End of the year, exams and evaluations and such, but also more relaxed in some ways. We're here at the end, not a whole lot that can really be done in the time we have, and for a few of my groups, we've finished the books (read: I skipped the last few terminally boring reading and listening exercises. And I do mean terminal; you literally feel your pulse slowing down and your brain begins to enter a comatose state and they finish just when you notice a bright light that hadn't been there before), so we get to have some fun.
One of my favorite games is based on Balderdash, a variation of which is played on the most excellent radio program, Says You! I divide the class into teams of two or three, give each team a dictionary, tell them to choose five words they think nobody knows and write two definitions in their own words: one false and one true. When everyone is done, they take turns reading their words and definitions, and the other teams try to decide which one is true. There are several reasons why I like this game: one, they get to learn some interesting and random vocabulary that might not come up in a regular lesson (a sample of some of their choices: scampi, twit, vest, wiggle, niggle, plank, germ, amalgamate, arid); two, it's a creative exercise, thinking of plausible definitions and writing them convincingly in English; and three, they really have to think about the words, how they sound, how they are constructed, how they relate to their meanings. I love wordplay myself, and English is a great language for it.
Some of the definitions were just wonderful, and demonstrated real thought and consideration. Here's a few, as written by my students, unedited:
gulp: 1. drink without stop. 2. water dripping from the roof. (Going with the onomatopoeia)
backlog: 1. something you didn't do but you had to 2. escape from the program. (Just great, relating the word to the phrasal verb "log in")
creak: 1. the noise cosed (sic) by old furniture. 2. the narrow small river (I especially love this for its deviousness, using the definition of the homonym).
silt: 1. an animal covered with silver skin spending most of his life on the bottom of river. 2. sand or mud which remains after river flows slowly.
armpit: 1. the opening in a piece of clothing where your arm goes through. 2. the part of the body under the arm at the point where it joins the shoulder.
A few words garnered clean sweeps, fooling everybody. One was ascent, defined as "climb on the rock" and "confirmation which you get from the post office." Another was merry, which surprised me. After all, this was a fairly advanced group, who should all know "Merry Christmas." Yet, the definition that took them all in was, "it's a kind of drink made from beer and juice and whisky, and it's served in Italy." While you have to admire the creativity of the writers, it does maybe reflect poorly on me as a teacher that the rest of the class believed it. Nevertheless, we all had a good time, and that's the important part.
Friday, June 15, 2007
Friday, June 8, 2007
Past Party-ciple
Profi-Lingua has annual end-of-the-year parties, although not actually at the end of the year, but the week before our exams start, during the time high schools and universities have their exams, and generally during the week, so despite fairly high enrollment, the parties are relatively sparsely attended. Between the two schools I teach at, in Sosnowiec and Katowice, I have somewhere around 130 students. While about 30 or 40 of those are underage teenagers, that still leaves close to 100 who could attend, and of those, I saw maybe 15 this week between the two parties. Nevertheless, they are fun, and a nice event to have. I do try to meet some of the older groups outside of class during the year, but this is a good time to do so.
The Sosnowiec party (on Monday, for crying out loud) was pleasant, actually almost intimate, given the number of people there. I got to see some of my former students from last year, though none of them, current or former, would participate in the little competitions they had (translating a word and using it in a sentence, saying something nice about Profi, etc. Not really competitions, as everyone who participated got a prize.), but I had great conversations.
But I really had a good time at the Katowice party. A beautiful, late spring evening, and although a Wednesday, Thursday was a holiday (Corpus Christi) so people were out and about, gathered at the tables on the patelnia or bunched in noisy groups along the street. Walking to the bus stop I ran into three of my students, one of whom, Pawel, tipped me off that it was better to take a tram to the club than the bus, for which I will be eternally grateful. I go to Katowice several times a week, and always take a bus, as they are faster, and in the case of the private line "D" bus, significantly cheaper, but this club, Poziom3, was in a part of Katowice I hadn't been to before and my plan was to take a bus as close as I could get and figure the rest out after. However, for those in the know, tram no. 15 went almost right to the door, and left Sosnowiec from the same place as the bus. Who knew?
