I am a teacher.

I speak the title of this blog entry with a certain aplomb that I never expected to have during this experience. Sure, I signed up to be an English teacher but in actuality I have no formal training in teaching, in fact I never had a serious desire to become a teacher professionally beyond this, yet here I am in Indonesia and I...am a teacher...

Every morning (for the past four weeks that is) I wake up at 5:30 a.m. I hit the snooze button at least three times, getting me up on average at about 6 a.m. every morning. I mosey out of bed still asleep and walk to my ant infested bathroom. I clear the ants away from the listerine bottle on the sink and look in the mirror. "Why me?!" I ask as I clear the sleep from my eye, still drowsy and wanting nothing more than to go back to bed. I look at the bathtub and consider heavily whether I have the energy to lift my legs over its side to take a shower (breathe easy- the decision is usually yes).  After I have washed up and am instantly (only slightly) more energized, I proceed to get dressed. Once I'm dressed (as of the past week as i've just received it) in my new mustard yellow or seaweed green teacher's uniform, I gather my things, head out the door and proceed down the steps of my apartment. Almost ritually, once I've reached the second level of steps before the bottom I turn right back around, run up the steps, unlock my door and turn off the air conditioner in my apartment (because if I don't my landlord will).  Once I've checked my pockets front and back as to not have to heave myself back up the stairs again, I leave for the last time out the door. I'm usually met downstairs with warm salutations from the maternity ward's staff countered by the bemused stares of pregnant women and their husbands (i live in a maternity ward...not joking) alike as I walk out of the front door and head down the dusty road to the main thoroughfare.

Once at the street, I am met with more gawking from the people in town, who I'm sure have never seen a person quite like me. Usually, I take the stares in stride (I mean I am a foreigner) but some mornings (only one or two thus far) I take the incessant staring personally and find myself with a not so pleasant look on my face. Its not the staring that bothers me, it is the constant reminder that I am in fact an outsider, that I am alone an ocean and half away from home. By the time I am on the angkot on my way to school, the frustrations subside...until I arrive at my destination and the angkot driver tries to overcharge me because its clear that I am not from around here. Fortunately, I know enough Indonesian to elude his scheme and give him the 2,000 rupiah that I owe.

Rattled from the unpleasant encounter I once again find myself walking on a dusty path this time 200 yards away from school. As I'm walking, many thoughts wander through my mind: what lessons I'll teach for the day, how dirty my shoes are getting from the dusty road, how hot the beaming sun is, do I have any extracurriculars after school today? All of these thoughts help me to become mentally prepared to start my day at SMK Muhammadiyah Kudus. However, usually before I am really fully prepared I approach the front gate of my school, take a deep breathe and head in. At this point a change in current is felt. I hear the excitement in the voices of students as they yell, "Hey Mister!", (for many of them this is the extent of their English) and I respond, "Good Morning, How are you?", and the transition begins. The hard exterior formed by the lingering frustrations of the morning start to chip away, one student at a time. The excitement of the students instantly change my disposition and any worries that I had are left at the gate. I am happy again :).

Fast forward to the classroom. I love to teach! I have so much fun. Most of the time I am making a fool of myself, trying to get my point across by frantically gesturing or flailing my limbs, acting out a wide range of emotions or using my limited Indonesian vocabulary (the last is usually met with hysterical laughter). Miraculously the students understand and whether it is a lesson about introducing oneself, describing physical appearance, or expressing emotions I find some way to make it fun for both the students and myself. The best feeling in the classroom is witnessing the confidence level of students rise from the beginning of the class to the end. Routinely at the beginning of class, I have to beg for just the slightest whisper of an answer from students but invariably by the end of each class, the students are yelling confidently in English. Even more of a rush is felt when I can see that the students are learning, from something that I have taught them no less!

It is at the end of every class, after the students have enthusiastically yelled, "Bye Mr. Kalada!", and after I am exhausted from my latest performance in the classroom that I find myself in a daze of wonderment...I think to myself and smile...I am a teacher.

Best,
Kalada