English Lessons

Dr Graeme Porte's rib-busting tales of his experiences while giving English language tuition to his Spanish neighbours!

Lesson Number One: "'Joo mus hilp me,' he threatened. 'Ah haf ingleesh ixam for entering Deeplomatic sirvis in Joon. Ah mus pars.' I immediately had this ghastly vision of Manolo leaping out of my lessons and negotiating his way through, into, or - most probably - out of the Spanish contribution to the 2005 SALT talks - perhaps leaning across to Mr. Putin and confiding: "Mister Bootin... joo jus leef Boosh to me... pissoff cake... he has a beeg truss on me." In the first of his series about being an English 'teeshirt' in Spain, Graeme Porte introduces us to his student Manolo.
Never Forget Lesson Number One: "My brief experience with the wannabe "deeplomat" Manolo should have warned me. He'd said he had intimate knowledge of the second-language needs of every member of the Pensi�n Los Girasoles, all of whom appeared to be in dire need of my services." Graeme continues his rib-busting series, English Lessons.
Chicken Chests And Cheeps: "I had, without my knowing, become something of a speciality act in the barrio. Manolo, my newly acquired student-cum-"deeplomat"-cum-PR had seen to it that not only my neighbours in the pensi�n but also all the surrounding businesses were made aware of my presence and the services offered..." Graeme's adventures as a "teeshirt" in Spain continue.
Tiptoe Through The Tutus: "Wherever I turned in Granada there were people far too willing to help me settle in to life en Espa�a. Although driven by good intentions, I now realise with hindsight that most saw me as a great excuse to de-shelve and dust off their English-as-a-very-foreign-language books, which would (or should) otherwise have remained in disuse." Graeme continues his tale of life as an English teacher in Spain.
Strong Arms And The Law: "If there is one thing guaranteed to put the virgin bilingual new arrival to the test it is the unputoffable visit to the cop-shop to get kitted-out with your identity card. There is no point in resenting the fact that your fingerprints are to be forever-and-ever-ol� on some petty functionary's computer, nor worth protesting that 'back home we don't do that kind of thing'." Graeme continues his rib-busting column.
Get Into The Bit: "Susan and Celia, the singing policepeople down Granada way, were that most dangerous cocktail of student. Blindingly obvious deficiencies in the linguistic flair direction, yet driven by a relentless will to succeed. You held them back at your peril. These two came armed with a wondrous enthusiasm, launching themselves at every preposition and phrasal verb unit in the book as if their next traffic ticket depended on it." Graeme describes more fun and games as an English teacher in Spain.
The Pain In Spain: "'End joor boolls, Meester Cr�me, joo notice dey move tree or more time chevri day, stoff like dat?' I gulped my customary litre of air before bungee-jumping out the reply. 'Well, perd�n, but actually, er, no lo s�, er, I don't really notice when. They are just there, really...all the time. Are they, I mean, is it...er... important?'" Graeme has some toilet troubles to cope with in this episode of English Lessons.
A Lesson At Christmas: "'Ees to beat eet and sock eet eslowly', said Manolo as he handed over the brightly-festooned box, its sweet label decorated with a three-kings motif that carried a handwritten verse written by my dearest student, which touched my heart and, somehow, covered all his recent deafening linguistic clangers in a rosy glow, making for one of those moments when a teacher feels - despite everything - well, you know, it really has all been worthwhile..." Graeme's first Christmas.
The Bonk On The Bitch: "It all began promisingly enough. 'Aksprosimately seex days, Meester Cr�me... ees for in-ars training. De bonk send eets members to the bitch for some good lessons.' Well, lucky members, thought I. Now that's what I call a bank that cares." Graeme describes the annual bank symposium.
May And Daisy, Sam And Ella: "'Now, kip colm Meester Grammar, jus kip colm. Leesten me: Joo will have now only a smoll preeck. But, plis, joo must try to breed slowly, very slowly.'" More antics at the Seex Penis restaurant.