Save the Best for Last

(In which I got something good from her.)

***

My Facebook wall got flooded by numerous status messages saying their good bye’s and thank you’s to a teacher who’s leaving yesterday. That day wasn’t really a good day since Alvin wasn’t always available for chatting because of a meeting; I was given 24 students to teach for the last seven hours of that hard day’s work and I was even handed a level up test form to fill. I scanned the schedule over and over, checking for possible time to breathe and eat and do my stuff only to find several ten-minute breaks distributed separately.

The day went on as usual – me multitasking and my students giving me either their best or worst performances. But what I really love the most was the continuous ringing followed by an operator saying an alien language which means no one’s picking up and I have to try again later.

After being exhausted from talking to one student to another and trying to maintain the same energy level as the first time I answered the phone, I was thankful to dial the final student’s number for this evening only to be more thankful.

The person on the other line’s voice was very welcoming and warm. And did I mention he has a good accent? When I say he has a good accent, I mean he is trying, albeit effortlessly, not to sound in his first language. And he converses! This is the type of student with whom you’ll feel that ten minutes is indeed short.

I bet he’s cute personally, his voice tells me. And he’s so suave I swear I could already imagine what a heartthrob he must be. After the class, I approached his former teacher, hugged her and said my good bye. I also told her about my new student.

“He told me you used to be his teacher.”

Her eyebrows crossed out of cluelessness. I tried to remember his full name but was only successful in recalling his last, which is the most common surname in their country. She saved me from even more painful trying and shouted his name.

“Yes! He’s the one!” I shouted back.

All my thoughts about the 22-year-old student were almost confirmed as she faked fainting and fanned herself with her hand. She then said I’m lucky in a manner people speak during the Spanish regime.

So I am lucky. Well, I deserved some consolations after this hard day.

English Please...

(In which weird situations came in a row.)

***

I woke up at about 4:30. It was earlier than my usual wake up time which is 9 or 10 in the morning. But I needed to wake up earlier than usual because I have to get to the University of the Red Warriors before my scheduled time for taking the entrance examination for Graduate School which is 8:30. I took the bus and leaned my head against the window, hoping to get some sleep. But thanks to the television, I could hardly keep my eyes closed for two minutes.

So I took the exam. I was actually surprised that the math part wasn’t as difficult as I expected it to be. For the first time, I considered it the easiest. We were just made to solve numerical problems using three of the fundamental operations (addition, subtraction and multiplication). But the thing is, you only have eight minutes to answer all those. The English part and the General Reasoning part were especially difficult. I wonder what score I got.

The examiner didn’t tell us that there would be another exam after that. Just as I thought I could head for the office, he told me to go the Graduate School building to have my official receipt stamped or something as a proof that I have finished taking the exam.

As soon as I found the person the examiner told me to look for, I handed her my receipt and she said, “It’s yours.”

“Ugh! Yes, I know,” I thought.

“You won’t be stamping or signing it?” I asked.

“No.”

Okay, then why did that guy tell me to come here?

“You were finished taking the exam, right?” she asked; to which I relied with a plain “yes”. She handed me a paper and said “Answer this in the next room.”

I scanned the paper. It’s an essay test. Bu this wasn’t what that guy told me to come here for! Anyway, I went to the next room and started answering. The questions were the type that I expected. You know, your purpose for studying and why you chose their university. But question number two had me dumbfounded.

What do you see is the difference between a graduate education and an undergraduate education when pursuing a Master’s degree?

Say what?! I didn’t get it. Seriously. So I just answered why it is important to have a Master’s degree. Hey, how am I supposed to answer that?

After I finished the essay I felt so tired and sleepy that I walked very slowly in fear of slipping or tripping. The school’s got very slippery tiles. Walking slowly, I took my time to notice signs all over the campus that says “Speak in English only” and “Speak English and talk to the world” which reminds me of “Speak English Get a job.” and “Speak English. Go global.” signs in my previous university.

I was walking slowly and a couple of pretty girls walked from behind me. They are speaking in English. Hmmm. They are obviously reading. (I wonder now why they didn’t use English for essay question number 2.) My heart swelled with admiration to know that students are actually supporting their school’s campaign. “I wish all collegiate students are like them.” I thought as I hear them doing their best to sound American. I wasn’t able to understand what they are talking about but I was able to hear what one of them said before they can completely walk past me.

“What? He don’t hire?” [sic]