What a week. One of the most stressful of being a teacher. New classes with a small business group, formal observation, trying a dogme lesson, my birthday I couldn’t even celebrate because of work, a conversation club on Friday evening.
I also managed to book a flight back to Cyprus for July, but whether it will materialise it’s anyone’s guess.
To cope with all the stress I’m trying to focus a day at a time and try and enjoy the present as much as possible (sometimes it’s not that possible).
So I thought for my weekly post and video to put this little activity I wrote about a while ago into a little video.
The rest of the details is on the video. Skip to 3:04 for the activity if you wan’t to go straight in.
Well here we are. Most of the lockdown measures have now been lifted in Italy and it makes this the last video in the lockdown series.
It starts with a song, it includes tears and decisions, the whole lot.
It hasn’t been an easy decision, but I decided not to stay in Italy after my contract. It’s been an incredible experience but way too stressful and exhausting, mentally and physically.
I’m not quitting teaching, I will give it a go again at some point but I need time to figure out what I want to do next.
I’ll finally take the break I meant to have last year but got too scared. I’m terrified but also excited!
PS- I will still try and post a video every week 🙂
PS two- I don’t own the copyrights of the gorgeous Kodaline song I attempted to sing.
I’m not sure if anyone other than fellow teachers would understand just how exhausted I feel today, on a Sunday after a week of 6 new courses (on top of my existing ones), using a platform that doesn’t allow pairwork or groupwork, 6 hours of pure pain, mainly just talking for the majority of the time, soul-destroying, plus invigilating and marking and lesson planning and anything else that comes up on a normal week.
But at least we are now allowed outside and I managed to go for a walk by the beach on Friday, which was awesome.
So this week’s video is mostly footage of the outside world that I almost forgot it existed! I can’t wait to go home, enjoy my summer and seriously consider if teaching is for me. 40 days to go.
Do you believe there’s a person out there that can make you happi-er, (not happy, your happiness shouldn’t solely depend on someone else, but ha-ppi-er), do you believe there’s that special person who would love you for who you are, who would see you in your worst, darkest, most insane moments but would still choose to be with you? Do you believe there’s someone you can live with for years and years and still adore them?
Sometimes I do. Sometimes I’m a hopeless romantic and most of the time I’m a cynical b***h.
I was in a miserable relationship myself for the best part of 7 years and I’ve only dated a couple of times after that and none of them was a pleasant experience which put me off since, so my cynicism is justified.
But every now and then I come across an old couple who I can tell by just looking at them that they’ve been together for years and years and still love each other to the bones, thinking that maybe it is possible to experience that true love (hopeless romantic), but then wonder if it’s even feasible in the era of fast, disposable love, where people are too selfish and break up too easily or for the sake of not being along they stay together but are miserable (cynical b***h).
Last summer whilst visiting Oxford, I came across one of those couples. They were both dressed immaculately as they were to attend a wedding at the Trinity College chapel and I don’t remember their exact conversation but I remember they were incredibly sweet to each other and to us.
At some point the gentleman asked his lady to pose for a photo, I could see the love in their eyes, it was such a beautiful moment so I tried to take a picture of them to capture that but somehow they both turned and looked at me.
So here they are. True love, in the time of (modern) cholera.
I desperately needed a haircut. I couldn’t even look at my hair. Everything happened so fast I didn’t get the chance to have my hair cut before I moved to Italy and the last one I had was early in the summer in Southampton (I miss the UK so much more I dare to admit sometimes).
Of course it wasn’t about the hair. It was all about self care and I’d started neglecting myself, pretty dangerous for me, it lets the depression and severe anxiety demons creep in and slowly take over without me realising until is too late, so I had to get my hair cut. Urgently.
I’m not sure if you remember where I live now, it’s a small city where very few people you come across speak English, so even the thought of attempting to book an appointment I found intimidating.
But self-preservation prevailed and I wouldn’t let my very poor Italian get in the way. (My Italian hasn’t improved much since, in case you are wondering.)
If you asked me what the most common expression I’ve used so far during my first three months in Italy was, it’s not ‘scusi’, or ‘per favore’ but..
