Deliberate Distraction.

Spiders and flies is a game we’ve taught to the kids in PE. It’s not stayed there, emerging during mornings and breaks as group entertainment. It’s like tag, but the spider (It) has to stay on a line rather than run around, and flies run from one end of a space to the other, across the spider’s line. It’s great fun to watch.

We’re in the school bus (Recently acquired, and still a vague novelty to the kids.) dropping off the second to last child, and instead of leaving straight away we stay. The child’s mother bakes, a lot, and it’s amazing. All the teachers get bread and pastries from her and Joel’s (The schools ‘director’. Even he’s not sure of his own title. He was part of the founding group though, and is the westerner-in-charge. Cru Ooy is the thai-in-charge. We call her ‘boss’) taking the opportunity to order some. It’s probably also a subtle check-up; she’s recovering from cancer, and has been kind of adopted by the school family. They’re very good at looking after their own.

So, I hop out with the last two kids. Well, fall out. They’re laughing quite a lot, and getting stuck in the seats and dropping bags and I’m finding it too amusing to really be much use. I joke with the second child that we’re going to leave her here. “You’re going to live here now, ok? Really? You will sleep here? Ok!”

“Teacher!”

“Yes?”

“Spider and flies!”

I’m not sure how well it’s going to work with three people, but we can give it a go. Turns out, three is plenty. We play a few rounds before I become the spider. I’m not brilliant at it.

“Teacher! Motorcy!”

“Where?”

They both run past me laughing. I have been defeated by the distraction techniques of a 4^th grader. Never mind that there was an actual motorbike; it’s nowhere near us, and she knew it.

“That’s cheating,” I moan, finding it secretly hilarious, “that’s the same as saying ‘Look teacher, elephant! Look teacher, crocodile!’” That cracks them up again, and they refine their methods; wide eyes and grand pointing, betrayed by their twitching lips. “Crocodile!” they scream “Elephant!” Joel and mother start laughing by the door. We use rock-paper-scissors after that, to decide who becomes the next spider. Somehow I’m not very good at that either.

This whole game would be easier if they’d stop running through the bush. Which sits to the side of the road is all its gargantuan glory. Really, you could hide a cow in there. It would be kind of funny if we ended up hiding a child instead.

“Stop going through the bush! That’s cheating too!”

Man, no-one told me teaching would involve this much running.

Emma.

Ps: Fun fact. I didn’t misspell motorcy. Thais really call it that.