I have been given my first class of my very own at Honour
Village (the orphanage/school). Thankfully they gave me the older brighter
bunch, most likely acknowledging that children scare the living daylights out
of me. I was pretty much thrown in at the deep end. “Sarah, can you help me
with class today?” or in Cambodian... “Just kidding, I’m not gonna show up.” I
basically just stared at them for a bit, told them “First time being teacher
today. I don’t know what I am doing.” Seeing as I don’t know how to teach, and
they’re older therefore probably judging my every move, I gathered lesson #1
could be ‘learn to like your teacher’. So we spoke football and animals and
plans and family and all sorts. No learning. It turns out I have this alter-ego
when I teach, where I manage to be silly and make the kids laugh. Which I’m
okay with. They might not be able to know English when I’m done with them, but
at least they’ll carry on going to school in the hope that all of their
teachers are as helpless and silly as me. They mainly like me because I can’t
pronounce the names in the alphabet. I get them now, but they don’t need to
know that because then they won’t like me any more. I already have a favourite.
Which of course is the youngest and naughtiest. Naughty here has a different
meaning. The kids are lovely. All of them. Naughty at home means setting things
on fire and carrying weapons and stuff. No, that’s not okay. Naughty here means
“what are you doing tonight class?” ... “homework teacher... reading teacher...
teaching my little sister English teacher... watching TV and sleeping”. Okay
very good Danick. I also told them that if they don’t do their homework, they
have to come into class and say “sorry teacher, I did not do my homework, but
my favourite football team is Manchester United”, and then it’s okay. I don’t
think that is very good. But it keeps Danick entertained. On Thursday he came
in yelling “teacher my favourite team is Manchester United” AND he did his
homework. I was very impressed. Danick (my favourite) is the youngest. He’s 12.
He sits next to Theurng, who is 21 and the oldest. Theurng is probably the
smartest, and I found out last week that he works at the airport as a soldier.
A SOLDIER in my class. What is this? Anyway, it turns out I quite enjoy teaching/not
teaching but pretending to teach. They’re trying to ship off the opposite
youngest/don’t-know-a-word-of-English-class to me. I’m trying to avoid it at
all costs. I cannot entertain fifty 3-5 year olds.
I have successfully survived half of my South-East Asia
travels. I didn’t think I’d make it much further than Bangkok airport 13 hours
in, but it turns out I was wrong. I am still alive. I have not been ill. I am
happy. I don’t want to come home yet. So that’s good, right? I think 3 months
is bang-on fine for me. Especially with the plans of Laos, Thailand and Phnom
Penh for the last 2 weeks, which means only 1 month left here. Which is going
to go so fast. Anyway, we celebrated by at long-last hitting the temples, which
are the only reason people ever seem to come to Cambodia for, and we just
happen to live down the road from. It’s been a good weekend. Lots of sun, very
hot, long days... yawn. Temples aren’t really up my street, they all looked the
same to me. Very nice and interesting, but once I’ve seen one, I’ve seen them
all... let alone 3 days of them. Angkor Wat is huge – well, biggest religious
building in the world, so it’s not that surprising. Climbed right up to the
top, then never wanted to come back down. I’d have happily just slept up there
forever. I got all giddy when I saw the monks because I am a loser. They’re
about town on motos etc all the time, but seeing them in the temples seemed
particularly bizarre. My favourite temple was one called... I don’t know what
any of them are called... either way, it was one on Sunday. Just because I
climbed to the top and there were about 10 Cambodian kids playing in the
grounds at the bottom. I waved at them, they waved back. I clapped, they
clapped. I danced, they danced. I shouted random noises, they shouted random
noises. It was very cute. This morning we were up at 4am for sunrise, which was
very pretty. Better than sunset. Then we went to the further away temples which
most tourists don’t bother with, so it was nice ‘coz they were so quiet. “You
want to go inside lady? VIP for you. $1.” – Bit of casual police corruption
along the way. The last one we went on was a 1500m hike up a mountain, then you
come to ‘The River of 1000 Lingas’, with a waterfall. Of course I was just keen
for the waterfall, minus the hike. The two girls I went with hike all the time
at home (in Canada and the States). Of course, I do not. So I warned them that
I would be grumpy. Especially so early in the morning. But I was fine, quite
enjoyed it. Got a good few scratches and
bruises from rocks along the way, but I’m okay with it ‘coz I was first in the
waterfall without hesitation. I bloody love waterfalls. They’re the best sort
of massage.
We went out on Saturday night for Halloween. We made last minute costumes with absolutely zero resources after a very long day at the Temples. In at 7, out by 9, and in the time being made a Ghostbuster backpack out of bottles. Oh, note to self: don’t go out in 30 degree heat to a packed club wearing a poncho. Ew. It was good though. Pub Crawl on Pub Street. In Newcastle, Halloween is the same as any other night. Fancy dress, same places, drunk. But they don’t celebrate it here so it was nice to see people make the effort and a change. Some sick costumes, but they’d clearly bought them with them or paid a fortune. Whilst ours were pretty creative, I obviously did none of the building. Just the drawing. Least creative person, ever. Saw the girls I work at the orphanage with, they were so drunk, so I’ll have to go out with them more often. I am definitely the only one that really drinks out of the guesthouse lot. Which is just awkward. Oh, they’re religious. So I asked one of them whether she thinks I am going to heaven or hell, out of curiosity. I’m going to hell. You move to the other side of the world to do a good deed, and you’re going to hell. Jeewiz.
We went out on Saturday night for Halloween. We made last minute costumes with absolutely zero resources after a very long day at the Temples. In at 7, out by 9, and in the time being made a Ghostbuster backpack out of bottles. Oh, note to self: don’t go out in 30 degree heat to a packed club wearing a poncho. Ew. It was good though. Pub Crawl on Pub Street. In Newcastle, Halloween is the same as any other night. Fancy dress, same places, drunk. But they don’t celebrate it here so it was nice to see people make the effort and a change. Some sick costumes, but they’d clearly bought them with them or paid a fortune. Whilst ours were pretty creative, I obviously did none of the building. Just the drawing. Least creative person, ever. Saw the girls I work at the orphanage with, they were so drunk, so I’ll have to go out with them more often. I am definitely the only one that really drinks out of the guesthouse lot. Which is just awkward. Oh, they’re religious. So I asked one of them whether she thinks I am going to heaven or hell, out of curiosity. I’m going to hell. You move to the other side of the world to do a good deed, and you’re going to hell. Jeewiz.
A gabillion more things have happened too. But I don’t
remember what ‘coz I’m always too busy to write them down more often. Bur
jfhdhjgjrhkjhg. OH if someone could start up a ‘let’s fund Warrens western
life’ fund, I’d be okay with that. I’d be looking much more forward to coming
home if I was returning to more than a maxxed out overdraft and no job. So if
you do that, I might come back earlier. LOL NO JK I obviously won’t.
BYE xx
BYE xx
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