Teaching English in the Middle of Nowhere
Shooting stars, s’mores, spiders and scary stories...
When I pulled up to the meeting point in Bolzano, where 16 small kids with big backpacks stood looking at me through 32 curious eyes, I thought, “What have I gotten myself into?” These were living, breathing beings that I would be responsible for returning to their parents in one piece. Yikes.
Luckily, two other teachers were also waiting for me in the sea of stares.
As I do with everything in life that daunts me, I tried to find a way to make the situation seem, well, less daunting. My inner calculator started computing: 16 kids divided by three teachers... All right. That’s doable, totally doable. We were back in business!
The kids said goodbye to their parents, and we took our places on the bus. Those who already knew each other sat together, and the ones who didn’t, sat alone – perhaps contemplating the same uncertainties I had experienced upon arrival.
We played a simple game to learn the kids’ names, and before we knew it, we were in Arco.
Balmy air greeted us as we exited the bus. We gathered in a circle for a few ice-breaker activities and then headed to the gelateria for some ice cream. With a little sugar kick, we began the trek from the village, past Arco Castle and through the woods to the remote campground where we would spend the next five days.
The hike allowed for some small talk to get to know the kids — to learn their names, where they were from, what language(s) they spoke at home and all the usual get-to-know-you A1 English chit-chat.
After a long trudge in the sweltering heat, we finally arrived at the camp.
As we closed the creaking gate behind us, it felt like we had entered a new world. The fragrance of jasmine hung in the air, evoking memories of hot summers from my childhood in California.
Camp Laghel was a paradise where everyday life ceased to exist. The kids were on their own, with no parents, no siblings, no familiarities, no stress, just room for them to be kids – to laugh, learn, discover and explore.
There was no phone reception and no need for it either.
The secluded area offered places to play, ponder and relax. An ancient chestnut tree towered above, gifting a shady refuge from the high sun. Hanging hammocks encouraged deep discussions, and at night, the firepit drew us in – to sing, dance, tell scary stories, make s’mores and laugh.
After having lunch, the kids were divided into tents. Their polyester home-away-from-home would be where, for the next five days, they would learn how to live together, conquer fear and homesickness and get to know one another – and themselves.
This new world belonged to them. With more freedom and, at the same time, more responsibility.
As you might imagine, the first night was filled with giggly energy and an unwillingness to fall asleep. But that was to be expected. For many, it was their first time away from home, sleeping in a tent surrounded by unfamiliar faces.
Silence fell around 1:30 a.m.
Eventually, the sun rose, and with it, the little campers.
It was time for breakfast. For each meal, we chose two kids to be responsible for setting the table and washing the dishes. When we asked who wanted to go first, eager hands shot up. We were off to a good start.
Once the tables were set, the groggy kids ate breakfast and slowly but surely perked up. After the tables were cleared, I taught an English lesson until lunch. The first lesson was about respecting each other and defining the rules together so as not to repeat the previous night’s shouting and laughing until the wee hours. Then we did an art project and had lunch. The afternoon was taken up with team activities, running around and playing with the hose to cool off.
Dinner came and went, followed by gathering around the campfire to play more games and sing songs. The kids warmed up with the fire while they warmed up to each other.
The rest of the week flew by. Like clockwork, we woke up, had breakfast, learned English, had lunch, played games, had dinner and sat around the campfire. And each day, the kids grew closer to each other. Words of encouragement could be heard during each activity. When one felt homesick, another would provide reassurance that everything would be alright. They even aided each other in communication. If one struggled to express themselves, another would step in to help. German, English and Italian whirled in the air in harmony.
On the last evening, we sat around the campfire and drew names from a bowl. The idea was that for each person we drew, we would go around the circle giving compliments to that person in English. It was such a special moment witnessing these kids, strangers just four days prior, now showering each other with heartfelt compliments.
“You are a super fantastic friend!”
“You make me happy when I am sad.”
“You are so kind!”
“You are so good at speaking English!”
For each child, there was something nice to be said, and my heart swelled with happiness.
The last day rolled around, and as the parents arrived one by one to pick up their children, the hugs and group hugs were never-ending. Learning English was the initial goal of the camp, but what they really learned was unity, and it was a pleasure to be a part of it.
Now back to my day job! ;-)
Tschüss, pfiati, ciao, bye-bye!
