accustomed to my unorthodox methods, they soon settled and knuckled down to studying and learning.
The lesson following Konstantinos and Dimitra’s fight proved interesting. They’d created their own personal advertisement (minus their names) and described themselves in a variety of ways: “Like disco” —I discovered this was Dimitra, “Like eating rabbit” —Konstantinos handed this to me with a wide grin. I pinned these up at the front of the classroom, divided into boy and girl sections and asked the girls to each choose a boy whose description sounded intriguing, and vice versa. Konstantinos and Dimitra picked each other, supporting my theory that they would, indeed, eventually marry and have many children.
“No Miss!” Dimitra wailed when she found out that the rabbit eater was her arch-enemy. She threw Konstantinos a look of disgust, which Konstantinos returned with interest.
I soon became aware, though, that they lacked any meaningful knowledge of the outside world.
“Paris is a great country city” I corrected a sentence in an essay from Litza. She could’ve just made an English language mistake, but it was best to set the record straight.
The next time Konstantinos and his motley crew came to class I’d pinned a world map to the back wall with a red coloured pin in the UK and a blue one in Greece.
“Where’s France, Litza?” I handed her a white pin. Litza wandered up to the map, umm-ed and ahh-ed for about a minute, then stuck it in the correct place.
“And what’s the capital…anyone?”
“Paris, obviously
Kyria
.” Litza chose to answer. She looked very pleased with herself.
“Well done! Yes, obviously, but be sure to double check your homework in the future for any mistakes.”
OK, I’ll let the matter drop then. At least she’s got it correct.
Taking care not to boast, I then started to reminisce about my worldwide travels.
“Miss, call out the countries you’ve been to, we’ll find them and place a pin on the map” said Konstantinos, taking the initiative for once. Soon the map became an interesting array of colours and I began to see my role not only as a teacher here, but also to help broaden their horizons and stimulate an interest in other cultures. The class was a great success, and I decided to do something similar with the younger children. Bettina and her group chose to pair up to research various countries. By the end of the week, there were a variety of colourful posters on my classroom walls with pictures ranging from Spaniards dancing the flamenco to the mountainous beauty of New Zealand.
While I was popular with the students, I still felt unwelcomed by the other teachers. Although Manos drove me home from work and would often stop by the roadside café to purchase the renowned
spanakopita
, Helena, Eleni and Alexandra still acted cool. I’d tried to initiate discussions with them in the staffroom, but I’d had no joy. They’d smile politely, then Eleni would then stick in her headphones and Helena and Alexandra would pop off to buy a coffee together, never asking if I wanted one.
On the other hand, Mrs Stella was acting much more warmly. She’d occasionally call me into the office to ask my advice about particular students—what did I think of so-and-so and how was so-and-so’s behaviour in my class.
Maybe this is why they’re funny: she seems to talk to me more than them.
“And Konstantinos, he is behaving himself, no? He knows he’s attractive, and I fear his ego gets in the way.”
“I’m finding ways to keep them out of mischief.” I smiled at the memory of Konstantinos’s face when he discovered his preferred date was Dimitra. I wasn’t going to be sycophantic, but Mrs Stella was the most important person for me to get along with—especially as I was living in an apartment in her house. I was enjoying teaching the kids and having Kaliopi as a friend. She certainly made life interesting! I knew I couldn’t be liked by everybody, so I
The lesson following Konstantinos and Dimitra’s fight proved interesting. They’d created their own personal advertisement (minus their names) and described themselves in a variety of ways: “Like disco” —I discovered this was Dimitra, “Like eating rabbit” —Konstantinos handed this to me with a wide grin. I pinned these up at the front of the classroom, divided into boy and girl sections and asked the girls to each choose a boy whose description sounded intriguing, and vice versa. Konstantinos and Dimitra picked each other, supporting my theory that they would, indeed, eventually marry and have many children.
“No Miss!” Dimitra wailed when she found out that the rabbit eater was her arch-enemy. She threw Konstantinos a look of disgust, which Konstantinos returned with interest.
I soon became aware, though, that they lacked any meaningful knowledge of the outside world.
“Paris is a great country city” I corrected a sentence in an essay from Litza. She could’ve just made an English language mistake, but it was best to set the record straight.
The next time Konstantinos and his motley crew came to class I’d pinned a world map to the back wall with a red coloured pin in the UK and a blue one in Greece.
“Where’s France, Litza?” I handed her a white pin. Litza wandered up to the map, umm-ed and ahh-ed for about a minute, then stuck it in the correct place.
“And what’s the capital…anyone?”
“Paris, obviously
Kyria
.” Litza chose to answer. She looked very pleased with herself.
“Well done! Yes, obviously, but be sure to double check your homework in the future for any mistakes.”
OK, I’ll let the matter drop then. At least she’s got it correct.
Taking care not to boast, I then started to reminisce about my worldwide travels.
“Miss, call out the countries you’ve been to, we’ll find them and place a pin on the map” said Konstantinos, taking the initiative for once. Soon the map became an interesting array of colours and I began to see my role not only as a teacher here, but also to help broaden their horizons and stimulate an interest in other cultures. The class was a great success, and I decided to do something similar with the younger children. Bettina and her group chose to pair up to research various countries. By the end of the week, there were a variety of colourful posters on my classroom walls with pictures ranging from Spaniards dancing the flamenco to the mountainous beauty of New Zealand.
While I was popular with the students, I still felt unwelcomed by the other teachers. Although Manos drove me home from work and would often stop by the roadside café to purchase the renowned
spanakopita
, Helena, Eleni and Alexandra still acted cool. I’d tried to initiate discussions with them in the staffroom, but I’d had no joy. They’d smile politely, then Eleni would then stick in her headphones and Helena and Alexandra would pop off to buy a coffee together, never asking if I wanted one.
On the other hand, Mrs Stella was acting much more warmly. She’d occasionally call me into the office to ask my advice about particular students—what did I think of so-and-so and how was so-and-so’s behaviour in my class.
Maybe this is why they’re funny: she seems to talk to me more than them.
“And Konstantinos, he is behaving himself, no? He knows he’s attractive, and I fear his ego gets in the way.”
“I’m finding ways to keep them out of mischief.” I smiled at the memory of Konstantinos’s face when he discovered his preferred date was Dimitra. I wasn’t going to be sycophantic, but Mrs Stella was the most important person for me to get along with—especially as I was living in an apartment in her house. I was enjoying teaching the kids and having Kaliopi as a friend. She certainly made life interesting! I knew I couldn’t be liked by everybody, so I
Similar Books
