Learning to teach

Ayy Dios mio. You may not hear much from me for the next 4 weeks. And what you do hear, will probably be short incoherent bursts of stress & insanity. This is because I've started taking a TEFL/TESOL course to become certified as an English teacher. Then, presumably, I can actually start working here, albeit as an illegal immigrant, but whatever. I'll be able to stay in Buenos Aires, hopefully even in my beloved but pricey barrio of Palermo, and that is the most important thing. I am only 3 days into my course, and it's already one of the most intense academic experiences I've ever had. The instructor is fabulous, as are the other students in the class, but it's hard not to be overwhelmed by the huge amounts of material we have to learn in just 4 weeks. Added to that, we have teaching practice every week. That means I have teach a real class tomorrow - eek! However, I think this method of throwing us into the deep end of the pool right away is a good one. There is a LOT to learn, so we better learn it as fast as we can. So much more goes into teaching than I ever considered. It's not just the grammar and knowing your subject, it's theories & methodology, engaging your students, motivating them, trying to see your own language from the perspective of an outsider, trying to speak for a whole hour using only present tense, considering age, gender, culture, planning lessons so that the material doesn't just float in one ear and out the other... and more, and more.
But - I have to say, although it's incredibly stressful, I really love learning about all this. And as the instructor points out frequently, we are so lucky to be teaching in Buenos Aires - because that means we are going to be teaching Argentines, who are lovely, outgoing, inquisitive people by nature.
Today when I left class I was feeling speechless with stress, really having no idea how I was going to finish all the work on time, and sort of disappointed at realizing that there would be no social life for me for the next 4 weeks!
Then, as I was walking through Plaza Lavalle to the Subte, Julieta Venegas on the iPod, a Spanish-speaking tourist stopped me. "You're from here, right," she said, "Do you know what those trees are called?"
Here I should mention that in Buenos Aires, overnight it seems, Spring has arrived and these huge gorgeous jacaranda trees with bright purple blossoms are blooming everywhere.
"Jacaranda, si?" I told the tourist, and she went back to her friends to report. I looked up at the trees, a breeze was blowing and thousands of the bright purple blossoms were floating to the ground. I don't know whether it was my broken-down mental state from all the stress, but I had this little moment of clarity, like, Oh, yeah, THIS is why I'm here, this is why I'm doing this. Because I LOVE Buenos Aires. Even on the bad days, when the Subte's broken, no one understands my Castellano, the amigovio doesn't call, there's still nowhere else I'd rather be.

Soon I'll probably be on the street in San Telmo singing "Mi Buenos Aires Querido," you never know, if this English-teaching thing doesn't work out.