Białystok from another perspective
Białystok is a city often perceived as a dull, provincial place, where nothing really happens. Few concerts, few bookshops, very few music stores, empik opens only when almost all the people in the city are at work… I must say that was my view as well until a very short time ago – when I took my decision to leave the car for emergencies and start commuting by bus or on foot. That proved to be crucial to my realising once again why I loved Białystok before I moved to Warsaw to study, why the city makes people feel so comfortable, why you should visit the Wedel café and why Białystok’s empik is not that bad after all… That was also when I understood that the way we see our city is almost entirely a consequence of our own choices: of lifestyles, daily routines, paths we walk on etc. Mainly so. (justyna_t)
Global goes global again
I’m one more Matura graduate to leave my hometown for Britain. Next week I’m starting my first year at Middlesex University, London, translation being my subject, English and Spanish in particular.
Ten years after joining Global Village School I’m taking quite a bit of it with me to London, to another part of global village and its stunning diversity. Good bye! I’ll be back. (Karolina)
My Matura mock at GV, spring 2007
Every time we say goodbye …
… we cry a little. When Ania and Kasia, two of numerous Global Village champions, started their seven-year-long English course with us, they were just sweet little teens, holding hands, full of admiration for each other and their first English Miss. As time went by, they changed groups and teachers but eventually went to the same high school and have been friends for all those years.
This week we met to say goodbye. With top scores in Matura and major language exams, they are embarking on exciting new paths: Kasia is now an SGH student in Warsaw, Ania landed a place on Computer Studies in University of Southampton. Good luck!
We’d better start planning Global Village reunions.
Ania A, Kasia F & albs_t
Why blog
We are happy to announce that the transition of gv_blog under WordPress is now complete. The page is fully functional and ready to take an army of bloggers when the classes start in October. Go and check.
Lost in Barcelona
Camp Nou, (or as the English reverse it, Nou Camp) in Catalan (the language of Catalonia) means ‘new field’. Every week about 80, maybe 90 thousand people (capacity crowd is 99 thousand) come to this biggest football stadium in Europe. But what is it about, why would they do that? It’s a commonplace among people who do not particularly enjoy football (especially women) to say that they see no point in sitting for an hour and a half and watch 22 men running after a ball. But it’s enough to go there once and be in this countless crowd of people to feel and realize that something special and absolutely unique is going on. It’s the same story as with what somebody once said about Christianity, it has to be true, since so many people followed it.
In the background there is the city. The other half of Barcelonians (because you cannot help getting the impression that half of the city is there on the stadium, even though it is only one twentieth) is considering the options for the evening. Either they will choose a stroll down the beach (you do not get so many tourist there in the evenings) or, most likely, they will end up in one of the cafes, bars and restaurants, so numerous everywhere, really. No big parties and celebrations are on the agenda today, as it is Sunday and tomorrow everyone has to go to work. Yes, adults go to work, and children to school. It’s hard to believe that in this city of palm trees, clear skies, loud tourists, astounding architecture, the sea and the mountains, people live like anywhere else, say Białystok, for that matter. (michał_t)
Why we love placement tests
Typically, they aren’t teachers’ most exciting tasks. Teachers aren’t supposed to enjoy qestioning all those stressed out individuals, trying to blame their former teachers and schools for their poor English. But we truly enjoy placing them in the right groups, that’s where our modest mission begins. After going through a rather formal grammatical list, then a short reading task, we enter the most anticipated third stage of the test. In an informal conversation candidates begin to spread their wings, their eyes glow, and they start telling sweet little stories.
Like that 9-year-old girl who couldn’t draw a convincing picture of her dog, but managed to sketch with a few words her best holiday experience, buying a pair of jeans in Toronto.
Or like a teenager who went hiking in Bieszczady with a bunch of foreign peers and realised they became the most important people she had met in years.
A quiet 17-year-old boy told us proudly how he played accordion at a wedding and earned his first money.
Some people come and show serious anxiety about their plans. A resolute woman in her fifties compared her decision to join an English course to a parachute stunt, hinting at the amount of courage she needed.
People talk, we just listen and learn. We are happy to help.
Every picture tells a story
Annie Leibovitz
A Photographer’s Life 1990-2005
Jonathan Cape, London 2006
We first saw this extraordinary book in Foyles photography department last January. While thumbing through it, we felt a strong urge to get a copy straight away, but common sense suggested putting it away. The massive slab of finely edited and printed paper would no doubt stretch a baggage allowance. There was something genuine about those black and white photographs, spanning over 500 pages, that ignited mind and disturbed sleep.
On returning to Foyles last month, we found out that the book was no longer available there. Possibly out of print, they said. Impossible, we decided, and started a wild hunt in all worthwhile central London places. Pan Bookshop in Fulham Road had one remaining copy, well hidden on the top shelf. Sixty quid!? We didn’t hesitate at all, knowing that its real value is beyond mere money.
This book alone has enough resources for a year-long English course.
Every picture tells a story, every story makes a lesson.
More soon.
Sarajevo, 1994
