From the Field

Nanubhai's Co-Teachers Certificate Ceremony

2011-02-27T11:39:00.000-08:00

On Sunday, February 27th 2011, the first group of Nanubhai Education Foundation co-teachers, Sameer, Yogesh, and Amita, were awarded certificates recognizing the truly notable work they've accomplished throughout this year. Sitting around the conference room table of the school's board room, the fellows and co-teachers took turns commenting all aspects of our experience this year, ranging from gratitude towards their working partners to ways in which the experience of teaching under the Nanubhai model had grown them.

As Zach very aptly noted during the ceremony, the certificates do more than simply recognize the work of the co-teachers for this one, isolated year. In reality, in the same way that they carry their certificates out with them through the door and into their hometowns, they carry with them a year's worth of experience teaching in a model that emphasizes the introduction of change in an educational system where change is in dire need. These teachers are now agents of change in the schools, and with Amita working closely with the Foundation in the upcoming year, Nanubhai's co-teacher model is inevitably going to witness a multiplicative effect.

I think that our certificate ceremony, albeit small and somewhat informal, gave us all a glimpse into what the future may hold for this Foundation. What counts is not a perfect model or a sales pitch. What lies at the core of the work that this Foundation does is the energy and dedicated passion of the local co-teachers, willing to step outside of their comfort zones and devote themselves to constant improvement. We communicated to our co-teachers during the ceremony that although they will likely never see or talk with many of the Nanubhai staff and volunteers in the United States, their efforts do not go by unnoticed.

Congratulations to our great co-teachers for their incredible work and dedication!

An Evening with the Bookoholics

2010-10-30T09:54:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday, I was given the honor of ringing in the inaugural meeting of Surat's start-up venture, Bookoholics.com.

Something like the Netflix of books, Bookoholics.com is an emerging book rental company that loans out books on demand via postal service for a nominal monthly subscription fee. In a relatively short time, they've amassed a catalogue of more than fourteen hundred titles solely through book donations. To my thinking, this low-cost and potentially high-impact model is a prime example of the commodity of innovation, which has in recent years torn the economic spotlight away from India's established manufacturing powerhouse.

That such a venture should start up in Surat of all places bodes well for a city which is here often viewed in the same prism we Americans (perhaps only somewhat unfairly) pigeonhole New Jersey - that is, a land better suited for churning out producers than poets; where the only parks are industrial; a place where the romance of India's timelessness goes up on trial in sweat shops and commercial retail outlets.

Meetings like the one Bookoholics.com sponsors aren't just a place for idle gabbing; they're creating a free, public space for people to come together for the purpose of doing something (anything!) besides merely spending money. That, I believe, is a wonderful thing which is too often forgotten in the din of development.

Spearheaded by Mr. Rahul Kedia, Bookoholics.com is a refreshing idea whose value-added isn't just a culture of literacy, but a literacy of culture.

You can find out more about the Bookoholics by visiting their website, www.bookoholics.com.

A video of my speech may be found by clicking here.

The Life of a Student in Rural India

2010-10-12T01:14:00.000-07:00

At Madhi High School, we are officially three weeks into the second term of the school year. In fact, I am almost half way through this term’s materials as we are moving at a steady pace. Classes are going well for me and my co-teacher Ameeta. We have found our rhythm and are working well together to teach our students English.

While my academic classes have been going well, lately my Spoken English class attendance has been at an all time low. On most days I only have a handful of students. I have talked to the students, the other English teachers and even the principal and they have all told me that this is normal. Students are tired at the beginning of their second term. They will be more focused after Diwali break in November. The students at Madhi High School finished their first term examinations on September 23^rd. Their examinations lasted ten days- each day they would write one exam in the morning and another in the afternoon. On September 24^th, the second term officially began. Less than one day after they completed their exams, they returned to school and to their regular classes. No wonder they are exhausted!

The lack of attendance for Spoken English classes left me frustrated. I was arriving at school every day, an hour early, ready to teach my students and they were not showing up. I had excellent attendance last term and was so disappointed at how drastically the situation changed. However, the other day, I had a realization. These students work so incredibly hard. How can I be upset that they need a short break from Spoken English?

The typical schedule for an average secondary school student is as follows:

6: 00 am: Wake up and get dressed

6:30am/7:00 am: Go to tuition classes

9:00 am: Finish tuition classes and return home for breakfast

10:00 am: Arrive at school

10: 30 am: School begins. Classes start at 11 and go until 4:50 pm

5:00 pm: Go to tuition classes

7:30 pm: Finish tuition classes

8:00 pm: Eat dinner

8:30 pm: Study or do housework

11:00 pm: Bed time

Tuition classes are extra classes or tutoring sessions offered by teachers before and after school. Usually there are ten to fifteen students who go to a teachers’ house for supplemental lessons in several subjects. At Madhi, like many other government schools, there are no clubs. There are sports teams but students do not regularly practice. Sometimes they get in a few minutes of cricket during recess or kick the soccer ball around for a while. They have no fun extra-curricular activities to participate in. Their lives revolve around school and there is much pressure on them to succeed. Of course there are the students who do not work hard, just as there are in every school around the world. But most students work tirelessly to pass their classes in hope for a better a better future. They do not get a break after exams end. They have one long break in November, for Diwali and another break at the end of the year, but no long summers off like we have in the States. No summer camp or Little League. What’s more, they go to school six days a week. Monday through Friday they have full days and on Saturdays they start school at 8:00 am and finish at 11:30 am. Then, they have more tuition classes. Can you imagine?

When I taught in a rural village in Malawi for two and a half years, I noticed a similar situation. Actually, it may have been worse. I taught at a boarding school and in general, my students slept for 2-4 hours a night. They studied late into the night every night. Their weekends were filled with study halls and they were only allowed to leave campus one Saturday each month. They did have extra-curricular activities but most clubs were for additional academic support, like Maths Club, Science Club, Writer’s Club, etc. Still more, these students worked literally around the clock to succeed in high school in order to be eligible for university.

The education systems in developing countries are weak. There are insufficient and poorly trained teachers, limited resources and a lack of schools and universities. In both of my experiences, the students work so hard because there are fewer spots in college than there are students. They study endlessly, hoping to make it to college and get a decent job that can support their family. In both India and Malawi, there is a strong family bond and even when a child is grown, marries and has children of his own, he is still responsible for supporting his parents and other siblings. Thus, there is a great demand on these students to succeed in school. I am not sure about you, but I cannot imagine taking on the rigorous schedule these students face daily. I think I will cut my Spoken English students a little slack.

India's Gender Justice Gap, Part II

2010-09-30T09:53:00.000-07:00

Greeetings all!

After some much-needed R&R in Rajasthan, it's back to business as usual here in Kadod. I last left you with what, for me, was a thought provoking article about the so-called 'Gulabi gang' of female vigilantes who are literally tackling India's timeless patriarchy head-on, one flogging at a time. Writing for Slate magazine, Ms. Amana Fontanella Khan queries, (almost rhetorically, I might add):

"Why aren't they turning to political activism as opposed to vigilantism?"

At least one explanation is intuitive enough: The Gulabis are symptomatic of a larger pattern in India's State-society relations in which the contemporary State has a nearly-uncontested grip on political authority while, at the same time, a great deal of society (especially disenfranchised groups) is pessimistic regarding politicians' capacities to effectively govern - to say nothing of nearly ubiquitous doubts over the veracity of leaders' commitments to legitimacy.

Naturally, periodic features of the news cycle send moonlight politicos into fits of jingoistic saber-rattling and partisan flag-waving. Today, for example, the verdict to a centuries-old-dispute between Hindus and Muslims was conclusively adjudicated by India's Supreme Court. Electricity grids and cell-towers were down throughout our (majority Muslim) district for the better part of the day. (Tangentially, some have speculated that this was a ploy to disrupt communications-technologies which would have been critical for organizing an impromptu riot-turned-bloodbath, of which nearby Surat has painfully recent memories). At any rate, so far as I know, all's quiet on India's western front. Still, party leaderships were quick to chime in on the ruling and what has for centuries been a matter of faith and decades a matter of litigation, finally died a matter of party politics in the course of a few hours.

But back to the issue of gender justice, why indeed do the Gulabis lack a legitimate political parallel? To my thinking, it's because, like many Indians, they tend to see the politics of the State as an obstacle to (not a source of) social progress. Their very existence is proof enough that the India's legal system of protecting equality-between-genders (or lack thereof) is fundamentally broken. Noting that, the Gulabi movement is expressly invested in compensating for, rather than fixing that system. While state leaders use party lines to dither about oughts, Gulabi women use their homemade cudgels to point to what is. But are they a reasonable, or even sustainable vision of what could be?

I don't think so, but absent a legitimate (preferably nonviolent) alternative to improving what is now a decidedly bleak outlook shared by most of India's nearly-60,000,000 women, one can only fault the Gulabis to the extent that s/he believes that justice only trickles down from the Law, rather than surging up from the people who follow it.

It can be difficult to imagine for those of us who hail from a government which self-consciously purports to be "of the people, for the people, and by the people;" but at least here in rural India, there's enough of a vacuum between the government and the people that groups like the Gulabis have more than enough room to do something like lynch a rapist without legal consequences. This same political vacuum exists in India's neighbor to the west - to the effect that Taliban and al-Qaeda cells have established a virtually impregnable outpost in South Asia. So, given the dramatic contrast of terrorist training camps in the Federally Administered Tribal Areas, shouldn't we be relieved that India's legitimation crisis has taken the form of women banding together in the face of a cruel and oppressive patriarchy?

Maybe so.

When it comes to women's issues, the Indian State is a broken record (and to their credit, these Gulabis are doing one hell of a job to put a spin on "revolutions per minute"). They're bold beyond convention and assertive to the point of violence. They are, in the truest sense, radicals. Historically, they remind me less of early 20th century America's legions of flappers and feminists as they do later 20th century America's radicalized civil rights activists. Lamentably, it took more than their tragic assassinations to clear (or at least mildly polish) in America's history books the names of Malcolm X and Huey P. Newton. In spite of that - perhaps in part because I'm writing to you on the last day of September, a month as auspicious for American social justice in 1862 as it was in 1957 - it is my suspicion that more traditionally celebrated and relatively moderate agents of change (most notably Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.) may not have been given their national platforms but for the much less palatable picture of radical alternatives cropping up in mainstream America's headlines.

Whether we like it or not, the attention it's garnering from the international media is itself a testament to the hypothesis of the Gulabi experiment: that when the oppressed contend with their oppressor, a sharp blow from a bamboo stick may now and again leave a deeper impression than a manifesto of words.

Unfortunately for those of us who hold stock in Mahatma Gandhi's cautionary truism that, "An eye-for-an-eye leaves the whole world blind," Indian political leaders have yet to give meaningful evidence of both the depth-of-insight and range-of-foresight necessary to (legally) close India's gender justice gap.

Very Near, Not Very Far

2010-09-25T07:03:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday evening, I returned from my first adventure in India. While the students at Madhi High School wrote their first term examinations, I travelled through four states in India for twelve days, exploring cities and ancient architectural wonders, meeting people from all over the world and of course relaxing over ice cold beer.

Party in Bombay

My trip began on Friday September 10^th. I decided to commence my tour of Western India in Bombay (Mumbai) for the weekend because my friend Carrie was returning to St. Louis permanently and I wanted to wish her farewell. After another action movie scene of running after the moving train (sadly, this is becoming normal for me), four hours later I arrived in sunny Bombay. I hadn’t seen the sun in a couple months so I was ecstatic! That night, Carrie’s friends threw her a huge farewell party. Over fifty people showed up- many other Americans who live and work in Bombay as well as all of her Indian friends. After an hour or so, the party was dying because someone was playing soft rock music. We were talking about playing more party-friendly music, but no one knew how to work the sound system, so I went for it. As some of you might know, I have some experience as a DJ, so one thing led to another and I became the official DJ of the night. It turned into an awesome party and finally started dying down at 5:00 AM. I had an awesome time DJing and everyone seemed to like my music selections. Anytime someone had a request, they approached me and asked, “Miss DJ Emily, can you please play....” It was quite a fantastic night!

Spinning cotton at Gandhi's house

After a relaxing weekend hanging out in Bombay, late Sunday afternoon I hopped on a train to Ahmedabad, the capital of Gujarat, not far from the state of Rajasthan, my destination. I arrived in Ahmedabad at midnight and the city was wide awake, celebrating another festival, Ganesh. I definitely should have booked a hotel, but the procrastinator and poor planner that I am thought I could find something when I got there. Thankfully, my rickshaw driver spoke English and drove me all over the city until I found an available room at Safar Inn. (A note about rickshaw drivers in India- their favourite phrase is “Very Near, Not Very Far” when you ask for directions anywhere). The manager, Francis, is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. He is Indo-Portuguese and has been to over one hundred countries around the world. He and his wife own a medical tourism business and travel frequently to promote their work. He was so happy to talk to a foreigner and we actually spent most of the day talking about our experiences in Africa while he gave me a personal tour of the city on the back of his motorcycle.

Francis took me to Gandhi’s house where I learned to spin cotton just as Gandhi did every day. We also went to the best ice cream parlour for mango lassis, to a famous textile museum, and a night market where I shopped for beautiful and colourful Gujarati fabric. We finished our evening with a delicious dinner from McDonald’s. I look forward to going back to Ahmedabad again and spending more time with Francis and his family.

Udaipur

The next day, I arrived in the lake city of Udaipur in Rajasthan. Immediately, I knew I was in paradise. This small, quiet European-like city surrounds a large lake. The weather was excellent and in no time I fried in the sun that I hadn’t seen in so long. I spent my time exploring the ancient lakeside palaces where famous Indian kings had once lived. I even took a boat to the palace located in the centre of the lake. Udaipur is unique because every building has a rooftop restaurant and bar overlooking the city and the lake. I spent each night leisurely enjoying Rajasthani thali (small samples of several kinds of food) and sipping ice cold Kingfisher beers with other travellers from all over the world. One night, Zach met me in Udaipur and we had dinner with an older British couple who is driving around the world. Norman and Barbara spent 25 years working six days a week at a convenience store to save up for a trip around the world in their Land Rover. They had arrived from the Middle East and Iran was actually their favourite country they’d visited thus far. A year earlier, Barbara was diagnosed with Huntington’s Disease and they decided to speed up the trip so she could enjoy it before her disease progressed. They were fascinating to talk to and had so many great experiences and words of wisdom to share. Another day, I spent the whole afternoon walking around the city with Joe, a graduate of a school, just outside my hometown, St. Louis. We took an electric cable car to the top of a mountain that overlooks the whole city. At the top, we talked about the Cardinals and St. Louis, as well as our travels, while drinking ice cold beers. It was a great afternoon.

Wearing a snake

Snake charming

After a few days on the lake, I hopped on an overnight bus to Jaipur, the pink city and capital of Rajasthan. Eric met me here and together we walked around the city where all buildings are a light shade of pink. We explored ancient forts and climbed to the tops of mountains all over the city. At Amber Fort, we met a group of snake charmers (snake charming was outlawed several years ago) and learned how to play the wooden instrument that makes snakes rise up from their sleep. The charmers then wrapped the black python around my neck which was an incredibly strange feeling. At Sun Temple, nicknamed Monkey Temple, hundreds of monkeys roam the hills. Here, we fed them peanuts which they took straight out of our palms. We witnessed a macho monkey grab a dog and continue to punch it until it limped away. We also spent a good half our throwing peanuts high into the air, making the monkeys jump for them so we could try to get a mid-air shot with our cameras. Unfortunately, the city of Jaipur was slightly overcrowded and much polluted. People all over the city try to take advantage of tourists and we had our fair share of run-ins with scam artists. Nonetheless, we enjoyed everything we saw and still managed to have a great time.

Monkey training

At night, in Jaipur, we ate delicious tandoori chicken at rooftop restaurants. One night we ate with a couple, Holly and Adam, from London. After dinner, they taught us some famous British drinking games and we continued on to a few more pubs. After two days in Jaipur, we’d felt we seen it all, so we impulsively decided to hitch a five-hour ride to Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. What can I say? The Taj Mahal is just as magnificent as you imagine it to be. This massive monument is positively stunning and I could just stare at it for hours. I would like to go back in the future because you are supposed to go at sunrise and unfortunately it was pouring when Eric and I visited and our visit was slightly tainted.

The Taj Mahal and I

Royal Rambagh Palace courtyard

We returned to Jaipur for one more day before the long journey back to our village. On our last day in Jaipur, we hung out with a couple from the Vermont, Julia and Tom, who are also travelling around the world. We found out that the best hotel in the world is in Jaipur, so we made reservations for high tea at the Royal Rambagh Palace, once home to a king but was converted to a hotel in 1950. It was exquisite as we snacked on scones and tasty pastries while sipping the “champagne of tea”. I then pretended that I was touring hotels to find one suitable for my parents and we asked to see a room. The cheapest room runs $2000 a night, in case you’re planning a visit!

Late Monday night, we ended our journey as we boarded our night train back home. All in all, I had a great time and enjoyed travelling by myself much more than I expected. I met so many interesting people and saw a much different side of India than I experience in the village. Fourteen noisy and uncomfortable hours later, we arrived home in the village. While we were gone, the monsoon ended and now it’s scorching hot and sunny once again. I knew I was back in the village when I walked into my house and went to my cupboard and found a rat inside. While I was away, a rat managed to break into my cupboard and ate my year’s supply of DayQuil and NyQuil, of all things. There is one very medicated rat somewhere in my house right now. I think I’m ready for another vacation.

Happy Ganesh Chaturthi!

2010-09-22T08:11:00.001-07:00

Ganesh Chaturthi is a 10-day long festival honoring Ganesh, the Hindu god associated with wealth, success, and the removal of obstacles. In the weeks leading up to the festival, idols of Ganesh are constructed all over India, some as small as an inch tall and others as tall as 25 feet! The celebration of Ganesh Chaturthi ends on the 10th day when the idols of Ganesh are taken to be submerged in bodies of water, symbolizing a sending off of Ganesh to his home in Kailash while also taking with him the misfortunes of his worshipers.

I came back to Kadod just in time for the last day of the festival, otherwise known as Ganesh Visarjan. In Kadod, there's a road that stretches down to the bank of the Tapi River, making this town the most convenient place for Ganesh Visarjan to take place within a 10km radius. From noon until 7:30pm today, more than 60 Ganesh idols were brought in on ornately decorated carts pulled by tractors and vans. With each procession, the devotees of that particular idol would dance to music booming from loudspeakers, throwing handfuls of pink-colored powder at each other and at bystanders, like me.

When I was asked several times by friends and familiar students to dance with them and play dodgeball with globs of colored powder, I felt so relieved to be back in Kadod where, unlike cities like Jaipur, I feel people make genuine efforts to make me feel like a part of their community. I was happy today being able to comfortably call Kadod my home away from home.

Happy Ramzan Eid!

2010-09-11T03:25:00.000-07:00

Weeks earlier, one of my Spoken English students, Rizwan, invited Zach and myself to celebrate Ramzan Ei (also known as Eid ul-Fitr) with his family. Ramzan Eid marks the end of the Muslim holy month of Ramadan during which Muslims fast from sun up until sun down every day.

Traditionally, it is forbidden to fast on this day, so the day began with Zach, myself, and Rizwan's family sharing a small breakfast. We showered compliment after compliment on Rizwan for his enthusiasm in Spoken English, but his parents still told us that if he ever acts up during class, we shouldn't hesitate to do what we have to put him back in line. We didn't ask them to clarify.

At 1pm, I returned to Rizwan's house to have lunch, which was chicken biriyiani, assorted vegetables and popper (fried, fluffy, corn chips kind of dish). I arrived at 1, as I was told to do, but the rest of the family had already eaten right before I got to the house. I was really confused why I was the only one with a plate while the rest of them were just watching me. I begged them to at least a little with me, but I think they preferred and actually enjoyed just watching me eat.

After lunch, Rizwan's father drove me to the cosway (bridge) which had been underwater for the past few weeks due to the monsoon's. Just this morning, the waters had receded enough to let bikes and cars drive through. We spent at least half an hour walking through the water coming up to our ankles talking about the village, his career as a bus driver, and Rizwan's future. Although I have a long long way to go before I feel comfortable with my Hindi, I was so happy that I had this conversation with him and was able to spend time like this with someone in the village.

India's Gender Justice Gap

2010-09-05T09:27:00.000-07:00

As I sit down to comment on the state of women in India, I'll be the first to admit to a fair deal of self-consciousness. I really can't help but be deeply aware that I have a certain perspective which might well be likened to a pair of tinted spectacles. The lenses that color my world with its particular hues are principally informed by (among many cross-cutting identities) my gender, ethnicity and cultural background (white American male). Nevertheless, it is the world and not the lens which I look at on a daily basis. So, after several months of looking, it's time for me to speak.

Kadod, I'm sorry to say, is a working model of much of what's terribly wrong with the situation that most Indian women are subject to. Daily, I meet and work alongside women who are nightly beaten by their husbands. Even though I was born and raised in a society that vehemently disdains domestic violence against women, I am crushed less by moral disgust than by my sheer powerlessness to help these women help themselves. There are no women's shelters here. In fact, so far as I can tell, there doesn't seem to be any kind of support network in place for abused women living outside the city. Here, even a battered woman's place is in her home, so friends are hardly in a position to offer her a safe place lest they imperil themselves or their families. This is to say nothing of law enforcement agencies (dominated, incidentally, by men) who tend to shrug off domestic abuse as a fact of nature.

I don't want to mislead you. I've met plenty of men and women here who don't appear to be living in physically violent or otherwise hostile domestic situations. In fact, I would go so far as to say that for a large majority of people I've met here. But the prevailing attitude here in the village is that what goes on in other people's homes is other people's business. When good people do nothing in the face of injustice, silence becomes consent.

Grim as the situation painted above must seem, it's hardly aberrant. From what I can gather, it's much the same in any of India's rural villages (which house more than 80% of her 1.2 billion people). According to present projections from the United Nations, 2 in 3 married Indian women are abused by their husbands. That means that there are roughly 100 million more battered wives in India than there are people in the United States. It ought to go without mentioning, but especially for a country widely presumed to lead the world's power politics over the course of the next century, that's a jarring -- and shameful -- figure.

Recently, Slate magazine ran an interesting piece about the Gulabi movement: a gang of female vigilantes out to avenge women who are beaten by their husbands. I think their story raises some fascinating issues concerning the roles of state and society in India; invokes larger dilemmas of means versus ends; and ultimately, points to the the challenge of figuring out how we can eliminate the worst injustices suffered by some of the most disenfranchised human beings on the planet. I invite you to read that article by following the link below. I'm going to get to work putting together some of my own thoughts about the Gulabis for my next post. In the meantime, I'd welcome any and all of your comments and ideas.

http://www.slate.com/id/2260797/pagenum/all/#p2

How To: Make Lemon Juice

2010-09-05T01:43:00.000-07:00

Last week, in Spoken English class, I taught my students the Imperative tense. Go to sleep, brush your teeth, do you homework and so on. Then, I had them write a short list of the directions and commands their parents give them on a daily basis. I got a wide variety of responses- Stop hitting your sister! Eat your roti (bread)! Turn down the T.V.! To assess their understanding of the lesson, I concluded with a homework assignment. They were instructed to write a "How to" on a certain task- a recipe, how to make something or how to do something.

The following morning, my students arrived for class, eager to share their homework. One student wrote instructions on how to make a paper boat. Another students explained how to make the famous local sandwiches here. Below are instructions on how to make lemon juice. Dhaval, one of my most hard-working students gave detailed directions on how to make this popular local beverage. While he suggests serving it cold, it can also be served hot, to sooth a scratchy throat or assuage a cough. Enjoy the recipe!

Happy Krishna Janmashtami!

2010-09-02T21:28:00.000-07:00

Today, Hindus around the world celebrated Krishna Janmashtami, a festival commemorating the birth of the god, Krishna. Thanks to Hiren Patel's enormous generosity, I was able to witness parts of the celebration in his community and with his family. All over Kadod, families and friends gathered in houses and temples lifting up prayers and offerings to the baby Lord Krishna. As I took time to soak it all in during the night, I came to really appreciate the intrinsic value of being a member of such a small, close-knit community. It's something that I and many others miss out on in the states, being able to see your neighbors as friends and even family.

