Why I hate teaching english as a foreign language

Tefl Certificate

TESOL, TEFL whatever they call em. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but I always thought those qualifications was for people who imagined foreign streets were paved with gold. In other words, people would be begging them to work in their schools from Paris to Sumatra....

What I do remember about these cursed certificates was when I lived in a remote town in Greece, when I was 22. My humble job was assistant pasta maker to an aging ex soldier for the communists in the Greek civil war of the 40's. I got more acquainted with his past, as he used to wake up in the night screaming 'PARAKOLA!!', imagining he was still there, the poor sod. Anyway I digressed, but I got a Saturday job with his daughter’s school, teaching kids English. This comprised of me, sharing my then, comic collection with them, so it was hardly intellectual stuff. But I remember being allowed a brief introduction into the TEFL fraternity, in the local large town of Tripoli.

There I was astoled the sheer wonders of TEFL, the places that people have worked.... ‘ooh Vietnam’... cooed one... Oh yes and my cousin worked in Guatemala... 'How exciting', they all said, whilst sporting smug grins while they nodded in approval of one another. Then one girl asks me, 'So where did you get your TEFL?'. Now something my Dad taught me when confronted by a situation of uncertainty. Firstly admit your ignorance calmly, and then express a keen interest in the subject (whilst smiling of course). This I did with vigour too, as the peer pressure was quite high for this new boy on the block. Having explained that I knew nothing about TEFL and possessed nothing but a CSE in money management (grade 2) but was keen to learn more. A deafly silence fell in our little corner of the bar, mouths dropped even. Then a stuttering voice from one of the girls asked, 'so... how did you get the job then?', with eyes that seemed to plead, 'tell me it’s a mistake'. At this point I ordered a round, I could clearly see they needed it. I explained simply, that I had been offered it, whilst working for the owner’s father. She said, 'so you didn’t organise it from England then?', looking even more horrified, no, I said. They asked me these questions twice again, just to make sure they'd got it right. I by this time had finished my beer and quickly ordered another with a distinct feeling of the Spanish inquisition coming on. 'Are you registered with the local municipality?', they asked, no, I said. 'Ahh, you do know that is illegal, don’t you', no, I said, again. By this time I'm feeling that all the positives that should follow a negative, (ie the ignorance preceded by keen interest) were rapidly depleting. I was thinking whiskey now, but couldn’t catch the waiter’s eye. This guy then said, 'Yes, they could fine the school heavily for that', really?, I said, trying a different tact, bad idea, it only emphasised nonchalance. 'Well he can’t get registered, he hasn’t got a TEFL' one guy utters to the girl next to him. Phew I caught the waiter’s eye, 'yes' she says, 'your school is taking a big risk, they can only employ TEFL teachers you know'.

Realising I was cornered here and that they were obviously pissed off that I had got a job, without going through the necessary channels, I tried to make light of it. 'Well its only on Saturdays', I said, 'well OUR friend Richard, (DICK for short, no doubt) he's still looking for work and he has a TEFL'. This was then followed by the most ridiculous statement of all, 'You are depriving people of jobs, who've genuinely worked hard for their TEFL', said one guy with a curled lip, who insisted on drinking bottled Guinness, in a vain attempt at trying to bring a bit of England to his part of Greece.(now even I was dreaming of a good old fashioned English pub quiz) 'Yes', piped another, 'Do you know how much it costs?', well I said, (trying varying tact’s now..... Help!), 'more than this whiskey I guess', trying to humour them, not good, DOH! Even.

Anyway I'm not really sure whether I told them all to 'fuck off and die', as things were bleary by then. I did wake up in bed with a pounding hangover that I will never forget mind.... I try to avoid whiskey at all costs now. I never got invited to any more TEFL frat parties’ mind, so I guess it must have ended on a sour note. Some weeks later my boss comes into class, explaining that she has to take over, as the man from the local municipality was arriving... Hmmm....

So there you have it.... I have had the pleasure of meeting various tosspots that've possessed this qualification, all over the world from time to time, although never quite as awful as that incident. These people clearly thought they could buy themselves a ticket to jobs throughout the world, never having to demean themselves by washing dishes and serving food. They were the most sanctimonious bunch of dickwits I've ever met, with about as much adventure as an ass sat watching Tricia, whilst slurping Nescafe gold blend and smoking 20 Regal....