‘Non parlo Italiano’.
It’s my opening line most of the time. Oh no, I actually first speak in English, as I often forget they won’t understand me, then I notice the baffled expression on their face and I explain.
So here’s how I managed to get a (decent) haircut with minimal communication but plenty of awkwardness.
Eleni- ‘Hi, I’d like too…, oh sh**. Non parlo Italiano, parle Inglese?
Hairdresser- Mmmm, no… (waves at one of the other hairdressers who knows a bit of English apparently).
El- Taglio (cut). Pointing at my hair. ‘Un po’ (How the hell do you say ‘trim’ in Italian?)
H-Si. Quando? (Yes! Finally a word I know!)
El-Sabato, matina (morning)?
H– (After checking their appointment book). Mm, tredici? (1pm, Italians tend to follow the 24hr format).
E– Si, si, grazie!
Pheew. First step done. I managed to book an appointment!
Saturday (haircut day)
11pm
I couldn’t remember if the appointment was at 11am or 1pm. In my head numbers were mixed up the minute I left the hairdressers two day ago. Full time teaching does that to you, messing up your brain. So I went at 11am, just to check. The hairdressers burst into laughing. I thought I’d attempt to go food shopping since I got up anyway, but the supermarket was way too busy for my liking (Damn, I could have stayed in bed a little longer).
1pm
I walked in. I had no idea what to say or do. The place was full of customers chatting away. I felt paralysed, mute. I couldn’t let any words out. I didn’t know how to. I could understand some of the conversations but I couldn’t take part. A horrible feeling.
That’s how my students must feel… I kept thinking.
After about half an hour wait (which I was ‘lucky’ as quite often you wait way longer, I was told), I was summoned on the chair.
The stylist asked me how I wanted my hair. I managed to explain (thanks to Antonella, Elena and Google translate) that I just wanted a trim and layers but not too short.
I was terrified. What if she gives me a horrible haircut, what if I end up looking like a pencil?
We didn’t speak much after that. She couldn’t speak English, I couldn’t speak Italian. She made an effort, which I appreciated, she asked me if I was a student, thankfully I knew how to say ‘I’m an English teacher’. My second most used expression (‘insegnante di Inglese’).
An hour later and after a lot of miming and gesturing (and a few word exhanges partially thanks to similarities between Greek and Italian), I left the hairdressers relieved I didn’t look like a pencil, it was actually a decent haircut and cheap compared to UK prices (12 euros).
But it was the most awkward hairdresser’s experience I ever had. And kind of funny at the same time. I had a little giggle afterwards. It’s fascinating how we humans manage to communicate even when we don’t speak the same language, although sometimes we can’t communicate even if we do speak the same language. The irony.
A month later and I’m none the wiser when it comes to Italian. My timetable doesn’t allow me to attend Italian lessons anymore, though I’m still learning from my students, who feel incredibly proud judging by the huge smile on their face every time they teach me an Italian word.
I’m not sure I’d like to stay in (Southern) Italy after my contract ends, but one thing I discovered is that I love living somewhere I’ve never lived before, being thrown into the deep, learning how to… well how to adopt and survive in another country, another culture, another life. That’s something I definitely want more of.
For now, I’ll enjoy the rest of my stay at this little, odd town that is Reggio Calabria.
I cannot quite believe it’s only been a week I’ve been back from Cyprus. The Christmas holidays feel a long long time ago… so to reminisce and to make myself regret even more I decided to cut my break to Cyprus short here’s a little vlog I put together from my Boxing Day walk to the picturesque village of Kato Drys featuring a huge, great restaurant with delicious food and surprisingly affordable prices, O Platanos, and a little traditional shop called ‘To madratzin tis yiayias‘ (grandma’s rolling pin’)
I hope I’ll spend more time putting together little videos like this, I missed it so much, I hope you enjoy it!
Four months ago I had no idea what or where Reggio Calabria was. I’d never heard of it before and also until four months ago, I’d never taught anything to anyone.
