A Social ExchAYnge

This week I was running a spelling lesson on words containing AY. The spelling program I use has students match beginning sounds with the same ending sound to make real and nonsense words, which we then discuss as a group. For example, they pair the AY ending sound with all the beginning consonants to see which ones they think make a real word. Bay. Cay. Pay. May. Stray, etc. When we get to the collaborative part, students contribute their words, and if they can also define the word, they can add it to the spelling list. Often it turns into an all-out negotiation, because they want every word added to the list, even if I have to tell them what it means. This week, things got a little heated, or as I like to call it, "The Day I Became an Unknowing Animal Activist."

Student One: "What about spay?"
Me: "Spell it."
Student One: "S-P-A-Y."
Me: "Yes, spay is a word. What does it mean?"
Student One: "I don't know, can you give a hint?"
Me: "Does anyone else know what spay means? It has to do with dogs and cats."

(various shrugs, head bobs and murmurs)

Me: "Any ideas? Think about how many cats and dogs there are around Cambodia. In America, there are also lots of cats and dogs, but we don't want our cats and dogs wandering around the streets, so we do a special thing to make sure there are not hundreds of animals without a home."

Student Two (bravely, encircling her neck with her hands): "You mean like the thing on the neck?"
Me: "Oh, good! You're thinking along the right lines. That's called a collar, and yes, we do use those in the U.S. to keep our dogs safe, but it's not spaying. Anyone else?"
Student Three: "Like a food?"
Student Four: "Like to walk it?"
Student Five: "Something a house?"

Me (unwittingly falling into a trap): "Okay, we cannot add this word to the list to study, since none of you know it, but I will tell you what it means. In the U.S. and lots of other countries, the vets do a surgery on the dogs and cats so they can't have babies. That way, we can make sure there are not too many dogs and cats out there without anyone to take care of them."

(silence. abject horror spreading across faces. children literally pushing themselves physically farther away from me as if I just confessed to mutilating cats and dogs for fun in my spare time.)

Student One: "WHAT? NOoooo....!"
Me: "I mean, c'mon guys, think about all the sad, dirty dogs and cats on the streets in Phnom Penh! They have no one to feed them or give them a bath or play with them and the mom cats just keep having so many babies..."
Student One: "Yeah, but that's mean!"
Student Two: "And what if the mom dog is so smart and then...you don't let have the puppies and then...you don't get the smart baby dogs?!"

Me: "But guys, think about how scary it is when you're riding on the moto and a stray dog runs into the road!"
Student One: "But, you kill them!"
Me (quickly losing ground): "We don't kill them, we just make it so they can't have babies. It doesn't even hurt!"

Student One, leaving the room at the end of class (brings her face right up to mine, shakes her finger at me): "MEAN and NOT NICE! I don't like."

I tell this story because (a) it was one of the funnier social exchanges I have had with the kids recently, but also because (b) it serves to illustrate how far the kids have come in developing their own identities and opinions. If this had been two years ago, they probably would have absorbed the information with a straight face and not reacted at all, in a well-enforced bid (by government school and general Khmer culture) to be respectful. Being encouraged to speak up, voice their opinions and back it up with evidence is still new for them, but they are really starting to stand on their own two feet. We want them to be able to interpret their "gut feelings" about things being right or wrong and then move to action. We want them to be direct and clear about their feelings and beliefs, even if it makes them seem "outspoken" in their culture. I am happy to say we are well on our way, and with some kids, might even need to reign them in a little bit, haha.

Also, if you know me, you know I am not much of an animal person, so this was a really strange juxtaposition for me to be placed in the role of animal rights representative.

Another wonderful snippet from this week happened as I was coming down my outside apartment stairs, on my way back to school after lunch. When you get to the end of our staircase, you turn right toward school and walk past the washing machine. It's very small and unaccompanied, as there is no need for a dryer, and it sits right under the stairs so as to be protected from rain. On this particular day, Sophal and Simean, two of our wonderful cleaners, who happen to be sisters and live at the end of the Liger road, were standing there in their matching gray Liger polos. I startled them, but not before I saw what they were doing. A la Ben Stiller in Zoolander, trying to get the files out of the computer, they were poking at the washing machine with the most puzzled looks on their faces. The washing machine was at the end of a cycle, buzzing and bumping with only five minutes left on the timer. When I came by, they both started laughing an embarrassed laugh as if I had caught them doing something wrong, and then as they always do, began urgently speaking to me in Khmer as if I have any idea what they are saying. I tried to pantomime what the machine did and how it related to the neighboring drying racks full of wet clothes, but they just laughed as if I were crazy.

