How to transition poorly

Disclaimer: this is an ironic post highlighting the difficulty of transition. It paints a fairly bleak situation and expresses my tendencies but not the reality. I write this as a reminder to myself of my tendencies in order to try to counteract them in this really significant time. It is a reminder to give myself and my family time and grace as we face this significant change.

This is my guide to transitioning poorly. It is not exhaustive, nor ordered in any particular way. There may be overlapping themes coming through that express the personality of the author.

  1. Get preoccupied with the details of moving countries, ensuring that this consumes all your thoughts, your emotional energy and depletes you of resources to care for yourself and your family.
  2. Turn the grief that you feel in saying goodbye into anger that is easily released on those closest to you.
  3. Fail to see that grief, stress and moving country is going to sap you of energy and so fill your diary full, just to spite yourself.
  4. Assume that your family will not feel the same things as you and that you will all be fine. Children’s extra disobedience in this time is not a symptom of them feeling tired, grief, or anxiety themselves.
  5. Also assume that if your child/children don’t say anything, this means they are coping fine with the big change ahead. Full steam ahead then. You have no issues to deal with.
  6. Anger is the best way to deal with what you are feeling (regardless of whether it is stress or grief or anxiety). In fact get angry very quickly. This is always the best solution.
  7. Say yes to more responsibilities in this time, because you can manage it ๐Ÿ˜‰
  8. Don’t waste time sitting, thinking, processing and reflecting. Give yourself more fully to more insignificant jobs that will make you feel better immediately and help you push deeper down those stronger, tricky feelings to deal with.
  9. Disconnect from friendships early. Don’t get too close, it only hurts more when you leave.

Do you have any tips for transitioning poorly? I’m sure I’m not the only one who has a monopoly on transitioning poorly. Comment below so we can share the wealth of knowledge and all transition more poorly.

Transition feelings

A view of the Cambodian skyline from the Mekong.

When we arrived in Cambodia, almost 3 years ago, my head was ready to dive into life here. As we went along and got half-way through our first 3-year term, I knew roughly when we would be heading back to Australia (late 2019). Six months out from going back to Australia for our first home assignment, I noticed a change in how much I was thinking about Australia (more than in the last 2 years). This thinking has only increased 3 months out, and even now with under 2 months to go it has further escalated. In order to finish well, my mentor suggested not counting days until I was a month out. This has been a good move, helping to keep my head here.

So where am I up to? With each week as we get closer to moving back to Australia for half a year or so, two things happen. The first is my excitement for returning home grows. I start thinking about it more and so it occupies more of my time. Not that I’m sitting around just thinking about Australia all the time. I’ve still got plenty of stuff here to do, but there is more head-space devoted to Australia now than there was even a few months ago. I picture catching up with family and friends, visiting familiar places and doing things that I would normally do in Australia (more time outside is a big one).

The second thing that happens, as we get closer to heading back, is grief. This grief is different from my son, who has now spent more of his life in Cambodia than Australia. Most of what he knows is Cambodia. For him to leave is different from me who has spent only a small portion of my life here in Cambodia. However, I still experience grief as I consider heading back. There is grief about saying good-bye, even to those that we will see again in 7 months. There is more grief for those we are saying good-bye to for good (as they return home to a different country). There is also the grief of just not doing things that we enjoy here together (getting local drinks like แž‘แžนแž€แžขแŸ†แž–แŸ…, our being part of our neighbourhood or going to places that our family is now familiar with).

CMS prepares us for this by setting out the guideline that the first term on location should be three years. They encourage us to stay the whole time, without returning, so that we will feel settled here in Cambodia, before we return to Australia. This helps us to want to return to Cambodia for our second term (particularly with kids in mind). All I can say is that it has been gold advice for us. Cambodia is now known to us (with plenty more to know). So while we are excited for returning to Australia and to things known, we are also leaving Cambodia which is now known as well.

Grief and excitement are what we’re feeling as we prepare for another transition. Suffice it to say that it’s very easy to underestimate the tiredness that follows feeling all these things as we prepare to leave (not unlike the newness tiredness we felt in the beginning).

First year teaching: #5. ‘We’ made it.

