Like all mornings, Monday began at 4:15 with the call to prayer. I kind of lied there for another 45 minutes before getting up for a cold bucket shower, Javanese coffee, and breakfast (egg, tempe, and veggie soup over rice). Then, the other three volunteers in my village came over, and together, we caught one of the public minibuses that takes us past our practicum school.
Our practicum school is a madrasah, one of the Islamic high schools run by the Ministry Religious Affairs. The school itself looks very different from anything in America. It’s three stories tall and shaped like a square surrounding a big courtyard. The walls are brightly painted, six fish ponds are everywhere, and there are dormitories for about 100 boarders.
The school headmaster made the four of us—George, Allyson, MaryEllen, and I—awkwardly shake hands with as many of the arriving students as he could. Then at 6:45, the kids and staff had the weekly flag ceremony. Students formed ranks, did some marching, sang the national anthem, and recited some words in Arabic .Afterwards, I got to spend a few hours interviewing the English teaching staff, touring the school, and sitting in on a few classes. I really hope the kids cool down a bit when I teach my first lesson next week. They seemed really excited to have Americans around, and teachers were having trouble keeping them calm. Overall, though, I got the impression they were pretty motivated kids.
(1) Students at the madrasah
(2) The street outside Ibu's home.
Just wondering--how good is their English already? And what are the ages for high school there?
ReplyDeleteAs far as settling down, don't count on it ;)