And it was that tram ride that was almost the best part of the night. The bus routes run on the freeway between the two cities, past strip malls, chain stores, gas stations, McDonald's, car dealerships, etc., typical urban detritus, washed up by tides of zoning, taxes, and convenience. Not the most picturesque trip I've ever taken. But the tram route winds through leafy residential streets as it leaves Sosnowiec, and three stops from the center passes a lovely little lake, over which the sunset was throwing soft, pale reds. I didn't even know the lake was there, and it was just so beautiful and unexpected, it made the successive industrial parks we passed through much more bearable.
Of course, I didn't know where I was going, or what my destination looked like, or exactly how long it would take, so I was a little nervous. I'd counted the stops on the schedule at the stop, 14, and Pawel had told me the name of the stop, Akademia Ekonomiczna (someone Polish correct my spelling, please), but it's actually rather difficult to count that many stops. Up to three or four is ok, but then you start second-guessing yourself: did I count that last one? was that 8 or 9? did I miss one, thinking it was a stoplight instead? But it was all good as the one and only stop that had a sign was, yes, Akademia Ekonomiczna. This is a rare event in Poland.
The club itself was fairly big, several floors, booths and tables, dance floor, but the best part was the back patio, which has its own little tiki bar, with sand piled up around the edges and possibly-fake potted palms embedded in it. This is where I spent the majority of the evening, talking mostly with my fellow teachers and my own students who had turned up, but trying my Polish on some of the German students, shying away from the Spanish native speaker (I'd picked up a lot in Spain, but not enough for actual conversation), regretfully refusing to dance (I'd reaggravated my lower back problem a few days before, which no one actually believed, but oh well.). Late in the night, or early in the morning, after having some sort of religious discussion with one teacher, and having another yelling wetly in my face about some basketball achievement (LeBron James in the NBA playoffs, a performance I'd heard about, but after a few minutes I could no longer tell if he was still (literally) gushing about him or M.J.), I slipped out, very happy, instantly caught the night bus, found an open take-out hamburger place in Sosnowiec, and crashed out contentedly around 4 a.m. But it was that unexpected lake and glorious sunset that I think about now, and I plan to spend some part of my summer taking random buses and trams to see where I end up. So, thanks again, Pawel. I appreciate the tip.
The Sosnowiec party (on Monday, for crying out loud) was pleasant, actually almost intimate, given the number of people there. I got to see some of my former students from last year, though none of them, current or former, would participate in the little competitions they had (translating a word and using it in a sentence, saying something nice about Profi, etc. Not really competitions, as everyone who participated got a prize.), but I had great conversations.
But I really had a good time at the Katowice party. A beautiful, late spring evening, and although a Wednesday, Thursday was a holiday (Corpus Christi) so people were out and about, gathered at the tables on the patelnia or bunched in noisy groups along the street. Walking to the bus stop I ran into three of my students, one of whom, Pawel, tipped me off that it was better to take a tram to the club than the bus, for which I will be eternally grateful. I go to Katowice several times a week, and always take a bus, as they are faster, and in the case of the private line "D" bus, significantly cheaper, but this club, Poziom3, was in a part of Katowice I hadn't been to before and my plan was to take a bus as close as I could get and figure the rest out after. However, for those in the know, tram no. 15 went almost right to the door, and left Sosnowiec from the same place as the bus. Who knew?
And it was that tram ride that was almost the best part of the night. The bus routes run on the freeway between the two cities, past strip malls, chain stores, gas stations, McDonald's, car dealerships, etc., typical urban detritus, washed up by tides of zoning, taxes, and convenience. Not the most picturesque trip I've ever taken. But the tram route winds through leafy residential streets as it leaves Sosnowiec, and three stops from the center passes a lovely little lake, over which the sunset was throwing soft, pale reds. I didn't even know the lake was there, and it was just so beautiful and unexpected, it made the successive industrial parks we passed through much more bearable.
