In a Thai north east province, far far away...

It seems I’m suited to an extended educational ramble, so I hope this finds you in the right mood...

Mechai Bamboo  School, Buriram Province, Thailand (January 16th to April 1st  2017) 

In a Thai north east province, far far away, there stood a lush green land of delicate bamboo and coconut palms; of lily pads stretching beneath mango trees and parallel streams, loaded with burning bright koi fish, running under small stone bridges. As night time falls, there rises the rhythmic swell of giant croaks and clicks, all pulsing together to orchestrate a symphony of the many to the one. At times, as if suddenly flicked on, an urgent electric current overrides all else, with its battering sonic wave from the trees - the cicadas pulsate their collective alarm: ‘this is happening now – we are happening now!’they screech. 

My lodgings - affects the feng shui?

My room... neat eh?

Such snapshots of a tropical nature, are found within this beautiful oasis called Mechai Bamboo School, which are as abundant as they are arresting. Cutting through these, other more familiar sounds co-exist: of young voices and ukuleles, of laughter and playful volleyball shouts. Because this is also a thriving school for young people between the ages of 13 and 19, who live and study here to achieve their best before embarking upon adult life. This place really is an idyllic home from home.  

  

A typical day runs like, this, *deep breath:

·         From 5am - wake up and wash (but if they are like I was, they leave this until the last few minutes!) 

·         6:30am  -  Praying and meditation, under Buddhist principles, in the Mechai Club (the heart of the school)

·         7am Breakfast in the canteen, followed by duties (such as sweeping the leaves from paths with an ekel broom)

·         8am to 8:50am  - first lesson

students eating their dinner

·         8:55 to 9:45am - second lesson

·         9:45 to 10:05 - break, with a snack (I like the oily green ‘lotus leaves’!)

·         10:05 to  10:55 – third lesson

·         11:00 to 11:50 – forth lesson 

·         11:50 to 12:30pm  lunchtime

·         12:30 to 1:20pm – fifth lesson

·         1:25pm to 2:15pm –final sixth lesson

·         2:15pm to 2:30pm – students sing their national anthem, in neat uniform lines, while 2 students raise the flag at the front. Afterwards, there is are short announcements made by teachers and staff.

Singing the National Anthem at 2:15pm
each day, in the Bamboo Sports Dome

·         2:30pm to 4pm – outside agricultural work, in groups working on particular areas

·         4pm to 5pm – free time, or swimming classes (I instruct some of these too)

·         5pm – dinner time, in the canteen.

·         6pm – Assembly in the Mechai Club, to talk about the day’s activities and evaluating the day. Often there are guest speakers, or arrangements to sort out for the following day.

Fish: You're not eating me with rice
again, are you?

·         6:30 to 7:30pm – homework time

·         7:30pm  back to boarding houses, or attending late clubs (such as ukulele, or computers)

·         9pm – lights out

Students go out to local schools every Wednesday, on their '
School Bird' , to help children less privileged than themselves. 

Each teacher’s timetable has many free periods, in true ‘PPA’ style, as well as to complete other duties. Some endearingly take a nap on the staffroom sofa, or even lay their heads down at their desks (imagine the indignation this would arouse in our own country! How dare they!?)  Yet the permanent teaching staff take turns to have a ‘duty day’, where they are on call all-day, including weekends, and stay the night in the large dormitory, (for the girls only). I’ve heard stories of hospital visits at 3am, but it’s teaching as normal the next day. Saturday is also considered a work day, and so Sunday remains the only free day for staff, but not if they are on ‘duty’. (Seems like a little kip on the side is the least that can be permitted).

Cycling is cool here too

The students certainly get more free time on the weekends, particularly on Sunday, but often activities are arranged, and they still have homework to complete too. Quite a few engage in wonderful art projects, some collaboratively, which are incredible in their detail and shading precision. For fear of sounding like a luddite, I wouldn’t dare lament the erosion of this kind of artistic dexterity back at home in the UK - a sacrosanct channel that runs from the brain to our fingertips. Better to cut and paste, right?

A map of their school drawn and painted by students  

"A New Dawn in Rural Thai Education"

View from the girl's dormitory. And what I
imagine the land looked like 30 years ago. 

The school itself has grown out of its parent organisation, The Mechai Foundation, (http://www.mechaifoundation.org) which has, for over four decades, fought the need for improved family planning as well as to increase the awareness of sexually transmitted infections (STIs) throughout Thailand. With its over-arching aim - to empower rural Thai communities to become self-sufficient - the Bamboo School has been a natural development, opening its doors just 8 years ago. In fact, 30 years ago, when the land was first purchased, it was just flooded land. Since then, it has been moulded into a lush watery paradise, with modern learning facilities.