According to Hiren, in years past, communities in Kadod would begin celebrating Janmashtami and have songs and prayers occurring 24 hours a day for 8 consecutive days. That practice has been left to tradition, but members of the Hindu community here will still pray and sing several hours a day during this time of celebration. Thank you again, Hiren!

It’s a Bizarre Bazaar Life

2010-08-30T00:40:00.000-07:00

Since Priya and I moved into our house in the middle of the main bazaar road, I have had the opportunity to truly experience the village life. Sometimes it can be extremely noisy as the cars and chakras zoom by, honking incessantly and the cows and other assortment of animals moo, bark and howl, attempting to relax on our front porch. Other times, I’ll be sitting on our front porch, trying to catch a breeze and countless people walk by, slowly, staring at me the whole way as if I were sitting on a parade float, instead of a porch. While I could do without these experiences, I have come to appreciate my bizarre bazaar life. We have incredibly friendly, helpful neighbours. For instance, in our first week here we had countless problems, such as power outages, a leaky stove, and lack of the necessary kitchen utensils, but our neighbours always came to the rescue. They bring us snacks, invite us over to watch T.V. and lend us anything we ever need. Our flat neighbours even loaned us a swing for our front porch! And they gave me an incredible gift, a mosquito zapper which looks like a badminton racket. And they can also really come through when you find yourself in a difficult situation.

On Friday, I travelled to Surat, the city about two hours away by bus. The U.S. Consulate decided to come to Gujarat for one day, so I took this opportunity to travel the short distance to add additional pages to my full passport. As with most tasks in India, it took the full day to find the Consulate, request pages, go to the bank and get a draft for the correct amount, and fill out the necessary paper work. At last, at 6:00pm, I headed to the bus station to travel home. I waited and waited but the bus never came. An hour later, I spotted Vikrambhai, the peon at Kadod High School and we waited together for the Kadod bus. Finally, a bus arrived, over an hour and a half late and by this time quite a crowd formed. We ran to hop on the bus, pushing our way through a mob. Somehow, in the midst of the madness, someone had opened my purse and stole my wallet. When we got on the bus, I realized this and the people sitting near me tried to assist. My wallet contained my cell phone, about Rs.2000 ($40), my American debit card and a USB drive. We searched and asked around but to no avail. It was gone. Thankfully, my passport was in the safe hand of the U.S. Consulate or this situation could have been greatly exacerbated. Vikrambhai graciously offered to pay for my bus fare and stood near me the whole overcrowded ride home.

As we reached Kadod, I suddenly became aware of the fact that within minutes everyone in the village would find out what happened. That is another bonus or disadvantage, depending on how you look at it, of living in a small neighbourhood- everyone knows everyone else’s business. I was already quite embarrassed and worried they would lecture me so this was the last thing I was ready to deal with. I wanted to go home, cancel my credit card and climb into bed after a long day. Vikrambhai walked me home and continued onto the school, which was close to where he lived. While I was rehashing the store to Priya, she received a call from Amrithbhai, our neighbour who works at the phone booth. He called to make sure I was okay and offered to report my stolen phone. Seconds later, Principal Mahida called to make sure I hadn’t lost my passport and to see if I needed anything. Another five minutes later a couple of other neighbours came over to make sure everything was alright. No one lectured me; they were merely concerned about what I had lost. Throughout the weekend, I was randomly checked on. And while I feared the attention I would receive for my unpleasant story, I am so grateful for the comfort and concern of my bazaar friends and neighbours. And living in a foreign country on the other side of the world, it is vital to have people I can count on in any situation.

We're Getting There

2010-08-29T22:39:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, Yogeshbhai, my co-teacher, and I made an agreement that if I taught him how to speak English more fluently/accurately, he would teach me Hindi. At the get-go, we had a pretty hard time communicating with each other. For example, I'd say something like, "We should think about how we can get the students more interested in their English lessons." He would stare at me for a couple of seconds then turn back to his work hoping that whatever I just said didn't need a response.

Since then, we've taken huge leaps in our ability to communicate with each other. We plan class lesson plans together and talk about what works and what doesn't. But there's still more work to be done. We had this conversation a few days ago:

Me: What exactly do people mean when they say Muhje samaj pari?
Yogesh: (says something that I just could not understand) Do you understand?
Me: ... No.
Yogesh: I know. (laughs and puts up his hand for a high-five)

Teaching Broken English is Broken English Teaching

2010-08-27T02:17:00.000-07:00

For the students of Kadod High School, "essay-writing" does not mean the opportunity to exercise reason, give thoughts expression or otherwise practice the craft of writing. Rather, the teacher hand-copies a passage selected from the "Book of Essays," a slim volume with various editions prepared for each of the secondary grade levels (all are penned and approved by Gujurat's Board of Education). Meanwhile, students copy the passage verbatim into their notebooks. These notebooks are then given to the teacher, who is expected to grade her students solely on the merit of their ability to duplicate.

For a teacher, relegating students' powers of expression to pre-packaged uniformity is (at least, if I am any juge, it certainly ought to be) a pedagogical sin. More than a century has passed since Oscar Wilde wrote in his celebrated De Profundis,

"Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation."

Putting aside the irony of my own present reliance on "someone else's opinions," I can't help but marvel how from my current station in rural Gujurat, the quotable Mr. Wilde is (unfortunately) as timely as ever.

It would be bad enough if the worst outcome of this exercise in mass-production was the stunting of my students' creative growth and the effective strangulation of their intellectual apertures. Yet, I find it still worse that that the material my students are expected to copy is riddled with grammatical errors and altogheter bodes a lack of fluency and basic compositional coherence.

It would be difficult to overstate the frustration and sadness I felt when I was told that when (remarkably, not "if") the passages from the book are incorrect, I am to content myself in teaching strictly according to what they read. The logic here, I've gathered, is that students are tested according to the book, so that is how they should be taught. Teach them how to use the English language properly, and they may well be penalized for it on their life-making (or breaking) state-sponsored exams. Teach them to pass their exams, and into the workforce they'll carry the mantle of substandard language skills; a legacy which has barred many generations before them from competing with urban Indians for the chance of a better quality of life. Herein lies a profoundly discouraging dialectic.

How can I even hope to effect the quality of English instruction in this community, my community (if only for a year), if I'm to carry out orders from the top-down which, in no uncertain terms, ask me to teach my students that incomplete fragments may pass as sentences; that run-on sentences are perfectly copacetic; that prepositions are optional and capitalization is but a caprice (all of this, coming after I tell them the author's name is, 'George Bernard Show')?

I wonder how Gandhiji might respond to the irksome panegyric which I transcribed for my 11th graders earlier today:

"India got freedom...Mahatma Gandhi helped the backward people...Let's pray to God that another Gandhi of that stature should incarnate in order to liberate our Mother India from the prevailing fear, hunger and corruption."

Not least for the fact that Gandhiji was himself born and bred not terribly far from Kadod, shouldn't we be teaching students that they are the ones who can "liberate" Mother India? That Gandhiji did not fight for the freedom to shackle students to the status quo? That India didn't "got" freedom; it achieved it by daring to demand the possible in spite of what was? That Gandhiji never saw people as 'backward,' only as people? Does it go without mentioning that he could not have seen the day when India's banner would fly over the Red Fort if he hadn't had at his disposal the language skills necessary to make the plight of colonized Indians a priority on the international agenda at the 1931 Round Table Conference (then hosted by the British, in English)?

These are the questions that raced through my mind as, against my every will, the chalk in my hand mechanically traced the lines quoted above. The bell rang. Class was dismissed and my students eagerly adjourned for recess. I waited until every one of the seventy-two of them had made their exit before I erased everything I'd written.

---

I'm a big believer that, at least from here on out, the power of ordinary people working together is a force to which Prime Ministers (as much as Kings and Presidents) will always be beholden. International grassroots efforts, from the Red Cross to Al Qaeda, have time and again demonstrated how nonstate actors are changing a world too long divided by political geography. At Nanubhai, we've boldly staked our interest in transforming rural education in India. For those of you reading this from overseas, I want to tell you that on the ground, I believe we're doing the best we can. But Gujurat is in need of educational reform from the top-down. As Gujurat's irrepressible Chief Minister Modi has declared this to be the "Year of Education," I'd encourage you to help us think of ways to hold his administration as accountable for Kadod and Madhi as he must be for Surat and Ahmedabad.

I left school today feeling rather discouraged because I know, we can do better. India can do better. I've seen it. But the notion that 'better is possible' is not the glimmer of hope; it is the beckoning call of work to be done, at least as much by those of us in the classroom as in the halls of Parliament. I will keep you posted as each of us here tries to surmount the formidable challenges that lie ahead.

A Little Handball Hoopla

2010-08-26T05:13:00.000-07:00

Friday was a lively day at Madhi High School. When I stepped foot inside the gate, there were twenty men unloading gravel and spreading it around the school grounds. I was happy because this meant that I would no longer have to hop over puddles on my way to classes.

When I got upstairs, the students happily greeted me and asked me if I was going to stay for the Handball Tournament that would be starting at 11:00 am. I agreed to attend and continued walking to the staff room to find out what was going on. The teachers explained that we would have a half day of classes and then the District Handball Tournament would be held on our school grounds. Several teams from all over the area would be arriving to compete for the title. This explained the sudden need to maintain the school grounds!

As I taught my classes all morning, my students clearly could not concentrate as they were anxious for the games to begin. From 10 am onwards, buses entered the school grounds unloading the other high school students. The last hour of my classes was an uphill battle to keep my students focused.

At 11:00 am sharp, Madhi students rushed home to change into their cool clothes and returned to the school within minutes, not to miss a second of the action. I was also intrigued because recently I have been craving sports entertainment (my home baseball team, the St. Louis Cardinals are competing for first place and every day I hear updates).

After the teams lined up and sang the national anthem, the games began. The first game was full of action. The handball court is slightly smaller than a basketball court and the teams run from end to end, passing the ball back and forth several times each minute. It seems incredibly exhausting. Also, from my observations, I gathered that handball is a combination of soccer, except there's no kicking, rugby and American football, except there's no tackling and netball, a popular African sport. The match lasts about 30 minutes with over twenty goals or points scored in each game.

The second match included Madhi High School. It was amazing. We scored continuously and only allowed one point to the opposing team. After the excellent home match, I stayed for one more game, in which two girls' teams showed their skills. While I couldn't stay for the full tournament, I later heard that Madhi won the tournament! It was a great afternoon full of fun competition and socializing with my friends and students from school! Enjoy the short video!

Kho-Kho Competition

2010-08-14T19:22:00.000-07:00

One of my classroom routines in Spoken English class is to ask students what they did last night, and 9 times out of 10, I get the same response: Last night, I played kho-kho. What was this kho-kho? It sounded a lot like a board game to me, so that's just what I assumed it was.

This morning at Spoken English class, a few of the boys told me that the school was having a kho-kho competition and that I should go and watch. "Sure!" I said. I imagined a bunch of students sitting in the auditorium, huddling over boards and game pieces. I'll stay for a few minutes, say hi to my students, and head back to the staffroom, I thought.

After teaching third period, Yogesh, Dave, Apeksha, Adarash, and I headed to the competition. "It's at the third ground," Yogesh told me. The third ground? That's just a huge field by the hostel. Students are playing board games there? On the other side of the bridge connecting the third ground to the rest of the school, we saw a mass of students surrounding a playing field marked with white powder, much like a football field. We got closer to find students in team uniforms running and chasing each other down a line of other squatting team members. Each time a player was tagged out, the audience wooped and hollered. I tried to figure out what the point of the game was by watching, but after a few minutes, I just felt more confused.
I found Dhirenbhai, the computer teacher, standing on the opposite side of the field, so I went over and asked him to explain the rules to me, and it all started to make sense. Here are the rules in a nutshell: How to play kho-kho

We came when the first half of the finals were underway, and the Kadod team, made up mostly of juniors and seniors, were the chasers. The opposing team finished the 7-minute half tagging out 4 members of the opposing team. Here’s a picture taken of the Kadod team during half-time as they kept repeated to themselves over and over again all they needed to do was to prevent 4 of their teammates from being tagged out to win.
The whistle signaled the start of the second half. There was shouting. There was diving. And there were some very close calls. Two Kadod players were tagged out within the first 2 minutes of the half. I could feel a wave of anxiety spread over the onlookers. But then Jaunti, Kadod’s star player, stepped out onto the field. Even in the wet mud, Jaunti was able to maneuver swiftly away from chasers, making split-second decisions to cross over the line to avoid falling into traps. One minute passed, then two, and then three. Out of frustration, players of the other team began lunging at Jaunti desperately. Each time he was able to avoid begin tagged, Kadod fans would jump and cheer to push him on. The final whistle blew, and Kadod was victorious 4-2! All at once, the students rushed the field and lifted the players onto their shoulders. It was an awesome display of school spirit.

With this victory, Kadod will play in the district competitions on August 30th. Since most of you readers are probably new to this sport, you have no other team to root for besides Kadod, so wish them luck!

Happy Birthday Emily Teacher!

2010-08-07T08:57:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday, August 4th, I celebrated my birthday at Madhi High School. I was previously informed that I needed to buy enough candy to distribute to each of my classes as well as the other teachers so on Tuesday evening, I went to the store and bought over 300 pieces of my favourite fruit candy, Falero!

When I woke on Wednesday morning, I decided to go all out and wear my new sari. I rushed over to our neighbors and politely asked in broken Hindi if she could help me pin and wrap the yards of fabric that make up the outfit. After I was dressed, I grabbed my bag of candy and headed to Madhi.

When I arrived at school I was greeted by all of my Spoken English students wishing me "Happy Birthday". I was so surprised they knew, but then I remembered they had asked me several weeks earlier when my birthday was. When we went to the classroom, my students formed a circle around me and presented me with gifts. I proceeded to open them and found that they had gotten me a few figurines, several pieces of jewelry, beautiful cards and various little trinkets. I was so touched that they made such a big deal of my birthday.

The rest of the day, I handed out candy to anyone who I passed. Everyone shook my hand and wished me many happy days in this new year. I even handed out candy to all of my friends in the village.

All in all, it was a great birthday. I ended it with all of the fellows. We celebrated over Chinese food at our favourite restaurant and mango lassis at the ice-cream shop.

Curious Minds

2010-08-06T11:34:00.000-07:00

The best part of my day is when I have my women’s initiative group. The girls in my group are so intelligent, enthusiastic, and curious about life. It’s refreshing to be around people who can’t wait to answer questions or find an answer to one. Their input is always surprising and they say things I sometimes don’t expect.
Today, I had the girls write a question, any question about their body, growing up, puberty, or just anything general that they want to know the answer to. The questions are anonymous to spare the girls any embarrassment later. One of the questions was, “When you were little were you fat or thin?” I smiled at the reflection of the past, “I was chubby. I didn’t outgrow my baby fat and I wasn’t happy because I thought my body would never change but then it did!” One of the girls face lit up relating to what I was saying.
The next question was, “I want to be an engineer, will I be?” It took me a minute to collect myself because I was so touched by this question. These girls want to make something of themselves. They want to be successful but they just don’t know what the process is. Now that I am leaving in a few days I just can’t seem to detach myself from them. I want to fill them with as much information as possible about anything-everything!

Our new Ghar

2010-08-02T04:29:00.001-07:00

After many long weeks of living out of our suitcases, Priya, Emily, and I finally moved into our new house. The house looks almost antique with carvings on doors, walls, and cabinets. The first floor has a sitting area, middle room with a swing, and a kitchen. Upstairs there are two more rooms. There is enough room to roam around and scatter things and just be in your own space. My favorite room is the sitting room because the sun light hits the room just right while I sit and read a book on a soft bed.
So far, we’ve had a few adventures with our house some of them include making chai as the first welcome to our house, then making pakora (fried onion in batter), and lastly adopting a cat named Chandler. The name was picked by Priya and Emily who constantly quote the show, “Friends”. We are excited to see how much we can decorate the house and make it our own in the time that we will be there.

Marvelous Mumbai

2010-08-01T11:15:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday morning, Priya, Eric, Felicia and I departed the village of Kadod for a two-day trip to Mumbai (Bombay). We took a bumpy bus to Surat where we caught a train to Mumbai. It was an enjoyable trip and rejuvenating break from the village.

We have all been quite busy since we arrived here seven weeks ago, so the outing was extremely refreshing for all of us. We are all anxious to get out and see as much of India as we can and we finally had an opportunity to see a new place. The train ride was fun as we all shared a sleeper cabin. We each had our own small bed, so we were able to enjoy a short nap in the air-conditioning and we played several games of Monopoly Deal while munching on our favourite snacks of Mango Lays and Tiger Glucose biscuits.

When we arrived to Mumbai after our four-hour train ride, we had several hours to go out and see the city, since on conference started the following morning. We hopped in a rickshaw and headed to Bandra, one of the more "happening" areas of the city. We stepped out of the monsoon rain and into Coffee Bean and Tea Leave, a famous American coffee shop and enjoyed a delicious cup of freshly brewed coffee. After the rains subsided, we headed back outside and towards the local train station, to catch the local line to Colaba, the area home to the Gateway of India and the well-known Taj Hotel.

The local train was quite a different experience from our earlier train ride. No air-conditioning, no seats and no doors! We hung onto the bars and watched the city fly by us as we stuck our heads out of the moving train. After reaching Colaba, we hopped on a bus to Indigo Deli, a must-visit restaurant. We ordered the most tasty burgers and barbecued chicken sandwiches that we've tasted in months. We sat back, completely full and so happy to have had a little taste of America. We even ventured down the street to a popular pub and shared an ice-cold pitcher of Kingfisher beer.

The following morning, we woke and had breakfast with Priya's family who lives in the city. Her aunt is an excellent cook and sent us the conference with full bellies from a hearty breakfast. When we reached the Orchid Hotel, the venue for the conference, we were once again in awe of the extravagance we haven't seen in quite awhile. Here we were at a five-star hotel with an elegant fountain in the center of the lobby. We were rushed to the conference room and given big binders of material and shown to our seats.

The conference was held for English teachers in mostly the Mumbai area. It included information on the TOEFL examination, the exam international students take to be accepted to universities abroad. The exam tests students in four main areas- reading, writing, speaking, and listening. Throughout the conference, we learned different strategies to stress each area in the classroom. Although we are only teaching standard 8 and standard 9, students who are not ready for college, we do target these main areas in our Spoken English classes, so the presentation was extremely helpful. In addition, we learned about the exam content and how we can prepare our students if they ever decide they want to study abroad in the future. The key speaker, Emilie Pooler, from the United States, did an excellent job of giving us examples and interactive activities throughout the workshop. We even had the opportunity to talk to her personally over a scrumptious buffet lunch. We asked her several questions about ideas we could try in our Spoken English classes. She offered many great suggestions.

The conference ended at 5:00pm and we hopped in a taxi and sped back to the train station to make the 6:00 Express train back home. Luckily, we arrived 20 minutes early and conveniently there was a McDonald's across the street. We enjoyed one last taste of western food before a train ride back to the village. All in all, it was a great experience in the big city.

Spoken English Charades

2010-07-30T00:34:00.000-07:00

Eric and I teach supplemental Spoken English classes before and after school. Here, we're using a game of charades to teach verb conjugations in the present progressive tense. Listen closely and you can hear students yelling out, "She is dancing!, She is flying!, etc." Eric and I often use games to teach lessons, the idea being that learning - be it about pronunciation, grammar or syntax - doesn't have to be about monotonous, rote memorization. Although that's something we take for granted in America, it really seems to be a breath of fresh air for Kadod's classrooms.

"Chuck Doom Doom"

2010-07-24T12:02:00.000-07:00

I have to say that when it rains in NYC, the rain does not put a smile on my face. Traveling just makes me annoyed and by the time I get to my destination I just don’t want to deal with the rest of the day. However, my hands somehow seem to reach for the touch of the monsoon rain in Kadod. Lately, all it has been doing is raining. Luckily, I brought my awesome rain boots with me to India and boy do people get a kick out of them! I pretty much get teased everyday but they happen to be great conversation starters, so I’ve come to appreciate them.
Today, the one day when I don’t wear them, it does not stop raining. I’m not talking about a light drizzle with a chance of humidity, nope, I’m talking about a crazy down pour where you might as well leave your umbrella home because you’re gonna’ get soaked anyway. Priya and I had just finished visiting an elderly couple in the village, when it was continously pouring outside. We held each other to try and fit under her small umbrella but nothing prepared us for how soaked our feet and legs would get from puddles that were big enough to swim in. By the time we got to Kadod High School, we were drenched, and then we went wild. We began dancing and singing “Chuck Doom Doom” in the rain failing at the classic, “Bollywood Movie Rain Dance”. I had been looking forward to getting completely soaked in the rain and finally the time had come. You’re not officially experiencing India unless you dance in the rain like no one’s watching

Madhi Mendhi

2010-07-22T10:31:00.000-07:00

Today was an interesting day in the village of Madhi. It was the annual Mendhi (Henna) Competition! Furthermore, yesterday, Madhi English Medium School had its competition and the two winners were boys, which is slightly unusual as mendhi is most commonly practiced by girls.

Monday morning, bright and early I was approached by a student almost immediately after walking in the gates at Madhi High School. She was begging me to let her use me as her model for the Mendhi Competition which was to be held on Thursday. Before I could answer, another ten girls swarmed me and asked if they use one of my arms. Although I was still unsure as to what I was agreeing to, I accepted the first offer from my student, Sweta. Later, in the staff room, the teachers explained to me that every year there is a Mendhi Competition and the girls prepare their designs for months.

The competition, which took place this afternoon, was quite the exciting event. During the last two periods, all of the participants gathered in the hall and sat on the floor, facing their partners. One hour was given to complete a design on one arm, from the elbow down. Tomorrow, the winners will be announced! Check out the video and pictures of Felicia and I.

A Year of Education in Gujarat

2010-07-19T09:27:00.001-07:00

After my first two periods yesterday morning, I sat down in the staff room ready to enjoy the first chai break, and I noticed at the other end of the table two men in what seemed to be military uniform. Interesting, I thought. I took a sip of the chai, which was still very hot, when two students, also dressed in uniform, ran through the hallway outside of the staffroom. My first thought was that some sort of draft had started, and I was just out of the loop. I noticed that there were even more uniformed students walking across the grounds towards the back of the school where they normally have recess. I was extremely curious, and I had a free period, so I decided to see what was going on behind the school.

My first guess didn't turn out to be right. It wasn't a draft. One of the teachers that was helping organize the students explained to me that the governor of Gujarat declared 2010-11 as the Year of Education. One of the initiatives associated with this declaration was sending military personnel to schools across the state in order to lead rallies of students through their local cities, villages, and towns. With banners and sign posts in hand, the students were practicing chants that, interestingly, were mostly do with family sizes. When families have too many children, resources become too thinned, and parents resort to taking their children out of school early in order for them to work in their family business or on a farm.

I snapped a few pictures and was ready to head back to finish my chai (the heat was starting to bear down on me without protection from the glaring sun). All of a sudden, Principal Mahida put his hand on my shoulder and asked if I wanted to join the students on their rally through Kadod. Some of the students that I teach got really excited and started yelling "Sir, yes! Sir, yes!" making room for me in the line. How could I say no?

To be honest though, I was so grateful that I was able to join the students in their rally. Walking alongside the same students that I teach, trying my best to follow their chants, I think I might have come a few steps closer to understanding why I'm here beyond just getting students through another year of English class. The students were taught yesterday that education is something completely worth screaming about and hopefully getting heard in the process. I was glad I was there to show them that I believe the same thing.

Seeing the smiling, entertained faces of onlookers throughout the town, I got this sense that people do understand the value and importance of education. I have to confess that I was quick to blame poorer families for neglecting a child's education just because it's assumed that they're going to be working just as their parents, and their parents' parents, did. Most of us grew up not having to worry about having a next meal or not, and we were taught that the worst possible thing is to stifle someone of opportunity. What if a family's decision to stop their child's schooling is not even choice, but a necessity? I found more food for thought to digest.

