Suzannah's Italian job

IT'S my first day teaching at an Italian school and I'm nervous. I'm about to meet the 250 children who will become my life for half a year. The children look just like English children until I spot a nine-year-old in front of me wearing a Prada t-shirt. Behind her is Dolce & Gabbana, next to him Armani. Lounging at the back of the classroom is Gucci, well okay then, two Guccis, twin girls in Gucci sweaters. Even the teacher has designer glasses.

I look down at my sensible, flat, very unfashionable teacher's shoes and gulp. Welcome to my new life.

I am working in Cantu, in Lombardia, northern Italy, for six months as part of a British Council teaching programme, which provides the opportunity for trainee and newly qualified teachers to gain experience in another education system before starting their teaching career. It's a far cry from the schools I have been working in in North Yorkshire.

I qualified from Leeds University after a postgraduate teaching course in July 2006, and leapt at the chance to explore teaching in another culture, jetting off to meet Anna and Giovanna, my two Italian colleagues.

My role here in Cantu's largest primary school is as 'l'insegnante madre-lingua' which means 'teacher of the mother-tongue'.

Even before I arrive I am a local celebrity. The local newspaper ran a story about me and as soon as I land I am adopted by the whole community. I am recognised everywhere I go in Cantu and the town's residents make it their mission to provide me with anything I need during my stay.

On my arrival at the school, the children, one by one, sing me a song: 'Hello, hello, what's your name? My name is...' Andrea, Jacopo, Luca, Carlotta, Matteo, Beatrice, Francesca, Alessandro, Alessandra.... There are 30 children in each class. By the time I meet the second class, I am singing along and having a guess at their names. It's a lot of fun and a great welcome to Italy.

Children do not wear school uniform and, contrary to English teaching methods, they sit in rows in a classroom at separate desks. This doesn't stop them interacting with each other, though, often at great volume.

To begin with my limited Italian language skills are amusing to them, a way for them to avoid being told off. Luckily, I have learned a few Italian phrases very quickly. 'Tutti seduti' (everybody sit down) and 'silencio!' (silence!), both very effective when shouted at full volume and accompanied by an ear-piercing whistle to get their attention.

Another phrase I hear often, cried by children all over the world, is 'posso andare il bagno?' When nature calls...

My life here isn't hectic. I work 16 hours a week at the school and have some extra hours of private tuition and an English conversation class.

I live in a small flat near the centre of town and school which, to the despair of my mother and the detriment of my waistline, is directly above a delicious-smelling pasticceria (bakery).

The unusual thing about me is that I am hard of hearing. Many people assume that because of this, I would find it difficult to learn Italian. Wrong. I have learned Italian quickly and now have basic language skills, including reading, writing, speaking and gesticulating.

I am very lucky in that in my school, the headteacher is actually the president of the Italian Deaf Association. An extremely kind man, when I first met him, he flung open his secret cupboard to reveal stacks upon stacks of hearing aid equipment, all available to me should I need it.

He also introduces me to several other hearing impaired people in Cantu. This isn't quite as helpful as you would think, considering initially I speak no Italian and they not a word of English. I can sign in British Sign Language, but they sign in European Sign Language. Nevertheless, the support is offered, and appreciated.

My life here is not all about school. I have had some amazing experiences, including skiing at the top of the Alps, then having to be stretchered down to the hospital. This caused quite a stir in Cantu. I think they blamed themselves, but nevertheless the community rushed to my aid as I was laid up at home with crutches and I soon discovered that the reaction of an Italian mama to an injury is to provide food.

I don't know why, especially when I can ski, but I'd decided to try snowboarding. To cut a long (and painful) story short, I was rubbish, fell over a lot - I mean a lot - and decided that the easiest way home was on my bottom.

I must have been a sorrowful sight because the mountain paramedics decided I'd do better going home on a stretcher, which was how I ended up in an orange ambulance and in a hospital with a porter who looked like Santa.

I'll stick to two planks in the future.

Cantu has lots of festival days with parades and celebrations. I have tasted all the local produce. You can buy a nice bottle of white wine for 1.50 euros. And I have become a fanatic fan of Cantu's famous basketball team, with their equally infamous supporters, the Eagles. These people have taught me a lot, including several rude chants, mostly about rival teams Milan and Varese.

I know how to make and drink coffee the Italian way and now have a new vice, alongside drinking red wine. I have experienced the joys of walking accompanied by the screech of tyres as drivers on their mobiles (illegally) pay scant attention to the road ahead. I've met lots of great people, including two Kiwis who give me some much needed English conversation (and a place to stay if I go to New Zealand).

But mostly, I have learned an incredible amount from the teachers and the children here in Italy. I hope it has helped me to be a better teacher when I come home later this month. And I hope to stay in touch with all the friends I have made in my six months away from England.