Little Did I Know...

... after four desperate months of trying to land a job in San Francisco, then finally doing so, an encounter on the first day would ultimately lead me to Bursa, Turkey. I sat down in the director's office that day.

"You'll be teaching General English in the mornings and Business English in the afternoon," Gordon said.
"That's fine," I agreed. "But I've never taught Business English."
"Well let me put it to you this way. If an employer hands you a class and says this is what you're teaching, what do you do?"
"I teach it?"
"Right. So talk about cover letters, job interviews, talking on the phone, etc. Oh, and just so you know, they're going to be a little hostile because they've had a few different teachers the last couple weeks. So, just take control and tell them you are THEIR teacher and you're here to stay. No matter how much they complain. Just tell them that's it. You're THEIR teacher."

So I walked in the class and there was a mixture of silence, shock, cynicism -- but most of all -- attitude.

"Who are you?"
"Are you a student?"
"Where are you from -- you're a teacher!?"
"Another?"
"What happened to Janice?"
"Where's Eda? Is she coming today?"
"What's wrong with this school?"

"I'm going to talk to Gordon!"
"So how long will you be our teacher?"

I was diplomatic. A teacher can always say to another teacher "that's the industry," but you can't exactly pass the buck like that to a class who's ultimately paying your bills. These guys had a legitimate complaint, but it wasn't my fault. I just got here.

"I know you guys have had a lot of teachers and the class has changed alot. But I'm here and that's it. So I'm happy to be here, so let's start our lesson. Is everyone here? No? Who? Eda? From Turkey? Ok. Got it. Alright, (ahem) ... so, this is, uh, Business English. Who knows what a sweatshop is?"

Just then a girl walked in the room. She didn't take a seat. There was murmuring and snickering and I gathered that this was Eda. I felt the other students were about to enjoy this. Three observations struck me at the same time. She definitely had an attitude, she was going to cause me trouble... and she was stunning. Tall, with this long, wavy black skirt, a style I didn't understand -- something clearly foreign. Ah, she's Turkish, I remembered. She had this long curly hair. And big. That hair was big! So big and dark, the likes of which I have never seen in the US. Certainly not in my last 3 years in Asia. Those dark eyes were like two black cups of espresso because, at the time, I didn't know about Turkish coffee. Beautiful. I almost didn't notice she had gotten herself all ready to pounce on whatever teacher was in this room. However, what she got from this teacher was a big bright --

"Hi!"

It seemed she was a little taken aback and some of her intensity waned. But as I would get used to later, she never gave in easily. She said cooly:

"Look, I'm Eda and I'm going to make my TOEFL practice test in the computer lab. I'm just telling you because Gordon said I should. So, I won't be here."

"Ok," I said attempting a half-interested shrug.

Almost as if she expected more from me, she hesitated and said shortly "ok, bye" then walked out the door. I had a nanosecond to be sorry to see such a gorgeous girl leave my class -- and with such fire! I mean, I just got here. Where was she going?

"...so that's why I think sweatshops are good for a country's people," a Belgian student finished.

Where was she going? Where was I going? And just what the hell was that Belgian talking about?

Oh what little we knew.