Thursday, October 21, 2010

Phasa Angkit

It's the mid-term test tomorrow at ARDA. Besides other things, it means that I've been here and been working as an "ajaan" (teacher) of phasa Angkit (English language) for over a month and a half. Teaching the Upper Intermediate level hasn't really been easy. I've had a lot of I-know-it's-the-correct-form-of-grammar-to-use-but-I-can't explain-why moments. Having the smallest class in the centre has been such a relief though. I've had some good classes. But I've also had those ones where I've walked out feeling extremely useless and almost asking existential questions, I might add. Thankfully, they wear off easily. Either I'm getting stronger or plain indifferent.
I've wondered though, still am in fact, why I'm doing what I'm doing. Honestly, teaching the English language isn't what I really want to do. It's important, yes, and opens up greater vistas to non/ yet-to-be-English speakers. Sometimes I just want to throw my hands in the air (have done, in fact) and say "What does it even matter? What does it matter if they screw up their use of grammar, mess the syntax up, use a wrong preposition here, a wrong tense there... as long as meaning is communicated with a little bit of extra gesturing and facial expressions and miming and pictionary..." I guess I think about this more often on the I-know-it's-the-correct-form-of-grammar-to-use-but-I-can't explain-why kind of days.
On other days though, I have thought about how important it is to them to learn English. Most of the people here, or at least my students, aren't learning the language with the hopes of going to some English-speaking country. They want to work here. Some already are. But Laos being one of the rising tourist attractions in S. E Asia over the past decade, there's been a lot of scope for them to be in the tourism industry. Although they probably don't speak the language at their work places or schools, I guess knowing a foreign language adds a feather to one's cap.
It's also made me think of the effects of colonialism and how long-lasting they are. Besides other reasons, one of the main causes for the spread of the English language, or other languages too, was colonialism. I suppose the debate of 'Why should we learn the coloniser's language?' has become long redundant. It's just one of those things. Changes that take place. The kind of stuff that history is made of. Nevertheless, I still wonder how a language spoken by the inhabitants of a European country has become "the language"... the lingua franca of the world. And I wonder at myself after the what-does-it-even-matter moments pass; that having been a beneficiary of an English education, it is easy for me to be less considerate for them who haven't had that. Good thing though that they weren't colonised by the English. But well, they got colonised by the French anyway, a reason why French is still a major language that is offered in school curricula. Inter-mingling of languages is imminent as changes take place, nevertheless, every time I teach the language, at the back of my head, I feel like I'm being a part of a colonial reverberation.

Monday, October 18, 2010

For myself or for posterity's sake. Or whoever is interested.


I think I have a pretty good memory. Especially when it comes to remembering experiences. I can recall memories from childhood with vivid details. Details, yes. I tend to pay a lot of attention to details. But a small fear is that over time, with more and more experiences being had, I might begin to forget some. Or worse still, I would stop caring to remember. I've stopped writing in my journal, a habit I have had since I was six, for a long time now. I've just become lazy. Writing a blog seems futile to me. Well, it wouldn't be if one had a big audience to be writing for. But to write and leave these words floating in cyber space (if they float at all) doesn't make much sense to me. I'd much rather mail a friend and splurge all the details. But I want to remember. If not for anybody else, for myself. And well, re-collecting them memories by sieving through mails sent to people seems painfully tiresome. So with the mission to "pen" down my experiences so that I can one day, perhaps, recount them all to posterity (or to myself when I wish to relive my past), I'll give this a try.