We made it! I made it through my first year of teaching OT in Khmer. My students made it after suffering through my poor Khmer in order to understand God’s Word better (treasure in a jar of clay). They have managed to decipher meaning from my poor pronunciation. One time I was talking about sin, ‘the enemy within’, and they all heard about some sort of animal inside us. Other times I called the disciples horses instead of students (the vowels are similar). And I know the word for help can often sound like a very rude word if pronounced slightly wrong. Basically, my students were doing a lot of interpretation just to sit through my classes in Khmer. But I’m confident they were able to learn things too, not just struggle with my pronunciation.

As a teacher, I was constantly learning too. My students, whom I love dearly, helped me to learn. Some of their teaching was ‘brutally’ honest. One student remarked in a conversation, ‘Teacher, you sound like Google translate’. It was just an honest assessment and I needed thick skin in order to receive.

I have also learnt a lot this past year about teaching from my mistakes. I learnt on day 1 that while you can have good things to teach, there is a right and a wrong time to teach that stuff. Day 1 is not the day to give an overview of the history of OT theology. Important as it is, probably better a mid-semester topic so I don’t scare too many away on the first day.

There were also easier lessons to learn. One time I looked over at my translator waiting for him to translate and he looked back at me weirdly. Then it dawned on me; I’d been speaking in Khmer and hadn’t realised it and was wanting him to translate for me, but he didn’t need to at that point. The Khmer was coming to me so easily I had not realised I was speaking in my non-native tongue. So there were times where I learnt that my Khmer was better than I thought it was (a nice lesson to learn sometimes, particularly in the context of often learning that your language is not as good as you think).

One capstone of the year was a random conversation over lunch near the end of second semester. Some students asked me a question about a story from 1 Kings (some of the content from our classes). We were able to have a discussion together about this question for a decent amount of time.

To survive the first year of teaching the OT in Khmer was my major goal of this year. To converse in Khmer about a biblical topic was the cherry on top.

First year teaching: #4. Preparation process (during semester)

What a mess! My Khmer material in diagram.

My preparation looked drastically different for the Book of Kings (the picture above is a summary of the structure) as opposed to my preparation for Genesis. Prepping for my first class, on Genesis, I was going in to the classroom blind in some ways; I didn’t know my own Khmer abilities, or the students abilities, and so I guessed. Prepping for Kings (mid semester 2 as opposed to Genesis early semester 1) was a different story and the picture above captures the heart of the difference.

By the time of mid-semester 2 I had found my preparation stride. I knew more where the students were up to. I was more clear on my own abilities (strengths and weaknesses). Most importantly I’d found my prep stride. I was clearer on what I wanted from my teaching and from the students and so I was able to structure class time around that with a mix of what Chelsea Cooper (an actual teacher) shared with me (‘I do, we do, you do’ framework). Much of the many good ideas that I incorporated (like Chelsea’s above) have come from ‘actual’ teachers as I have sought their advice. There is even some modelling that I’ve taken from the language school that I learnt Khmer at.

So what did preparation look like for me mid first year teaching? Two lessons.

Firstly, early on I realised that rather than using dot points in English, translating them to Khmer and then filling them out in Khmer (the aim being to write more in a Khmer way). I realised I needed to make pretty full English notes and then translate them. That way I wasn’t trying to do two things at once; think of what to write and then thinking of how to say it in Khmer.

Secondly, pictures were my staple. Rather than powerpoint pictures, I’d draw them on the board, giving myself and my students a breather from my Khmer. The benefit of the pictures was that it helped the students to get a sense of a whole book. And in my prep the pictures were my way of getting sense of a book as well. So pictures (like the one above) became one central feature of the way I taught.

Along with learning how to prepare lessons, what I saw during semester was an efficiency improvement. I got quicker at prepping each lecture in the same way that in my first 3 years of ministry I got more efficient in writing sermons. For my teaching, I knew that I needed to have my English notes done by the Thursday or Friday before class the next Wednesday. Then there was translating, checking that translation, turning that translation into activities and handouts and then practising my notes. This efficiency was particularly noticeable in second semester, where first semester was just trying to find my way.

I have much more to learn about how to prep for classes, but this first year of teaching has laid a great foundation for further lessons that I need to learn about teaching.

Post script: I taught a seminar out in the province just last weekend. The pastors comment was a wonderful encouragement. He said “Your pronunciation is not clear. Your drawings are like a child has drawn them. But your teaching is very good.” This showed not only that he felt close enough to me that he could speak in such a direct way, but more that my prep learning had and is paying off in many different ways.