Here are more pictures and a video from the rally! Hope you enjoy them!

Eric

India = Never Boring.

2010-07-18T10:03:00.000-07:00

Boring? Yeh Qya Hai?
I have come to a conclusion that it is NEVER a boring day in India. The last time I thought I was bored was when I was on a restless 14 hour flight to India. Everyday there is a new adventure, a new word I may learn in Hindi, and a new face with a new name that I continuously forget.
This week has been intense: I started a pilot program for the Women’s Initiative Program. It’s call “Women’s Empowerment Mentorship Program”. It is about teaching young women about influential Indian women, careers they can pursue and how important it is to continue an education. After a week of getting permission slips signed by parents and finding a location to host the class, I had a successful 3 days of the program. It is held every Monday-Wednesday during recess in the auditorium. I have 11 girls currently attending the class and their inputs on various subjects have been clever and knowledgeable. For example, they asked me about the American culture and I said, “Well in America, most Indian women, don’t wear Indian clothes. We may wear jeans and a shirt.” Then one of my students interrupted by saying, “But teacher, we wear jeans and t-shirts too.” These young women recognize the difference between the standing of men and women in India and they realize the different roles women now play from the past. I am interested to see how these young women grow and I hope they benefit from what I can offer them.
Another enjoyable event this week is when I taught classes at the English Medium School just 5 minutes up the road from Madhi High School. I teach 1-4th standard and boy are they adorable. This Thursday I met the music teacher, Vijay Bhai, and I had a few music lessons. He has an amazing voice and the children always love watching him and singing along. Later in the day when I was teaching the 3rd standard class a student walks up to me with his tooth in his hand, “Teacher, my tooth fell out!” After taking a few pictures of his new found excitement, I told him about the tooth fairy, and sent him on his way to the nurse. Next thing I know, three of my students come up to me to show me their teeth waiting to fall out. I laughed and said, “Wow, look at that! Please don’t pull it out now…”

Dhire Dhire (Slowly Slowly)

2010-07-14T11:22:00.000-07:00

It is now the end of my first month in India. I am slowly adjusting to the weather, which varies between hot, very hot, and hot and humid. Gradually, I am appreciating the unique and vibrantly colored dishes I have tasted. I am thoroughly enjoying chai tea as well as the tasty Indian snacks my fellow teachers share with me. And thus far, teaching is going well and I am learning how the education system of Gujarat functions as well as how to best teach seventy students in a single class.

It has been a challenging, yet interesting first month at Madhi High School. On my very first day of school, I arrived wearing my salwar kameez and was swarmed by hundreds of curious smiling faces as I walked through the gates to enter the school. It was a bit of blur as a result of jet lag, since I arrived in Kadod the previous afternoon.

After meeting Principal Modi Sir, I was then taken to the staff room where I met several people who I’d be teaching with for the next ten months. Everyone was extremely welcoming and anxious to get to know me. Vijaybhai, the head of the English department, suggested that I accompany him to classes for the first day. I quickly agreed, thankful that I would be able to observe his classes as he is very well spoken in English.

As we arrived to his first class in standard nine (9^th grade), I immediately scanned the room for a seat in the back where I could comfortably sit and soak in this first English class on the other side of the world. Much to my surprise, Vijaybhai called me to the front of the room to introduce myself. After I talked for two minutes about who I am and where I came from, I thought my portion of the class was over. Little did I know that it was now the question and answer session for the new American teacher. I was excited that the students were so intrigued by me and I happily welcomed their questions, assuming they would be basic facts about myself, my family, or my hobbies. On the contrary, the questions I received were: "Who is your favourite (Bollywood) actor?", "Who wrote the American national anthem?" and "Who made the American flag?" Well, I have only seen Slumdog Millionaire, which is not technically Bollywood, and while I do know the anthem writer and I do not know who made our flag, so I was a little embarrassed. Later that night, I “googled” Bollywood actors and who made the American flag. The next day at school, I proudly shared my answers and I received another set of trivia questions.

In the weeks that followed my first day, I have become much more comfortable at Madhi. I enjoy teaching my Spoken English class as well as my Gujarati- medium classes. Every day brings new challenges, but I am blessed to have a great co-teacher, Ameetaben, as well as a helpful staff. Thankfully, the weather has begun to cool down as the monsoon started not long ago. Unfortuntately, with the rains comes a plethora of insects, but I am grateful for the cool breeze and night-time rains. I am still adjusting to life in India, but I look forward to the next several months and I can only imagine the experiences I’ll have.

2010 School Year Begins!!

2010-07-13T03:16:00.000-07:00

Hello all!

I’m Priya Garg, Nanubhai’s India Program Director, and I’m here to announce the start of a new school year and our new class of fellows and interns! Before they start blogging about their experiences here on the ground, I would like to introduce our fantastic new group:

AT KADOD HIGH SCHOOL!!!

Eric Huh is a graduate of Columbia University with a major in Neuroscience and Behavior. He is excited and has many hopes for the opportunity he has been given to be a part of the Nanubhai team and serve the city of Kadod and Kadod High School. He has had experience teaching English during summers in Honduras and Kazakhstan which has fueled his commitment toward teaching and allowed him to realize the tremendous value in education. He understands how much more there is for him to learn and is, therefore, all the more eager for the experiences he will have in India. He looks forward to learning Hindi, getting acquainted to local foods, and growing in love with a country he will be able to call a home away from home.

Zach Hindin graduated Phi Beta Kappa from the George Washington University with an interdisciplinary major in Philosophy & Global Politics and a minor in Jazz Performance. Since fall 2006, he's co-directed Banaa.org, an international educational empowerment network that creates scholarship opportunities for survivors of genocide in Sudan at universities across the US. In spring 2009, Hindin lived in Varanasi, where he studied Hindustani classical music as a GW International Research Symposiast. In addition to North India, Hindin has traveled through Thailand, Singapore, Turkey, Greece, France, Spain, and, most recently, to the Caribbean islands, where he toured with his reggae band. At the moment, Hindin has aspirations to continue studying philosophy and eventually pursue an MFA in creative nonfiction. Having sat behind the student's desk for more than 15 years, he's excited to continue learning, this time from the other end of the classroom.

AT MADHI HIGH SCHOOL!!!

Emily Richardson graduated from the University of Dayton in 2007 with a degree in Science and Psychology. She had plans to obtain a master’s degree in Occupational Therapy at the University of Illinois at Chicago, but abruptly decided to go abroad and do a year of service in Africa. Emily went to Karonga, Malawi in Central Africa and taught at an all boys’ boarding secondary school in a rural village. After six months there, she fell in love with teaching, as well as the community and culture, so she decided to give up her position at graduate school and stay in Malawi for an additional two years. There, she taught English Composition and Grammar, Biology and Chemistry in addition to coaching several sports and clubs. As a result of this incredible experience, she now wants to pursue a career in International Education Development. Now, Emily is looking forward to teaching English in a different part of the world and learning as much as she can about the Indian culture and the Kadod community!

Felicia Singh (Summer Intern) is an English Literature and Adolescent education major at Adelphi University. She is interested in teaching middle school or high school students the value of literature. She is the president of her senior class and works hard in other leadership opportunities on Adelphi's campus. She loves her Indian culture and strives in learning as much she can about it. In the future she would like to work on women's initiative programs around the world as well as teach in other countries. Felicia has a strong belief in the quote, "Be the change you want to see in the world" and she strives to do just that.

A Year to Remember

2010-03-09T19:42:00.000-08:00

On Friday, February 26th, Kirsten and I woke with a heavy weight on our hearts; it was our last day of school. The day we had been dreading for weeks was finally here and there was no avoiding the pain that we would feel. As I wrapped myself in a sari for the last time, my eyes stung with tears. I thought back to the first time Kirsten and I wore a sari to school. I remember feeling nervous that my sari would fall off and how our cheeks burned with embarrassment when 700+ students cheered wildly at the sight of us in traditional Indian dress. That day seemed so long ago, and now, here we were preparing to say goodbye. I could have never predicted the emotions I would feel on our final day, but earlier that week I was given some insight into just how hard it would be.

On the 22nd, after weeks of preparation, endless amounts of frustrations and several headaches later, our Spoken English students performed their Annual Function to a hall packed with students, teachers and families. Despite our worries, the students did a fabulous job and we couldn't have been more proud. At the end of the program some of my girls rushed up to me and said, "Teacher, Binal is crying." As I went to comfort her, the tears became contagious and soon, all 16 girls were huddled around me, tears streaming down their faces. "Please Teacher," they begged, "don't go to America. Don't leave us!" Now, I was the one with tears running down my face.

The rest of the week was just as hard and filled with tears. In each of my final classes I wrote my address on the board and the students copied it down into their worn notebooks. I was crying again when my 8D class presented me with gifts and roses. I was deeply touched when my 5th standard students gave me whatever they could, which amounted to 15 ball pens, 2 key chains, a half bottle of purple nail polish and a heart made from notebook paper. I choked back my tears as I said goodbye and walked out of the classroom for the last time.

Not only did I build relationships with the students, but also with our fellow teachers, and saying goodbye to them was just as hard. As a small token of our appreciation, Kirsten and I hosted a lunch for all the staff members on that final Friday. The entire staff of 60+ people gathered in the center hall and I was fighting back tears (unsuccessfully)as some of the teachers spoke about us. When it was my turn to talk, I couldn't. Sadness had gripped my throat and I couldn't catch my breath. Kirsten took over while I regained my composure and I then tried to relate with words the feelings in my heart. I thanked them for opening their school, sharing their students, and for treating us like family.
As we sat down to eat, a teacher leaned over and whispered, "Even though you are leaving, we will always remember you in our hearts."
"And you will be in mine," I replied.

My days in India are numbered, a fact that I would like to deny. This country is so vibrant and full of life, from the colors to the people. India is bursting with possibility and I hope that the students, the future leaders of India, are given the skills to make their dreams possible and to lead their country. I hope that I helped to contribute to their future successes, and I hope that they will remember me, because I will remember them.

I feel so blessed to have had this opportunity to experience India in such an intimate way; to interact with it's future, to fall in love with it's people, and above all, to learn. India is a country I have grown to love, even though it challenged me. It's a place I have learned to appreciate, even though at times it frustrated me. My heart will not forget the things that my eyes have seen or my ears have heard. The kindness that was shown to me and the friendships I have made will not be forgotten.
For me, India will always remain Incredible.

SCOPE May be a Joke…In Improving Teachers English Ability

2010-02-28T23:05:00.000-08:00

When I heard about the SCOPE program, a course to increase the teachers English ability, I grew excited about the positive impact on English at Bajipura. I thought it was great that the government of Gujarat was taking efforts to reverse the affects of not making English a priority for many years. The results of these decisions are still negatively impacting the students’ success because it is difficult to find teachers that are highly qualified in this subject and thus the students suffer. Now the government is taking bold steps to change this cycle of have unqualified English teachers, creating poor students through introducing the SCOPE program and making it mandatory for teachers to take this exam. If the teachers do not receive their appropriate level on the exam then they will not be eligible to receive their salary advance. My excitement lasted until I started helping my fellow teachers with their studying.

I first started thumbing through the book to check out the program. The book layout left much to be desired. Navigating the workbook was difficult for me, a native speaker. Also I was confused by the purpose of the teachers learning business English, since it is not applicable to their work setting. I finally had the full experience of the SCOPE program when we were able to use the instructional CD-ROM. The CD portion of the materials is important to the course, but many teachers do not have access to computers to practice as much as they should.

My co-teacher and I worked together to answer the various questions. I struggled to read the long essays that were filled with difficult business content. My degree has fully prepared me to read for meaning and while I have been successful in English medium elementary, High School, and college, I only was able to have 4 out of 6 correct in one of the exercises. Not only is the content of the readings and listening parts difficult, the answers have near the same meaning and take an exact knowledge of the English language to find the right answer.

All teachers take this exam whether they are English teachers or have not taken and English course since High school. Even my co-teacher who has good English was saying she did not want to read the lengthy, boring paragraphs, that were filled with business jargon, but the teachers that have almost no understanding of English do not even attempt to read the questions, paragraphs, or answers. The teachers tell me in Gujarati that they simply pray to God to help them pick the right letter a, b, or c. As I am helping the teachers they not only have no idea of the answer, they also have no practice with computers and cannot submit their answers without great difficulty. Unfortunately for them their exam is administered online. Basically, their odds of receiving passing marks on the exam are very small.

I would like to find out more about this program, but my initial thought is that the government of Gujarat really needs to re-think their methods. The first problem of many is that it is only a textbook and not a training program. The teachers do not have basic knowledge of English and no teacher is provided to help them improve. Instead of investing money in costly textbooks and exams why not offer training courses with qualified trainers. They can take private courses for high prices, but what teacher makes that much money to pursue this option. The next fault of the exam is that it awards different leveled results: beginner to advance ratings, but the material is the same for all levels. The exam does not encourage the beginners to improve because the material is too hard that they become too frustrated to even read the questions and answers. The third issue is that the exam is computerized. I think that it is a great idea to encourage proficiency in computers and there should be programs that target this specifically. To challenge the teachers to show their proficiency in English on the computer, when they do not have practice with computers is a huge disadvantage for them.

The most baffling and frustrating part of the program is that it is business orientated. I can think of the logic behind the government officials: to promote economic success they need to teach the language of the business world. Due to this logic, the teachers are doomed to failure because not only do you need a knowledge of English, but you need to know the language of business. I find it hard to believe that the Sanskrit teacher will be able to implement gained knowledge about marketing and outsourcing into class. Does the government want the teacher to leave their school work to pursue work in the business world? In my knowledge of pedagogy I know that a human mind must first learn basics and move to specifics. Students in the ninth standard need to learn the basics of English before learning about the specific terms of the business world. Even though the teachers are not really learning business English because they do not know the basics of English, I do not understand why it is important for the teachers to teach business English to students in a science class. Perhaps if they want to teach specialized English, the best place to start would be in the teachers own subject area.

I understand and value the attempt that has been made to improve English ability within the staff of teachers to create more opportunities for the students. I am just disheartened by the inability of this program to bring about any real change. If any person is reading this that is involved in bringing the SCOPE program to Gujarat government schools I urge you to revise some of the methods so that the teachers can first learn the basics of English and then progress towards this specialized exam. Please also provide training for the teachers because I know they are willing to learn if someone is giving this task. If this information is somewhat disturbing to you the reader that is hearing about SCOPE for the first time also feel inspired to take action with the government of Gujarat. Please tell them that Nanubhai Education Foundation is working in teacher training and will provide their services for next to free and can provide teachers that are proficient in English and can help the teachers learn basics of English or for English teachers further increase their ability. This program inspires me to keep working with Nanubahi after my fellowship to allow for Gujarati children to get the help they need rather than the government spending money on programs that continue to fail the students.

A Difficult Day

2010-02-19T07:34:00.000-08:00

Time. There is never enough of it. Time seems to speed up as we get older and it flies when we are having fun. These realities about time are becoming more and more evident to me as my final weeks of teaching draw near. On Monday, I taught my English Medium students for the last time and it was a very depressing day. The students had no idea it would be my last day when I walked into the classroom on that Monday morning. When I told them, there was an audible gasp and the pained look on Dhruti’s face was especially hard to bear. Her mouth dropped open, her brow furrowed and it looked as if she might cry. I felt the same way.

When I first came to the English Medium school the students didn’t know what to think of me, especially the Kindergartner and Pre-KG kids. I was immediately drawn to them because they are some of the cutest kids I have ever seen, especially in their uniforms. The dress shorts, plaid button-up shirt, and striped tie make the boys look like little gentlemen. The girls, dressed in blue pinafores, white socks and the same striped tie, look like petite ladies. Some of the kids are so small that their white socks slouch and bunch around their tiny ankles. The illusion of perfect gentlemen and ladies is shattered when the school bell rings and they run full force to the playground, their striped ties waving to me in the breeze.

My favorite part of the day is recess, which is when the kids descend upon the narrow patio to devour the delicacies packed into their small lunch tins. Instead of sitting in the staff room with the other teachers, I sit on the patio and watch the kids. On the first day I did this, the kids walked by me and recoiled in horror at this strange creature that had appeared at their school. I would smile at them and say hello, which would either send them into a fit of giggles, or send them running.

Part of what I love about recess is the opportunity to watch them interact with each other. They are so animated with their facial expressions and their bodies; they use their arms and hands to gesture to each other in such a serious manner. At times they are in such intense discussions it seems they could be discussing the future of India, or how to achieve world peace. I asked the teachers what they are saying and was told that they are talking about their snacks, and most arguments involve “He/She was eating my food!”

Slowly, week by week, the kids became more comfortable with me. Now, the kids are the first to say “Good morning Teacher!” When I walk down the corridor, I am greeted by every student with a smile and a wave. They ask me (in Gujarati because they are so young) to open their lunch boxes and water bottles. It may sound weird, but I was especially touched when a KG student came to me to tattle on another student. Tattling, usually seen as an annoyance by teachers, meant to me that they finally recognized me as a teacher. I was no longer some alien creature. My persistence had paid off and they had accepted me.

The Principal told me in our final discussion on Monday that I was the best teacher in his heart for his students. This touched me deeply and I was taken aback with his sincerity and at once I felt the same. His students are the best students in my heart.

Spring Cleaning

2010-02-14T20:16:00.000-08:00

Last month we decided to implement a Spoken English computer curriculum for our students. We thought it would be a great way for them to learn how to use the Internet, email and other software they are not otherwise taught. It also gave students who cannot pay for computer classes the opportunity to familiarize themselves with them.

We walked into the computer lab with high hopes, but upon laying down ground rules and turning on the computers we realized it was next to impossible to teach a curriculum in this lab. The computers were in a state of disarray, both inside and out. The computers had all sorts of issues ranging from simple physical problems of broken USB ports, exposed hard drives, unattached side panels and a ridiculous amount of dust. Unfortunately, all the issues did not have an easy fix. The more difficult issues to tackle are the hardware problems - bugs, error messages, hard drive failure etc.

Our goal is to get the computers into a state where the students can rely on them as well as making sustainable changes to the computer lab management through training and regular maintenance. We plan on transforming it into an efficient work area by redesigning the server, fixing numerous error problems and installing new software that will make the lab a viable part of the Kadod High School curriculum.

Last Saturday we planned an all Spoken English cleaning day. Although the students do have school on Saturdays, getting them to come back to school on their weekend proved easier than expected. Granted we did bribe them with a movie and cake after the clean-up, but the kids were genuinely excited to clean up their lab.

Not only have the students taken the time outside of school to successfully clean and organize the computers, they will now pass along those skills and sense of responsibility to a number of other students and faculty at Kadod High School.

(Pictures of the cleanup to come...)

Sports vs. Academics: Competition in US and Indian Public Schools

2010-02-14T02:54:00.000-08:00

The one thing that all children learn in school is the important and role of competition in their life. The structures of most schools are set up to stress this value to children. In the US are academic competition is stressed, but the even more blatant form of completion comes from our participation in sporting events. The whole school culture in most public schools revolves around sporting events and the success of schools in sporting events. In India there is not the same sporting culture as in the US. Indian sports throughout the year have consisted of students playing during recess time in courtyard, but nothing formal.

This Monday at Bajipura there was a scheduled Cricket Match. As we watched my students asked me if the principal at schools in America also declare sports day. This got me thinking about how infused the schools culture is with sports. It is not just one sporting day but that nearly every day in US schools focuses on sports. During this day the ninth standard team was climbing into the finals as they defeated team after team and the final game was going to be against 12th standard to decide the school champions of this year. As I teach all ninth standard classes a swelled in pride watching my students lead their class to victory. Unlike in American schools where all the great athletes are well known throughout the school, wearing the uniforms on game days and having their names announced on the loud speaker for their achievements, in India it was surprising for me to see what students were the athletes. Unlike in America where the students growing popularity and social calendar is dictated by their success in sports, in India the only students that are well known are the students achieving academically, all other successes are secondary.

Ninth standard lost the final match, but these athletes had their day in the spotlight. The very next day there was a speech and quiz competition and then the athletics slipped out of the spotlight and again academics became our main focus. Just like the honor that US athletes receive at a pep rallies, my student Prutvi had the same glory as he stood up to deliver his speech in the speech competition. As he made his way to the stage the whole school roared in cheers and pride. The students from the other schools had stood up on stage and rushed as fast as possible through their monotone speeches. Prutvi made his way to stage with such confidence and poise. He welcomed the audience and spoke with zest and as he made point after point the whole audience nodded in approval. After he finished, the whole prayer hall exploded in applause. Next during the speech competition two more of my ninth standard students competed against two other schools. Let’s just say Bajipura Highschool was kicking butt during the quiz and the prayer hall was filled with pride and excitement as the two heroic students of ninth standard led the school to victory.

Although there was only one sporting day at Bajipura Highschool I have seen over five such quiz or speech competitions held. Can we even think about the number of events at US schools that revolve around sports? I remember each and every Friday night, in the fall, the parking lot of the school overflowing as the whole village came to cheer on the athletes of my High School. There were absolutely no academic events at my school that drew the same attention.

The scary part about completion in US schools is that it had deviated away from academic competition. I do not believe whole heartedly in the value of completion and its role in inspiring students, I rather more approve of students being self-motivated and realizing the contribution of their efforts and how it leads to their success. Competition will not leave our school culture, but I do wish that American students felt the same desire to be competitive to lead their school academically rather than on the sports field. Being first rank in your class in India is the biggest mark of popularity, rather than failing out of school but winning the most points for your school in the last sporting event like in the US. If we could make it cool for students to excel academically in the United States like it is cool in India, then our students could be unstoppable because not only would they be provided with a wealth of resources to pursue their academics, but they would actually be inspired to learn as well. Let the US learn from India and make it the biggest accomplishment to be in the first string of academic success, rather than being the first string quarter back.

Thank You!

2010-02-13T09:00:00.000-08:00

I was overwhelmed by the outpouring of support we received for our fundraiser. I just wanted to say thank you- thanks for all the kind words, notes of support, thoughts and prayers, and for the financial support as well. So many times, we extend our support with the hopes of making a difference, but we may never fully see the difference that our contributions provide. I have the benefit of actually seeing it come to fruition before my very eyes- I can glance down the table now, as I type, and I can see the children reading. I can envision the new books that these generous contributions will provide. It is also a humbling experience however, as

the students fully counted on us winning the half marathon. I was content to finish and do my best- that is not good enough for them. How can I expect anything less from them? We push them everyday- we tell them to try harder, so how could we expect any less from ourselves. We did do our best, and we ran strong and hard. I hope it serves as an example to our students, that they can set goals, push themselves to accomplish those goals and make a difference.
We are planting the seeds that will grow into the future of India. The books that will be furnished by your generous contributions and support will help open the eyes of students to the world around them. It will help spark an interest in subjects that were previously elusive and not thought possible by many of the students. One never knows what may spur a student to reach for the stars and pursue goals that they never would have considered in the past, but I do know that the chances increase with the additional academic resources we place before them. Gandhi’s words of, “Be the change you want to see in the world,” echo still today, and we would like to thank everyone who has helped us make a positive change in our schools.

A Religious Melting Pot

2010-02-13T08:07:00.000-08:00

In America, we take some sense of pride in considering ourselves a melting pot for ethnicities and cultures from all around the world to come and weave themselves into the fabric of American society. It is what makes America special- the diversity and the “American Dream” of creating a better life through the pursuit of excellence and hard work. One can debate the merits as to the reality of opportunity for these people coming to try to forge a better life, but they believe they can, and there is an essence of reality in believing. The variety of festivals, faiths, and food helps to give people a chance to glance through windows into lives and cultures that they would ordinarily not be able to experience. I, like many other Americans, always appreciated this aspect of realizing our similarities while celebrating our differences.

India has, in some ways, really demonstrated what a melting pot is from a religious aspect. We live in the really small town of Bajipura with a population in the neighborhood of about 5,000 residents.

