When a group of Turkish teachers visited a school in my home town some years ago, a friend of mine who worked in that school brought them to my house. After a polite exchange about the beauty of Germany etc. I finally asked them whether they found at least one thing strange here. After some hesitation one of the teachers smilingly said: “in Turkey there is a lot of noise on the roads and a lot of silence in the schools. In Germany it is the other way around.”
I expected such a “silent school” when we visited our first Gülen school in Mardin but was surprised to find a bunch of lively children between the age of 6 and 16 there. Our group was in a way treated like celebrities, say like Bayern Munich visiting a school in Upper Bavaria, surrounded by groups of children asking questions whenever we stopped to watch. They showed respect but where in no way subdued or shy.
The teachers were, as I had expected, mainly fine slender young men, carefully dressed, obviously giving an example in their whole appearance. The children wore school uniforms, blue the older children, orange and grey the younger, what made them look like a happy Dutch national team.
Gülen was nowhere visibly present, Attatürk was the man, also here, with a statue in front of the entrance and pictures inside. I liked the whole atmosphere and waved the children good-bye from out of our car. They had given me a good time and had made me feel like a star for at least once in my life.
I expected such a “silent school” when we visited our first Gülen school in Mardin but was surprised to find a bunch of lively children between the age of 6 and 16 there. Our group was in a way treated like celebrities, say like Bayern Munich visiting a school in Upper Bavaria, surrounded by groups of children asking questions whenever we stopped to watch. They showed respect but where in no way subdued or shy.
The teachers were, as I had expected, mainly fine slender young men, carefully dressed, obviously giving an example in their whole appearance. The children wore school uniforms, blue the older children, orange and grey the younger, what made them look like a happy Dutch national team.
Gülen was nowhere visibly present, Attatürk was the man, also here, with a statue in front of the entrance and pictures inside. I liked the whole atmosphere and waved the children good-bye from out of our car. They had given me a good time and had made me feel like a star for at least once in my life.
No comments:
Post a Comment