ESL teaching is by far the most plentiful work for foreigners in Turkey, but has its hardships. At least it did for me, a recent college graduate whose rose-color vision of teaching was quickly shattered.
My first dose of reality came when my company started sending me to an off-site teaching gig at a drab factory in a city two hours away from Istanbul. For three months I spent my weekends in an unheated van, being chauffeured to that industrial wasteland and wondering how many hours of my life disappeared while I sat in transit.
“How much longer, Osman Bey?”
“Bilmiyorum,” said my mustachioed driver. He wasn’t any happier to be there than I. Nor were my co-workers, Mark and Erica. We shared many weekends in that van, complaining about our school and the Machiavellian web of deception our managers had spun: we weren’t being reimbursed for travel time, even though it was a four-hour round trip.
I once calculated that all the unpaid travel time cost me one month’s salary, which was nothing to brag about. I never understood why they sent us here - maybe there was a fat contract involved - but I did know that crazy situations like this weren’t uncommon for Istanbul’s ESL teachers.
My co-workers had plenty of horror stories. Tales of late paychecks, 40-plus hours of teaching a week and having to cater to every whim of their sadistic managers abounded. It was borderline exploitation, which made me wonder why these schools didn’t collapse.
Simple: supply and demand. There is a never-ending supply of wide-eyed troubadours in Turkey, fresh off the plane and ready to take the first job that comes along. Even if they quit after the first few months -- which many do -- as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow, there will be planeloads of Istanbul newbies ready to take their spot.
Because of its high turnover rate, teaching English is something of a rite of passage for Istanbul expats. Most of us have done it at some point because, much like dish washing or janitor jobs, there is always work available.
And my job wasn’t always bad. I even had a little fun during my 10-month stint. Turkish students are never short on energy (although they are short on morality when it comes to not cheating). And my American branch manager always took our side with problems with administration came up.
But most of all, being an ESL teacher built character. I became comfortable with confrontation, whether it was a problem student or block-headed administrator, and learned how to hold a good cross-cultural conversation that wasn’t saddled with slang or American cultural references.
My biggest character-building experiences, however, came from going to the Bulgarian border to renew my three-month tourist visa. On one border run I sat next to a chatty woman who almost got me arrested.
When the police officer boarded our Istanbul-bound bus to look at our passports, he looked quizzically at my numerous tourist visas. I pretended not to speak Turkish, but my neighbor decided to be a hero and speak for me: “Oh, this foreigner is an English teacher. He is getting a new tourist visa because he is an English teacher.”
I slapped my forehead and wondered why this woman was so intent on getting me arrested for my illegal employment. The police officer looked at me and his face immediately lit up.
“Oh, you’re an English teacher! No problem; the tourist visa office is this way. Hadi gel!”
Because of its high turnover rate, teaching English is something of a rite of passage for Istanbul expats. Most of us have done it at some point because, much like dish washing or janitor jobs, there is always work available.
And my job wasn’t always bad. I even had a little fun during my 10-month stint. Turkish students are never short on energy (although they are short on morality when it comes to not cheating). And my American branch manager always took our side with problems with administration came up.
But most of all, being an ESL teacher built character. I became comfortable with confrontation, whether it was a problem student or block-headed administrator, and learned how to hold a good cross-cultural conversation that wasn’t saddled with slang or American cultural references.
My biggest character-building experiences, however, came from going to the Bulgarian border to renew my three-month tourist visa. On one border run I sat next to a chatty woman who almost got me arrested.
When the police officer boarded our Istanbul-bound bus to look at our passports, he looked quizzically at my numerous tourist visas. I pretended not to speak Turkish, but my neighbor decided to be a hero and speak for me: “Oh, this foreigner is an English teacher. He is getting a new tourist visa because he is an English teacher.”
I slapped my forehead and wondered why this woman was so intent on getting me arrested for my illegal employment. The police officer looked at me and his face immediately lit up.
“Oh, you’re an English teacher! No problem; the tourist visa office is this way. Hadi gel!”
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