During our trip, the pastor asked me one day, as we were sitting around, "Are you having a good time?"
"I don't know." I replied truthfully.
I had signed up for the trip thinking, This is great, I'll get to teach English! After all, I've had experience in this!
I prepared for days, thinking up songs and games to play, and gathering props and teaching aids to help me. All this stuff fit neatly into an old suitcase I had found, and I didn't plan on bringing it home again.
The first day of classes was a bit of a shock, to say the least. There were four classes that morning, the youngest of which was a class of three-year-olds called Nursery. They sat neatly dressed in their uniforms in desks way too large for them, staring up at our team of six adults as we loomed over them. There was not much room in each classroom to play any games. I'm quite sure they had never seen white people before, and they all eyed us with trepidation.
We launched into our first song, and then expected them to dialogue with us and each other as we went over the phrases we were trying to teach them. They could hardly open their mouths to speak, and then spoke so softly we couldn't hear them saying the English words.
After three more classes, whose students were four, five, and six years old, it kind of seemed as though we were swimming against the current.
In our room afterwards I collapsed on our bed in defeat. I felt like running away. I felt like not doing this any more.
"God, I can't do this! You have to take over!" I wished I hadn't been appointed leader of one of the teams. It was humbling to come to the end of myself.
As our team brainstormed that evening, we realized we had to approach our task in a different way. We decided to break up into small groups in the classroom and use puppets and some of the small props I'd brought along. It seemed silly, asking them the repeat the names of colours and numbers, but we did try to incorporate them into games.
I found out it wasn't my expertise in English that was needed. Our goal was to focus on the children's pronunciation. That was nearly impossible, given that we were only actually in the classroom for three days, and were to do a craft activity on the fourth day. It was interaction that was wanted, not teaching new words.
I found out that what God did THROUGH me was far more important than what I did FOR Him. The lesson I learned on this trip was to be FLEXIBLE, in other words, GO WITH the FLOW.
Once I got this straight in my mind, the noise and chaos of the craft day didn't bother me. It didn't bother me that the glue didn't hold the felt eyes and ears onto the slippery nylon fabric of the sock puppets, or that there were only a handful of glue bottles for sixty children, and we had to wait our turn.
I sat on the floor with my little group of six children, and practised their names while we waited. I felt in an oasis of peace.
Apparently, what we accomplished in the school was well received. The children were happy with the special attention and a change in their routine. Some parents were already registering younger siblings, thinking it would be worthwhile if a team from North America came to "teach", however briefly.
I can say that I'm glad we went on the trip. And yes, I did have a good time.
