Life without electricity, internet...or fuss

“You are never too old to set a new goal or dream a new dream.” – C. S. Lewis

The school day starts with all the children lined up outside the school.  They have an attention/at ease drill for 2 commands and then they all chant the Indian national anthem together.  They then recite the school prayer together.  It is repeatedly so quickly I needed a copy of it to follow the prayer – after two weeks I had only made out about six words and that was after I checked to see if they were speaking English.  One of the teachers leads a short ‘assembly’ which, in my time here, have covered rubbish, manners and focus on lessons amongst other things - things similar to the UK.  The playground is the only space large enough for all the students to gather.  There is no large space internally, just enough rooms to hold classes and the ‘office’. 

For all those teacher friends out there frustrated with the level of PE equipment, or lack thereof, in schools, I implore you to let it go.  It’s easy to say from thousands of miles away, I understand that, but the pitiful box of old, broken PE equipment here would literally bring tears to your eyes.  As with probably the vast majority of countries, the boys here are obsessed with football and, an old, frayed football gets plenty of use.  When I bought the two new, smaller balls for the primary year groups a couple of weeks ago, you would have thought Christmas had come.  Our badminton set(s) are battered and the rackets have holes big enough to let the shuttlecock through, almost.  Yet, the children play quite contentedly with them.  It is quite something to see.  Sports/Play equipment is something I think might become high priority for the extra money raised by everyone to help me get here.  Cricket is played at school, although it does not the number one sport – football holds that position.  Names like Messi (I thought he was French, apparently, he is Argentinian – who knew?) are thrown about regularly and the boys all have the (not genuine) football kit of some European (mainly British) club which they wear often outside school.  I am still frequently asked “Which team do you support?” – clearly, they do not know me well enough yet!

Lessons run for 45 minutes or 90 minutes.  Most of the secondary students have 45 minute lessons and then primary have 90 minute Maths and English with 45 minute of other lessons such as Nepali, Geography, History, Science and Computers.  As I mentioned in the last blog, some year groups have a seemingly huge amount of English.  Some of the topic lessons are focused more directly, the older the children get.  The classrooms are functional, but if we lose electricity (once a day at least – for varying lengths of time) then some of them become almost impossible to work in as they are so gloomy.  My hat off to the children and teachers as they are clearly much more used to being able to cope with this than I am. 

The majority of the children spend break times chatting with friends, running or playing with an old balloon or bouncy ball they have brought in from home.  Engaging with the children is now a little easier as I have begun to better understand the thicker, local accent with which many speak, and they can better understand mine.   Words that contain b, v, w, sh, th and t are most difficult as it is commonplace for them to pronounce them differently.  ‘have’ is pronounced ‘habe’ and ‘shop’ is pronounced ‘sop’ for example.  This is something the teachers are also only too aware of.  But, we are all progressing well, and the children are almost always keen and eager to learn.  The other day, I was sitting with a group of Year 6 boys watching three large ants 4 times the size of ours) walking backwards and forwards to their hole with pieces of food.  It was seriously mesmorising stuff, as if watching a David Attenborough documentary there and then.  Describing what was happening, the boys used an exceptional level of English and were happy to be pushed with their pronunciation and sentence structure.  I am not sure I was so happy when they then moved on to tell me about the anacondas and the cobras living in the forest!  But, I persisted with ensuring what they told me was, at least, spoken correctly if not entirely factually correct - I am telling myself it is not.

Talking of animals, somebody asked me about tigers via Messenger – thanks for that!  I hadn’t really thought about it much before but, since receiving the message, I have locked my bedroom door (as it opens direct to the outside) with the deadbolt.  Anyway, the following morning I asked about Bengal tigers and have been assured that they do not live around here.  They need much denser jungle to live.  My research before I left to come to India did not flag up anything quite so ‘serious’ as local tigers, but continued research will take place the next time I have access to the internet, especially in light of what the Year 6 boys told me about snakes.  NB - Since writing this part of the blog a fellow volunteer in Darjeeling has been told a leopard has been spotted in the forest close to his school!?

