From Course to Classroom, Student to Teacher

Over six months have passed since we stepped off the plane from Milan. Six months of hard work and roller coaster emotions. To be in with the crowd, I thought I would reflect a little on 2012 and share my appreciation for what it has sent my way.

 It was Marco's birthday last week and after typically mentioning, "this time ... years ago, your mum was...", we found ourselves thinking about what we were doing this time last year. On Marco's birthday last year, he attempted to teach me to ski. Bless him, for all his efforts, I was quite happy watching the four year old's over taking me. It was tragic. I made a fool out of myself on the ski lift not once, but twice. But I survived and went on to have my first proper lesson in Chamonix later in the year.

At the beginning of 2012, people on my course had already started looking for jobs and by April, the majority in the class had a job to go to somewhere in the world. Marco and I had discussed for a long time, where in the world we should go and we settled on New Zealand. As neither of us had any money, it was best to go somewhere where we had some support and connections. My search started at the beginning of the year,looking for the ideal job. I had specific things in mind when looking. Having spent the time doing such an amazing course, I wanted to go to a school where this knowledge and information could be utilised.
I found a small Montessori Casa (Early Childhood) in New Zealand that wanted to extend into a Primary. This was an ideal opportunity. I sent the appropriate emails and waited.

Waiting is not so easy, when the direction of your life depends on it, you want to know quickly. It so happened that the school was looking at bringing someone over from America. I was a little disheartened, yet I didn't give up and stayed in touch with the school. Not long after, I received an email from the school. The opportunity for the American brought about complications due to getting a Visa(unfortunately for them). Yet, fortunately for me, that opened up the perfect position.

 In July, I went to visit the school. I fell in love, the two Casa classrooms were beautiful, the gardens were lovely and my classroom...well my classroom was being built. But I could see the progress. We managed to move and organise all the equipment in a matter of a week.

The classroom opened at the beginning of September. Before that, I spent a month developing materials and trying to get my mind into gear for what was to come. Although I had the materials and the room was as prepared as possible, I wasn't! When the children arrived, day by day, they introduced new dilemmas to be aware of, for example silly things like washing their hands properly or filling the sink to do washing up. But all these little things are learning curves for me.

This year, I will have hopefully 18 children ranging between 5 and a half to ten years old. I struggled to cope with twelve of them last term. Which to normal teachers is probably shocking, however, I had 12 children who were very unsettled each with there own needs in an education style which doesn't introduce them to 'keeping busy' worksheets. When we go back to school, I will have an assistant to help out with the day to day running of the classroom. My octopus arms and head could only cope for so long. Trying to give a math lesson to one group, help to others on their parts of speech and then guiding others on finding other work. While in the background there are children trying to cut apples for morning tea or painting without cleaning up after themselves. By the end of the day my head was a whirlwind.

It's very difficult introducing children into a whole new environment. With no role models (being the oldest in school), everything is dependent on the boundaries set out by the teacher on day one. Slowly but surely and by the end of term, I started to see results. The children started instructing each other of the things they can and explained the things they should avoid doing. Unlike other schools, a Montessori environment does not (or at least tries not to) use punishment. Discipline comes from the other members of the class not a dictator/teacher. I was so happy to hear that they were starting to take on responsibility and self-discipline which Montessori education really promotes.

 It has been a challenging year. Marco has always been there to save my sanity and I am in awe of his patience when listening to me babble or cry about the good and bad days.

Marco has struggled to find work for himself, yet he has not given up hope. Since September, while Marco searched for work, he helped out in the Casa classes, teaching Italian, being a dinner lady and making materials. I couldn't have done my work without Marco's endless hours in front of the laminator.

Often my thoughts are brought back to our life in Italy. How I miss the fun of learning and interpreting the language and culture. I truly miss Marco's family. The time we would spend giggling at the dinner table with his parents or sitting back and allowing the uncles to bellow over each other while watching Formula 1. We hope to visit Italy during their summer (our winter holidays), spend some time enjoying the sights and sounds of the country, without having to worry about writing Montessori manuals or colouring in charts like last year.

I am truly happy where I am, who I am surrounded by and who I have met over the course of 2012.

New Paragraph, New Chapter

The time has come for this year long chapter to come to an end, allowing another to begin. I left New Zealand at the end of April 2011, I had a plan. I knew where I was going and what to do. After spending a few months gallivanting around England, off I went to Italy. I soon lost the spring in my step after a month of experience as an au-pair. With a two month contract, I cancelled one month in, not able to stand one more minute of living under someone else’s roof with unknown expectations that I couldn’t live up to.

