guy called Gwylym. I got on with him well and was happy to be in a room, from the get go, with someone I liked- we weren't told that we had to share rooms...
Dinner was a lavish three course meal, with all the teachers spread along a long table down the middle of the restaurant. I had soup, salmon and fruit salad. Three hours of eating later I was getting seriously antsy, I wanted to walk about, explore, but had to wait.
Back at the hotel we went to the nearby bar. The bar looks at bit odd, more like a cafe, though it had drinkers there till past midnight and over the next 10 days we got special treatment and were frequently allowed to stay till past 1am. With warm evenings, especially the last 2 weeks in Sept (with evening temp of over 25!) most of the time we sat outside until midnight then inside until we were turfed out.
The bar sessions were great as the first 10 days were anxious for everyone. The orientation was more fear mongering, lecturing us, sometimes by teachers with less experience than their audience. These sessions were dull with a capital DUH. The teachers who were delivering the 'sessions' are the heads of the various schools, some were cocky, some were rude, some insulted us(one riduculed me in front of everyone- I fell silent and she profusely apologised- probably to fill the silence), some were boring, some were all of the above.
To put it into perspective that we were all homeless, staying in an expensive hotel and had to find housing for the next 9 months. We were also new to the city, and to top it off didn't know anyone, anything, or any Portuguese. The sun was shining all through the sessions, making them that more painful. Something had to be done. Oddly, at a few key moments in my life, there are times when I feel very agitated by a what I, and often others, feel to be unjust, unfair, annoying and unnecessary. Sometimes it's only be that's bold though (self righteousness is something I'm definitively not short of!)
Last time I remember this happening was when I went to New York, to work on camp America and there was an overgrown bully aged 22, throwing (literally) his weight around.. His age matched his appearance which equaled his attitude to life- he didn't care about his appearance (ugliest dude ever) like he didn't care for anyone, or anything. He routinely insulted peers, kids and even superiors- amazingly often to their face, to little reaction. Being in New York was shocking to a 19 year old, but this guy was something else.
Oddly, he never insulted me, I'm still not sure why(he was three times me size in both directions). Anyway, I tested the ground and for about three days, I let him do it to others. Then he insulted my room mate, who'd just come out of the army, where he'd shot down enemy war planes. No one had ever challenged the bully. He'd been at the top of this very small tree for a while. He'd never even been challenged. I have never wanted to kill anyone more than this guy, and I'm not a violent person. Nir, my Israeli friend, was the calmest, sweetest, friendliest guy there is. He'd been selected to come to New York for being the best soldiers, not just on a military level, he was what was considered a true representation of the best of what Israel had to offer.*
*There were a group of Israelis that had been picked to have time off from the IDF and Nir was one of the eldest in the group.
Now picture this. After finishing one of the days orientation (why do this bullshit always happen on orientation) the leaders in our group are gathered around chatting about the day. I don't know which god was smiling on me to get me lumped with Kartman(just to preserve his true identity), but it happened. So, I walk over and he's slagging off everyone. Then, Nir. I look at the others, some of whom have known Kartman for years. No one says or does anything. I do. Damn right I do.
Kartman says Nir hasn't do anything manly (not realising he's just come out of war). I proceed to ask Kartman what HE has done. Silence kills the loudest bullies. He shrinks. I'm so ready at this point. The others get twitchy. Turns out Kartman is all mouth and I'm ushered out. One of Kartman's friends says how amazed he is that I'd stood up to him and how he'd wished he'd done it.
I am not a angry or violent person. But I am opinionated and have a strong sense of what is right and wrong. The orientation here in lisbon was carried out by the heads of the schools, some of whom are well experienced, some of whom are not. By the end of week one everyone was complaining, at the bar, about the patronising and dull nature of the course. Some of it was ridiculous.
A big thing in the TEFL world is encouraging students to learn actively and to cut down on the TTT (teacher talking time). We all knew this. We are qualified and experienced teachers ourselves. Yet, the organisers of the orientation failed to realise the irony of lecturing us on good teaching habits, talking at us for 90 mins flat about things we already know (and reading from a damn sheet!). Again it is a bit hard to articulate the grind of 9-6 sessions of patronizing lectures. It was SO bad.
By the end of the Friday I had to tell someone. I asked the others if anyone had felt the same as me. The previous few days I'd heard a lot of people, if not all, say how bad the sessions were and how they just wanted to sort out housing/bank accounts/travel passes etc But no one wanted to report anything back to the management. They made excuses, looked edgy, skipping around the issue.
It had been similar with Kartman. I'd asked his friends if he was just excited or if he was always such an arsehole. They said he was just like that and I would have to get used to it, everyone just accepted it. The same with most of the other teachers, they told me that it was normal, that it would damage my reputation, wasn't worth it etc etc. Stress built up is not a good thing, so I did what I thought was right. I went to speak to the head of all of the schools in the whole of Portugal. I went with a list.
The guy, Jeffrey, was very receptive. He was surprised but understanding and said that they had been thinking of changing the course but had not bothered and it hadn't been changed for some time. Afterwards I felt like I had confronted the school bully as the other teachers were dying to know if I'd been successful at making a challenge. I said that I needed to pack up my things and that my complaining was not 'the cambridge way'. I said I was upset at being fired but that was how it was. They had a major look of sympathy in their eyes.
Some really did believe me,....
A few weeks in, like with Kartman, despite worrying slightly about repercussions, nothing detrimental has happened to me and in both cases people treat/treated me with a tad more respect.
ps. sorry for the digression!
Sunday, 5 October 2008
The first post!!
So..., welcome! This is my new blog for my random ramblings about my life, my teaching experiences, bboying, the weather and the general ups and downs of life in Lisbon, Portugal.
Hopefully it will be well received!
Adeus for now,...
Hopefully it will be well received!
Adeus for now,...
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