This week I have created the blog, using a new video format! Let me know if you like it.
English Teaching story 1
Somewhere in Norway.
It was the end of my last trip in Norway, and I was considering a new career that could lead me back there. I had just spent seven years studying Wildlife Biology, Psychology, Archaeology, Theatre, and Film. I was feeling like it was a waste as it seemed like I couldn’t get a job anywhere. In Norway I had applied for 84 jobs and only gotten one email back. In future months I would apply for 140 jobs in Virginia, get 8 interviews and zero job offers. A few days before leaving Norway, a Norwegian friend recommended that I consider teaching English. She reasoned that the in ten years that most of the English teachers were going to retire and Norway would need new teachers.
Picture of Concordia
When I returned to the USA, I set off looking for master’s programs related to teaching: English programs and Education programs. I found a program in Minnesota I liked called “Concordia College” and I applied for it. I went through the process, submitting documents and fees but at the last moment I was rejected. I was now left to search for more programs, but the more I looked the more I found nothing that worked out either.
I turned to online programs. They also looked great, but when I looked at the money I was making, I estimated that it would take 4-5 years to get the master’s degree in education that I needed. That is when I found out about TESOL and TEFL certificate programs. (TEFL stands for “Teaching English as a Foreign Language”) I had two options, take 4 to 5 years working on a masters and then start teaching, or get a certificate and start teaching immediately. With the second option I would be able to gain experience and travel right away, whereas with the first option I would be stuck in America for half a decade. In five years, I would have four or five years of experience. I chose to go with experience and the certificate.
Lesson 1: How to deal with failure
When I was rejected by Concordia College I was crushed and sad. Like many other failed plans, yet you can only stay in doom and gloom for so long. I have learned over the years, that the best way to deal with failure is to create a new plan and goal and start working towards it. To replace failure with thoughts of success and to replace bad experiences with past or future amazing experiences.
Osman chapter 12: Leaving the Ship
We arrive at the final chapter of the story of how I taught English on an oil ship. If you want to start at the beginning then click here.
Time is not on our side.
The weeks were now flying by. I printed in the radio room, saw Uzgur leave and another radio man come. Lots of new Scottish guys arrived as well, they were just as interesting as the others.
I continued to put up ads, about five to six every week but I saw some of them disappearing. I could feel a negative vibe from the crew related to the ads, but I had to put them up. One day the head of security came to me and formally asked me not to put them on the glass part of the door. The complaint was that they couldn’t see a person on the other side of the door. It was a legitimate complaint, so I moved them farther down on the door away from the glass.
They looked like this except more blood involved.
The next event close to leaving was that there was a fight. It was between two students, the only two students in one of the afternoon classes. Apparently one of them had told the other what to do and the one being told what to do took exception to being told what to do and a fight had broken out. The man who told the other man what to do bit him on the head and apparently ripped and twisted his flesh like a crazed animal until he bled. The two were separated, fired and kicked off the ship. I was later told that in the Ottoman Empire whether you start the fight, defend yourself or let the person punch you, that you would still be fired. Thus, if someone attacks you, you should beat their ass.
When the roads cross, which way do you go?
The time was coming for my departure and I was certain that I would be leaving on the PSV again. Then one afternoon I was called up to the radio room where I met the logistics coordinator. He told me the PSV I would be traveling on was actually going to be the helicopter and not to tell anyone, not even my company. It was quite the dilemma because my company would be arranging my flight. They needed to know the time I would arrive, and they needed to arrange a taxi to the airport. If I arrived at the airport and they didn’t know, they would wonder how I got there and why I didn’t take their taxi. I figured it was better to have the guy on the ship mad at me then my company. My company could fire me for lying which was more than the ship could do to me. So, I told them. Then the captain of the ship got mad at my company and the radio man, the logistics coordinator got mad at me and my company thanked me for telling them and then asked me not to tell anyone else.
Ok, so I wasn’t this excited.
