There are 24 official languages in the European Union. Twenty-four. That’s enough to make even the most diligent polyglot break into a sweat. It’s also the sort of number that bureaucrats in Brussels rattle off with pride, before returning to drafting new regulations on the permissible curvature of cucumbers. But behind the statistic lies a simple truth: Europe is noisy, messy, gloriously confusing — and richer for it.

So when the European Day of Languages rolled around, I found myself celebrating this polyphonic chaos in the most unlikely of ways: by going back to school. Not as a student — my knees creak too much for those tiny wooden desks — but as a sort of guest teacher, delivering a presentation about England, the English language, and, inevitably, why London and Dubrovnik are about as similar as fish and bicycles.

It was actually rather nice. There’s a peculiar thrill in standing at the front of a classroom and realising you now wield the authority once held by those who tortured you with algebra and squeaky chalk.

From Chalkboards to Clever Boards

Ah yes, chalk. Let’s talk about chalk. When I was at school, chalk was both weapon and soundtrack. Teachers hurled it like grenades at inattentive pupils and dragged it across blackboards with a screech that could strip paint.

Today, though, classrooms are kitted out with what they call “clever boards.” These aren’t just whiteboards. They’re internet-enabled, app-compatible, touch-sensitive slabs of sorcery that make my old blackboard look like something chiselled by Neanderthals. You don’t just write on them; you stream, swipe, and project.

It’s basically an iPad on steroids, mounted to a wall.

Naturally, the pupils take this witchcraft for granted. I, however, stood in awe, half-expecting the board to ask me to update its software or connect to Bluetooth headphones.

But the real shock came after my little lecture about the UK, when the pupils had a quiz. Back in my day (a phrase I now deploy with alarming frequency), this would’ve involved the teacher handing out worksheets. Instead, the children whipped out their mobile phones — yes, phones in the classroom, and not confiscated — and logged into an app that connected them to the clever board. Suddenly, the classroom was buzzing with a digital battle of wits, each child competing against their classmates online, in real time.

Uniforms? Not in Dubrovnik

And speaking of cultural divides, let’s address the one that loomed largest in my return to school: uniforms. Or rather, the complete lack thereof. Imagine my shock at a classroom full of teenagers dressed like they’d just walked off the set of a Netflix teen drama. Hoodies, trainers, brand logos that cost more than my monthly electricity bill.

In England, the uniform is sacrosanct — blazers, ties, shoes polished within an inch of their lives. Here? It’s a sartorial free-for-all. So, in the spirit of cultural exchange, I asked the class a question: “How many of you would like to wear uniforms?” Not a single hand went up. Not one.

The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of my inner headmaster weeping.

Now, I know the arguments: uniforms promote equality, reduce bullying, instil discipline, and stop kids from dressing like TikTok influencers who shop exclusively at Gucci. And I was assured by one teacher that yes, children here do experience a subtle form of discrimination based on clothing — the haves versus the have-nots, stitched into cotton and polyester. A uniform, I argued, would level the playing field. It would bring — and forgive me this pun — actual uniformity.

The More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same

These kids live in a world unrecognisable to the one I grew up in. They are digital natives, fluent not just in multiple languages (English is practically a second skin to them) but also in memes, emojis, and the kind of cultural references that make anyone over 40 feel like they’ve just woken from a coma.

And yet, despite the gadgets, the clever boards, the phones, and the casual attire, the essence of school remains the same. There is curiosity, there is boredom, there is the unspoken hierarchy of who sits where. The front row still belongs to the diligent, the back row to the cool and the sleepy.

Teachers still juggle authority with exasperation, and pupils still doodle when they think no one’s looking.

The technology may have evolved, but the dance of education continues unchanged. Would I want to go back to school properly? Only if I could take with me the knowledge — and more importantly, the armour of experience — gathered over five decades. Otherwise, no thank you. I’ll stick to my adult freedom of not doing homework and being allowed to go to the toilet without asking permission.

Read more Englishman in Dubrovnik…well, if you really want to

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About the author

Mark Thomas (aka Englez u Dubrovniku) is the editor of The Dubrovnik Times. He was born and educated in the UK and moved to live in Dubrovnik in 1998. He works across a whole range of media, from a daily radio show to TV and in print. Thomas is fluent in Croatian and this column is available in Croatia on the website – Dubrovnik Vjesnik