Notes from the TEFL Graveyard

Wistful reflections, petty glories.

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Location: The House of Usher, Brazil

I'm a flailing TEFL teacher who entered the profession over a decade ago to kill some time whilst I tried to find out what I really wanted to do. I like trying to write comedy (I once got to the semi-finals of a BBC Talent competition, ironically writing a sitcom based on TEFL), whilst trying to conquer genetically inherited procrastination... I am now based in Brazil, where I live with my wife and two chins.

Wednesday 28 May 2008

DZIĘKUJĘ POLSKA!

We return triumphant.

After what has to be one of the most amazing foreign trips of my TEFL-riddled lifetime, I am now safely back in small-town Brazil, weak limbed with jet lag, but with several songs on my brain, several Poles in my heart, and a sharp aftertaste of Żubrówka in my throat.

It was an often tearful tour, such as when we arrived at our bed and breakfast establishment on the first night exhausted from our 14-hour journey and mustered what strength we had to sing a song for our hosts. Amid open weeping, I have to admit the emotion-charged atmosphere brought a tear to my eye, but that could have been due to the fact that I'd been supressing a bowel movement for the previous twenty-something hours.

Another highlight was singing Lauridsen's O Magnum Mysterium in a room at Malbork Castle where choirs have been performing since the fifteenth century, but what will mark me always is the reception we received from our Polish counterparts, who were the most gracious of hosts and made sure we wanted for nothing throughout our stay in their country. As I predicted in my pre-match post, our choir won over the locals with its charisma, positive energy and sense of fun, even if, as the only amateur choir performing amongst professional and university ensembles, we were a little way behind in technical terms. Having said that, we were awarded a bronze diploma in each of the three categories in which we competed in the festival, no mean feat for our first attempt in any kind of contest.

Also, I don't think I've ever laughed so much in my life, as the natural playfulness and lack of alcohol-fuelled aggression of the Brazilian is a delight to partake of, and is certainly contagious for those with whom they come into contact.

I also expect to gain a number of new private students for English classes, especially one of our troupe, who went white after a scorching Czech girl from another choir whispered a husky, "Let's go" to him at the end of festival party. "No! No!" he replied, thinking she was informing him that she was going home, which she in turn understood as a rejection of her saucy advances, and rightly stormed off. He spent the rest of the evening searching for her amongst 800 frumpy choristers, but, sadly for him, the curtain had already fallen.

Congratulations have to go to the University of the Philippines Singing Ambassadors Choir, who deservedly won every category in the festival and the prize for Best Choir. We really are not worthy.




5 Comments:

Blogger Gadjo Dilo said...

Great that you are back, Wardy, and that you had such a good time. I'm envious - it does sound like a fun trip. I'm sure that resisting the advances of scorching Czech girls is only something to be done intentionally when you've passed the age of 90 and have a heart condition :-)

29 May 2008 at 02:32  
Blogger M C Ward said...

Thanks, GD. Did the train break down in the end?

29 May 2008 at 09:04  
Blogger Gadjo Dilo said...

No, Romanian trains never break down; they're carved out of solid blocks of cast iron and they run on farmyard manure - they're unstoppable! I've never tried the over-nighter to Krakow (for which I would have change in Hungary, and help with pushing it up the Tatra Mountains at 3 in the morning); Instead I contented myself with going every day to my new job :-(

30 May 2008 at 02:16  
Blogger Well-lighted Shadows said...

How does one become part of Brazilian choir? Really, quite a hobby sir!

30 May 2008 at 06:51  
Blogger M C Ward said...

Brazilian choirs will take anyone with the stink of cachaça on their breath and a willingness to be pleasant and funloving to a professional standard.

My application is thus still pending.

Seriously though, it's the Welsh in me.

30 May 2008 at 12:06  

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