When we just arrived in Germany, my sister and I needed to find new schools as soon as possible. The school year had to start in a few days, so the matter had to be resolved urgently. The problem was that the sister just finished the first class of Russian school and only knew a few words in German at the time. Such children are usually sent to a language course where they learn the language along with a bunch of immigrants. However, we lived in a small village where there were no such courses. However, the nearest primary school was located in the neighboring village larger, where children from all the surroundings came together. A few hundred students studied there. We went there.



The secretary immediately sent us to the director, promising that he would decide everything. However, when I saw him, I had some doubts about the choice of school. At the director's table was a man of thirty-five years in a semi-pancake. On the partially shaved head wore blue-green hairs. His mother also looked at him somewhat strangely, but the German father was not upset.



The director greeted everyone, shaking his hand. Even my little sister, who looked at him, opened her mouth. We are not that we never saw such people in Russia, but somehow in the director’s office we did not expect to see them. In ten minutes from the moment of the acquaintance, the uncle developed a tumultuous activity: called a couple of teachers into the office, called the education department, the school with language courses and elsewhere. At the same time, he offered us coffee, candy and asked how we were in Germany. Here is an honest word, its somewhat unusual appearance ceased to occupy us almost immediately, it was visible that the man was in his place.



There were two options: send your sister where she knows to learn the language, or try to teach her with German children at this school. The teacher and the director insisted on the second option. The classes here are small, rural children are very friendly and teachers are ready to help with all their efforts. In the end, my sister stayed with them, and we did not regret it.



She was very well received by her classmates, she immediately entered the school life. I still don’t quite understand how she handled it, explaining mostly gestures. However, the teachers praised her and said that she was making successes and understood everything perfectly. After classes, she came home on a school bus, did lessons and immediately ran with new girlfriends to explore the area. By the way, don’t believe that in these of your Europe children are only in the dude. We forged the sister out of the most unexpected places, from the cowhouse to the illegal shalash in the woods they built themselves. A month later, my sister began to talk. Before the autumn holidays, they had a school holiday, where the children organized a small concert with songs and scenes. The sister took an active part and sparked stormy applause.



Unfortunately, we lived in that village for another six months and moved. By that time, the child already spoke German quite easily, so that in the new school there was no question of a language course. Unfortunately, the new school was not so welcoming and cozy, the sister began conflicts with classmates and she no longer ran so happy to classes. All the teachers looked like they were.



I eventually linked my life to school and over the years I looked at a wide variety of teachers: rockers, glamorous bodies, Muslim women in shirts, noble grandmothers in cuddles of drunk cats and ready in full combat clothes. And I assure you that the teacher’s appearance speaks only about his taste, but not about his teacher’s talents.