Each morning, when I Ieave my room the fresh smell of incense permeates the early morning air and I have wondered what it is and why.  Apparently, Sunita lights an incense stick every morning, which is placed on the front door frame of the house (right outside my room).  Sunita and the boys are up not long after the sun (5/5.30am) and the incense is part of a daily prayer that she does first thing each morning.  SM and Sunita’s youngest daughter (19) stayed a few days ago and I saw part of the ritual as she conducted it after we were all up.  An incense stick is taken from the small shrine in SM and Sunita’s living quarters.  It is lit and a prayer is chanted.   The prayer asks for all parts of the family to stay well and not to fight.  The prayer also asks for children to learn well that day.  Once the prayer is said, a small bell is rung – I have often heard this too.  The incense is then walked through the house to the front door where it is left to burn.  This is a blessing on the house and the family for the day ahead.  Above the front door is Puja, which is to ward of bad spirits or ghosts.  Each Dussara a small mixture of cow dung, uncooked rice, a coin and grasses is also pasted above the door.  This acts as a kind of invitation to others just as the diya lamps do in Diwali.  The paste will be refreshed at Dussara this year, which is on 19^th October.  The Nepali people pray at various points in a day, for example Santa said a short prayer when we crossed a bridge on the way to Darjeeling.  As I understand it the prayers are to the deities of such things (you remember 17^th September?) asking for their blessing and security as they, pass over a bridge for example.

(Puja to the left, and paste dead centre, incense stick to far right)

Despite the twists and turns and fairly steep nature of driving here, I don’t think, generally, it is the most unsafe I have ever felt when being driven around.  Sure, there are the hair pin bends with a 500m drop to the side of you but, actually the ride always feels pretty controlled.  I have begun to wonder whether the road signs advertising road safety have anything to do with this –

‘Safety is gainful. Accidents are painful.’  ‘Arrive in peace, not in pieces.’  ‘Keep alert, accidents avert.’

They are pretty unique to a stranger.  I guess to a local though they might just seem commonplace and not pay much attention.  Still, the views from some of the hairpin bends on narrow track roads hundreds of metres up are spectacular.

My first full day without electricity has come and gone.  In fact, it turned out to be almost 48 hours.  It was a bit of a challenge – the dark classrooms for one thing.  But it was also a lesson in preparation.  Nothing altered really.  The one solar powered light lit the kitchen and we played cards by candlelight.  Homework and planning were a little challenging in the very quickly fading light around 5.30pm, but otherwise everything went on pretty much as normal.  No one can predict when or even say why the power goes.  The electricity travels from a station in Kalimpong so it comes a long way.  Trying to locate the issue must be a bit of a task.  Still, everything moved as normal with a little hiccup for those whose phones were not fully charged.  As I can barely get messages through to me here, I am becoming less and less dependent on the phone than I was before.  Although I do miss being able to update people or upload my blog regularly – you'll be wading through my words as if walking through treacle when these finally make the internet.  I don’t miss TV and there is something very nice about being unable to access any kind of news.  Mind you, I read the headlines of an Indian paper (the Telegraph) whilst in Kalimpong last.  Next time, I’ll buy one perhaps.  I figure any major international news might make it on to the front pages.

Sadly, my second hand-wash was as successful as the first – too much soap probably and definitely a little left in the clothes – now I know why the rinse cycle on a washing machine takes so long!  No progress in my learning on this one – not yet at least.  But, whether it is bucket washing my clothes, or myself or any of the other things that have required me to revert back to basics, life has become quite liberating.  I only realised I didn’t have a mirror when I thought I ought to shave (the goatee beard is still there) and as for ironing – for one that ironed almost everything, I have made it thus far without even finding out if there is one.  I think there must be because SM’s work shirts have a very strong crease up the arms.  Anyway, don’t worry Mum, my teeth are always clean, and my finger nails neat and tidy too.  But, seriously, despite this feeling of liberation, it is not an easy life in Kashyem.  People often have more than one type of livelihood and when they get home from work they will need to feed animals, harvest a cardamom crop or plant beans for example.  SM, as Head of New Rise Academy (I can only imagine the images the word ‘academy’ has brought to mind) has an important position within the community.  He will often be invited to attend weddings, funerals and other ceremonies, as well as meetings, on top of his role at the school too.  Once dark hits, that is it - it literally is pitch black and you need a powerful torch to go anywhere as the terrain is rough.

