Too many Dan, Too many many Dan

Part 2

After our morning brief, we were allotted time to relax, have lunch and splash in the pool. On my way back from the bunk house to collect my towel however, a car pulled into reception and a boy ducked out of the backseat. Although the hood of the car blocked his face, I watched him hoist a rucksack over his shoulder and immediately, I scuttled back to the pool. ‘Dan’s here!’ I said. ‘I think it’s Dan!’

And sure enough, Leah and Ferg, met this stranger at reception, clapped him on the back and took him under their wing, leading him towards the patio table. Our uproar of excitement was quickly distilled when some smart person suggested we not smother the boy as soon as he arrived. And so we waited, impatiently craning our necks to get a look in at the fresh meat.

‘I feel like he reminds me of someone,’ said Hanna.

‘Yeah, he looks like somebody famous, I just can’t put my mind on it,’ said another.

Poor Dan had been delayed yet another hour at the airport when another ‘Dan’ from a Think Pacific team accidentally took his taxi first. This Dan was definitely in need of a cool drink and some alone time, so again, we began the next activity without him. This part of the day was all games and silliness. During our project we were expected to introduce new sports and encourage health and fitness through P.E lessons at schools. Our Sports Development Officer, Danny, therefore demonstrated how to engage and humour a crowd of Fijian kids – which actually had us laughing just as hysterically as well. Dan watched us play rugby-netball and relay races from the steps by the grass. Luckily however, he was able to join us later where we sat on the veranda over the lake, listening to Danny’s anecdotes about handling one-to-one teaching in schools.

‘There will be days when the teacher could just sit back and expect you to lead the class. Now if you’re confident and want to do so, then go ahead. Feel free.’ He swatted a mosquito from the evening air. ‘But that's not your responsibility as volunteers. You’re here to make a difference to those individual kids who need close attention. It’s fine for you to just say to teachers, “no, actually, I’d like to work with this child.”’

We had a few case-study activities to go through in small groups and he taught us some simple learning methods and techniques, getting us to think about how to tackle a learning difficulty by identifying the root cause. It was a serious and yet, valuable part of our day, and we were able to loosen up again afterwards with a few kindergarten songs that got us all giggling.

‘What a day huh?’ I said to Andrew, as the smell of dinner drew us to the table and I began stuffing beef curry down my throat.

‘I know, right,’ he said, equally famished. ‘Do you have any idea which year group you want to teach?’

‘No, I’m not sure actually. I thought at first I wanted to teach kindi because they’d be so cute and everything, but sounds like it's quite a challenge.’

‘Yeah, I was thinking that myself,’ he said.

‘So what about you?’

‘Perhaps start with the older kids, do a week with kindi, and then something else in the last one. I’d like to do a different year group every week.’

‘Yeah, same. I think.’

And so we ate, mulling over our options and how much our perspectives had changed since the training.

‘I’ve got it! James Franco!’ said Amelia. ‘You look like James Franco.’

‘Yessss,’ we agreed, and all looked at Dan, who smiled.

‘I’ve had that before.’

We laughed. He’d fit in alright.

And so at last, Nigel had been right, it had been a very training heavy day. And still – there was one more thing to come. A very important lesson, to be held on the veranda in the moonlight, late that evening, just before we went to bed. But this lesson, so quint-essential to our Fijian experience, deserves a little blog post of its own.

To be continued….