While traveling, it never failed that I had to really dig in to explain my two years in Teach For America. It always took a little more time to explain the educational setting in the U.S., the creation and donors for TFA, and the prestige of the program. Ultimately, I often wondered if I’d accurately portrayed the program without sounding like a martyr or a braggart.

But back in the U.S., there’s rarely any explaining necessary. Most people of my generation who went to a four-year university know someone who did TFA. And just having those three initials on my resume and website have opened many doors for me. Literally (any time I’ve been house-hunting in NYC, as soon as the person finds out I was a TFA corps member they automatically believe that I’m a good person and could care less to actually meet me and make sure) and figuratively.

As Teach For America now expands globally, I wonder, what kinds of people in Estonia will join there.

Whoever they are, I’m hoping it helps me explain my two-year experience to people in other countries later.

But just so you know, I’m probably not going to Estonia any time soon.

I am a dork. I know this.

But, seriously, since I’ve been back in the States, I’ve spent an obscene amount of time at libraries.

L 7. Right here.

I was a big dork when I was little and often got in trouble for trying to read at the dinner table. For some reason, I would read Archie comic books everywhere and couldn’t put them down even come supper time.

Here in South Africa, I’ve been helping the kids develop their reading skills. I discovered this fabulous little find hidden away in their reading books. Definitely had to read this 1987 edition during a silent reading session. I think I may have owned this book myself when I was in elementary school. I’m pretty sure, though, it cost my folks more than the two rand the people here paid for it!

Some of you may have been wondering what I’ve been up to for the last couple of weeks and why I’m staying in South Africa so long.

Well…I’m here in a REALLY small town volunteering at a children’s home. During the evenings (and sometimes during the day now that the kids are on spring break), I’m teaching the 28 older kids. Mostly I’m doing a lot of reading/language arts skills and also helping with their basic math skills.

I have to say, it’s been a bit difficult sometimes as not only is there a wide range of ages but also a wide range of skill levels within each age. But…it’s coming along. And we’ll see where we’re at two to three weeks from now…

Returning to my land of study abroad, I can’t help but be SO glad I did it. In fact, I’d say my decision to study abroad is my second-best choice I’ve made in life.

Why don’t more Americans do it? Don’t know…but I do know plenty of 20-somethings who regret not doing it.

So if you know any young Yanks contemplating it, I’ve come up with a great list to convince them to go:

1. Making out with non-Americans. Remember in Love, Actually when Collin wants to go to the US because he thinks he’s “got a cute British accent”? Well, yeah, he does. And, yeah, you’ll have a cute American one too. Even in countries where they hate American politicians, there’s always going to be quite a few who’ll swoon over an American accent/face/fashion sense. And even if you hate dating, well, it’ll still probably happen.

2. A friend’s a friend forever…and wherever they live, you can visit. Visit your new international friends wherever they head back to — from upstate New York to Sydney (see photo below) to the Maldive Islands…

3. “Yes, I’m American.” Good, bad, hilarious…you’ll see how others see us. College students in any country aren’t known for being the most shy bunch. You may be asked how many times you’ve been sued, how many guns your family owns, or how many celebrities you’ve met in your life…all things related to, of course, how they see us.

4. It’s all fun and games. Playing sports, especially American-invented ones, abroad brings a whole new appreciation for international sports competitions. Note to self: on international basketball courts, the lanes are trapezoids…

5. Parlez-vous francais? Instead of your only memory of French being that learning it made you wake up every day at 7 a.m. for three semesters, studying abroad can give you the chance to be fluent in it. And besides that…Americans really need to learn more languages. Really.

6. Money, money, money. Traveling on a student budget seems like a deal sure to break the bank, right? Well, maybe not. Non-need based financial aid can mean a profit if the school you attend has a lower tuition and lower cost of living. When I studied abroad, I took three week-long trips to see both of Australia’s coasts and a trip to Bali (see photo above); even with those trips and my international flight, I spent the same amount I would’ve just going to classes and living in Missouri for that semester. Of course, the exchange rate is not-so great here anymore, but there are still other places where it’s not so bad. Wherever you choose, though, even if it’s uber-expensive London, it will be cheaper to live there as a student than it will be to vacation there as an adult.

7. Let’s broaden our minds. Even if you go to a 25,000+ university, there’s classes there you can’t take. Australian Literature and Film? Definitely not offered at University of Missouri. Offered at Edith Cowan University in Perth, Australia? Yep. And world history in another country? Definitely not the same world history you’ll get back home.

8. Drinking! Not only can you legally drink in most countries before 21, but you’ll come back with: 1) new drinking games 2) new and different drinks you like and/or 3) new words for drinking…all which are great things to pull out back at college bars/parties in the states. (Or if you’re the goody-two-shoes like I was, only 2 will apply to you because you only had one drink over the whole six months…)

9. All the cool kids are doing it.

With a wardrobe now down one Missouri Football shirt, I was super duper excited to come across a “St. Louis Is my Hometown” T-shirt at the JJ Weekend Market here in Bangkok. It was perfect. (I mean, what could be better than buying an original Missouri-loving shirt in Thailand?)

