My German teacher is really very nice. She is a wonderful teacher.
At fifty six years of age, she is neither young nor beautiful but tremendously smart and always equally smartly dressed. She is very cheerful natured, concerned, sympathetic, encouraging and is also physically very active and energetic. She takes such pains to make us understand, remembers to appreciate us for our every effort no matter how little it is, strives hard to instill correct pronunciation and above all this she is very affectionate towards all of us.
I love the way she professionaly dresses in trousers, jeans, shirts and coats and a silk scarf tucked in the neck with a dignified pearl or metal necklace visible discreetly. I wish I could also wear a scarf like she does. It becomes so much on her !
I don’t know how is it, but I have a sort of habit of respecting and loving my teachers blindly, in fact I almost hero worship them just for no reason but that they are my teacher! I started admiring her since the very first day and even told her that I thought she was a great teacher.
I can’t help comparing her with my Dutch teacher Sofie in Belgium. She was a complete antithesis to Martina, my German teacher; she was least bothered about her students, never explained deep and far, was never sympathetic and never appreciated. She had no bonding with the students at all. I rather like blaming my bad Dutch all on to her.
I feel I am so lucky to have Martina.
