Boleh Cakap Bahasa Inggeris?

Here’s a typical situation: I walk into a store. I (try to) conduct all of my business in Malay, just so I can practice, and maybe pick up a new phrase here and there, and generally develop an appreciation for the culture. I take what I learn and sometimes try and speak Malay with the teachers at my school friends from town. After I stumble out a few sentences of Bahasa Melayu, many say, “You’ve been here only seven months and you can speak Malay better than most of our students can speak English, and they have been learning for over ten years. You must be very smart.”


I am not.


The difference between my learning situation and Malay students in completely different. My high school French teacher, Madame Sylvestre (if you are reading this, I would like you to know that I use many of your lessons in my own classroom) said that the only way to really learn a language is to be completely immersed in it, to live it. That simply does not happen in the Malaysian school system, and in fact getting students to try and speak in English is like pulling teeth and often requires rather severe consequences if such rules are to be taken seriously.
That is why I, with the help of many teachers from Sekolah Menengah Kebangsaan Chu-kai (we would say Chukai High School, as Chukai is the name of the town where I now live), helped to create and implement the school’s first ever English Camp. The point: create an environment where English only is to be spoken. It would not be the same as, for example, travelling to and English speaking country, but it might help. Often, I have noticed that most students are reasonably good at listening to and reading English, but they really need help in constructing proper spoken and written sentences. In order to avoid being laughed at, many simply try and speak as little as possible in English class. I am not joking, even in my own classes where things are very informal and very laid back, I have had to chase students to the front of the room with a stick in order to make them read their sentences.
I of course do it in a way that makes them laugh, and if really necessary maybe I will poke them in the arm or something. Some of you might wonder if it is a good idea to have such physical contact with my students, but in my defence, students still get caned for bad behaviour, so a little poke by comparison isn’t anything to speak of, and in fact most teachers laugh at the sight. If I did not have this in my Bag of Tricks, some students would never get up and would instead stare me down until I gave up and moved on to someone else. I really just can’t understand why so many children seem to be frightened of English, I mean I could easily understand discomfort or hesitation, but there is an element of all-out resistance running through the kids. I have said before that students who try their best are ridiculed and looked on as if they weren’t really Malay, but I’ve also noticed that when others make mistakes, the first reaction of the class is to point and laugh. This job can be rather frustrating sometimes.


At any rate, this English camp aimed to provide a day where those hesitations and social weaknesses would be shattered. Applications were handed out, and only those students who submitted applications that showed genuine interest and enthusiasm were allowed to attend. The result was a gathering of over 100 students who had the skill and will to really take a crack at improving their English proficiency and confidence. The rules were simple: speak only English, and have fun. I thought it would be easy enough to implement, but I was mistaken. Not only was it difficult to get the children to speak English, but even some of the teachers had a rough time following the rules! The punishment for getting caught was to wear a sign around the neck that said “I am sorry for breaking the rules!” Although this was not my idea, I thought it would suffice, as the children seem to fear humiliation more than almost anything else.

By the end of the day, some students were wearing five or more signs, and we in fact ran out. SInce teachers and students alike were all wearing signs, I think the punishment just lost it effectiveness. I’ll have to think of something else to keep them in line next time.
In the end, I would say that the camp was an overall success, and those basic goals were more or less achieved, but I did not have any moments that took my breathe away. I think the students enjoyed the whole thing, and spent the day wrapping their minds around contests, activities, and puzzles. They tackled these obstacles in groups of ten that were mixed in gender, skill, and age, something that I think rarely happens during the course of normal school activities and not only helped the students overcome their own hesitation, but also gave them an opportunity to get out of their shells and do something different. There are some that may disagree, but if you ask me I think the amount of gender separation within the schools is sometimes taken to an unhealthy extreme. Because the children grow up with very very little contact with the opposite sex, when they are finally placed in an environment where
such separation is not present, some have problems coping in a reasonable way. Several of the women from this program, none of whom adhere to the Malay rules of dress, have met with significant harassment from both their male counter-parts and from locals outside the school. In the more rural areas, some refuse to go out at night by themselves because they feel unsafe. After just seven months of living here, I find myself sometimes uncomfortable around attractive women who are not wearing the traditional female outfit, not because I don’t like them but simply because my mind seems to have forgotten how to deal with it. This is surprising to me, and I’m sure to you too, as I was raised in a place where men and women are treated, for the most part, as equals and are able to dress as they please. If after seven months, I can feel a change in my own reactions, I wonder what it feels like to be separated for fifteen or more years, and then thrown into a place without the same rules.
That, however, is an issue that I will not be able to discuss thoroughly for quite some time, as well as a few others that have been building in my mind since my arrival. I will, for now, only concentrate on the challenges of my daily life here, as well as the tremendous bene-fits. And speaking of benefits, I had the privilege of going to the Rainforest Music Festival in Malaysian Borneo last week. The experience was absolutely amazing, and I can’t wait to tell you more about it in the next post!

Stranger?

