Skip to main content

DON'T CALL US - WE'LL STALL YOU

Should you ever apply for a job in Brazil, or have any contact with enterprises with more than a couple of employees, learn to take with a large, high-blood-pressure-inducing pinch of salt their promises to call you. There’s no need to wait up anxiously by the phone, or rush out to buy a mobile in case they call when you’re out. When they say they’ll contact you, they’re just being nice - or trying to get rid of you.

I’ve just looked in my diary. On 19 June 2007 at oh nine hundred hours I went to a language school in nearby Sorocaba that I’d applied to for a teaching job, to do a test of English grammar and comprehension. This is supposed to be the school that offers the best pay and conditions available anywhere in the region. I had to sign a paper agreeing to go through the whole recruitment rigmarole, the test, followed by an interview and finally a battery of psychometric evaluations (I bet those results make interesting reading. I imagine many a mental TEFL teacher stumbles at this hurdle...) I can only assume I must have also been signing the Brazilian equivalent of the Official Secrets Act, such has been the mystery that has shrouded my dealings with this shadowy outfit.

Having breezed through the test in, I suspect, record time (if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s breezing through things in English) I was informed that my paper would be sent to São Paulo for marking, where someone, who I’m now convinced doesn’t really exist, would call me to guide me through the rest of the recruitment process.

A month on and nobody had called. Being a proactive go-getter (and observing the tightness of my long-suffering wife, Show’s, lips), I resolved to call the Director of Studies and chide her about the dark in which I was being kept. “I’ll call São Paulo and ask them to call you,” she lied efficiently, probably blacklisting me as soon as she put the phone down for having the audacity to do an Oliver Twist on her. Also, her having to phone São Paulo to ask somebody to phone me would require that two different people make two distinct long-distance calls, thus reducing exponentially my chances of receiving any adequate feedback.

But maybe I’m being impatient - that was a mere nine weeks ago. In the meantime, I’ve been developing an enchanting facial tick whilst planning to start my own business offering immersion courses for a monthly subscription equivalent to a pre-pubescent child’s pocket money – I’ll be running at a loss, but once I’ve put every other school out of business, I’ll be king of the castle, and they’ll be dirty rascals. And if anybody from the schools phones me to complain, I’ll just tell them I’ll call them back. And then I won’t. Ha ha! That’ll show ‘em...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

FOOLING WITH SCHOOLING

One of the commonest figures to be found within TEFL is the aspiring administrator. This is a teacher who, often drained by years of repetitive, poorly remunerated clowning around in the classroom, seeks a position managing other teachers, such as Director of Studies (aptly and attractively known as "Doss"), from which they can sit in an imaginary TEFL director’s chair smoking a cigar, bellowing, “CUT!” and enjoying not having to pull a linguistic rabbit out of a hat twelve times a day, five days a week. I include myself within this TEFL subgenre, although my past experiences of administration have left me with an odd yearning to get back into the classroom and be king of my own modest sandcastle. In 2005, whilst I was working in HR at a local factory, my Brazilian friend Bert and I decided to start our own school. I had recently managed to wriggle out of a honey trap I’d set for myself, when I offered to give a free English course to my colleagues in the factory’s Training a...

NO MORE A-CUSSIN'

In an effort to rid himself of the habit of using foul language at the slightest provocation , a Facebook chum recently asked for suggestions for harmless expressions he could use in front of his Gran and her bingo clique during moments of high stress, astonishment and/or extreme disappointment. I weighed in with, " Crikey! " and, " Great Scott! " Please feel free to add your suggestions, and help to make the world a tiny bit less like a trucker's stopover in Eindhoven .

TEFL ANTHEMS VOL. I

An interesting debate over at ELT World in answer to the question, Are your students learning anything? has got me all reflective. Many rock songs are claimed by religious maniacs to include subliminal messages when played backwards or by missing every sixth word or summat, but others are more easily deciphered. As TEFL anthems go, perhaps one of the most memorably haunting has to be Dave Gilmour/Roger Waters' bitterly ironic collaboration reflecting on TEFL one-to-one classes being taught abroad , Wish You Were Here : How I wish, how I wish you were here. We're just two lost souls Swimming in a fish bowl, Year after year, Running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here. As TEFL mongers we often feel like we're in a fish bowl, year after year , not least because the majority of our students exhibit the retention capacities of the goldfish. After painstakingly explaining that we use the preposition to after various verbs, the ...