My favourite teacher was my English instructor in the eighth grade of primary school.
He was a tall man with dark hair, broad shoulders and bushy eyebrows. He was over forty, balding with a big moustache, a round face with chubby cheeks. He used to have a very good sense of humour and vivid imagination. He was always telling jokes. He was highly intelligent but he didn't lose his temper easily with us. He was friendly and he seemed to be a very good person, he never wanted to hurt his pupils’ feelings and he taught us to be honest. The first time I saw him I thought he was very shy but when he started talking to us I realised that he was quite confident.
He made us study hard and in that academic year I think I really started learning English. We had to memorize long texts or dialogues, then we had to perform in class. I enjoyed his classes but as he was so relaxed, sometimes I fell asleep. But do not get me wrong, the classes were never dull. They were very interesting by far. He was easily the best teacher I had in primary school.