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Understanding Cheating in Nepal

Chadwick Fleck
Quality Education for Minorities Network

A Bit of Background Information
External Indicators of an Ethnocentric Perspective
Latent Cultural Differences
A Deeper Understanding
References
Recommended Citation in the APA Style

In mud and stone schoolrooms on a mountainside in Nepal, I taught seventh-grade science to 65 kids, and sixth-grade English to 135. Working with that many kids at once was a challenge, and the language barrier was always a problem. The kids did not have enough space to sit comfortably on their hard wood benches, and I did not have anything to teach with except for a chalkboard, chalk and some local materials like bamboo and bottle caps. The science curriculum called for lessons on electricity and space travel although none of my students had even a light bulb in their homes. The English text had stones of submarines and a giant octopus although the kids could not fathom what an ocean is like. I mention this to provide a portrait of the environment in which I was working and to provide a measure of comparison. None of this was as upsetting or frustrating to me as the first day when our school held mid-term exams and I watched 90% of my students "cheat" on their tests. I was shocked and offended. The kids were casual about copying their friends’ answers, and teachers monitoring the exams were equally casual about stopping them! In this paper I will show that Americans and Nepalese have different ideas of what "cheating" is, that these ideas are culturally derived, and that their differences can be a source of great conflict between American teachers and their Nepalese students and counterparts. [paragraph 1]

A Bit of Background Information

Exams were scheduled twice a year and, like finals week in American high schools, took about a week to complete. A class had one two-to-three-hour subject exam in the morning and another in the afternoon. Teachers monitored their own exams, and those teachers who were not busy giving an exam would wander from class to class and help out. In my exams, I spread the kids as far from each other as possible in the room and on the benches. Before giving the students the exam, I gave them explicit instructions that I did not want any talking during the exam, that I expected them to do their own work, and that they should ask me if they had any questions. Then I asked them if this was clear, to which they said yes, and I distributed the tests. For the next two or three hours, I moved from the front to the back of the room telling students to watch their own papers, do their own work, and quit talking. Even the brightest kids in the class, who knew the material so well they could recite it, were talking with their neighbors. Occasionally, I would find cheat sheets on students. Then I would scold them loudly and try to make an example of the incident to others in the class. The class would be quiet for a few minutes, but then gradually return to "normal." [paragraph 2]

When the roving teacher would come by to give me a break, I gladly took it. After returning to my classroom, however, I would find the teacher reading an old magazine or talking with some students while the rest of the kids were whispering to their neighbors. Occasionally, the teacher would say out loud, "Be quiet, everybody," and then return to other business. As kids began to complete the exam, my monitoring job became both easier and more difficult. Those students that finished their exams were expected to leave the classroom and wait in the school courtyard, so I had a much smaller crowd of kids to look over. However, those who had finished often stayed just outside the classroom and would pass notes through the glassless windows of the building to friends still taking the exam. If I saw this, I would collect the notes. I would also go outside and try to catch the students, but they would run from the school grounds. If other teachers were nearby, they would help keep kids from the windows. But, my co-workers seemed unconcerned with children at windows on the other side of the courtyard. After all the students completed their exams, I would collect their papers and leave the school grounds for the day. This scenario repeated itself each time I monitored an exam in each subject I taught. [paragraph 3]

External Indicators of an Ethnocentric Perspective

What was at the root of my frustration with the Nepalese students’ and teachers’ behavior? The most obvious problem was my assumption:  because the Nepalese school system looked more or less like my own, it must have been a lot like my own. As in the U.S., a school day is divided into equal periods; a separate teacher teaches each subject; chalkboards and textbooks are the most common learning materials; and mid-term and final exams are crucial to passing a class. After all, the Nepalese had borrowed their educational system indirectly from Britain through India; thus, it is not surprising that much is similar to the U.S. system. The way that time is structured and allotted, that knowledge is fragmented into specialized subjects, and that teaching methods are teacher-centered seems to suggest a Western educational culture. Yet these structural similarities belie an enormous set of differences that I am still trying to comprehend today. [paragraph 4]

