One would expect that after three years of trying to find a writing job in Germany, I would have found something, even if it was an internship. But even after sending hundreds of applications, nothing has come of it, but I remind myself nothing has come of it yet. I had to come to terms with the fact that I would have to teach to make a living at least for some years before I could start working towards my dream of becoming a journalist. Although I had completed my undergraduate degree in Cultural Studies from Pakistan, my master’s degree was in English Literature. In hindsight, this was a deviation from the path to becoming a culture writer, but nothing could have convinced me to not move to Germany for further education.
When I left Pakistan and moved to Germany in 2016, I was looking to experience something completely different; no one around me had lived in that part of Europe before, which made it all the more appealing. In Pakistan, people who can afford exorbitant fees of universities in the US and the UK do not even think about mainland Europe. My journey started with a risky move to Heidelberg. My sister and my best friends were the only ones who supported this decision. For the rest, it didn’t make much sense to go to a non-English speaking country to study English. Looking back at my journey, I can say that this move has turned out to be one of the best decisions I’ve made so far in life.
While I made solid friends and experienced an independent lifestyle, I was not as successful in my professional pursuits in Germany. Right after completing my master’s degree in English Literature, the COVID-19 pandemic hit the world. I felt my dreams and my stability suddenly and instantly crash down again. Everyone around me had had at least one proper job by that time and I was having trouble finding even my first? It wasn’t just about finding the ideal job at this point. Finding any stable job became a challenge because of the lockdowns. The COVID-19 world convinced me that I had no other choice; I had to consider teaching positions in Germany as a last resort. Maybe it would provide some stability and routine that I desperately needed? But that hope didn’t materialise either.
Just like everything else in Europe, you either need to be qualified to teach, which means you need to have a degree recognized by the state, or substantial work experience in the field. As a Pakistani who’d always seen people become teachers on a whim, it was another procedural hurdle to overcome. To make matters worse, I wasn’t a native English or German speaker, either. It turned out that teaching couldn’t even be a temporary option for me.
My dorm room in Heidelberg, Germany—where I lived for four years and completed my teacher training.
It had been nine months since my job hunt started, but there were still no leads. On top of that, I was depressed and anxious, spending countless nights in my studio apartment relying on video calls and remote interactions in place of genuine human contact. It went on like this until around October 2020, when my brother suggested I get the CELTA certification to improve my chances of finding a job. CELTA is a month-long teacher training program that equips you to teach English in most parts of the world. The only thing I was looking forward to about this training was the opportunity to travel to Hamburg since the training wasn’t taking place in my city, Heidelberg. At least I’d be able to see a city I had wanted to visit. It seemed like a good trade-off. But that too didn’t end up happening because in December 2020, Germany went into its first major lockdown and the training was shifted online.
Initially I had only three lessons during the week. A few months later, it went up to four. In June 2022, I started teaching at another language school and had a few more lessons. By 2023 I was working at two language schools and had a couple of private lessons too. At that point, life was all about commuting from one place to another. I was barely earning enough to sustain myself or do the things that gave me joy and was struggling to come to terms with the fact that I might remain a teacher and a freelancer for the rest of my life. It was hard to accept that I’d become a teacher, but even harder to accept that it wasn’t paying off in any way. Though of course I was now able to make ends meet, the fact I wasn’t closer to realizing my dream of becoming a journalist would gnaw at me. The only thing I cherish about that time is my wonderful students and their families who trusted me with their children and believed I was helping them in some way. For a long time though, even with some glimmers of success, things seemed to be just okay at best. I was still applying to other jobs and other opportunities every day, to mostly no avail, until one email that I had been hoping for but never expected finally arrived in my inbox.
Mildner’s Cafe Heidelberg—one of the places I frequented with my friends. We wrote our theses together and I later applied for jobs sitting here.
When I received the email in April 2024 from Navis High School in the Czech Republic, I didn’t think it would work out. I kept wondering why a school in the Czech Republic would waste their resources on someone they would have to go through multiple bureaucratic hurdles for. But they were willing to. It required a lot of paperwork; I had a list of documents I had to collect and get attested in both Germany and Pakistan. But the fact that the school was sponsoring me and had hired someone to take care of the entire process made everything much easier than it would have been otherwise. I had to submit the application and collect my visa from Germany, which meant I had to travel back there twice.
Unlike when I moved to Germany (because I’d already taken a basic course in the German language earlier) I didn’t understand a word of Czech when I first arrived, but I made it through the first day without any problems. I took a taxi to my apartment and then went to the grocery store to buy enough just to get through the next day. It was a relief to find out that most stores are open even on Sundays, which wasn’t the case in Germany. The next few weeks were all about navigating the city and trying to find the nearest train stop, bank and money changer. My colleagues made this easier. They took me around the city and showed me the square where all the cafes and restaurants are.
Říčany Square, Czech Republic—central square of Světice, the city I’m currently based in. During my first week at work, my colleagues showed me around.
The chores and the texture of everyday life remain the same, but where Germany felt like a dead end, the Czech Republic feels like a new beginning. Over the past year, I’ve started appreciating teaching as a profession. Interacting with your students on a daily basis and watching them progress is a delight. More importantly, you get immediate feedback on what you’re doing right. There’s something magical about interacting with children in a classroom setting. What adds to the experience is the fact that I’m a foreigner and Czech people aren’t used to many from our part of the world. It’s fascinating for them to be taught by a Pakistani—in most cases, the first they’ve ever met. I can tell by the way I enunciate that they haven’t been taught by a teacher with a similar cultural background. And when they try and emulate me, it hits home this feeling of influencing a group of impressionable children. So I try to do my best to teach them well. Their European background often challenges me to come up with new and fun ideas to improve their language skills.
In the midst of trying to grow as a human being and a teacher in a new country, away from my family, I’ve now come to the realisation that if you keep faith in yourself and God, things tend to work out, even if not in the way you may have meticulously, painstakingly envisioned for yourself. Doing hard things like moving countries twice has boosted my confidence. I’m not as afraid of uncertainty as much as I used to be. My experience has taught me that most things in life don’t go your way, but that’s when you have to let go, embrace the unexpected and let it transform you. Though I’ve signed up for teaching at this school, at a job which brings me much needed stability, I haven’t lost sight of my dream of becoming a journalist. This essay is my way to reclaim the dream. I’ve realised holding two dreams at once is possible, and the timeline doesn’t intimidate me anymore.
Bio Note:
Zahra Qureshi is currently teaching English at the Navis School in Světice, Czech Republic. She has a master’s degree in English Literature from Heidelberg University, Germany.
