Examinations and Celebrations

A couple of days ensued after Selingan and before Pom Pom Island in which I had to work. Yes, work. Well, somebody's got to do it. I packed Aurelia off up the Mountain and she came back down reporting that it was easy. She lives by the Alps though, so read that as you will...

With the beginning of school after the break, Year 6 had more than usual to be sad about: with only two weeks left until the national exams, they are spending every night camping at school, the better to study and learn until as late as humanly possible. Last classes are at 10pm; they start again at 7am. At one school, a teacher tells me she was up until midnight dealing with welfare issues; the kids were up until 2. The headmistress is considering sending them all home again if they don't stop seeing it as a summer camp, but the parents complain that they don't study when they're at home. Teachers are unhappy because it means a lot more work for them, and the kids - one third of whom will fail the exams entirely, on average - are stressed and anxious; their midnight antics are a side product of that. It seems to me to be one of them lose-lose-lose situations, but you know, that's just me. 

The week after the week after the break (because between now and about the second week of October, everything will be counted from then; after that, time will be marked in relation to the end-of-year holidays...) we had a much more fun event at my biggest school (and the most Muslim school): a big party, combining Hari Raya and Hari Merdeka (Independence Day). 

The children were all allowed to attend in their holiday finery, and when I arrived, they were all standing to attention in the straightest lines I have ever seen children make, listening to the teachers exhort them to do their best to make their country proud.

We sang the national song, the state song, the school song, and finally the Hari Merdeka song, and then it was time for the choir competition. I did as I was told and sat in the front row with a flag.

The kids had been put into groups spanning three year groups (1-3 or 4-6) and given a teacher as a choirmaster, then spent two days rehearsing a version of the Merdeka song. Some did better than others... :) But all waved flags and grinned in their finery!

After the choir competition, the headmaster and local VIPs cut the cake...

...which is almost as obligatory as the food at these events.

The kids got their own food in their classrooms - each child had brought one thing to share from home, as well as their own plate, spoon and cup. A few had brought an old plastic container or bowl, and some had brought nothing at all - the teachers produced spares for them.

Through all the speeches and flag-waving and cake-cutting (and the cake was only for the teachers!), I never once saw a child seriously misbehave - they were little stars, singing and smiling, even when they were hot and tired.