Teaching in Cambodia with the SAFE foundation

There are numerous charities and organisations all over the world and in Cambodia that enable people like me to reach out to local communities, contribute and help. It is hard to know and understand who you could and should be working with but the fact is that it is your job to be a responsible volunteer. From my limited experience, it is important to make enquiries on the ethos of the organisation you could work with and to try to have a positive impact on the people you are trying to assist.

I like the ethos of the SAFE Foundation. Lucy's experience and her values have made SAFE a charity that gives what it promises to local people. This is very important everywhere but in Cambodia it goes a long way. The direct links and the personal communication between Lucy and the people runnning local projects or charities makes a real difference. The SAFE foundation deserves our support in any possible way.

Lucy was in Cambodia working with Cambodian Child and Hope Association in June 2010. Dan Green who works with the SAFE Foundation as a photographer has documented much of the work that takes place here at the schools. In August Lucy put out another call for volunteers to teach in Cambodia.

I thought I should write a bit about what volunteering here involves. In case you are interested.

I cannot imagine a better place to help young teachers and students in the supplementary schools of the Siem Reap villages. Many of the children (and  teachers) go the public school (run by the Government) in the morning or  early afternoon,  many also work in the fields with their parents and/or work in restaurants, hotels and resorts to supplement the negligible income of their families. They still run to  English Language School, bright eyed and willing. This is because this is a community endeavour , a place where children meet and feel safe and happy.

The teachers need assistance with their pronunciation, some common grammar and syntax mistakes rooted in the absence of plural, past and future tense in the Khmer language. Repetition is the mother of knowledge. Their brains are like sponges and they are thirsty for knowledge.  For those of us who have taught in the UK and other western countries there is so much satisfaction to be gained  (from a selfish point of view I guess). There is so much respect to the teacher. Volunteers experienced in teaching can drive teachers and students here to improve vastly. Our experience in lesson planning, revision and learnging techniques could be very useful. It is important to teach sensitely respecting their ways.

The Khmer language is a soft and nasal language. Many word endings are silent. This is a sign of respect to the person you are addressing. This is why phonic teaching is an ideal method of teaching here. It is very important to help teachers and students to pronounce some sounds correctly and help them find words in Khmer that help them reproduce english sounds or offer them pronunciation techniques.

Teaching phonics in class is very simple and any type of accent (so long as it gives them a correct sound compared to their interpretation of what a word should sound like) is helpful. Teachers and students also need help with putting the correct stress on a word or a sentence.  So listening and conversation exercises are invaluable.Then of course there are many other ways that you can help. Introducing more songs, games, interactive exercises and also just working with specific teachers and schools during your stay here could be invaluable.

There are 8 schools and teachers. Each teachers runs two classes a day that consists of between 20 and 40 students (sometimes you just lose the count as they keep streaming in). Do the maths, that's a lot of students!

As the first volunteer here I think it is important to talk a lot with the teachers and Phalla about what they need. My teaching day runs from one to eight in the evening (door to door , from my hostel to the main school, the school villages and back). It is tiring but I am very keen to participate in lessons at all village schools and inspire children. It means a lot  to teachers and students  alike that Neak rou Lia makes the effort spend an evening with them. Another place where my reputation precedes me! This is another important contribution of a volunteer, their own presence.
The first part of the day involves working with the teachers for a couple of hours, through conversational, phonic and grammar exercises. The level is still elementary. The second part involves empowering them, helping them with lesson planning, time consiousness and giving them help with structuring the lesson. They discuss their concerns, new ideas, teaching and other techniques. Finally, I play the role of a teaching assistant, observing them and helping them throughout the class. Some want me to take charge but in my discussions with them I explain how important it is for them to remain in charge. We work  well together. I help with phonetic exercises, reading texts , making sentences and acting out the meaning of words (clowning around in their class).  The teachers here might be young and in need of improvement but they are all handpicked for their teaching skills and have a real charisma in communication and teaching. It is inspiring to watch them get through to children.

So this is a snippet of what you could be doing through the SAFE foundation. Think about what you could offer and before you send an email or make an enquiry I would also suggest you think about why you would be doing this. The minimum term of volunteering here is 3 weeks. The more you can give the better of course.

Lucy is an inspiring woman. She and Phalla of CCHA deserve all the support they can get. So think if you can also help in ways other than volunteering. You can also speak to me about my experience when I am back. Don't hesitate to email me at liamoutselou@gmail.com.

