Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Chapter 5: First Day of School



"Goohd mawning teachaa"


For Westerners, Suphanburi's claim to fame is either the 10-story Chinese dragon or their wanna-be Space Needle (or CN Tower, depending on your alliances).  Neither has a bar inside.  Disappointing.


It is August, and I have barged in to my school at the end of the term like a new kid on the block.  Keep in mind, I have no idea when the end of the term actually is; Could be October, could be January.  They haven’t… told anyone yet.  The kids are teenagers, so not quite the cute devils I envisioned corrupting.  Just devils.  They even throw down the pitchfork (see above).  They talk, and talk, and talk… until you want them to talk - then they become deaf mutes.  The silence is awkward; their dark eyes just fixate on me like an alien.  And I stand there.  And I stare back, scouring the room for someone who knows what the crap “What Is Your Name?” means.  Then they smile.  And it’s all good again.  Speaking of smiles - when I walk down the outside halls, they wave and say “Hehrro, teachaa!!” and it’s just impossible not to smile and wave back.  I have never seen so many smiling faces in a classroom or school.  Not even on yearbook day.

Admittedly, it took me 10 minutes on my first day to decide which tie I wanted to wear.  Appearance over substance:  My competence is based on how I present myself.  Makes sense, right? Why would methodology, lesson planning, or communication be important for a teacher of a second language?  Or third.  Or fourth. 
Many of these kids apparently engage in Chinese and Japanese languages at the school as well.  And they can’t speak any of them.  Or they mix it.  Who knows.  Throughout my days, I listen to the Thai teachers teaching English.  It takes a good 10-15 seconds to realize what language it actually is.  They are wonderful, bless their hearts, at grammar and sentence structure.   The kids can identify a noun like nobody’s business.  Ask them to speak it?  Silence.. stare.. smile.  :)

I had a rather incorrect preconceived notion of what the students would be like before I got here: well mannered, silent, diligent, assembly line status - all uniform.  But, alas, the only consistency in existence are the uniforms themselves:  White shirts, navy blue skirts/shorts, and the haircuts.  Right below the ear for girls (bangs mandatory), and ½ inch long for boys. 

The school itself is, miraculously, almost as non-expressive and monotonous.  Like any institutional trap in the States, color is almost nonexistent, amenities are basic (squat-toilets and no A/C?), and the grounds are surrounded by giant used-to-be-white walls topped with barbed wire for good measure.  Certainly, no intruder would voluntarily want in, so I assume this is to keep the students from getting out. 

I teach 14 different one-hour classes per week, and have no intention of asking for more.  I use the same lesson plan for every class that week, and my goal is for them to be able to introduce themselves, tell me how they feel, how to get somewhere, what they like, don’t like, and maybe order food or tell time.  Trust me, it’s all more ambitious than it sounds.


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