Outside Learning

I remember my elementary school days being full of creative projects and hands-on experiments. We watched butterflies emerge from cocoons, constructed geometric kites, listened to stories read in character voices. We turned the room into a paper Amazon jungle (surely a fire hazard), held silent auctions of our old toys, feasted as Robin Hood and his Merry Men, made our own story books. Of course, we also memorized multiplication tables, practiced writing in cursive, learned all those basics. But it wasn’t only sitting and listening to the teacher; it was learning through discovery and experience.

As an elementary and kindergarten teacher in a foreign country, I am witnessing firsthand just how varied the approaches to education can be from culture to culture. As young as first grade, Thai students are expected to spend a great portion of their school day sitting in a desk and being taught lecture-style. From the age of three up through high school graduation, copying and repeating are the standard methods for information transfer. Math, science, English, students copy the answers off the board. It is assumed that they have then learned said information. There will be a test. I hope you were listening.

Of course, the enjoyable part of school for most students is all the extras – art, dance, gym, swimming – and the Thai school system has those in spades. In this department, the Thais go far beyond, holding special events, activities, camps, and holiday celebrations on a regular basis.

Over the course of the past semester, the classroom sitting has been interspersed with more holidays than you would think could fit into four months. Before Christmas, not a single week passed without some special event or activity to prepare for a special event; since Christmas, we have had two undisrupted weeks of class (though I, personally, have had at least three classes per week cancelled to rehearse for a play for next week’s special event); through the remainder of the school year, only one week has nothing special or cancelled.

Between Thai holidays, American holidays, and school events, the activities list is pretty impressive. So far we have had:

•  A Halloween party -- a wonderful way to have first graders come up, hold out their hand, and say “Teacher, candy” or “Trick-or-treat” for months to come
•  Sports Days – from football to chair ball to tug of war, plus a fairly impressive parade
• Three weeks of shortened days to prep for the Sports Days
•  A field trip to the local science discovery center, complete with a busload of students dancing to Thai pop songs
• Loy Kratong
•  The King’s birthday, which doubles as Father's Day
•  Constitution Day – tinted with irony this year, as parliament was dissolved just days prior
• An open house for the kindergarten
• Christmas – literally weeks of activities and parties

• New Year’s Eve/Day – huge holiday in Thai culture
• Midterms – okay, not really an event, but definitely an interruption to regular classes
• Children’s Day – let’s dance, eat free ice cream, and drink free Fanta
• Boy and Girl Scout Camp – walking field trip, camping at school (for the 6^th grade), lessons in knot-tying, first aid, crawling through tunnels, and generally getting prepared
• Teachers’ Day – One of multiple days to honor teachers, for this one school is closed. Best way to reward teachers for their hard work

Which brings us to this week, during which time everyone is preparing for next week’s Open House. My January has been packed with rehearsals of Snow White and Little Red Riding Hood, which my 63 first graders will perform for the evening portion of the Open House.

The only remaining activities are:

• The aforementioned Open House and evening Khantoke dinner for parents (traditional Northern Thai Lanna dishes in endless portions, shared among the table, while watching performances)
• Promotional Drive for CVK – literally a drive, as we foreign teachers join other faculty members in driving to other districts to hand out pamphlets and try to increase enrollment
• Valentine’s Day – the Thais love love. And they love giving gifts. It’s the perfect storm of a holiday
• Makha Bucha (Magha Puja) – Theravada Buddhist holiday celebrating the arrival of 1250 monks to listen to the teachings of the Buddha.
• Final Exams – the end.

Between all of the reasons to cancel class and the fact that class is mostly spent zoning out while the teacher talks (even the best student can only listen for so long), the difference between Thai school and American school is stark.

Through the activities they learn how to become members of a team, how to dance, how to do craft projects, how to be a member of Thai society, but they do not necessarily learn how to be good students. After all, we were all, in some manner, taught how to learn and how to work hard. I have greatly enjoyed being a part of the Thai school system, but I think they could bring some of that spice and variety, seen so heavily in their activities, into the classroom.