                         (Goats)                                                               (Pigs)

(Cockerel, ruling the roost outside the back of the homestay)

(Sunset from the park down the road)

(Cardamom plants)

(Distances from Kalimpong - uphill or downhill whichever way you go)

(Friendly locals in the village of Kashyem)

Now, there is one luxury that I feel I should own up to.  It is not of my own making, but rather another example of how SM and his family have taken on the role of caring for me so graciously.  Every day, when I get home I am given a cup of black tea and 5 biscuits.  It seems very extravagant given that I have rarely seen the family eat anything that could be described as a treat and no-one else will eat a biscuit when I offer one.  The cost must also be an additional for the family as it is not something they would normally have.  Every Monday, I pay 2,000 Indian Rupees to Sunita (£1 = 94 rupees).  It is basically £20 and covers my food and lodgings for the week.  It is insane how little it is.  I have begun to try to help with washing up and tidying up to help out and do my bit.  However, often, when discovered, I am ushered to sit down and one of the boys takes over.  I am very much seen as a guest.  I am still eating from the brass, decorated plate (reserved for guests), rather than the plastic ones the family use.  I am happy to help, but I understand that children here are expected to learn all sorts of lessons that will develop their abilities for later on in life.  Every morning the children, without being asked, set about cleaning the school: emptying bins; sweeping classrooms and cleaning boards for example.  At home Atit and Reshav help feed animals, clean certain areas, wash their own school uniform and so   I don’t want to be a nuisance so do what I can when I can and focus on the things I definitely can do, such as help with homework.  Given the complete change of life that I am experiencing it is incredible that, thus far, this is the only situation I can say makes me feel slightly awkward.  In all other ways I think I am settling in very well, all things considered.  

The five biscuits situation has led me to look at ways to increase my level of activity and try to work off the carbohydrate rich meals.  Don’t get me wrong, I am loving the food and, so far, no ill effects.  It is fresh, full of flavour and cooked beautifully.  More on that in a moment.  Since being here I have tried to convert to a more succinct set of hours to fit in with my hosts.  I am almost there.  I am asleep by 9.30pm/10.00pm and up by 5.30am/5.45am.  It can be hard sleeping on such a full stomach, and so by 7.00am the other morning I had woken up, run for 30 minutes (not a pretty - or common - sight for the villagers), had a long bucket wash, washed my towel and written part of this blog.  The exercise was welcome, even if the hills weren’t.  After our first run, which focused too much on hills, we decided that our next run would start with a long steep climb up stairs to warm up and then a run out of the village on a more even (not flat) stretch of road.  Fewer houses would also mean fewer dogs to encounter (hopefully).  The majority of dogs are perfectly friendly, just a bit of a trip hazard.