The well kitted-out music room.

Swimming pool, quite a boon!

The school aims to select students from all over Thailand who have shown ambitions to be leaders and innovators within their own communities, at some point in their future. This is a far stronger prerequisite for selection than simply demonstrating evidence of academic success, at the primary level. (I have to say, I warmed to this immediately; academic achievement is not a precursor to empathy and compassion).
Even more novel, is that the students themselves interview the young candidates, with their parents, and are clear on what qualities to look out for, thus strengthening these qualities in themselves, I would argue. Finally, fees are not set in monetary terms, but comprise of contributing a total of 400 hours of community service and also planting 400 trees each year, by both parents and students. The idea is that there is no point in families getting into serious debt by stumping up the fees, which would be counter-productive to their communities. Instead, wealthy patrons sponsor students, who in turn write letters of thanks. Additionally, there is sponsorship and contributions gained from wealthy organisations and other benefactors, such as Alan Hassenfeld, (one half of the Hasbro corporation), which have even financed the construction of buildings, including the swimming pool and the boys dormitory. These days, the school receives groups of visitors almost every day; the staff and students have grown very skilled at showing these people around. (Part of my English tuition, has been the need to accommodate this particular idiosyncrasy). Students here teach visiting students how to turn their hand to good agricultural practises, and are very skilled at playing games to welcome them and form friendships.

socialising is important, with a good
view, naturally. 

Meditation moment, boys catching up, after being late in.
(Notice the cardboard cut-out of Mechai watching over?)  

It has been possible to see that the confidence of the students here is comparably greater than their peers, educated in other local rural schools, also in the Lam Plai Mat district. Every Wednesday, the students go out en-masse to visit schools, which is called ‘School Bird’. They help to teach and strengthen relationships, and even take along their ukuleles to play a song or two. I enjoyed seeing them play volleyball, and not just separating off into their respective school teams, but neatly mixing up the teams, so that their competitiveness did not compromise the greater priority of forging a relationship with the other school. (Could this be an alternative model for a ‘friendly’ match, between local-area partnership schools in the UK?)  

Khun Mechai himself visiting - in the Mechai Club

Another aspect worthy of note, is the confidence and ease with which LGB students here can fit in and just be themselves. Neither I, nor any of my colleagues (when I enquired), have experienced any bullying related to this issue. And simply by the extroverted behaviours on display, one can deduce easily enough that these students are not intimidated into an introverted mode of behaviour, so commonly seen in UK secondary schools. Sadly, bullying on this issue, and indeed regressions into more misogynistic and machismo behaviours seem to be occurring at an ever-more frequent rate, particularly in the more deprived boroughs and districts of state-school education. (See: Plan International UK, report by Lucy Russell, for more information on this:  https://plan-uk.org/ ). In such gloomy light, I - for one - smile widely when a Grade 8 boy here, on the more flamboyant side of the ‘pink’ spectrum, can confidently apply his red lippy with a Beyoncé twirl, before dragging chopped mango logs with the rest of his class – now that's pure class! 

Lam Plai Mat town 10 minutes drive

A quarter of the staffroom, for relaxing

Since arriving here, I’ve had a real chance to ease into the Thai way. That is to say: let’s just roll along, walk at a steady pace, smile at each person you pass, and perhaps pick up a ukulele, while you wait for others to stick to a pre-arranged time, (the last phrase, being as alien an idea here as bobsleighing!) And, needless to say, I had to quickly jettison the crusty teacher-looking-disappointed-at-their-watch face, when students drifted in to the lesson a little late. Admittedly, there has been a touch of the ‘if you can’t beat them...’ syndrome, but this is not wholly a negative thing, at least not in the short-term. By not spending valuable energy getting frustrated or cramming learning into every available 5 minutes (ring a bell?), I can actually teach in a more open, relaxed and natural way, which (who’d have thought) helps promote a more positive relationship with my students as well as with the other teachers. With this in mind, I love teaching English here (and swimming, and anything else, in fact). I can be as creative as I want; I have the freedom to think ‘off the cuff’; I can draft a plan quickly, thinking about how to progress from the previous session, (and not obsess over collecting assessment data, or quality marking). What’s more, in exploring everyday language, it’s possible to laugh over the everyday things, the small and the silly, the situations and mistakes that we all make.