Yep. Perfect. Albeit…surprising. With Hollister and Abercrombie & Fitch real and fake Ts all over the market, most shirts had animals prints or girl-power or beach-town themes. But not this little gem of a shirt.

Why make a St. Louis T? You ask. (Or at least I did) Turns out a young guy, Tui, has been designing original shirts under his Rockstar brand for the last year or so. And not only is he (shown below, left, with his brother) a shirt designer, but he’s also a former high school exchange student of small-town Missouri (Moberly, Missouri, population 13,992). Although he never made it to the STL, he knows what it’s about.

And he knows how to make T-shirts, too. I’ll definitely be wearing this one over the rest of my trip.*

*However when I get back, I may have to give it up to a truly St. Louisian…otherwise I’m sure I’ll be stopped on the street somewhere and asked that inevitable St. Louis greeting: “Where’d you go to high school?“

I’m pretty much an evil wench, but after teaching, cute kids who bat their eyes and plead with me rarely get my sympathy (or money). Instead, I’m annoyed that they’ve figured out manipulation at such an early age and wish I could meet their parents to discuss the child’s education.

At Angkor Wat yesterday, the place was swarming with these elementary-aged kids trying to sell their goods. Trying to interest me, one asked where I was from. “USA,” I replied making my way inside the complex.

“Oh! American! You’re from California, right?” asked the boy. Although I always tell people I’m from Missouri but have been living in California for the last four years, I agree, knowing that it’s partly true. After he learns he’s right, he proceeds to tell me, “The capitol of California is Sacramento. The governor is Arnold Schwarzenegger.”

I’m unimpressed. Tell me something I don’t know, kid. So I smile and ask him what he thinks of Arnold. He looks at me blankly. It’s clearly not part of his shtick, so annoyed at me, he just asks me to buy some of his postcards (”I don’t mail postcards,” I truthfully tell him).

On my way out, I’m stopped by another group of kids selling bracelets, water, and postcards. This time, it’s a girl who asks what state I’m from. “Missouri,” I reply. She stops in her tracks and gives me a sly look like I’ve just made up a word to throw her off. I turn and look at her and wait for her verbal reaction. Nada. “The capital is Jefferson City,” I tell her before continuing my exit as she keeps staring at me.

Maybe if I’d said “Missour-uh” instead of “Missour-ee” she would’ve been able to tell me my governor is Matt Blunt…

Random sidenote: I’m starting to think I actually will go back to calling my home state “Missour-uh.” Two reasons: When Europeans repeat my pronunciation, it always comes out sounding more like “misery” (and it’s definitely not). And, after a bit of online research, it seems that the Native American tribe my state was named after was spelled both Missouria and Missouri…which leads me to believe the correct pronunciation is actually “Missour-uh” but those French-influenced St. Louisians saw the “i” at the end of the second spelling and started pronouncing it like they would in French…

Today I saw this horrible video on 67 Degrees with a 40% Chance of Rain (a fellow MU J-School grad’s blog). It’s of Friday night’s Miss Teen USA 2007 pageant, and the not-so-articulate Miss South Carolina Teen USA is attempting to answer a question about America’s education.

It’s definitely evidence that Miss USA and Miss Teen USA are pageants and not the “scholarship program” that Miss America purports itself to be; I mean if this gal can be 3rd Runner-Up…eeks!

But there is a definite down-side to this hilarious/horrifying on-stage response. While watching Star World (an Asian channel shown in 53 countries across the continent), I saw the channel was advertising the pageant, which will be aired for all of Asia to see next month. I’m sure this gal’s amazing response will leave an amazing impression on the viewers abroad. Really, Asia, I promise we’re not all like that.

As I make my way through Asia, I’m trying to remember what I was taught during my K-12 years during history classes. I am struggling to recall just what pictures and words I read back then. I know that in our world history books the Korean War probably got about a half-page in most books. The Vietnam War teachings inevitably gave loads of mention to the role of media and protestors.

But I can’t recall learning about America’s “Secret War” in Laos. I wonder if it’s simply because it never got a textbook mention back in the day…or if it’s because America did such a good job of keeping it a secret.

If you’re like me and don’t recall learning about the war in Laos either…here’s a recent BBC article about some of the heavily bombed areas in Northeastern Laos.

At a temple last week, I was walking toward BB when three novice monks (ones who are studying at the monk university) asked me where I was from. I talked with them a bit but felt a bit awkward. I couldn’t help but feel they were definitely flirting when they kept trying to convince me I should help them with their English the next day. Why did I feel awkward? They were 17. Seventeen! Oh yeah…and they’re monks!

But, talking with them, I did realize that them thinking about girls/women isn’t as far-fetched for them as I thought; they weren’t all planning on being monks for life (but they are still 17). They’re there to learn about the religion, and as one of them said, “to make my parents happy,” and like quite a few other novice monks, they’re also there because this is one of the few ways they could get higher education.

The monk I met a few days ago [above] told me, “You’re lucky you’re American.” He then went on to talk about how great it is that we have such broad access to higher education in the States. After working with Teach For America for two years where we were constantly reminded how access to education isn’t equal in the US, his off-the-cuff comment was a reminder that although our education system has some problems, others may still envy it.

PS: I also asked him about bargaining. Monks sometimes do it too. Whew!