That being said, fault them for what you will, but the Thais sure do know how to throw one helluva party.

Conservation, Captivity

There is something about zoos that is at once inherently sad, yet touches on our most basic curiosities. For many people, a captive environment is the only place they will get an up-close view of certain animals. It gives us a glimpse of their otherwise mysterious behavior, sounds, and activities – bewildering, endearing, dangerous, intelligent.

A tapir’s searching snout, the rambunctiousness of baby raccoons. Jaguars stretching in enlarged mimicry of the average housecat, the familial resemblance in the depth of primate eyes, the familiar fingers. The elegant span of a peacock tail, a toucan’s splendid multi-colored beak, iguanas lounging in streams of sunlight. Without seeing this beauty, would we have the desire to preserve it, to ensure its continued existence? Would it be vital, or merely background noise, the faraway cry of something disconnected from our selves?

Zoos educate visitors and can provide a sometimes necessary tool for conservation, protection and propagation of species, provided that there is adequate space and cleanliness, as well as proper treatment. But, when does our innate curiosity and desire to help cross the line from conservation and education into the realm of mere captivity and entertainment? What is protection and conservation? How little space is too little, how many animal roommates too many?

In El Valle’s Nispero Zoo, as in many zoos across the globe, this fine line is walked. However, tucked away within the zoological property, and funded in part by visitor admission fees to the zoo as a whole, resides a conservation project absolutely essential to the survival of some of the country’s most emblematic and endangered amphibian species.

The area surrounding Panama’s El Valle provides the habitat for an astounding (but dwindling) variety of amphibians, including the national symbol for conservation, Rana Dorada, or the Golden Frog. However, due to an invasive fungus that has been wiping out the area frogs, the number of species has dropped from 68 to 40 in recent years.

In an attempt to stem the losses, the fine folks at the El Valle Amphibian Conservation Center have taken to rescuing infected frogs, toads, and salamanders and treating them with an anti-fungal solution. This led to the development of a clean room atmosphere in which to house the amphibians, as well as an education and exhibition room, at least until some sort of solution to the spreading fungus is discovered and the frogs can be released back into their natural habitat.

Frogs, particularly the tropical variety, are infinitely variable and fascinating. Such spectrum of color, from vibrant and dangerous to subtle, earthy disguise. Massive, bulbous eyes and globular fingers and toes hide within their environment, tucked away in leaves, blending in or providing sharp contrast.

I, for one, am proud to visit the local exhibits, the fruit of conservation efforts to protect native creatures. But, without the surrounding zoo, and the ethical dilemmas that go hand-in-hand with a zoo’s existence, would the conservation center remain afloat?

Without a simple answer, I will at least try to direct my money in the way of conservation rather than entertainment, preservation rather than exploitation. Because, should we deny our animal brethren a helping hand, their entire future could be in peril.

Caffeinated

Rich and aromatic, dark and velvety. Even as someone who drinks very little coffee, I can appreciate a good cup o’ joe. And, seeing as coffee is second only to oil in global exports, I am clearly not the only one. When it comes to getting a cup of high quality coffee or espresso, there are few places in the world better than the rolling green hills, crisscrossed and sectioned, of Colombia’s Zona Cafetera.

Colombia, home of the world-recognized (fictional) Juan Valdez, is number two in global coffee exports and the number one producer of Arabica, the world’s highest quality coffee. The label ‘Colombian Coffee’ has become synonymous with excellence. So, we made it a list item to tour a coffee farm (or ‘finca’) and see what the fuss was about.

The tour of a local, family-run coffee finca outside of Manizales was conducted entirely in Spanish, and, despite our speaking skills not being up to par, we had a surprisingly easy time understanding the majority of what our guide was explaining. She led us through the entire planting process, from tiny roots to fruit to roasted coffee beans, while showing us each part of the process on the sprawling coffee plantation.

