Chronicle #8 : English Education

Well, coming back to chronicling my teaching experience. Something that I should have finished before I came to Cambridge. Well, time constraint made it a little bit impossible. Preparation ate a lot of my time, and procrastinating consume MOST of my time. Yeah, I am a goooooood procrastinator.

It came back to July 2009. After having a very bad "breakup" with certain bitch, I got a phone call that would change my life forever. It was from the Vice chairperson of my ex-study program. She asked me whether I would be available to teach in as a part-time lecturer. Whoa, whoa, NOT AVAILABLE? Get out of here, it was all I dreamed! I shouted spontaneously, "COUNT ME IN!!!!!"

To my surprise, she asked me to handle Interpreting classes. Yep, plural! I had two classes of interpreting. I was quite surprise, since it was a subject for final year student. Am I good enough to handle that, I thought in mind. But yea, without further ado I nodded (figuratively, of course. I was on a phone call anyway). And thus begun my journey as a part-time lecturer.

My first semester brought me into three different levels. I had interpreting class for final year students, writing class for second year students, and reading class for the fresher (Wait, fresher?? Gosh, this is UK talking. xixixixi)Again, I think my arrogance was really too much. Relying on the experience of teaching in History Department, I thought it would be the same. BIG MISTAKE, dude!

Interpreting class is really exhausting, both for the lecturer and the students. Difficult for students to progress, exhausting for the lecturer to prepare the material. Engaging students' participation needed extra effort, especially during a "sleepy hours". Yeah, Interpreting class at the moment when people got really tired and sleepy. Could not say that those were my greatest success. Once again, arrogance is certainly not a good start for teaching. But, I enjoyed it.

The Writing class was nice, but in some ways it was kinda limiting. I LOVE to talk, and by love, I mean A LOOT! And I love writing. Well, it was supposed to be okay, however lecturer did not talk a lot in writing class.*jawdropping* *speechless*

But I really enjoyed the reading class. Well, dealing with freshers is always nice. They were very cooperative and eager to learn. Not to mention their obedience. The discussion went well, and I enjoyed every moment of it. Have to admit, I looked forward to going into that class every week. Err, the first mid term test made that class down a little bit, but they soon changed their strategy to learn. To my surprise, they did improve. A LOT!

Second semester came, and I got more classes. This time, I had to teach two classes of Translation and two classes of Research Paper Writing for third year student as well as a writing class for second year students. And I should say that that was the most exhausting and challenging semester ever.

Teaching Translation was not as easy as flipping your hand. It was a skill. You cannot fully learn it, you have to acquire it. The best analogy of teaching translation i like teaching art. You have to feel it, and no theory could help you fully. So difficult that I almost lost my confidence in teaching. Killer, ambitious, killer, difficult, killer, serious, killer, killer, killer. Those were things written on my forehead for the students. Lots and lots protested for my grading system, but I insist on using my standard. Unlike the reading class in the previous semester, the classes were killing me.

Unique case happened in the Research Paper Writing classes. I enjoyed teaching in one class, we even had so much fun. I felt like having the best scientific discussion ever. But the other class ditched on me. This particular class, I never know why, also saw the writing on my forehead like the translation class did.

Thank God I had the writing class for second year. They were nice, talkative, cooperative, and sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet. Those people were funny, and the important thing was, they were the one keeping my sanity in place.

Well, I had my own up and down with that. No matter how long have you been teaching, there is always new thing to learn. And every class is different, so we really need to adjust ourselves without lowering the standard.

Cambridge #1 : Day One

By the time I set my feet at Heathrow, I still couldn't believe that I reached far far away land. Everything looked the same, except the fact that most of them were caucasian. Within the airport, I didn't feel the difference to Indonesia. Hell, even when I took my train to Paddington station and saw London's landscape, it still felt like watching movie.

From Paddington, I went to King's Cross. After going through several torturing stairways (because of my overweighted luggage), I managed to get to the ticket booth. They gave me the ticket to Cambridge, and guess what? The train was leaving in five minutes from Platform 9b. Well, blame my wild imagination, but as I ran to catch my train, I imagined myself as Harry Potter running along catching the train in Platform 9 3/4. Thank God I didn't bump into Hogwarts Express. Hehehehe!

During my jouney, I found out why people said that England is wet and gloomy. It really is, with all the rain, cloudy days, and shades. The authenticity and antiquity were certainly there. It is really an old and classic country. The medieval scent is lingering in every tree, in every bricks of houses, in every pint of air.

And after an hour, I finally reached Cambridge. If London carried the sense of antiquity in every part, Cambridge is the antique itself. Every big building, colleges, and chapels warped me back to the glorious day of the monarch. The day of nobility and aristocracy. No motorcycle, few cars, and MANYYY bicycles.

With all the cold wind and light shower, I felt very welcomed by the old atmosphere.