A Sea of Teachers-in-training before Me

DATELINE: July 30, 2013
Patricia E Lyon

The young men and women arrived 15 minutes before class was to start. At first, they just peeked in the windows and doors. Then they ventured inside. I wondered if I should start early, but then we decided to wait until a few more came. They sat on the floor. It was somewhat difficult for the young women wearing navy wrap skirts made from men's suiting. Both the young men and the young women wore long-sleeved pale blue shirts. Around their necks were long ribbons with photo i.d's.

I had all my lesson plans printed on the green board with white chalk. Mony came in and out, because he was also translating for Deanna teaching English in a far building. Makara, one of the directors at the school came in to translate and sew at the same time. She also happens to be Mony's sister, and daughter of Marath, director of Kessararam Primary School. It's all connected.

This was our first day to teach at Siem Reap Teachers Training College. It began as a 2 year program, now changing to a four year program.

I prepared all my projects for hand sewing because I did not know someone had already bought them 10 sewing machines.

I was a little worried that they might be disappointed in the projects. Instead, they asked to skip the break to keep sewing. Then they asked if they could stay a third hour to keep sewing. I said I could not, because I did not bring a third project. We finished pin cushion for safety and two yo yos. Tomorrow tie purse.

They like. They all came up to the front of the class and bowed to me with hands touching each other and pointed fingers. In perfect English they thanked me. A teacher's dream.

A torrential rain fell off and on during class. As we left, buckets came down. Mony tried to move the car closer, but he managed to park under a downspout. A very strong car wash. A student held a flowered umbrella for us. We took Prem to his car. He rolled up his pants to open the iron gate by the road. When we arrived at the hotel, Kosahl had made 4 desserts from tapioca. One had palm sugar sauce. One had coconut milk. One was baked in a fire like bratwurst. One was steamed. We ate all. All, all, all. The rains kept coming and we did not care. I miss my family and friends, but all I can think is "wish you were Here". Really.