It's really the little things about this place that allow you to smile every day.

I had dinner with friends on Thursday, and one told me about the funny looks she gets from Cambodians when she is walking the dog early in the morning and stops to pick up the poop. She said that the look on people's faces indicate that they think she is actually collecting dog poop to use for some weird reason; it does not occur to them that she is contributing to the general cleanliness and health of the community. That would be too outlandish.

Heading into week five tomorrow and then will be off on our first vacation, this time to Luang Prabang in Laos! We are also going to be sitting in the VIP section (what what?!) for a huge MMA fight next weekend. Very exciting for Cambodia to host such an event, so we couldn't miss it.

I leave you with a recent photo from our balcony.

Year Three: Momentum

My theme for this year is positive momentum.

The first year at Liger, as I have said to many people, felt almost like a false start. We came in with high expectations and big dreams, but it was harder than we thought to mesh our personal goals with the reality of this brand-new school. We had students we knew nothing about, who spoke little to no English. We were creating curriculum daily, based on their ever-emerging needs, with little time for quality reflection. Our teaching staff was the eight-armed octopus, all going in different directions.

Year Two was easier in some regards, but also more challenging. While we knew our students much better, and they us, they had made so much progress relative to themselves that the stakes were raised. We needed to do even more. Push even harder. Those initial expectations that we arrived with had now been met and surpassed. Low English was no longer pervasive, and the majority of students were engaging with and truly enjoying our out-of-the-box approach to teaching. Year Two felt like what we imagined Year One to be. Now I know what it means to work at a start-up. I understand that growing pains are hard, but usually worthwhile. That being said, I'm not sure if I ever want to do it again...

Now we are embarking on Year Three. I am proud to say some of my top students might even be able to use context to decode the meaning of that word. English is now spoken during the entire school day, no exceptions. It has simply become the norm, and runs on the honor system with less and less frequent reminders and check-ins. For the most part, these kids are incredibly, almost uniquely, honest. They prioritize respect and we can trust them to turn themselves in if they have made even the smallest mistake. They are now twelve and thirteen, becoming adolescents (gag - prior to this I have never taught beyond third grade) and with that comes all the requisite questioning and envelope-pushing.

This year we have a new focus on Entrepreneurship, so our first few days back have acted as a general introduction. Last year, Jeff and Dom created a partnership with a pair of local brothers -- born in California to Chinese-Cambodian parents who fled the Khmer Rouge -- who started the first 3D printing company in the country. They opened their own shop this weekend and all 50 of our students attended, networking with local businesspeople, seeing the latest technology, asking questions and drawing up their ideas for what the printers could print. Before the end of this year, each student will rotate through a 7-week start-up business project, led by the brothers, in which they will agree on the best item to be 3D printed, design, market and sell it. Some of the ideas I have heard floating around are baby-safe electrical plugs, which do not exist here, and a relief map of the entire country for use in government schools.

Last week, students researched different entrepreneurs and took on their histories and personalities in a faux networking event. We had the Rocher (chocolate) magnate making business deals with the owner of the largest Chinese supermarket chain. Three members of the Wal-mart family were being asked by Warren Buffet (played by one of our female students) why they refuse to sign his 50% pledge. Niron, who was the owner of what is now known as H&M, was carrying around one of my shirts as evidence of his product. His opening line? "Do you like fashion?"

Even though this sort of teaching is not the norm for me, and in no way would I consider myself an entrepreneur, I have enjoyed teaching them email etiquette and networking skills, and tomorrow, launching their dining etiquette course. No more chewing with their mouths open!

