CELTA Livin'

When I decided to piggyback on Michelle's adventure to Hungary, I knew that a life on the couch would not be a viable option. This is especially taking into account my financial situation, which is fine since, fiscally, I've proven to be of mixed Scottish and Jewish descent. But sadly, a year's savings lasts significantly less than five years of life (or even one year of life), so I was forced to explore methods of earning money. This can be difficult in a nation where they speak a strange language, unrelated to anything else (except Finnish, where the only similarity I've noticed, is stressing the first syllable of every word).

I have 13 years of food service experience and I'm sure I could become the equivalent of an Ecuadorian in America, plugging away, being exploited on a kitchen line in some restaurant, but this really isn't how I want to live my life. I have no problems being an semi-skilled foreign immigrant, but only as a last resort. So, I looked inside of myself, embraced my inner-backpacker and decided to pursue teaching English as a second language. I cringed as my life continued to be a stereotype.

Although I do have an English degree, one cannot simply become an English teacher. So I did my research and found a highly respected certification course, the CELTA, being offered by the International House Language School in Budapest. I signed up, wrote an essay, had a nerve racking interview, and after sending them a month's savings, I was enrolled.

The course started on the first of October, giving me just a week to adjust to the time-zone and the lifestyle before diving in completely. I didn't really know what to expect. I'd heard many horror stories about the full-time CELTA course; tales of no sleep, tears, and impossible loads of knowledge in such a short amount of time. It had been a long time since I was last a student; I was quite worried that I'd forgotten how.

The first day of class was quite fun. My classmates seemed cool and Gary, our deceptively tall and funny Scottish instructor was a brilliant teacher (as you would expect from a man hired to teach the art of teaching). In the first week, we were already slotted to teach real students, even though few of us had any experience or skills.

My first teaching experience left me addled, but it went quite well. It was not nearly as hard as I'd thought; though even though it was day 3 of the course, we'd already learned a ridiculous amount. From that point on, I would have to teach for 45 minutes, every other day. Even though much of the course was spent learning methodology, teaching and watching our peers teach was the real course.

Most mornings, I'd wake around six, have a quick breakfast, check over my lesson plan, then head over to school. Even though the school is on the other end of the city, well into the Buda side, my apartment and the school were both close to subway stops, so it only took 15 minutes. I would always pay my respects to the epic façade of the Keleti train station and thank my life for allowing me to live a block from such a beautiful building, before catching my train.

I typically arrived around 8 and would spend the next hour printing, copying, and cutting. It is crazy to think that even after all the planning and designing is finished, there is still another hour of work before teaching. Our teaching went from 9-11:30, comprising of three 45 minute lessons and a 15 minute break. After this, we tore each other's lessons apart then prepared for the next day. After a lunch break (which I typically spent working), we spent a few more hours being taught different teaching techniques by our three main instructors. All were entertaining, inspiring teachers and I learned much, not just from their lessons, but taking note of their own styles and how it helped me learn.

Our school day ended at 5PM. Those with no lessons the next morning would hit the bar for a quick beer, the rest headed home to plan. I gained a new respect for my past teachers once I saw how much work goes into planning. I, like most students, just assumed that most work was done in front of the class, with a bit of test correction now and then. Lesson planning is long, hard work. Even though I only taught for 45 minutes in the morning, I would spend an average of five or more hours preparing, often working until midnight. In fact, the teaching was the easiest part: with proper planning, the lessons didn't involve much thought, even if I didn't even stick to the plan. I knew though that if I find a teaching job, I'd need to drop the 6:1 ratio of planning to class time.

I was so busy constantly that the four weeks just flew by. Week 3, traditionally the hardest week of the course, ended with a four day weekend, which helped us all recharge for the last couple days of our lessons. It was a stressful month, but the course wasn't nearly as tough as I was led to believe. I did get at least seven hours of sleep most nights and I remembered most of what was taught in class, mainly since our instructors were fantastic. My hard work and dedication paid off as I was given a A-level for the course. It is good to know that I'm still “that guy”, when it comes to school.

Now I'm a certified English teacher and with an A-level, finding work should not be too tough. In fact, I was offered a class before I'd even finished the course, but things are never straightforward in Hungary...