Bournemouth, week one

Tuesday, August 11th
So, here I am in Bournemouth (note to self –and to whoever reads this: when this is published I will actually be in Brighton for a “dirty” weekend…in most senses, unfortunately..).
Second day on the job, although technically today was day one, after a very confusing start…

So, it’s Sunday afternoon and I’m enjoying Brighton with Long Time No See Friend from Holland, and it’s a lovely day indeed: organic food, carrot cupcake, sunshine, the pier, the shops, a lot of catching up... It’s been eight years, after all.
Half way through the afternoon I decide to pretend not to notice text message number one from Guy from Language School, which is only interesting on a formal point of view, as in: very strange way of composing a text…
“Hi.left.tx.book.in.jenny.s.back.garden.”

Excuse me?

The following text is a lot more alarming, as it clearly tells me that I am supposed to teach the morning after! Welcome to the world of language teaching, everybody!
So I go back to Grime House and start packing for the week, music playing from John’s radio, and I am trying to think of what to teach… A month of teenagers and children is not helping my brain, as all I can think of is activities that require a loooot of drawing and little else… Also, as I cannot catch a late train, my alarm clock is set for…3.30 (yes, 3.30am..). Boy, what I’m not prepared to do to work.
Hours later, I haven’t packed yet, lesson’s not planned yet either (blame it on BBC iPlayer)… To waste some more time before really getting down to work, I decide to check my mailbox, and: Guy from Language School has decided that I don’t have to teach the morning after: phew…no morning call at 3.30!

The morning after, a very yawning me jumps on the train at 9am, and tries to get some sleep for the next 2.30 hours…then Guy from Language School calls, and it comes out that I don’t have to teach in the afternoon either, whereas his email was of another opinion (“lessons are from 9.15 to 12.35 and from 14.00 to 15.30” – what does that sound to you, or is it just me?)…
Well, the school is nice, the staff room is huge and there are a lot of resources (Captain Photocopy is on a mission here!), the classes are comfy, there’s a cafeteria!, and my students are C-O-O-L. Really. No other way to describe them. I love them to bits already.

In other news, day number two in Bournemouth saw me walking down to the city centre and the pier and finally to the beach.. a sandy beach…with lovely, warm, golden sand…
I walked and walked and walked, on the shore, taking pictures, and feeling the beauty of the water on my legs, the soft sand under my feet, the sound of the waves (God bless Virginia Woolf, she knew it all), the sun on my skin…
I am in love with Bournemouth already, just for this beautiful beach. The city centre and shopping area looked interesting too, and there’s a lovely garden between it and the beach…
Boy, it’s a beautiful place.
So I think of Brighton and of the lanes, unique and interesting, I think of the seafront that stretches from the Marina to Hove, I think of familiar places, of my beloved library; and then I see the colours of Bournemouth, I feel the sea water on my legs and the sand under my feet, and I don’t know what to feel anymore.

I knew that something had happened, a few weeks ago, when I finally got over Ex Love of My Life (if I ever mention him again, he will be ELLf – cute, hey?). I knew that my choice to go back to Brighton was a matter of starting from where I had left, but I also felt that I was ready to really move on, in every sense. That’s why I considered Bournemouth for some applications for jobs, and other cities too.
I am really ready to live again, and explore as my nature tells me to do.
It must be this lovely sun, the sound of the waves, the colours of the gardens and the quiet of the park that I crossed to get to the centre. It must be the (almost total) lack of hills, the nice line of houses in Winton, the abundance of trees and of green. It must be this room, so white and cosy.
Once again, I am torn in two. It must be my destiny.

Wednesday, August 12th – am
My morning class is lovely! Although sometimes too motivated…
Now, one of the guys arrived at school 8 months ago as a total beginner, and is now a pre-intermediate: well done,man! But in these 3 days, before he completes the course and has to go back to his country, he wants to:
- finish the book (we are at the end of unit 8, with 7 units to go…);
- go from pre-intermediate to advanced, or at least upper-int.;
- be ready for the IELTS and pass the IELTS

Ahem… Maybe a bit too ambitious?

And in the staff room…

“What do you need that for?”
“Well, it’s a re-writable cd, I thought I would pop it in the microwave and see how long it takes to melt.”
………….
No, I didn’t say that, really…

Thursday, August 13th – pride and.. pride.
And yet another observation has gone. How many times have I been observed? I almost don’t care anymore: first sign that I am definitely an experienced teacher, hey? Feedback is good: I am a fantastic eliciting-machine, apparently!
Also, I have to cover an afternoon class – I am a satellite teacher, after all.
The students are wonderful, fun, chatty, lovely; I end the lesson saying that I would really love to teach them again, and they all say that they want it too: “you’re good, we like you!”.
I don’t really need much to be happy, do I?