Faking It 2
After my first post about teaching at least 2 people (probably half my readership) told me not to worry about teaching grammar because I have mad grammar skills. I mean yeah I do have good grammar skills, probably the best I know * when it comes to papers for school and formal business memos and e-mails. However, to those of you who believe that you or I have good enough grammar skills to teach English to foreigners, I ask you this:
What exactly is the past perfect continuous tense and how do you explain it clearly to someone who has a limited English vocabulary?
Now do you see why I’m a bit nervous about teaching grammar?
But seriously, I think it's going pretty well so far. I still don't have a book to work with for one of my groups and I'm not sure how much I've really taught anyone. Everyone seems happy though and I'm learning how to teach grammar little by little.
*I’m not really that cocky, I’m just being a geek and quoting a movie.
The Good Life
Yes, that’s right. Life is good. I’ve found the balance that I’ve been looking for. Unfortunately it will only last for a month and then I will probably never find it again in my life. The balance I speak of is the one that allows me to have the perfect amount of time for work, time for exercise, time with friends, time with husband, time with family, time sleeping, time cleaning, time cooking, and time just relaxing (in no particular order).
I’m working just enough to get that great feeling that I’m actually contributing something to the world, but not enough to be stressed about work all of the time. But come to think of it even when I was working 40 hours per week I wasn’t so sure I was contributing anything to the world; at least not anything worth while. But that’s another topic for another time. Anyway, I work about 14 hours per week plus some prep time and the best part is that I don’t really owe anyone anything here. If I don’t want to work I really don’t have to and I get to say how much and when.
I’m also working out on a regular basis and for the first time in my life it feels really great and I look forward to the gym. I’m finally understanding what all of my “in shape” and/or athletic friends really mean when they say they feel horrible if they don’t exercise for a few days.
I guess what all of this comes down to is that when you actually have time for everything, each of those things is infinitely more fulfilling. I have more control over my life. I’m not a slave to my job.(This is something I consciously fight against in America, but it’s always a losing battle.) I get to choose how much I work, how much I sleep, how much time I spend doing everything. It’s not a constant struggle to fit it all in. In a month I’ll be taking on 15 hours per week of Croatian lessons. That plus teaching will bring me up to 29 hours per week of firmly committed time. That will drastically change my balance. It will be a challenge but I think I’ll still be able to have some control and freedom with my time. My stress level will certainly go up but will still be much more manageable than in NY
People keep asking if we will go back to the US when H finished his service and I always basically say, “yes, of course. H has to finish school and there are more opportunities for us there” But now I can see why everyone is so curious. Our life is good here and people can see that. We’ve only been here 2 months, but I can tell that I’m going to look back longingly on this time for the rest of my life. That is, until I retire.
But I think the best part of the good life here is that H and I are getting along so well. We spend lots of time together and we still bicker from time to time, but we never seem to fight. Even when we bicker we seem to be able to turn a lot of it around and end up laughing at and with each other. We laugh a lot these days and it feels great. I feel our relationship and our love for each other growing deeper and richer with each passing day. This time together will probably be what I miss most of all when we return to our American life, but I’m confident that the growing we do here will stay with us forever.
Photo Update
I've been slacking off a bit on posting. It's been a busy week with my teaching and training, but I guess that's not much of an excuse. So here are a few photos to get me back on your good side. That is, if anyone noticed I've been slacking.
Here are a few of my second day on the slopes. There weren't really any action shots so you'll have to marvel at the scenery instead.
Here's an "Indian" on the main square. I think this guy and his band were actually Central or South American, but the image of the "Old West Indian" is what sells here I guess.
And here's my lunch from Sunday. This is called sir i vrhnije which literally translates to cheese and cream. The cheese is fresh cow's milk cheese which when broken up seems to be something like cottage cheese. The cream is, well, cream. You stir them together with some garlic and paprika and eat it with some bread. And that's what I call lunch. That's also what I call some gooood cheese and cream. Which leads me to wonder...could it have been Croatians who actually invented Philadelphia cream cheese? The world may never know.