Life in Malaysia is becoming less and less foreign to me whereas the idea of living in America now seems distant, far away, and surreal. Now, it is difficult to imagine a place with so many freedoms, so many different things to do, and so many complications. Here, my life is simple. I teach English during the day, and cycle at night. I don’t have a car, I don’t have any other responsibilities except the ones that I left for myself at home. Things like planning a career or finding a place to settle seem more and more distant the longer I spend here. When I first started writing this blog, it was a very personal way for me to stay in touch with people at home, and let everyone at home know what I was doing, as well as being a therapeutic way to help me deal with such a big change.
But that my American home now seems like such alien idea that it is difficult for me to actually picture the people for whom I write. On any given afternoon, in Malaysia, I can ride my bicycle into town and discover new and completely different from everything that I have already experienced. Speaking enough of the local language helps, as locals tend to be very surprised when a white guy cycles into town and starts speaking the language. Most of the “orang putih” that pass through this area are on their way to somewhere else, do not speak any Bahasa Melayu, and do not stay long. I do believe that I am the only white man that lives around here, and for that matter the entire district. But now this is my home. I can actually say that I live here. And I do; I do my laundry here, go to the bank, cook, clean, and work in this community. At first, I felt like a tourist, and in some ways I still am, but the stares are less frequent and what used to be radical changes are now daily routines.
My work is extremely satisfying and even though I face challenges that can be quite complicated (finding toilet paper in an unprepared pinch can be like trying to defuse a timebomb), I am more than happy. So much so that I have decided to stay another year in hopes of seeing some of my projects continued to a higher level of completion, as well as giving the next generation of Fulbright English Teaching Assistants the tools an they need to have as wonderful an experience as me. There are some in my program who have come up against challenges that they were unable to overcome by themselves, and hopefully with an advocate like me around, such things will not pose such a problem in the future.
That said, the people that I meet here are made off something different than those back in America, and it is difficult for me to explain exactly how. Sometimes I wonder why exactly people are so nice to me, and they are extremely welcoming, hospitable, polite, and generous. One of the teachers at my school comes in about once a week with a half gallon of iced tea and comes back a few days later to pick up the bottle. She never asks for anything or tells me why she gives me tea, yet sure enough, each week a slightly different but equally delicious variety arrives in my classroom. “Good for your voice,” she says. I spent a week touring peninsular Malaysia from north to south with a wonderful Malaysian family, the same one that welcomed me into their home when I first arrived. They are some of the most wonderful people I have met in my time here, and I will not forget their generosity. Not only that, but I got a chance to improve my language skills with the smartest seven-year-old teacher I know, and she was very willing to answer any of my questions. And of all my students here, official and unofficial, she seems to be the most bright and interested in learning English.
I have recently learned that a few teachers from my school, who I work with very closely, will be attending an international course in teaching English in just a few days. Not only will this course be held in America, but to make matters even stranger, it will be held at the University of Connecticut, just forty miles from my hometown. I’ve told me parents to look them up, and they have agreed to have them over for dinner, and maybe even a bluegrass show. When I signed up for this program, I expected to be completely removed from almost everything and anything American, but it turns out that the world is smaller than I imagined, and hopefully my family will be able to return some of the kindness that these teachers have shown me. I had no idea that I would turning my own family into diplomats when I agreed to come to here! I hope they will forgive me, but I think that it will be good for everyone involved to meet and share some food. It might be a little tricky to arrange a Halal (similar to Kosher) meal, but I think the obstacle can be overcome without too much difficulty. I would also like my teachers to see where I go to church, where I went to high school, and maybe even a few of the places I used to work so they can get a real feel for what my life was like back in the U.S. I’m thrilled at the possibility, and I hope my parents can get a better understanding of where I now live and who I have been hanging around with so much.
And even more than that, I hope that the All Souls Unitarian Universalist congregation of New London, Connecticut will be a truly welcoming community and show my Malaysian friends the same love and understanding with which I was raised. Some things about my church might be difficult for them to understand, like the lack of a definite creed or the potpourri of religious ideas (after all, the minister wears a robe with the symbols of every major faith embroidered on the front). Not only that, but there is a statue of Buddha and a stained-glass window of Jesus in the sanctuary. Nevertheless, if circumstances permit, I am excited that people from opposite ends of the planet will have a chance to meet and share a few commons experiences. Since both parties are quite familiar with me, I don’t think ice-breakers will be a problem. And mom, if you are reading this, please don’t show them my naked baby pictures. I’m begging you.

Next week: “English in Camp”

Along with Pn Aminah, one of the teachers who is coincidentally heading to Connecticut in a few days, I was able to put help together an entire day of English activities for one hundred and twenty of my students. It was a huge success! I think those students who participated had a great time and got to see English used in a context far removed from that which they are accustomed. All day, contests were held in various English activities, as well as a Frank Sinatra sing-a-long, and a To most of the students, English is the official language of being told what to do. Elders always tell them that they must learn English and that English is important for their future. It is also a large part of their university entrance exams and will play a major role in whether or not these students can find a job after they graduate. There are thousands of bright energetic young college graduates in Malaysia that are currently unemployed because they lack English proficiency. In short, English is the language of responsibility for the kids. This camp was fun, competitive, and exciting. I think they appreciated the change of teaching style, to say the least.