Master Becomes Student

Today’s article is written for the Reach To Teach Teach Abroad Blog Carnival, a monthly series that focuses on providing helpful tips and advice to ESL teachers around the globe. I'll be posting a new ESL related article on my blog on the 4th of every month. Check back for more articles, and if you'd like to contribute to next month's Blog Carnival, please get in touch with Dean at dean@reachtoteachrecruiting.com, and he'll let you know how you can start participating!  To read other blogs from overseas teachers, click the link!

As an ESL teacher, sometimes it’s easy to forget how challenging the process of learning a new language can be.  I often find myself focusing so much on writing lesson plans, preparing materials, attending meetings, and doing paperwork, that I start to lose sight of what’s most important: the individual needs of the students!  Sure, we’re all trained to understand the range of learning styles and how to deliver lessons to reach type of learner.  But sometimes all the best practices get lost in translation, pun intended.

What'd you say??
(BIS Vietnam)

But all the challenges and frustrations of language learning are shocked back into my system any time the tables are turned and I become the student.  

My turn in the desk
(Shane Taiwan)

As a high school and college student, I studied German and Spanish, and I felt fairly confident using the languages in class or out in the real world.  However, living in Taiwan and studying Mandarin Chinese, I quickly realized how very different learning the most-spoken language in the world was going to be.  Initials, finals, tones, Simplified, Traditional, pinyin? Forget it.

Sometimes I want to cover my eyes, too!
(Shane Taiwan)

But the desire to communicate with the local people drove me to keep trying, and sitting in class trying to listen to and speak the language truly opened my eyes to the struggles my students were likely facing in my English classes.  If I was having difficulty understanding and pronouncing the sounds in Chinese, they were probably toiling to do the same in English.

Too much work!
(Shane Taiwan)

Must.... learn.... English....
(BIS Vietnam)

Before I moved to Vietnam, I thought “Great! Vietnamese will be much easier than Chinese!  At least they use an alphabet I recognize.”  Ohhhhhh, how wrong I was.  Vietnamese is no easier to learn than Chinese.  It has more tones, a bunch of extra vowels, and a pronunciation pattern that I find beyond mind-boggling.

Forget tests. Let's just play games!
(ILA Vietnam)

When I’m in class as a student, it brings to mind how it feels to be on the other side of the desk.  I’m reminded that as a teacher, I need to provide my students with more than just vocabulary and grammar lessons.  Students want to learn, but they also want to have fun and feel safe.  And THAT is what teaching is supposed to be all about!

I had my fair share of fun with this class!
(Shane Taiwan)

Vung Tau: Jesus and a Sunset

Having grown weary of life in the city and in desperate need of some fresh air, my roommates and I planned a weekend away in Vung Tau.  Plus, why the heck not?  A mere hour-and-a-half boat ride away, Vung Tau was a quick and cheap alternative to my typical weekend of boozing on Bui Vien, followed by the new two-day hangovers that have plagued my life. 

We made our way down to the Saigon River and boarded the Petro Express high-speed hydrofoil ferry out of town.

Nick, Sarah, and I aboard the catamaran

Our hotel was a short but hazardous walk from the pier, as the afternoon rain made the polished stone sidewalks slippery.  We tossed our bags into the room and set off for a stroll along the beach.  Walking down Front Beach, stopping for an intensely sweet blended coffee, and watching the sunset from the seawall: what better way to get away from the noise and chaos of Saigon?

Front Beach

Post-coffee crash

Vung Tau

Photo credit: Sarah :)

Sunset, Vung Tau

That night, we set out on a mission to find a seafood restaurant recommended by one of Sarah’s friends.  He couldn’t remember the name of the place, but told us it was next to the Du Duc Inn.  In our search, we stumbled into a Daffy Duck bar that was near the address he reckoned, only to find ourselves sipping beer in what must have been a brothel.  Tons of young Vietnamese women in very high heels and very tiny dresses, bending over pool tables to make a shot and cozying up to icky old expat men.  We ran away quick.

Luckily, we found the seafood place and wiped those images away with delicious hot pot and more beer.  Then it was off to bar hop in the strange establishments on the beachfront.  My favorite was a Harley Davidson bar, which had nothing more to do with Harleys than the name and this beer koozie. 

Photo credit: Sarah x2

Bright and early the next morning, we devoured our breakfast, choked down some tar/coffee from the hotel dining room, and flagged down a cab to go see Jesus.

Yes, Jesus.

For whatever reason, there is a large statue of Jesus in this seaside Vietnamese town.  He stands atop the hill and looks out over the water.  We climbed one million steps (definitely NOT built for Western feet) in sweltering heat and encountered various religious sculptures and carvings along the ascent.  One guy even stopped us and asked to take a photo of us posing with this girlfriend.  Maybe he thought we were disciples.

Jesus!

Final steps to glory

Mural on the Jesus statue

Angel

At the top of the climb, we found Jesus.  He stands with arms outstretched, and you can go inside him!  I took off my shoes, checked that my clothes wouldn’t offend, and entered the.... Jesus.  A spiral staircase led us up to a viewing deck, standing on the shoulders of Christ.  Amazing views.  Rusty nails.

So much work to get to Jesus!

Looking out over Jesus' arm

Vung Tau from Jesus' shoulders

Vung Tau

Nails to deter tourists from climbing out on Jesus' arms.
I only realized they were there after jabbing my hand down on one.  Probably dying of tetanus now.

Jesus and an island

Feeling as if we’d just wandered the desert for 40 years, we savored an ice cream and made a beeline for the beach.  Unfortunately, our dip in the sea lasted less than 30 minutes.  As an ominous black cloud peeked over the mountain, we scrambled to collect our clothes and cameras and ran to find cover before the flood.  No ark in sight, so we settled for pizza.  Fair trade, if you ask me.

I’m pretty sure Jesus would have turned unleavened bread into pizza, if he’d had just one more miracle.