Elaine erupts
with concern during our English lesson and thoroughly distracts the whole
class. I’m confused until Marie comes over and points to a small scab on my
leg. ‘Oh’ I go, rubbing at it a bit ‘I just shaved this morning.’
Four sets of
uncomprehending stares are levelled at me.
I act out
shaving, pretending I’m holding a razor and running it over my leg. They don’t
get it. Thai women, I remember, don’t often shave. So I have them feel
the hair on my arm and then the lack on my leg.
‘I have hair,’ I
say ‘like here, then take off!’ A gesture of scissors seems to help.
‘Oh!’ They go,
smiling and nodding at me.
‘And cut, a
little bit.’ They understand now, even if they do think I’m a little weird.
‘No ouch?’
‘No, it doesn’t
hurt’
No longer
worried, they settle down to learning all about q and y.
***
It’s
mid-afternoon, and we’re all sat on the back tables crowded round my laptop,
watching as I try my best to explain PowerPoint. Gibberish filled text boxes
and ClipArt seem to hold their rapt attention.
They move things,
change their size and shape. Eric takes his turn, and an unfortunate,
extremely squat police officer does unfeasible acrobatics across the screen.
The girls wander over to me, content to huddle round me and poke at my hair.
It’s in a French plait today, and they’ve told me before how much they like it.
It’s warm, and
I’m sleepy, so I rest my head on the table and watch Eric's glee from a
sideways perspective, the girls smoothing their hands over my hair.
Occasionally they pull a bit, and murmur quietly behind me. I ask what they’re
doing: Elaine shows me some dust she’s pulled out of my plait. Ah, I think, they’re checking for nits.
I let them
continue. Everyone seems quite content, and besides the odd ‘See please’ as the
girls get me to turn my head and Eric's giggles it’s all rather quiet.
It’s a good
lesson.
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