A Day in the Life

Most days I’m up early, making the most of the morning, but today I was lazy, rolling out of bed some time after 10. A slow breakfast on the front porch as the heat of the day creeps up.

The house is at the end of the street in a quiet compound and there’s a hibiscus plant with bright flowers in the garden. I munch my way through a plate of fresh fruit and flick through a magazine; a few people on bicycles pass outside.

I shamble back inside; the maid is ironing my socks (still can’t get used to that!) and I end up spending the morning lounging in the living room, watching TV, and chatting with my housemates. Then it’s time to go to work.

It’s just ten minutes from the house to school by motorbike. I love having a bike here. A lot of people get around by taxi, which is not too expensive, and a few teachers know their way around the public minibus network. But once you get used to the traffic (which is not as hair-raising as it seems at first) a bike is the way to go.

It’s one o clock when I get to school. Classes start at 3pm, and teachers usually start to arrive from about 11. I’ve got three classes today, but I planned for one yesterday and two hours will be plenty of time to prepare for the others. I push through the door into the sharp cool of the air-con. The desk staff are all hard at work and the teachers’ room is bustling. I quickly check my emails at one of the computers in the lobby, flick through the Jakarta Post newspaper – no disasters today; just some corruption case in the capital and a lot of football – send one of the office boys out to get my lunch, grab a coffee, and finally make it to my desk.

Ahhh! – the ever-present sound of the teachers’ room: a low chatter of voices, bursts of laughter and a pleasant blend of Indonesian and English; the clatter of keyboards, the hum of the air-conditioner, and – always – the snip-snip-snip of scissors, fifteen grown men and women cutting away with fluorescent kiddies’ scissors!

So, three classes today – a mixed bag. First up at three o clock is the class I planned yesterday: General English, Level 3; I’m teaching them comparatives. I flick through what I prepared yesterday – a bunch of stuff about capital cities – everything’s in order. At 4.30 it’s a kids’ class – not my favourite thing in the world I have to admit. Trailblazers 2A. I grab the book from the shelf and get to work… or try too… another cup of coffee first I think… back to my desk… I always feel like this when I’m planning kids’ classes, I need some outside input! I lean across to my neighbour.

“Matt – Trailblazers 2A, prepositions – any ideas?”

“Certainly do!” There’s always someone to ask, and no sooner has Matt given me a much needed shot of inspiration than Amanda – my neighbour on the other side – leans across to me: “Tim, got any ideas for Level 8, past perfect tense?” Of course I do…

It doesn’t take me long to plan the kid’s class once I get going, and I’ve just finished photocopying when my lunch arrives – a tasty package of fried rice for the princely sum of 10 000 Rupiah (about a dollar) – so I grab another coffee (I really should cut down!), and head outside to the seating area. Students are arriving now, waiting for their classes and the whole place has a lively buzz.

Lunch out of the way and I’m back at my desk. There’s always a shift in pace after 2pm as first classes loom. The lobby is full of students and people are hurrying through their lesson plans. My third class today is a Level 15 – advanced, my favourite. I’ve got material for the class from when I taught this level a couple of months ago so I plan quickly. When I first started at EF I would sometimes be scrambling to put lessons together at five to three, but these days I’ve always got time to spare… for another cup of coffee…

In the minutes before 3pm the pace ratchets up a notch higher; the photocopier is going full blast, the guys are putting their ties on, people are grabbing folders and textbooks. “It’s time!” someone says… and we’re off!

The Level 3 class are mostly high school kids, with a few university students and one enthusiastic housewife. It’s a good class, one of my favourites, and a good start to the day. It’s a level I like teaching too – quite a low level, but not too low. The lesson I’ve planned for today is one of the few that really follows the “theory” the way I learnt it on my TESOL course – and it feels good. An hour and twenty minutes is over in a flash, ending with a lively debate – students in pairs arguing about which is Indonesia’s best city… the answer being Surabaya of course…

Back outside, through the throngs of students – “Hello Mister Tim!” – into the teachers’ room. There’s a ten minute break between classes, just time for another cup of coffee – dammit, I’ve got to cut down! – and to type out a quick email. And suddenly it comes into my head – I want to go to Bali for the weekend! It’s Tuesday, probably not too late to book a flight. It takes less than an hour by air so I can fly back on Monday morning in time to go to work, and tickets are cheap… yeah, a weekend in Bali sounds good… So I scramble through the hordes of students in the lobby to leave a message with Jemmy, the office manager, to hunt me down a cheap ticket, then it’s into the fray once more – the kid’s class.

It’s high energy and good fun – board races, running dictations, lots of shouting, but by the time it’s over I’m ready for another coffee… There’s a twenty minute break after the second class. It’s almost dark outside now and the teachers’ room is lively with chatter. I take the chance to scan through my schedule for tomorrow and think about what I’ll need to plan… Jemmy has found a flight for me – 300 000 Rupiah, less than thirty dollars – so I’m going to Bali! And with that in mind I’m off to my last class, the Level 15. Again they’re a mix of university and high school students, and it’s one of my favourite classes. Their English is fantastic, and they love to talk. They’ve also got a habit of distracting me from my lesson plan – and they do it again today. I only get through half of what I had intended to do; the rest is lively – and random – conversation. That’s why I like the high level classes so much – if it’s a good one it doesn’t really feel like teaching, more like hanging out with a bunch of cool people.

7.30, and I’m done for today. Other teachers have one more class to go, but not me. Once the bustle of the ten minute break is over and the teachers’ room is quiet I grab my last coffee of the day and spend fifteen minutes doing some planning for tomorrow, then it’s home time.

“See you tomorrow.” I head for the parking lot. The heat of the day is gone and the streets of downtown Surabaya are crowded with cars and motorbikes. I drive past the glowing neon of the Delta Plaza shopping mall, and over the bridge across the Kalimas River. The streets are lined with food stalls and delicious smells waft out into the traffic. I reach the quieter residential streets near home and soon I’m parking the bike in the garage and kicking off my shoes. Dinner’s on the table. Sutinah, the maid, is a great cook (can not get used to having a maid!), and my housemate who works at another EF branch is already home. We tuck into a spread of rice, vegetables, chicken curry and fried bean curd.

“So how was your day?” he asks.

“Yeah, good,” I say, “just a normal day really. I think I need to drink less coffee…”

ends