Teaching is scary

Yesterday was the big day; the day that I began teaching formal classes with the students at Bolje Sutra. We ended up breaking the students and parents into 4 different groups based on age. It was certainly difficult. I’m though excited to continue the challenge. It will mostly be a challenge because I am still struggling with learning Bosnian. I wish that I could help the students more by offering some directions and instructions that they understand, but we shall see how it goes. I know that I will be having help from the staff and other volunteers at Bolje Sutra so that encourages me. I’m glad that there are so many online resources available for ESL teachers and I plan on taking full advantage of the techniques and tips that they offer.

Things are going pretty well for me here. I’ve been trying to get everything ready to apply for my residence permit and that has been a pain. I had to spend half of a day at the hospital to make sure I didn’t have any high-risk diseases. That was certainly an ordeal. This is about how it went…

One of the animators at Bolje Sutra, Arnell, and I arrive at the hospital at 7am when they open. We have to pay the nurse extra for my forms; I don’t know why it isn’t included in the fee for the exams. She also gives me a list for all the steps I must go through in order to get the certification. I had to complete the following: blood test, urine test, chest x-ray, visit a psychologist, a neural-psychologist, and a physical.

During my blood test the nurse stopped to take a drink of coffee and a drag off her cigarette. The guy who took the x-ray of me thought I spoke German and insisted on giving me directions in German. I tried to tell him I didn’t understand in German, but that didn’t really seem to help. I failed to mention that before each exam I have to wait 20 minutes or more for the person to be ready to see me.

Next, Arnell and I headed to the first psychologist. When I entered the office I notice there are many charts to test for color blindness and other little ink-blotchy things. I thought that this exam was going to be fun and I started to practice the colors in Bosnian. The psychologist came in, she looked strangely at the two of us and sat down. She was about 28. Arnell explained to her what I was doing and why I was there. She turned to me and asked me how I was. I said, I was doing well. She then pulled her stamp out the drawer and stamped and endorsed my forms. She made sure to write that “He is not too crazy to be in Bosnia”. That was the end of my exam. I particularly liked how she emphasized that I might be crazy but not too crazy for Bosnia.

Then came the Neural-psychologist. There were about 10 people in line. Arnell jumped to the front and stuck his head in the office. I followed him into the office after he motioned for me to join him. Again, Arnell explained my situation. The doctor got out his stamp and stamped my forms. The stamps said that I didn’t have vertigo, epilepsy, or schizophrenia. I’m glad he was able to evaluate me so quickly. Arnell thinks that the psychologists are psychics as well.

At last I was on to the final test. I was sitting waiting to have my physical and another doctor walked by and saw me waiting. He invited us into his office for the exam. We chatted for a little while about my name being Irish and him going to Ireland once. Then the conversation turned towards politics. He was interested in my stance on politics. Arnell told him that I was a nice person and just wanted to help people. The doctor then proceeded to tell me about the needs of his political group he was a local leader of. Something like the Croatian farmers party or something. Apparently they are a really old movement and represent the needs of more than just Croatians. It seemed like a labor union for farmers, carpenters and other people in rural areas.

Finally we moved into the exam. He began taking my blood pressure. Then he realized I had set my water bottle on the floor. He scolded me for placing it there since I could pick up bacteria and get an infection. I suppose his reasoning in logical enough; he is a doctor after all. Next he moved on to finding my heart rate. No, that’s not right, first he offered me a cigarette, then he lit one himself, then he checked my heart rate. I know the medical system might not be up to snuff in Bosnia compared to Western standards, but offering a patient a cigarette during an exam seems a little ludicrous. I’m guessing they might translate a few of the articles from the New England Journal of Medicine. Maybe not though.

Other than that, things are going well. The students are excited that I will be going to the school soccer game next weekend. I enjoy watching them practice on the asphalt field outside of the center. I wish that I could play half as well as these 13 year olds. Well I’m off to administer a little pre-test to the students.

Until next time- Patrick