If you want to find out a bit more about the Siem Reap project, the SAFE foundation and Lucy Dickenson, follow this link:

http://thesafefoundation.co.uk/index.php/projects/siam-reap-cambodia/

http://thesafefoundation.co.uk/index.php/about/

Lucy's email address is:
lucy@thesafefoundation.co.uk
info@thesafefoundation.co.uk

Dan Green's work can be viewed at:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/dangreenhalloween/
httt://www.biglittlecity.com

Teacher Pat and his class

Love to all xx

At the temples

http://picasaweb.google.com/liamoutselou/AtTheTemples#

As I carefully go down the steps of an ancient temple, I mutter to myself: ‘I could actually fall here’. ‘Don’t tempt fate’, advises a warning voice',  I lift my eyes to see a young tour guide smiling at me. ‘You might not be able to see them, but the spirits are here and they might just give you a push’.

I would have hoped that the spirits and I forged a strong and lasting friendship at sunrise. Today I woke up at 5 am, and met Phalla at 530 to be at the Angor Wat temple in time for sunrise. Angor Wat is the grandest but not the oldest temple in the Angor area. Phalla has insisted he accompanies me on my first visit to the temples. 'You are my volunteer, you help me so much' , he says. But when we get there he lets me to enter Angor Wat on my own and I am grateful. This is a personal experience.

The site is busy at 6 am, busier than I would have liked. But then again this is the cool season in Cambodia when tourists flock the Angor Wat area. The dawn light is mystical and I cross the bridge that leads me to the temple site. I don’t want to miss the sunrise but it is impossible to rush here. I walk mesmerised. There is beautiful music coming from a pagoda somewhere. I climb up the steps of the imposing temple in the middle of the Anghor Wat. Something stirs inside me. I am overwhelmed by my own being. Black and white spirits, fears and hopes, baggage and memories, sadness and happiness, the pressure of the past and the bliss some of the happiest moments of my life are all unleashed in the corridors of the temple noisily floating around me. I surprisingly find a quiet east facing spot on a high point. It looks like it has been reserved for me.  I sit still as my restlessness is painfully kicking me from within. But all I am able is to be still, watching the sunrise and feeling simultaneous unease and release.  

Inch by inch the sun is rising as if lifted by a giant invisible hand. I don’t know if this is a spiritual experience or if my subconscious has cunningly timed this. I realise what I already known: I am happy. The rest:  restlessness, questioning, troubles are human phenomena. Every now and then they overwhelm but with time and wisdom it all quietens down. After all the intensity of my humanity gives me the satisfaction, the contentment I am getting from this beautiful sunrise and this quietens eveyrthing down.

Happy I  continue with my tour. I admire the bas reliefs (figures sculptured in a temple wall)   of Mahabharata, one of the nicest books I have read. The temples in Angor area narrate stories of the Buddhist and Hindu‘religion’ , which interchangeably dominated Cambodia at different times. ‘Religious’ tales are depicted amongst other tales of of the empire's past warfare and glory. This is why parts of some temples are ‘missing’. When Buddhism was dominant some Hindu stories were removed and vice versa.

About two hours later I meet a smiley Phalla. Together we visit Bayen Temple entering the Angor Thom , a complex of more temples. He then leaves me again to roam Ta Prohm temple on my own. He smiles knowingly. I have just told him I love the vegetation and nature here.  

Whilst I continue my wandering, I am occasionally faced with my contradictions as well as those of this world: a peaceful ancient site conquered by hordes of tourists who sometimes just rush to photograph themselves on a site they have seen in their guide book before they go. Sometimes they annoy me other times I meet and chat to wonderful people. But my highlight at Ta Prohm aside from the impressive maze of temples, are the trees.  I think I am a true tree hugger. Imposing, gigantic trees, with their beautiful trunks and scents greet me everywhere. Their roots embrace the temple stones: a triumphant coalition of nature and human ingenuity wins you over. There are moments when I really want to share this with people I love. I really do. As I say to Phalla later I think life is for sharing. Whilst I am content in my company and self (most of the times): I cannot think of anything that makes my joy and happiness more intense and real than sharing it.