Fast forward to now and I’ve been living at Reggio for just over two months. I haven’t seen much yet and what I think of it so far it’s not an accurate representation (more on that another time). I’ve been mainly working, teaching a wide range of ages and levels, from large classes of 9, 11, 13 and 16 year old school children to one-to-one with a 50 something old doctor and a 14 year old teenager.
But I haven’t just been teaching. I marked and invigilated tests, I had the chance to organise and be part of different events, I filmed and edited a couple of promos for the school, I am now presenting at a conference next month and organising an event as well for February.
It’s been a crazy two months as you can probably guess. Rewarding, challenging, stimulating.
But…
oh my God.
It’s exhausting. I feel mentally and physically drained. And I honestly wouldn’t have survived these two months without my fellow teachers.
Teasing Nour on a daily basis, having a laugh with Katie (my favourite face) and Hannah (creative genious), exceptional A-class sarky humour with Vince and Bry, chats outside with my Italian spirit twin, Antonella, giggles and random convos with Shannon, talking TV series and films with Matt, reminding Alexei his Greek, reminiscing life before teaching with Kate on our way to Telesio, travelling chats with Maria, singing along with Mariah and Nuno, giggles with Fanni, making a serious effort to tease Lisa with Beatles and Christmas songs, talking Christmas filims with Jen, stealing precious little moments to chat to Lucie when I see her, all sorts of random convos with Suzanne, Italian lessons with Anna, brainstorming ideas with Helena and comforting each other, making James laugh (I love making James laugh), chats with Cesca on our way back from externals, having a laugh with my favourite reception team, Carlo, Elena, Domi, Franci and little catch ups with the bosses Marco and Patrizia when they pop in every now and then.
So thank you EVERY ONE!
Thank you Patrizia, James and Lucie for offering me the position and making me feel welcome from day one and most of all a huge thank you to this beautifully weird, fun, unique bunch of people. I would have genuinely quit by now if it weren’t for you.
I had just finished my last assessed teaching practice. The feeling of relief was indescribable. I did it, I couldn’t believe I actually managed to finish my CELTA. And I couldn’t believe that two my sweetest friends, Syed and Priya, took the day off to visit Cambridge and see me before I was to fly back to Cyprus.
As soon as I left college I headed into the town centre to meet them and I was so happy I nearly cried.
You may not realised it but that was exactly what I needed that day. After a month long, sleep and fun deprivation, away from all my friends, worrying they may forget me now that I’m leaving the country, it meant the world to me that two of them were there with me, celebrating my success.
So thank you Priya and Syed. Thank you for being such sweet, caring friends and for making the trip to Cambridge. It meant the world to me. I miss you!
Have you ever met someone you have a lot in common with? I mean A LOT. Similar taste in music, reading, films, your whole belief system, life aspirations, dreams, even sometimes identical way of thinking.
It’s pretty rare.
That’s why I feel so blessed and overwhelmingly lucky I’ve met a couple of these people in my life so far. One of them is Helena.
One of my favourite things ever is our long chats over a delicious hot cup of herbal tea and cake about travelling, huge life dilemmas and our little adventures, from little wanders in the Forest to running across London at midnight to watch A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
We’ve been daydreaming of escaping our office jobs and exploring the world for a while before we both decided to leave the UK and follow our dreams.
We inspired and encouraged each other to finally take the big step and walk into the unknown.
I don’t know when and where we’ll meet again lovely lady but I cannot wait to see you somewhere on this big wild world and have a long catch up. So much to share already!
I remember just after my interview when Barnaby handed me a bunch of Cambridge English exam books.
I didn’t have a single clue about any of it and I found everything overwhelming.
For about a month I spent hours and hours on planning just four lessons a week. Who knew a month later I’d teach four lessons a day and have an hour or two to plan everything!
If it weren’t for Barnaby and Maro, who offered me my first teaching position only a few weeks after my CELTA, I wouldn’t be where I am today.
So thank you both and sorry I left so soon. I had to follow my heart. I’m not sure whether it was the right decision yet, only time will tell, but I’ll forever be grateful to you.
Lessons I learned after I turned 30 