We have only been back about a week, but it genuinely feels like we never left. It is currently thunder storming outside in the best possible way. The air smells so fresh, the dust is gone (for now), and I can hear the yells of the kids from the sports court.

Since this year may very well be our last, I want to try and remind myself to take full advantage, push myself out of any bad moods that arise, and really make the best of it.

Stay tuned to see how that goes...

I sign off with something new and something old. First the new: while we were gone, Phnom Penh got its first real mall. We are talking gorgeous lighting, sparkling floors, escalators and top of the line haute couture stores. Food court, parking garage, fountains...I mean, the real deal. Furthermore, our local grocery store went green, now stocking their own brand of reusable cloth bags. Such progress, one might think.

However, lest we forget we live in what used to be a jungle, I also witnessed the discovery and subsequent hunt for a five-foot snake. Oh yes.

Ode to Cambodia

It's always hard to convey to someone who has never been here before what exactly living in Cambodia is like. It also makes it harder to communicate the nuances of everyday life to friends over FaceTime or when recounting the year over beers in the summer. (It's why you should all come visit.) Everything we do here is indelibly linked to the country, both our personal lives and when we teach the "future of Cambodia."

Lately I have been trying to make note of things that strike me as typically Cambodian and also differ dramatically from life in the U.S. It's not always the most accurate to describe only the differences between two places instead of the similarities, but it can be more interesting...

Cambodia is a place where you hear music everywhere. Khmer and K-Pop blasting from mini-marts as you trundle by in a tuk-tuk, bags of groceries at your feet. Instrumental, more traditional music emanating from a wedding tent, used to alert the neighborhood to the nuptials, and also contributing a significant impact on local traffic patterns. At least you know when to slow down... Whether it is ten at night as I am trying to fall asleep or 6:15am when I am trying to remain asleep, chances are there is music floating through our window screens.

Cambodia is a place where the bodies of the dead from decades prior are tended by relatives or neighbors (or Liger security guards) after their families have moved on. If you walk down the driveway to Liger, just outside our gates are two old burial mounds. One is more removed, off in the trees on the left, but the other quite prominent, on the right hand side just at the edge of the path. When certain traditional holidays roll around, Khmer people decorate these graves with colored crepe paper and say prayers. Liger was built only two years ago, but the rumor is these mounds have existed for more than 60 years. "Just the bones now." New buildings go up and cities and towns expand, but the vestiges of those who came before us remain.

Cambodia is a place where two active, intelligent women in their late twenties, prefer to go roller-skating at 6am for fear of getting a tan. Where entire families on motorbikes wear long-sleeved shirts, gloves and face masks to avoid the rays of the sun that are ultimately inescapable in this country. It is a place where sitting with your feet up is considered disrespectful, but my students tell me "it's okay if you do it because you are not from here. But my grandma would tell you not to." The only proper way to sit is with both feet flat on the floor. No crossing your legs either, because "it will hurt your blood."

Cambodia is a place where typical rules and regulations cease to exist, both for the best and the worst. Reading a guided reader entitled "Laws for Kids" is basically like reading Russian for these kids. I have to stop and explain what a leash for a dog is, that people don't drop trash on the ground in the U.S. or you can get fined, and that there are specific places where you can and can't cross the street. I get crazy looks while explaining about washing machines and dryers, dish washers and in-door heating. On the other hand, we are constantly pushing these little minds to consider how to improve their country, and that perhaps a law about wearing helmets when on a moto would be a good thing to enforce. Recently, two different groups of students began studying some major issues in Cambodia: the environmental impact of plastics, including burning plastic trash, and the state of electricity and electrical safety.

Cambodia is a country with massive potential, as echoed by most people who have been here. I compare my students today with who they were a year ago, and am amazed. I recently took three girls out for smoothies and manicures, the result of our first school-wide auction. A year ago they would have been timid and shy, speaking mainly to each other in Khmer. This experience was exactly the opposite. Three confident, emotionally open girls jumped into the tuk-tuk with me, full of questions and connections to share about manicures they had had before with aunts or mothers before weddings or birthdays or holidays. They commanded the tuk-tuk driver in Khmer and amazed him with their English abilities. They spoke eagerly to the manicurists, discovering that Sokea was from the same province as the girl painting her fingernails bright pink. They told the nail artists about Liger, about how they came to be at Passion Spa on a Thursday night and left the salon laughing at the image of one upper-class Khmer woman who had three separate treatments happening simultaneously.

