 They
opened the heavy steel door and I peered inside. - A sudden realization
gripped me and I felt my emotions begin to stir. - ‘A furnished studio
apartment,’ they had said. - ‘Close to the school,’ they had promised.
I fought the
sudden urge to collapse onto the nearest available poultry house and turned
to smile patiently at their expectant faces.
‘Thank you,’
I murmured. This was a battle that would not to be fought here.
‘Close to the
school’ it certainly was. ‘A furnished studio apartment’ it definitely
wasn’t.
James Tam was
St. Paul’s P.E. Teacher (or one of them), a keen school gardener and wearer
of comedy straw cowboy hats. He and a young (temporary) school secretary
from Canada called Iris, proceeded to show me around my intended living
quarters for the duration of my teaching contract at St. Paul’s. Measuring
up at less than four hundred square feet, this didn’t take long.
It wasn’t the
size of the place that concerned me though; it was the state of it. The
pile of old cars at the entrance to the village (one of them a tragically
neglected classic MGB GT), the camping stove in the kitchen, the donated
furniture. They were having a laugh.
I sneezed as
the dust awoke from its slumber and loose pieces of ‘lino’ crunched under
my feet. There was very little light due to the musty ill-fitting curtains
that had been dragged across the small window in the living room and I
removed my prescription sunglasses so that I might see more clearly. A
middle aged Chinese man (who I assumed to be the landlord), appeared in
the doorway and then quickly stepped past James to pull the curtains apart.
Moving towards the window I glanced
at part of the narrow pathway outside which appeared to be flanked with
wooden boards and planks, pieces of household furniture and corrugated
iron sheets.
Next to me, the landlord seemed to
have become entangled in a stray curtain cord.
James and Iris then led me from a
combined kitchen-toilet-utility room into the bedroom to show me that there
were patio doors leading out onto a rickety wooden platform.
‘Nice pa-ti-o!’
The voice came from behind. It was
the landlord. He had since untied his wrist watch from the curtain cord
and was now repairing an indoor television aerial with a roll of masking
tape.
I didn’t answer and cast my eyes
around to face a line of wire bird runs where tatty, featherless poultry
stooped and fought for foot space whilst emitting the kind of aroma that
took me back to 1978 when I used to nick eggs from Walker’s Farm.
‘Good place to do marking,’ James
observed, careful to watch his footing. He was clearly impressed with the
apartment’s ‘al fresco’ facilities. I nodded enthusiastically. ‘Oh yes,
I could sit out here all day!’ I replied.
Only old fashioned British sarcasm
could keep me afloat at a time like this. Because I was speechless.
I then took
the three steps required to return to the living room where I noted that
two of my new neighbours were standing in the steel doorway pointing at
me with bony fingers, smiling and exchanging phrases in a language which
at this stage, I could never even begin to understand. A rather weathered
male face then suddenly appeared at the living room window. I stepped back
and ‘The Shining’ suddenly came to mind.
These faces
said it all. Foreigners never came here. In fact, these two old dears looked
like they hadn’t seen a white man since the war - and one of them was still
wearing his pajamas. It’s not that they were unwelcoming; the faces weren’t
unkind - if anything, they were just curious. This was fine. I just didn’t
want them being curious in my doorway.
After a few
moments they scuttled out onto the pathway outside and I heard them chattering
excitedly in what I assumed to be Cantonese as they made their way past
the window and down into the village.
For a moment
we all stood in the ‘living room’ and then James handed me a set of keys.
‘Can move in today!’ he exclaimed. ‘We’re neighbours!’
In my mind
I had always been a traveler. I grew up on The Isle of Man, a beautiful
but mostly storm lashed Celtic island situated in the middle of the Irish
Sea. Even in my formative years I had explored, chartering the rivers,
fields and streams that surrounded my sleepy village, convinced that
I was setting foot where no eight year old had dared to venture before.
Teaching English
abroad has since become an extension of that childhood wonder and has since
taken me to live and work in Singapore and Hong Kong, encounter disgruntled
tigers in China, SCUBA dive with black tipped reef sharks in Malaysia,
trawl the backstreet markets and bars of Bangkok, camp, bungee jump and
swim with wild dolphins in New Zealand, farm stay in Australia and rub
shoulders with the locals on outlying Indonesian islands.
The first thing
to consider when thinking about teaching English in Asia is your qualifications.
Simply being a native speaker is no longer enough. In Singapore and Hong
Kong (which are both excellent bases to live and work whilst you plan your
adventures during school holidays) you will need to be qualified. The more
qualifications you have in the field the better. In both countries, you
will need a sponsor in order to obtain a working visa. In my experience
there are three types of sponsor and I list these in order of preference.
Your first choice should be an international school, your second a government
school and your third would be a commercial language school.
In order to
secure a position in an International school, you will need a college or
university degree in English language or Literature along with a post graduate
diploma in education or similar. A Masters is an added bonus. Competition
for positions in these schools is very high and so even if you are qualified,
previous experience will be your passport. The English School’s Foundation,
The United World College, American, British, Australian, Chinese, Japanese
and Korean International schools exist in both countries and their staff,
students and educational systems will largely reflect that of their country
of origin.
Both the Hong
Kong department of Education and Singapore’s Ministry of Education offer
excellent terms and conditions for English Teachers which include a basic
salary, medical insurance, return flights and a generous housing allowance.
Government positions in Hong Kong are less stringent in that they will
accept a native speaker with a degree related subject. This will involve
a slightly lower salary but you will still be paid a great deal more than
the average local salary. However, competition for these positions is also
very high so if you’re not successful in your application, you may like
to consider applying directly to schools which may include free accommodation
and medical insurance in addition to your salary.
If you are
successful in securing a position of this nature, please ensure that you
request photographs of your intended accommodation long before you sign
a contract. In my introduction to this article, I was disappointed with
my accommodation but was later able to renegotiate alternative arrangements.
I was lucky but it didn’t exactly get my employment off on an ideal footing.
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Commercial
language schools offer less secure work and less favorable terms and conditions
yet I have spoken to teachers who work for several of these institutions
at any one time and they claim to be making a decent living. These institutions
will accept TEFL or TESOL certificates in addition to your native speaker
status. The downside here is that you will not be paid for holidays as
this is probably their busiest time. Students and adults often take up
holiday, weekend and evening classes to improve their English so this is
when you will be called upon to teach. In addition, the people who run
these places have also been known to dismiss teachers at a moment’s notice
if they are not happy with their services. Working for International schools
or government departments of education is more preferable because they
will offer you a contract of employment.
