More cultural notes, and first week of teaching

Well, my classes for the first week are finished. Muhabbat gave me one sixth-grade class to teach solo (this past Monday), and one tenth-grade class to team-teach (on Wednesday). Actually, when I was in Есік last (when I made my last blog post, that is), I hadn't gone for the Internet; I had been accumulating teaching materials for my Monday class: more paper, some scissors, a grade-book and a cheap (50╤) plastic ball for communicative games.

At first, I felt that my Monday class was a perfect demonstration of Murphy's Law – we ended up having to switch classrooms, I ended up having about twice as many students as I thought I would and all but four of them came in late. My visual aids were far too small and I ran out of tape and Asem had to lend me hers. In addition, whatever I'd learned in my TEFL training at BAE seemed to have leaked out my ears and I got a bad case of stage fright such that my voice ended up being about twenty decibels too quiet and far too fast – and I ran out of time during the second class activity (of five planned!). However, by the end (miracle of miracles), the students were fairly comfortably using the new vocabulary – which went to show that the students had a good attitude about the class and were capable of learning from even the greenest, most disorganised teacher they could possibly have for it. I'm also grateful that I have such supportive fellow-Trainees and staff at my back: Nagima, Asem and the Trainees who observed my lesson had some good criticisms for me (that I need to work on my voice and be more aware of time), and also were keen enough and sensible enough to remind me that the lesson hadn't been a complete disaster, and that the students had been learning – since my personality is unhealthily perfectionistic almost to the point of masochism, I often tend to beat myself over the head with my own failings while ignoring what I do well. This is a trait I suspect I come by honestly, but it's also one I'll have to deal with if I want to be an effective Volunteer (let alone a happy person!).

Wednesday's lesson went a lot better, though. I was sharing with Muhabbat, and I was doing grammar (future continuous tense). It was a small class: five very well-behaved tenth-graders (four girls and one boy). I had my eye on the clock, so we didn't run over as badly – though I still ended up having to assign the 'use' portion of the class as homework, we got through the guided activities to the point where it was clear the students would have little trouble asking and answering questions in the future continuous tense. I tried to explain the use of future continuous tense visually (remembering the timeline charts from BAE), and I was glad to see that the students were picking up on the use of it by the end (though Asem had to do some explanation in Qazaq). Also, I still need to work on my Scotch tape-tearing alacrity skills. Muhabbat seemed impressed by the lesson's execution, which was a significant boost to my self-esteem as a teacher, I have to say. I just hope my next lesson goes as well, if not better.

A few more cultural notes about classroom etiquette: when a teacher enters a room or even appears in the doorway, all the students are expected to stand and greet the teacher. This appears to be a seniority rule: as junior teachers, we are expected to do the same for our local counterparts and for the local Peace Corps staff. Also, even when local teachers say something that is wrong, we are not to correct them in front of the class – only after class when all the students have left. Teachers enjoy a social and institutional position of high respect in Qazaqstani culture (both Qazaq and Russian), and they are expected to dress their best: neatly-pressed button-down shirts, nice slacks, a belt and dress shoes at the very least, and preferably a jacket and tie.

Please allow me to indulge my social-conservative streak for a moment: to be honest, in some ways this is actually quite a refreshing and admirable change of pace from the United States, where teachers are not respected in the culture, by either their students or by the students' parents and where there exists an atmosphere of confrontation and resentment between the teaching staff and the taxpayers who are supposed to be supporting the school system. (Indeed, it often seems that the entirety of American society has become poisoned by this culture of incivility – witness the recent insult by an elected official, unprecedented in our history, to the President of the United States during his address to Congress.) As a result, teachers feel the need to defensively position themselves within the same marginalised social space as wage labourers, and form teachers' unions (which are often at odds with parent organisations). It needs to be stressed that student-centred communicative methodologies cannot work to effect in such a toxic social atmosphere in which communication has already been compromised, in which civility, authority and social discipline no longer play decisive roles and in which parents and teachers feel the need to get one-up on each other (and in which the real losers are the students). Though a system in which everyone knows his or her place obviously has its problems (hence, why we're here), on a number of levels it avoids many of the problems that plague our over-individualistic system in the United States (and, in some respects, actually makes our jobs as Volunteers – being at once effective teachers and integrated members of the community – significantly easier).

On the other hand, however, the system itself seems to be more resistant to the very methodologies for which it provides the appropriate space: teacher-centric methodologies still seem to be the norm here, rather than the student-centric methodology we are being taught. It will be our job to attempt to introduce these new methodologies (where they are effective and rational) while at the same time adapting to and respecting Qazaqstan's cultural norms – it is a challenge to which I'm looking forward.

In fact, I wanted to discuss this with my Peace Corps staff, but at present I lack the resources. I've already mentioned Qazaqstan's very visible culture of hospitality and some of the values motivating that culture, and I was wondering whether I might be able to make use of Henri Nouwen's work here to (somewhat subversively) integrate some of those values into the way teaching is done. One way a communicative approach to teaching might be made more palatable to Qazaqstani sensibilities might be to draw an overt parallel between the teacher and the head of a Qazaqstani household, and between the student and the guest of a Qazaqstani house. Just the way the attention and effort of the host family seems to be very deeply and very intensely bent on satisfying the needs of the guest within the household (making sure they are comfortable and making sure they have eaten enough and drunk enough tea), perhaps it might be useful to suggest that the teacher's efforts and attention should be to an analogous degree bent on satisfying the intellectual and spiritual needs of his students within his 'household' (that is to say, within his subject). Of course, I am aware that my understanding of Qazaqstani culture is still extremely limited (I've been here less than a month, after all) – so I want to run this idea by Nagima and Asem to see what they think of it.