I'm not a missionary, or a college-instructor, and I didn't even stay at Holiday Inn Express, but . . .

I read an article a while back about "Urban Farming."  The author was very much in favor of city-dwellers growing their own tomatoes and peppers.  What she wasn't in favor of is these folk who have a few pots, and/raised beds of vegetable plants calling themselves "Farmers."  They aren't, and to claim the title is an insult to the real thing.
The above comparison is similar to my current situation.  I am teaching a college class in a missionary setting.  I don't want to diminish the role of either Missionaries, or Teachers, by laying claim to either title, missionary or college-instructor.
Having said that, the guy with a tomato-patch on the roof of a Manhattan high-rise, comes closer to understanding farming--perhaps far closer--than the typical urbanite who has never seen a tomato actually hanging on a growing vine.  So with that caveat out of the way, I'll make some observations.
Missionary work is all about crossing from one culture to another.  There are eight students in my class.  For seven of them English is a second language.  I count up, at least, five different first-languages in the class--maybe six when you consider that one for whom English is a first-language is from Kentucky.  Some of the students have never seen snow.  Some have never been to a place where the speed limit is more than 35 mph.  For most Spam is not from the internet; it is a staple in their diet.   The family structures some of the students grew up in are strange to me, as, I'm sure, mine is to them.  I'm the only "white" person in the room.  For most of the class "Medicare" is for "those old people."  I am one of those oldsters.  I find myself constantly asking myself, sometimes asking the class, "Does this word, concept, scenario, make sense to you?"  It works both ways, some of the images they draw on when they speak don't make sense to me.  It is work.  Real missionaries have to make far wider, more difficult cultural crossings with far less assistance than I am receiving.

Teaching, in whatever cultural setting, is likewise about crossing barriers.  The difference between just standing in front of people and talking--or showing PowerPoint, or giving quizzes, or leading discussions or any of the other didactic methods we may employ--and actually teaching can be determined by asking this question:

"Has anyone actually learned?"

Added to that needs to be this commentary on learning:

 "The best indicator that something has been learned is the resultant life-change."

  In some cases I am like a translator.  We are using a couple of textbooks in the class I am teaching.  I mostly understand what the textbooks are saying; the students, not so much.  We don't have time, or in my case the mental ability, to memorize the texts, and even if we did, that wouldn't mean we had learned the material, so I have to decide what in the texts is most important in the situation in which we find ourselves and then translate that knowledge into a form that can be taken in by the students in the class.  In other cases--not that often, the head of the department will be glad to know--I take things straight from what I know and seek to package it so it is comprehensible and consumable by the students on the other side of the culture/generational/knowledge barrier.  It's work.

I'm very much aware that if the students in my class don't do well on an exam, they might not be the ones who have failed.

If we take the later portion of the Great Commission, "Teaching them to observe all things, whatsoever I have commanded you." that is where the intersection of the two roles that I'm sorta-kinda filling right now intersect.  I'm not a teacher, and I'm not a missionary--keep in mind the caveat at the beginning of this post--but in a roof-top garden sort of way, I am privileged to be teaching students who will take what they are learning and use it a place where the light is a good bit dimmer than where I have lived for most of my life, and while that sure is work, it's an awful lot of fun.

This isn't the class I'm teaching.  Kathy and I
invited a group of students over to talk about
some stuff from God's word, that young adults 

need to know.  

We had a good time.