Food!  The thing some of you were concerned about before I left and the thing I have had most questions about, from those I have been able to contact, since.  It is incredible.  I know I talked about it in the first blog, but I am going to again - there's a little bit more.  I eat fresh things every day.  My breakfast has consisted of either French toast, a pancake, a banana and the other morning … cornflakes with UHT milk.  Only occasionally have I had rice curried vegetable for breakfast – once beans and the other carrots, which were both delicious.  My lunch comes in what looks like a large flask with two little metals bowls inside.  Usually I will have chapati, roti or potato in one and then a vegetable curry in the other.  It might be beans or okra or carrots or potato.  Usually, I eat the curry with my chapati or roti and try to resist using a spoon or fork.  Sometimes, I may just have pasta, with spiced onion or squash.  The amount of food is small in comparison to what I might eat for lunch back home, but it is a much healthier sized portion, especially given the quite oily nature of some of the dishes.  Dinner is served with rice…quite a lot of it.  I am usually given a spiced vegetable on the plate and perhaps another on the side.  There is always a small bowl of dhal too.  Sunita, as promised, has increased the level of spice over time and I am managing quite nicely although the rest of the family often have pickles or a red accompaniment which would blow my head off.  I tried a little red pickle once and had to mix it in with a vast amount of dhal to make it cool enough to eat.  It is all very tasty though.  Dinner can be served with poppadoms, potato crispy things and sometimes chapati or roti.  Nothing has arrived that I have not been able to eat, and everything has been delicious.  The family do not eat meat very often.  I have been given buffalo once which was spiced to my level, but not on another occasion when again the curry was a dark red colour.  We also had the fish (that you saw being sold to us) on two occasions too.  My rice cooker of boiling water is readily available and it all works very smoothly.  I realise that it has only been just over two weeks but, as of now, there is nothing mundane about the food.  It is exciting and colourful and delicious – I now need to be brave enough to get my hands in and start eating with my fingers.  The rest of the family do, and it looks so natural.  They actually eat a lot of rice, the boys especially, who will eat it four times a day, going back for seconds at breakfast and dinner.  As I was writing this part of the blog Atit and Reshav brought a small plate with two ‘shell roti’ to me.  These are new to me.  They are made from rice powder, sugar and water (you can add cardamom or coconut too) and then fried.  They are definitely doughnut like in texture whilst looking more like a small pretzel in appearance.  

(Atit, myself and Reshav out for the morning run)

(Shell roti)

These carbs are going to need a lot of working off!  Haha – and as if that wasn’t enough new food – the very following day was my first Friday at school (I was in Darjeeling in my first week).  On a Friday I don’t get given lunch because it is market day in Kashyem and people come to the village to sell food and clothes.  The food that is sold is the traditional Momos, which most people may have heard of.  Cooked in steamers over open fire, momos can be made from either vegetable or meat.  On that particular day there was a choice of chicken, buffalo or pork.  I had pork – in for a penny, in for a pound.  I mean, no ill effects thus far, I was sure I could start taking chances.  The Momos are like dumplings.  The ones with buffalo were shaped very much like a Chinese dumpling and they had the same slightly shiny and almost see through appearance.  The pork and chicken ones were a softer dumpling and were more like the texture of dough. They were shaped like a little one of Santa’s sacks full of toys and tied at the top.  Inside were fried onion and pork.  They were seasoned but not heavily spiced.  The momos were served with a soup, almost clear, with fresh onion and coriander thrown in.  They were delicious.  I thought five was plenty, but my co-teachers (all of whom will enjoy Momo Friday with me) insisted I should eat more, so I managed another three – well it would be rude not to!  So far food has not been an issue in the slightest - lose weight?  Not here - the opposite seems true.

(Steaming momos)

(Before cooking)

(In a soup)

(The momos served to the staff on Momo Friday - and yes, that is the red, very hot pickle that I am also eating - just a spot - with each of my Momos)

There has been another day I have found difficult.  It centred mainly around my inability to retrieve an email because I cannot access wifi here.  A colleague at school has a dongle (something that apparently picks up and supplies wifi through the 4G phone network), but even that wasn’t strong enough on this particular day for me to access emails.  The email was not particularly urgent, but I found not being able to retrieve it frustrating.  Whilst, in itself, the issue was no biggy, it seemed to lead to other frustrations.  I felt out of the loop as it was result’s day at school, and everyone was obviously speaking the local language.  I had been really pleased when I learned of a post office in the neighbouring village, only to find out, on the same day as everything else, that it wouldn’t be open on the Saturday of that week for me to post my postcards.  You know, niggling things, that really should not be such a great deal, but seemed to just snowball.  I had also smacked my head on the door frame after two weeks of being so careful not to.  I am pretty tall compared to the average Nepali and so have to keep my head bowed in in some parts of the house.  It was just a bad day I guess, but the isolation and the fact that I was still relatively new to the whole scenario elevated the negative feelings.  I kept thinking back to my first day as I had promised myself I would.  To keep my thoughts positive.  I also had the exciting prospect of attending a wedding the following day and church on the Sunday.  There was much to look forward to and a couple of lessons that week had been particularly strong with the children demonstrating that they were adapting to a different way of teaching.  Plenty to get excited about.  Only one thing for it – get lost in a walk and stop feeling sorry for myself – focus on the good stuff!

