When I first arrived in Cambodia in March 2013, I was immediately struck by a culture and civilization completely foreign and unfamiliar to me. I could barely grasp their way of thinking, their perspective on life, or their everyday gestures. Eager to understand, I explored the country, studied its history, and looked into the eyes of its people. Slowly but surely, I began to comprehend their unique qualities, their joys, and their fears.
This journey of understanding extended to my students as well. I found children often burdened by rigid and outdated rules, their eyes sometimes lost and confused about how to organize their thoughts and the world around them. What was particularly evident in some was a lack of affection. These children were often raised in family structures reminiscent of our own families in the 1950s, where poverty or wealth each presented their own challenges that impacted the children.
For my students, meeting me was like encountering someone different, someone attentive to their individual needs. For me, it was hard work, but it was followed by immense satisfaction and happiness as I watched them progress. I saw in them echoes of my own parents’ generation, a time when material possessions were often believed to be the best offering for children, and the Montessori method was an exception rather than the norm.
With the Cambodian children, I quickly learned that I couldn’t take anything for granted or assume they would understand intuitively. I had to suggest everything to them because, within their society, the historical and musical culture had been almost entirely erased.
At times, just when I thought we had made significant progress, students would come to class having forgotten nearly 40% of what they had learned. It felt like starting over. I remember the first time this happened; I was truly disheartened.
However, with time, I came to understand. A certain inertia and a desire to joke around and not dwell on problems or tiring things often led them to simply switch off and not concentrate. We must remember that these children are the offspring of the generation who were children during the Pol Pot regime. Their parents lacked role models or anyone to encourage them to improve themselves. They were somewhat like the lost boys of Neverland, finding themselves in a Year Zero after emerging from the jungle with little knowledge of the world.
Despite these challenges, I can confidently say that they were remarkable in their progress over time. Their results were satisfying and exceeded my expectations. It was simply a matter of life education. The children already possessed the potential within them; the teacher’s role is to help them bring that potential out.
Needless to say, in this exchange with them, I too was greatly enriched. Children have so much to give. Once you provide them with the means to discover themselves and the world, they surpass you at supersonic speed. I was always overjoyed when I saw their enthusiasm for a new piece of music, their pride in answering questions correctly, or their happiness in expressing their thoughts.
It was a lot of effort, but the results were deeply rewarding. Now, knowing that I will be leaving Cambodia in some time, I feel a profound sadness. These children have been a part of my personal growth; they have helped me immensely. They will always remain in my heart, just as I hope I will remain in theirs.
I want to share a little anecdote that always makes me smile. One day, during one of my lessons, I asked one of my young female students what she wanted to be when she grew up. She replied that she wanted to be a dentist. I then said that I would call her to have my teeth checked. With innocent candor, she responded that perhaps at first she wouldn’t recognize me because I would be old with gray hair, but then she would remember when she took lessons with Teacher Arianna and how wonderful it was to learn the piano together.
This experience in Cambodia has profoundly shaped my understanding of learning and the potential within every child, regardless of their background. It is this understanding that forms the very foundation of my Music & English Methodology.
Upon returning to Italy, I established my own school, putting my Music & English Methodology into practice. This allowed me to witness the benefits of this approach in an international context, further validating its effectiveness across different cultures. My aim in Italy was to enrich my experience by taking on the role of leader and owner of my own music institution. Looking towards the future, my goals include returning to the wonderful country of Cambodia to continue developing my methodology and build lasting foundations for music and English education within the community that first inspired it.
Music & English Methodology 