Working Girl

Outside, the evening music barrage has begun---a mix of Thai pop and Lao folk music backed by clucking and barking, puttering motorbikes and occasional belated New Years greetings. The sun is sinking into the golden haze over the Me Khong, which is shrinking noticeably daily. The usual vast sand bank is emerging rapidly in front of our place and lush gardens along the riverbanks march ever downwards as the waters recede.

Mornings are misty and cool, days are mild sometimes quite warm, and nights are crisp to bloody cold. Pity the poor monks and novices running around in nothing but a few orange bedsheets.

But they troop faithfully to my classes, where they are very much the stars. Teacher's pets, except that Teacher is not allowed to pet, touch or even hand anything to them, given the vows they have taken. That doesn't mean we don't have fun, as some of them are quite clever and all are sweet and have glorious smiles. As are my civilian students.

The job consumes pretty much all my time just now as I have my five evening classes every week and my two weekend double classes all of which I need to prepare for and now another 8 hours through the week of regular textbook classes, for which I don't really have to prepare anything.

I started out in a regular state of nerves, trying to churn out lesson plans and materials for my own classes, ricocheting between lessons that were too hard and others that obviously bored them stiff but it has been a very useful process as I now realise that some of the not-so-shy ones who sounded good were weak in other ways, that some of the mute terrified creatures of the first week have turned into normal speaking, contributing students. The shyness factor is huge, and they will not believe that I really mean it when I urge them to tell me anytime they don't understand.

Some can read perfectly from a text or the board, but haven't a clue what they are saying. One boy seems to be on the verge of a seizure every time I speak to him and just stares at the paper and whispers, usually the wrong answer. But then he smiles meltingly at me, offers me a lift home and carries on a coherent conversation with me all the way home. Turns out he also studies French and is only 17 years old.

Some are just plain exhausted from working all day before class, and the monks, of course, have been up since 3:45 AM praying and are living on two meals a day so it's not surprising that they yawn a bit. Others seem to be rigid with boredom, but smile enthusiastically when they see me and thank me warmly when they leave at the end of class. And sometimes, they are just plain tired from working all day, but still they trudge in to class in the big, cold, ugly, dirty building that is PasaBandith College. I have commandeered a classroom at the end of the building on the second story (first floor to non-N. Americans) and from this hideous edifice I have a stunning view of the apricot sun bathing the little pointy mountains to the southwest every evening.

I have learned to put together lessons that they seem to respond to, using reading, repeating, asking questions and a few games to keep them entertained. There is nothing I can do about the fact that there are so many levels of ability in the same class----I just try to include easy stuff, intermediate stuff and a few challenges in each lesson so they will all get something out of it. I also give them several options on the class exercises, so the bright ones can impress me.

They are very attentive and polite, but one night I divided them into teams and did a rapid fire oral quiz which was a huge success. We had a ball----and I saw them suddenly becoming competitive and really animated, even the monks.

Then during the day I teach four EEA sessions , which is a book of everyday activities, illustrated with line drawings, explaining some simple thing like playing a CD or having breakfast. We drill the vocabulary, I get them to read aloud and ask questions. I pick up grammar and pronunciation points and we do OK, but it's pretty basic. Some kids listen, some murmur among themselves, some ask good questions and really participate, speaking good English, some just titter or look blank. Of the thirty four students on the roll, 4 were there on time, another twenty drifted in over the next half hour, and some arrived an hour into the lesson.

And in the middle of class, a teacher and several student monitors trotted into the room and started checking uniforms, ties, badges etc. and ticking off the students who were not properly kitted out, sending a few off to the office to pay the latest installment of their fees. I was flabbergasted.

And this week I'll have two classes teaching New Headway, a collection of texts with questions and exercises for students. many of them are so complex and culturally inaccessible that I wonder they don't just throw the books out the window and set fire to the school in a fury of frustration.

I asked some of the other teachers about the difficulty level and they agreed with me that it was tough, but they just get the students to translate the stuff into Lao, with their dictionaries. It's pretty pathetic as a curriculum, but at least it means I don't have to worry about the quality of my lessons too much. Anything I give them is at least accurate and topical and geared specifically for them, rather than random blasts of largely incomprehensible gobbledygook from another world.

Of course, the really bright ones will benefit from any exposure to other voices and cultures,----- Hell, they'll learn a lot from reading a beer label----but for 85% of them it is really uphill work.

I cheer them up by explaining some of the cultural refernces to them, teaching them odd words, helping with pronunciation and giving them tongue twisters to practice their pronunciation.

And, yes, I finally have the visa and a Lao ID card and will presumably see my contract and work permit and my first month's pay fairly soon. The wily Mr. Ping is very nice to me, invited me to a family party for his son's birthday and I think I am considered an ornament to the organisation, being the only native speaker on staff.

And I still have a few private students as well, which may just turn out to be a bit too much, but I do enjoy those sessions of specific one-on-one work. Last week, an American tourist phoned me to say that she'd heard that I was doing tutoring and that she'd met two promising young fellows who she thought could benefit from some classes. She's paid me in advance and I'll fit their classes in around the others. One boy is quite bright, the other a bit scatty, but adorable.

OK, that's the pedagogical update. I've been so immersed the whole teaching trip that I haven't had time to do or think of much else, but now I think I have it under control so you'll hear a bit more from me about the rest of the adventure. Now I've got to get away from this computer screen for a bit! Tomorrow is Monday, and I teach from 8 to 12 AM and then again in the evening, so I think I deserve a bit of a veg-out in front of the TV.

Happy New Year to you all..............More soon....