As we walked over to grab a smoothie, they shared with me how their transition to speaking only English during the school day was going. Sokea had earned her two-day pin, the other two were still working towards it and could recount the exact moment when they had faltered, the exact Khmer words that had led to their downfall. "But we just have to show determination," they said. As we sat and waited for our banana mango drinks, there was a funky-looking man painting a mural of fairies on the wall. He had his headphones in, was shirtless, displaying a massive tattoo across the better part of his back, had a shaved head and a long, thin beard rubber banded into sections...all in all, someone the girls might have gawked at a few months ago. But now they are comfortable: "Can we ask him how long it took to do this? Did he design it all?" They couldn't keep their eyes off him -- this from a girl who has no running water in her house, and whose ten-year-old sister has taken on the job of caretaker for her disabled father in her absence. I had to catch his attention, but they were able to speak to him in English and get all their questions answered. Beaming smiles, neon orange name tags in place, these girls are a microcosm of making global connections and becoming the next generation of Cambodian change agents.

Cambodia is a place where roosters crow at all hours of the day (and night). Where my walk to work is impeded by overripe mangos, splitting at the seams and covered in ants. Stepping in it is the equivalent of stepping in dog poo, causing the students to burst out laughing as you hop on one foot, covered in mango slime. Where one of my students regales me with stories of his "holiday job" herding cows and water buffalo in Siem Reap. "You have to make sure they don't get hit by a car. Sometimes there are babies, but also big ones." Here, the frogs chorus so loudly that at times it overtakes our school building in the morning and its hard to have a conversation. A few months ago, while washing the dishes and looking out the window, I saw a slight movement and was horrified and amazed to see a shiny, bright green snake about two feet long, lounging amid the leaves and branches. It was so well camouflaged that it might have been there for days without me noticing. It is a place where the snails are huge but still just as slow; I find myself aiding in their survival, moving them out of the path of the Liger Lexus.

With only six more weeks before we head home for the summer, I am trying to take the time to appreciate what we have here. The differences can often be annoying or inconvenient, but they are also what make this place a stimulating and challenging, worthwhile place to be.

New Year, Big Decisions

It is always around this time of year when teachers everywhere begin to remark on how quickly the school year is flying by. September is new and exciting, but October and November drag until you hit Thanksgiving. Once that's over, Christmas break is just around the corner, and from there the year melts away between long weekends, February and April breaks and in most schools, testing cycles. That being said, it is hard to believe that it is already the end of January and that we have been back at Liger for two weeks since the Christmas break.

There are quite a few big decisions that we have made in the past two months, most notably that we will return to Liger for a third year. There are innumerable reasons why we feel like this is the best choice, but what it really boils down to is that we are both very happy here. This experience and the resulting life that we have created has been overwhelmingly positive. More and more we feel like Liger is turning into the school that we knew it could be from the moment we learned it existed. Last year, "Year Zero," was about planting seeds, putting out fires, and developing forward motion. The past six months have been the true beginning of the fantastic teaching and learning that we signed up for. With our current momentum and enthusiasm, it wouldn't feel right to leave at the end of this year. Furthermore, both Jeff and I feel that we are professionally challenged, fulfilled and, most importantly, supported in a way that we were not in our previous teaching jobs. At Liger we are encouraged to turn our ideas into reality, with little hassle or delay. Our administrators are involved in the process of overseeing curriculum, but when it comes to our daily teaching decisions, they entrust us with free rein. Another obvious reason why we want to stay is the kids -- they are inspiring to work with. The level of curiosity and engagement that Liger students display is unparalleled. They truly are special little people who continue to grow and develop not only academically, but also emotionally and personally. At this point we have signed on for a third year, adding a one-year contract to our initial two-year contract. Jeff will continue to develop his role as the primary Math teacher, extending our highest tier of students who are already immersed in Algebra, and supporting those who struggle. My role will take on more of a Literacy Specialist focus, which I could not be more excited about. At the end of the day, it was more like a physical acceptance of the decision our hearts and minds had already made.

