Before continuing, perhaps I should expand a little on the inglorious outfit that offered said immersion programs. A cursory visit to their website certainly gives the impression that the company is a market leader in immersion courses. “More than English,” their motto breezes, “business communication”. An animated Flash intro to their site uses punchy buzzwords, such as “Global Business Adaptation” and “Executive Education”, enough to give any visitor the urge to slip into a sharp suit and find somebody with whom to start negotiating. Unfortunately, it is the customary hands-down (to hyphenate or not to hyphenate...?) victory of style over substance. Anyone can think up clever slogans. Delivering a product that actually teaches people English efficiently is the real challenge, and to them this, their rightful responsibility, was regarded as a mere distraction, as I and my browbeaten colleagues discovered to our mental torment.
The timetable was punishing. Classes started at eight in the morning, stopped for a break at ten thirty, then continued until a one o’clock lunch, during which we were obliged to make small talk with the students to recreate some kind of spurious “business lunch” experience. That made a total of five hours conatct time with the same student. I don’t think I’ve ever talked to anybody in my life for five hours non-stop without the involvement of strong liquor - not my wife, not my best friend, not even the current subject of my lascivious attentions when I was single. Human beings aren’t built that way, at least British male human beings aren’t. At two we were back in class with another student until four thirty, then after a short break we continued with the same person until seven, nervous breakdown notwithstanding. I remember looking at my watch at sunset, wondering how many minutes I had left to kill, only for it to dawn on me that it was only five o’clock, and that there were fully two more hours to endure. At that point I lost all feeling in my legs.
As if this weren’t enough, we were then expected to wolf down dinner and face a further four hours of “Integrated Activities”, listening to songs, singing karaoke, playing board games and the like, all whilst “fantasising about a life that doesn't so closely resemble Hell,” to paraphrase Kevin Spacey’s resplendent character, Lester Burnham, in American Beauty. Around midnight we’d lurch to our hotel room and start preparing for the next day’s classes. For me, a native speaker, it was a swift read-through. For the Brazilian teachers it was a painstaking and tedious procedure, as there was always the odd unfamiliar word or expression inserting a wrench in the machinery. Then we were up at six for a shower and breakfast before the whole creaking treadmill spluttered into life again.
I’ve never broken down in class before, but I swear the nearest I ever came to blubbing uncontrollably was whilst struggling hopelessly to deliver, “More than English – business communication.”
Part Three to follow shortly...
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