The End

At the time of your reading this and me posting this, my time as a teacher of English in Moldova is officially done. All the grades are in, all the lessons have been taught, and we even had a ceremony today (May 30th) that officially ended it all. I'll spend the next few hundred words explaining just what that means to me.

In a way, I can't believe it. It's over. The concept of me being done is one that I'm still trying to wrap my head around. I think it really hit me last Friday when one of my kids was talking to me and made a grammar mistake and my 'teacher' instinct kicked in and I was thinking how I was going to have to review the word order for Past-Tense Conditional when it hit me – there is no next lesson. Ever. Everything these kids will ever learn from me has been taught. And it's amazing, both in a good and bad way.

I'll start with the bad so I can end on a good note. The mentality of my school is one that isn't necessarily supportive of learning English – of my kids, I can say that seventy percent have nothing more than a rudimentary interest in learning English, with certain classes having zero interest in the language. My eighth graders, for example, did basically nothing during my two years (in fact, my one regret from my second year is that I didn't tell my director on day one that I wouldn't teach them). In fact, last Thursday when I gave them their grades I went on to tell them how we were supposed to have two lessons this week but they had already wasted two years of my life and I wouldn't let them waste another hour and a half (that's a direct quote). Something last summer happened with my seventh graders, because in our first year they were great and always worked and I honestly couldn't wait to start working with them again this year; however, after our third week it was clear that something had changed, that all of their interest was gone and that it was going to be a trying year. I can't tell you how many kids, from many classes, showed up everyday without a pen, a notebook, or a textbook. I had one student in fifth grade who I told to write 100 words – in Russian – explaining why he didn't work and told him that he would basically receive a D- for every lesson until I had the work in my hands. How long did he take to write it? Six weeks. That level of stubbornness/disrespect/disinterest is something which I had to battle with on a daily basis for two years. My feelings would swing like a pendulum, with hurt on one side, anger on the other, and indifference in the middle. Thankfully, those time are over.

On a positive note, there are some kids in some classes that I absolutely, totally adore. My sixth graders, for example, are amazing. I would work with those kids for six hours a day, every day, if given the chance. They showed up everyday ready to work and when I taught new grammar or words it was clear at the next lesson that they had gone home and learned them. I went out of my way yesterday to thank them for everything they've done in our one year together to make my job that much easier. My top fifth graders (the best three – I can't talk about the whole class) are incredible. When I think of how much they knew on our first day of class compared with their level now . . . it's remarkable. A few weeks ago they had to translate a text about a hedgehog under a bed – the text was probably 200 words – and they not only translated it but translated it so quickly that I was stunned. They can listen to a conversation I can have with any of my American friends and if we speak slowly enough, follow along. My fourth graders are so warm; no matter how bad a day I had they could inevitably say or do something in the first minutes of our lesson that brightened my mood – I genuinely looked forward to our time together. And my ninth graders (again, the top four) are really, really good. I can't believe how much they've grown mentally and physically in the last two years. And their English is really solid, at least compared to what it was then they walked in my door of September, 2006. Sometimes they would give me homework and I would be genuinely surprised by the quality of what I received. About once a week I would say some obscure word in English (like 'scar') and one of them would already know the answer.

I think the biggest challenge facing me in my last two months here will be simply a change in identity. From the moment I touched down here on June 6th, 2006, my identity has been that of an English teacher; when asked to describe what I do here, I could always answer in the present tense, “I teach English.” I could aways say, “I am an English teacher.” Now, for the next two months, everything switches to the past tense, “I taught English”, “I was an English teacher.” It will be an odd transition to make.

Notes:
- There are moments that, despite living in this country for almost two years, still surprise me, still catch me off-guard. Case in point: last Saturday night there was a group of walking around Chisinau when we stumbled on a free concert in the center, where a popular Russian band named Tokio was playing. There were literally thousands of people there listening and we had no idea, before getting close, that anything like that was going on.

Then, while listening to the concert, we wanted some beer so we went to a store in the center that we know to be open twenty-four hours a day. We got there and while the store itself was open, the doors were closed and there was a guard standing there, not letting anyone; apparently the place was too full. But rather than do the logical thing – when two people leave, two people are let in, and so forth – he let the line build and build while people left and left and then finally, he opened the doors and there was a mad rush in. Strange.

- My plans for the summer couldn't possible be any more open. I have no idea what I'll do – there are some dates where I have to be certain places for certain reasons but other than that, I'm free to do what I want. I'll probably be in my village 1/3 of the time, in Chisinau 1/3 of the time, and I'm planning on visiting friends – that'll take up another 1/3 of my time.

- I've got a new cell-phone number: 011-373-687-86-283. Feel free to call at any time . . .

- I'll end by describing what happened on Thursday with my sixth graders when, in an attempt thank them, I brought them to the local store so I could buy them ice-cream. Of course, I didn't tell them in advance of the plan but instead, as soon as they sat down, I grabbed my keys and told them to follow me. They were a little surprised and kept asking me where we were going – I kept saying, “somewhere.” Finally, though, we arrived and I told them to go inside and pick out their favorite ice-cream. They, however, were far too sheepish. They yelled at each-other to go because everyone was too scared to be the first. I finally got tired of waiting and just went in, bought something, and gave it out, telling them that I had already spend the money so they should eat it.

They smiled to each-other, thanked me, and immediately devoured the ice-cream. I figured it was the least I could do for them considering all that they've done for me.