The whole group at the first annual Liger Olympics

Second in line in the big decision category is that we will get married in Boston in early July of 2015. What's that you say? Caroline "Detail-Oriented Control Freak" Bell is planning a wedding from abroad? Twelve-hour time difference be damned, plan it I will. The way I see it, my entire anal retentive, color-coded life has prepared me for this. However, (not to brag), I did manage to nail down both a dream venue and THE dress all within two days, so all I need to do is maintain this rate of progress and we should be on track. Of course neither of those things would have been possible without my reliable partner in crime on venues, Barbara, and my dress sidekicks, Bridget and Cara. Jeff's mom put in all the legwork to suss out possible venue options even before we arrived back, appointments and all. On the dress front, Bridget took off work to accompany me to my first appointment, and Cara put bridesmaids dress shopping for her own wedding on hold to watch me try on dresses. Between my top-notch email skills and my team on the ground in Boston, we are looking at a pretty spectacular July celebration.

                                                                ________________

Jeff and I missed Christmas last year and it was particularly rough. Although we got to experience traveling through Malaysia over that break, we really missed being home with our families for the holiday. This year we had almost three weeks off, so it really felt like we had quality time to spend with people, despite the long trip and our incredibly jam-packed schedule.

We spent the week of Christmas with my family in snowy Buffalo. My step-brother Dylan, who is currently stationed in Japan with the Air Force, was home for the first time in a while, so it was great to see him after almost two years. My brother Griffin was back in Buffalo after six months studying abroad in Lisbon, Portugal, trendy Euro haircut and all. My nephew Theo, who will be three in August, was so much fun to hang with, especially watching him open his presents. (Note his adorable big boy tie.) Mom's homemade lasagnas really hit the spot, and she went all out on making the house a Christmas wonderland. Christmas day was at my Dad's, hanging out by the fire, and the only people missing were Kate and Tyler, who weren't able to make it from California.



Another highlight of being home in Buffalo was the weekend I organized for all my girlfriends to celebrate my engagement. In reality, it was really just an excuse to get everyone together. I had about 15 friends from high school, as well as a few friends from college and Nica, our former co-worker at Liger. I have always prided myself on how great my friends are, both individually and as a group. I have to say, for twenty girls to come together for the weekend without an ounce of drama is pretty impressive. I was especially excited to introduce my home friends and my out of town friends, and show the out of town girls Buffalo. We visited the Falls, went to Duffs for wings, and had a blast going out on the town, limo and all. It was also a great opportunity to celebrate the engagements of Kelly and Guilia, Caelainn and Mike, Cara and Brad and Allie and Charlie.

Kate was able to make it home for the party weekend!

Once we were back in Boston, I was consumed with wedding planning, but all slid to a halt with the arrival of the newest member of the Boucher clan: Ben. What an amazing, happy, adorable little guy! Michael and Ashley, Jeff's older brother and sister-in-law, really got lucky with this one. Besides being cute enough to eat, Ben was happy sitting, standing, being held, being left alone, being passed around...I swear I heard the kid cry like twice the entire visit. And his smiles! It was great to catch up with Ashley and Michael, and so special to have lots of time with Ben. It took Jeff about six minutes to announce he loves Ben more than anyone else in the world. After so much smooching and cuddling with those cheeks, it was hard to say goodbye, but it was also nice to get back to our own space and our own special kids after a long time at home.

Since being back, I have wrapped up my second six-week Exploration, which focused on Natural Disasters, Crises, and Crisis Management. I had so much fun with the kids, learning about basic things like earthquakes, floods and volcanoes, but was also really moved by their empathy and critical thinking about various international crises like the Boston Marathon bombing, the trapped Chilean miners, massive oil spills, dam breaks and 9/11.

My next post will be 100% Liger-focused, and I'll get into detail about my last two Explorations, to give you some more insight into what and how we are teaching this year. For now, I have to go get the downstairs guest apartment ready because Bridget arrives tonight for a week-long visit!