Stiti limbajul PASCAL?

This summer, Mereseni's school lost its first grade teacher, the information technology teacher and the one English teacher who actually knew English. Turnover is inevitable at a school, and this wouldn't be a problem if there were young and qualified teachers ready to take the old teachers' places. But the problem in Mereseni and other villages like it is that there aren't young and qualified teachers ready to work.

The past week has given me some insight into the yearly scramble to find teachers for my village's school. It's possible the school went through the same process last year without my knowing, but seeing it this year has brought the chaos into perspective.

The first to leave was the first grade teacher, Vera Constantinovna, who left for Italy in July. Vera, in her mid-50s, went into so much debt financing her daughters' weddings that she had to leave the country and clean houses in Italy if she ever wanted to get back in black (the insistence among Moldovans to pay for huge weddings and baptisms that they can't afford is a topic for another time).

Vera's replacement was easily chosen; the new teacher will be a woman named Galina who had been teaching at the village's kindergarten. The students will already be comfortable with the woman who has taught them before, and she's qualified to teach first grade. As for who will teach at the kindergarten in Galina's place, I have no idea.

The next person to leave was my English-teaching counterpart, Svetlana. Sveta, as I wrote a year ago, graduated college with a degree and journalism and never wanted to teach, especially not in the village. Last week she took a job in Chisinau, presumably as a journalist?she didn't bother to tell me, her colleague, that she was leaving and for what kind of work she was leaving for. It's a good professional and social change for Sveta, and I'm happy that she'll be living where she wants to live and working where she wants to work. She did, however, leave me at the school with only Aliona, who is not trained in teaching English and doesn't have a very good grasp on the language.

After just several days of searching, Maria Dmitrivna, the school principal, found a replacement. My new counterpart, Maria, just graduated college with certification to teach Romanian and English. She is from Hincesti, the county seat, and will live with her grandmother in Mereseni during the school year.

Things got off to a good start today when I met Maria. In the first five minutes of talking, she smiled more than Sveta had in the entire year. She is enthusiastic about teaching, although she told me she's nervous. She came into my room multiple times today, which I don't think Sveta ever did. She expressed interest in how my classroom was arranged, my supplemental grammar books and my classroom's English library. In short, I think this will be a fruitful professional relationship, and it's a chance for me to leave a mark on the new generation of English teachers in this country.

The third teacher to leave is Sergiu, the information technology teacher. Last year, Sergiu came from Hincesti every Monday and taught all seven of the school's computer lessons. As I understand it, he got married over the summer and moved to northern Moldova.

So now Maria Dmitrivna is searching for a new IT teacher. There is a man in Sarata Mereseni, the neighboring ethnically Ukrainian and Russian village, who teaches IT at the school there. However, he's uncomfortable teaching in Romanian instead of Russian?when Maria Dmitrivna said this at the faculty meeting, I said, "If I can teach in Romanian, so can he." There is also one other woman who could possibly teach IT at the school, but she is unsure if she can come to the village one day every week. If neither of these specialists can teach at the school, though, my principal has one last teacher in reserve. Me.

That's right. My principal popped the question to me this morning, asking if I could take one day of the week and teach seven classes of IT. I believe that any right-thinking person, when asked if he could teach computer classes in his second language and expand his workweek from 20 hours to 27 at a job where he's already not being paid, would give a resounding No. When the right-thinking person heard that he would be expected to teach the 11th grade the PASCAL programming language, of which he has no knowledge, he would give a second, louder No. (My dad, who has worked in the software industry for over 30 years, sent me this instant message: "PASCAL??? This ceased to be of interest somewhere between 20-25 years ago!!!")

But I said yes, for one reason and one reason only. Because if these kids learn computers from me, they're actually going to know how to use a computer. The focus of computer education in Moldova is not computer usage, but instead basic-to-advanced computer science theory. Students graduate with a faint understanding of programming languages and the parts of a computer, but they don't know how to type, send e-mail, find a web page or use Microsoft Word, Powerpoint or Excel. The Moldovan Education Ministry gives these kids theoretical knowledge for which they have no use, but fails to provide them the basic skills they will need for a job in the 21st century.

If I end up teaching IT this year, I intend to make my own lesson plans, including lessons on typing, Microsoft Office and hopefully the internet (via possible Saturday field trips to Hincesti). As for the language barrier, I have already taken notes on some of the most important Windows terms as they are displayed in Russian ("Empty the Recycle Bin" translates to, "Очистить Корзину"). I am encouraged when I remember my first computer teacher back in first grade, Mr. DiSalvo. He was Italian and spoke with an accent, but he taught in English and we all learned. So Mr. D, if I teach (and the computers won't be a huge step up from what you taught me on in 1989), I'll always have you in mind.