We do have religious freedom in America, but in a closer glance, this freedom usually manifests itself in Christianity in its various expressions. The cathedral in downtown Indianapolis holds an interfaith celebration every year around Thanksgiving, and that is where one can witness the various faiths from the city coming together to express thanks, but they have the tendency to seem somewhat obscure, as we do not see them openly practiced on a daily basis. Indianapolis is not the most diverse city in America, but it is still a rather large city where one would expect a greater diversity in religious practices.

It is strange that the actual realization of a melting pot is much more prevalent in India from a religious perspective- especially in the smaller towns. I think one would be hard pressed to find a small town in America with as much religious diversity as the small towns in India. Bajipura has 3 Hindu Temples, a Mosque, a Jain Temple, with a Protestant and Catholic Church just up the road. While religious relations have not always been the best in India, they seem to be fairly harmonious at the present time.

It has been a wonderful experience for me to see the different faiths interacting on a daily basis, and it has also helped from a personal growth perspective. We spent our Thanksgiving with a Muslim family, and it was nice to spend it together in a family atmosphere so far away from home. This is much different than the images that we are bombarded with on a daily basis through our televisions, but that is all the interaction that many people are afforded, so opinions are formed from narrow perspectives and little information.

I also had the wonderful opportunity to spend Christmas out in the villages, as groups of people came together to celebrate. The religious fervor, be it Christian, Hindu or Muslim in India is almost unparalleled. They sing and they dance with such fervor, it is inspiring to see that faith is just not a hum drum daily duty. The people were literally stacked on top of vehicles for Christmas, as many do not have cars, but they would not be deterred from coming together to celebrate.
It is commonly understood that one should be careful when discussing religion and politics due to the deeply personal nature of the issues and the diverse experiences that people have experienced in forming their views. Discussions are healthy though, and it makes it so much easier when you encounter it on a daily basis.

It's a Mistry

2010-02-13T07:39:00.001-08:00

One of the joys of teaching in a small village in India is getting to know the people in that village. We are welcomed into homes, and people are eager to learn about us, as well as tell us a little about themselves. It is usually done over a warm cup of tea, and laughter and smiling is inevitable. I was able to enjoy one of these such encounters just after arriving in Bajipura.

We were welcomed to go to the house of Sangita Mistry, a teacher at a local college, and she wished to introduce us to her parents. She led us to a sort of alley, and it was dusk. You could hear the soft whispers of conversations, music playing, and some pots gently banging with the cleanup after dinner. She came to a small cozy house along a row of very similar houses, and she knocked on the door. We could hear her father singing inside, so it took a couple of knocks to get his attention. When he did open the door, it was a rush of excitement to welcome us into his house and make us feel at home. He pulled out a shoebox from his dresser drawer, and it contained many old photos of when he was a child. He spread them out on the bed, and one could not help to wish that pictures could talk. He did a nice job of retelling the stories- of how he had gone to Dubai as a young man to help in the construction of various building projects. He showed us his passport form the 1950s, and it contained several stamps from his travels throughout the region. We enjoyed our visit together, and as the night got late, we excused ourselves, and we began our short walk back home.

While walking home, and passing several houses similar to the Mistry house, I could not help but wonder what stories lay behind each door. I thought the name, Mistry, was appropriate, as in India, it signifies the duties of a carpenter, but in English (mystery), it signifies something that we may never know or have yet to figure out. I thought this was especially true of all the doors that we pass in our lives, and we never take the time to open them. It does not take much effort to get to know those around us, but too often we get caught up in our own lives, and we do not make the effort to reach out and connect with other people. It was a good lesson for me, and I found that it was definitely a Mistry worth exploring.

Happy Valentine's Day!

2010-02-09T10:50:00.000-08:00

One of my students, Dharmendra, presents me with a construction paper heart

While Valentine's Day is not an official Indian holiday, it has crept its way into the general vernacular of our villages through popular culture, Bollywood films and celebrations put on by local Indian colleges. Since there isn't really a norm for dating in the communities that we work in, and marriages are as much about family as they are about any given couple, I was surprised last year when I asked my students to write a newsletter article and they chose "February 14: Valentine's Day".

Here are the thoughts of my two students, Vikas and Vishal:

14th February: Valentines Day
By Vikas and Vishal

Everyone, even young boys, young girls and old men, like Valentines Day. On 14th February, everyone celebrated Valentine's Day. Everyone celebrated Valentine's Day
because some people like friendship and some people like love. On that day, people give chocolate and flowers to celebrate Valentine's Day.

Everyone was happy on that day, but we were unhappy, because we don't like Valentine's Day.

If you want to meet one of the authors of this fantastic article, you can watch an interview with Vikas right here:

Bombay through New Eyes

2010-01-28T09:55:00.000-08:00

My first trip to Bombay was the typical westerner’s experience of the city. The girls and I hit up all the local points that cater to western desires. We ate pancakes, scrambled eggs, bagels and cream cheese for breakfast and most importantly we payed around 100 rupees for our delicious Italian roast coffee. I stayed with young people from all over the world in the Salvation Army Hostel. These young people dressed in hippie or alternative fashion with skin being shown in excess and smoking and drinking for enjoyment. My second trip was quite a different experience, as I went carrying the eyes of my fellow travelers, my co-teacher and her daughter that are well accustomed to their small and calm life in Bajipura.

As foreigners we are used to carrying around our passports, while traveling, knowing that we have to conform to police regulations and register at all hotels. I thought it would be a different experience for my Indian counter parts, since they are within their own country. They came to the hostel, where I stayed the first time, and were immediately turned away because they were not able to show identification. Hansabhen was so bewildered to know why a resident of India had to show their identification, she repeated over and over that she has never been asked for it before. Finally we got an offer from one hotel that would take us if Hansabhen could fax in her documentation. The hotel staff proposed to me that I “the foreigner” would be in charge of making sure they did not cause any problems in the hotel. The one glitch in the hotel staffs’ plan is that foreigners and Indians cannot cohabitate in one room, so therefore I would have difficulty watching their behavior.

When we finally tackled the obstacles presented with finding a place to stay we made our way to the streets. I had not quite been aware the first time how many foreigners frequented the area we were staying. Hansabhen frequently talked about how Mumbai was just like America, since there were so many Americans. I tried to inform her that most of these people were not Americans, but she insisted that Americans and foreigners are pretty much the same thing.

We sat down at the restaurant nearest to our hotel for breakfast. I did not put myself in the others’ perspective while choosing the restaurant, a famous hot spot, Leopold’s Café. As soon as we looked at the menu Hansabhen gasped at the prices and then started commenting that it was a beer bar. We sat down for a total of five minutes and then were off to find an Indian restaurant. We found a nice hotel that had high prices as far as Hansabhen was concerned, but actually it was pretty reasonable. Because the prices were considered high, we all had to sit at the table and stuff ourselves until we were going to burst out of our pants. We still could not finish and Hansabhen looked very distraught and had the remaining food packed for later, something a foreigner would rarely think of doing on a vacation. As we sat filling our stomachs, Hansabehn checked out each of the foreigners saying which member of the Nanubhai staff they looked like. She finally decided that all foreigners look the same.

The first destination in our travels was the temple of Ganesha. We waited in long line to find out I could not enter because I had my laptop. I waited outside for them to finish and then Hansabhen came back and said she would be happy to fight the crowds for a second chance to see Ganesha. We made our way to Ganesha, but were only allowed to go on a balcony and see the god at a distance. We sat looking from far away as people pushed their elbows into my side to move. Other people were able to get close to Ganesha and Hansabhen was determined to figure out how this could be done. We exited and she immediately started looking around to find the way to enter and gain closer proximity. She found a location where all the people were exiting from the temple and knew that these were the people getting close to Ganesha. Before I could hold her back she was disappearing calling my name as she pushed through the masses of people trying to exit the temple. Since I knew I would make a big scene attempting the same maneuver, I decided to go find her daughter and hoped that we would meet up again in the huge crowd.

After this we were onto going for our shopping marathon. We did not shop in the tourist areas that meet my every western desire for buying “Indian” jewelry and clothing, but in the heart of local shopping streets that consist of many stalls, lining the street. Instead of having the “Indian” jewelry and clothing that I enjoy so much they have the actual jewelry and clothing that Indians wear, which is many times to elaborate and over decorated for my taste. We spent around four hours going from shop to shop looking at the gold and sequins. Hansabhen and her daughter never grew tired but I became weak as I wasn’t interested in the items and each shop took a matter of hours due to the ruthless bartering of Hansabhen the professional bargainer.
For dinner they found their newest hot spot, a place where they could get 25 rupee dosa. We finished our leftover food from earlier that day so we could save even more money. On our way back to our hotel I began asking myself the question, “Why I was having them stay in this area?” As the westerners prepared for a night on the town in their low cut and low waisted clothes, I began to see them differently as Hansabehn and her daughter looked with their mouths open at the number of bra straps and bare legs they say hanging out of clothes. I became embarrassed at the way foreigners presented themselves in India and felt completely distant to the people in which I was supposed to belong. During these moments I felt like I was looking through the lens of a rural Gujarati, rather than seeing the world with the same perspective as the peculiar, under clothed travelers.

A huge struggle for anyone coming from the village, where we pay 5 rupees for a rickshaw ride, is taking the Bombay taxis for 50 times that price. The second day Hansabhen was bound and determined to figure out the bus system. On that day we spent our entire morning seeking out a way to get to Juhu beach, by bus. We asked around 30 locals and waited searching bus after bus to try and find the correct number. We finally found our bus and nearly did not make it on because the bus stops for a mere second and if you do not move fast it will be gone before you blink your eye. We finally found ourselves some seats and we were comfortable enjoying our 12 rupee bus ride all the way across Bombay. Our peaceful ride was interrupted when a whole crowd of people came on the bus shouting and bickering between themselves and they squeezed in every corner of the bus that they could find. One woman wrapped herself right around Hansabhen’s daughter who was frowning and not breathing and looking to me with a pained glance. I gave her a look as if to say I thought you were used to this crowd. As the ride continued the woman pushed in further and found a perfect spot on my lap.

As we talked together in our mixed Gujarati and English, Hanabehn began seeing me as a local, entirely different from the foreigners she saw surrounding her. She began commenting on how I looked different from them and I did not have the same bad habits as them. I also saw the separation of myself from the foreigners and began wondering how I will fit into my home again. Will a part of me always see the world with my new rural Gujarati perspective or after going home will I only see with an American view of the world. Through this journey I have realized how I have grown and changed in my new life and this realization was both surprising and enlightening.

A Bicycle Built for Two?

2010-01-21T20:33:00.000-08:00

A 10th standard student has been pestering us for about 3 months to go to his house in a neighboring village. Finally, we cleared our weekend to head out to a village only reachable by bicycle on Saturday. This turned out to be one of the best days I've had in a long time.

It began with a slow Saturday morning without any classes. Addaia and I had asked for a second bike the night before and were patiently waiting around for it to appear on our front porch as we sipped our second cup of morning coffee. Eventually, and unsurprisingly, the school bell rang and we were still without a second bicycle. Yeshpal, the student, came to our porch at 11:30 on the nose and asked if we were ready. "Um, sure thing. We can fit on one bicycle, right?"

The scenery on our ten kilometer ride was so beautiful, we were really upset we didn't bring our cameras. We told Yeshpal how lucky he was to live in such a beautiful place and all he said in response was:

"Yes, teacher. I am afraid."

"Um, what?"

"...of the tigers. There are many tigers in these fields."

"Excuse us... did you say, tigers? Like big, carnivorous cats?"

"Yes, teacher. Many dogs are (hand signal for killing)."

(a later shot of the same area)

Well, at least we were on a bicycle, we thought. No use in worrying now, but Addaia began to pedal a little bit faster. This, of course, only gained us more attention as two American women squeezed onto one rickety bicycle going as fast as we could to a village in the middle of nowhere.

Before leaving, we had asked if we should bring some filtered water. "Oh no, teacher. We have Bisleri water." After our bike ride all the way to his house in the mid-day sun we are given water. After half a glass, we are told "Oh, teacher. This is not filtered water. We have no Bisleri water." Amoebic dysentery here we come!

Eventually, after eating delicious bananas straight off the tree, we ended up going down to the river with Yeshpal and his friends. "Miss, you swim?" chided one of the boys. Well, we can put our feet in, we thought. Ten minutes later, we were swimming in our salwar khameezes with water buffalo and cows. Literally. We only decided to get out of the water when the cows began to pee into the small pool we shared.

After we got out of the water, we were joined by three of our female students who took us to their house to eat a delicious lunch of Gujarati thali and more non-Bisleri water. The students seemed to be taking shifts with us. Every 5 minutes a new girl would come into the kitchen with two flowers, the previous one would leave, and we would begin another conversation about school and their village.

We finally told the students: "Only one more house, then we must go home." This of course turned into three more houses in a village 5 kilometers in the other direction from Kadod, more unfiltered water, sugary sodas, and chai. By this point, our stomachs were beginning to rumble as we braced ourselves for the 45 minute ride home.

Now, I don't know if you realize this, but this whole time Addaia and I are riding on a rickety old bicycle, she is pedaling and working hard to carry both of our weights and I am attempting to balance myself on an unpadded metal bar over the wheel. Meanwhile, I must suspend my legs just above the ground while using my arms to try to brace myself while we hit the many bumps in the Indian roads between the two villages. Not the most comfortable bike ride in the world...

(the bike we rode on, note the back wire rack where I sat for nearly 3 hours that day)

In the end, it was a great day spent with students and friends. We have already made plans to return to their beautiful village. Maybe next time, we'll borrow a motorbike instead...

The Girls are Growing in Confidence

2010-01-19T02:22:00.000-08:00

The weeks leading up to the Spoken English drama completion were intense. The most intensity was coming from my afternoon girls’ class. They were so ambitious; they wanted to undertake a play, a dance, and a song. The girls wanted to come to my house to practice on the weekends and each and every day they would ask me, “What are we going to wear teacher.” We stayed late every class preparing decorations and perfecting the play and the dance. I encouraged their ambition and excitement to want to perform on stage.

These bold girls are completely out of the ordinary for Bajipura High School. In my 9A class each and every day I have to fight with the girls to answer questions. I will ask a question and there will be around 20 hands that shoot up from the boys’ side. They squirm in their seat and make pleading noises, but I look at the girls’ side and there is never a single hand in the air. They will never volunteer to participate in class activities and even if their name is mentioned sometimes they become embarrassed and put their head down on their desk. I am continually asking the girls to show their bravery. On one occasion I asked them to make a loud tough sound, so they could show me their strength and courage. Around two students participated in this silly activity and the other students sat in their seats looking flushed.

It is completely different with my Spoken English girls. They are in a classroom of their own with no boys to compete with and their confidence in English is growing every day. Girls throughout the school are serious about their studies, but they only keep their nose in their books and do not speak their knowledge. My girls are achieving great things because they are both hard working like the other girls, but also confident enough to speak what they know.

I enjoy my morning and afternoon classes equally, but I really wanted my girls’ afternoon class to win the drama competition. It was more difficult for my girls; their skill level is not as high as many of the boys in my morning class. They also do not have the natural acting skills that the over confident and expressive boys have. Even though they were the underdogs, they worked so hard I thought they might be able to finish first.

On competition day all the groups performed well. They all came on the stage and gave their best performances. All classes did their best, except my girls’ class. Although the boys have had so many experiences being the leaders of the classroom and of the school, for many of the girls this was their first time on stage. I think my girls’ class could not do their best because they did not have the practice that the boys have had speaking in front of the whole school.

As the winners of the completion were announced I had butterflies in my stomach. Third place went to Drew’s boys class, and then second place went Drew’s boys class, when they were going to announce first I just knew that my girls had lost. Sure enough they announced the winner as my morning class. I wanted to be happy for my students, but I looked over at my girls and could see them crushed by the announcement.

My first thought was that this was going to ruin the girls’ aspiration to be leaders in their school. I was so nervous that this experience may be their last time stepping out and taking a chance to work hard for their success as leaders of their school community. In fact, it turned out that their reaction was quite the opposite. I had a copy of their dance, song, and play recorded and they ask me each and every day when they can have the video of their performance. Many of the girls told me that their parents were so proud of them and in their faces I can see the pride they have in themselves. I truly feel like I have contributed to these girls stepping out of the quiet and reserved mold that Indian girls so often fit. After this experience I hope these girls will step up and be the leaders for other girls. Soon maybe more girls will start performing at the top of their class and pursuing the same professions as the boys. It is amazing how one small leadership opportunity can change a child’s view of them self.

Lions, Tigers and Bears! Oh, My!

2010-01-17T23:00:00.000-08:00

Actually its more like Jaguars, snakes and donkeys, but I believe the latter is equally frightening. No, this isn't an irrational fear. I run into snakes and packs of donkeys each day during my marathon training runs. I must say I was a bit nervous the first couple of times I set out-I had never run into so much wildlife and seeing snakes in the wild is a bit daunting. At this point I was still okay with the idea of running through the sugar fields and encountering them from time to time, until we found out about the jaguars.
Last week a student invited Kathryn and I to his village for lunch. He told us we would have to take bicycles because his village was about 15 KM away. Since we knew the principal had bikes, we didn't worry about it until the day came and we had to go and borrow them. Just as our luck would have it, the principal was out and we had no bikes. We decided that our best and only option would be a bike that had been sitting on our porch for what appears to be a few decades, growing a thick layer of dust, cobwebs. Already being a huge spectacle in Kadod, Kathryn and I attracted even more attention to ourselves while struggling to maintain balance on one bicycle.
As we began to more comfortable with our riding arrangement, we began to admire the scenery. Rural India is a beautiful place and I'm really lucky to have the opportunity to live in a place so beautiful. As we remarked on the beauty of the landscape and green plantations our student pedaling in front of us turned and said, "Yes Miss, Very Beautiful, but very very scary." We questioned him about it and he told us that many times as he rides to school and back every morning he sees many Jaguars and that they have a tendency to attack livestock and villagers. Upon hearing this, I began to pedal a bit faster. We spent a wonderful day in his village eating with our students, playing in the river and making many house calls. The story of the jaguars remained with me.
That week I continued my training routine of running in the early mornings before school. It starts off with passing by the hostel housing many of the male students. This morning I mentioned the story of the Jaguars as I passed by, and how I was a bit worried about running through the fields now that I knew there were jaguars lurking in the fields. My spoken English boys agreed and told me a story about his father being attacked on his farm . His family, with the help of a few neighbors beat the jaguar to death, but almost killing his father in the process. At that point it was too much, I decided they were messing with me and told them I didn't believe them.
To my surprise the next morning the students triumphantly entered class armed with a copy of the article describing the event from the local newspaper. They had even gone to the trouble of translating it to English so I would be able to understand it. I was amazed by the time they had taken to translate the article and bring it to me. I was having a pretty difficult week with many of my classes being taken over to prepare for exams, this act brightened my mood and renewed a sense of purpose.

A Mother's Will

2010-01-13T05:18:00.000-08:00

As India’s rural education develops, it is making progress towards the educational needs of its children and future. One area that seems to be lagging behind in the rural segment is providing specific instruction and support for children with special needs. I know this area will garner more attention in the future, but at the present time, there seems to be a greater focus on other areas. Families are forced to cope as best they can to provide for their children if they do fall into this category, and I saw a most prevalent display recently of just such a commitment.

We have a student in the 4th standard at our school by the name of Nishal, and while he has the same twinkle in his eye as many of his fellow classmates, his body does not cooperate to allow him to keep up with them. Nishal has a developmental disorder that restricts his motor function, but it does not dampen his spirit for learning and enjoying life. I had seen his mother carrying him into school from the car, but not working specifically with the primary students, I did not have much interaction with his class. Recently, however, I was walking past a classroom, and I noticed him sitting there with his mother. It is the moment when you just want to stand there and smile because it is true love in action. His classmates had gone out for physical education class, and his mother was sitting next to him, gently holding his hand and helping him to write some words in Gujarati. He had a specially fitted pencil to enlarge the gripping area so that he did not have to close his hand tightly around a normal pencil. There was patience and love in her eyes as her hand guided his through the soft curves of each word.

This example underscores a larger issue with educational systems around the world- so many times, parents just want to plug children into the system and hope for the best. Special needs or not, our children require active parental involvement in their formative education. We don’t often get to see this role played out as dramatically, as in the example of Nishal- a mother’s love, sacrifice and determination willing her son to a better future and productive life. She does not ask herself- Why? I am sure that as she has tried to help him with his lessons, she has learned just as many lessons about life from him as well. Worrying and fretting are be of no benefit, as there are still more words to write, and only a son’s determination along with a mother’s will is going to accomplish the task.

Flex Your English Muscles

2010-01-13T04:53:00.000-08:00

While it does not present a problem to get students to participate in class, it can be somewhat difficult to get them to use English on a more consistent basis. We don’t always have the longest class periods to teach our lessons, and with schedules changing due to school activities, the time in class can be really short.

Most people wish to be able to speak other languages, but few people are willing to put in the time and hard work to actually speak another language well. I like to begin by asking the students if they speak Gujarati well- it is always a resounding YES!! I then ask if they can understand Gujarati well- again, an emphatic YES!! I ask them to indulge me again, and I ask them if they can read and write Gujarati well…..The response is a laughing- Of Course YES!! I then ask them …..why? They are quick to respond that it is their mother tongue, so naturally, they can speak, understand, read and write it well. I ask them what a typical day involves, and I ask them to think about all of the situations throughout a day that they encounter that language. We really never think about it, as we just take it for granted that our newspaper will be in our native language, our TV news will be in our native language, at the store, the clerk will speak our native language- the list can be almost indefinite. It takes time to learn a language, and it takes submersion in a language to really become proficient at it. Yes, there are some exceptional people that can learn by themselves, but I think time and being submerged can really speed up the process.

I then ask the students to think about their own experience in learning English. Most of them have come up in a system where they try to learn a language only in the classroom during small time intervals. Some of that time, they have spent talking in Gujarati, so the actual time of English submersion is less than the time spent in class. I then ask them to Flex Their English Muscles. You may be asking- What? I ask them to strike a flexing pose, which is followed by giggling. Some of the boys really take it seriously. I then ask them to tell me what goes into making a muscle big and strong. They respond with exercise, weight lifting, proper nutrition, and time dedicated to these practices. I respond- exactly, and I go on to point out that their language abilities are very similar to muscles. We have to push ourselves beyond normal comfort levels. You can not practice the same words over and over and expect your vocabulary to improve. You have to try new and possibly more difficult words to expand your vocabulary. This is very similar to lifting heavier weights in order to push your muscles further and getting them to grow bigger and stronger. Just like actual exercise, this pushing to build vocabulary is not always comfortable or easy- possibly even exhausting at times. It does help to build language abilities though. It also takes time- people want to wave a magic wand and learn a new language.

It takes time and dedication to learn a language, and the commitment never stops. I ask the students what happens to muscles that may have been big at one time, but then are not used and go without exercise for a long time. They respond that they get weaker and smaller. That is true about language too- if students take a long break, a holiday vacation for instance, and they do not practice English, they tend to regress a bit in their language abilities. Without that constant stimulation of a second language, our mind tends to settle back into the daily routine of our native language.

The students tend to enjoy the little talk- especially the flexing part. I hope they continue to flex their English muscles on a daily basis, and I really do think it will help to build up their English abilities.

Authentic Learning Inspires and Empowers

2010-01-01T20:35:00.000-08:00

My students chase after me down the hall saying, “Meghan teacher, Meghan teacher, what will we wear for the drama.” Ever since I have set the date for our English drama program it is all the students talk about. Even though I am half the world away from my teaching experience in the US, I am reminded of my Citizen Schools students last year as we prepared for the WOW! Presentation, or the event where they present their learning and projects to the community. We are so far away, but the response to such activities is always the same, one of complete excitement and empowerment. The fact that authentic products inspire students where ever you are in the world is proof enough to me that is one of the best methodologies of teaching that one can implement.