Win tried his hand at being a coffee laborer, searching each branch for only the ripe, red fruit, plucking them individually, and watching his bucket as it filled at an unbelievably slow pace. The life of these workers, going from farm to farm, making a living one kilogram at a time, cannot be easy. Yet, it is an integral step in the process, a process that supports vast swathes of Colombia’s people.

Incredible time and consideration goes into each step of the process, ensuring that the years of work that lead up to an individual harvest aren’t wasted. Colombia’s coffee farms are outstanding in their emphasis on organic, hand-picked crops, ensuring the absolute highest quality in the finished product. 

They are proud of the fact that they do not use machines for harvests, that they rely on original sorting methods (does it float?) for separating good beans from bad. They are proud that they are careful about what fuel is used for roasting and what bags for storing to prevent flavor contamination. They know that size matters, and sort the coffee beans as such. The coffee growers know what works, and it is this human touch that distinguishes Colombian coffee as some of the world’s finest.

Buenos Días, Colombia

And we’re off again.

After a summer in our hometown of Albuquerque – enjoying first world comforts, hating first world prices, soaking up some beautiful high desert weather, spending quality time with old friends and new, stockpiling money, a whirlwind east coast visit with family – we have set our sights on a new continent.

It was an incredibly open-ended job hunt – Turkey? Indonesia? Bhutan? Costa Rica? Cameroon? Ethiopia? – leading us to settle on Latin America. Faced with dishearteningly low pay compared to teaching in Asia, our options were few (though job opening were numerous). Immediately, the volunteer jobs that want volunteers to pay were ruled out. The remaining options were a high-paying job in a capital city teaching business English six days a week or a low-paying job in a rural school. We went for hidden Option D: working four days a week in exchange for room, board, and Spanish lessons.

And sometimes, following instinct rather than money pays off in a big way.

Our instinct has led us to Olits Insitituto de Idiomas in Ocaña, Colombia. The school is new; students are few and classes small for now.  Olits is run by a couple, German Christine and Colombian Camilo. Along with Christine (and their two children), we are the only foreigners in all of Ocaña. Possibly this little bit of celebrity will help the school to grow.

So, here we are, in Ocaña. Built in among the landscape, the houses tier up and down hills, stacked like blocks, all terracotta roofs and beautiful balconies. Buildings crowd up to tight winding streets, restaurants, churches, and shops interspersed with the residential. Spanish rattles all around us, still indecipherable, but becoming more intelligible.

Language is shared, taught, practiced. And through this exchange, our international family grows ever bigger.

Kop Khun Kah

Thank you, Thailand, for eighteen wonderful months. Thank you for costing so little, but offering so much. Thank you for people so friendly and open. Thank you for incredible students, co-workers, and pets. Thank you for little bananas, sweet sweet mangoes, and introducing me to mangosteen. Thank you for monkeys and tigers and geckos (oh my!). Thank you for locals who draw eyebrows on cats and put T-shirts on dogs.

Thank you for helping me to become both an English teacher and a Yoga teacher. Thank you for cheap food and beer. Thank you for tuk-tuks and third class trains. Thank you for squat toilets and cold showers (because what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger).Thank you for "Thai time" and total chaos.

But mostly, thank you for helping me to triumph over Western pitfalls of stress and worry. Thank you for forcing me outside of my comfort zone, it has made all the difference.

Where the Magic Happens

Far too often, we get so caught up in the day-to-day nature of life and end up ensnared by routine. We become so comfortable that life becomes stagnant, rather than dynamic. In the last month, some of the best things I have done have been those things that I wouldn’t have expected to find myself doing: blindfolded yoga practice, for example. There's something incredible about taking a moment, every day, or maybe just once a week or once a month, to do something you wouldn’t ordinarily do.

Go to a restaurant by yourself. Confront a fear. Brush your teeth left-handed. Learn a new language, even if you may never use it. Drive on the opposite side of the road (you may need to move to a different country first). Pick things up with your toes instead of your hands. Tell someone you love them. Take a class doing something you think you can’t learn, and learn how to do it. Do a somersault. Lie in the grass, or dirt, or leaves, or even just carpet. Dance like you never learned any dance moves. Tell yourself that you’re beautiful. Learn to take a compliment. Use your imagination for something other than worrying.