Swiftly, I moved out into a friends’ apartment, feeling like a mollusc in a shell I attached myself to the security of the situation while I slowly recuperated my thoughts and devised a new plan. Unknown at the time, but this was a turning point. I felt lost in the world and only when I got kicked into gear did I sort out a life for myself in Bergamo. I found a flat with people and began the process of settling into a more normal life. Piece by piece, the puzzle started coming together, forming my life once again.

Only then did my world get turned upside down when I met Marco. If I hadn’t have moved into the flat in Bergamo and been taken out to a party with my flatmates, I wouldn’t have met him. He probably would have remained in Berlin, where he was living at the time. However, once arrived back in Berlin, Marco booked tickets for me to visit him at the end of that month. I jumped at the idea and after spending those five days with him, I knew my heart was taken.

However, the main reason for my travels to Italy was certainly not to find love, that was just a bonus! The ten month course I took has left me with a heck of a lot of paper work and materials that need to be shipped home. But that’s certainly not it! The last ten months have been the most inspiring of my life. Spending almost a year studying in a foreign country, most of your classmates become family. The course not only educated us on the typical subjects of schooling, but delved into the psychology, and once one question has been posed, so many others crop up in mind.

Many of us had a few months of battling with a mixture of homesickness and self-discovery, and with no family, we really depended on each other to pull through. There were many terrible periods of time shared out in the class, with a number of broken relationships. Although the hearts were not mended we all provided the shoulders to cry on and the arms of a secure hug. For me, I struggled when moving in with Marco and his parents. I struggle enough with my own parents, let alone someone else’s who, at the best of times, I don’t understand. Yet, with help from Marco and friends, I pulled through and discovered the patience I needed to live, without being driven insane.

During the year, I’ve managed to visit other parts of Europe including Berlin, the UK, Barcelona, parts of Switzerland and also the mountains in Chamonix, France. I’ve tried out skiing and mountain biking to a bit more of an extreme level. I have seen big cities, beautiful villages, experienced crazy Italian driving, had true Italian meals. I’ve also had the opportunity to pop back to the UK to see family, friends and weddings. There is no doubt, this is an ideal gateway to Europe. But I’m ready to leave this crazy life behind and begin to relax again.

We had our graduation ceremony last week, after a tough final exam, we were able to relax and have a glass of champagne with a Countess living in Bergamo. At the ceremony we also gave everyone a blast of Tutira Mai Nga Iwi and the Haka, unfortunate that my hands and legs were doing their own movements rather than the ones we practiced! But we had fun and I enjoyed being a part of the crazy kiwi clan.

A week later, after all the other students have packed up and left, I find myself staring at our own luggage. Two lives worth and a heap of Montessori materials squeezed into two suitcases, a box and a sports bag. After packing up and leaving a number of times, I’ll be quite happy not to try again for a little while. It’s a stressful event, we’re both feeling it. Not always knowing what our hands and feet are doing because our mind is somewhere else; have I packed this? Will this weigh too much? Let’s leave this here for next time. I look forward to getting on the plane and having 24 hours to sit, watch movies and not have to worry that I didn’t manage to squeeze my ski jacket on top of the suitcase. No one looks forward to a 24 hour flight, but it’s the means to the beginning of the next chapter. One that will begin by Marco meeting my parents, us searching for a house, starting up an elementary classroom, and many other things that will be ticked from our priority list… including buying him a new bike! Time will fly, just like the last year has.

I thank everyone and everything that has appeared in my life the last year. I’ll take the knowledge and memories, continuing down life’s path. This time, I have someone to hold hands with along the way.

Cinque Terre and Florence

Having just arrived home from a strenuous four hours of driving, I thought in all my great wisdom that this (instead of unpacking) would be the best moment to sit down and reflect.

A few weeks ago, my birthday rocked up. We had a wonderful barbeque with all my school mates included. However there was nothing to be seen from my lovely man…no present no card? So…I complained. I was stopped and told that I had a surprise coming and that we were going on a trip to Cinque Terre for my birthday.
The week passed with days sat at school wondering what my surprise might be. I was getting a little wary with the hints I was being supplied by Marco. Finishing up school on the Thursday, I departed and waved good bye to everyone from school who were all off, out of Italy for Easter. Friday night rolled around and we went out for drinks and a concert and I was made aware of the date the next day. At this point in a relationship, we haven’t hit the ‘year’ milestone, and so months are noted down. That night I was given a ring, and I was very quickly told that this was not an engagement ring, more of a promise ring, one to tell me that, one day when Marco has the money and the time is right he will have that engagement ring ready. Very cute!

