Letters From Home: How Are You, Sir?


About few weeks ago my sister told me a shocking story about my English tutor back in my hometown. She said that my English tutor had an accident and got his brain damaged. I haven’t heard anything about him since then.

When I was eleven, the first time I went to the junior high school, my parents hired a private English tutor for me. Little that they know, he would be my favourite teacher of all time.

I was a spoiled little brat. Mr S was a very quiet man and I was never paid attention to his lesson. Until one day he got very angry, and told me with his low voice that he did not have to teach me anything if I did not want to. And he was more than willing to leave anytime. That was the day I got my respect to him; someone that I could not own, and treated like a shit. I learned not to treat anyone like shit since then.

And I learned my English from him. These blog, every words you read now, I learned from this man. My not so messy grammar, my not so screwed pronunciation, my fascination of English book, and language; came from this man. Al told me how I write better than most people she knew, Mr. Fix-It told me that my spelling skill impressed him; and nobody else should be thanked but this man.

So, I was so broken hearted when I knew that his brain damage from the accident affected his English. My sister said that he could not remember anything after his college life. He could not remember his sons. He could no longer speak English.

Few weeks before my departure to Norwich, I asked for conversation course with him. And writing course for academic writing as well. Although in the end I ended up writing blog more than doing my essays, I could not thank him more because he made my life here so much easier. All the conversations I can remember with him was in English (I can even remember one day I asked him what “bitch” means; I could not find it in dictionary).

All I hope is that he would be better soon. Not only for his family, but for him too. I hope when one day I come back home, I can meet him and ask him: “Hello, how are you, Sir?”


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