If you spend all your time doing things that are ordinary, you’ll never experience something truly extraordinary.

Team Spirit

After a month of preparation – practice, tournaments, sweat, injuries, construction, choreography, and three weeks of half-days of class – C.V.K. was ready for Sports Day. And they were gonna do it right. The students were split into five color-specific teams, spread over the entire age range of the school: red, blue, green, white, and yellow, representing pre-K through high school seniors. And, Sports “Day” was really two days made up of all sorts of (very) different events.

Day One:

The full-sized football (yes, I do mean soccer) field was divided widthwise, allowing four games to be played simultaneously. In one game, the sixth graders, decked out in fancy gear, played an intense game of soccer. They played like their legos depended on it, the whole weight of their color resting on their shoulders.

At the same time, three games of handball were occurring. As an American, I had never seen handball before; seemingly handball is just soccer for those who prefer throwing and bouncing instead of kicking (with a little bit of monkey-in-the-middle mixed in for good measure). It also uses basketball rules, preventing players from simply grabbing the ball and running. With three games being played at once, balls were flying into other games, evoking a sense of pure chaos for spectators.

Practiced during the class-less, lawless afternoons preceding Sports Day, but seemingly absent from the festivities (and surely deserving of mention) was Chairball. Resembling short-range basketball, chairball has one big twist. The traditional basketball hoop is replaced by a team member standing on a chair, holding a laundry basket over his or her head. Clearly, they can do their best to assist their team by moving to catch the ball, but they face much more pressure than a stoic, metal basketball hoop has ever known. Popular with the elementary school kids, chairball is far more entertaining than your typical basketball game.

Not to be left out, the kindergarten carried on Sports Day activities of its own. The main event: tug-of-war! There might be nothing cuter than eighty toddlers, donning hats made from recycled milk cartons, flower headbands, sequins and makeup, playing a massive game of tug-of-war. Unless of course, after so many games, all that tension and tugging, the rope, pulled taut, snaps directly in the middle, sending each side’s tiny tuggers flying into a flat, domino-ed pile. The way they all bounced up, made of rubber, brushed off their knees and ran to the canteen for lunch, was equally adorable.

Day Two:

Friday was the real deal: official Sports Day. Cheer stands had been constructed. The band and junior band were prepped and ready to play. A parade had been planned: floats built, costumes rented, faces painted, and hair elaborately styled.

The parade was painstakingly elaborate, the student-powered floats massive. Each team color had come up with their own individual theme, ranging from Victorian Era, to traditional Thai, to something showcasing a massive, red demon. Confusing, delightful and bizarre, the students mixed in costumes and props as they saw fit. There were costumes including what I can only assume were colorful condoms, Thai slaves, some gender-swapping prince/princess combos, and hill tribe-themed dancers.

Each team had not only its own parade section, but a cheer stand, with color-coordinated decorations and two sets of cheerleaders, one elementary and one senior high. The choreography, with crowd participation, was impressively mastered, the costumes flashy and loud. It seemed to be more about team spirit, screaming, shouting, glittery team spirit, than about the sporting events themselves.

The events leading up to the grand finale football game were mostly toddler-oriented. There was a relay race in which adults ran while carrying pre-schoolers, a three-legged race where adults were tied to small children, and a big-wheel race that mostly ended with the little kids riding around in circles.

Despite the oddity of all the sporting events, Sports Day was a huge success. Win and I, both on the blue team, represented our color proudly. Blue sunglasses, bubble necklace, dragon crocs, skirt, shoes, earrings, and hats. We rocked blue hard.

Blue vs. Green. Red vs. White. Yellow vs. Blue. Red vs. Yellow. White vs. Green. The whole thing was a chaotic jumble of running, screaming, and pom-poms. It was a high-energy, high-excitement day, but I have absolutely no idea who won any of the games.