Teacher Training on the mountain

Grant, our friend and neighbour, was back from holidays. We spotted him in the communal garden, barefoot, relaxed, happy to be back. Next to him stood his mother, Jenny, visiting for a while. A lovely woman, warm and curious.

It didn’t take long to understand why Grant always speaks so highly of her.

What was funny, though, was watching our 50-year-old friend suddenly turn into a teenage boy again. Slightly louder, a bit more animated, eager in that familiar, almost childlike way. Some things never change.

That same day, we welcomed Nette, our third and final international exchange student of the year.

First lunch together, the usual: introductions, small talk, getting a feel for each other. Paperwork checked, expectations set. Then, a walk through the school, showing her where she’d be spending the coming months, and meeting her mentor.

By the afternoon, she was already thrown into it. Her internship began. She was eager to get started.

And then, out of nowhere, the day took a sharp turn.

A snake.

Pitch black scales, nearly two meters long, sliding through the garden and toward the classrooms. For a second, everything slowed down. You could feel the tension snap into place.

Before any of us really processed what was happening, a group of Year 1 boys had already grabbed a broom.

No hesitation.

They chased it down and killed it within minutes.

It was over as quickly as it started.

A stark reminder: these kids didn’t grow up the same way we did. This wasn’t fear for them; it was instinct, normal.

With all the international teachers now present, we started planning a trip to the Learning Centre on Kulen Mountain. Not just to show the place, but to give context, to let them feel where our students come from.

Crucial background information on where all our students grew up.

Back at school, things moved quickly. The international teachers jumped in—English classes, Project-Based Learning, computer sessions—working side by side with the local teachers.

Different backgrounds, same goal. It started to click.

That evening, we ran into Grant and Jenny again at The River Café. We had a lovely, spontaneous dinner together.

A few days later, we had a meeting with TDSO, a partner organisation, who invited us for a meeting at a school at the foot of Kulen Mountain. The goal: explore a teacher training program in the Kulen region.

We set off on our little scooter, trusting Google Maps as always.

Which, of course, led us straight into the middle of nowhere.

Narrow dirt roads. Rice fields stretching endlessly on both sides. No signs, no clear directions, just the occasional wave from a local pointing us vaguely forward.

The school was exactly where you’d expect it by then: hidden, quiet, almost invisible unless you knew where to look.

We made it. Somehow.

And the meeting? A good one.

More than that, we managed to shift things. Instead of setting up the training there, we proposed hosting it on Kulen Mountain, using our Learning Centre.

They agreed.

A small win, but one that could ripple outward.

Now, we plan to reach out and get more schools and teachers to join the training.

We rode back the same way we came. Dusty, a bit sunburnt, but relieved.

No flat tires.

No wrong turns this time.