"Close your eyes, breathe deeply and tell me: what's the first memory of this summer?"
If I had to carry out this delicate task I gave to my students, I'd have said: the taxi driver asking me "ok, where should I drop you off?" And I, without a clue, "at the central office?"
Thus began my adventure in the immense English Hoghwarts-style campus, including creepy buildings with common rooms, passwords to get in and fields beyond the horizon. That day Miss Dash saved me, leading me to the central office while asking to herself where we were going, because she sill got lost. And I kept getting lost for four weeks too, without ever remembering where we were allowed to go and where it was "out of bounds" and walking every day along the 5 km road through the woods from the dorm to the canteen, using the camera flash to illuminate the path.
Thus began my adventure in the immense English Hoghwarts-style campus, including creepy buildings with common rooms, passwords to get in and fields beyond the horizon. That day Miss Dash saved me, leading me to the central office while asking to herself where we were going, because she sill got lost. And I kept getting lost for four weeks too, without ever remembering where we were allowed to go and where it was "out of bounds" and walking every day along the 5 km road through the woods from the dorm to the canteen, using the camera flash to illuminate the path.
In four weeks I managed to break almost every rule that I had been given on the first day, first of all to not hug the students "but we didn't let you!" remarked the Colombian girl, as she kept hugging me.
I was a teenager too -strange but true- and I perfectly remember what it means to go on a study holiday to England at that age: it feels like opening the "Neverending Story" book, diving into another world, living billion experiences and emotions to 200% and then closing the book with all its characters and getting back in the real world, without knowing how to respond to everyone who asks you "So, how did it go?"
It went that I met great people, there was the Greek and the Other Italian, 007 and 008, the Funny and the Cute, the Scott and the Swed, the Talker and the Theatrical, and many, many others who are as always added to the map of my heart. Then it went that I danced to the songs I used to dance when I was 15, and I failed miserably when I tried to dance Scottish dances, but I also learned to Jump On It! and to dance to Korean songs. It went that I didn't hide my origins, and students also enjoyed having me on stage for the national anthem while in class almost everyone spoke English except one which continued undeterred, "ma cche mme capisci se parlo italiano?" (but do you understand if I speak Italian?) It went that I considered myself to be the most boring teacher on the planet Earth (or any other planet that was) but no, the students were crying bitterly when saying their goodbyes, they wouldn't let me go and everybody thanked me heartily. As I thanked them for every laughter we shared in class when they gave the weirdest answers ever.
It went that there's such a huge whirlwind of memories that I don't know where to start and where to finish, from our catchphrases among the staff (smashing, fabs, ball!, bullshit! -slap-, whaaaaaat?, can you imagine?!...) to the beach and the sea during the weekend excursions to the awesome performances during the international nights ... it's the Neverending Story, no doubt about it.
And like any good Neverending Story, we closed the book, said our goodbyes and stored our memories. I wonder if we can find the magic word next year, to reopen the book and start a new adventure?!
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