Reason for teaching # 471

At 6:30pm this Friday afternoon after an epic week of teaching and three and a half hours of drama rehearsals with three separate classes of Bhutanese teenagers, I'm walking home through the village accompanied by some of my year seven students - who INSIST on carrying my bags for me even though I protest - when suddenly they all start singing, belting out all the songs I've taught them in our English classes with the kind of selfless abandon that I remember only from my days as a ten year old with my ear plastered to Top 40 hits breaking domestic decibel limits with my atonal singing. 

They sing for no other reason than because it's fun, they're happy and it feels good and the moment is so spontaneous, so unselfconscious and so full of joy that despite its Hallmark flavour I can't help but just love it and love them: they're such a motley, grammatically wayward bunch but they're so cheeky and lively, so thoughtful and genuinely respectful that every day is a pleasure to teach and I'm consistently grateful to have teenage students who appreciate my efforts, are keen to help in any way possible and even take the time to ask me how I am if I'm unwell. Thanks Bhutan! All the bucket showers, stomach pains and chewed up sneakers are totally worth it.