Even driving and walking around the area is an experience in itself. At Bayen temple, I wander off to a Pagoda, where I am once again amongst Cambodians this time in their festive wear paying their respects to the Buddha. Some excitable nuns jump around making me dance to the music. I enter the Pagoda and pay my respects. I watch the pilgrims bring presents for the monks. I am filled with peace and joy. Am I really here?  Then I suddenly miss Dan so much. There you go I am a living contradiction!

Tomorrow it’s my day off as the teachers have an exam with the Ministry of education.  I might head to the Tonle Sap Lake and then deposit myself in a hammock on the banks of the western barray (a manmade Angor era lake in the Angor area). I might even have a swim.

For now I sit and sip a much needed coffee with Phalla who proudly beams at my excitement. It’s just after one in the afternoon and time to meet my lovely students again.

A Persian meets a Greek

The Tuesday and Wednesday of my first week in Cambodia are dedicated to planning, teaching, more Siem Reap scouting nd getting in touch with some of you lot (and correcting my online spelling as Mrs Beth Woollam has suggested -you cow!-).  On Wednesday I enjoy a much needed quiet morning at the Arun guest house with the female crew. If you want a laugh listen to the recording of my pitiful attempts to remember and pronounce the numbers 1-5 in Khmer after a lesson from Ming Pow and before I sip any coffee. Sorry I cannot edit audio files here so you have the full 2 minutes.  I have now learnt to count to 9 in Khmer (mainly because 6 to 9 are the sum of 5 and the rest of the numbers I know).  I  then spend my usual teaching shift from one to eight pm (door to door) first teaching the teachers and then assisting with Pat’s (one of the teachers) class.

After the classs, I turn my Cambodian phone on to find a welcoming text from Kurash. I mentioned Kush in an earlier blog entry. Kush is a good friend of Phalla who has taught and helped progress the work of the Cambodian Child and Hope Association project unimaginably. Kush has returned from Battambong and invites me and Phalla to meet him at the Golden temple (the hostel I love and where Lucy and Dan have previously stayed). The hostel is close enough to the heart of Siem Reap but nicely tucked away in a small street away from too much commotion. But then Siem Reap is not a loud club laden spot. I have been told by many people already it’s quiet compared to other neighbouring destinations like Thailand.

Kush whose roots are Iranian, looks like a Buddha, with Mediterranean and Middle Eastern features. It’s really nice to see the affinity between the two men. Kush narrates the story of their encounter and how the CCHA collaboration followed on from that. Phalla was a venerable monk with a golden heart and willingness to help educate the children of his community. If I understand correctly he had already started the project when he met Kush but was still practicing to be a monk. Kush went to Phalla for meditation and as the two men got to know each other and talk it all kicked off. Since then he taught at Phalla’s school, liaised with Lucy on Safe Foundation matters, after Safe offered support to the CCHA. Phalla has given up being a monk for the time being as this imposed a lot of limitations on doing essential business needed to progress the work of CCHA and interacting with volunteers and supporters (e.g. no handling of money, no close interaction with women, no driving and transporting oneself amongst other but my knowledge is very limited on this). Progressing CCHA also requires much of his studying/practising time. There have been a series of wonderful coincidences that have brought Phalla, Kush, Safe and Dan together and here I am joining in. It is a pleasure to sit and talk with Kush animatedly. I love the soft speaking Khmer people but equally like the fire hearted people that Kush comes from. Phalla laughs out loud full heartedly when he hears us speak. This is a really nice evening. We talk about another project supporting disabled mine victims that Kush works with, our lives and of course Kush’s time with Dan and Lucy (and the yapping dog-Dan by the way the dog now lives in Battambong but a lovely white cat sits happily on Kush’s lap purring away).

And so at the Golden Temple of Siem Reap and in the presence of a gentle Khmer, a Persian meets a Greek…

'I am able' at the Angor night market

Photo link:

http://picasaweb.google.com/liamoutselou/IAmAbleAtTheNightMarket#

You will probably think that I have nothing better to do than wander in markets. I see markets as hubs of activity that depending on their location can reveal the character and culture of the place and different neighborhoods.

Tonight I rent a bicycle, making sure that the front light works. I am such a geek; I have actually brought my bike lights with me. I must be the only cyclist with flashing lights in Siem Reap. I really think that cycling is the safest and nicest form of transport for me at night. The roads are not so busy, I avoid walking in dark and quiet parts on my own, and I can go everywhere I want. I think it is important to be an experienced cyclist and it helps that I can drive and cycle on both sides of the road being from Greece (I had to blow my own trumpet here). The ride along the river at night is wonderful. It is warm but comfortable. I cannot even remember what rain and cold is like.

