Diplomatic Immunity

I don't have it--finally came down with a little mini-cold and lost my voice after a day of screaming and cheering for six hours at my first "English camp" on Saturday. Fourteen other ETAs (English Teaching Assistants) and I went to a school in KL to lead 100 kids in a day of activities intended to make learning English fun. As much as I sincerely hate cheesy phrases like "make learning English fun," I also sincerely had a great time at English camp. Our theme was superheroes, and the kids were extremely enthusiastic and had really creative ideas. My group came up with a superhero named "Sleeping Man." My personal favorite superhero creation was "Spicy Marvin Alice the Mind Reader." As his group's skit revealed, Marvin acquired his mind-reading abilities by eating spicy food, and he also has the power to change genders at will. This came in handy when he heard a scream of distress from the ladies' bathroom and was able to change into a woman to help. Yes. 100% created by Malaysian kids.

All the ETAs worked really well together, and I was blown away by my fellow ETAs' mad skills. (Seriously, people who've worked as camp counselors know the best games.) It was a good confidence-booster for me, in that it made me realize that I can be goofier and a better performer and improviser than I thought. My most inspirational moment was seeing a shy girl step up to narrate our skit and knock everyone's socks off.

The kids were shockingly willing to play silly games for 15- to 17-year-olds. People were talking about how "immature" they seem compared to American teens, but I'm not sure that's the best way to describe it. It made me realize how much my definition of being "mature" at that age is really just about being jaded and rebellious. These kids are probably going to get married and start jobs sooner than their American counterparts, so in some ways aren't they MORE mature? And maybe being willing to go along enthusiastically with English camp is a sign of maturity, since it shows an understanding that you only get something out of activities like that if you commit to them. In conclusion, I don't actually know what maturity means, especially if I'm trying to come up with a definition that works across cultures.

Even if I lack diplomatic immunity, I did get to attend a soiree at the ambassador's house.

Best perk of ambassadorship = stationery.

The most interesting parts of it were the performances. There was a huge group of Malaysian high school students there who were about to leave for a semester in small town America, and they performed a multi-part dance with different sections that were supposed to represent all the major ethnic groups in Malaysia. It was great, but it was a little jarring to hear the announcer say, "And now representing the Indian Malaysian community..." as a multi-ethnic group of students came out to do an Indian-inspired dance. It just struck me as a very different way of handling diversity than we would in the U.S. (Imagine the U.S. equivalent.) The other ETAs also put on some great performances. May I just say that I never expected to be singing along to a live rendition of "Wonderwall" in the home of the U.S. Ambassador to Malaysia.

On Sunday I went on a rainforest hike at the Forest Research Institute of Malaysia (FRIM), which was amazing. Also amazingly vertical at points. Wasn't sure I would make it, but I'm still alive. We got to walk along a rope bridge at canopy level with a view of the rainforest below and the city in the distance. Breathtaking. The hike ended with a waterfall. What more can you ask for?

7-foot long monster fish called an aparaima just chilling in the pond by the FRIM ticket office. A little decorative pond where you'd expect koi. Not here.

Not my hand. Artsy.

Jurassic Park. 

Safety?

What the ropes look like. 

The coiled cord of God's landline. 

KL from the canopy. 

In terms of my mental climate, I've been thinking a little bit more about what it means to be here. The U.S. government wants me to be a cultural ambassador--i.e., an agent of soft power. The Malaysian government wants me to improve the level of English here. Both those goals are fine with me, but do I necessarily agree with the reasons behind them and the specific ways they're carried out? Do I have to if I'm on the payroll? Is it unethical if I have personal goals that are different?

One thing that happens a lot here is that people tell us how important we are and how amazing we must be to have been selected, yada yada. And that becomes a self-reinforcing thing within the group: "Well,  the other people here are awesome, which means I'm part of a selective group, which makes me awesome." (Or I guess that cycle could go in reverse, starting from the premise, "I'm awesome.")  I'm going to go out on a limb and say that any time I've gotten similar messages in the past, there has been an underlying element of social control. At Cornell, being told how awesome we were just for being admitted was a way to perpetuate the idea that it makes sense to pay exorbitant amounts for a prestigious school. At Telluride, being told how selective the institution was was a way to make us more likely to go along with the more cult-like and uncomfortable aspects of that curious "educational experiment." On a more basic level, these messages make you want to act in a way that's deemed respectable and worthy of whatever big name you're associated with. And it all feels so nice that I haven't questioned it enough in the past. That's all for now, but I'll keep thinking about this. Probably not blogging about it anymore, though, since Big Brother is watching.

Reading: The Art of Travel by Alain de Botton.