The wedding was actually an introduction ceremony.  The couple, a bride from Kashyem and a groom for Sikkim, had been married a little while before in the groom’s home town.  This ceremony was to introduce the newly married couple to the bride’s friends and community.  There were about 200 people present.  The event did not require people to be in their traditional attire, but many were smart and the closest members of the community, such as the bride’s family wore bright colourful sari’s and some of the men the traditional Nepali outfit and hat.  Apparently, the outfit is called something like a ‘mongol’ and, perhaps unsurprisingly given the word, SM says that he thinks it derives from somewhere around Mongolia.  It would be funny to think I had arrived in a place that had a tangible connection to the place I last called home.  But, as the great Mongolian Empire took the silk road far south through China, it would not be unreasonable to think it possible.  The groom’s family had also travelled from Sikkim to be present at the introduction.  The celebration was held in the bride’s home.  Not large enough by itself, the neighbouring homes were also being used.  Rather like the community cardamom harvest, neighbours also help out on occasions such as these.  The venue was therefore on about 4 different levels, precarious steps of uneven stone getting one from each different place.  This did not stop a few of the women from wearing 2-inch platform shoes with 6-inch heels with their saris and somehow negotiating the climb or descent fairly ably.  Huge sheets of colourful fabric had been hung across one large levelled area where seats had been laid and a buffet table erected.  This was the main gathering focus.  On arrival,  SM and I were escorted to the furthest most house up the hill immediately for a drink and then went back to the central area to mingle.  Although I saw a few familiar faces in terms of parents from school, apart from a “Namaste.  How are you?”, they were not comfortable engaging in full conversation.  There was plenty to take in.  There seemed to be many people from the family and neighbours bringing food and drinks to people – the amount of food was incredible and there was so much of it – I seriously had no idea where it was all coming from. The kitchens of the houses were quite small.  After quite a lot of sitting, some drinking beer (or whiskey if you preferred), we were all invited to the buffet.  It was quite casual and a great introduction to a village event.  After eating, it was our turn to visit the bride and groom.  They were in a small room, highly decorated and it is customary for all guests to put a scarf of fabric around each of their necks and wish them well in their life together.  After I had done this on behalf of SM and myself, it is traditional to give a financial contribution to the bride and groom as they begin their journey.  Outside the little room was a man sitting at a desk with a ledger, into which he was entering the name of each guest and the amount of money they had given.  Once this part of the ceremony was finished the guests were welcome to leave.  SM and I began the walk down from Upper Kashyem while Sunita and some of her friends waited for a car.  We had taken a jeep (popular and very useful 4 while drive taxis that ferry people around the mountainous terrain) up to the house as it was the very last in the village, some 300 m plus higher than where we live.  As I mentioned the road runs out here, so most of the 15 minute journey was farm track – another reason for the jeep being a necessity.

  

(Me, SM and Sunita off to the wedding)

As we were walking back, I asked SM about the plants around us.  Reshav, Atit and I had talked quite a bit about the different things I had seen on our way to school and I wanted to check the information they had given me.  Nearly all the greenery is useful.  There are banana trees here, which, obviously, give bananas.  Cardamom plants are rife and provide an income for the individual families who have crops.  Bamboo grows all over the mountainside and has many different uses from building to holding up the washing lines.  There are guava and avocado trees and when parts of the fir trees die, the dry wood is used as incense.  Even the roadside bushes are harvested – one has long pointy centres that taper sharply. 

(Pointy tipped broom plant - its my own name not the Latin!)

When cut and dried these parts are bound together to make brooms.  Another can be woven to make mats.  There are also two wild herbs, not ones I am familiar with, maybe due to the Nepali word, but I also can’t place the scent.  The other day one of the students came in with a burn, holding a fresh, broken aloe leaf to it to cool it.  Although I haven’t seen it, this plant also grows here.  Finally, of course, there are the allotments I talked about earlier, with their abundance of growth.  Any of the greenery that can be used, is, with much of the excess feeding livestock such as goats.

