Profile of a TEFL Teacher

They´re a strange bunch of people, TEFL Teachers. Adopting a lifestyle which, to many, is incomprehensible, and finding the alternatives impossible. The job matches the personality so perfectly... it´s difficult to say which came first. Was this social misfit simply lucky to fall into a profession which suited their character so well? Or did they grow into their job and eventually find themselves incapable of working in any other sector?

Instability of contracts is often an issue, particularly in Portugal and Spain. But the TEFL teachers were breaking into cold sweats at having to sign a 9-month contract. What if we don´t like it? What if we want to leave? The sign of security is insecurity, the backpack being the ultimate symbol of liberation and independence. If it all goes wrong, you stuff all your clothes and Hemingway novels into the backpack and go. Leave. Walk off into the sunset...

No-one ever came here on purpose. TEFL teachers are required to have graduated from university, but no subject is specified. And no-one studies TEFL at uni. There are linguists, mathematicians, qualified lawyers, literature graduates, fine artists, actors and musicians. There are philosophers, communication experts, International Business specialists and computer programmers. And here we all are, teaching our mother tongue to the masses, and wondering how we ever got into this. Few jobs can be done by so many. Yet it is not the job itself that is the challenge, it is the uprooting and change, foreign language, food and culture, finding a house when you don´t even know how to ask for a coffee, wiping the slate clean and reinventing yourself every 12 months.

No-one knows how they ended up here. At the end of the day you simply have to put your finger on the map and say "there". You try working in an office and get claustrophobic. You try teaching in a primary school and hate the admin. You try working in a bank and hate the suit-wearing corporate culture. TEFL is... different. Because it´s not a real job. "What do you want to be when you grow up?" the teachers ask each other playfully. We´re only half-joking.

Many are teachers for a year, enjoy themselves, have a laugh and return to "the real world". The problem is when this period is extended, it stops being a holiday, and the lines of "the real world" start to blur. Home feels as surreal as away, being surrounded by your native language is depressing (Oh my God! People really just talk about TV!) and you have no idea what your family and friends are talking about (music, TV, politics, sudoku), and they don´t understand why. Culture shock is expected and "part of the Experience". Reverse culture shock is disorienting, unexpected, and somehow wrong.

The idea of packing the backpack and moving to Indonesia or Mexico is easier to deal with than the idea of returning "home". For everyone back home, this action is "brave". For anyone with the snail-like habit of carrying their life on their backs, this action is cowardly, evading once again the return to one´s own country. We don´t want to grow up. "Next year", you mumble, "next year I´ll go back. Maybe..." And the Dungeons and Dragons-style game continues, you´re heading home, you´re on the path. The only obstacle is your own lack of willpower. You know you´ll make it back some day, you think you will, but not yet, no, not just yet...