Many times while teaching in traditional lessons teachers are continually trying to encourage their students to speak out, but they only sit uninspired without speaking. Teachers constantly need to be the source of energy in the classroom, while the students sit idle. When students are learning through authentic teaching methods then the teacher is being inspired by their students. There is no possible way that I can maintain the energy that my students have for their drama practice. Each day they are developing new ideas and changes to make the drama better and ask to meet me Saturday and Sunday to practice. The students are able to improve their understanding, expression and confidence of the English language without even realizing that they are working.

One group has developed a quiz titled Indian Discovery. My students are playing various famous Indian actors and actresses. I worked with them tirelessly to write the script and now they have so much pride in their work and all think their jokes are hilariously funny. If I had written it for them they would certainly not have the same amount of energy and interest to perform the drama.

My afternoon class read “Twas the Night Before Christmas” and developed their own dramatic version of it. This class is a lower level, but they were still able to write their own script. Complete with voices from 8 reindeer, Santa, mother, father, and two children. The girls have already memorized their lines with only some encouragement from me. While they are very serious about the drama, my girls are just the same as adolescent girls in the United States; their biggest concern is what they will be wearing. Even with my students obsession with their dress I am proud of my class because they do not behave like the stereotypical girls from India. They are outgoing and willing to step out and be noticed for their talent and hard work. I don’t feel solely responsible for their difference in personality, but I do feel I helped encourage their nature that is hidden within. Being given opportunities to take charge, they become powerful and find the confidence to compete with all students, even the domineering boys.

Having realized the importance of authentic learning experiences and the impact they have had on my students in both Citizen Schools and here in India I would really like to undertake more projects. There is a primary government school not so far from Bajipuara High School where students are not awarded the same opportunities that the students at Bajipura High School primary school have. At the primary level, in government schools many students are not given a quality education and therefore when they come to the secondary level they are already much behind students that have attended private schools. I want the next project for my Spoken English Classes to be going and teaching lessons in English at this school. The students can teach simple things such as colors, numbers, days of week etc. I think this opportunity would really help my students feel empowered by their newly acquired expertise in English. Please look forward to more updates on real authentic learning occurring in rural India at Bajipura High School!

An experiment in creative thinking

2009-12-28T22:14:00.001-08:00

I grew up on creative activities. Acting out impromptu plays and creating weird works of art were parts of my everyday life. In school, we were encouraged to write creative stories. I even competed annually with my friends in Odyssey of the Mind, a competition between schools which awards points solely based on the students' creativity. All of my fondest memories of middle school fall around these activities which allowed us to learn while being silly. After observing the students of Kadod High School for just a short time, I knew there was none of this teaching philosophy in the Gujarati school system. Luckily, we are able to encourage thinking creatively in our Spoken English classes before and after school, but my brilliant 8th standard students are simply encouraged to regurgitate everything they hear from the teacher.

Just last week, I was excited to find an activity in their textbook that asked the students to complete a story for themselves. While they all had guidebooks that gave them one answer, I asked them to brainstorm some other outcomes as a class. There was a long silence in the classroom, and then:

Me: "Come on! Be creative! Help me to finish the story!"
(murmurs and quotes from the textbook)
Me: "Okay, who can tell me what 'creative' means?"
Chorus of 8th standard kids: "To produce!"
(Co-teacher nods proudly)
Me: "..."

Finally, after coming up with some ridiculous conclusions of my own, the students got the idea and began giving slight alterations of my stories. After this interaction, I was determined to have a class in which we were all silly and creative.

The next week, I came to class equipped with a Gujarati word for 'creative', several household items, and the determination to get these kids thinking outside-the-box. We were going to think of all the different uses for umbrellas, hairbrushes, rackets, and dupattas, among other things. By the end of the class, the students were doing pretty well for themselves, telling me that a dupatta could be used for a jump-rope, a hairbrush handle could roll chapatis, and even that an umbrella could be used as a boat. Excited by this development, I pushed the students further. I explained to them that for homework, they would write a television advertisement for any object in their house. The most creative and silly ad would win a small prize. As we left class for lunch, the students were all excited for the project and murmuring about what they would choose to write about.

The next day I was excited to collect the ads and read what the students had written. Unfortunately, my excitement was cut short as I noticed that the first 10 papers I had collected were all exactly the same. As I continued around the class, I became more and more dejected as I saw the students copying a story directly from their textbook entitled "The Invention of the Umbrella." In the end, 5 students wrote really great ads, and 50 students rewrote "The Invention of the Umbrella."

I am determined to continue on my quest to get these students thinking creatively, but it seems that it will be a long road ahead. In the meantime, every little independent thought counts for so much.

Lesson Planning..

2009-12-28T17:44:00.000-08:00

As overwhelming as all the advanced class preparation is sometimes, it's wonderful how alleviating it is to just see everything fit together in a basic, flexible schedule for the time to come. Unfortunately, it often looks great laid out on paper, but attempting to implement these more meticulously planned lessons can also be unsuccessful. My experiences thus far, especially here with the massive class sizes, has taught me although you do need to plan lessons a lot of teaching here is thinking on your feet and shaping what you have to fit the particular classroom. As I get to know my students and classes better, it is easier to tweak and gear lessons based on their abilities. I find it a little bit surprising too how so many small miscellaneous tasks seem to fill up so much time that I would otherwise be planning activities for.
With the holidays and a school trip, the past month has flown by. While planning, I can almost feel the next couple weeks whizzing past me already. All planning aside, here's a little taste in pictures of some of the things we've been up to here in Kadod the past few weeks. ..

So this is Christmas

2009-12-28T01:47:00.000-08:00

Last week in my Spoken English class we spent a lot of time talking about Christmas, which seemed a little unreal to me. In India it feels nothing like winter, let alone Christmas time. I still think it is baseball season in America and that my parents, who are both teachers, are on summer vacation. In the Land of the Perpetual Sun, it is difficult for me to imagine people in America bundled up, building snowmen, Christmas shopping, and spending time inside with family and friends to take refuge from the cold weather.

Explaining and planning lessons around the Christmas theme made it a little easier for me to get in the Christmas mood. The students here all know about Christmas, but in our little village they have never had an opportunity to hear about it from a Westerner’s point of view. I have to admit that the more I talked about how Christmas is celebrated, the more ridiculous it sounded to me. When asked who Santa Claus was, I first tried explaining about Saint Nicolas, the Patron Saint of Children but this was of little interest to them; they wanted to hear about the red suit, red cap, and the bag of gifts they have seen in pictures. As I talked about how Santa flies around the world in a sleigh and enters every home through the chimney to deposit gifts under the tree and into the stockings hung by the chimney (with care) their expressions became more and more contorted into a face that seemed to be saying “Huh?”

In my class we made Christmas ornaments out of pipe cleaners and it was a lot of fun to see the students use their creativity. At first when I handed out the pipe cleaners they kept asking me “Teacher, what do I do with it?” “Anything!” I replied as I showed them how to bend and twist them into different shapes. As they caught on to the pipe cleaners’ possibilities there was no stopping them. Then, on Christmas Eve we made Christmas cards and chaos reined my classroom. I spent time the week before cutting out different shapes and preparing all the materials, which included some glitter that was sent from America (thanks mom!). The glitter was by far the most used material and the desks and floor of the classroom sparkled with the remnants of their creations.

The culmination of the Christmas week was our Christmas Party. The students took full control of the planning as they ordered food and a cake and talked to the Principal about wearing red clothes in lieu of their uniforms. I was not allowed into the assembly hall until everything was just perfect. They even managed to find snow spray and as I entered we were all covered in wet, foamy snow. As I cut my Christmas cake the students sang We Wish You a Merry Christmas before I blew out the candles. Then, every student fed me a piece of cake, and then smeared a little frosting on my face. I had a lot of fun celebrating with my students and I appreciate their efforts to make my Christmas a very merry one!

Video can be seen here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a08VIxFrWzQ

Christmas in Surat

2009-12-27T11:40:00.000-08:00

While there are various forms of Santa Claus to be found around the world, the Indian Santa Claus may win the title of “Most Fearsome.” If you thought a Santa Claus on each street corner was excessive, try multiple Santas swarming about in the same room in the mall, all wearing nightmarish Santa Masks with frozen gleeful grins and little beady eyes. The Santa masks are rather scary and awkward, yes, but the worst we’ve seen is a Santa who didn’t have a mask but still tried to “lighten” himself up a bit. Standing on the side of the road, one thin Santa had cleverly covered his face with streaky, clownish-white paint, through which his true skin color was still apparent. The effect was something like a ghoul in a Santa suit. Passing him in a rickshaw Pamela suddenly let out a cry:

“Oh my gosh! Did you see that Santa? That’s the scariest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. No WONDER none of the kids believe in Santa here!”

Yet while it’s true that Santa has few followers, there’s still a bit of youthful innocence to be tapped. During the Christmas celebrations that P.R. Khatiwala had on Christmas Eve, the day was mostly full of ruckus, but a few precious moments were interspersed: among them, my class period with 4-B, my best-behaved class.

Earlier in the week I’d given the class a taste of some Christmas Carols. I had printed out some choice carols to share with my classes and passed the sheets out to the students, and we tried singing “Deck the Halls.” Since it created too much commotion I had taken the sheets back, but 4-B was ready to try again on the day of the Christmas celebrations, and as soon as I walked in they greeted me with,

“MA’AM! WE CAN SING TODAY?”

So I passed out the sheets and we sang some rather successful renditions of Rudolph, Deck the Halls, and had just started Joy to the World when I was interrupted by some students asking for a definition.

“Ma’am, what does this word mean? Reedulf?”

I frowned. “Which word?”

A student ran up to me, sheet in hand, to point out the word.

“Ohhhh, Rudolph! It’s the name of the reindeer. Do you know the story of Rudolph?” I looked around the room at all the blank stares.

“No? Well, I’ll tell it to you then. You can put down the music. If you’re quiet I can tell you the story of Rudolph.”

Thankfully, I watched that movie obsessively each year at Christmas time (there are few movies I’m willing to watch multiple times, but I loved the holiday classics) so was able to modify and abbreviate the story for the class.

First, I asked if they knew how many reindeer Santa had. I didn’t really expect an answer, but one girl raised her hand and called out decisively, “Nine!”

“Exactly. How did you know?”

“Because in the pictures of Santa there are nine reindeer.”

Observant girl. “Yes, Santa has nine reindeer. But he didn’t always have nine reindeer. He used to have only eight. This is the story of Rudolph, a young reindeer who lived at the North Pole. He dreamed of someday pulling Santa’s sleigh, but he was different from the other reindeer…”

The class listened attentively to the story and gasped in all the right places. (“Do you know the abominable snowman? He isn’t really a snowman… he’s the scariest monster in the North Pole! He is covered with white fur so he looks like snow, but he is eight feet tall and has one hundred teeth!” [COLLECTIVE GASP])

At the end of the story, which covered the island of the misfit toys and Rudolph’s triumphant placement at the head of the sleigh on Christmas Eve, one (noisy) boy tentatively raised his hand and said, “Ma’am, this story is true?”

“Yes, it’s true.”

“But… reindeer can fly?”

“No, no. Not all reindeer can fly. Only Santa’s reindeer can fly.”

“Ohh.”

So despite being far away from home, I felt a bit of the magic of Christmas then.

My class party, however, was another sphere entirely.

(They look so cute, huh?)

Funny to think that in the U.S., class parties mean generally sitting around with good behavior, waiting to be served food and drinks (or perhaps lining up for them in a more or less orderly manner) and talking and goofing off at a reasonable volume. At least, that’s what I remember from my school days.

Here, it’s total chaos.

I mean, Indians DO know how to throw a party. But when it’s me versus the 28 terrible ten-year-olds, my eardrums can only take so much. Trying to serve snacks was probably the worst part of the day. I did my best to instill some order (“I’m going to dish up all the plates, and then you can take them”) but as soon as I would dish up one plate, little boys would be crowded all around me, stealing food from all the plates, and as soon as I looked their way I would see that one dish of food was already empty. I tried making an assembly line and having them go through it while some assigned helpers dished up food. Still people were stealing more than their fair share of food. The smaller kids, the quiet kids, and the girls complained to me from the sidelines, “Ma’am! I’m not getting any food!” while I struggled to deliver snacks to them.

(Boys clamoring to be in the picture)

Giving up on the food and leaving them to their battle, I progressed to the drinks, and tried to issue some kind of structure again, even as entire two-liter bottles would disappear to the back of the room, smuggled into some boy’s bag. “Hey! Who took the Pepsi??” I would yell, as a group of girls would scurry off to try to wrestle it back for me. Unable to get them to settle down until I had poured all the cups, I eventually settled for the path of least resistance: filling the plastic cup that was shoved closest to my eyeballs so it would get out of my face.

(Most of my girls)

By the end of the day my class literally looked like a dustbin (as one of my students helpfully pointed out). The floor was wet and slippery from some clever boys who wanted to do the moonwalk so slicked up the already dirty floor. At one point during the day three of the boys ended up shirtless (I’m still not sure why) and an entire cake was devoured by a few students when I had to leave the room for a few minutes.

Still, when I danced with them toward the end of the day, it ALMOST felt like the party was a success. They do throw fine dance parties, and my kids really loved it that I was willing to dance with them.

For the next party, I might have to do what the other teachers seem to do, and just let them have at it. I’ll let the girls go first, but then it’ll just be survival of the fittest.

But those who beat others won’t get any food. Going without snacks may be the worst punishment for a kid in Surat. Surtis really do love their food.

(Some leftovers)

Namaste,
Dalena

At Last, An Update!

2009-12-27T11:35:00.000-08:00

Dear readers and supporters of Nanubhai,

Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year!

I know Pamela and I have been the invisible members of the Nanubhai blogging world lately. This is because, after returning from Diwali, we were given a brand-new set of responsibilities by the English medium principal, and our lives have revolved around getting adjusted to our new schedule and finding our groove again. I don’t know if I’m exactly ‘grooving’ yet, but at least I have an extra day to the weekend this week, so I can sit down and write to you. (Pamela, on the other hand, is off on “Adventure Camp” with a throng of our students, swimming and having wilderness survival activities… etc.)

To reduce the last month and a half to a brief paragraph:

Our responsibilities underwent an overhaul when the English medium principal lost a couple of senior teachers to inter-continental moves and pregnancies. Without anywhere else to turn, she quickly assigned us the responsibilities that these teachers had dropped—specifically, we are now “Class Teachers” in the 5th Standard, which means we’re responsible for the progress of our classes, administering discipline, and being responsible for any extra activities that our classes may participate in. This also means that I now teach 4th and 5th standard English and English grammar, 5th standard Social Studies, and 8th standard GK (General Knowledge). Pamela teaches Maths, Social Studies, and 4th standard GK. Because of the drastically increased preparation time that goes along with these responsibilities and the extra teaching load during the day, we do not teach in the Gujarati medium anymore. We also work on our own in the classroom, because a lack of available teachers has prevented us from having co-teachers. Thus, all subsequent updates will be about our work solely in the English medium.

My class, 5-A, isn’t exactly huge (just 35 students) but it is disproportionate. Disproportionately full of little boys, that is. Out of 35, 28 are boys and 7 are girls. If only it were the other way around! My 7 girls are almost always wonderful, attentive, and well-behaved, while the boys mercilessly beat each other with any implements they can find (most often body parts, but sometimes pencils, rulers, compasses, water bottles, and so on). I assume this must partly be the influence of some of their teachers (I’ve witnessed one lady who teaches them after me walk around with a ruler in hand, whacking anyone who seems to need it), but this doesn’t make for a very smooth running class.

I’ve tried to implement some punishments for too much “beating” (as they call it) in the class, but these new tactics seem like a game opportunity to them, since they’re novel and, compared to getting hit with a ruler, fairly lenient. I tried to have any student I found beating each other write a phrase twenty times in their notebooks. The phrase was, “Violence always leads to more violence. I will not beat others because I do not want to be beaten.” It worked for a couple of days, but quickly became a fun way to rat out your friends and make fun of them for having to write it in their notebooks. Rather than discouraging the violence, it just resulted in gleeful cries of “Violence! Twenty times! Twenty times!” throughout the room. I’m still in the process of working out something more effective.

Anyway, to move on to a more specific update, I’m going to tackle the latest and greatest festival to roll through Surat: Christmas.

Chalo! Chalo! Chalo!

2009-12-20T00:53:00.000-08:00

Chalo! This word can pretty much sum up the past five days. I don't think I've ever heard a word more in my entire life. I believe it is a combination of go, faster, move and come on. It was shouted at us constantly from every direction and mouth surrounding us for the past five days.

This past week Ms. Kathryn and I embarked on a journey to Rajasthan with 250 of our students. We were a bit apprehensive after hearing the other fellows filed Trip experiences, but we were excited nonetheless. This trip gave us the opportunity to see an incredible part of India, bond with fellow teachers and students, and even practice some language skills.

Around 8 PM it looked as if all of Kadod and the surrounding villages had come to the school courtyard to wish their farewells. We boarded our buses at 10 PM along with hundreds of worried, anxious parents who refused to leave their children's side until the bus left, be it on, or plastered against the side of the bus. Our bus began its 20hour journey at 12 p.m. We, of course, being teachers, had front-row seats. Also, in hindsight, not the greatest idea when you think about the proximity to the view of the road and speakers. It's not easy to describe just how terrifying Indian bus drivers are. Every single one of them owns the road, drives on any side they please and passes everything. There can be oncoming trucks with their lights flashing angrily at us, and we'll still pull into the lane to pass it. And no matter what time of night, no matter how far away from civilization, there are trucks and motorcycles and bicycles on the roads. Oh, and the roads are super bumpy. I'm pretty sure the one and only driving rule here is: everyone else yields to the biggest vehicle, because if you don't that will be the end of you. Buses basically yield to nothing, cars, trucks, bikes, motorcycles, rickshaws and vans yield to us. The only things that don't yield are cows and donkeys, so avoiding them consists of an immense swerve. One would think that a bus carrying double the maximum capacity of students would exercise a bit more caution. Not so much, the bus ride was 90 students hopped up on soda and candy taking part in a giant dance party accompanied by blasting Hindi tunes.

We weren't sure where our role as chaperons would lie, but we quickly discovered that we were also being chaperoned. The teachers were extremely worried for our safety, and thought that due to Rajasthan's location if we strayed from eyesight we would immediately be abducted. This slightly irrational, but sweet paranoia warranted constant supervision and personal body guards ranging from 10-14 years old. Our role in the group seemed to be more entertainment and fun for the students, rather than authority figures. We got to talk and hang out with our students outside of the classroom, which lead to a lot of joking and games. We attempted to make relationships with some of our naughtier students to hopefully alleviate some classroom management difficulties. They really made an effort to speak to us in English and help us in any way they could. They were not only body guards, but translators and guides. We saw incredible temples, museums, palaces, forts and awesome views.

After the exhausting trip we were ready to sleep in our own beds. Sleep deprived with runny noses, but satisfied with our journey. The trip was an amazing experience and left us with some great memories, loss of hearning, and some new friends.

Saying Goodbye Is Hard In Any Language

2009-12-18T21:54:00.000-08:00

We recently attended a memorial service for one of our fellow Indian teachers that lost his wife. The two teachers at Madhi had formed a special bond with this teacher, and although we knew that our words could offer little comfort, we felt that our presence would be appreciated. We arrived in Bardoli, not really knowing what to expect, but as we approached the apartment building, we could see people gathered in the outdoor lobby of the building. One could not help but wonder how this experience would be different than what we would experience at a similar service in the US. It is amazing though how a sense of loss reveals our human nature, and that is a common tie that binds us all. It is in loss that our humanity is laid bare, and it is a common thread that unites us all and with which we can all relate.

We removed our shoes, and we greeted the teacher. His eyes had a sorrowful look, as one would expect, but there was a twinkle of gratitude as well. We introduced us to his son, and they were both very gracious as they introduced us to fellow family and friends. The male relatives had all shaved their hair to indicate a severance and remorse for the loss. Wife, mother, daughter, sister, niece, friend…..She was so much to so many people, and it also helps us in reflection of what role we play in the lives of people present in our own life. People sat around on rugs comforting each other- crying on shoulders, sharing stories and catching up with others that they may not see very often.

At the front of the room, there was a table with her picture surrounded with some incense and flowers. People would walk by to offer a kind word and to remember the good times and memories of a life that had ended too soon. We were then invited to join in a meal, and we sat on the rugs eating their generous offering. We were offered a spoon and a seat in a chair if we wished, but it did not feel right. We just wanted to blend in, if that is really possible, and not be treated as special guests, but rather as just concerned friends that had come to offer support in a time of grief. After the meal, we visited a bit longer, and then politely excused ourselves. The son escorted us to the bus station to make sure that we got on the proper bus- We appreciated it, but I am sure we would have felt better if he had spent the time with his family instead of making sure we were ok. We explained that to him, but he said his mom would have wanted him to help us. It was a fitting tribute to honor the loss of a loved one, as we can all appreciate how hard it can be to say goodbye- no matter the language.

*Out of respect for the family, no pictures were take at the memorial service.

Running For A Cause

2009-12-18T09:19:00.000-08:00

Nanubhai Fellows have spent a lot of time this year working to start and improve libraries in their schools, and are interested in their continued success. The seed for these libraries was the generous donation and shipment of children's picture books from the US, but the Fellows have seen need for other types of materials in these rural classrooms.

Students are often presented with assignments that require research and even want to peruse the small libraries for books to support their assignments. As is often common in rural areas, up-to-date material like this is lacking. I recall the now famous story of 15-year old William Kamkwamba, who used rough plans from a library book to build working windmills to generate electricity for his house. Clearly, as picture books have been useful for closing the literacy gap for our students, access to current nonfiction will serve to narrow a similar gap.

In short, there are seven of us running our marathons to raise money to purchase three things: new books on specific topics of interest in the libraries at Madhi, Bajipura, and Kadod; computer encyclopedia software; and a computer for dedicated research use. We hope you will support our efforts to improve rural access to modern informational resources.

You can track our progress on our new blog: http://www.21k4kids.com/

Hard Work Pays Off

2009-12-17T02:40:00.000-08:00

I am so excited to share with you successes we are seeing at Madhi HS! These past few weeks have been busy, to say the least. I have started getting comments from the other teachers; "Miss Kitty, you are always running here and there. Why don't you sit down and take rest?" Well, I wonder that myself sometimes but the generally insane way I rush about my days; crossing the courtyard of school to the library at least 15 times a day, has been worth while!

The Spoken English curriculum that we use in our schools is generally geared for a classroom size of 20 students. This would be ideal but I can't remember a single day in the last 6 months of my class meeting daily where this has been the case. I have a group of 35 regular attenders who are always eager and excited. Due to the size, I often have to tweak lesson plans here and there to adapt them to fit the needs of my class. Sometimes, my changes are a complete failure and I note to myself and for the fellows who will eventually replace me in this job, what has gone wrong. Other times, as with this last unit, there is sweet success. It has come with a price - my time - but, seeing those boys on the stage yesterday has made it all worthwhile. And, I would do it again.

We have been learning how, as groups, to prepare a lesson plan or a public service announcement and to try and give it during the school day. I split my large class into several groups and gave them all subjects that they could write on. We had just been talking about how to give advice as well as how to stay healthy during the H1N1 crisis/flu season. On top of having a pretty large class, the students in it are all at very different language levels. I really wanted to challenge some of them and expect a lot from them knowing that they were fully capable of the task. I chose a group of 5 boys; Dhaval, Meet, Krunal, Nirmal and Rahul plus the "Advisor", Ashok, to present a public service announcement to the school during morning assembly. When I told them where they would be presenting their speech their eyes got big and in them I saw not only apprehension, but excitement.

The big day arrived. After many run throughs both in our class and Lyndi's 9th standard class, I knew that they were ready. Sitting nervously on the stage while the morning prayer was being sung, I saw a few of their mouths moving in rehearsal of their lines. Finally, it was their turn. My stomach turned a little and I realized that I was nervous for them. Well, I needn't have been because they were all perfection. Confidently, they stood in front of their peers, their principal and their teachers, speaking their lines clearly and self-assuredly. Their hard work was met by large applause and congratulations throughout the day and my pride in them grew as the day went on.

