Although I've heard of other PCVs walking out on their English classes out of frustration, I had not had the pleasure. If a class is being particularly intractable on a certain day, I generally will sit at my desk (table) and wait it out, sometimes with a book. I like reading, they like not-learning; everyone wins. They'll be tested on the material regardless. However, I said "had not," above, implying that I did so recently, though this isn't entirely true. Today, I walked out on the weekly session in masochism known as English Club.
Planning on starting around 2PM, I walked over to the high school a few minutes early. Instead of the barren, lifeless campus I generally find at this time (schools here don't hold classes on Wednesday afternoons as a rule), I saw hundreds of jabbering students, supposed to be cleaning the school grounds. It's something they do from time to time. Give enough children some brooms and pails, and a few hours later the site will look marginally less covered in dirt.
Usually, English Club is held for those "in the know." If the general population is aware that its going on, you'll find yourself with a majority of kids who have nothing better to do than heckle the white guy and no intention of practicing their English. As soon as I saw hundreds of students (or rather, as soon as they saw me walk up to the school) I knew what was going to happen. They needed a way out of sweeping, and what could be a more legitimate excuse than extracurricular learning? I should have turned around, and almost did, but thought of a plan. Against my better judgement, I ordered two of my good students to round up the usual suspects and tell no one else.
Naturally, this failed miserably and the room quickly filled up with riffraff and slackers, who found an excuse and a seat all in one bargain. I started (again, against my better judgement) with an activity that I've done before with English Club: deciphering English proverbs. Malagasy culture, itself, has hundreds of their own "ohabolana" so one would think the concept would translate pretty easily. In fact, I began by going over some Malagasy proverbs and talking about them. Then, choosing some common English ones, I split them into groups of 5 and told them to figure out the meaning of the literal phrase, and then what the "bigger picture" was. (Despite this being a place where, as I told them, "we USE English, not where I TEACH English," I had to explain 95% in Malagasy).
Of course, it was a disaster. These kids had no interest in English, other cultures, proverbs, or not-harrassing me and they put up the biggest wall between themselves and "getting smarter" they could possibly construct with the available materials. (These materials include screaming "I DON'T UNDERSTAND," "NOT CLEAR," and a mixture of contorted faces with some totally blank stares.) As such, "Don't count your chickens before they hatch," and "Cross your bridges when you come to them," even if they understood the words themselves, were invariably about chickens and bridges. Nothing about decision making, future-planning, or life lessons--just chickens and bridges.
Regardless, I've worked on my temper to the point where I can still smile and work with the groups and elicit a more profound interpretation (OK, I essentially just told them. I'm not that even-headed yet and they aren't that smart yet). I walked out because, less-than-interestingly, they simply would not stop talking. Not when I was helping them, not when they were supposed to be working, not when a student representative from each group explained the meaning of the proverb to other groups (in Malagasy, sadly). I went there on my own free will, under no obligation, and despite the fact that I had been feeling sick all day long, and they chose to be willfully ignorant and rude. I warned them more than a few times of these factors, and added that I had plenty of other things to being doing. They chose to ignore this also, and so I did.