A few pictures of the flora from our morning run.











                                              

SM had mentioned to me that we were to be visiting a friend of the family with SM’s brother for dinner the evening of the day we had attended the wedding.  He had said a couple of things about it, but I wasn’t sure I was really expecting what I encountered.  Before Dussara each year families conduct a ceremony to remember their dead ancestors.  The dinner we were attending was as guests as part of this ceremony.  The man of the household was sitting on the floor of one of the rooms with a large tray in front of him.  There were some large pillars of white, a candle, rice, an egg, some herbs, some holy water and burning incense on the tray.  The ceremony prays to the ancestors to remember them and watch over them.  The number of pillars links to the number of recent ancestors.  Sticking out of each pillar are the stem and dried flower of a plant found by the riverside which only blooms at night.  It is called ‘Totola’ locally (Latin name: Oroxylum indicum).  The man of the house says many prayers.  He flicks water from the herbs (a combination of herbs that can be crushed and used to help sooth stomach pains and sickness when one is unwell), he throws rice and he circles the incense around the tray.  The items relate to life: the egg signifying new life; the rice referring to their staple food for survival; the water on which we all live and the herbs as medicines to help.  The ceremony was quite intense, and the incense filled the room.  After a while a cockerel is brought in from outside.  The cockerel was to be sacrificed as part of the ceremony.  The head of the family circled the cockerel above the tray, he prayed and put rice, herbs and holy water on the back of the cockerel’s neck.  The cockerel seemed to become mesmorised by the process, or perhaps the incense, and soon became quiet and calm.  After another prayer the cockerel’s neck was broken he was removed from the room.  His head was brought back shortly after and it was placed on the tray.  Chickens are used to signify new life and the circle of life in countries the world over and there was something very meaningful about this part of the ceremony and the link it was supposed to make with the family’s ancestors.  After the incense and holy water had been circled around the tray and flicked, a dab of holy water was put into each of our hands.  We put a spot on our foreheads and licked the remainder.  This is to bless ourselves as part of the ceremony.  The egg, which had been broken shortly before the demise of the cockerel, was returned having been cooked over a coal.  Its blackened hard white was broken up and tossed over the tray.  At the end of the ceremony the egg shell, the stems and dried petals of the Tortola and the pieces of leaf under each pillar were gathered up and wrapped in a new banana leaf.  The man of the house then climbed up and retrieved the same package from last years ceremony from a hole above the door.  He replaced it with the fresh package.  The package will help to bless the house and keep the ancestors from being forgotten for the coming year. 

Following the ceremony, we sat down to eat.  Of course, it was chicken.  Not, the chicken, but chicken.  Eating mainly vegetarian in the time I have been in India, I hadn’t realised just how much the bones of an animal are part of the meal.  Everything we ate that evening was tasty, but I found spitting out tiny bits of chicken bone every two to three seconds pretty hard, especially when eating with rice.  Some of the pieces were tiny shards.  I am not sure I was terribly gracious with my removal of bones either.  If I had a choice, from now on, I would steer clear from chicken dishes on that basis, although on a positive note the meals were probably some of the spiciest I had eaten yet and they were as equally delicious as everything else I had eaten to that point.  That night was the latest night we had stayed up – 21.15hrs.

The following morning to my busy Saturday, I headed off to church for 10:45. One of my colleagues at school plays in a church band and so it made sense to attend that one.  It is the earliest church in the village.  Some 46 years old (it was founded the same year as I was born), the church was started by Finnish missionaries who arrived in Sikkim and West Bengal as early as 1895.  Given Kashyem’s rural position it was a time before they arrived here.  Hanging on the wall of a church is a poster of photographs of some of the missionaries, some key dates and also snippets of information about their work in places such as Kalimpong and Darjeeling.  Apparently, there is a cemetery in Darjeeling where some of the Finnish missionaries are laid to rest following their death here.  The church service is very music oriented, which suited me fine and I recognised ‘How great thy art’ which I sang along with in English, whilst everyone else sang in Nepali.  There was another tune I recognised, but I couldn’t place it.  I was welcomed to the church encouraged to greet them with the Nepali greeting at a church (which is akin to ‘God be with you’).  They were very welcoming.  