First year teaching: #3. The prep process (before I began)

There were so many unknowns as I started to prep for teaching. The big unknown was: would I be able to do it? Would I be able to teach the Old Testament in Khmer? The second big unknown was: how would I do it?

I began my teaching prep thinking I would read an OT book in Khmer to learn the vocabulary and help give me ideas for teaching. That plan soon changed. My new plan became; research in English, write notes in English, then translate those notes into Khmer.

My next big worry came about whether I would be able to read those Khmer notes. I had talked with some long term missionaries who said they prepared in English and translated on the go, rather than reading Khmer. I pushed ahead, partly because while I was learning new Khmer words as I went, the value of this plan was that I was using a level of Khmer that I could read. But also, from Bible college days, I remembered the phrase “writing is thinking”. So as I practised writing in Khmer, it also help me to think in Khmer as I prepared.

I was still concerned as to whether my plan would work out or not, so as I prepared I came up with a range of contingency plans. These plans ranged from my plan A teaching in Khmer using my own notes, plan B having a translator translate my notes and I use their notes, plan C (if I wasn’t keeping up) to prepare in English and be translated. These plans allowed flexibility; it could have meant a combination of me starting by teaching in Khmer, but if the workload got too much, switching to being translated in order to finish the content. You can tell that I wasn’t sure how it would go and so contingency plans allowed me to aim high while still having a back up plan.

More, later, on how my preparation process changed during semester.

First year teaching: #2. Add a dash of Khmer.

Being taught how to tie a Khmer dish of sticky rice and banana.

In the lead up to teaching at the Bible school there were days where I felt nervous about teaching in Khmer. Naturally. Partly this was because I was attempting to teach in Khmer after less than two years of language learning. And while I knew it would be really helpful for my Khmer it was also going to be painful as well.

One of the bits of advice that helped calm some of my nerves and continue on with teaching prep was this: “You’re not teaching Khmer, you’re teaching THE BIBLE in Khmer.” This advice was, in some ways, freeing for me. I didn’t need perfect pronunciation. The goal was for my students to grow in understanding the Bible. That could happen even if my pronunciation or use of Khmer phrases left a lot lacking. I needed to remember I’m teaching OT, not Khmer. Khmer, in this sense, is the instrument, not the goal. So even if I only had a few notes to play in Khmer, it was helpful to remember that a skilled musician only needs a few notes to play beautiful music.

In my repertoire was a decent ability to teach theology with a significant weakness in my Khmer. Having clarity on my abilities was helpful as I moved forward in my preparation. The way I visualised this, particularly on the days when I felt more nervous, was that I saw my teaching experience as a prop while my Khmer was in its infancy stages. I could rely on my ability to teach while I waited for my Khmer to improve. Two benefits that came from this thought process. The first is that it calmed some of my nerves when my mind would begin to run away with fears and anxieties. But secondly, and more on this in the next post, it helped shaped how I prepared for teaching and the content that I would use in teaching, including teaching methods.

First year teaching: #1. My non-teaching background?

Board game time on holidays

This series explores my experiences in my first year of teaching; my background leading up to teaching, my preparation, execution and reflection upon finishing.

The phrase “I am no teacher, nor the son of teacher” captures my feelings having found myself preparing to teach the Old Testament at a Bible School in Cambodia without any formal teaching qualifications. While I have much to learn on the teaching front, as I reflected (or at least steeled myself against the coming year of teaching), I realised that my background has provided me with multiple opportunities to exert or practice and refine some teaching skills.

I was explaining the rules of a board-game to someone and they remarked at how well I had explained the rules for them (whether I can play board games as well as I can teach is another matter). It wasn’t that I had taught them every single rule (people will know that details are not my forte). It was that I had captured the essence of the game and strategy in order to assist them beginning to learn and play the game. I feel like this shows some sort of aptitude for teaching.

I’ve heard it said that physio is 70% confidence and 30% skill. I can say that because in a past life, for a very short time, I worked as a physio (don’t get me started on the physio/chiro debate). An important part of being a physio is being able to build a rapport. But when I think more about what I did as a physio, I can see that at its heart are teaching skills. The essence of a lot of physiotherapy is to teach patients; teach patients about their condition and their recovery. Given that a big part of this recovery requires active participation by the patient, physiotherapy is about equipping a patient to help themselves recover. There is a teaching involved here.