Faking It
My life as a teacher has begun. I've taught two 1.5 hour classes this week, observed 4 more classes, and I have 3 more classes to teach before the week is through. Luckily since this is the first week back after the holiday break, no one expects too much. So as I frantically try to figure out how to actually teach someone something, the students are all just readjusting to speaking and thinking in English. The students I'll be dealing with range in level from lower intermediate to lower advanced and most of the want to learn "Business English".
I've got plenty of books at my disposal and a number of teachers that I can observe and talk to about how to actually teach. But so far, I still feel like a bit of an imposter. The guy who set most of this up for me keeps saying, "don't worry about it" and "you're a native speaker so you're offering them something that they wouldn't get anywhere else", and I keep thinking, "yeah, I'm offering them my bad grammar and spelling skills"
But they still seem to like me. So I guess the "faking it" is going pretty well so far. They don't realize that I will probably be learning just as much as they will from this experience. I take this as a good thing though, because I think it will keep me engaged. I've already learned that when the teacher is engaged the students will be too so I'm expecting this to all work out pretty well.
Tomorrow will be a new test. I will be sitting down with the very demanding boss lady who will not be satisfied if my insufficient grammar starts showing. I'm just waiting for someone to ask me if I'm actually a teacher, and tomorrow might be the day.
Sick and Tired...
...of what you ask? Nothing in particular. I'm literally sick and tired. A head cold decided to hit me with it's full force today. Of course I also for once had a lot of stuff to do today. Between the hours of 10 and 5 today I finally got my visa that will allow me to stay here legally until August 15, I also finally got my health insurance (and maybe not a moment too late), and I had two meetings that resulted in two job offers to teach English. I say offers, but that's not exactly how things work here. Either it's the way things are done around here or it's just there situations in particular, but these felt a lot more like job obligations than offers. I really don't have a problem with that since I think both would be very interesting, but it was just an interesting set of meetings.
I'm also quite lucky to find work at all. My "special skills" as a native English speaker are what has made this possible but it's still more than many Croatians my age can hope for. The economy here isn't great. It's growing, but it still has a long way to go. Many young people here have no jobs at all and no real prospects to speak of. I guess a good way to give you an idea of where the economy is here is to tell you that for the 6-8 hours of class room time I'll be teaching a week I'll make about $70.
I'm just realizing that this cold is making it difficult for me to come up with interesting things to say so I'll just give you a few more quick notes and then go drink my tea.
My favorite sausage and cook wine stand in the center has just had it's permit extended through February. I plan to take full advantage of this. I guess I'm not the only one who loves this stuff!
We went skiing again yesterday. This time it was an amazingly crisp day with not a cloud in the sky. It was warm enough to sit outside for lunch. We went with my mother in law and cousin in law who are right around my level. So the three of us had a good time skiing the easy slopes together while we sent H off to throw himself down the near vertical crazy hard slopes. It was a great day and my new equipment rocked!
It's official
I'm a skier. Today we bought skis, boots, and poles for me. Who would ever have thought that I would own my own skis? I'm pretty sure that I'm excited about this.
NO FEAR!...well maybe a little.
Tuesday
I went into the center on my own. Bought myself lunch (another yummy sausage). Went to two different stores to buy birthday gifts for our friend's twins. Asked for envelopes at the second store where they didn't have any. I went to another store, set off the alarm and figured out how to correct this little problem with the cashier. I then asked for envelopes at this store and then found them based on the sales person's directions and then bought them. I then bought myself a whole pack of tram tickets at the news stand and headed home. The entire time, I spoke Croatian and understood all of the Croatian that was spoken to me, and only one person responded to me in English. So Score! It all went well. In fact, in some ways it was a little anticlimactic. Nothing was really that difficult. So great. I can do this. My New Year's M.O. is a piece of cake.
