Changes

The last couple of weeks have offered a more flexible schedule, as the students have had a short break. More time has allowed for some new experiences (I’ll write more about Happy Khmer New Year and Tour de Cambodia on the Mekong Express later) and the absence of kids has given me more time with the teachers at the school and in their… salons.

We were able to conduct English classes daily, and I was also able to work with the teachers – not formal “teacher training,” but a series of guided discussions and attempts to come up with solutions for existing problems. What a valuable experience – certainly an opportunity for mutual growth. It was so interesting to learn how the teachers approach discipline, classroom management, and instruction. It was important, yet challenging, for me to understand their way of thinking and to work forward from their perspectives. I knew I couldn’t simply tell them what to do differently, because they wouldn’t have taken any ownership.. and who am I to try to assume that power anyway? There were so many questions for me as the person leading the training – I’ve seen different systems, policies, programs and strategies, but does it mean that they would work in this environment and culture? Does it mean that they are the best solutions for this school, this staff, these kids? I also realized that introducing a new idea is easy, but getting a group of people to understand it the same way and put it into practice is entirely different. I guess it’s like any change - it has to mean something to the individual or it's not worth the discomfort, the struggle. I understand that exercise is important, but it doesn’t make dragging my body out of bed at 5:30 AM to go for a run any easier (so I don’t, for the record). Change is difficult. And working through this process in two languages is very difficult.
The great thing is that the teachers here are excited to learn – they want to have better relationships with the students, and they want to use different forms of discipline… that aren’t modeled after nuns in the 1970’s. They really love the students and have so much hope for their future success; as a result, they feel a great deal of pressure and responsibility. They shared their frustrations and failures – something I avoid doing if at all possible in order to save face, and something that hasn't been communicated until now. I could relate in so many ways, and shared some of my own fears as a teacher. I don't like doing that either, but there we were, getting open. I asked them to think beyond what they were currently doing - to consider other possibilities, and they said they couldn't. We reached a new level of honesty, and then they were looking to me for answers. That's not the role I wanted, so I told them I didn’t have all the answers, but I wanted to work on finding them together. I really don't have the answers - I'm not an administrator, and I've only been part of this system for three monthes. It was humbling and a little scary, but it’s exciting to see change, however small.

There have been changes outside of work as well. The women at school kept mentioning my need for a new look – everyone here has long, straight hair, and I don’t think they thought my messy, frizzy mop was aesthetically pleasing. I was wondering what to do myself… as the humidity increased, so did the volume of every wild strand. It was looking a little medusa-ish . So I thought, “When in Rome!” Lily, my colleague and fashion consultant, took me to a beauty salon down the street from the school to permanently straighten my hair. A reverse perm? The experience was a lot like filming the Asian version of Steel Magnolias for half the day. I didn’t know why it would take so long when I was told to block out my morning and afternoon, but this extended schedule included negotiations with the street vendors, a quick run to the market and a break for fish and rice. The shop had pink lace curtains and pictures of Cambodian royalty framed in gold. The smell of chemicals knocked me over. The normal gossip with the hairdresser was going on around me, but of course all I could do was smile awkwardly for seven hours and apologize for not understanding instructions to tilt my head. Of course they were talking about me, but they just smiled back. I was not to wash or bind my hair for three days – which in this climate is true torture. By day three it looked like I swapped mousse with bacon grease. It was worth it, though. The teachers and students are now happy with my appearance. Over and over they said, “Today you are beautiful.” I’m going to pretend that comment didn’t imply that I have been ugly for the first three months of my stay. Either way, despite my height and "strong" build, I feel more Cambodian already.