Some terminology from Edward T. Hall’s book, Beyond Culture (1976), will be useful to us in this discussion. Hall differentiates between low-context and high-context styles of communication (p. 91). Every culture has some measure of both styles, but each culture relies predominantly on one of the two. In a low-context message, most of the information being communicated from one person to another is in spoken or written language; the meaning lies in the explicit code. Low-context messages are direct and transparent in meaning. In a highcontext message, most of the information being communicated to someone is not in the explicit code; the meaning lies in the situation itself, in the relationship between the communicators, or elsewhere. Understanding this message requires an understanding of the context in which it is conveyed. Low-context messages send specific information, and their meaning is independent of the situation or context, while high-context messages are the opposite. Most Asian cultures communicate using high-context methods, and most Western cultures are low-context. [paragraph 5]

Within Hall’s high-context/low-context communication dimension is a cultural dimension that is now considered distinct (p. 39, 64.) The cultural dimension will be useful to us also, and Hofstede (1984) offers terms for this dimension that are self-explanatory. Using Hall’s thoughts and Hofstede’s terminology, we define people in collectivistic cultures as group-centered; they are concerned with the welfare of the group over its individuals because of the deep connections among the members. People in individualistic cultures are just the opposite. Comparatively speaking, individualists are concerned with their own welfare ahead of their group’s well-being, and have fewer deep connections to people. [paragraph 6]

Above I mentioned the observable similarities between the Nepalese and U.S. school structures. Now, I will look at observable cultural differences between the two, especially in regard to communication. First, note that my communication style with teachers and students was the product of conditioning in a low-context culture, the American culture. On the other hand, Nepalese culture is high-context, so much confusion arises when a Westerner asks direct, literal questions and expects to hear direct, literal answers. For example, as exam week approached, some teachers and I had a conversation at a local teahouse about "cheating." The Nepalese language does not have an equivalent word for cheating, but we all understood each other. At least, that is what I assumed. I told them I had heard that many students copy answers from others and do not do their own work. They smiled, and agreed. I asked them if they thought cheating on exams is a good thing or it is okay. Unanimously they answered negatively, and I was very relieved. Apparently, I thought, I was at a very good and very unusual school. [paragraph 7]

The very clear definition of cheating that existed in my mind, however, was not shared between us. Their definition was closer to the idea of stealing, which is considered a very serious offense. For a student to "steal" in an exam, she would have to actually give her exam to another student to complete. The teachers were not lying when they said that they did not like cheating, but I assumed that their message meant what mine meant: every kid must write their exam answers from memory and do so independently. In addition, had the teachers recognized that my idea of cheating was different from their own, they would not have corrected me in a public place. High-context communication is not direct or confrontational, and I should have recognized from their light-hearted response that we saw the issue differently (Hall, p. 111). Of course, when I saw those teachers in action, I was disappointed. I had expected them to be more noble and demanding of their students, but they seemed not to care when kids cheated. [paragraph 8]

Miscommunication also occurred regularly between my students and me before each and every exam. When I told students that I wanted them to do their own work and not to talk, I was being explicit and expected them to follow these rules. When they answered that they understood what I said, I believed that they were communicating their intent to follow these rules, a low-context interpretation. However, their affirmative response was an acknowledgment that they had heard what I said, not an agreement. They were already familiar with testing procedures and protocol from years of taking exams and knew what was expected of them. What I considered cheating, they knew, was allowed. My students had an entirely different understanding of the situation than I did, and their thoughts on the matter were implicit in their high-context response. In their opinion, I should have understood the situation better (Hall, p.112). [paragraph 9]

This miscommunication led to incredible frustration for me. Minutes after the students had "agreed" with my rules, they were breaking them over and over and were not at all sorry. I took their actions as insults. They were being openly disrespectful, and even my most industrious students — who I had grown close to — ignored my commands to stop. [paragraph 10]

This situation was also confusing because Nepalese people are very respectful of schools and teachers. The dominant religion in Nepal is Hinduism, and it defines much of their culture. Hinduism’s ancient respect for the Brahmin caste — whose members were traditionally the teachers and priests of the society — remains today and is enjoyed by all pedagogues, even though teachers nowadays come from every caste group. I also understood the importance of being indirect when sharing criticism or expressing bad feelings with someone in the Nepalese culture, so that no one would lose face. With these cultural gems in mind, I could not fathom why my students were being so openly disrespectful. [paragraph 11]