This set me in good stead for our trip to Cinque Terre, a set of coastal villages in Liguria. We left Carvico on Easter Monday and arrived in our apartment not long after lunch. With the weather looking clear, we took the bikes and our gear and made our way towards the Cinque Terre trail.



In October 2011, Vernazza, Monterosso and the surrounding area suffered terrible flood damage. This became more and more apparent as we passed through the valleys towards the coast. Once we had arrived at a T-junction, we chose to take the road to Vernazza, knowing that it was closed after a few kilometres. Taking a drive down the coastal road, we were able to see the beautiful sea views on the right and on the left the terrible damage all the landslips had created. We parked the car a few hundred metres before the road closed, the floods had more or less washed the road away. We decided to continue on bike.



It is all well and good going down about 250 metres on a bike, it gets a little chilly but it’s pretty plain sailing until you arrive at the bottom and think, “I got to get back up that…” We spent half an hour getting funny looks in Vernazza. It seems that these Italian’s had never seen people riding bikes or even wearing shorts in April! The town seemed to be recovering and there was a fair number of tourists there, however nearly all the shops on the ground level were still closed. Only a few restaurants near the harbour were open.



On the mission back up the hill, I was thankful the road was closed, with no cars pushing us, I was happy to go at my own pace more or less all the way up the hill. While cycling down, the landslips were apparent, but with such speed we didn’t take too much notice. On the way up however, I had all the time in the world whilst I was puffing away, to look around and take it all in. It was devastating to see scooters, boats, and pieces of people’s houses in the piles of debris. In places, the road had broken away completely. It was going to take a long time to rebuild everything that the floods had torn away.





After an hour of cycling up hill, with a few stops along the way, I made it to the top of the hill. When at the bottom, Marco proposed the idea of coming to pick me up due to the fact my head was rattling with a headache, but I am so glad that I persisted and got up there. Anyway, it would have taken him a few hours to cycle up and then drive 50 odd km’s! I’d have to say though, I couldn’t have done it without his encouragement, as soon as he even suggesting coming to pick me up, it made me push myself harder!

When we arrived back to the apartment that evening, I flaked out. As soon as we’d had dinner and a shower, I was out like a light! However this was a good thing as we had planned another full on day for Tuesday. With a 6.45am start, we headed to Florence, determined to queue and get into the Uffizi gallery.
Thankfully, with careful research carried out by Marco in the 5 minutes before we left the house, he found the perfect free parking just out of the city centre, which meant that we went on a whirlwind adventure around Florence to find it before setting off into the city by bus.

The Uffizi gallery was spectacular, and to help my observation skills, I was thankful of having a week of art lectures not so long ago. A lot of the paintings which we viewed in the lectures I was able to see up close and they were just stunning. After the day mulling around Florence, we headed back to our apartment near Pignone for a relaxing evening of cooking pasta!

Wednesday morning we were greeted at breakfast with the sound of thunder, a good start to the day! When the electricity went off, we took that as a message to get out and hit the road. A mad dash to the car up the narrow alleyways of the village, dismantle the bikes and off we go! Instead of the planned cycle ride along Cinque Terre, we decided to do the all-weather option and drive from village to village, which albeit will never be as good as walking or cycling, but we were able to see what we could.








A slightly stressful drive home has left us thankful to be back home in our own bed!

Miss you NZ

I miss the way the sun streams onto the leaves of the Kauri trees,
I miss the way my bed captures and grasps my tired weary head,
I miss seeing the rain trickling down the window pane, as the garden floods,
I miss the bright summer flowers staring up at the sun from early hours,
I miss sitting out for a beer while smelling the sweet summer air,
I miss being able to drive and finding the beaches that remind me how to survive,
I miss the acceptence of going to the warehouse in pajamas or swimming completely starkers,
I miss how the people live life with passion, not worrying about all the high street fashion,
I miss life as I have come to know it.

