The Honeymoon Phase

This afternoon as I sat on the back seat of a bus, touring the streets of Phnom Penh, I was engaged in a conversation about the realities of living and teaching abroad. While Jeff and I have only just started, many others on staff are on their fourth or fifth stint abroad. We talked about how leading up to departure, it was exasperating to have people ask, “Are you SO excited for your big trip?!,” because first of all, excited only begins to dip into the cocktail of emotions coursing through your body, and second of all, moving across the world and entering an entirely new environment, both personally and professionally, can hardly be called a “trip.” However, we rationalized, people were just attempting to normalize and discuss something that they do not entirely understand. And making that effort is important. On the receiving end of this question, it was difficult for us, as we did not entirely understand what we were getting into either. We then talked about how hard it was to write emails home and adequately communicate to those we had left just what our first glimpse of this experience is like. I said that unless people were asking me specific, structured questions, I was unable to provide a genuine answer. It has been overwhelming in a sense, but not in the negatively connoted way I would typically reference, i.e. "I have three intense IEP meetings today and I haven't written the drafts yet, I am so overwhelmed!" Even now, I sit here erasing sentence after sentence, trying to find the right language to describe these past few days.

Since arrival, we have been completely immersed in newness – a new apartment, new colleagues and friends, a new school community, a new climate and environment, a new culture, a new city, a new job, a new language. We have been told that we are in the “honeymoon phase." We are experiencing everything with fascination, excitement and awe. Everything seems thrilling and every challenge is chalked up as a learning experience. Soon, we are told, they honeymoon stage will phase out and we will be faced with the challenging aspects that a different culture brings. The small annoyances that are easy to let slide today, will turn into larger, more frustrating problems. Although it was tough to hear that this is ultimately headed our way, it was nice to be encouraged to seek support. For now, I will continue exclaiming randomly as we travel through town. Whether it’s a funny name for a business (Cute Girl Salon, Associated Federation for Small and Medium Business Owners), a cute baby (so damn many…), something we didn’t think we would find in Cambodia (Baby Armani, delicious iced coffee, three pool tables in full swing on the side of a dirt road), it’s as if my mental processing facilities have overflowed and all I am left with is the ability to point and name.

Yesterday was our first day of orientation, and we were excited to really start the process that will eventually shape our responsibilities and job description. It was also the first day that the entire staff was together in a formal setting. The Cambodian staff is incredibly friendly with HUGE smiles and the majority can speak at least basic English. From the kitchen staff to the security team, everyone stated their name and a bit about themselves. It was so satisfying finally to get to meet everyone, but also very humbling. Robert has done a great job of eliminating any power dynamic between the overseas and host staff. He has encouraged us all to remember that we are one family. At this point, I feel like the Cambodian staff has more to offer – most of them have been on site much longer, many have helped construct the buildings, recruit students and were on site for the student visit in June. They all speak the native language, Khmer, which we now know is informally pronounced with a long I at the end (kuh-my). I feel like the overseas staff has yet to really contribute. Before it was my turn to introduce myself, I thought about what I would typically say: “Hi, my name is Caroline, I am from Buffalo, NY and went to Boston College where I graduated with an undergraduate degree in Early Childhood Education and Human Development. After undergrad I went straight into my masters in Special Ed, while teaching kindergarten at a private school. For the past two years I have served as a Learning Center teacher for grades K-3.” I quickly realized that none of this information would mean anything to these new colleagues. They probably don’t know what Buffalo is, even if they had heard of New York state, and they certainly didn’t care about Boston College. I don’t mean to say that my accomplishments are less valued here, but that instead we are all starting out on a clean page. The real value is going to be in connecting with the students, working together as a team and supporting each other as we figure out the program and curriculum.

As we learn more about Cambodia and Liger’s mission, I am filled with growing excitement, but also growing doubts. Will we be able to take on the challenges that will pop up when the kids arrive? Is this lab school model going to be adaptable to the Cambodian culture? Am I fit to teach these bright students when my most recent experience and practice is with special education? Will the students relate to me? Will the language barrier be too much to handle?

But at the end of the day, when we find ourselves talking educational theory and dissecting Robert's meetings over Stomp the Yard (it crosses all cultural boundaries, and never fails to make Jeff cry) with a fabulous new colleague, we realize that we need to trust the process and our shared abilities.

Now we just need to meet the kids!