Giant pots, painted by Grade 10s

Small groups -lots of speaking and listening

Afterwards, with their charming ‘Thank you Teacher!’ that’s always bellowed in chorus, I really enjoy sharing in their satisfaction of the good learning that’s taken place. (Today, we explored the lyrics to Lennon’s ‘Imagine’ and it was a great session). In short, I am given the autonomy and the trust to do my job, and I really enjoy it, and I am allowed to be good at it. I wonder if Britain will ever get to the stage where it will finally trust its own state-school teachers, and allow them just to be? (Yet, perhaps this is an unrealistic hope, given the need to replenish dwindling stocks at an even more swift and open rate, as more and more burned-out victims of the system feel forced to leave. And doesn’t this, by plaintive default, constitute precisely the opposite strategy of Finland’s education system, whereby only the best and most talented are recruited and then entrusted to get on with their job?

Classroom (grade 12)

Also here, there is a marked difference to some fundamental cultural practises, which are worth investigating further. For instance, every person acknowledges each other person with a respectful ‘wai’, and often more than once a day. This involves placing both hands together, in a prayer-like gesture and, while saying the Thai words for ‘Hello’, inclining the head slightly too. I’ve noticed that this is done between students too, and not just as a marker of respect for a person holding a superior position.  This type of greeting is common to other Asian cultures too, even in Sri Lanka, where I saw it less frequently. But there remains something intrinsically respectful about acknowledging another person in this way, which the West has long dismissed (perhaps in favour of ‘efficiency savings’?). I, for one, like to think that it mirrors a deeper truth (even unwittingly) of affirming the majesty locked within each individual, regardless of who they are - all persons are worthy of a ‘wai’.     

More recently, with the huge mango-tree felling project, (400 in total to be replaced with coconut trees) it’s been all hands on deck, for both weekend days, and now even Thursdays and Fridays. (I walked around in a jellied stupor last Monday, but this kind of excuse-making is of course only for the faint-hearted (or the foreign!).  Previously, I had been snatching chunks of time, here and there, to develop skills long since put in the ego-attic. I loved table tennis at school, and it just so happens that the kids here do too – and they’re pretty good at it, teaching me some new deadly spin shots. I’m also swimming like a fishy fiend, eager to perfect that classic front crawl. (And, er, reclaim my lungs from too many years of liquorice rollies!) And, amazingly, I’m finally given time to learn a little on the ukulele (it’s played everywhere here), all of which, I am sad to say, I could never have found the time for, when teaching in the UK system. 

Girls force boys to cool off after some
boisterous goading

Grade 7s resting in the shade for a while

With all these many fresh joys percolating beneath a slightly perspiring surface, it occurred to me the other day, that I genuinely looked forward to each part of every day. There wasn’t any part I’d just rather glide over, feet not touching the ground, and this was quite a new feeling. Alas, the hardiness of this revelation has since been tested, as I am now to exert a far greater energy than ever before, lugging heavy chopped logs, riddled with trigger-happy crawlies, in 36 degree temperatures!

Yes, I have been forced to smile at such a stark difference imposed out of the blue: when you think life is going your way, and you’re batting back the balls like a pro, along come the red ants to bite you, quite literally, on the bum! The ebb and flow - the yin and yang - or so it would seem. And yet, the fellowship of such a gargantuan task (did I mention a modest 400 Mango trees?) leaves me feeling drained but fulfilled, having shared more smiles and grunts and gasps than I care to count. There’s much to be said for the ‘Keep Calm and Pick Up Another Log’ gang, afterall.

The boys doing an extra shift, after classes on Thursday

As I finished typing this, at my desk last night, (now editing) a large green praying mantis just walked up to my laptop, (jumping me at first, I’ll be honest). I think he wanted to see if he’d get a mention. What a fitting end, to a rather long-winded and certainly blustery blog. Matthew, from Grade 9, explained to me that the environment here must be good, because normally he sees smaller ones, and this is the largest he’s seen. We both spent a great deal of time marvelling at how this magnificent creature can move, so deftly – its limbs and head, so precisely. A quiet window of awe, captured in the smallest of moments, before Matthew then walks off, his new friend enjoying the ride on top of his head. I think I may start referring to these as ‘Mechai Moments’. I certainly feel lucky to be learning like a student again too. 

Free transport - smart Mantis!

After shifting logs, a reward in their new
 colourful toys

With only March left (having been here since January), I hope I can take more than just a few mangoes and red bite-marks with me. I’m aiming for a song or two, a few lasting connections with fantastic people and a new relaxed confidence in how I can teach, without all that unnecessary worry.  Oh, and possibly my first ever swimmer’s tan... not an insignificant discovery that. J       

TEACHING (and learning)...

