I once had an English teacher who was Indian (on a high school in The Netherlands). He used to work for the embassy but stayed here until his kids finished school. He did multiple university studies in his life, like 6 or 7. He didn't speak Dutch. But he wanted to do something he loved until his kids were old enough to live on their own.

Often we had English right after gym class. He thought we were way too restless, so he ordered us to sit on our desk, folded legs, eyes closed while he put on meditation music from India and told us the most amazing stories from when he was young. About his first girlfriend, seeing the first steam train with her after waiting a whole day, and much more beautiful stories. End of the class: "oh by the way, this is your homework".

If you didn't make your homework or failed a test, he would never get angry or anything. But you could see on his face he was disappointed, while he said he knew in his heart we could do so much better, and that he believed in us.

Best teacher I've ever had. Such a kind and warm hearted man.

No one ever skipped his class. Everyone did their best to study, as we all felt he deserved our effort. He wasn't shy to tell us we made him proud, something my parents never said.