Before I knew it, I was plugging ear plugs into my ears, putting muffs on and marching towards the helicopter, careful to avoid its rotating blades. The takeoff wasn’t as dramatic as a jet’s takeoff. The helicopter moved backwards and forwards a few times and then skipped off into the sky, ascending higher and higher. The water was deep down below, and the ship soon disappeared on the other side of the horizon. I looked down at the water and remembered what the radio man told me, “The helicopter training isn’t that important because if the helicopter crashes, you will probably die when it hits the water.” I mean it seemed like there was nothing to worry about now, except the helicopter crashing.
This guy didn’t wait.
We arrived at Antalya airport and quickly got through customs as we went through the VIP section. I had met an Ottoman guy on the top deck of Osman before leaving who promised we would hang out in the city center and leave together since our flight was at the same time. However, as I made it through security, he was nowhere to be found.
It is hard to burn 7 hours in an airport.
I had seven hours to kill in the airport. I took turns reading different books and watching people walking by. Halfway through the layover I went to burger king and ate my food as slowly as possible. Finally, it was two hours before my flight, so I was able to check-in.
The new Istanbul airport
When I arrived in Istanbul, I had one bag with almost everything I owned, no home and one person to contact. It was my boss’s brother, where I would stay until I found an apartment. He was the typical plump Ottoman man; he was friendly and as hospitable as possible, even though he spoke almost no English. My legs were wobbling on land and when I laid down to sleep on his couch that night, I could almost feel my bed still rocking. It was only when I looked up at the ceiling that I realized I was finally back on land.
A big thanks for keeping up with the blog story! I hope you enjoyed it. This is the end of the story, I’m not sure where I will take the blog next. We will see next week.
Osman Chapter 9: Crew Changes
Chapter 9 is here! This week, there are crew changes on the ship, which cause chaos and a French warship shows up!
If it’s your first time viewing the blog or story then click here to start at the beginning of the story.
Ship men leaving, much like they did on Osman.
Now everything was falling into place. My daily habits and schedule were working perfectly together. I also knew all the students; their names as well as their true levels, so it was much easier to plan the classes. I hadn’t messaged Darren for almost a week and had every part of my routine down, including doing laundry and eating. Yet when I went into the classroom and looked at the crew members from all the crews, their test dates and other information there was something looming over my head; “February 24th, 25th and 26th.” These were the days when the new crew would come on board and by the end of the 27th; they would be mixed in with the other classes.
Trying to figure out the crew changes and curriculum with mixed crews felt like entering a matrix.
Some classes were behind the others, and now there would be crews coming who had already completed certain units in the book that would be added to the chaos. Now it was time to send lots of text messages to Darren again. It was my first time facing the crew change, so no matter how much I talked about it or planned for it, it was impossible to know how it would go. Crew member shifts were also changing for those who would be staying on board, so I was also guessing when they would come to class. For the two classes that would still have Crew A members I planned three lessons and had them ready based on different scenarios. Scenario A: The same students come but no new ones. Scenario B: the same students do not come, only new ones come. Scenario C: the class is mixed with both crews.
Things getting serious
Darren recommended that I head up to the bridge and ask the radio man about the different students. He could tell me who was coming on which day and what the shifts would be for the students who still be on board. The radio man worked with me over the next fifteen minutes checking all the students work times and dates of arrival. When I was about to leave, he told me I should go to the top deck, because there was an Ottoman warship patrolling along side the ship. Apparently due to threats coming from Cyprus and the European Union, the Ottoman Empire’s leadership had sent a warship to protect Osman while it was doing its exploration drilling.
Looks scary or sexy, depending who you are.
As I exited the stairwell and was greeted with the smell of the sea, I could see the towering metallic structure of the ship, making its way almost to the top of Osman’s top deck. Gigantic guns ready for action, Osman men in camouflage patrolling and running about, and others standing at attention with rifles awaiting orders. All of the sudden, there was a radio announcement blaring out of the warship’s speakers. It was in Ottoman, so I couldn’t fully understand it, but they seemed to be pointing towards the horizon. I squinted and tried to peer through the piercing sun and the white water that was flashing and reflecting to see. There was a tiny black dot on the tip of the water, far in the distance, where the water met the sky.
