Thinking about going abroad to teach English as a foreign language or keen to fund a trip by doing some overseas teaching? Turner Wright found it takes more than you might expect to prove your worth.

Eager to experience teaching English as a second language in other parts of the world, I signed up with the Thai Mueang Volunteers last summer. The first few days Thailand were fairly laid back: light-hearted conversation on the beach, finding the best internet café for 20 Baht an hour, going over lesson plans and introducing myself to the other teachers.

You can imagine my surprise when I was told I would not be doing any teaching on my first official day with students. The reason? Teacher's Day, a time for honoring educators with ceremonies and student speeches, fell on the first day of my four-week enrolment.

I was sick with guilt from the moment I heard this would be happening (although this feeling didn't even remotely compare to my embarrassment afterwards); students were obligated to pay their respects to me as a teacher when they had not heard so much as one word of English from my lips. The best action, I decided, would be to just hang my head as humbly as possible and try to keep the fear out of my eyes.

However, nothing could have prepared me for the onslaught of emotions that followed. I arrived at school extra sweaty, having cycled a few kilometers under the Thai sun, and waited anxiously in the teacher's lounge for the announcements that were sure to follow.

All students were ushered to largest gathering place on school property: a concrete slab void of chairs, which formed the foundation for the 4 - 6 classrooms above. A few weeks later in this same venue I would be handed a microphone and left to my own devices to create a lesson in front of 200 penetrating eyes; I would have gone through ten days of classes like that rather than one minute of an unjustified Teacher's Day (for me, anyway – certainly the other teachers were entitled).

The photos of the King were arranged at the head of the "room", the teachers and I gathered on both sides of his shrine, the students lined up perpendicularly, facing us all. In Thailand, the King is highly respected, almost to the point of divinity; it is a crime for anyone to denounce the royal family or damage an image of the King. As his face is on all Thai currency, it is bad form to drop a coin or bill, almost sacrilege to accidentally step on one.

Respect given where due, the students approached the images of the King by shuffling slowly on their knees, their heads slightly bowed and assorted flowers in their arms. I had never seen such deference to a single figure - not even the Emperor of Japan – and took the students' performance in stride, amazed at their humility and behavior. However, the King was not the only one to be honored that day; having delivered the flowers to their exalted place and given a bow, each set of students shuffled once again… to the teachers. One by one every last student in the school bowed his or her head to the floor in front of me. For more than 80% of the student population, this was their first time to see my face. And apparently, they had no problem introducing themselves from the ground.

The kind of respect given by students to teachers in Asian schools is virtually nonexistent in the west. Certainly we have all had an instructor who we lived in fear of, or greatly admired, and let our actions speak accordingly; but the entire staff? The system as a whole? If you told an American teenager he was expected to start bowing at the beginning of the school day or spend more than an hour honoring those whose careers make his future possible, he'd likely laugh in your face, then play hooky.

Yet nothing odd is thought of this sort of behavior in Asia, and it's more than simply teaching style. Teachers and students literally exist in separate castes; to violate this invisible barrier by showing contempt is almost thinkable – of course, there are always troublemakers. The same is true of positive reinforcement; where some college professors in the West have no problems letting their guard down after hours and drinking with their students, this type of friendship just isn't considered proper between students and teachers in many parts of Asia...

"We are not your friends," one studious sophomore insisted. "We will never be your friends." Her response, which I initially took as hostility toward me as a non-Korean, left me feeling depressed. It wasn't until months later that I finally came to understand how the Korean notion of friendship is vastly different than that of the West. By their Confucian system of manners, "friendship" is reserved for people of similar social status – and to regard a teacher as a "friend" (rather than a superior) would be a grave insult for both parties. (Vagabonding, Rolf Potts)

This idea goes beyond Korea, and is one reason travelers seeking employment as ESL instructors might find it difficult to hold in their personalities and play the roles to which they are assigned. People working with the JET Program might be shocked by the level of discipline in Japanese schools: automatic bows to the teacher instilled by years of practice, few, if any, physical altercations (though bullying, ijime, is a huge problem).

One might find a similar reaction when teaching in some of the more rural parts of Thailand. Although you might be able to successfully disguise any "inappropriate" behavior in cities like Bangkok or Phuket, in a small town environment, all actions lead back to you: started crying because your significant other broke with up from across the globe? Be prepared to relive it Monday morning when fellow teachers, who heard it from the town gossip, who heard it from a store owner, who heard it from her meddling son, ask what was troubling you at 7:38pm on Saturday night. Feel like ducking into a local karaoke bar to enjoy the company of some less-than-reputable women? Don't even think about it; you'll lose credibility as a teacher and a foreigner living abroad. All respect associated with someone in your position completely vanishes – in behaving badly, you not only ruin your chances, but diminish the prospects of all native English speaking teachers to follow.

The title of teacher is one of honor, and not to be taken lightly. So many Americans, UK nationals, Aussies, and Kiwis are enticed by superficial ads proclaiming:

Why not spend the next year (or more!) teaching in Japan, skiing the Japanese Alps, exploring Japan (not to mention Thailand, Cambodia, Australia, and China), and eating amazing food all while gaining valuable professional and life experience?

Fly out to Korea and broaden your experience!!!

You will have an opportunity to travel, experience new culture and teach English.

While much of what they state is true, many job seekers would frown upon calls for qualified teachers with conservative values to provide a valuable and necessary service. Inevitably, the native English speaker who adjusts to his role in society as a teacher and conforms to the local culture is the one must suited to the position, although many times schools will have to settle for whoever holds a valid passport, regardless of maturity (i.e. in Thailand).

What's been your experience when talking with English teachers abroad? Do they take their positions as seriously as they should?

Photo Credits: 1, 2, 3 all via Flickr (Creative Commons).