"Teacher, teacher!" "Teacher, wainam, teacher!"

These exclamations would be the death of me: a fledgling teaching intern expected  to manage a class of 4-8 year olds with no previous knowledge of English. Except for "teacher!" of course.

So began a life-altering day filled with fear, anticipation, excitement, and great uncertainty. Now, I know with a little teaching assistant experience under my belt I should have been strolling into that Cambodian school with a confident swagger. Wrong. I had absolutely no idea how I was going to relate to these young children. At least with teenagers, you remember the palpable awkwardness of that time in your life. The night before my teaching day, I racked my brain for any recollection of what it was like to be a four-year-old. Zip, zero, zilch. I was going to have to wing this one.

After downing breakfast, our group hopped in the taxi and headed to Cambodian Kids, a school on Koh Chang comprised of young refugees from Cambodia. After thirty minutes of driving, we turned right down a shrouded path leading straight into the jungle. In the moments traversing to the school, I had my first exposure to a third-world shantytown. Decrepit houses were slopped together with sheets of tin. Stray dogs littered the rock-strewn road. Cambodians and Thais were gathered on their front porches; some with drawn faces and others with looks of bewilderment at the sight of a songthaew filled with white farangs. All I could do was stare back in wide-eyed shock.



Once parked, we got out and began to traverse a stream leading to the school. We were met by a hoard of children, screaming, "teacher, teacher!" and I was abruptly taken by the hand and guided across the stream by an exuberant little girl. Upon arriving at the steps, I realized the "school" was literally one open, concrete room with a few whiteboards, desks, and chairs. Dozens of muddy puddles pooled on the ground, in which I had the pleasure of teaching barefoot on. Case in point: this was not your standard American school setting.

I was first to teach. My topic? Body parts. Thankfully I came prepared with flash cards and mustered up as much enthusiasm as I could to entice these youngins to pay attention. With extravagant gestures, smiling, and a loud, clear voice I'm proud to say that I kept their attention for most of the lesson. My favorite part of it all: hearing my own American accent repeated back to me in the most dramatic manner and their sheer eagerness to participate in the games I used. After my lesson ended, we had a fifteen-minute break, so I went outside on the playground to interact with the students. There were many more shrieks of "teacher, teacher, picture," lots of piggy-back rides, and even a game of basketball.



After the school day ended, we all piled in the songthaew (kids included) and headed back to Siam Bay Resort to go to the beach. The wonderful quality of this outing was that a majority of these children had never been to the sea. The afternoon was filled with swimming, laughter, and all around fun.




This was my first taste of "real teaching," and I can honestly say that it has changed my life. To see these destitute children come to life in the classroom has not only boosted my confidence, but has also given contextual meaning to teaching English as a foreign language. These children became my own for that short span of a day and have truly touched my heart. If my next phase of teaching in Thailand is anything close to this experience, I know that I came here for the right reason.