New(ish) pastures, new blog

I’ve been in Poland for about two months now. I thought it was about time that put some time and space aside for writing properly. So far, I believe I’ve managed to put a few posts on my blog Tramspotting. It’s time for a new site (which will kill a few minutes that I don’t really have to spare) and for those who really care, a new folder on my computer. It appears that internet connections in this country are about as reliable as public transport.

This new venture has been brought on by a sudden desire to use my brain to produce more than the occasional ditherings about my occasional ditherings. Hence, if I am to produce a regular report on my life in this strange foreign country, I’m going to need to write more often than I have the chance to upload said writing.

So what have I been up to? While I’d like to say that I’ve been abusing the cheap alcohol and the Polish ladies’ affections for British men, I’m afraid that I haven’t so much. The number of times I’ve spent at the hands of the vodka gods have been minimal. And I have one Polish lady to contend with. That I’m contented with. To be honest, I’ve been doing what most people who move to a foreign country do. That’s spending an awful lot of time looking for work and accommodation. An awful amount of time working. And a fair share of time dealing with immigration (and I’m not even technically immigrating!).

Work wise, I’ve found myself a very cushy job at a language school in the city. There are more of these than I could want to count, as I went to more interviews than I’d want to count. After a fortnight saying pretty much exactly the same thing to school directors around town I settled on the one that looked like the best option. Regular hours (to the extent that I know there will be some for me), a central location (providing I’m teaching at the school) and a very interesting approach to teaching English as a foreign language. Will you all please dough your caps to Mr Callan.

Having never seen (or heard of, in all honesty) the Callan method, I was instantly taken by its (somewhat quirky) direct method. For those, like me a few months ago, who don’t know: the Callan Method teaches English by getting students to use the language without thinking about their native language. The teacher asks the student a question in English, then repeats it (in English), before prompting the student into answering the question. That’s right, in English. As opposed to conversation classes, which I presumed I’d be working in when I arrived in the country, the teacher does all the work in terms of thinking and performing, allowing the student to understand the question posed. Not only is it more entertaining for me, but I’m finding it very beneficial to my abilities to talk in public to groups of people (bring on the media career when I get back to England) and it’s improving my use of English no end!

The first class I observed as an outsider was nothing like I’d ever seen before. Klementina (who I later found out to be her name) showed me through the motions of a class for all of twenty minutes before throwing me to the lions. My first attempt was rather embarrassing, but then, that’s something I’ve learned so far from the work. Never be embarrassed when you’re paid to be in embarrassing situations. The second class I viewed (in which I was to teach for 50 minutes and reviewed) was a completely different experience again. Whereas Klementina was relaxed and friendly with the students, the teacher in this class (of whom I haven’t found out her name) was like a primary school headmistress. From the 1900s! The students looked like rabbits in the proverbial headlights. However, when they couldn’t understand the questions she asked (fired at a rate similar to that of a minigun), she translated into Polish. Hmm… I can’t do that, I thought. I won’t go as fast. And so, in my review lesson I tried to be the good cop to the bad cop in the interrogation. It seemed to work. The students seemed to like me. I was told to speed up.

Now after six weeks on the job I’ve found myself at relative ease firing questions at unsuspecting students. I’ve been reaching the 20 pages of material I have been asked to. And guess what? I’ve been taken aside by my director, who said that I’ve been going too fast for the students. Typical.

So this week, I have pledged to myself to work at an average rate (one that the other teachers seem to go at, as opposed to the rate that was originally asked of me). I’m also promising to myself to get to every single lesson on time. It’s a problem that I face on a number of counts. 1) I’m new in town. I don’t know the best ways (or in some cases the right way) to get to destinations on time, and; 2) I’m British. I still haven’t acclimatised to the Polish approach of pushing past every man, woman and small child to get a square 30 centimetres to stand in on the bus/metro/tram. But I’m sure that after last week’s debacle I’m never going to go drinking on a school night again.

I’m sure in the weeks and months to come that I’m here in God’s Playground, I’ll have plenty to write about. If not the regular chance to stick it online. My work schedule is scattered between 7.00am and 8.00pm, so providing I’ve got the energy to cart my laptop around in my bag and a few złoty to spend on a coffee, I’ll try and get this posted. Either way, I’m saving it on my computer, so if your prying eyes don’t get hold of it, I’ll have a chance to remember my stay in this strange, strange land.