We love our students dearly, we really do. but when ever we try to think of something that they do not do - it is to ask questions.
When I try to end a lesson by making them laugh I always ask them "min somnoua? hout min" which means "any questions? There aren't any"- they know I am making fun of them for not asking any questions. Sometimes when a questions is asked I get so excited I forget to answer it. But today a question was asked, and not once, but twice, and not just any question, but the most difficult one of all - "why".
It was during our young guides course, the one in which we prepare our young students to become guides after we leave. For the last few weeks we have been teaching them teaching methods. We do it in a way that we teach the same subject again and again - comparing village life with city life - by using different methods.
After today's lesson, which included a "court" session, where the judges had to choose between two debating teams, and a song (old McDonald had a farm...) - and there was also a plan for a short origami session which was postponed - we finally got the question. Why? "Why are we teaching the same thing in different ways?"
True, we have explained the reason before. True, it should have been understood from the way the lesson was created, but all that doesn't matter. This student had a real question she didn't understand, and she was brave enough to ask it. She really wanted to know.
The same thing happened later today. This student, Tepi, one of our young leaders, was at a 1 on 1 lesson with me, when I decided to teach her soduko. For a full hour she was fascinated, and her smile when I got her a paper to take home with more games was the largest I have seen. When the lesson was over, and I asked her if she enjoyed it se looked at me and said "very much, but why you teach me this today?"
she was interested not only by what I was teaching her, but also by what it says about her. When I told her it's a good game for thinking exercises, she said "so you think I am clever!" with a winning smile. Yes I do think she is clever. Can you blame me?
When I try to end a lesson by making them laugh I always ask them "min somnoua? hout min" which means "any questions? There aren't any"- they know I am making fun of them for not asking any questions. Sometimes when a questions is asked I get so excited I forget to answer it. But today a question was asked, and not once, but twice, and not just any question, but the most difficult one of all - "why".
It was during our young guides course, the one in which we prepare our young students to become guides after we leave. For the last few weeks we have been teaching them teaching methods. We do it in a way that we teach the same subject again and again - comparing village life with city life - by using different methods.
After today's lesson, which included a "court" session, where the judges had to choose between two debating teams, and a song (old McDonald had a farm...) - and there was also a plan for a short origami session which was postponed - we finally got the question. Why? "Why are we teaching the same thing in different ways?"
True, we have explained the reason before. True, it should have been understood from the way the lesson was created, but all that doesn't matter. This student had a real question she didn't understand, and she was brave enough to ask it. She really wanted to know.
The same thing happened later today. This student, Tepi, one of our young leaders, was at a 1 on 1 lesson with me, when I decided to teach her soduko. For a full hour she was fascinated, and her smile when I got her a paper to take home with more games was the largest I have seen. When the lesson was over, and I asked her if she enjoyed it se looked at me and said "very much, but why you teach me this today?"she was interested not only by what I was teaching her, but also by what it says about her. When I told her it's a good game for thinking exercises, she said "so you think I am clever!" with a winning smile. Yes I do think she is clever. Can you blame me?
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