Wednesday
What the hell was I thinking? No Fear?! No Way! Impossible! I'm scared out of my mind. I'm standing in the ski rental place in the Alps! THE ALPS PEOPLE! The boots I've just rented are two sizes too big and one is cracked, but it's all they've got. The skis are 20cm longer than I've even skied on and the last time I was anywhere near this steep of a vertical drop was a year ago. I'm fully aware of the fact that I will not actually die today. Nothing horrible will actually happen. I've skied before. I know how to make it down the mountain and if all else fails I can take off these too long skis and walk down. But for some reason I'm still scared. Very very scared. Fighting back tears scared.
20 minutes later, I'm heading down hill through a snow cloud. I can see about 30-50 feet in front of me, and I consider this a blessing because if I don't know what's in front of me I can't really be that scared of it right? Right! I make it to the bottom. I stop many many times on the way down and fall once in a steep area that technically qualifies as a more difficult level of slope. But I get up on my own. At the bottom, I realize every muscle in both of my legs is cramping. I don't know what's causing this, but the only way to keep it at bay is to keep moving so we head up the lift and back down again. The pain is getting worse and worse. So I wuss out and head to the lodge for a nice long lunch break.
At the start of the day I was more afraid than I'd been in a long time, but I conquered it. Once the skis were rented and H had walked me to the top of the slope there was really no choice, but I still tell myself that I had something to do with actually making it from the top to the bottom without crying. I readjusted my crappy boots at lunch and my legs finally felt better. I fit in two more good runs and a few baby slope runs* just for fun before they closed the place down for the day. So I had a good time. I'd do it again. And next time I won't be so scared. I promise.
On a side note the scenery driving to the mountain and on the mountain itself was like nothing I've seen before. It was incredible. It was a whole forest of giant pines closed like umbrellas by piles of snow. The further up we went the less green we saw. At the top of the mountain the tops of the boughs were covered in thick fluffy snow while the undersides were crystallized in frost and wind blown snow. It was truly amazing, and me without my camera. Oh well, you'll just have to wait until next time. In the mean time it looked something like this:
I looked something like this:
Or maybe this:
Okay, it was something in between.
*Don't let that baby slope fool you. I fell once there too, but I still claim it's because I was distracted by my hot ski instructor.
Croatian Through Conversation
So it's been a month and I'm sure you're all wondering how my language skills are. Well here's a little update.
Things I can say:
yes/no
thank you/you're welcome
how do you say ___ ?
I'm tired
I'm hungry
glass
plate
spoon/fork/knife
shut up
what time is it?
cheese
sugar
butter
potatoe
I only speak a little Croatian.
I'm sorry, I don't understand.
One loaf of white bread please.
Good night
Good morning
Things I can't yet say:
Wow! That's a horrible outfit!
How much will it cost to get that visa by tomorrow?
I'm sorry officer, I thought the tram was free.
I'd like to have some pudding and take a bubble bath now.
When is it time for more cake?
What do you mean I've had enough?
Why do I have to get up now? It's only 10:00.
The gym is that way.
Sretna Nova Godina or Happy New Year or A Wake Up Call
I’ve never understood what the big deal is about New Year’s Eve. I like the idea of a fresh start, a promise of a clean slate to fill with a better year, but I just don’t get the hype and the expectation of the party to end all parties. I’m not trying to be a pessimist, but personally I’d prefer the company of a few close friends in the comfort of my own home to some huge blow out party any day.
Since I’ve been in Croatia, my attitude has pretty much been to just go with the flow. This isn’t too far off from the norm for me, but the point is that when a friend, A, suggested we go to the party that a bar he likes was throwing for New Year’s Eve, I said sure. To be honest I had no expectations. As I said I don’t really understand the New Year hype so I choose not to expect much so I won’t be disappointed (famous last words).
Around 9:30 after about 45 minutes of outfit drama H and I headed out into the cold rain. We met up with A and a few others at his place and had a little champagne and cake. The night seemed to be off to a nice start. So the 5 of us headed out to pick up a few more friends and then headed to the bar a little before 11:00.