Many teachers came up to me throughout the day to tell me that I had been a very good English coach to the boys; my co-teachers were impressed by the level of language confidence and growth in students they have worked with for many years.

The Nanubhai program is seeing successes every day in Gujarat. Some days, we are frustrated by the challenges but even through them, we are seeing successes large and small. Today was a huge accomplishment for my Spoken English class and the hours spent working with these students seems like such a minor detail. This is the impact I am seeing at Madhi High School before one year is even completed, before the test results are even in, and before I have stepped backed to evaluate the progress of the students Lyndi and I work with here. The confidence it took for these boys to stand and speak in a language not their own in front of upwards of 600 people is a great success both for them and Nanubhai.

Imagine what we could do given a few more years, dedicated teachers, and the support of our community both here in India and abroad?

Watch the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o6mrY17OQ24

An unfortunate coincidence

2009-12-15T08:37:00.000-08:00

Today I was given a new name. Why? It’s a funny story that I will tell, but only because I have a tendency to be self-deprecating. Promise not to laugh too hard at my expense. Promise? Okay…

In Gujarati, Lyndi means . . . . ready for this? . . . . goat poop. Yep. Goat poop. You just can’t make that stuff up. Hilarious, I know. Okay, stop laughing! I almost didn’t believe Meghan when she came home from school and told me that her principal laughs hysterically every time my name comes up in conversation. She finally asked what was so funny and he replied “In Gujarati Lyndi is poop of the goat!”

I couldn’t believe it! Why people neglected to tell me this until my 6 month here (my 6th day would have been preferable) is beyond me. I went to school to ask the teachers I work with if it was true; surely they would have told me of this unfortunate coincidence. In the staff room I leaned in to the teachers that sit next to me and said quietly “So, in Gujarati my name means….” and they began laughing. “Who told you?!” they asked. Awesome, I thought. It is true.

Apparently people didn’t want to tell me, fearing that I would feel bad about sharing my name with a goat’s excrement. A valid reason I suppose, but in hindsight I feel pretty bad about walking around proclaiming that I am goat poop for the last 6months. I guess if anything, I’m not surprised at all. I’ve known since I was ten that my name is unusual and causes problems (“your name is Cindy/Mindy/Wendy/Lyndsey??). So now, this just confirms it. Again, thanks Mom.

From now I may be introducing myself as Lena, as suggested by an Indian teacher here. I like this new name, but I don’t know if I can embrace it. I still like my old name, despite its unfortunate meaning. I recently began teaching two new 5th standard classes and I hesitated before introducing myself as Lyndi, knowing that a 5th standard student’s sense of humor would capitalize on such an opportunity to laugh. After both saying and writing my name on the board I cringed, waiting for an eruption of laughter, but there was none. Perhaps they waited until I left the class to die of laughter, or perhaps, it isn’t that big of a deal. As a teacher at my school told me “Have no tension….don’t worry, be happy.” So, I will happily proclaim that I am, in fact, goat poop.

Women are Goddesses all over the World, but Particularly in India!

2009-12-11T01:35:00.000-08:00

India is going through the slow transition from a traditional culture into the new “modern” model of society established by the trends of the west. This process of modernization is said to free and liberate women and give them a productive place within society, not that being a mother is no work it all, but we all know how little respect women are shown for the single most difficult and important job in the world.

At school I get the inside view of the modernizing women of India. There are three most popular things that occur in the staff room, the first being sleeping, one elbow on the table as a pillow then a much needed snoozing session occurs. Second is sharing food, their status at school seems somewhat linked to their ability to create the delicious Gujarati delicacies. Lastly, they indulge in buying new saris and jewelry that are being adored and admired around the staff room.

Sleep is the most important activity at school in any free moment. The teachers are mothers that provide direction, love, food, homework help and many other things. They are wives that provide breakfast, lunch, and dinner and keep a clean presentable home and a lovely glowing appearance. They are also care givers for their husband’s parents. Finally they are teachers that provide instruction to rambunctious classes with over seventy students in each.

My co-teacher wakes up at 5:30am to prepare breakfast and lunch for her family. She then receives her students that take private coaching sessions with her, this takes 2 hours and it is over 30 students in total. She then provides and eats breakfast with her family, changes into her sari, and comes to school. At school teachers are responsible for around 6 class periods a day. By the end of the day her voice is tired and cracking from talking over all her students. When she goes home she prepares dinner, eats dinner, cleans up from dinner, and then for enjoyment she cuts vegetables for the next day, while watching TV. She admits that sometimes she falls asleep at 8:30pm. She woks 6 days a week and now on the seventh day she is busy trying to find her middle daughters’ future husband, which means entertaining guests every Sunday, while buying and arranging vegetables from the weekly market.

Women in the US also work and cook, but usually food preparation is easier and takes less labor and time. Many Americans fill restaurants on all nights of the week and there are so many easy fixes that are available for consumption. Also in the US many women receive help from the husband in cooking and cleaning, whereas here I was actually lectured about how Drew, our fellow teacher, should not be doing dishes because it is not nice for a man to do this job. In India cooking a meal means dicing and cutting vegetables and making fresh rothi (bread) for every meal. Although these women are busy preparing food for their large families, they also manage to bring in delicious dishes for all the members of our staff. It is in their nature to make others happy. They don’t just bring their deliciously prepared dishes for their own consumption, but share it with all the staff, men and women included.

Women on my staff are given very few chances to indulge. While many men may sit around at night chatting and playing games, women are inside putting all things are in order for the next day. Women are asked to work without complaint and they should find happiness in the small things.
At first I didn’t understand the obsession with elaborate saris and so much jewelry to decorate oneself, but then I realized that this is their one selfish enjoyment. A husband approves of a nice looking woman and at school they are required to wear saris, so women are given a free pass to indulge in the art of decorating one’s appearance. Teachers bring saris in to sell to one another. Each and every day in the staff room there is a chance for them to shop and indulge in their passion.

As I watched the time and energy and enthuisiasm about one piece of cloth, I was confused by how enamored the women were with the saris. My first word in Gujarati was “bo fine che” or very nice, which is spoken over and over while the women sort through the bright and colorful saris. It appears to me that nearly all the free time that is not spent eating or sleeping is spent making oneself beautiful through buying new saris and large gold jewelry. Women in India ease the difficulty of their life with the jovial colors and the glimmering jewels adorning their face, necks, and hands.

Women everywhere are worked too hard and depended on by so many, but in India it is to the extreme. The traditional part of the society is making their role as the care giver of the family the most important part of their life. In a good Indian household the mom should be preparing all meals and maintaining the house. The modernization of India is also telling women that they need to be making money so that they can raise their status, keep up with the material goods available, and better educate one’s family. All these things require money and many women are leaving the house to earn this extra money. This place in society leaves women in India tired and overworked, but still looking beautiful. While I think women in the western world have outrageous expectations for all we are supposed to achieve, I do believe Indian working women are the most beautiful and amazing goddesses in the whole world because they work extremely hard both in the home and at work and manage to stay in good spirit the whole time. Maybe they recieve their strength from God or maybe from their favorite hobby, sari shopping: )

Opening Doors to a New World

2009-12-05T04:45:00.000-08:00

We opened the library at our school in Bajipura this week. A big thanks goes out to all of the people that had a hand in the process- soliciting and collecting book donations, shipping the books to India, and the people that helped to organize and categorize the books. I had the pleasure of being there to witness the culmination of the hard work. The children and staff sincerely extend their gratitude to all who made this venture possible.

Books are special, not only for the written content, which in some instances can be very powerful, but also for the memories. This is especially true for children’s books, and many of us can remember those initial steps we took of reading a favorite book- sounding out the words and slowly stumbling through it. There was a sense of accomplishment, as well as a sense of wonder. Books opened up a new world for us- there were dinosaurs, fairies, trucks, princesses, and knights in shining armor- Disney, Winnie the Pooh, Dr. Seuss, and Little Engines that Could…….There was no end to the possibilities, and I don’t think those feelings ever end either. While sorting through the books, I was able to read some of them, and it was just a good feeling- Yes, it made me happy and more self confident in my reading skills ;) No, the feelings and memories that they bring about. It was a time of innocence, and we read for the joy of reading- not because it was assigned or there would be a test over the material.
It seems that kids are magically drawn to books, and I am sure that it is because their minds can run wild with the new worlds before them. Books also create memories of childhood, and I found this especially true of the Christmas books. There are not too many signals that Christmas is just around the corner, but one can not help but read, Twas the Night Before Christmas, and not be sucked up in the memories of hearing it as a child and the eager anticipation that accompanied it around the holiday season. It sucks you in, and the sights, sounds, and smells come flooding back to create an atmosphere that even the most skilled movie producers would have a hard time replicating. Books are life, and they have always been there for us through the good and bad times- those memories are forever captured in the books that shared those experiences with us. I know these books will create memories for the children here in India as well. They will remember reading their first English book, and they will remember the magical worlds that were opened up through the books. One never knows how these initial sparks will turn out- some of them will definitely turn into wildfires of seeking knowledge and expanding world views.

Again, on behalf of all the teachers and students over here, I would like the say thanks to all those that made this library possible. I think the smiles say it all :)

Silent Protectors

2009-12-01T05:03:00.001-08:00

Do you notice anything strange about this picture? I did not notice anything either at first. It is our staff room at school, and I sit there on a daily basis waiting for my next class period. In fact, I am sitting in the room right now typing this blog. I would hear an occasional squeak, but I thought it was probably just the ceiling fan or a wayward cricket. One of the other teachers noticed me looking around after a particularly noisy squeak one day, and he said that it was bats. I really did not think that was the case. How could bats be behind those pictures? The pictures sit flush against the wall, and they are only about an inch thick. He proceeded to climb up on a chair, and tilted the picture out away from the wall. Sure enough, there were several bats clustered behind the picture. He gently let the picture go back against the wall and shrugged his shoulders. We have bats back in Indiana, but they are generally viewed from afar as they are darting about in the night catching insects. It is a rare occasion for me to see one up close in a roosting position. I am sure they are all around me at home, but I am just too oblivious to notice. It was a real treat to see them huddling behind the picture though- waiting for night to come, so that they could begin their hunt for insects.

It made me think about the benefits that bats do bring to India and the people living here. Yes, bats can carry disease, with rabies being one of the most feared. They can make a mess with their feces, which may also prove to be a breading ground for disease and harmful bacteria. I think the benefits outweigh the detriments though, and we are fortunate to have them. I am no bat expert, but I have seen two types of bats during my short stay in India so far. The smaller bats, like the ones in the staff room, tend to eat insects. This is a great benefit, as people are much more likely to contract an insect born disease here rather than a disease from the bats. These insect borne diseases are a constant problem in India, and they include malaria, dengue fever, chikungunya fever, and Japanese encephalitis to name a few. Mosquitoes are a constant problem in India, and there is really no cold winter in most parts to provide total relief from the danger they present. The bats do a nice job of helping to naturally control the insect population- eating up to 3,000- 7,000 insects in a given night, and in turn the diseases that come with them.

The second type of bat that I have seen is a much larger bat- reaching lengths over a foot long, and it is a fruit bat. When we are running in the morning, they can be seen flying along the river to get back to their trees before the sun comes up. Yes, they do eat fruit, but I think the pollination process that they help facilitate more than makes up for the fruit that they eat. It would be a very expensive and time consuming process for farmers to pollinate their fruit trees, so I am sure they are willing to pay the bats in fruit for the service they provide.

It has been an interesting learning experience for me. It is something that I have seen on National Geographic shows, but it has now become an up close reality for me. It makes me wonder what other things are all around me, but I have just never taken the time to notice……

Greetings from Kadod

2009-11-30T03:23:00.000-08:00

Hello readers-Addaia here, also known as Sofia to the many residents of Kadod. After growing up in the US with a strange name containing far too many vowels, It's nothing new for people to have trouble with my name, so a "pet name" was only fitting. Luckily for me, Sofia is also an Indian name, which has avoids the past twenty years of difficult name exchanges. Now, the challenge will be the rest of the conversation and learning all of my students Indian names. As a Nanubhai fellow, my own passion and commitment stems from a solid belief in the empowering and redistributive impact education can have on communities. Almost a month into my program, I'm adapting to the rhythms of life in a small village in rural india. That's not to say that each day doesn't leave me bewildered, amazed or both.

The educational problems in India are heightened by severe gender and social class disparities, along with high drop-out rates, an emphasis on memorization in order to pass state exams over real learning, and inadequate resources. Our formal teaching duties do not permit us the flexibility to even attempt to break any of these educational barriers, but spoken English gives children this unique opportunity that the regular school day does not. It gives any student in standard 9 the free opportunity to have individual attention with a curriculum geared towards learning as opposed to memorization. Not only is it my favorite part of the day, but reaffirms my purpose as a teacher.

In an attempt to acquire more students in spoken English, since our numbers had been dwindling before Diwali vacation, we decided that the best way to attract more students would be spoken English games and icebreakers. Playing educational games not only captivated the children's attention, but coaxed them into speaking unconsciously. It also worked as intended in attracting other student's curiosity seeing what a blast spoken English could be. Luckily, it worked. Not only has our class attendance tripled, I had the unique opportunity to see our students unique personalities expressed in English. I was extremely impressed by their ability to make jokes and general commentary on the activities.

Hit the Road!

2009-11-29T05:33:00.000-08:00

Some of the Nanubhai Fellows are hitting the road, literally, in hopes of earning money for rural education. A group of 6 Fellows have set their sights on running a Half Marathon in February with the hope of earning money for every kilometer ran on race day.

After running my first marathon in 2006 I decided that I would either run one Full or two Half Marathons every year. I’m not sure how to explain my attraction to doing something most people would consider a punishment, but nonetheless, I continue to run even here in India. My roommates call me a masochist, and maybe so, but misery loves company and so I enlisted them to join me.

Training for a major race in America can be hard enough; running in India sometimes feels impossible. As we have already experienced, the obstacles can be great. Earlier in the year we were faced with extreme heat, punishing humidity, and finally, mass amounts of rain during the monsoon season. It has also been difficult to find good places to run; there are no jogger friendly trails here. The main roads are extremely dangerous and so we started scouting good routes on less traveled roads that cut through the thick sugar cane fields. Nutrition is now becoming a problem as our mileage increases. We are on vegetarian diets that don’t provide us with enough calories or protein to sustain all that we demand of our bodies. I am starving one hour after eating breakfast!

So here we are; 6 of us in 3 different cities in rural India. We are all training for the same race, all with the same hopes that running a few miles can make a difference in the life of at least one student. Soon we hope to have our own blog spot where interested people can follow our training, feel our pain, and hopefully get involved in our goal of providing assistance to a well-deserving student. Just like our students, we will keep our eyes on the future and continue to work hard despite all the obstacles and pain that we face.

India Solves World Energy Crisis- Harnesses Its Most Precious Resource- Its Children.....

2009-11-29T04:53:00.000-08:00

While I make the statement tongue-in-cheek, one cannot help but be drawn in by the extreme energy that the kids radiate. It comes through in the way they participate in class, talk, play…….It starts early in the morning, and it does not end until classes are over- not even then, because we have spoken English classes after school. They are quick to offer an answer to a question, and sometimes the hardest part is choosing which student to call upon to answer. While we are walking home, after a long day, they are still chasing each other and playfully bopping each other on the back of the head. Isn’t that what being a kid is all about? Putting in the hard work and time at school, but not forgetting that you still are a kid, and nuclear energy does not even come close to the energy reserves inside.

Being a teacher, it poses a challenge, as it is necessary to maintain order in the classroom, yet it is nice to have so much creativity and enthusiasm being exhibited. This week, in honor of Thanksgiving, we took part in the long cherished tradition of creating “hand turkeys”. I think most people can recall the fond memories of tracing their hand and decorating their special turkey for the holiday. It made me recall the Harry Chapin song though, “Flowers Are Red,” and it made me think about the challenges of guiding students while still preserving their unique individual characteristics and zeal for learning. We had bright green turkeys, pink turkeys, crazy feathers, and hats decorating the turkeys. It is really amazing to witness unfettered creativity being displayed without fear of being corrected.

While the energy that these children provide may not be able to generate electricity for lighting buildings or fuel to power cars, it is still a very real energy. It is this passion and excitement for learning and life that will help India continue to grow and develop in the years to come. While they may not solve the current energy needs of India, they most certainly have the power to generate a very bright future.

Reduce Waste

2009-11-28T22:55:00.000-08:00

In standard 9 this past week, we have been learning about reducing waste and keeping our environment clean. For those of you that have been to India, you know that trash bins are few and far between and when you do see them, they are usually empty with piles of tobacco chew wrappers, paper and other miscellaneous trash littered all over the ground around it. While waste reduction and an environmental conscience don't seem to be taking all too quickly in rural Gujarat and many other parts of India, at least they are making an effort to teach about it in the classrooms, right? I am a firm believer in both our responsibility to the environment and in my responsibility as a teacher to educate students; encouraging them to think outside the box and to use the all their faculties to make good decisions.

As a homework assignment this week, I had the kids make posters highlighting which ways they could keep their environments clean as well as which things they should not do. Their textbook listed things like Don't throw trash on the ground. Do use the dustbin. Do reuse plastic bags and bottles to reduce waste. Don't dump trash into the river.

Because any homework we assign doesn't count towards their final marks in any way, a very large majority don't feel any need to complete homework for my classes. The last assignment I gave them was completed by about 7 students out of 70; all of them girls but one. This is disheartening; annoying at best. We often end up doing the homework during class time which may take away from the text work but at least is giving me time to work one on one with the students. While I am trying to instill class responsibility to your teacher (me), I am also asserting (attempting to) more authority in class by being more strict with my punishments.

Friday came. Reduce Waste poster due. One girl made a poster.

Disciplinary action needed. Kitty teacher the enforcer is prepared for such an outcome.

My punishment for those that did not hand in the assignment (I should note that this assignment was not totally one that I added to the unit's work. They were going to have to write all of these Do's and Don'ts later in the Unit - answers found directly in the reading!) was to have them clean up the school yard of all the candy wrappers and trash they guiltlessly litter in trails behind them. We started by cleaning up the classroom which has their recess remnants scattered around it. The dustbin sits nearly empty by the door.

Let me remind you of the first Do on the list....Do use the dustbin.

I am monitoring the progress of the class along with my trusty co-teacher enforcer, Vijaybhai when I notice several boys hurriedly picking up the trash. They seem diligent and intent on finishing the task; which is to not only pick up the trash but to also put it in the dustbin. When I gave the instructions for the punishment, I may have failed to mention after "Pick up the trash from the classroom floor" to tell them that once they had, to put it in the dustbin. My bad, apparently. I watched, awed, as Hardik threw his handful of wrappers OUT THE WINDOW!!

So, maybe the Reduce Waste lesson is going to have to be ongoing. BUT!, I am dedicated to seeing at least my students using the dustbin and consciously doing it. It's my new mission. Think I'll be successful? I'll let you know in a few months...

The Most Insane Vacation of My Life

2009-11-26T10:32:00.000-08:00

So I came home early from school today in order to prepare for my journey with the school. There is something quite exciting and at the same time unnerving about accepting an invitation to go on a trip in which you have no idea what the agenda is, exactly how to prepare mentally, and not even knowing the appropriate things to pack. I knew very little about what I was undertaking, but I did learn that I would be going to a water park, some temples, and maybe a few mountains. The number of days I would be gone was also quite vague to me.

I packed the usual items, but I also packed five days worth of food to nourish me for the entire journey. I have learned to fear getting sick, while travelling here in India. After a horrific month of stomach problems due to a trip to Delhi, I was not going to take any chances. With all my bags in tow I wandered down to the high school already feeling ready for bed, as we were leaving nearly at 9pm.

Upon arriving to the school I found that this was an event for all of Bajipura. The whole village arrived to bid farewell to their family and friends. We were taking around 100 students and around 500 people were there to say goodbye. The goodbyes included coming onto the bus and creating great confusion and craziness. The small aisles of the bus were crowded with parents anxiously scoping out what would become their child’s new home for the next few days.

We started down the highway with the kids screaming in excitement and blowing the extremely loud musical bus horns until we were out of town. Soon after that we heard another scream from the kids as the bus driver began blaring familiar popular Hindi songs in the bus. As soon as the music started the requests started for me to get up and dance in the bus aisles. I feel it would be dangerous to dance in bus aisles in any country, but on Indians curvy, sometimes out of shape roads and additionally all the crazy drivers, this was nearly a death sentence or at least risking serious injury to partake in dancing.

Once I realized there was no relaxing with a dance party occurring in the bus, I also was informed that this was to be a night journey. “Oh perfect a night journey, let’s get to the sleeping,” I thought. As I started to tune out all the noise and attempted to close my eyes. My hopes were soon crushed as I realized that I didn’t really fit in the seat. My luggage sitting at my feet was already giving me some anxiety, but I also realized that my knees were also scrunched against the barrier at the front of the bus. The teachers informed me that I could go to the back, where the boys were literally screaming, to lay across two seats. The boys made room for me and welcomed me by asking me a long series of questions, “What’s your mother’s name?” “What’s your father’s name?” I felt like I only seconds ago closed my eyes go to sleep when the bus was stopped and everyone told me to get out. At three o’clock in the morning my eyes were nearly completely shut and I was stumbling up the steps to a food hotel. I was greeted with,“ Teacher is there something wrong?” “What happened teacher?” “You’re tired teacher.” After all of this I could only think “Yes, and why are you not tired and grumpy, IT IS THREE AT NIGHT!” The teachers told me to sit down and I was served a cup of tea, which I knew was not going to help me fall asleep any faster.

We arrived the next day at four thirty in the morning. Except for a handful of kids there was no sleeping that took place on our bus. At most the kids had an hour of sleep under their belts. I began thinking of the nightmarish outcomes with teenagers facing no sleep, but the kids were all chipper as we went to take bucket showers. There were only a total of two showers to be shared by all fifty of us. It was amazing to me that there was no one complaining and all the girls happily got ready in the dirty and crowded position that we were in.

The first morning we made our way to a Shiva temple. As I was waiting in line to enter the temple I bent down to touch the steps just as all the students had done, but as I stood up I clobbered my head against the tiny archway leading into the temple. This happened in the midst of the woman, behind me in line, pushing me with her entire body. There is nothing more awkward than a woman pelvis bumping you in order to push her way to God. As I banged my head I heard on the announcements, “Please maintain the peace by not talking loudly and maintaining the calm atmosphere.” As I heard this I was ready to scream the most profane word as my head was pounding from the collision. Fighting stars in my head and tears in my eyes I made my way to God Shiva.

I realize that my writing about this trip is sounding quite negative, but really it was the biggest cultural experience that I have had in India. This trip was extremely eye opening because I was completely isolated from any foreigners and I really became independent in a, “cultural stretch,” as I have named it. Not knowing the language and never knowing where I should go and when the next time I would eat and sleep was, is both trying but also made me stretch my patience and cultural sensitivity. I had to let go of all expectations and just take in each experience both with all its craziness and the negative down falls, but also taking in the extraordinary pleasure of the people I was with and the places I got to see. By the end of the trip although I had slept three days on the floor of a bus amidst stinking feet and people stepping on me and was not always in the most pleasant mood, I also was learning Gujarati in order to fend for myself and was learning incredible flexibility and patience.

I was most amazed with the students. While I sometimes felt like I was on the verge of a small break down due to lack of sleep and the difficult conditions, the kids were extremely positive the whole time. They slept in a hospital, which was rumored to have swine flu infected patients, without saying much of anything. They waited in long lines in temples to be pushed past the deities in less than seconds due to the amount of people. They waited for meals patiently and stayed positive while they were falling out of their seats and sleeping with the necks cramped in ridiculous positions. They never complained about anything being dull or boring, but took each new experience with highest level of enthusiasm. I stressed about losing the students with no emergency procedures in place and very little knowledge of when we should meet up, yet the students always came together in a reasonable amount of time and truly looked out for each other and as a result we faced no major issues.

