Happy Anniversary to me

Well my first school year as high school English teacher in rural Cambodia has officially come to a close. It was definitely the most stressful and rewarding job I’ve ever done. The exams were a nightmare. I am known as the most evil of all exam proctors as I don’t allow students to use their textbooks or class notes. And I don’t allow them to switch papers. And I don’t allow them to get up and move to get a better look at someone else’s paper. I am cruel indeed. Understand that none of the other teachers do this. Most don’t even attempt to do this. The only ones who enforce rules are the ones who co-proctor with me. I guess I guilt them into it. But it would impossible to stop the copying. Absolutely impossible. One looks at the paper of the person in back of them, that person looks behind them, and so forth until the whole class looks like some sort of winding copy-snake. And no one sees anything wrong with this. They say they do of course, but it practice, they couldn’t care less. In a way, I don’t blame them. Teachers get paid the same amount of money whether they show up to school or not. And the fact that their salaries are regularly a few weeks (in some cases a few months) late, they really don’t feel the need to show up if they have better things to do. Thus, some classes meet maybe 3 times in a whole semester. (Not English of course, sometimes the students try to convince me to stay home so they can leave early). But the test is over everything they should have covered. And even if class met regularly, the tests are very optimistic about the amount of material covered. And it would never occur to a student to attempt to read the book if the teacher hasn’t covered it yet. There isn’t really an idea of self study. So it is hard to fault them for cheating, because in many ways it seems as though the ministry of education is trying to screw them over. But never fear, for if you have enough money you can buy all the grades you need. It will be okay in the end. This is the reason why I’m usually harder on the students whose families have money, because I know that they will probably just pay for good scores in the end, so they might as well earn them. And grading was fun too. I didn’t proctor the English test, but I did grade it. All of the essays were poorly copied from a book, but I did get some interesting quotes, for example “Everyone in Cambodia always has happy wet dream” (Don’t ask, I have absolutely no idea). On the subject of women’s roles in Cambodia: “Women have the weak sex” and “Women should have rights equal and babies”. Oh yes. Good times.

So now that school is out, I have time to do fun things like girls camps, business related classes, and reading basically all the time. But the Lutheran World Fellowship office is really cool. And the staff let me use their internet and want me to do some work with them as far as business workshops are concerned. So at least summer should not be boring. And I get to mentor an English camp at the US Embassy for a few days.

Miracle of miracles happened the other day: I had a pleasant taxi ride to Phnom Penh. Normally I hate taxis. The normal passenger count for a toyota camry is six adults, not counting children or the driver. Now, this isn’t a particularly comfortable arrangement for Khmer people. I am twice as big as them, so when I’m in the car, everyone suffers. Not only is uncomfortable but you have to wait for all the people. But the other day I found an awesome taxi dude. In fact, he was so awesome, he showed up on time. At 7! (when he said he would show up, seven always means eight here) Not expecting him for another hour, I wasn’t even dressed. So I hurriedly throw on clothes and get downstairs. I get in the car, and I am only one of three passengers. I keep waiting for us to stop and pick up more people, but we never do. I have my own seat all the way to PP!!!!! We only stop once. It really made me happy. The same annoying music was still playing, but I’m basically used to that now.

A word on music and culture. I will sum up two very popular songs, and let them speak for themselves. The first one is a lovely little diddy about a boy who falls in love with an ethnically Chinese girl. Because the Chinese have fairer skin than Cambodians, Cambodians perceive them to be more beautiful. She is very quiet and he knows she will be an obedient wife, so he loves her. But her mother wants $5000 for her. (An average wife costs about $3000) So he sells all of his cows. But alas, he still cannot raise the money, and her mother tells him to go away.

The second song is more recent, but sung by same person who sang the first. He wants a wife, but he has a dilemma: should he marry a foreign woman or a Cambodian woman? The question plagues him, for obviously there could be no question as to whether or not either of these women would actually want to marry him. The foreign woman has white skin, and she is good to look at, but the Khmer woman would be obedient to her husband. Decisions, Decisions. In the end, he decides on the Khmer woman. And as I explained to the fruit lady at rest stop, it wasn’t his choice really because there is no way a foreign woman would marry a man like that. This also led to the explanation of how because I want to work, my husband would have to do housework so I didn’t think a Khmer man would want to marry me. She said that I had a point, but also that Khmer men are lazy and probably wouldn’t do all the work they needed to. So we came up with a plan whereby I would marry 3-4 men, and give each one a task. I would have a laundry husband, a cooking husband, a lawn work husband, and so forth. And they would all have to compete with each other to earn my favor, and thus do their jobs well. I now have a plan for my life. Thanks fruit lady.