"...many ways to crack a nut!' a wise old bean once said, which would seem apt for this post on teaching and learning. 

(But be forewarned! This post is a little long-winded, adult-targeted, and dangerously close to an educational rant, of sorts, so please click away if such things play havoc with your temples!)

  

Since being here, (and as my previous post indicated) I have been lucky to come and know some incredibly committed young learners, who are dedicated in their efforts within the Sangha. (The Sangha is the 3rd aspect of the Triple Gem of Buddhism, which are the monks and nuns that practise Dharma, and who dedicate their life to teaching this wisdom - from Lord Buddha's own teachings - to all people).

Proud pieces of work!

The hours these boys put in is indisputably commendable. However, one main question occupying my mind is: what can us Brits learn from their ways of engaging younger learners, and what can they perhaps learn from us?

Underlying this question is one of value; what do we most value in society? What do we value as success? What do we value as good learning?  I think many people would be hard pressed to argue against the obvious: that the pendulum of why we get ourselves an education at all, has swung perilously close to the simple pragmatic and prosaic end of: "Because you must get yourself a decent* job, my dear!"  (read: *highly-paid/socially respected/hard-working...). Interestingly, this dominant addiction to honest hard work, as a primary source of virtue, is protestant in origin too, if you wanted more historical background (or indeed more alliteration!) 

However, it seems that here, in this small pirivena, the children are offered a different rationale for their diligent and Goliath efforts; a rationale that evidently yields good fruit - in terms of respectful behaviour, disciplined endeavours with a genuine humility and generosity of spirit - which are held in abundance (very much like the tropical fruits here).  Education here is viewed more as a means by which you can better yourself spiritually, as well as those around you. Personal gain, in a material or conventionally western sense, is much further out of view, it would seem. (Although, I would not suggest, at this stage, that personal ambitions have been dissolved as a significant driving force either).  

Pirivena by dusk - always a beautiful light.

Gal Vihara Temple, Polonnaruwa (an hour long lecture from staff...at 9pm, after getting up at 2am that same morning!) 

Yet just in the nick of time, before I go painting a picture of total educational bliss, it seems important to shine a spotlight on the educators here too, for whom the process of learning is based more around the highly-esteemed accumulation of facts and the gathering up of vast stores of culturally-relevant knowledge (often learnt by repetitive rote). Whatsmore, if this knowledge is given up in perfect oratory form, then all the greater is its purity.  

In Latin, the word 'educare' means to train or to mold. Alternatively, the Latin word 'educere' means something quite different, shifting the responsibility away from an over-active tutor and placing it within the hands of the learner herself: it means I lead, draw or take out. I find this to be such a wonderful piece of enlightening etymology, which could be interpreted still further as: leading myself out of the darkness). Of these two interpretations, or models, concerning the purpose and approach to education, it seems absolutely clear to me which is the modus operandi for teaching here, at the pirivena, and that many more learning institutions would do well to re-adjust their model of education to redress this imbalance, currently in favour of only the former model. That said, it also seems clear to me that we have a restrictive tendency in the west to believe that we must always select either this or that - rendering only one interpretation as the true and correct model, when clearly both interpretations have value, when up against the full array of disciplines and skills to be taught in today’s classrooms. 

No interactive Whiteboard...quite an adjustment! 

A few Early Learning Centre resources (bought from charity shops before I left) have come in quite handy. Here the children are playing shops and buying goods on their shopping lists!

Finally, I have also been running an adults’ English class, with the teaching staff here, between 7 and 8pm each evening. And while we operate mainly within a merry dance of correct grammar and suitable syntax, something far more interesting is happening. I am able to openly plant seeds of good practise from home, such as the primary value of good questioning, and how this can unlock deeper thinking from the (often passive) learners; or the benefits of recapping and making links to prior learning; or even how to ensure more of the children are participating for more of the time. This is quite exciting, and by 9pm, I am often still in full education-geek mode, forcing myself to talk as slowly and as clearly as possible... not so easy!

A school trip to Sigiriya Rock Palace!

This topic is certainly an emotive one for me; I cannot help but feel strongly about it, so I struggle to align my words and sentences in a proper orderly fashion. (Since drafting this, I have had to edit out big chunks, but I still feel this is way too hefty a post, so thank you for sticking with it... next one will be lighter, I promise!) 

Introducing: Sri Somananda Pirivena at Bopaththa Temple, near Eheliagoda Town, in Sri Lanka!

