Starting school in Greece was a nerve wracking
experience. How different could it be to the schooling I was used to in England ? One
word to explain it perfectly is incomparable. From the school hours to the
lessons, from the class to the pupils and from the subjects taught to the
teaching procedures, the whole approach was peculiar to me.
Let me begin with the largest hurdle I had to overcome during this time. The spoken language ofGreece , it was undeniably all Greek
to me. As I didn’t know any Greek at all before we moved to Greece , I
remember learning the alphabet but that didn’t aid me at all in any way, I was
astounded listening to the Greeks jabbering away and not understanding
diddly-squat. So began my scurry towards the finish line to understand, to
read, to write and to communicate in Greek the way I would in English,
fluently. I spread my time across joining everyday lessons with my fellow
classmates, who by the way were so intrigued by my choices, and spending time
in the library studying, cramming so much new information into my brain as
possible. Slowly but surely my hard work paid off. I was understanding words,
phrases spoken to me, conversing even in the smallest way, reading and
practicing writing, it helped I had started off with baby books: this is an
apple, this is a dog etc. Eventually I did move on to a harder level of
learning but I’m intending on writing about learning Greek in another post, so
more all Greek to me will be here soon…
Let me begin with the largest hurdle I had to overcome during this time. The spoken language of
Schools in
For me it wasn’t a great age or best time to start Greek school, it was February and two months later the exams were to start, I was 13 nearly 14, dropped into the deep end and told to swim. Although I have to say I did enjoy the change and the range of new studies I was about to put on my shoulders, even if it did mean a lot of hard work, it didn’t scare me.
One thing that did terrify me was making friends. I was a little wary at first, the way everyone looked at me, spoke in whispers between themselves when I walked by. I had to expose myself to the risk of being friendly, something I wasn’t quite adapted to. Over the first few days of school I had many pupils talking to me in the broken English they knew; let’s say it was like a learning curve for them practicing what they had learnt over the years at school. A real experience talking to someone who’s English is the mother tongue, without the use of the Greek they were so accustomed to. It didn’t help that my strong
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