Of course, I didn't know where I was going, or what my destination looked like, or exactly how long it would take, so I was a little nervous. I'd counted the stops on the schedule at the stop, 14, and Pawel had told me the name of the stop, Akademia Ekonomiczna (someone Polish correct my spelling, please), but it's actually rather difficult to count that many stops. Up to three or four is ok, but then you start second-guessing yourself: did I count that last one? was that 8 or 9? did I miss one, thinking it was a stoplight instead? But it was all good as the one and only stop that had a sign was, yes, Akademia Ekonomiczna. This is a rare event in Poland.
The club itself was fairly big, several floors, booths and tables, dance floor, but the best part was the back patio, which has its own little tiki bar, with sand piled up around the edges and possibly-fake potted palms embedded in it. This is where I spent the majority of the evening, talking mostly with my fellow teachers and my own students who had turned up, but trying my Polish on some of the German students, shying away from the Spanish native speaker (I'd picked up a lot in Spain, but not enough for actual conversation), regretfully refusing to dance (I'd reaggravated my lower back problem a few days before, which no one actually believed, but oh well.). Late in the night, or early in the morning, after having some sort of religious discussion with one teacher, and having another yelling wetly in my face about some basketball achievement (LeBron James in the NBA playoffs, a performance I'd heard about, but after a few minutes I could no longer tell if he was still (literally) gushing about him or M.J.), I slipped out, very happy, instantly caught the night bus, found an open take-out hamburger place in Sosnowiec, and crashed out contentedly around 4 a.m. But it was that unexpected lake and glorious sunset that I think about now, and I plan to spend some part of my summer taking random buses and trams to see where I end up. So, thanks again, Pawel. I appreciate the tip.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Impending summer
Ah, June. School is coming to a close, the air is warm and soft, teenagers get especially restless, and anticipation is mixed with dread as exams loom on the calendar. I remember this feeling so well from my time as a student, and it's a bit odd to be back inside it as a teacher. Exams for me now are not something to worry about, but something to administer (though there is a touch of dread, as I do the speaking exams, and it can be somewhat tedious to sit and listen for hours every day and maintain interest. Nevertheless, if any of my students do read this, I am paying attention, I swear.), my hormone levels settled down a while ago, and summer is not the unrestrained freedom it used to be.
But there is that sense of ending, mingled relief and regret, bittersweet and delicious. I will have more time to myself this summer, to do some traveling, but I will miss many of my students, and while I may see some next year, there's no guarantee. The pubs and cafes have put tables outside again, so I can sit in the sun with a coffee or beer, one of the things I most enjoy about Europe, but my friend and conversational companion, Patrick, is returning to the US in a few weeks, so who will I sit with? Back home, my family is celebrating a wedding and saying goodbye to my grandfather. Politically the primaries are moving into high gear and Bush is making farewell gestures already.
Nonetheless, I will think about the good stuff. Like wearing my Hawaiian shirts in appropriate weather again. (I wear them all through the winter, but I get more looks then.) Sandals, instead of boots or shoes. Open windows and late sunsets. Summer thunderstorms and hot, lazy Sunday afternoons. The near-weightless feeling of my bag without textbooks and photocopied exercises. Adventures to be had, history to be discovered, new friends to make. It's a good month, June.
But there is that sense of ending, mingled relief and regret, bittersweet and delicious. I will have more time to myself this summer, to do some traveling, but I will miss many of my students, and while I may see some next year, there's no guarantee. The pubs and cafes have put tables outside again, so I can sit in the sun with a coffee or beer, one of the things I most enjoy about Europe, but my friend and conversational companion, Patrick, is returning to the US in a few weeks, so who will I sit with? Back home, my family is celebrating a wedding and saying goodbye to my grandfather. Politically the primaries are moving into high gear and Bush is making farewell gestures already.
Nonetheless, I will think about the good stuff. Like wearing my Hawaiian shirts in appropriate weather again. (I wear them all through the winter, but I get more looks then.) Sandals, instead of boots or shoes. Open windows and late sunsets. Summer thunderstorms and hot, lazy Sunday afternoons. The near-weightless feeling of my bag without textbooks and photocopied exercises. Adventures to be had, history to be discovered, new friends to make. It's a good month, June.
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