I was pleased to have passed Assignment 3 first time and was keen to maintain the upward curve with my TP lessons.
We, the class, had discussed what we might do on Friday the last and final day of our course.
It was suggested that we go for a meal and a few drinks after.
In the fourth and final week of CELTA I taught my last two hours of TP.
So, the pressure was on.
I was keen to make an impression and leave on a high (as much for my own gratification and self-esteem!).
My 'th' problems persisted but I was improving (and I still am!).
I was feeling the fatigue this week but finally there was light at the end of the tunnel and we were pretty confident that it was not the light of an oncoming train to flatten us and any vestiges of hope. We were almost ripe for the real world.
I had a short grammar lesson on Tuesday. Admittedly I struggled a little but thankfully some of the students were able to navigate my labyrinthine explanations and enlightened the other students regarding the obscure grammatical of English (when to use -ed and -ing).
These were the days were we made our last excursions to Londis for the infamous chicken baguettes and lo-and behold (John) we did not succumb to rickets. CELTA be praised!
I met with one of my old war buddies, Karl, from my MA class on Tuesday and we went to the Woolshed for some grub and a catch-up. Twas a positive experience and although we were almost out the door once we found ourselves turning around and partaking in more conversation. Karl convinced me (well, one of the many convincers) to attend my MA graduation.
The next day I was a little tired. I got up hastily threw a breakfast together and dashed for the train only to find it had been delayed. Normally, I believe this would have left me unperturbed but because I was feeling a little guilty I called up CELTA and apologised for iarnroid eireann's shortcomings...
This was acceptable.
Copious mugs of tea later I was feeling re-invigorated.
It was Wednesday and our month long test of endurance was almost at an end. We had lost no more troops, day one was the only time we witnessed any casualties.
We heard many wonderful stories of students throwing down their CELTA 5, books by Parrot and Swan and simply walking out of the room and out of the building without so much as a glance behind. This dramatic gesture was made all the more ridiculous by the fact that one gent even left his coat behind.
I reckon he got as far as the street before blushing.
No possessing any special ninja skills his only other option was to either endure humiliation or buy a new coat.
Sounds like he chose the latter.
Apart from the set back with trains Wednesday proved uneventful.
Thursday was my last day of TP.
I had the best intentions of playing various game and doing so many wonderful things leaving my students enlightened and energised. It didn't go quite like that but I believe it went very well!
I taught a vocabulary lesson and it involved household items.
My old enemy 'th' made an appearance in the form of 'needle and thread'.
After wrestled with my tongue for a number of seconds and trying to savagly bite it into submission I realised that one of the students, Jaime, had mastered the art of 'th' so I immediately encouraged him to speak louder and proceeded to 'spread the knowledge' drilling the class.
One of the most bizarre occurrences in the class was when the students insisted I teach them the meaning of 'okey-dokey'. A slip of the tongue on my part but they were fascinated by the expression. Little did I envisage the ripples it would have...
After drawing, miming and dancing I conveyed the meaning of each piece of vocabulary and shortly thereafter the lesson was over. Time was up.
I left elated.
The burden of CELTA lifted and as I swaggered to my seat at the back of the classroom one student even took the time to commend me on my lesson.
'That was a great lesson.'
I am not sure how sincere he was but I was willing to graciously accept all compliments.
The tutor agreed I was much more comfortable in that TP.
We had one more lesson to prepare but it was to be unobserved.
That evening my classmate, Peter, and I went next door to enjoy a few winding down drinks. We discussed the month we had almost completed, the people we had met and the friends we had made. We chatted for many hours before we agreed that we had best go our own way. We had discussed war and women in adequate detail.
On Friday we had our last hours with the class. There was a cocktail party and a board game among other activities. At about 10 o'clock we went upstairs to present the students with a certificate and dip into the buffet food. There was plenty of tea to enjoy and a few doughnuts. We took some photos and it seems the Spanish students opted for 'okey-dokey' rather than the traditional 'cheese.' It's nice to leave a lasting impression!
We made provisional arrangements and agreed to meet the class later in the evening when we would head out and hit Dublin city with a ferocious coiled fist that could only have come from 4 intense weeks of study. Caged animals we were and now we were being re-released into the wild.
We pondered briefly what post-CELTA trauma might be like and where we would all end up within the next few weeks and months.
We went next door for some dinner and drinks.
Afterwards, we lost some of our group who had to such rudimentary things as change their clothing and power nap.
And then there were men.
The lads wandered around aimlessly (as they tend to do without women to guide them) and eventually we decided on the Pav. So, in our little mob we walked up to Trinity and sat down on the grass to pontificate and philosophize.
There we stayed until 9 o'clock before we decided to move to our agreed rendezvous point by the Spire.
We met with some of our classmates and students and proceeded toward Messrs Maguire to continue the conversations we had been kindling.
We lost a few of our troops shortly after the first hurdle but many of us persevered.
It was suggested we reconvene at Hogans and so we set off.
Sadly, we were separated from the herd but Imelda, her sister Joanne and myself pushed on through the crowds of Templebar and with much ado we reached our destination.
We met our troops within the premises sometime later and were collectively relieved to find they had not deserted us.
We talked on; deliberating and liberating minds. We watched the taxis roll in and pundits fall in.
Our month long tour of the English language was almost at an end. We delayed for as long as we could but it was time to return to our 'normal' lives.
We vowed to keep in touch.
Time will tell where the winds will scatter us.
Austria, Peru, France, Spain, China. . .
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