Viaggio in Spagna

Time seems of the essence, yet can move rather slow when concentrating too hard. School has been really...exhausting and stressful since Christmas. My main focus is finishing this course in 5 months. I have (with the help of Marco) coloured and painted over 60 charts and maps which will one day take pride of place in my own classroom, I have written tens of thousands of words and regularly see a Japanese lady who beats all the tension and lumps out of my shoulders and arms. I must say, without her my time at school would be more uncomfortable!!

I recently arrived back from Spain where I did my second set of observations. In this time, we have to focus on one child and analyse based on Montessori psychology. At this latest school I found it increasingly hard to do. After a week in an apartment with a leaky gas boiler, I took a train and met Marco in Barcelona. I was really excited to have a bath for the first time in a year (obviously I've had showers!). We arrived to the hotel and was surprised to find that their was only a about a 2 foot gap between the three sides of the bed and the walls! When we noticed the bathroom we just burst into giggles, the luxurious bath I was hoping for turned out to be more of a bathing in the kitchen sink experience! We live and learn!


That weekend, Marco and I visited a couple of famous sites in Barcelona, the city was beautiful! We went to a market near the main street and while looking at all the fresh fish, we discussed finding a restaurant that would do a good paella. So, we approached one of the fish counters where we soon learnt that the woman could not speak English. We asked in our broken Spanish where we could find a good restaurant for sea food. After a 5 minute one way conversation and nodding our heads in agreement, she lead us out the back of the market. At this point we were getting a little worried, as we stood in the middle of a corridor, we took a gander at the menu. At which point a toothless man approached us, he convinced us to go in to the restaurant...

Once inside, the restaurant was nothin special, bright colours reflected from the walls and there was one table of tourists already sat down eating. We looked at each other and said, 'let's give it a go'. After a starter of steamed muscles and salad, a huge plate of fresh paella reached our table and within 10 minutes we had devoured everything. A small portion of white wine lingered in the bottle as we ate our desserts, when we had finished every last bit, we were even more satisfied when the bill only came to 30euros for everything. It was delicious!! And so cheap!!

Now, we have returned to Bergamo and the thick layer of snow. The people I have met here are wonderful, but I think I can speak for Marco and I in saying that, as soon as this course is over we're outta here! The women in their fur coats, with tiny dogs... crazy vespas that swipe passed you on the sidewalk... people who have perfected the art of eating spaghetti... I think it'll be time to move on and find another culture to delve into!

The Beginnings of Festive Spirit

It seems I have passive smoked for 6 months now, not on purpose of course, but it seems the majority of Italians linger within a cloud of their own cigarette smoke. I've giggled and frowned at the women in their Gucci heels, too prude and proud to pick up their miniature dogs poo, that appears scattered all over the cobble streets. I've worked and reiterated more words than I feel I ever wrote at university and yet we’re not even half way through the year. I’ve sat through meals and awkward conversations not understanding a word that is spoken. And I’ve been blessed with finding love and being embraced into a whole new family.

I find myself looking forward to a week full of family and friends that speak my own language and know me without the awkward language barrier. Feeling so embraced in my new found foreign family is wonderful but when it comes to Christmas surrounded by a language I find exhausting to keep up with, I believe it would probably make me feel more homesick than I am every other day.

Homesickness is pushed aside at the moment, too busy to consider it and there are others on the course that have bigger problems and issues that I’d much rather care to and worry about. Yet I know when I stop for holidays, it will catch up with me. To be surrounded by family and loved ones in my life for a week will make all this hard work seem worthwhile. A little treat to myself and to Marco!

Introducing Marco to my Brother and Sister is what I’m really looking forward to, I can’t wait for him to see and understand more of my side of life. He’s probably a bit nervous but I’m sure after a few Christmas beverages and good British home cooking, he’ll forget that he was ever worried! It’ll be unfortunate that Mum and Dad can’t join us all for Christmas. However, they will be living the kiwi Christmas, with BBQ’s, beers and sunshine and hopefully surrounding themselves with jolly people to appreciate the festive spirit, or at least what there is of it in New Zealand! Christmas trees replaced by Pohutakawa’s and snow boots for jandles. A whole different version of Christmas! I hope one day in the future we’ll all have a Christmas together… but for now, appreciate this Christmas, wherever we are in the world.

What one week away does...

Sometimes it shocks me,
A little like electricity,
It floods through my heart,
Tears my thoughts apart
and spreads a smile across my face.

Some think love comes from Cupid,
I think that's rather stupid,
For there is always love stored away,
Inside us, ready for the day,
When we meet the one that has the key,
to spark us to love within reality.