As we were preparing for mission, I heard one missionary remark that preaching regularly in a church before teaching at a Bible School overseas was a great form of preparation. Being involved in ministry, from preaching regularly (to young and old) and receiving feedback along the way, to doing one-off talks, or attending camps with a series of talks, to leading small groups and their discussions, and even pursuing further study (with a thesis and so learning how to construct an extended argument), has provided various teaching opportunities in a variety of different formats. Further study in theology also enriched my teaching in terms of content. Ministry, in these senses, was a great preparation for teaching as it helped give me skills in content preparation (curriculum and weekly lessons) and delivery (communication skills). Examination skills were probably and still are one of my weaker areas that I need to grow.

Suffice it to say there were plenty of ways in which my background prepared me for teaching, even if it wasn’t with a formal teaching qualification.

Bridge Kids

An attempt at a bridge made of kids

Before coming to Cambodia I used the basic mechanics of a bridge as an analogy to describe a missionary — the connection that a missionary has between two cultures, their home culture and their new culture (this analogy I stole from another missio friend, Arthur). The basic picture is that a bridge has a connection to two places, but doesn’t really dwell in either but is stranded between.

Before coming to Cambodia I also did a seminar on some guesses that I had on mission. I talked about the immersion model of mission (living as completely as you can like the locals). I then opposed this idea with the idea of being connected that now comes to us through the internet and how this has changed mission. Does it mean that it’s harder to be immersed like it was before with so many ways and opportunities to connect with our home culture than before? My basic point was rather than think about these two mission types as ‘either/or’ (both are unattainable ideals as neither is truly possible), I found it helpful to view connection and immersion as two points on a spectrum and that missionaries will sit somewhere on that spectrum based on their goals and situation. Further, missionaries might slide up and down that spectrum at various stages of their ministry overseas.

Having been in Cambodia what I am realising is that this sliding between immersion and connection doesn’t necessarily just occur in the long term, but can occur around short periods of time. As missionaries prepare for furlough (home assignment) and so their head moves more towards their home country.

Having been in Cambodia what I’m also realising is what this idea of immersion and connection means for our kids. We haven’t been immersed as we initially thought and so that changes their experience of Cambodia, but also how much they are affected by Cambodia. Further, with more connection this has also affected their relationships with family and friends in a Australia (often in a really positive way). One example of this is a closeness with grandparents that might not have been possible before (see here, here and here for further details). In my seminar I had been exploring immersion and connection from serving as a missionary point of view. What I haven’t really begun to explore (but we have been experiencing) is how immersion and connection affect our kids.

While I appreciate the term TCK (Third Culture Kid) as a way of describing what it’s like to grow up overseas away from your parents home culture. For me, seeing them as Bridge Kids is a more concrete description of what it’s like to grow up overseas.

Overall thoughts on learning language FOR US.

As we come to the end of our first term, here are some more big picture reflections on language learning in Cambodia for us. I say for us, because this is different for everyone.

A big part of learning a language is having goals (like I want to be fluent or I want to do this with a language). These goals help shape what you’re learning. And we were prepared for this in our mission training. What I wasn’t as ready for was how much a persons context plays into their language learning. While most people have goals in language learning, I’ve been seeing how context plays a big part in how we pick up a language. Three contexts that influence our language learning are the country we reside in, the ministry we are a part of (or hope to be) and our personality that we bring to learning a new language.

Pre-arriving in Cambodia, I was hoping for fluency in the long run and in the medium term the ability to teach in Khmer. I was also hoping that my kids would be fluent too. Now I see how much context plays into our language learning and affects our goals. The short answer is that I’m much more flexible on language goals seeing how much contexts affects us.

It’s been interesting to see how the country that we are serving in plays into our ability to learn language. Below are some observations that I’ve made on how Cambodia, our ministry and my personality context affects our language learning.

Country context:

  • Khmer is an Asian language, so there seems to be a longer acquisition time in comparison with learning a European language. This is important to keep in mind for myself so that I don’t make unhelpful comparisons about rates of language acquisition with missionary friends in other countries.
  • Cambodia seems to have more of a culture of foreigners who don’t learn the local language. Now there good reasons for not learning Khmer and not so good reasons as well (of which I won’t go into). One of those reasons is that you can manage to live in Cambodia with English and only a little Khmer. I’d also like to say I’m no expert, so it may be that other countries have just as many missionaries or expats who don’t know the local language. The main affect of this seems to be that locals are always expecting me to speak in English when we first come into contact.

