Writing Daughter: If You're Happy and You Know It

I took the day off this past Wednesday to spend some time with Srey Leak, my Cambodian BFF and host sister. She told me that that night we were going to go visit the school where her sister-in-law taught.

Whether it was an intentional omission or simply one of those "lost in translation" moments, I may never know. But rather than sitting in a corner like the out-of-place foreigner that I was, I was brought to the front of class and asked to teach.

Uhhhh, sure. Why not?

Students usually attend public Khmer school in the morning and English school in the afternoon or night. This was an English school, and I "taught" one class of eighth graders, who ranged in age from 13-20. As I introduced myself, I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all: there I was, in the middle of a rural village whose name I probably couldn't pronounce, in Cambodia, sweating profusely, staring at a bunch of teenagers who maybe understood a quarter of what I was saying. It was one of those moments that you look around and shake your head and think "What is this life?!"

The students wanted to hear me sing, so I belted out my very best "If You're Happy and You Know It," complete with hand-clapping, foot-stomping, and twirling. I distinctly remembered, as I started to sing, how my mother used to tell me I had a singing voice like her father. I never met my grandpa--he passed away long before I was in the picture--so I thought my mom meant I sang like an angel, because that's what my grandpa was! False. She literally meant I sang like her dad who, from the sound of things, might have been a wee-bit tone deaf, but nonetheless enthusiastic. Nevermind that, though! The students clapped and grinned as I curtsied and beamed back at them and I hoped that my mom was watching from heaven and laughing hysterically.

After I introduced myself to the students and explained why I was in Cambodia, I opened up the discussion for some Q&A. Questions ranged from "How many people are in your family?" to "Do you have a boyfriend?" to "How do you pronounce choir?" (I'll admit, this one stumped me a bit. Why do we pronounce the "ch" in church, but not in choir? The English language is kind of weird.)

Eventually someone rang the bell outside and the students stood up, pushing back their benches, and gathering their things. Class was done for today--and I, the unsuspecting foreigner turned English teacher, climbed into the back of the car, cheeks sore from smiling so much--tired and sweaty--but utterly content.