Big apologies for not writing anything up until now, but it's enough to say that I've been busy placing two feet firmly on Sri Lankan soil...(and losing the odd flipflop in the tropical rain!)

I've been teaching English here, in Bopaththa Village, (near Eheliyagoda Town) and within this pirivena (which is a school for young Buddhist monks) for nearly 3 weeks now, and it's been an amazing experience so far. There has been so much to take in, adapt to, ride along with... that I'm definitely having to put into practise my own brainwashi...er tuition on fostering a 'Growth Mindset' delivered to my brilliant year 5 pupils last year. (This is why I love teaching - because it brings the best out of me; it enables me to make real connections with beautiful open minds and also, it reminds me regularly of the most important things in life: to love, to learn and to grow). 


I'm not sure where to start, so I am hoping that some of my photos will help paint a picture of my life here... 

cleaning duties 

sweeping the compound

My room by dusk - (nice colours!) 

Some curious visitors

My bed, with useful mosquito protection!

My front 'door' and window shutters

a tentative early morning step outside 

In terms teaching and learning (the main driver of this trip), I have certainly had the privilege of working with the most amazing young learners, who work incredibly hard everyday. 
To offer some sort of picture, these lads wake up at 6 (sometimes 5) and start their daily jobs, such as sweeping the compound area, cleaning and tidying everything, or helping to prepare breakfast. 
After this, they wash briefly and then worship the Lord Buddha at their temple within the compound (which the villagers here also use each evening). 
After breakfast (at around 8am), they start their learning, which can be either independent study, from homework given, or small classes like my smaller English sessions. This stops at about 11, when they have a full wash and also hand-wash their own robes - all in the outside shower area. (Each boy has his own large bucket for this, which I borrow too!).  
Lunch is then taken at around 12pm, when a big metal gong is hammered out. Before eating, the children offer out lines of worship aloud, in praise of Lord Buddha's wisdom, and in unison. If the villagers (or other Buddhists from further afield) have come to offer Ahms (to donate food and other supplies), this act of worship, in the Ahms hall, takes much longer because the people donating food also worship with the children and with their chief incumbent monk. 

Breakfast in the Ahms Hall

Pirivena academic hall

Afternoon learning starts at 12:45pm ('pirivena time'), and before settling down into their graded areas, they offer a call and response meditation, which focuses their attention on their collective wishes (please see the video - I really like one line in their called-out prayer of 'May we be calm peaceful and happy').  Each one, of their 8 lessons, lasts for 35 minutes, and their sessions are conducted in English, where possible (quite useful for me!). 

The youngest learners in the largest 'Primary B group'

schools finished at 5:45pm

In addition to my English, their lessons include: mathematics, history, Sinhala (their own language), Buddhism (Dharma) with Social Science, Pāli (an old 'dead' language, like Latin, spoken by Lord Buddha himself), and Sanskrit (an ancient written language said to be one of the first in the world). 
It never ceases to amaze me how hard and devoted they are to their studies - never complaining about their work load and always in such high spirits, joking and smiling all the time. Frequently, they come to seek help for homework much later at night, from their respective teacher, and sometimes lessons on a Sunday have continued until 10pm!  (This said, I am really pleased to see that they do like to play volleyball on a Sunday for a few hours too!). Amazing and remarkable young learners, who are so respectful - always asking me if I've eaten, or sharing their few treats or fruits with me. 

Grade 3 students

Grade 1 students

In the evening, they worship at the Temple for another hour, from 7 until about 8, and then eat dinner at about 8pm. They do study and homework after this, but if this is finished, they can have some freetime, and enjoy playing a game like hide-and-seek.
Some of the older monks go out to offer guidance on Dharma to villagers in their homes, and return to eat their dinner at about 8.30pm or 9pm.  (A full day's work indeed!)
ON some Saturdays, Television is a often treat where they can watch a film or a programme.
Usually, the children are in bed by 10pm, if they do not have any additional tasks, such as lighting the special candle at the Buddha statue, or a visit somewhere else.

Much more to write, but hopefully this sketches an initial picture of my life here in Bopaththa Village...

a signal in the right direction...

I caught sight of an optimistic note just this morning, (thanks to a heads up from a friend). This article reassured me that one of my preferred focus areas, namely the introduction of mindfulness for young learners, is not totally outlandish and off-key. Phew!  Please read:
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2016/09/07/teach-yoga-and-meditation-to-unplug-children-says-education-mini/

(Image courtesy of www.meditatetoday.org )