I was awoken at four A.M. with a siren shrieking. There was an announcement about the dot on the horizon. It was a French warship, which was coming at full speed towards Osman and its warship. The radio man went on saying that we should be ready at all times for an abandon ship drill, should anything happen. When seven A.M. rolled around there had been no other announcements, but I was awoken by another shrill noise, my alarm clock. In the class I had a stroke of luck, no students came. Then when ten AM came, only old students joined the lesson. A bit more relaxed about the crew change situation I went to the bridge to see how the warship situation was going.
A lot of action on the top deck.
The radio man Uzgur looked serious. No smile was on his face and he was furiously typing on his computer. He couldn’t take it any longer and went out onto the deck to smoke a cigarette. He apologized for not being friendly when I came in. He told me to look out onto the water and there you could see the French warship, now only a hundred meters or so from Osman. Directly fifty meters from the French warship’s guns were the Osman warship’s guns, they were both pointed at each other. Neither ship had much commotion on it, with men standing at attention and ready to take orders. Uzgur said, there was a lot going on, on the radio. There were a mix of threats and commands which were mostly being ignored for now. The French ship was demanding that Osman leave Cyprus’ waters. The Ottoman’s were demanding that the French warship leave The Ottoman Empire’s waters. Then they went from demands to threats and from threats to commands. Then the cycle continued but there was still no movement on either of the ships.
The main sources of entertainment on the ship were the gym and sleep.
I wanted to continue watching the exciting stalemate, but it was about twenty minutes until my third class. I went back downstairs to the classroom. When one o’ clock arrived, there were only crew B students. I did my normal thing, going to the gym, showering and relaxing until dinner came. At the dinner table there was the latest gossip about the warships around the dining room’s tables. The French warship and the Ottoman warship wouldn’t budge. I finished my dinner as quickly as possible and headed upstairs for the final class.
Mixing it up in the class like this. Unfortunately there were no girls though.
Seven P.M. swung by and the class was a mix of one crew B student and three crew A students. It was also a class mixed with crew A students who were in different units. My plan for this scenario had been to do the unit that was the furthest behind, and the more advanced students didn’t seem to mind. As the students left the class at eight fifteen, I was able to relax. Now I knew where all the students were and planning the lessons would be easier. The day was over and now I felt more comfortable with crew changes. The other ones would be much easier. The only problem at this point was the students who wouldn’t come to class, yet is extra free time on one’s hands ever a problem? I went up to my cabin for the night. The warships suddenly crossed my mind again, but then I relaxed. I was sure they wouldn’t do anything. Thirty minutes later I crawled into bed, hoping for a good night’s sleep.
Osman Chapter 8: The Radio Room
Welcome to the weekly blog! This week we continue with the story of my experience being an English teacher on an oil ship. If you want to start at the beginning of the story to catch up, then click here.
Our radio man wasn’t this handsome, but he was trying to be.
Before I even left Adana for the ship, the other teacher “Darren” had messaged me on WhatsApp and advised me to have a good relationship with the radio operators. Another radio operator named “Samet” had also messaged me, telling me about the PSV. Having a good relationship with the radio operators wasn’t going to be my only goal, but everyone. Because on a ship of even two hundred men, I assumed that gossip could get around quickly, and any bickering or fighting wouldn’t have much room to bounce around. Therefore, I greeted every person I saw on the stairs or in the hallways and chatted at every opportunity. In a realm full of gossip, it’s best to let them know everything about you, rather than to be a mysterious figure followed by many rumors.
Loads of a stairs. A dream or a nightmare, depending who you are.
