Before we began our trip in January, Tania & I had discussed the desire to find some good volunteer projects along the way. We had done some research online, and although we found many opportunities, they didn’t really fit our schedule or our expectations about volunteer work. The majority of them seemed to be too organized and too bureaucratic, requiring long-term time commitments and unreasonably high administrative fees. We got the impression that some of these organizations might be sponsoring themselves by selling the volunteer experience as a package tour (“a safe, structured and rewarding experience in fighting poverty for only $4,999”). Unfortunately, many travelers who, like ourselves, would like the opportunity to volunteer on a short-term basis as they travel are discouraged by the time requirements and the high costs of participation.

In the end, we decided to just try our luck as independent volunteers, out-sourcing our English language skills in upcountry Laos. We found that our lack of references, teaching experience or affiliation with any volunteer-based organization did not matter in the least to the education professionals of Xieng Khouang. While having breakfast on our second day in town, a man approached us to find out if we were interested in a local tour. We said that we were not, explaining that we were actually about to go to one of the local schools in search of some work as volunteer English teachers. Hearing this, he revealed that his primary job was as District Education Supervisor, tour guide was only his “second job”, as listed on his homemade business card (on a government salary of $20/month, guiding, which can bring in $10/day is a valuable supplemental income). He told us to go to Phonsavan High School at 1:30 and that he would make a few calls to other local schools. By the end of the day we had our next two weeks mapped out: three to four hours each morning at the S.O.S. Hermann Gmeiner Secondary School - SOS Children's Villages, two hours in the afternoon with the teachers in training at the high school, an hour and a half in the evening with the orphans at the S.O.S. Children’s Village as well as a few promises to help out occasionally with private night classes. This suddenly full schedule was a bit overwhelming for two people that had been on vacation for four months.

During our short stay in Xieng Khouang, many of the teachers and directors expressed the need for/lack of “foreigners” in the English departments. It was often mentioned to us that there had been one “expert” in Xieng Khouang the previous year (an English women who taught at the teacher’s college), but that she had gone back to Vientiane after six months. They were concerned that a long-term replacement for the “expert” would not be arriving any time soon. Because of the motivation to learn English and the lack of access to fluent English speakers, we were very well received around the schools in which we volunteered: there were many requests by teachers for us to come and help with their night classes (private classes to supplement their government income), students in the high school would stop us in the halls to practice conversation, the teachers in training would request that we come and observe their class and give feedback, even the director of the secondary school asked us for help with the English homework from his night class.

Many of the younger students, however, particularly the girls, were initially mortified by our presence (especially mine, Tania wasn’t quite the threatening presence I am) and their reaction to us gave new meaning to the term “painfully shy.” When we would walk through the halls, the girls would see us coming and start giggling and warn each other. They would do their best to get away, but if they were stuck in a crowd and could not achieve a safe distance they would bunch together and duck away from us as we passed, resolutely refusing to make eye contact. For the first few days, while teaching we would occasionally spot students outside peaking in to the classroom through the windows. When we shot them a glance, they would drop out of view, give a squeal of fear and excitement and run off.

We soon learned that their reaction represented both shyness toward foreigners (due to lack of exposure) and proper respect to elders. When passing or being passed by a teacher or any respected elder, it’s expected of young Laos to lower themselves, in order to be beneath the head of the elder. So, despite the fact that the students (not to mention the teachers) were much shorter than me to begin with, they would still duck and bend at the waist every time they we passed. After a few days, the younger students became a little more accustomed to our presence and at least one brave young boy would yell “Hello!” out the window of each classroom as we walked down the halls.

Given the fact that we had no experience teaching English and told everyone as much, we had imagined that we would assist the teachers with pronunciation and activities, but never expecting to be viewed as the new “experts”. More than once, though, we walked into a classroom and the teacher handed us the book, saying, “You teach.” It was a little disconcerting to have 42 pairs of eyes on us as we made up lesson plans on the fly. Sometimes our attempts at explaining certain concepts were met with puzzlement.

On our first day helping the teachers in training, we spent a few minutes practicing pronunciation and then asked what else we could help them with. They immediately agreed that they would like our help with lesson planning. Having never planned a lesson, it seemed inappropriate for us to be teaching lesson planning to a group of students who were about to finish their training and become teachers. We soon realized that in this case the ability to speak English fluently, combined with sixteen years of sitting through relatively well-planned lessons, represented sufficient qualification.

We asked the director of the secondary school about courses taught in the school. The curriculum sounded similar to an American secondary school, with subjects including Math, Social Studies, Language (Lao & English), Lao History and Technology.

‘Technology?’ we thought, ‘That’s great that they’re learning technology - computers, electronics, internet, etc.’ We asked to take a look at the book. Lesson one covered essentials like “Building a pail” and further reading (or looking at the step-by-step illustrations) revealed lessons on basket weaving, rice planting, wooden house construction, and chicken coop design – all very practical, but not in the forward looking sense. School in Laos is only compulsory from ages 6 to 11, and after that many children leave school and begin to work – most of them farming. For those lucky enough to stay in school, there is not yet a well-developed higher education system. We were told that most teachers have the equivalent of a fifth grade education. While remaining a Communist country, Laos has recently opened up to trade, tourism, and foreign direct investment, but the realities of global trade, travel, the internet, etc. remain fairly remote to the average person here. Even in Xieng Khouang, though, the evidence of change is visible. There are more and more NGOs and development projects funded by foreign banks each year and with them come jobs and opportunities for people with the proper skills. It was apparent to us that students, teachers and directors alike were aware of the importance of learning English and of the opportunities it would provide them in the future.