I have slowed down and adapted my rhythms to Cambodia. I have also become as cheeky a cyclist as the Cambodian ones. Sod politeness, this is survival time.

I'll be honest: I don't actually know how I found the old Market but I am actually there after a long cycle. There is a bicycle parking shed for 1000 riel. The Angor night market stretched out under a bamboo roof. It is vast and beautifully lit. At its entrance I recognise the traditional Khmer music band that Dan has filmed. I also recognise the sound of the music from my early morning wake up call the other day. I observe the instruments. I think I am going to get me one of these string instruments that looks like a cross between a mini berimbau (capoeira music : one string Brazilian instrument) and a Cretan lyra. Not yet though.

I know that some of you (particularly Elpida) might find it very strange that I have not written much about food yet. It is possibly because I don't know where to begin. I am in culinary heaven, taking notes and learning things. I want to savour everything but my stomach is not begin enough and I don’t want to seem greedy too. At the old market I eat a mango pancake, with cream, chocolate and roasted almonds. What more need Isay...

There is a beautiful bamboo built bar amongst short palm trees in a hidden corner of the market. There are a couple of westerners including me but here the people are mainly Cambodian. A small stage is set up ready for a performance. ' I am able' is  a local disabled community group aiming to raise awareness on human rights of the handicapped. The young actors and actresses are landmine and polio victims. Through performance and art: playing music, singing and dancing, performing their own poems and choreography they highlight they difficulties faced by the disabled . Different acts narrate individual stories and show the hurt and despair of the individual as they enter a world of discrimination. There are some painstakingly beautiful songs. Some fighting scenes. Some positive messages as communities understand the drama of an individual and embrace them back in society restoring their hope.

The lady serving me tells me that this is just one group , there are so many. It almost seems that the frequent occurrence of such accidents plays down their tragedy. I guess all human being become desensitised when faced with a tragedy so common. There are still many landmines. Unexploded Ordnance (UXO) is still a problem in Cambodia and Laos. I know that Koosh a friend of Phalla, Dan and Lucy works with another charity supporting landmine victims. I will meet him in a couple of days on his return  from Battamang ( another city nearby).

Why am I the only person watching this? Why are all these people passing by not looking?

I sip my beer , chat to some people and watch the show.

At the end of the show everyone bows at me and the thank me one by one making eye contact. I am almost embarrassed. I think Cambodian culture is rubbing off on me.

My name is Donkey

Today I teach my first class. Phalla and I have already talked a lot about what he wants and needs from me. I am after all his first volunteer through SAFE. His priority is to free some of his time by helping his young teachers improve their English and lesson planning skills. I will be doing this every day for two or three hours throughout my stay. Then I will observe and assist with teaching at schools in different villages. This way I can meet the children, help them with correct pronunciation, and introduce new ideas (and games!). I think my mere presence in the various local classes is a present to the children, particularly those living in some of the most remote villages. Their enthusiasm and receptiveness was apparent on Saturday. I can’t wait to meet all of them.

My teachers’ class takes place at the Pagoda school, about a kilometre away from Phalla’s village. I am so happy to be back on this wonderful site.

I start by introducing my self in Khmer. As I do this there are some serious, almost expressionless faces and some giggles on the other side of the class. Now Phalla also giggles and stands up to explain that Lia in Cambodia means donkey.

So I stand up and say:

‘My name is Donkey but you can call me Ass’.

The young teachers

The Uniting Market

Uniting market photo link:

http://picasaweb.google.com/liamoutselou/UnitingMarket#

On Monday morning I head to a market near my hostel. The Uniting Market is in the opposite direction from the Siem Reap tourist hub. The avenue I walk on is bustling. Young children in the Cambodian school uniform, white shirts and blue trousers or skirts, cycle against the flow traffic, on the road side or pavements.  Nearly all the children and young people wave at me excitedly. Some locals (and there are only locals here at least at this time of day), look at me bemused. It is a hot day, and I am walking without a hat, on my own.

