November 2006
"There's something I want to do," I announced to my husband as we sat one evening tucking into an ASK pizza.
"Oh, yes?"
(Big breath) "I want to go to Cambodia next summer, on my own, and do some teaching."
And that's how it all started, one November evening, last year. There I was, a teacher of 30 years, with 3 grown up sons, about to embark on, what was, for me, A Very Big Adventure.
So, rather than writing about the experience retrospectively, I have decided to include some extracts from e - mails I sent during this period which, I think, capture a better sense of the ‘immediacy' of this rather unique experience (watch how the class size changes in the course of the e-mails!):
Thursday, 12th July, 2007.
First days
Just survived my second day at school; what an experience!
My day begins when I mount my mean machine (no gears, repaired puncture, a stand that needs a firm kick) and set off to brave the Siem Reap rush hour. For those of you unfamiliar with the traffic set up here, you simply point your vehicle in the appropriate direction and go for it!
My school, Sway Dong Kum, is only a 5-10 minute ride away from the centre but what a ride it is! Once down the side road, any hard surface quickly deteriorates into the all familiar terracotta coloured dirt track (or mud, it being monsoon season!) I just love cycling along here with its cacophony of children, dogs and people calling out "Hello!" to this strange white woman with a bulging bag on her back. The track is lined with a mixture of houses, food stalls, and promises of to ‘do your laundry', all interspersed with piles of plastic bagged rubbish and sodden fields of green stagnant water gently steaming in the heat.
The school itself is a single storey L-shaped concrete building. The classrooms have tall ceilings and are quite dark with the shutters being semi-closed to help protect against the heat. A permanent layer of dust seems to coat everything. The children sit at old wooden desks which would not look out of place in a Dickens' dramatisation with their dark wood and attached seats. The doors are left open to all and sundry; a dog joined us for part of a lesson today!
I am teaching three classes of varying ages and abilities. My youngest pupil can be no more than three years old! She is brought in by her big sister each day and sits at the desk, curled up to her sister, sucking her thumb and never uttering a word. Fortunately for me, the classes are rarely over 30 at present because some of the children are working in the paddy fields (a mother came into a lesson today and took her daughter away to help in the fields).
The children are absolutely delightful! They look very sweet in their school uniforms of white shirts and navy skirts' trouser - even though many of the tops are from white and have holes in them They love any sort of game (Bingo appears to be a favourite) and are keen to help ‘t'cher' in any way they can. Discipline is not a problem.
My problem, as anticipated, is trying to learn their names! Some of the children cannot even write their names in Khmer and, because Khmer has sounds unique to its own language, it's a nightmare trying to write the names phonetically! I'm in the process of taking all their photos so I can have some ‘mug shots' to help me. Of course, they think this is wonderful, especially being able to see the result instantly on the digi camera!
Saturday, 28th July, 2007
More tales out of school
I'm about to enter my 4th week of being here and feel very much at home with the increasingly familiar surroundings of Siem Reap. It's funny how much the school has become such a normal part of life. I've now come to accept that although I have accumulated 42 different names on the register for one class, it is unlikely that I will see more than 35 at a time. Children who were there for the first few lessons have never been seen again (ominous!) while 'new' faces are constantly turning up.
As the end of term approaches and work demands on the land increase, attendance is increasingly sporadic. Then there are those who help their parents in the eating places in the town. It's no good getting frustrated; you just have to accept that as far as education goes, there are still things of greater importance for many of these people - even though they still want to learn English.
The children continue to delight. There is a refreshing naivety and charm in which they take such pleasure in singing songs like 'One shoulder, one head..' ‘Five little Ducks' (all with actions, of course) and playing ‘Snakes and Ladders' and ‘Simon Says'. I made masks with one class on Friday ; what excitement that generated when they saw the glitter and sparklies!
Meanwhile, the odd younger sibling continues to accompany older brothers and sisters, pupils from other classes stand in the doorway or lean through the glassless window to see what is going on, while the odd child from a class I have just taught, will appear for a 'second' English class of the day! It's all very enchanting.
Saturday 4th August, 2007
Chopsticks
It was when I walked in and saw three to a desk that my heart missed a beat. The very last lesson with this particular class and I had decided to make masks with them - a success with a previous class, I had decided it would be worth a repeat performance. So, the previous night, I had sat in my room patiently cutting out 40 butterfly shape masks which, by my reckoning would be adequate for the usual 30-35 attendance. It quickly became apparent that, with three to a desk, there were obviously more than the anticipated number. Just as I had started a head count, in walked the headmistress. Now this is one of the stranger aspects of the Cambodians: delightful, gentle, considerate people, once they take on any authoritarian role, it seems, to my Western ear, they can only address their counterparts by rattling out commands in their short, monosyllabic way. Anyway, It seemed the children hadn't actually done anything wrong; it was just that she wanted to give them their end of year reports - and, obviously, this explained why faces appeared today I'd never seen before.
Anyway, as the reports were rattled out, I quickly did a head count and realised that the class had hit that mythical 60 about which I had heard so much. Panicking somewhat, I was relieved to discover on rummaging in my back pack that I had some sugar paper - not quite as good as the coloured card but it was better than nothing!! So, a few more cut outs and by the time the headmistress had completed her onslaught, we were all ready to start sticking on the sequins and various sparklies.
The next problem was that of the chopsticks. (I am not an Art/ Craft person; simplicity is the theme for me!) Thus, when the question arose as to how the kiddies were actually going to wear the masks, I'd hit upon the idea of taping a single chopstick on the back of the mask so that it could then be held up to the face. Brilliant - except that I hadn't allowed for the fact that floppy sugar paper would require two chopsticks in order to create some form of rigidity. So, out came the chopsticks and more counting......Outcome? Well, as far as I know, this story had a happy ending in that a lot of sparkly faced children were to be seen disappearing down the dirt track an hour later. For my part, I cannot even begin to tell you how much sweat was dripping off me as I waved my last good bye!
And final thoughts? Well, I never thought I would get weepy over children after such a short time. They were all such a delight, such fun and so easy to teach. Happy to share, co operate and work as a team, general classroom management was a dream. Organising such things as drawing up a giant Snakes and Ladders board in the playground was easy: no grabbing or pushing and shoving; the children worked as a team, drawing out the grid lines, the snakes and the ladders. They were so good that I hadn't got the heart to penalise anybody who counted in Khmer rather than English!
Post script:
Twelve months later, I can honestly say that not a day goes by when I do not think about Cambodia, the warm friendly people and the delightful beautiful children I had the privilege (for, yes, that is what is was) to teach at Sway Dong Kum school.
Thank you!