I have always been known as a bubbly positive person, but after this I truly realized that after four days of sleepless nights that I could not even hold a candle to my Indian counterparts who were still dancing in the aisles as the bus was flying around corners and the kids were also flying through the bus. The enthusiasm to experience the newness of different places and the ability to stay positive regardless of the challenges is something I truly want to learn from this experience. I am always grateful for new experiences, but I want to try and emulate the students and teachers of Bajipura High School in the positive and zealous way they approached the most insane vacation of my life.

Welcome to Bajipura

2009-11-26T04:34:00.000-08:00

Along with welcoming the New Year recently (according to the Hindu calendar) the teaching Fellows at Bajipura also welcomed Drew Tilson, the newest addition to the Nanubhai teaching staff. Drew hails from Indiana and has been a great addition to the school in Bajipura. Drew gained a wealth of experience while working in China at Sias International University for three years. He enjoys traveling and learning about new cultures which is part of what led him to India. I sat down with Drew to enjoy a cup of chai and to talk about his experiences thus far.

Lyndi: You’ve been in India for about 4 weeks now. What are your thoughts on your new home, such as the food, the climate, the people, etc.?

Drew: It has really been enjoyable; the people and food have been fantastic. The weather has been nice too, especially since it is getting cold back in Indiana now. I am learning and seeing new things everyday which I really enjoy.

Lyndi: What have your experiences been like in the classroom?

Drew: The kids have been very energetic and excited to learn. It is great to see so much passion; when I ask questions in class hands go up all over the room and students always wants to show me what they can do.

Lyndi: How does teaching in India differ from teaching in China?

Drew: They are similar in that you can see that passion and hunger for learning, but in India the passion is much more apparent. My university students in China were also eager to learn, but they were more reserved. The students I am teaching in India are younger and their energy levels are very high. It is difficult sometimes to teach in an ESL environment, but the students and their efforts make it worth every second.

Lyndi: What do you hope your students will learn from you?

Drew: Learning is a lifelong process, and it does not finish once they are out of school. I hope they continue to ask question and grow in their knowledge of the world around them.

A Thanksgiving without the Macy's Day Parade

2009-11-26T02:50:00.001-08:00

The last two months living in India have been full to the brim with festivals. All of them interesting, full of sweets and quite the experience. At home in New York, families are listening to Christmas music, singing “I’ll be home for Christmas”, baking pumpkin pies and celebrating our own types of festivals. While I miss my family and friends and the smell of fresh snow fall as it twinkles from the woods behind my parent’s house, it’s almost hard to imagine that at this moment, my sister is baking a cheesecake, my brother is home from college, the air has a chill to it and someone is forgetting to make the green bean casserole because I’m not there to remind them. There is no chill in the air in India in November although, Kushboo might tell you differently as she sits in my class wearing the thickest fleece I’ve ever seen. I told her today she makes me hot just looking at her. But, the other essentials that make the holidays so important have still been present in rural India this week.

Taiyaba and her family in Kadod were kind enough to open up their home, for the second year, to the Nanubhai fellows so we could prepare a “proper” Thanksgiving feast. It was a day of improvisation, ingenuity, creativity and family. The turkey was substituted by a “free range” chicken; freshly slaughtered and prepared in a toaster oven and the “smashed” potatoes were expertly mashed by Taiyaba’s daughters who were happy to be able to take charge of part of the preparations. In our little tiffin lunch boxes, the apple pies baked to perfection; the smell of cinnamon wafting out our apartment door and into the warm afternoon sunshine. Drew did his manly part in the kitchen by opening the cans of cranberry sauce with a knife and a little elbow grease. Soon, the table was full of food; a stray goat wandering in from the yard to watch the commotion and then, to add to it.

I thought of my family throughout the day. I missed working in the kitchen with my mom and carrying out the traditions that have been in place since I can remember. I missed the commotion of my big, Polish family. Still, with our feast before us, we all went around the room and said what we were thankful for; at Taiyaba’s urging. This year, I personally, have so much to be thankful for. This experience will always stand out as a highlight in my life and the friends we’ve made continue to change our perspectives daily.

When it came to my turn to say what I was thankful for, I thought of my mom, who sent so many of the ingredients for our Thanksgiving dinner. She always welcomed the neighbor from next door who had no family in the area to eat with us, or the family in the church who maybe couldn’t afford a big meal for the holidays. This year, I was the one in the guest’s seat, feeling blessed to be a part of the family, overwhelmed by the kindness, thankful for the smell of stuffing, my new friends around me and my family back home. It was a new and different experience and a little like cooking a holiday meal with all the accouterments available while on a camping trip but, it was a great time and I just wanted to take the opportunity to wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving and encourage you to consider all the ways you are blessed this year.

A Swine Flu Parade

2009-11-26T02:23:00.000-08:00

It all began with the arrival of 3 government trucks decorated with Swine Flu posters at around 11 one morning. I wondered what this could possibly be about. Had they finally come for the American teachers who were in the newspaper for their possible H1N1 infection? Were we in for a long assembly on health during Swine Flu season in India? My questions were answered just after lunch by my new housemate/co-worker, Addaia, who returned from her class 20 minutes early saying something about a Swine Flu parade. Confused and excited for another weird Kadod event, I emerged from my house to find this scene in the courtyard:

It seemed that the government officials were there to raise awareness in rural Gujarat on the H1N1 virus. What better way to do this, of course, than a parade of 300 excited 9th grade students through all of Kadod. Each student was equipped with a sign and they were off. Of course, as this was a parade in India, much of the marching was done next to speeding cars and trucks.

After about 10 minutes, the students had a wonderful idea to begin chanting things like "Swine Fluki, hi hi!" and "H1N1, hey hey!" It was an amazingly entertaining experience for students and teachers alike.

What better way to begin a second semester of teaching at Kadod High School?

The Guidebook: The Evil Guidebook

2009-11-13T09:41:00.000-08:00

Some how one book that is meant to help the students with their studies has been one of the largest deterrents for student learning in my classroom here in India. This book is for cheating in the class and on the exam. All of the writings of the textbook are translated into Gujarati, which is the most useful part of the book. Where the book takes a turn for the worst is when all of the assignments and questions that are in the textbook are all answered in the guidebook. This completely eliminates all student thought. Students become expert copiers. Students simply copy the question and the answer from the guidebook for all assignments given by their Indian teachers. Teachers check student notebooks for completion of all assignments in the textbook, but really there has been no completion, since students have only been copying all the answers not actually processing any of what is written.

In order to curb the culture of copying I have tried to assign writing assignments that are not found in the guidebook. Many students are confused about the assignments because they are only used to copying for the guidebook. These new assignments bring out student laziness and then in the end the assignments that induce thought are not even completed. As I scan through student notebooks I am puzzled because very few students have any of the class work I have assigned or any homework in their notebooks. They only have the meticulously copied guidebook written in their notebooks.

After correcting seventy six notebooks from my 9A class, I went on a copying and guidebook tirade. I wrote some Spanish sentences on the board and I asked students to copy this into their notebooks 10 times. After completing this I asked them to tell me what this means. Students looked at me with confused glances. I said as many times as you copy something you are not going to learn it, so simply copying from the guidebook is not resulting in your learning.

Although I went on this rant I don’t know what affect it will have. The first essay I was assigned to teach, I launched into a large brainstorming session and gave students an easy framework for creating a simple, but well written essay about their village. As I corrected their essay notebooks I was expecting to see my framework being put to use, but alas there is also an essay guidebook and as a result I read 76 of the exact same essays. At first I naively said to the teacher that “All these essays are copied should they receive credit for this work.” To which the teacher replied, “Yes, they receive credit, it is from their essay guidebook.”

The guidebook tragedy goes even further. My co-teacher pulled out a small book that was in English. I asked her about the book and she informed it is a small guidebook. We both started laughing to point of tears, since her and both know the negative impact that this book is having on student learning. She said sadly, but also through laughter that this book is made so students can sneak it into the exam room in their pockets.

This lack of learnign saddens me. I have a passion for real teaching that creates real student learning. In some ways I realize that this guidebook is their sad and true reality. Many students come into eighth standard without the ability to read English. They are reading material at about the fifth or sixth grade level of the United States, which is nowhere in their reach. Without memorizing the material there would be no way they could come close to passing the exam. For many students memorizing or even cheating is the only way that they will be able to move on in school. In order to rid the evil of the guidebook the whole system must be changed. Since each semester is based on the completion of a large exam, the focus cannot be on genuine student learning, but about preparing for the high stakes testing. For a tenth standard student passing the exam is the only way to move onto higher secondary school. If they fail this exam they must wait a year and retake it or just stop going to school. Passing the exams becomes the most important thing to these students regardless of the fact that their ability is way under the level of the exam they have to fight to be able to pass. Memorizing the guidebook becomes their only weapon, besides copying during the exam.

Where is the light at the end of the dark guidebook tunnel? I guess only through education reform can we really impact language learning here in Gujarat. At this point making large reforms in the education system is a bit beyond my position or authority, but I will try to do my small part and encourage the students to think for themselves during my classes.

“Ma’am! Ma’am! Story? Story?”

2009-11-04T08:22:00.000-08:00

It is the last period of the day, and I walk into an English medium first standard classroom. The chaos that takes over the children at the end of the day can be heard even in the hallway, but as soon as the children see me the chaos has a different face. Immediately, the children start to clear their desks, some fold their hands and put their fingers on their lips, and some run up to me and try to look at what I am holding behind my back. “Ma’am! Ma’am! Story? Story?” I smile and then and give them a quick nod, but remind them they must sit down quietly and clear their desks before story time can begin.
Principal Madam wanted Dalena and I to take over some Library periods in the English medium, as an opportunity to have an extra period to work on the students listening and oral reading skills. She assigned me all of the classes in first standard, and told me to ask the librarian for the books the school had for these classes. I browsed the books, and I mostly saw small fable books, without many pictures and difficult English—in other words, nothing so promising. However, I worked with the materials I had and read those small stories to the children. At first, I had them sitting in their chairs and I would go around, reading the story aloud and take time to show each child the picture in the book. Not only did this take a lot of time, but I realized the children started to get really bored if they were not instantly getting the satisfaction of looking at the pictures as well.
From then, I started a search of English books that were filled with fun pictures and easy text, so the children can easily understand what they were hearing, and also continue to stay interested. I found some books at a huge retail store called Big Bazaar, but still their selection was limited. Luckily, a few weeks later my school had a Scholastic book fair and I was able to get my hands on some quality books I thought my children would really enjoy. Now, I just had to overcome the next hurdle—keeping them interested.
The biggest challenge I was up against was changing the schedule of the children and their expectations of their library period. Since the library periods are in the last period, I also have to ensure that they know they need to stay calm, and that it isn’t a free period to just have fun and listen to a story if they feel like it. Having the children stay in their seats clearly wasn’t working so I decided to use the classroom set up to my advantage. In the front of each of my classrooms, there is a small platform in front of the blackboard. I decided that I would sit on top of the platform and I would have all my students sit in front of me, like how I remember having story time when I was small. No hitting, touching, talking or playing rules were implemented and very quickly, all the children were captured by the story I read them. They stayed still staring at the pictures, murmuring “wow” as the images came across their eyes, and even erupting into applause at the end of each page because of their excitement. It is really a sight to see! They are so excited about getting this story time each week that sometimes they forget the rules they must follow before they can get a story, but being clear about my expectations each time I walk into the class has really helped.
Now after 4 months of being there, they are getting the hang of Library period, they know what to do when I walk in the door (after some reminders of course), and they are getting used to breaking from the norm and sitting together to enjoy a story as a class. Now that I have gotten this far with my students, I really want to take it a step farther and have them begin to read stories on their own. I would like to take advantage of having two teachers in the class to do guided reading in smaller groups, buddy reading projects, and other fun reading/story based activities. My ultimate goal for the end of the school year is for the students to write their own short creative stories, illustrations and all. Wish me the best and I will let you know the progress of my work! Of course, if anyone has ideas please feel free to contact me with tips or suggestions. I would love to hear from you!

Until next time!

2009-11-03T01:22:00.000-08:00

Of Mangoes and Monsoons

2009-10-15T11:27:00.000-07:00

In honor of Blog Action Day, this is a post by former Kadod Teaching Fellow Melissa Ivins, currently pursuing her Masters in Environmental Management at Yale University. Below are her reflections on climate change and her experience working in rural India!

Two of the staples of India, mangoes and monsoons, have been on the fritz lately. The past year unseasonable winter weather stunted the mango harvest, meaning great loses for farmers who depend on domestic and foreign sales of the King of Fruit for part of their income. Since then even more farmers’ livelihoods have been compromised by irregularities in the monsoon, which came a month later than usual in Gujarat this year.

All over India people have found themselves working to adapt to more frequent droughts or floods, (no small feat when you are already catering to a weather pattern as extreme as the monsoon). Granted, one flood here, and a small drought there is not so unusual for India. After all, in a country of its size, you are almost guaranteed that someone somewhere is experiencing problematic weather at any given time. However, the frequency of these events is increasing, and that is what really has people worried. It’s not just happening in India, either. Around the globe, what people once referred to as “100 year floods” (so called because they occurred about once every 100 years) are becoming known as “15 year floods” and traditionally “20 year floods” are looking more like “2-5 year floods”. The results are ruined crops, damaged personal property, and sometimes even loss of life.

More and more people are talking about climate change and the rising levels of greenhouse gases as the driving force behind the unusual weather, from farmers and teachers at the Kadod bazaar to researchers and policy makers at the World Bank. (Click here to read the World Bank's report on climate change impacts on drought- and flood- affected areas in India.) When it comes to something as complex as weather patterns, it is difficult to draw direct links of cause and effect to explain the changes we are seeing. While it is impossible to say with 100% certainty that, “Yes, climate change diminished the mango crops and delayed the monsoon,” we do know that our environment is changing more rapidly now and in the last few decades than it has previously changed in centuries. This can be measured by the rapid increases in global temperature, greenhouse gas levels, and species extinction rates. More and more evidence suggests that all of these attributes are linked, and rather than wait until we are absolutely certain that climate change is affecting our weather patterns, ways of life, and fellow species, we need to act now to reduce greenhouse gas levels and preserve natural ecosystems. Whether or not you believe climate change delayed the monsoon, there are many small things you can do that not only reduce greenhouse gas emissions, but also simply keep the planet a little cleaner and help save resources for future generations. Humans have more power than any other species to change their environment, and when you think of this power in terms of climate change it may seem disturbing and frightening, but the good news is that this means we really can change our environment for the better.

So what can we do for our environment?

Some of the best recommendations I can take straight from Kadod and they all boil down to the simple phrase, “Reduce and reuse.”

-Use durable, reusable bottles and Tupperware instead of one-time use items. This not only saves trash from going into landfill and prevents littering, it also saves energy. The energy that isn't being used to make a new disposable item, the energy that isn't be used to transport the "used" item to the landfill or recycling center, and the energy that isn't be used to recycle it into a new disposable item.

-Turn off lights and water when you’re not using them. In Kadod, people are especially aware of these resources because their limitations are felt. If you let water run when you are not using it in Kadod, it means there won’t be any water running later in the day when you really do need it. Not everyone has such strong reminders to conserve their resources, but this is not an excuse to waste them.

-Carpool. Have you seen how many people can “carpool” in a single vehicle in Kadod? I rarely saw anyone traveling in a car or rickshaw by themselves. (Disclaimer: While I admire the zeal of Kadod residents for sharing rides, I strongly recommend limiting the number of passengers to the number of seat belts in the vehicle when carpooling!)

-Ride your bike. Many people bypassed cars and rickshaws completely, transporting themselves via “cycle” only. (Extra bonus: You get to ring a bell and shout at people to get out of your way, “Side!”)

-Eat more vegan and vegetarian foods. A more plant-based diet is healthier for your body and for the planet. Be creative about how to incorporate these foods into your lifestyle without feeling like you are depriving yourself. Every little change you make helps, so try eating vegetarian for “Meatless Mondays” or going "vegan before dinnertime". You can help the planet and your heart while still satisfying your carnivorous cravings.

These are just a few small, simple things anyone can do to help our environment. What are some other things we can do to help? What is your favorite way of helping the environment?

A Picture Says... at Least One Word

2009-10-14T23:28:00.000-07:00

Happy Diwali and happy vacation to all!

Yesterday was our last day of school at P.R. Khatiwala before Diwali vacation, which our school has off from October 15-November 4. In order to conclude the last few days, then, I’ve been trying to wrap up current lessons and abstain from starting any new chapters, since I didn’t want to break off partway through a story and have them forget it over vacation.

Before vacation, though, I had two periods left to fill with my 7-A class in the English medium, my difficult class of the moment. Things have been going very well this term with my 6th standard and 8th standard classes, and they seem to have no problem understanding my pronunciation or explanations for the lessons, but 7-A has the worst time keeping quiet as well as the hardest time understanding. When I tried to move slowly through the lessons to make sure they all understood, they’d stare at their hands or out the windows or fall asleep on their desks… when I tried to move a little more energetically, I’d achieve the same result. Thus it came as little surprise that they didn’t understand the lesson once we’d completed it, but I’ve been trying to figure out what I can do to get them more engaged.

Since I didn’t want to begin reading the new story (a rather strange take on “The Ant and the Grasshopper” which describes an elderly man and his ‘uncouth’ younger brother, the black sheep of the family, who swindles money from everyone and never works) I was left with a rather dry and lengthy list of vocabulary words that it would be necessary to cover before reading the story.

Generally, the students are given the task of writing down these “words to know” at the beginning of the lesson. This, predictably, does not assure that they actually learn the words, but does assure that their notebooks look fuller. The list also is never sufficient to cover all the difficult words in the text. In addition to the 25 vocab words given in the chapter, I found an additional 15 as I read the story.

This gave me 40 words to teach to 40 kids in two periods. And this in the face of it being their final two English periods before break, so they were all geared up to argue vehemently for their right to slack off and play games.

Fun?

So I got myself psyched up about it. I planned to use funny examples that relate to their life (which is getting increasingly easy as I start to know them a bit better and remember what it is that 7th graders find funny) in order to bring home the definitions.

Speaking of which, ‘bring home’ was one of the phrases I had to teach them.

“To ‘bring home to’ means to make sure someone understands something. As your teacher, it’s my job to ‘bring home’ this lesson to you… and if I’m not doing my job, you need to tell me!” I told them.

As I was about to move on to the next word in the list, Jayushi, my star pupil of 7-A, was waving energetically at me from a front row.

“Yes?”

“So ma’am, if we don’t understand the lesson, you will come to our home!” she beamed at me. Haha.

“Yes, exactly.” The rest of the class was chatting, so I called their attention back to me. “Did you hear that? If you don’t understand the lesson, then I will come to your home, and we will do the lesson all day!” This got a laugh, and I thanked Jayushi for her perfect, punny explanation.

Using examples of mischievous little brothers to explain ‘uncouth’ and stealing chocolate to explain ‘vindictive’ we got through the forty words in just over a period.

“Done! Game!” came a few cries, and they all started preparing their retreat from English… but little did they know, I wasn’t done yet.

“No, wait—now we have another activity. We’re going to illustrate these words. We’re going to draw pictures.”

“????”

“Each one of you is going to get a piece of paper with one of the words on it, and you need to draw the meaning of that word. I know some of you will be confused on what to draw, so I’ve written some ideas for you at the top of the page. I don’t want to hear that anyone can’t draw, because I think everyone can draw stick figures, right?” I drew a rough, awkward stick person on the board. The class laughed. “See, everyone can draw this, no? I’ll do the first word for you as an example.”

I glanced at my stack. The word was ‘discreditable’. I had written, by way of suggestion, ‘someone who has fallen in the mud.’ In order to explain the word, I had told them that they were all expected to be very good students since they go to P.R. Khatiwala, so we have a good opinion of them. We think that they dress very well and behave very well… so if, on Sunday, they are playing in the mud and one of the teachers sees them, it would be very discreditable to them!

So I drew a little stick student sitting in a puddle of mud, with a look of horror on his face, and a stick teacher with her hands on her hips, scowling at him.

The class laughed, both at the silly state of the characters on the board, and the expressions on their faces.

“OK, so it’s not very good, but it’s easy to understand, right? I want you all to draw something like this!”

As I passed the papers around the room, I half expected the class to try to thrust them back at me, as they sometimes do when I try to bring in outside assignments that aren’t part of the regular curriculum, but to my pleasure and astonishment they all took them up, some with exclamations of excitement of “Oh! I have ‘investments’! Hmm…”

One girl did look at the sheet doubtfully and told me earnestly, “But ma’am, this is not done!”

“Well, it’s done now.”

They were perhaps the quietest they’ve ever been in my class. Every student completed some manner of drawing for me, and we’re going to hang them at the front of the room when we DO finally read the story, after break. (Then, when they ask me, "Ma'am, what does this word mean??" I can point at the picture and say, "It's right there. Whoever drew this picture can explain it.")

So their day of partying yesterday, which included their singing an organized and unrelenting chorus of Hindi songs, complete with the boys doing imitations of obscene Western dances, was well-deserved.

I really WILL miss them over break.

And hopefully they’ll remember the definitions, for once.

Namaste,
Dalena

Lighting a path...

2009-10-10T03:12:00.000-07:00

When I entered one of my 8th standard classes this week the students were poring over yellow cards that the teachers had handed out. I asked my co-teacher what they were and she told me that the students had received their result cards from September exams. “Are they happy?” I asked her. She gave me a smile that said neither yes nor no. “In this class 10 students have passed.” This is a class of 64 students. Confused, I asked “You mean passed their English exams?” This would make sense to me because this is one of the lowest classes; most of the students come from very rural areas and have received poor English training prior to entering Madhi High School. “No,” she replied “ten is the number of students who have passed all subjects.” I was floored. Here I am trying to teach English, and they aren’t even able to pass exams in Gujarati or Hindi, their native language. “These students have a difficult time learning” she added. I had suspected just that and now it was made evident.

I went on with class as usual but I couldn’t stop thinking about it; 10 out of 64! The common belief of the Indian teachers is that the students in C, D, and E classes are backwards and dull. To me that is unacceptable. These students are not dull, even though their test scores may tell a different story. If anything, these students are the victims of an education system gone bad; the cracks in the system have widened and more and more students are falling through them. I know my students are smart and capable; they just haven’t been given a chance.

The students must take the result cards home to show their parents, who must then sign the card in multiple areas so the school knows they are informed of their child’s progress. As the students handed them back to the co-teacher she scanned the cards to make sure all the signatures were there. On some of the cards there was no signature. Instead, there was a thumbprint; a sign of an illiterate parent. I was surprised at the number of thumbprints on the cards and I mentioned this to my co-teacher. “Many parents are farmers, they have no need to read, and therefore they cannot help with homework.” Again, I felt another blow.

This cycle of illiteracy has been spinning in some families for generations and it may continue to spin unless something is done to stop it. I have no illusions that in ten months I can overhaul the system, but I do know that I can make a difference, even if it is only one student at a time. What I hope is that I can slow the spinning down enough to give these students a chance to grasp something, to learn something that can pull them out of cycle and hopefully not only change their lives, but also the lives of their children.

On the wall of my room I have a small card with a quote by Buddha: “Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.” It reminds me of something my students in China told me; A teacher is like a candle; they burn themselves to give light to others.

I want to be their candle.

The Bus Trip to the End of the World

2009-10-09T06:32:00.000-07:00

I can remember field trips from when I was a kid; lots of kids on a bus with lunch boxes full of goodies, our initials written in permanent marker onto our clothes, all of us probably annoying the crap out of our chaperons. Well, Lyndi and I were asked this last week if we wanted to go on a school field trip with 50+ kids to which we replied, "What the heck, Mount Abu sounds nice. Let's go." Maybe we should have asked the details of this excursion before we agreed but then, we probably wouldn't have gone if we had known. And talking about it now, Lyndi and I can't stop ourselves from laughing at the things we saw and heard.

Imagine, 54 excited kids ranging from grades 8 - 12 stacked into a "luxury bus" that doesn't have AC or reclining seats, all eating enough sugar to keep dentists in business for years, chugging the trendy Mountain Dew everyone is so obsessed with here, and then picture these kids saying the following quotes that are still making Lyndi and I laugh a week later....