My first day going up to print, I climbed the four flights of stairs and met another radio operator, this one was called “Uzgur”. He turned out to be a very talkative and friendly one. I often stayed up on the “bridge” talking and hanging out for a good thirty or forty minutes when he was there. The first few trips he helped me print or copy what I needed but soon I had mastered the printer and he only talked to me as I copied. There was also a door with a deck where people working in the radio room and bridge could smoke. I called it “NAV deck” a few times but some workers got upset at me and said I should call it “The bridge”. Before I knew it, it was part of my routine; climbing the four flights of stairs, copying, and talking with the radio operator. Due to the time I was usually ready to print and their shifts; it was usually Uzgur. I was fine with this as he was the most open and friendly of the radio operators.
Syria. It’s hard to find a non-political map nowadays.
I also chatted with the DPO, which was a fancy name for the person who kept the ship aligned properly. The acronym actually stood for “Dynamic Positioning Officer”. The first one I met was named “Daane” with two As. He was from the Netherlands, but Samet used to joke around with him and say he was from Syria. He didn’t appear to like the joke, but Samet really enjoyed it.
“I have so many things to show you”
I learned a lot about the devices and instruments in the radio room as Samet showed me how to zoom and change the cameras and Uzgur showed me different mapping, tracking and frequency devices. He also showed me how to work the public announcement (PA) board and how to change it so the user would send a PA everywhere including the accommodation areas. The PA announcements were usually sent to the working areas and only the drill PA announcements were broadcasted everywhere.
What my friend was imagining.
Another thing I liked to do in my free time was to watch the waves and look at the sun; taking many pictures of them as they changed, or fascinated me. I asked Uzgur more about the waves and how they were measured, so he showed me the measuring system. It was based on the wind speed and the current. The first time we checked the waves they were two meters high! I told a friend on WhatsApp and he almost had a heart attack. “STAY AWAY FROM THE SIDE OF THE SHIP! HOW IS IT STILL AFLOAT?” he panicked.
What the sizes were actually based on
However, they weren’t two meters high in the air, they were two meters on the wave measuring scale. The radio operator told me that there were different kinds of waves. Ones that were small in size but moved quickly, others that were medium sized but moved slowly and lastly there were giant waves that moved the slowest. The strongest waves were the small ones that moved quickly. The measurement had more to do with strength than it did height. At night they had observed waves at eight meters!
Those who seek knowledge will always go farther than those who don’t.
I thought about it the next day while watching the waves again. I liked to go out onto the open area of the ship and watch them. How high were the ones today? Later in class a student guessed that they were one point six meters. As he and the others left the classroom, I stood up and looked out the window at the waves once more. Then it occurred to me. In the classroom I was teaching Uzgur English but in the radio room he was teaching me about the waves. No matter where you go or what you do, you’ll always be teaching someone one thing and learning a different one from someone else.
Osman Chapter 5: The first day of teaching
The story of my first day of teaching on the ship called Osman.
This is the story of my teaching experience on an oil ship. If you missed the first episode, you can check out by clicking here.
6am, a time most people loath seeing; no matter how many hours of sleep they have gotten.
I looked at my clock and I couldn’t believe it was already six AM. I forced myself to get out of bed and shaved. After that I took a quick shower, as I hadn’t showered at all while on the PSV. The shower on that supply vessel had been suspect looking; there was one faucet that hung near the toilet, there was no barrier, no shower curtain and just the same tiles that were all around the bathroom on the floor. The water was also cold, and the entire ship was much colder than the temperature on Osman. After showering I tried to find the stairs that would take me downstairs and finally found them.
What a door inside a ship looks like. Beautiful, isn’t it?
Next, I tried to remember which deck the classroom was on. I glanced at the row of decks on a list near the stairs and thought I remembered it being “F deck”. However, when I reached the bottom of “A deck” which was right above “F deck”, there were no more stairs, only a door going out onto the deck of the ship.
A look out at the sea, during the wee hours of the morning.
I went out onto the deck and it was well lit, but as I looked out into the sea there was a swallowing darkness. I couldn’t see the waves, but I could hear them. I backed up and moved further away from the rail. Finally, I saw the windows of the classroom. Going inside, the starboard door nearest to the windows, eventually I found the classroom, with the lights on but nobody inside. I sat down and waited.
