Punhaka, Bhutan
November 9, 2012
Altitude: 4,300'
It's not often I want to go back into the classroom, but that's what I did on the morning of November 9th.
Yesehy's wife, Choden, whom I'd met earlier, is a secondary English teacher and I'd asked her if it was possible to visit her class. She was more than happy to have a foreigner meet her students, letting them hear properly spoken English and giving them the chance to ask questions. I was told that they see a lot of tourists, but never really get the opportunity to talk to any.
So at 9:00 a.m.we arrived at the Khuruthen Middle/Secondary School in the small city of Punhaka.
The Bhutanese school system is patterned after the Indian system which is patterned on the British system. Mid November begins the end of the school year and final exams. School will officially be over on December 17th and resume in early February.
I would be in two classes this day. Chowden, as well as a young Canadian woman from Ontario, who also teaches English, would be my hosts.
My first class was 6th Standard--a shy and pleasant group of 40 11-13 year old students packed into a small classroom. Chairs were uncomfortable, most without backs. It was clear that education in Bhutan did not have the funding more developed countries had.
Each student was dressed in identical school uniforms. Boys wore the gho and the girls the kia--traditional clothing that everyone was required to wear at work or in official functions.
When I walked in the classroom, the students immediately stood up and sad in unison..."Good morning, Sir." I was a bit taken aback. I'd not seen something like this since my days as Saint Peter's more than fifty years ago. We'd always stand when the priest walked in and said the same thing. Actually, it was kind of nice to see.
I introduced myself, told them I lived in the United States,but also in Mexico. They told me that Barrack Obama and just been reelected and that there had been a big storm in New York, but they knew nothing of Mexico, so I took this as an opportunity to teach them a bit about my adopted country.
Bhutan has three official languages--two indigenous languages and English as the common demoninator. Children began to learn it as soon as they entered school at age six.
These middle schoolers were good. Really good. They had excellent comprehension skills and were able to ask me reasonably intelligent questions. They wanted to know about my culture, food, sports and holidays. They also wanted to know my age. "I'm 63," I told them. There were a few gasps and I'm not sure why. I figured I was a pretty old guy for a Bhutanese.
For three years I taught Spanish and marvelled at how little American kids could actually do in the language. Here in Punhaka I was having a conversation with students whose language abilities exceeded those of graduating Seniors.
The second class--a small group of 25 15 year olders, were far more inquisitive. With them I spent more time on Mexico, speaking some Spanish. Actually, Bhutan and Mexico share some common traits. Both Mexico City and most of inhabited Bhutan is above 6,000' and both Mexico and Bhutan lie on the 27th parallel, so the weather is very similar. Fruits and vegetables have much in common and,like Mexicans, the Bhutanese love their food hot, spicy and full of chillis.
It had been a wonderful experience. When I was still teaching and travelling during the summer with Glenda, I always avoided this type of things. She, on the other hand, always embraced these opportunities and I was always happy to photodocumenting her storytelling to Indonesians, Koreans and Thais.
This time it was my time to embrace it.
"Adios mis amigos," I told them in Spanish. "Fue un placer y un privilegio." I think it was the first time they'd heard Spanish.
"Goodbye my friends. It was a pleasure and a privilege."
And it really was.
November 9, 2012
Altitude: 4,300'
It's not often I want to go back into the classroom, but that's what I did on the morning of November 9th.
Yesehy's wife, Choden, whom I'd met earlier, is a secondary English teacher and I'd asked her if it was possible to visit her class. She was more than happy to have a foreigner meet her students, letting them hear properly spoken English and giving them the chance to ask questions. I was told that they see a lot of tourists, but never really get the opportunity to talk to any.
So at 9:00 a.m.we arrived at the Khuruthen Middle/Secondary School in the small city of Punhaka.
The Bhutanese school system is patterned after the Indian system which is patterned on the British system. Mid November begins the end of the school year and final exams. School will officially be over on December 17th and resume in early February.
I would be in two classes this day. Chowden, as well as a young Canadian woman from Ontario, who also teaches English, would be my hosts.
My first class was 6th Standard--a shy and pleasant group of 40 11-13 year old students packed into a small classroom. Chairs were uncomfortable, most without backs. It was clear that education in Bhutan did not have the funding more developed countries had.
Each student was dressed in identical school uniforms. Boys wore the gho and the girls the kia--traditional clothing that everyone was required to wear at work or in official functions.
When I walked in the classroom, the students immediately stood up and sad in unison..."Good morning, Sir." I was a bit taken aback. I'd not seen something like this since my days as Saint Peter's more than fifty years ago. We'd always stand when the priest walked in and said the same thing. Actually, it was kind of nice to see.
I introduced myself, told them I lived in the United States,but also in Mexico. They told me that Barrack Obama and just been reelected and that there had been a big storm in New York, but they knew nothing of Mexico, so I took this as an opportunity to teach them a bit about my adopted country.
Bhutan has three official languages--two indigenous languages and English as the common demoninator. Children began to learn it as soon as they entered school at age six.
These middle schoolers were good. Really good. They had excellent comprehension skills and were able to ask me reasonably intelligent questions. They wanted to know about my culture, food, sports and holidays. They also wanted to know my age. "I'm 63," I told them. There were a few gasps and I'm not sure why. I figured I was a pretty old guy for a Bhutanese.
For three years I taught Spanish and marvelled at how little American kids could actually do in the language. Here in Punhaka I was having a conversation with students whose language abilities exceeded those of graduating Seniors.
The second class--a small group of 25 15 year olders, were far more inquisitive. With them I spent more time on Mexico, speaking some Spanish. Actually, Bhutan and Mexico share some common traits. Both Mexico City and most of inhabited Bhutan is above 6,000' and both Mexico and Bhutan lie on the 27th parallel, so the weather is very similar. Fruits and vegetables have much in common and,like Mexicans, the Bhutanese love their food hot, spicy and full of chillis.
It had been a wonderful experience. When I was still teaching and travelling during the summer with Glenda, I always avoided this type of things. She, on the other hand, always embraced these opportunities and I was always happy to photodocumenting her storytelling to Indonesians, Koreans and Thais.
This time it was my time to embrace it.
"Adios mis amigos," I told them in Spanish. "Fue un placer y un privilegio." I think it was the first time they'd heard Spanish.
"Goodbye my friends. It was a pleasure and a privilege."
And it really was.
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