View from the Sidelines

Just as language and culture are different here in Indonesia, school is different. How different and in exactly what ways are still questions I am trying to answer (and probably will be grappling with for the next two or more years!).

Of course, in some ways, school looks the same. There is the school building with classrooms and an office. There are teachers and there is a principal. Students attend classes such as math, science, Indonesian, English, and P.E. My students, much like the American middle schooler, are awkward and endearing.

This is the view walking into my school.

But when I walk into the teacher’s lounge at the beginning of my day and am expected to shake all the hands of my fellow female teachers (who all sit on the same side of the room), but none of the males’ (sitting on the other side), unless they offer first, I know that I have entered a different world. In this world I am the only woman not wearing a headscarf. In this world teachers leave school grounds at 10am to attend a wedding. When the teachers leave at 10am, they are no longer responsible for the students – neither to ensure that they get home safely, or that they do not wreak havoc on the school facilities. And in this world the students manage to arrive home in one piece and, to my knowledge, abstain from wreaking havoc. This is not America, my friends.

Students performing a dance routine for our end of year competitions.

All of this means that I have had to do two things since getting here: observe and wait.

Peace Corps recognizes that we volunteers, some of us with very limited classroom teaching experience, are being plunged into an unknown world that looks sometimes misleadingly similar to the system we were schooled in back home. As such, we are expected to observe before taking on the classroom alongside our Indonesian counterparts. I settled with my counterpart on an observation period of two weeks. Pretty simple, right?

Apparently not in this world. This is where the “wait” part comes in. I have been here at permanent site for over two months now. The first two weeks students were taking end of year tests. Then we had a week of “class meeting,” which consisted of competitions amongst the students. Then we had a teacher’s workshop (that was quite good). Then two weeks of vacation. After that we had one week of school with a few sporadic, extremely short classes and lots of students running around and doing things to celebrate Ramadan. Then we had two more weeks of vacation. Finally, this week, we went back to school in what I thought would be full force.

Rookie mistake. While I have now attended a handful of classes – possibly adding up to a week’s worth of observation – this week’s lessons have constantly been interrupted by teachers being out, a wedding, and a meeting amongst all the Ministry of Religious Affairs teachers in our district for Halal bi Halal – a post Ramadan tradition of gathering and asking one another for forgiveness.

A more intimate gathering of just the teachers from my school and their families for Halal Bi Halal.

Before you, or I, jump to any negative judgments about the efficacy of this system, I want to point out that these are early days – both in the sense of the school year and my experience here. I see that it is important for teachers to feel the sense of community built around events like weddings and Halal bi Halal. I don’t want to diminish that in any way. I also hear that things will pick up and become relatively more consistent after this first week.

But, as important as it has been for me to observe these past few (sort-of) weeks of school, I am tired of waiting. I feel like the little kid on the edge of the basketball court jumping up and down crying, “Put me in, Coach! Put me in!”

Outside the classroom of Class 7 Accelerated, one of my classes – let’s get this show on the road!

Next week I will start teaching. I am slightly terrified, and I have moments when I feel terribly unprepared. But I am more than ready. My American might be showing, but I need to work. There is a whole commentary on societal priorities, identity, and work-ethic here that I will save for another day, but let us suffice to say that I have realized that without having some sort of active work to pour myself into, I definitely won’t feel satisfied.

So here goes! Wish me luck, and, “Put me in, Coach!”