Tales from a Travelling Teacher: Cross-Cultural Perspectives in the Search for Educational Relevance

By Denise Lai, BA, BSocSc (Hons), MEd

Day 1
We have been away from Singapore for no more than a day, but we are about as far removed from its comforts and the material-trappings of city-life as one can imagine! All around, I am reminded of the vast differences that can co-exist against the other in this condition that we call "human": rich versus poor, clean versus dirty, wanted versus unwanted, respected versus disdained. And all around I wonder if I will be able to accomplish anything in this journey at all, for how could there be any relevance in my supposed skills as a teacher, or in the language that I will use, in this quest to help, or even to communicate with, a generation of children whom I have so little in common with, and have never met before?

We finally arrive in Rajpur, some 24 hours after leaving Singapore. The road to this little town - nestled at the foot of the Himalayan mountains – has been nothing less than sheer confusion or pure danger at its most exciting moments. But here we are, and the building that the play-school is housed in is no doubt the cleanest and the brightest along the street! We sleep on the grounds of an old estate owned by the great-grandchildren of the gentleman who first translated the Bible into the Tibetan language; relieved, at the very least, that we are safe.

"The Creative Learning Centre"	"overturned lorry"	"scene from lodgings"
"scene from lodgings" "bedroom"

Day 2
We make our way to the Creative Learning Centre, a play-school established by an English couple who have been friends of mine for almost 20 years. The wife, one of my best friends, has struggled with cultural and language difficulties, as well as water, electrical (and monkey!) problems for the past 3 years, just so as to get her play-school to the operational level that it is in now.

But I am so impressed. The children, an international mix of Indian, Tibetan, Nepalese and even American and Dutch, are beautiful, calm and well-behaved. They do not shirk at our presence at all. They are curious and happy, forgiving and generous. And I take everything in: the sheer beauty of the surrounding physical landscape, the warmth in the school’s environment, and the children’s contentment, even in the face of space constraints and the relative lack of toys and materials to play with or to explore safely.

"block-play"	"writing at the table"

But then the limitations become more obvious as the day wears on and my observations become more coherent to myself. There is an over-emphasis on learning how to write, a tendency that I later learn is consistent throughout most schools and educational institutions in the country. There is most certainly a neglect in the development of a child’s "whole" self, with fewer opportunities given to the development of gross-motor, language and self-help skills, as well as symbolic-play activities and creative-thinking abilities.

But I check myself to stop thinking like an imperialist, and start to ask questions of my friend, and the teachers who are there. What would you like me to teach or to show you? What do you want changed, if anything? Would the children in this centre benefit from these changes, or would my ideas be alien concepts from a world that they might never meet or see?

The responses come quick and fast. "Teach us how to teach more and better" is the general refrain, and so I start the first in a series of talks and presentations that will wear me out completely by the end of the week. But the teachers are hungry to learn. And I will find out tomorrow, the children too.

"learning: semi-Himalayan style!"
"chasing away the monkeys: female style!"	"training: semi-Himalayan style!"

Day 3
I teach on Domains of Development and share ideas, culled from years of writing lesson-plans, on the kinds of playful activities that can best match Objectives in Early Childhood Development and Education.

Joyce, Luci and I have made maracas and streamers from re-cycled materials that my resourceful friend stored away a few months previously in the school-pantry. A quick drive and walk along the village-road has also yielded some treasures: colourful plastic jugs and kilogrammes of dhall to teach "pouring", and yards of translucent fabric, which we cut into scarves for dancing.

We swing into action 15 minutes into the day, singing lap- and action-songs, hip-hip-hopping with the shakers, then swaying to the rhythm of a slow song. The children and teachers seem a little overwhelmed by the speed and intensity with which I am encouraging them to sing and to dance.

But we press on. Soon after, I show the children how to pour dhall from jug to jug without spilling, a substitute activity for writing, and just as effective, if not more appropriate, for 2- to 4-year-olds learning to co-ordinate what their eyes are seeing with what their hands are doing. And the children are nothing but completely enthralled. For the first time, we start to see them getting edgy and spontaneous, as they wait for their turn to come up to the table to demonstrate this inherent, but newly-discovered capacity: a capacity with adaptive "survival" relevance regardless of linguistic or cultural distinctions.

And still we press on. I am asked to show the teachers and children what they can do with playdough. I end up asking for cooking-oil to knead the dough into a softer consistency for little fingers first, then incorporate a dramatic skit where I make "cookies", then share them out, both correctly and wrongly, to teach basic addition and subtraction skills.

This time, I can see that the teachers are starting to "loosen up". They laugh and comment as the show proceeds, and I am starting to feel very hopeful; hopeful that their more prevalent "top-down" teaching methodology might be replaced, even gradually, with consistent opportunities to discuss and to negotiate, both amongst themselves, and in collaboration with the children in their classes.

Perhaps also, I start to think, that within these interactions will spark a level of creativity in the centre that will breed an internal courage to be different, to push forwards the frontiers of knowledge that they have, in the past, been dependent on. I begin to imagine and to believe in the possibility that they might now be able to conquer new and abstract worlds of both the Imagination and of Thought, and then to see the further impact that this would have on Educational Systems and Processes, both within their own centre, and locally within the other educational establishments in the towns around them. Surely, the generations to come could, and would only benefit, from such a dynamism and "life".

"Music & Movement in Rajpur"	"a little here, and a little here"
"steady now"	"making cookies"

Day 4
I wake up with a migraine and a bad cough that I suspect is bacterial in origin. The fan has failed, and the taps do not yield any water whatsoever. We cannot even brush our teeth to get ready for the morning’s activities. It is our last day with the teachers and children of Rajpur, and we have to make every minute of whatever is left count. Finally, our hostess arrives with a pail of hot water that we use to make ourselves look as reasonably clean and as decent as possible. We set off, but I am feeling almost physically shattered.

My friend has been hopeful that we would show her team of teachers how to use Drama in lessons, and we launch into a performance of “Little Red Riding Hood” soon after arriving. Afterwards, the children take turns to gamely dress-up and copy the actions and sounds of the character-parts in the story. The local teachers get involved also, and the enthusiasm within the room is both joyful and infectious.

We end with a puppet-story, and then say our “good-byes” with smiles, hugs, and photos. The effort to visit the centre, to train its teachers and to teach the children, has been a resounding success, evidenced not by how much we had been able to “show” them, but by how much had been so warmly “accepted” and absorbed. Whatever future changes or improvements might come would rest, solely and completely, on the initiatives and decisions of the local teachers, not us, after our departure.

"the wolf dies!"	"there is a wolf in the forest"	"encore!"

Day 5
I start the morning with a meeting, whilst Luci and Joyce make a second visit to a Girls’ Home (for abused and unwanted girls). Educational provisions for children with special-needs are scanty and inadequate, and I have been faced with need after need, appeal after appeal, in the afternoons and in the evenings of my stay, for so many sub-groups of this society are marginalized. I feel as if I am back working in the Singapore of 15 years ago, but sadly realize too that the rate of change in this country is likely to take longer, with its fewer resources and a poorer infrastructure.

I bid farewell to my friends, such brave and courageous individuals who have given up their careers and the comforts of a secure land to establish hope in a place where little exists. And then we start the long journey back to Singapore, believing that we will visit this beautiful, and oh-so-full-of-possibilities wilderness, again.

If you would like to help the charity agencies and organizations that have been established in Rajpur, such as the Women’s Development Centre or the Girls’ Home mentioned in this article, please contact Mrs Denise Lai at weecare@singnet.com.sg Confidential information about these centres and their specific needs will only be released to you then. Thank you!!