By Lailani Mendoza

I LOVE words.

I love how the right combination can conjure an image, a scent or a taste – and magically transport me to the writer’s world. I love how they let me enjoy the adventures of the characters vicariously – whether they are fictional or real.

As a child in the Philippines, while most girls my age treasured their Barbies, I cherished my books. I especially liked English, because the English storybooks fascinated me.

My uncle, a soldier at the U.S. army base, brought home used books from the American high school – which I read eagerly. At an early age, I became acquainted with Truman Capote and Mark Twain. Thus began my infatuation with words.

My enchantment with words was evident to my family. In the Philippine markets, vendors usually wrapped dried fish in old newspaper before placing it in a plastic bag for the customer. My mother said I used to read the newspaper print the fish came with!

I felt God must have a purpose for giving me this passion. Later, when my family moved to Canada, I enrolled in a journalism program. To me, being a journalist meant combining words with societal change. By working as a journalist, I felt I could do something worthwhile. I sought to become a good steward of this passion for writing.

However, life was tough after graduation. I had difficulty finding a reporting job. I also had a loan to pay off. After hopping from one job to another – none of which was related to my degree – my self-esteem dipped lower and lower.

I began to question God’s purpose for my life. God was silent – so I waited. And waited.

Like an oasis in the desert, an opportunity arose to work as an English teacher in Korea. I immediately sent my resume and received a reply in four days. I asked God to close this door if it wasn’t meant for me.

Before I knew it, there I was in a foreign land – standing in front of a group of Korean students. I started teaching them the English words I loved so much. It was a struggle at first, but those kids grew on me like mushrooms grow in bamboo groves after a thunderstorm.

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My reward came in caricatures of myself on their test papers, captioned “You’re a great teacher!” Their love flowed with each slice of kimbab (Korean sushi), pear and spicy rice cake they fed me. I was astounded by this unabashed display of affection, of which I was the unworthy recipient.

Of course, there were moments when I wondered if I was making any difference in their lives. No matter how much I tried, motivating them to learn a language they rarely used on an average day was difficult.

Getting lost in translation was a weekly occurrence. Thus, my students and I became very good at charades.

Their progress in English came a snail’s pace behind. Still, I lived for the rare ‘light bulb moments’:  a well-deserved A+ for a hardworking student who usually got a C; a well-constructed, grammatically correct essay; an ‘aha!’ look on their faces, after plodding through a difficult lesson.  

And then there were the roadblocks. Just like the proverbial black sheep in every family, some students  constantly misbehaved. But no matter how trying it was, I cried and prayed – and then I forged on.

These experiences taught me patience and tested my ingenuity. I ended up using a point system to discipline the students. Good behaviour was rewarded with ice cream.  

As difficult as these experiences were, they were character-building for both me and my students.

On my very last day at work, the students sang a beautiful song to bid me farewell. The words “You are born to be loved” floated in the air, and found their way to my heart.

It was the most touching gift I’ve ever received.

A wise person once said “Life is lived forward – but it’s understood backward.” Back in Canada, I realized why God was silent: he wanted me to trust his timetable.

My year in Korea helped pay off my student loan – and earned me a treasure trove of wonderful memories. I have grown in my faith, as I depended entirely on God. He does have a plan for me.

And my love for words connected me with students who enriched my life – more than they will ever know.  

Lailani Mendoza is a Kamloops journalist.

June 2008