After exasperating hours of repeatedly telling the same kids not to copy answers or talk, my patience was spent and my novice cross-cultural skills were forgotten. The students recognized from my body language that something was very wrong, and at a time when their environment was stressful enough, I became the catalyst that dispelled any harmony and syncing that existed between us. Syncing is the subtle, synchronous link in body movements between people who are communicating (Hall, p. 71). When syncing is absent, this can be an unconscious source of tension for those communicating. Hall mentions that members of high-context cultures are especially aware of, and value, syncing (p. 74).  I am sure that this cross-cultural experience was as traumatic for the students as it was for me. I became a loud, angry, emotionally expressive tyrant who was trying desperately to control the behavior of over 50 fourteen year-old kids. Any understanding that my students might have had of me--their very foreign teacher--must have disappeared. [paragraph 12]

During the first week I monitored exams, the bonds I had developed with several students were strained to their limits, and some broke. This, in itself, hurt a great deal. Many, many cultural differences underlie the conflict here. In retrospect, what insight might have been useful in understanding myself and the Nepalese culture in this situational frame? If I could return to Nepal as a cross-cultural trainer for Western teachers, what would I have to say? [paragraph 13]

Latent Cultural Differences

Hall explains that humans have externalized the learning process and call it education (p. 28). This extension of the learning process allows us to talk about and share education with other people. Education is a symbol, then, that represents what we mean when we talk about learning. Often, however, the symbol is confused for the thing it symbolizes. This mistaken assignment of importance to the symbol, rather than the thing, is called extension transference (Hall, p. 28). The American and Nepalese people see the human extension of the learning process, education, very differently, and therefore value education differently. [paragraph 14]

In the United States, Hall says that education is mistakenly seen as a thing that schools possess and children need; schools have to put knowledge into students like pennies into piggy banks (p. 35). Rather than seeing education as a process, which involves observing, experiencing, analyzing, creating, we see it as a tangible object that schools  have the exclusive right to distribute to "consumers." For example, four years of college study is more widely recognized and valued than four years of apprenticeship. Schooling and school diplomas demonstrate mastery of knowledge, not experience. Where kids learn and the plain fact that they are learning are considered more important than what they learn. That is, knowledge is its own reward. Americans value those individuals who have taken ownership of more knowledge through more time in school; these individuals are believed to be empowered by having control of knowledge (Hall, p. 208). [paragraph 15]

The Nepalese people, on the other hand, do not see education or knowledge that way. Textbook knowledge is not as highly or widely revered as it is in the U.S. Therefore, most people do not see education as valuable in and of itself; instead they believe that it is a means to an end. Education is valuable because of the social status a person gains by reaching higher levels of study. Yes, the Nepalese recognize that students are meant to learn more at each level, so there is some appreciation of what a student "knows." More importantly, in Nepal’s hierarchical culture, education is a measure of social rank rather than knowledge. For example, a girl of the right caste, whose family has a good reputation and who has herself finished X years of schooling, may be a more attractive bride than a girl who has not been to school. Why is that so? Being educated is important not because the girl will become a good match for a boy intellectually, but because society — via the school — has recognized her and respects her. Those village girls who have completed some schooling will earn higher dowries for their families, too. A girl or a boy who is widely respected is widely sought after. [paragraph 16]

Despite these value differences, kids in both cultures are pressured early to do well in school. In the United States, kids are told that school is a tool for success. If kids do well, they can be anything that they want to be. Knowledge can take them to the top of their field. In this village in Nepal, neither career success nor getting to the top is the issue. Often Nepalese texts are inapplicable to village life, as mentioned earlier, and most children will grow up to be farmers, well outside the world of formal employment and advancement. Instead, kids are pressured to do well to earn status and to honor their families. Girls are expected to do well to earn greater dowries; boys are expected to do well to earn the family respect in the community. Also, recognition and respect earned through education do not operate in Nepal’s society as they do in the U.S.. In the labor market, Nepalese do not earn jobs because they are educationally qualified. Often in their collectivistic culture, finding employment is literally a matter of who you know, not what you know. The status imparted by education is minor in comparison to that indicator which has been an element of their society for thousands of years — namely, caste. [paragraph 17]