Our snack bar was a little bit less luxurious.
Fifteen or twenty minutes later the other teacher Darren came in. He asked me if I had eaten breakfast and I replied no. I had woken up at six and sacrificed breakfast over a shower and a shave just for today. He told me I could get some fruit from the snack room, but I didn’t dare leave the classroom for now. We sat for the next fifteen minutes briefly going over the lesson plans and then chatting with some small talk, most of which I don’t remember now.
Any teacher, gets to see many of these.
At seven A.M. no students came. Darren showed me how to record that in the “lesson notes” file and then told me he would leave around eight for the helicopter deck. There were calls on the broadcast system about the helicopter and people leaving. These calls would come almost every day in the future, and I would get used to radio calls coming over the broadcast every once in awhile. Darren left soon after and I waited for the next class that would be at ten A.M.
This broadcast booth looks similar to the one on the bridge, but there were less sliders on the board.
When that time came though, nobody arrived once again. Darren had told me that I could do my own broadcast for tardy students using the broadcast system or I could call the radio room and ask them to do it. On the first day I decided to let it slide and not to do any radio broadcasts. It had been expected that no students would come to the first two lessons, but after lunch, there would be students for sure.
A mess hall from a navy ship. The mess hall on our ship was a lot more attractive looking.
Lunchtime came at eleven A.M. and since I hadn’t eaten, I was more than ready to start as soon as the doors to the cafeteria opened. I had to ask a person going down the stairs where the mess hall was, and he beckoned me to follow him. Inside there were around a dozen tables for sitting and eating; two kitchen counters, a salad bar, a soup kettle, a dessert table and a second salad bar, plus a double-sided refrigerator and two jugs. One of the jugs was always filled with ayran and the other was filled with some kind of juice that changed from time to time. On my first day it was filled with orange juice. The other drink called ayran was a popular Osman drink, so it was filled and emptied every day. Ayran is a yogurt filled drink by the way. A Canadian girl in Istanbul once described it to me as yogurt mixed with sweat, but I had grown fonder of it than her. I met a few people at a table and chatted with them as I ate and then went back to the class to wait once again.
About three minutes before the class started a student came waltzing in, he had his head shaved bald and bushy eyebrows. He set his notebook down and then left. Soon there were four students and later a fifth came in. The class went like any other I had ever taught before. Introducing myself, writing their names on the board, talking about where they were from and other basic “get to know you topics”. We did a maze using “simple present vs present continuous” and then spent the rest of the class playing an “adverbs of frequency game”, similar to “candyland” except they had to ask questions and answer using an adverb of frequency to get to the end.
After dinner three more students came and we did the exact same lesson. I added a second die to make the “Candyland game” go faster but it still drug on forever. We had a few minutes left so I used the adverbs of frequency to ask questions and burn out the remaining minutes. They all shook my hand and said that it was nice to meet me and then the first day was about to finally close. I took a photo of the daily attendance sheet and sent it to Darren via WhatsApp, did the lesson report and punched the students into the attendance file. I looked around the room and made sure everything was in place. Turning off the lights, I locked the door and headed back up the stairs.
Me after the first day.
I had spent all day in between the classes messaging Darren asking about the level one student classes and many things about the schedule and planning. The first day was finished but now Sunday might be even tougher, with a full load of classes. As I would soon grow accustomed to, the level two and three students skipped their lessons a lot but the level one students almost always came. Luckily the following day was level three followed by Saturday where I only had to do reports.
Planning. My life’s greatest skill.
In my cabin, I went over my schedule and now that I knew what my days were going to be like, I could plan when to go to the gym, write and plan lessons. My first plan was to do the gym four days a week, on those days edit one book and on the non-gym days edit both books. Finally, on Saturdays I would write a poem and edit both books. This plan would not hold, but it was a good start.