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.
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| My lodgings - affects the feng shui? |
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| My room... neat eh? |
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
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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
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| 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).
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| 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?
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| A map of their school drawn and painted by students |
"A New Dawn in Rural Thai Education"
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| 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.
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| The well kitted-out music room. |
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| Swimming pool, quite a boon! |
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.
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| socialising is important, with a good view, naturally. |
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| 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?)
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| 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!
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| Lam Plai Mat town 10 minutes drive |
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| 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.
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| Giant pots, painted by Grade 10s |
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| 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?
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| 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.
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| Girls force boys to cool off after some boisterous goading |
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| 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.
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| Free transport - smart Mantis! |
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| 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
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