The market reveals itself on my left. This is a local people’s market, a cornucopia of foods and goods. The clothes here are reasonably priced. This is not the place to find colourful silks and traditional wear.  This is a real people’s market selling what is affordable and practical. People smile, some are surprised to see me here but most remain indifferent.  Colourful baskets filled with chillies, vegetables, fruit. Fish and meat is sold at the back of the market. I am the silent visitor.  People lie in hammocks, they watchTV, talk to each other. There are internal eateries offering simple delicacies. I don’t know where to turn first.  

A gentle pull on my hand and I turn to face a little girl who generously offers me her smile. She takes me with her and I follow her to her family. She has a loud older brother who jumps around me excitedly whilst speaking in fast Khmer. Am I picking up a different accent? I happily sit around them enjoying the human interaction of smiles and sounds. When I leave the little girl gives me a sad smile.

Bows of respect and a couple of offers of goods follow in the market lanes. I take a left turn again to be faced by a beautiful little boy, a little Buddha leaning forward towards me. His father looks at him with so much love.

Photos and words are limited and cannot convey sounds, scents, affection and human connections. I still wish I could write better. I wish I could take better photos and that I had a better camera. Mr Green be prepared to give me an intensive course on basics in photography on my return.

I am the enchanted wanderer. My senses are sharpened and I am so emotional ( pulse Michalaki mou , I am still a pulse). I see more children and spend some time with another sweet child who is my host for a while. Children are Cambodia’s treasure; I hope Cambodians understand this and do their utmost to protect their little hearts and their health. They open up their hearts , reach out to you, lead you to their families (who might have otherwise not bothered ), they try , they give and don’t expect much. I really bow to them.

I reach a banana woman (surrounded by hundreds of lying and hanging bananas) and am approached by young man who offers his help. I explain that I just want to look around, maybe buy a hat, we have a chat about what I am doing in Cambodia. And then I hear the cursed word again. Barrang stands out amongst other words and syllables in a woman’s conversation behind me. I turn and see an older lady looking at me in an unfriendly manner. I cannot blame her. I am a pale European looking woman, conjuring up images of past stories that have been passed on to her. Respectfully I say, ‘ Teh Barrang Ming’ (Not Barrang auntie). I turn to the young man . ‘Teh Barrang Orm’ (no barrang brother). ‘Yes’ he smiles reassuringly ‘ You are not Barrang’.

New visitor at the Old Market

It’s great to be living with local people and my priority here is to work with the SAFE foundation, help Phalla, teach teachers and children. After a nap I feel a great urge to get out. I want to meet other people and hear what brings them here. My hostel is in the quiet side of the city (quiet at night and not when there are celebrations at dawn). I decide to do the Tuk Tuk thing. Tuk tuk’s are wonderful moped led carriages, typical of the place. The come in different shapes and are colourfully decorated. Today my carriage is a bat mobile!

In the streets of the old market, people try to sell me things, give me rides, feed me but I don’t feel hassled. A polite no ‘ teh orkoun’ goes a long way. I don’t like everything I see: some rude American tourists with derogatory behaviour, a fifty year old man hugging and fondling a teenage Cambodian boy. 

My mission is to taste the amok fish dish that Lucy has told me about. I find a beautiful looking restaurant with very reasonable prices. At the Angor Palm the young waitresses and waiters are extremely nice and caring. Possibly because they help me practice my language skills. I don’t know all the ingredients of amok fish (yet) but the dish consists of fried and beautifully spiced fish, flavoursome greens and some type of cabbage. It is (of course) served with rice. My neighbouring table is excitedly celebrating a birthday. Geni, introduces herself and gives me the thumps up for my choice of dish. Genie is Australian, used to be a teacher and is travelling through Cambodia , to Vietnam and Laos with her husband and two friends. We talk about the Safe Foundation (they love the ethos and jot down the website address), my home in Wales, Geni and Peter’s visit to Wales (and their love of St David’s), Phalla and the Cambodian Child and Hope Association, their travels, and my homeland Greece (as well as their Greek connections-everyone’s got one right?). The young waiters come in and out of the conversation, first joining when they hear where I am from and adding me to their list of ‘first sightings’. They also (like my Korean passport control man) have never met a Greek before. ‘Perhaps all Greeks are as friendly?’ they say. Here I am again in the position of a national ambassador. Perhaps I think and then perhaps not, particularly at current times.  Peter on the other hand just says, ‘Well I have never met a Greek with an English accent before’. Hmmph, Welsh accent Peter, Welsh….And just like that I am invited to stop by when in Melbourne.