Tous les garçons et les filles — Vientiane, Laos | 2003-2016
“In Praise of Lao Students ”
“So, it’s a bit like the ‘the blood in the gutter’ we learnt about in the graphic novels course?” a student in my Creative Writing class asks. Wow! This is not bad, not only is she accurately making a connection between concepts she’s learnt in different courses, she also matter-of-factly and confidently uses a phrase like the blood in the gutter.
“Yes, you’re spot on!” I can hardly conceal my excitement. I first taught this particular student six or seven years ago, when she was just a shy teenager, in a general elementary English class. She’s come a long way since then. Whereas she used to quietly mumble broken English phrases and then giggle uncontrollably, she now speaks with confidence, thinks things through and isn’t afraid to challenge the things I say. And she’s not the only one.
When I taught my first classes in Laos, back in January 2003 [Read: Don’t you want me?], the silence often was deafening. Students didn’t seem to be very curious about anything and even the best-educated ones had very limited general knowledge about the world. These days, however, my students are engrossed. There’s lively debate, compelling questions are being asked and they’ve become much, much more aware of the world surrounding them. I’d like to think that I played my part in this remarkable transformation but, as you can imagine, my role has only been that of a Socratic gadfly buzzing around in the background of their lives.
I do think I can claim some (modest) responsibility for it though. For the past 13 years I’ve been a teacher in Laos. About eight years ago, after a rocky start, working at six different schools in Vientiane, one in Pakse and a lost year in Thailand [Read: Together in Electric Dreams], I settled as a teacher at Vientiane College, 8½ years as a teacher at the same college. It might not be impressive to everyone, but for me it’s the longest time I’ve ever worked at one place and it’s work I mostly enjoy.
All those years I’ve taught the way I think it should be done. I don’t chalk-and-talk! Instead, I tell stories, ask provocative questions and force people to think. I force them to think by playing the Devil’s advocate. Whatever ideas students come up with, I’ll take the opposite position and ask thought-provoking questions to guide them through the thinking process. Sometimes this approach confuses them, causing them to cry out, “But last week you said…” More often than not though, they take on the challenge. I think it’s the main reason why most of them happily drop the Asian politeness façade in my class and challenge me back. The truth is that, like my soldiers back in Holland [Read: Let’s Get Loud], they like to be challenged!
Hundreds of students have passed through my classroom the past decade and some of them have been taking my classes for years. Although I hope I’ve had some impact on their general knowledge, or at least aroused some curiosity, I’m afraid that my rather insignificant claim to fame will probably be that there are now dozens of Laotians — kids, teenagers, businessmen and even senior government officials — who can tell you without hesitation that Ouagadougou is the capital city of Burkina Faso. Sure it’s not the kind of knowledge that is of any direct use to them or will help develop the country, but the usefulness of useless information lies in the fact that it sparks curiosity and without curiosity there is no learning.
The real reason for the astonishing leap forward of the average Lao student is, of course, the Internet. Whereas access to information used to be extremely limited, nowadays, to much chagrin of the local government, everybody can find out everything about anything online. At the college we still pretend Laos is a poor developing country, but the reality is that most of our students have smartphones (the expensive iPhones being remarkably popular) with a 3G Internet connection.
Now that most people have Internet access, it’s interesting to see how they have been differently affected by it. With my students, I’ve noticed that those born after 1992, i.e. after the Internet changed the world forever, tend to be the creative thinkers, have more general knowledge and are open to debate. The ones born before that paradigm shift, in contrast, have been thoroughly ruined by the prohibitive culture they grew up in. They talk in platitudes, have no original ideas to speak of and strongly believe that any kind of discussion or debate is by definition inappropriate. It’s not their fault and there are many exceptions, but for Laos’ development it would probably be best to skip a couple of generations when the time comes for a new line-up of its leaders.
It doesn’t seize to amaze me how, after a long day at work, school or university, our students come to our after-school college with so much energy, dedication and enthusiasm. Compared to Western students, I often wonder who the ‘developing’ ones are. I’m convinced that the Lao students in my classes, who are mostly in their early to mid-twenties, could easily make this country’s development leap forward if they wouldn’t be suffering from the ‘development aid’ curse. In fact, I would go as far as to say that all the ‘development aid’ does is keep an ignorant, aid-addicted, generation in power while the promising well-educated ones wither away.
I hope they manage to stay motivated and keep their enthusiasm as they wait their turn. In the process, I hope they’ll keep coming to my classes. I would never like to be a teacher back in the Netherlands, nor did I enjoy teaching in Thailand. No, it’s the spirit and dedication of all those Lao students who sat in my classrooms the past 13 years that makes being a teacher over here as great as it is. Thanks!
Amanda Palmer – Tous les garçons et les filles Live in Bordeaux [Video] Bordeaux, France: YouTube. (2010)
This autobiographical sketch comes from my bundle In the Moment: A Disjointed Audiobiography which is available at Amazon.com. (USD 9.50 for a paperback or USD 4.50 for the Kindle version)
