Learning Curve

Like everything else, the first day of school was not what I expected.  I was told that the students were going to receive books, and we would introduce ourselves.  I didn't see a book, the principal, a schedule, or roster all day.  The students arrived and lined up by grade and gender.  A teacher told them something in Khmer, and everyone started going to classrooms.  I asked where I was supposed to go, and a teacher said, "first."  There are two first grades, so I went into the one with no adult.  There were about 20 students sitting on wooden benches.  I began by saying, "Good morning.  I don't know what to do." 

I taught them how to say, "Hello!"  They repeated it in unison and copied my hand wave.  I said, "My name is teacher Kerri" in Khmer and then in English.  They all cried out, "My name is teacher Kerri."  O.K...That didn't go as planned.  Next, I taught them how to say, "How are you?"  "Wonderful!" 

I decided to make a seating chart and asked each student their name in Khmer.  They shyly whispered their name.  Some had to repeat it several times before I could understand.  The chart is not totally accurate because some of the students started changing seats midway through.  Then, I walked to each desk and taught them, "My name is (their name). 

At this point, a Cambodian assistant arrived to help me.  I asked her to tell the students to write their name on one side of a name card, and I would write it in English on the other side.  She said, "They don't know how to write their name."  Oh, duh!  Right.  This is their first class ever.

I sent the assistant in search of some chalk, and we practiced writing the letter, A, on the chalk board.  Suddenly, the class started saying the alphabet in unison.  What?  Where did they learn that?

The children have very different personalities.  One girl is very bright and outgoing.  She gave me a piece of gum and a sticker.  I think she is the teacher's pet.  Another girl was so shy that refused to talk for the first hour.  Only some of them arrived with paper and a pencil.

A pack of mothers stood just outside the door and watched the entire time.  At 10:30, I was told that school was over.  There is some sort of holiday, so we don't have class again until Tuesday. 

Cynthia and I walked to the wat and monastery in the afternoon.  We attended the Buddhist equivalent of church.  We sat on the floor, facing the psychedelic Buddha shrine while everyone chanted in Khmer.  Then, we turned to face the monks who lit some incense and flicked it into the crowd.  One of my students was there, and he sat by me and kept peeking at his weird white teacher.