To Lyndi: "Teacher, black man, White House, Obama". And then he walked away.

"Kitty-ben, you are tired but your face doesn't look tired."

On Mount Abu you had the option to pay to ride a few horses that looked pretty beaten down and tired out. My student, Shrey was talking about going all day and was really excited that I might want to do it too when I said that I had ridden as a kid. We see the horses and he asks me if I want to go. "No, that horse looks really hungry Shrey." He talks to the horses owner for a minute in Hindi and then says, "Don't worry, he will eat at 9 o'clock." Oh, great. That makes me feel better.

Lyndi to Raxa, our Gujarati co-teacher after seeing the little room where we will all sleep curled onto the floor, actually spooning our 11th standard girls (awkward) because of the close quarters: "So, is there another bathroom somewhere besides the one in here for the 15 of us? (she is still hopeful at this point)" Raxa: "What's your problem?"....None, no problem!

Shrey was super excited to find a whistle so he could be cool like the 12th standard boys who were blowing theirs excitedly at any time of day or night. I told him that if he bought one we probably couldn't stay friends because he was sitting next to me. He didn't seem that scared by my threat. Dhaval, his classmate, said, "Teacher, if he buys a whistle, you buy a gun and you shoot him."

Lyndi and I get talked to by random men just about everywhere we go so, it wasn't a huge shock when these random men started to appear and try to talk to us. The difference this time was that the kids could understand what they men were saying to each other before they came up to talk with us and knew they weren't exactly coming with the best intentions. Shrey made me pinky swear I wouldn't talk to strange men and Ashay would mutter under his breath when we walked by interested me, "Don't talk to him. Don't talk to strange men." We had 9th standard protectors :)

Maybe we won't be so quick to jump on the opportunity to take an Indian field trip the next time but I wouldn't trade the laughs on this one for anything. A weekend took me from being just Teacher to Sister (Ben). Three days gained us protectors. And my favorite quote of all is from Riddhi and is why I really can laugh at this hectic, draining weekend now.

"When you first came here, you were our new foreign teacher. We didn't know you. Now you are our friend."

A Lesson with STD 1

2009-10-04T06:15:00.000-07:00

During the first two weeks of the new term, I was made to teach the first lesson to STD 1 Divisions- A, B, and C. I must admit, I was nervous and extremely uneasy with the thought of having to teach STD 1 again in the English medium, as my first round with them in 1D was not all daffodils and butterflies, but nonetheless, I was up for the challenge. Since I have been getting to know the co-teachers very well in the first standard because I am with them once a week for library period (more description of that to come in the next blog!), I felt I was already in a better place to start my teaching.

My lesson, Saroja, was about an old woman who wanted to help build a temple, but she couldn’t because she was too old to lift the heavy stones. Instead, she decided to help the workers by making them buttermilk, so they could feel refreshed and continue working. The reading passage was not so long, but there were so many exercises to go along with this lesson, which made it very difficult to get through. It’s easy to forget how slowly these 1st graders write, and how much time they need to comprehend the questions I am asking them. I must admit, it is frustrating at times because I would really like to spend more time on reading each lesson, but I am plagued by time constraints--the necessity to finish within about a week’s time or else there is no possible way they can finish all the lessons they need to for the exams. So, I trudge through the lesson, and I hope that I am picking out important parts of the story to have them remember. By the end, I am able to dictate the basic sequence of the story, and they can fill in the blanks, or finish the sentences, although they sometimes give mindless answers because they know a certain word must be coming up soon in the sequence. (For example, they would answer “temple” or “buttermilk” for almost every question, until I reminded them to listen to what I was asking, and then a proper answer would appear.) After many days of pressing them to write faster, as I was taught to do quickly in these younger standards, a lot of reminders that we always leave one line between answers, and pleading for my students to listen to my instructions, I finally got through the lesson.

Now, the challenge with first standard isn’t that I can’t get through the lesson, even though it is really difficult to manage keeping on task with 30-40 youngsters all asking questions in Hindi or Gujarati about something I’ve just explained literally 10 times when I thought I had their attention. The challenge is the daunting combination of not just classroom management, but teaching these students the schemas of how to behave in school in general, and the expectations for them as students in this new environment, along with getting through very sophisticated lessons in solely English that made STD 1 a very… difficult place to be. I was overwhelmed easily, and I felt purely helpless at times because I wanted to be a good teacher to these students, but there seemed to be a level of communication and understanding that was, and still is, very challenging to get to with these students, as their English is minimal and my Hindi/Gujarati is nil. Reflecting back on these past two weeks, I think that was my biggest disappointment—I couldn’t get to a level of mutual understanding with most of my students. Two weeks is a very short time to be with a group of students, but my hopes were still high and of course I was slightly crushed when my students were still wild, and I couldn’t answer their basic questions to their satisfaction because of the language barrier.

However, no need to fear because all my hopes have not been lost. Fortunately, since last term, I have also had all of the STD 1 classes in the English medium for library period. Since we have had a regular routine set up of this weekly library period for 3 months now, they are beginning to get a grasp on the behavior expectations during this period, and even when I walk into the room, they know story time is coming and they must clear their desks and fold their hands before I will begin. How proud I am of my students that they have learned this!!!! Their sweet faces are so innocent, and their gleaming eyes are always so ready to jump into a learning adventure… it truly melts my heart. At the end of the day, I know that there is still some hope to be had with these small students and it just takes more time than I can be with them, based on the way my schedule is at the moment. As for now, I am moving on to teaching the 4th and 5th STD, and I am very excited to go on to the older students, but I am still happy I will get my weekly visit with my sweet 1st STD.

Until next time..

New bonds and proud moments

2009-10-03T10:56:00.000-07:00

With the Navratri festival officially over, I wanted to take a moment to tell everyone how proud I was to go watch my wonderful roommate, Dalena, perform every night at the indoor stadium for 10 nights. I must admit, I didn’t make it 2 of those nights because even I was too tired (and I was just a mere spectator!), but I tried to go as much as I could so I can show my support and enjoy all of the wonderful garba dances. There were thousands of people that attended the festivals at indoor stadium, and one night it was even broadcast live to 56 countries around the world! The cameras loved Dalena, and she showed up frequently on the large projection screen (jumbotron type thing), everyone praised her efforts at the end of each night, and she thanked them graciously as always. How she kept the energy to keep dancing all those nights, I really don’t know, but it was purely wonderful. I wish all the other teachers were there to watch as she floated merrily around with her class, as if she has been dancing garba all her life. I hope everyone can really take a chance to watch the video (posted by Dalena), and see if you can see her. Searching for her in those crowds of people was kind of like playing a live game of Where’s Waldo? but with more commotion, and very dizzying, but well worth it.

During this time, we were also able to make friends with one of our co-teacher’s brothers and his wife. He was one of the singers at indoor stadium, so we were able to reintroduce ourselves, and at the end of the end of the ten nights, I am hopeful that we have made another connection in this sometimes lonely city. He and his wife are so funny, and have made a promise to take us to a superb pasta restaurant here in Surat. Oh boy, new friends and delicious pasta here in Surat? Really, what more can a girl ask for?

In the end, I was a little sad I was too shy to learn some garba dances, as it seemed like so much fun to participate, but I had such a good time just enjoying everyone else dancing. It also allowed me to watch the different types of garba dances, the vast number of steps and movements involved, and how much the music influences the pace of the same steps. It was really fascinating to watch it all, and fto see the entire city to come together for these 10 days.

Navratri Celebrations: Surat Style

2009-10-01T10:50:00.000-07:00

Without a doubt, I’ve found my favorite festival. I’m not sure how any other party could surpass nine (or ten, depending on where and how you celebrate) evenings of solid dancing while wearing your absolute finest.

(Picture: Teachers dancing during celebrations at our school, P.R. Khatiwala.)

I threw myself into the Navratri celebration here with real passion, beginning with my desire to take dance classes somewhere in Surat. While wandering down one of the main roads after school, in pursuit of a class, I was lured to an open downstairs dance floor by some enticing dance music. There, I caught sight of a whirling group of mixed adults and youngsters, doing some pretty cool twirling moves in a circle in perfect unison. Before I even realized that this class was being held solely in preparation for participation in Navratri, I had enrolled, paid my dues, and started going daily.

I learned a decent repertoire of dances (four or five) over a month and a half of attendance, but the partial dances or those which I had learned imperfectly were quickly forgotten when my class abruptly started doing one dance only. Every night. Repeatedly. The dance, mind you, is under a minute long, because it is a folk dance meant to be danced continuously during a celebration. So that one partial minute was put on repeat for a significant chunk of my life… but dance lover that I am, I relished the workout, and the whirling, and left beaming every day.

Up until I arrived at the Indoor Stadium in Surat on the first day of Navratri, I hadn’t realized exactly how much of a BIG DEAL this celebration really is. From what I’ve gathered, Navratri, Surat style, is significantly different from Navratri in the smaller villages (as are most festivals). Not only did I have to pay a pretty penny for the entrance fee, but once inside I realized that hundreds of people had crowded inside the stadium stands and onto the ground floor in order to both participate in and watch the festivities. I hadn’t realized it was part spectator sport… but that made it all the more exciting!

(Picture: The indoor stadium, on a less-crowded night.)

My dance group, I quickly realized, was the biggest in the stadium. We had a dress-code every night so that we could coordinate matching colors. At first I thought this was for aesthetic reasons, but I quickly realized the true need for it—once the whirling in circles starts, everything becomes incredibly hectic, especially on the busier nights. Multiple groups are attempting to make circles in dangerously close proximity to each other, and elongated ovals crash into circles which crash into some less skilled misshapen lumps and suddenly you can’t tell who’s in your group and who isn’t except by the colors they’re wearing. During this whole time judges with clip-boards weave in and out, taking note of the good dancers and groups in order to award prizes (small prizes nightly and absolute winners after the tenth evening).

In order to acquire all the necessary colors and the traditional chaniya choli dress (required to dance in the “traditional” section of the stadium, roped off from the “Western” section), I borrowed heavily from friends and neighbors. Though I wore the same basic chaniya choli each night, I coordinated scarf, or dupata, and bangle and accessory colors in order to make myself recognizably part of the group. (On only one night was I unsuccessful: the seventh night of dancing had me exhausted and I grabbed the wrong dupata as I was getting ready. I wound up a nice blue flower in a sea of red dancers. Embarrassed, I asked my fellow dancers if I should go home, by they assured me, “No, for YOU it’s alright.”)

Despite my love of dancing, though, at times it was tough to keep a beaming smile on my face. Times such as when I would step on the pins, shells, mirrors and baubles that were constantly falling off of everyone’s elaborate costumes. Times such as when the participants in the group would grow too many and my moves would be hindered by the flailing arms on each side. Times such as when the neighboring groups would nail me in the head or shoulder or foot with variously flung limbs. I realized the threat of dancer injuries, especially in bare feet. My arms grew exhausted, held as they were over my head for a nearly continuous two or three hours.

But then, as the music tempo increased, the numbers would dwindle, a little pocket of freedom to move would open up, and I’d rediscover the intoxication of the beat, feeling especially motivated when one of mine and Pamela’s new friends would start singing (he’s a successful singer here in Surat). I learned to better time my spins to avoid more collisions and to hop into the inner circle when the outer one grew too dense.

On the third night I was even awarded a prize during the nightly prize distribution ceremony: “Special Lady.” I think this means something along the lines of, “You don’t quite seem like everybody else! Because we’re happy you’re here, you get a prize.” Guess I seemed an appropriate choice. I can now get a facial, haircut, some temporary tattoos, and even a free 1-square-inch multi-color permanent tattoo. (This is a growing trend in trendy Surat.) A pic of my group dancing (me included) also made in into the Times of India, but while I was going to include the scanned image here, it unfortunately seems to have disappeared in the aftermath.

(Video: My garba group dancing in green. If you have good eyes, you might spot me... though probably not, considering the size of the screen. I start off basically center screen, and I'm the only woman in green with short hair...)

Each evening the traditional dance was broken up by an intermission of current hit bollywood numbers, during which time people would stream from the bleachers down to the ground floor to do their “Western” moves in large groups. Some nights I participated, but others I crashed exhaustedly on the sidelines. My favorite night, though, was when our friend Yatin invited Pamela and me onstage to dance during the intermission and we got to rock the stadium for a bit and bask in the glow of video cameras that were reportedly broadcasting live to 56 different countries. (Unfortunately, I didn’t know which channel, so I couldn’t tell any folks back home to look for me…)

While ten consecutive days of this celebratory nonsense had me a bit exhausted and often snoozing in the staff room between classes, I somehow gained my second-wind by the last couple of days, the soreness abated, and I was sad to see it end. Many of my students also attended the events at the indoor stadium, either as spectators or participants, and throughout the week I had a number (perhaps teasingly; calling me out) tell me, "Ma'am! I saw you last night!"

One of the coolest culminations of the festival was the Saturday that we had a dance party at school for part of the day. Though I was particularly beat that day (it was after my exhausted seventh night) I mustered up the energy to dance with my students for a bit since they were calling me from all across the grounds to come and join their dance circles. Doing the traditional garba was fun, but a bit unpleasant in bare feet on the rocky dirt, but things really livened up when the Western dancing began and I got to lead my students in some silly dance moves that they seemed to love. I wished I had the energy to stick around and party with my pupils in the Gujarati medium as well, but I went home and fell unconscious for a few hours instead.

(Video: Students and teachers dancing at P.R. Khatiwala)

Now that Navratri is officially over, it will be nice to have some free time and evenings back, but I’m sad that my dance classes have ended. I’d have been happy to go all year. Guess I’ll be searching for another dance class or some yoga from here…

Namaste,
Dalena

The Fishbowl

2009-09-29T08:25:00.000-07:00

Of course we live in a fishbowl. We are always on display. Three foreign girls parading around in saris on our way to school are always a sight but, never more so it seems, than during this last festival; Navatry. Meg, Lyndi and I had so much fun dancing the night away with the garba circle in town. Each night we donned a different outfit; saris one night from our own collection, a borrowed one the next, traditional chanya chowdri after that - always decked out in our finest as the festival required. We always elicit looks, I mean, we do stand out but the looks turned into odd comments this week. "Why don't you have more ornaments on?" "Why doesn't your blouse match perfectly to your sari?" "Why are you garba steps so wide?" Most of the questions we have taken in stride. Gujarati's tend to be very forthcoming in their comments; to say the least. Honesty becomes brutal at times and they think nothing of it. But, this was a fun festival that everyone had been working up so much to us and we had really looked forward to participating in it. It's never easy to be the different one is a society of people that all dress identically aside from the difference in colors. It's not like a teacher will come in to school wearing the mandated sari and have it folded toga style. So, for us to throw our own spin on clothes, or to not have our hair done properly, or to simply opt for western dress to avoid comment - illicited many comments. By the end of the festival, we were all feeling our differences and really having a hard time handling the comments. It's hard to continue to embrace the culture when the culture is making it hard to do so by being critical of the steps you are taking.

While this was a frustrating aspect of the festival, there were more to make it extremely memorable. I loved the nights when Lyndi and I were able to go to Madhi and play garba with our students. Since we don't live in the village that we work, these times are really special to me, and to the kids as well. That first night especially, I can't remember how many houses we were invited into of students who's families I had yet to meet who put more food into our hands that I could handle to eat in one night's time. It was overwhelming to me at times, how happy and welcoming the parents were when we came into their homes and their children introduced us as their teacher; whom I'm sure they have heard plenty about over the last few months. In one home, Shrey's mother was sewing his outfit for the next night when he would be competing in a garba competition. She was hard at work gluing on more sequins than I would think possible, making the outfit colorful and shiny. I got to see him wearing this outfit the next night (and you can too - here is Shrey and I) along with his friends Dhuval and Ashok, who are all in my Spoken English class.

Navatry quickly has become my favorite festival we've been here to participate in and it shows in how exhausted I am from it! Nine nights of dancing till 1am, while still teaching, can really tire a girl out. So, I'm off to catch up on sleep. Hope you enjoy the pictures!

No English, No Progress

2009-09-28T10:46:00.000-07:00

Apparently one key to my success in the world is having learned English. It has little to do with my prowess and skill, it is simply because of the place I was born. I was able to be fluent in the language of power, influence, and success.

I find it a privilege to come here to India with an invitation. Someone finds my skills so useful to fly me around the world and provide me with food and shelter for my services. This is a honor for me to share my skills with fabulous, hard-working students. This opportunity was given to me mostly because of my ability to speak my first language.

It was stated at the English Language Teacher’s Association Conference, “No English, No Progress.” This statement hit me and the intern Milli right in the face. There was something shocking about all these presenters from all over the world using my mother tongue with such ease and skill. There were representatives from Sri Lanka, Lybia, Syria and all were in agreement that the importance of teaching English was so important, it should not be taught as a foreign language, but as a second language.

The disconcerting part of this is that people in the United States hardly know about these countries, but yet so many are striving to speak their mother tongue. Language teaching is not of great importance in the United States because it is felt that we can get far enough using our own language. We can get very far using English, but at the same time being multilingual certainly has its advantages. It also helps people to see the importance of building relationships with people all over the world, which is of great importance in our global economy.

It is certainly convenient to speak the leading international language, yet I don’t feel like I should necessarily be entitled to this without any additional work. Throughout the conference my “white guilt” was being felt strongly. Here I am in another country with miniscule knowledge of their language and I am blessed to be able to have the expectation, or hope that others will understand me despite the fact that I am speaking a foreign language.

I guess all that I can say is I have the utmost respect for my students. They are asked to be comfortable and fluent in three languages. Some students have a knowledge of five languages: Hindi, Gujarati, English, Sanskrit, and the Muslim students also know Urdu. I understand the obstacles of mastering so many languages from my failed attempts to become fluent in another language.

I want to teach my students the important place English has in this world and show them the necessity of learning it, but also understand the struggles they are having as a result of being asked to learn so many language. I want them to know that they are fortunate to be able to know more languages than most educated people in the United States.

Simple pleasures...

2009-09-28T08:57:00.000-07:00

This week in my 6th standard class I decided to try something different and I was so happy and surprised with the results. My 6th standard class doesn’t follow the same format as the other classes I teach. The principal told me not to follow the curriculum or book, but to “speak with them generally” because this is their first year of English classes. I meet with these students once a week and my co-teacher always tells me that “they have been eagerly awaiting my class.” This becomes apparent when I hear them cheering wildly as I walk down the hall towards their room. I like having the freedom to come into their class and teach them things that they won’t find in their books. I recently taught them the English names of different insects and ended class by teaching them The Itsy Bitsy Spider, which they loved! I think we sang it no less than 10 times and my co-teacher recorded me singing it on her cell phone.

This week I wanted to give them an opportunity to see something they haven’t seen before so I looked through our small collection of children’s story books and picked out some I thought they would enjoy. The English was simple enough for them to follow, but what really impressed them were the illustrations. At every turn of the page there was an audible gasp from every student. Their eyes opened wide to take in the vividly colored pictures and they stretched out their arms to touch the pages. After reading each page I would walk through the room to give each student a chance to see the pictures close up. At some points their enthusiasm for the books was too great and my co-teacher had to reprimand them in Gujarati to get them to sit patiently for their turn to look at the book. When the class bell rang the students sighed in disappointment because we had not finished the story.

It was so refreshing to see their enthusiasm and interest in the books. As I write this blog there are 350 books on their way to our school from the US and I can’t wait to get these books into the library so they can circulate through the students’ hands and minds. The simple joy of reading them a book made my day and I can’t wait to see what books I can share with them in the future.

life in the public eye

2009-09-27T00:52:00.000-07:00

Beside me as I write this, a local Gujarat newspaper sits on my desk, bearing a picture of Kathryn and I on the front page, dancing Garba, in mid clap and turn, our faces contorting unattractively. The memory of the persistent photographer, insistent on snapping us dancing haunts my memory...

Is this what television stars feel like, the day after a picture of them, drunk or fighting with a partner, appears on Page Six or OK Weekly? I'm starting to sympathize.

Today as Kathryn and I sat outside the auditorium, the middle school principal drove by on his motorcycle. "Today is a special program," he said. "You should come and be the judge."

Unfortunately- or fortunately- we both had class, so we could not be the judges of the competition. However, we promised to come at some point and watch.

I arrived late, two hours into the program. Entering the auditorium I saw a mass of students, separated by gender, sitting on the floor. I looked around for a chair in the back, noticing the teachers and parents sitting there. Then I raised my eyes. Sitting on stage, next to the principal, past the mass of students, past the parents in chairs, standing out like a soar thumb, was Kathryn.

She looked amused. We made eye contact and she grinned. I tried to sneak into the corner and sit but the principal saw me and beckoned me to the stage. I waded through the sea of students and climbed the stairs to the stage, taking a seat besides Kathryn.

"Welcome," she said dryly. This was my view from the stage:

What commenced, or continued, can only be called a Program of Cuteness. The program was a costume and singing competition. Each kid was dressed in some beautiful or silly or cute outfit, and came up on stage to sing a very short song. One kid was a strawberry, one a cow, and one was dressed like Gandhi, with a shaved head, glasses, and dhoti!

Here is an excerpt from the program. Many students forgot their lines, and had to look to teachers for encouragement!

The program ended and I sighed. My duty of sitting on a stage being watched by 500 people was over! People began talking excitedly and all the kids got on stage. Next to me, someone unwrapped a packet of pencils and put it on a chair. I stared at the pencils, thinking, "I'm going to have to hand out these pencils to the winner, aren't I."

Sure enough, the principal turned to me. "Now hand out a pencil to each child."

One by one, the students approached me, and touched my feet (!). I handed them a pencil and smiled. If they didn't touch my feet, a nearby menacing teacher would yell at them them in Gujarati.

When the program let out, I went back to my house, relishing being alone. I grabbed my purse and went into town to buy some chocolate. Ten minutes later, standing in front of a drug store counter, the friendly clerk eyed me and said, in Hindi, "I hear you were at the program!"

So much for anonymity.

"Teacher, teacher!!"

2009-09-24T09:11:00.000-07:00

After three full months of teaching, I have realized several things about teaching ESL in India. Unfortunately, my grand plans of completely immersing my students with conversational English and playing engaging games all the time have fallen by the wayside as I adjust to the expectations of Indian classrooms. Though I try my best to communicate with the students in English, it has become very apparent that this is not always possible, and translation into Gujarati is a frustrating, but necessary, part of every class that I teach. Sometimes I leave class confused if I have achieved anything more than my Indian counterparts and wondering what it is that I am doing here that is so important. Luckily, living at the school so close to my students gives me a chance to interact with them informally on a day to day basisand really restores my faith in what I'm doing here.

Spoken English boys at the Independence Day celebration, proud of their role in the ceremony.

I am daily harassed by my students with questions and descriptions of their days. Though it can be annoying to hear "TEACHER, TEACHER! HOW ARE YOU?!" all the time, it is also great to hear such enthusiasm from my students who are often too shy to speak in front of their peers in the classroom. Walking by students homes often results in short conversations with family members, or even invitations to dinner. Once, while walking to a friend's house, Claire and I were ambushed by several 7th standard students and ushered into a house. I was delighted to see one of my quietest boys in 7B inside the house next to his Ganesh statue, eager to show and explain (as best he could) the importance of this small statue.

Juhi at Krishna Janmashtami. She invited us to see the shrine in her home just after this picture was taken.

These encounters happen more often than I expected, especially when a religious festival is involved. The festival for Krishna's birthday prompted several students to seek us out in the crowd of people at temples. Once they had gotten our attention, these kids eagerly took us to each section of the temple, taught us how to correctly rock the cradle holding baby Krishna, and forced us to eat as much prasad as we could stomach. For the days leading up to Ganapati, we had students on our porch every night at 8 on the dot to ask us to go to the temple. While there, they would introduce us to their friends or family, and often serve as translators for us when the third person spoke no English. It is so great to hear how far they've come in these short months, especially in such an informal setting. I feel so lucky to be so involved in the community that my students are comfortable enough to speak English with me outside of the classroom!

"Teacher! How are you? You come temple?"