Ministry context:

  • While my educated guess is that while living in the province it is easier to learn language, we have chosen to learn Khmer in the city (see point below). I think my speaking and listening would have been better if I had learnt Khmer in the province, but I wonder if I could have been reading and writing as well as I can now if I had learned those skills in the country.
  • Our goal has been for me to teach the Bible in Khmer. In order to teach well, while having good Khmer is sought after, what’s more important is that the students understand the Bible better than before the class.
  • Part of our ministry context is also family context. Our kids don’t have the exposure to the Khmer language in the same way that we had expected before we came. This changes our family’s ability to function in different Khmer settings (weddings, holidays, outings and other things). More on this below.

Personality context:

  • I have high expectations. While helpful in some ways, I also need to be aware of pushing too hard. The outcome is that any time I have a chance to lower my workload, this is probably the right move for us given the context of just settling into a new country in this first term.

These are just some of the ways our context has affected our language learning. So where are our goals currently as we finish one term and prepare for another?

Currently: We want our kids to love Cambodia whether or not they learn the language. This is more important to us. They can function in Cambodia without a lot of Khmer, so if they come away from our time here loving Cambodia and the people, but not knowing a whole lot of Khmer, that’s a win for us. In terms of Sam’s language, we want to be mindful of the gap between Sam’s Khmer and mine. However, what’s more important is not so much the gap between us, but that Sam’s language continues to improve at the pace she is able to go at.

Being on location has shown us how, while language goals are important, context also plays an important part in learning language.

How to change a lightbulb in Cambodia

20181113_0735416282266139826269407.jpg “How many people does it take to change a lightbulb in Cambodia?”

Inspired by Tamie Davis’ (another CMSer) post on changing a lock in Tanzania, we wanted to give you a sense of what it’s like to try and get a job done around the house.

So basically, we’ve noticed the light in the kitchen flickering for a week. It is annoying enough that it becomes one of the jobs that we decide that we are going to do something about (many jobs don’t make it this far because of what we are about to describe).

Sam mentions it to our house helper. She suggests we ask our tuktuk driver (who is supremely helpful majority of the time) and he proceeds to remove the faulty fluorescent globe in order to replace it. However, in removing it either he busts the socket or the socket is already busted. Good chance for the latter as there is a bunch of water damage in a number of areas in our house, combined with cheap construction. So at this point we need to call in an electrician. Sam and our helper don’t know who to call, so our tuktuk driver makes a call. This moves from a job where we are chatting to one Khmer person (our tuktuk driver) to a full on Khmer conversation with multiple Khmer voices and opinions. We have our tuktuk driver chatting with our house helper about the situation who are both chatting to the Cambodian electrician.

We watch on as the electrician removes the damaged light fitting, and attaches a new, smaller, fitting. There are some questions about tape, and Sam finds the electrical tape and sticky tape. Both are used, electrical tape on the light fitting, and sticky tape to secure the empty globe box to the hole in the ceiling. Job complete, the light is turned on, and it is declared that this light is “brighter than before,” and so obviously better. To us, there is a loss in aesthetic quality, but it’s still functional. Then there’s negotiating payment.

Here’s how we see the conversation. We have our house helper who is extremely loyal and who we assume is going in to bat for us. We have our tuktuk driver who is extremely well connected in the neighbourhood and is loyal towards us but not in the same way as our house helper. We overhear the Cambodian electrician state a higher price than our house helper is happy with, with the reasoning being we are foreigners living in a gated community.

We get lost in this cacophony of Khmer. Leaving aside the Cambodian electrician who seems to be overcharging us for dismantling a light fitting and leaving our new bulb just hanging from the wires that protrude from the ceiling. We are comforted because we have our helper who is supremely looking out for us and a guy who knows everyone involved. This mediatorial grouping means that we have connections and a decent chance of not being fully ripped off despite the lack of language.1

The job gets done in some fashion. Not the way we had thought or would prefer. But done according to them and so (for this time) done according to us as well. So how many people does it take to change a light bulb in Cambodia? We would say at least 4.


  1. My guess is that language is one of the major barriers to being able to function in any new culture. So a lack of language already puts you at a distance, even while living in the culture. Just trying to do basic jobs in a new culture is stressful unlike doing them in your passport country. โ†ฉ