It is clear now that Nepalese view and value education very differently than Americans do. In Nepal, education is a means to attain status. While respected, it is only one predictor — tertiary to caste and wealth — of a person’s status in a community. In the U. S., educational attainment is the primary means to attain status. Education means knowledge and is arguably one of  the most significant predictor of social status and wealth. Therefore, it is more highly valued in the U.S. than in Nepal. In both countries, education the extension — leads to status. The differences lie in why and how it does so. Why are these differences important? They help us understand why families are sending their kids to school and where schoolwork ranks among their priorities. [paragraph 18]

A Deeper Understanding

How does this information enlighten my understanding of exam practices in Nepal? I saw knowledge as a "thing" that I had spent the semester investing in my students (Hall, p. 208). At exam time, I expected them to demonstrate their knowledge by putting it on paper. My understanding of the exam situation was based on my cultural background. In the U.S., students who really want to get ahead in life work independently, and even competitively, protecting their answers from others in their class (Hall, p. 209). I mentioned earlier that my instructions for the exam period were very low-context commands. Those commands were also based on the assumption that I understood what the kids wanted: they wanted me to create a fair environment where students who had knowledge would be recognized and those who did not have knowledge would not. After all, I really expected the better students to be upset that their classmates were "cheating." I felt that the students understood that knowledge is something you must earn. In my individualistic culture, competition allows us to set ourselves apart (Hall, p. 209). [paragraph 19]

What was the students’ understanding? They probably had no idea of the assumptions I was making. They did not see my warnings against cheating as a safeguard against someone stealing their hard-earned recognition. Status did not seem to be viewed as a finite good that students felt they needed to compete for; rather they seemed to feel that everyone who worked could enjoy the rewards (Hall, p. 231). Thus, they saw my commands as formality. The commands were mere procedures. During a school day, the average Nepalese teacher spends all of his or her class time lecturing to students —even to first graders — and expects them to sit quietly. Students respond in unison to the teacher’s rhetorical questions, usually in the affirmative.

Male teacher:  Nepal is a mountainous country in South Asia. Yes or no?
Students:         Yes, Sir.
Male teacher:  The world's highest peak, Mt. Everest, is in Nepal, isn't it?
Students:         Yes, Sir. [paragraph 20]

Similarly, the students’ response to my comments was an acknowledgement that they had heard me, but mostly a trained response. Communication between teachers and students is very limited, and kids learn to say, "Yes, Sir," regardless of their understanding of a statement or agreement with it, or disagreement with it. In a high-context culture, the students do not challenge or dispute a teacher’s point (Hall, p. 111). Questioning a point that a teacher has made is not seen as inquisitive; rather it is seen as confrontational. Questioning a teacher’s ideas publicly may be an even greater offense. If a teacher does not know the answer to a student’s question, she will probably scold the student for being sassy or asking dumb questions before she admits she does not know the answer. In the classroom, she is at the top of the social hierarchy. Admitting she cannot answer a child’s question, she would lose face in front of her class. Students do ask questions in school, of course, but there are many unwritten rules for when, where, and how it is appropriate to do so. it depends on the context. [paragraph 21]

After working with my students for months, I believe they had some idea of how I was different from their other teachers. Be it good or bad, they recognized that I was willing to admit that I did not have all the answers to their questions, but I encouraged their questions nonetheless. This must have been difficult for them. If they asked something that I could not answer, surely, they thought, I would lose face. If they had any respect for me, they felt they should never place me in an uncomfortable or humbling situation. Some students eventually adapted to my more direct, explicit style of communication, but most kids remained quiet and unquestioning. When I explicitly explained the exam instructions during our first mid-term exams then, I suspect that some of them had an idea of the conflict about to take place. [paragraph 22]