My colleague Zenus (pronounced Gin (the drink) - us) and I had to leave early as there was a football match taking place and we had the New Rise Academy team playing a final before the adult competition final from a local league.  During the half time period of the adult match, 8 of our year 8-10 girls were also performing a traditional Nepali dance, as were other girls from the surrounding villages during half time of the junior match.  At the football match both Zenus and I were welcomed with a scarf around our necks and seated under colourful banners.  We were requested to join the other special guests in the ‘box’, but due to supervising the students declined.  Coffee and biscuits were brought and I, along with all the ‘dignitaries’, was also announced to the incredibly large crowd that had gathered to watch the matches.  I am becoming quite used to being seen as a fairly original sight at village gatherings and being employed in quite unexpected roles.  It’s quite humbling and very kind.  The junior match was won by the school and both Reshav and Atit played a part.  Atit stood a head taller than most of the other children despite all being the same age.  One of the half time dancers was a little girl who took on all the attention and owned the pitch as she danced to the music.  The adult match started soon after the first match finished.  In my expert opinion it was being played too powerfully.  The pitch is not full size, and the ball was consistently kicked over the goal, off the side and down the hill or into countless gardens.  There was a lot of stoppage time.  A 0-0 draw at the end of the match, played in two, 30-minute halves, meant penalties.  It was all very exciting and, as I understand it, the right team one – although some of the secondary school girls disagree.  Our dance team did a fantastic job dancing during half time and they looked great in their traditional outfits.

My third of week of school began with the announcement that we would be having a holiday on the Tuesday.  The 2^nd of October is Mahatma Gandhiji’s birthday and it is honoured each year with a national holiday.  As the village of Barranumba is visible from my village and is where a recently arrived volunteer (Nat) is working, we arranged to meet at her school, called Alpha, which is right next door to her homestay (also with the Head and his wife).  Actually, the rooms of the house are part of the school that the Head built himself.  Barranumba is a much smaller village than Kashyem and the school runs from pre-school to Class 4.  It has 54 children on roll.  It was really interesting to see another school, especially one with a Library!  There was a bookcase with at least 100-150 books of various different type all sorted neatly (Nat’s facilitation over the weekend).  Talking with the Head there (NB – we work on initials for the Heads) it was interesting to hear that the problems he faced sounded very similar to SM’s at New Rise and, yet, he had different ways of targeting them.  Both Heads are very keen on phonics and pronunciation, but I think NB himself teaches vocabulary and grammar through individual teaching rather than by following textbooks.  The school appears a little better resourced than New Rise generally, but that it hard to quantify as it is not a great deal more so.  Whilst we were having lunch, I learned of a government school in the locality which has just 2 pupils and 5 teachers.  As I have said before state teachers are very well paid here.  Because of the size of the village this school are given grants for 200 children (which they claim are on the roll) by the government (who believe the claim).  For each claim they are receiving 200 Indian rupees per child for uniform and 20 rupees per child, per day for lunch.  Apparently, inspections should be carried out, but if schools pay the right official 500 rupees to look the other way, they will.  The right official can become very well off with the right number of 500 rupees coming in.  This ‘rumour’ goes some way to understanding why so many parents pay small stipends to people such as SM and NB who have set up schools to educate children here in a more stable environment.  It goes a long way to understanding how dedicated and hard working the teachers working in their schools (who do not get paid if students can’t pay) are.  Even if it is slightly exaggerated, it also goes some way to highlighting a dreadful problem with rural, isolated government funded schools here.  Whilst there is nothing to be done about a problem out of my control, having a better understanding of how things work, focuses the attention and gives meaning to the small ways in which children are being supported here.  You don’t crack a walnut with a sledgehammer after all.  On Monday of this week I spent the day teaching all of the upper school classes from Class 6-10 a short (45 minutes) lesson in phonics and how understanding the phonics can improve their pronunciation of some of the sounds that are being confused, either through muscle development, the way in which sounds are made in Nepali or miscommunication of teaching.  Primarily, it revolves around sounds such as s instead of ‘sh’, ‘v/b’, ‘d/t’ and ‘th’.  It was a really fun day as lessons I would normally be doing with children far younger were understood so much better and the fun they had as they tried making the different sounds was great to see.  It was a small step, but revisiting it with the children as we go, continuing to hold conversations with them and playing games to hold their interest is what they want so they can improve, and they are all very keen to – especially as they get older and some have hopes to visit the UK or US to study or travel.