Within five minutes of stepping through the door all I could think was, “Okay, how long am I going to have to stay here before I won’t look like a totally uptight no-fun party pooper when I leave?” Now, this place actually seemed like it would have been a pretty cool bar/restaurant/lounge to hang out in on a normal night, but this night was not a normal night. It was NEW YEAR’S EVE! The place was packed wall to wall. The coat room was full by the time we got there so we had to carry our coats around. The little bits of space left between the hundreds of men in polyester suits and women in stilettos and sequined tops were totally filled with thick smoke. After the initial freak out in my brain and the crowd claustrophobia that’s hard to avoid when 95% of the room is taller than you, I tried to set my mind to having fun anyway, but my heart just wasn’t in it.
There was the occasional R-E-S-P-E-C-T or Proud Mary or 3 year old J-Lo hit that got me going on the dance floor, but as soon as midnight hit the DJ switched over to Croatian rock. An hour after that rock had turned to folk and I reached my limit. The smoke was burning my eyes, the people were getting drunker and pushier by the minute, the floor was getting covered in broken glass and everyone was screaming all of the lyrics to their favorite 10 year old Croatian hits. I kept insisting that we should stay and that H should have fun and not worry about me, but my protests wore thin pretty quickly and we decided it was time to go since I was not only raining on my parade but his as well.
As we headed for our coats, we were stopped by an old neighbor of H’s who introduced us to his American friend. All of a sudden I started having fun. She was friendly and fun and spoke good Croatian but seemed glad to speak a little American. Since we were on our way out anyway, we didn’t end up staying to chat for that long, but I felt like I could have stayed another hour or two just chatting and comparing notes on the life of a 20 something American in Croatia, living with a Croatian.
Without realizing it, I had turned into the kind of American who just wants to be around other Americans so they can compare every detail of the new culture to the one they know and complain about every little inconvenience that has popped up along the way. To be honest, I know in my heart that that’s not who I am. Of course, I am constantly comparing America to Croatia but find me someone who doesn’t try to draw parallels between what they know and what they are discovering. It’s human nature. The thing that caught me off guard was how much I craved interaction with someone who really knows exactly what I’m going through. I know plenty of people who have lived in other countries, people who have struggled with foreign relatives, foreign languages, and foreign cultures. What I don’t know is anyone here and now who knows what it’s like to grow up in America, marry someone Croatian and move to Croatia.
So far I’ve been saying that everything is going really well. I’m enjoying Croatia. I’m enjoying exploring Zagreb and Croatian culture. I’m enjoying getting to know friends and family here better. I’m enjoying not working and spending time with H. All of those things are still true, and on the whole I’m happy here or at least content. But meeting that one American right when I was at the end of my rope with Croatian music, and smoke, people pushing past me saying excuse me in a foreign language, made me realize how deep down a part of me really does feel alone here and isolated.
Somehow I had convinced myself that I was great at embracing all of the challenges a foreign country had to offer. After all I still consider my last stint in a foreign country as one of the most wonderful, life changing, enlightening times in my life. What I’m learning is that I’m not that strong by default. I don’t throw myself into new things. I’m cautious, tentative even. I’m introverted and I lack an essential type of self confidence that would allow me to just plow through and go out and get what I want and say stupid things to strangers and get lost and be forced to find my way home. So I’ve decided, this is no way to go about my life here whether I like it or not. I’m not going to beat myself up over the pitfalls of the first month. It’s taken me a month to get all of this straightened out and that’s okay with me. But this is where it ends. I’m sure I will have relapses from time to time, and words are always easier than actions, but on the whole I’m not going to let these shortcomings hang me up. There’s no way to change these things about myself and find people to compare notes with and have fun with, without plowing into life here head first. I can either sit here everyday and just be content or I can go out and make mistakes and make friends and learn from my blunders and feel exhilarated by my successes. This year my New Year’s resolution isn’t so much a resolution but instead a mantra: NO FEAR. NO FEAR. NO FEAR.