Clearly, the students did not understand what I was trying to communicate about fairness and competition. How did they see the exam? To understand them, consider their relationships. Children in a collectivistic society do almost everything with a friend. Outside of school, they work in the fields and play together, along side their parents and their parents’ friends. The adults solve problems together, live with extended family and friends, and lean heavily on each other when in need (Hall, p. 127). Kids learn to do the same. As the term collectivism suggests, the group is the primary unit of society. This dimension of Nepalese culture does not mesh well with the structure of their imported school system that is designed to measure the performance of a different unit: the individual. [paragraph 23]

This in mind, it is easy to understand why even the brightest students in my class were talking during the exam and sharing answers with their friends. They were expected to help and probably wanted to do so. This deep cultural value of cooperation overrode any respect they may have wanted to pay me by following my instructions. Their friends needed to do well on the exam so that everyone could pass the class. [paragraph 24]

Parents were not fooling themselves into believing that all their children were rocket scientists. Passing a grade was not just about intelligence. As the Nepalese parents saw it, those kids had spent day after day in that classroom when they could have been out in the field helping their families with the crops. All that invested time deserved some return; reciprocity was due. Even if kids had not learned the definitions of watt and volt, they deserved some recognition for attending school. [paragraph 25]

Students simply wanted recognition for their effort, and suddenly I had become a cruel teacher who wanted to deny it from them. All semester I had encouraged them to work hard, work together and ask questions, suggesting I was part of their in-group. During the exams, my behavior became more dictatorial and more like an outsider. I wanted order and silence, and I helped no one with the test. I was upset with what I felt was direct insults: cheat sheets, whispers, and copied answers. Unintentionally, I reverted back to my low-context behavioral patterns, too. My facial expressions and body language openly displayed my discontent, uncouth in a high-context culture, and in response my students glared back at me with angry, confused, and disgusted faces (Hall, p. 161). [paragraph 26]

After a few days of exams, I had become so frustrated with the situation that I had forgotten about what I was supposed to be testing learning and instead became obsessed with the rules and by-laws surrounding its extension. I felt that even if every kid failed the exam, at least they and I could honor the institution of education by following its rules. Of course, I did not recognize this obsession at the time. I told my co-workers that I was frustrated and that I felt many teachers were not taking teaching seriously. They agreed and empathized. They did not offer similar stories of frustration or feelings of disappointment, but they did listen without judgment. As collectivists, they were concerned with my well-being, not with the issues I was discussing (Hall, p. 127). As high context communicators, whether they agreed with me or not was secondary to how I was feeling and what they thought they could do to re-establish harmony in the staff and school environment. [paragraph 27]

As time passed, the cultural trauma that surrounded the exams also passed. A few teachers said that they saw some logic in my arguments about exam procedures, and how these should fit within their school system. They saw that their understanding of their imported educational system needed to change someday if the schools were to work as they were designed to. But, those changes are not as urgent as many outsiders to Nepal might think.  In Nepal’s larger towns and cities the educational culture is becoming more and more similar to the West, for better or worse, and some schools there have produced world-class intellectuals. Largely, however, shaping the culture to fit the school system is not feasible or even desired. Teaching and examination methods would be more easily adapted to fit the culture. Or, as Hall might suggest, perhaps the Western system should be replaced altogether (Hall, p. 210). [paragraph 28]

In writing this paper I have made generalizations about two cultures based on my experiences in them. However, populations are not uniform and cultures are not static in both countries. Nonetheless, these generalizations are useful. Western and Nepalese cultures view the extension of education differently. This simple fact is often overlooked because the cultures communicate so differently about the subject. Understanding the differences in how each culture views education and how each culture communicates may help reduce the confusion that arises when Western teachers must deal with "cheating" students. Equipped with some cultural insight on such situations, Western teachers may better understand themselves and the Nepalese and continue to transcend their own ethnocentrism. [paragraph 29]

References

Hall, E. T. (1976). Beyond Culture. Garden City, NY: Anchor Books/Doubleday.

Hofstede, G. (1984). Culture’s Consequences: International Differences in Work-related Values. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage Publications.

Chadwick Fleck served as a science teacher and teacher trainer in Nepal for two years with the Peace Corps. He currently works with an adult education program, Quality Education for Minorities (QEM) Network, in Washington, DC.

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