At New Rise it costs 740 rupees a month for a child in Primary to study - can you remember the exchange rate?  About 100 rupees to £1.  That is not a typo.  Secondary children pay just over 800 rupees a term.  Whilst government teachers are taking home 20,000 plus rupees, teachers in schools like New Rise average between 2,500 - 4,000 rupees a month.  That's £40.  The dedication to see their local community children succeed is absolutely undeniable!


      (The local drink - Toymba - millet is boiled and then cooled.  Yeast is added and it is left to ferment in the original grain bag the millet came in.  Fermenting can take anything between seven and twenty-one days - the longer, the stronger)

Drinking the Toymba at the home of NB, Head at Alpha School and homestay for Nat.

Oh, before I forget, we can add walnut trees and a variety of cherry tree to our list of plants that provide something to the village – the list seems endless!  The cherry trees surrounding us are infested with yellow and black caterpillars, which are crawling up the house as they look for somewhere to metamorphise.  The caterpillars also have white hairs, making them pretty potent.  Atit has already been ‘stung’ by one and the resulting injury looked more like a burn or large blister than a sting.  Luckily, it appeared to go down over the course of the day, but it was obviously very uncomfortable.

Where I currently find myself is a world away from anything I have experienced in such depth before.  In Northern Thailand, I lived with the Karan people in the forest bordering Myanmar for a week.  In Mongolia, I was able to appreciate the rural living of the nomads, but only experienced it for real in short bursts.  Here, I live as a local person, enjoying the same food, transport and way of life they enjoy.  The ways in which I can offer assistance (however small) keep growing.  For example, on one particular day, I found one of my colleagues poring over the computer looking up how to insert a picture and how to draw a line in a word document.  Satish studied basic computer lessons 10 years ago but has only recently had the opportunity to practise his skills on a computer here.  I am no technology whizz, but many people here (including teachers) want help to learn basic computer skills.  It is another way I can offer my help.  And, so I should.  After all, the experience, learning and care that I am receiving from the residents of this mountainside village is priceless. 

A few days after my ‘bad day’, I was perched on a little stool, washing bowl between my legs, scrubbing a curry stain from a pair of trousers.  It was balmy, and the sun was beginning to descend.  Behind me, the hens were scratching around and occasionally squabbling over the left-over pig food.  The pigs were just below me, next to the squash plantation, grunting contentedly.  Sunita and the boys were in the kitchen chatting and SM was sorting wood, feeding the animals and chatting to his brother who was cement plastering one of the new rooms to my right.  It was, quite literally, a moment in time that will be hard to forget.  The view as I looked out over, and between, the trees to the back of the house revealed a cloud-masked valley, which had lost none of its beauty for the clouds, seemingly, cascading down and around it.  Perhaps, they even added to the view’s magnificence.  It was a perfect moment.  How lucky I felt to be here, to be integrating and engaging with this community.  A community that survive without so much I take for granted, who only had electricity in 1999, and whose generosity of spirit and rich, traditions and culture leave me breathless, but wanting to know more.   Here’s to many more moments like this.  I have a strong feeling these incredible moments, of almost disbelief, will far outweigh any ‘bad days’ that may be ahead.  How privileged I am to be here.

"The biggest challenge we face is shifting human consciousness, not saving the planet.  The planet does not need saving - we do!"