Teaching, touching moments and training

"I believe that we are here for each other, not against each other. Everything comes from an understanding that you are a gift in my life - whoever you are, whatever our differences." - John Denver.

For my parents who, having become almost professional users of WhatsApp, never fail to stay in touch (unless there is sport on the TV) and ask me all sorts of questions, the answers to many of which form the basis of these blog entries.  To my Mum I say: bear with it, the typing becomes easier.  To my Dad I say: please remember to talk when doing a voice recording. 

The difference in methods of teaching are almost as starkly different as black and white.  I find myself challenged in ways I never would be in the UK.  Paper is scarce (it is consistently damp from the moisture in the air), there is one printer/scanner (limited ink), no photocopier (unless we use the printer) and there are blackboards in each class.  So much of what I have used in the past is redundant – colourful visual aids, internet videos to support learning or resources that are just not available.  If this comes across as negative, then let me assure you, it shouldn’t.  It is merely stating the facts.  My feeling is: what better way to test myself and my skill as a teacher then to try and help bring a greater level of child-led, interactive learning in to this environment?  And, what is more, there is already progress.  In our English lessons for classes 1-4 we have introduced practical grouping for classifying nouns, adjectives, verbs and adverbs (progressing as the years increase).  We have broken up sentences, so the children can jigsaw them back together and we have used colour to identify the different parts of a sentence.  For the first time, the other day, we differentiated work so that the children who required support received a word bank of adjectives that they could choose rather than generate themselves.  Simple, to us, maybe, but actually, quite a new way of working here.  Satish is a fantastic teacher who has accepted me into his classroom, asks for ideas and I thoroughly enjoy working with him.  He is gracious, eloquent and is not afraid to take chances, which is not easy here.  The emphasis is on the right answer rather than necessarily understanding the process or the different routes one might employ to get to an answer.  As such many people, children and adults, will say ‘yes’ to everything to avoid looking as though they have misunderstood.  A great proportion of homework is copied from textbooks where, at the very most, children might have to read a passage to copy out the most relevant sentence.  Ask an individual for their interpretation or understanding of the learning and, in many cases, the answer will be a chant or incantation that has been learned by rote - ‘An adjective is a word that adds meaning to a noun or pronoun…’  Ask for an actual adjective and the reply could be ‘running’ as much as ‘dog’ as much as 'beautiful’.  As I have said before, there must be a place for this kind of learning in this part of the world, after all, the children’s level of knowledge, however ‘by rote’ we may think it is, is pretty impressive.  However, it is only those children that truly ‘get it’ who are able to implement the knowledge effectively.  Remember, most of the children are learning in their second language – a language many of their parents cannot support them with and, for whom, the syllabus is law.  Unfortunately, that same syllabus is littered with grammatical errors and incorrect English.  I truly believe that within the classes we teach, Satish and are working with greater effect and beginning to find a good pace to our lessons, which are more and more structured.  We combine practical working with board work and traditional 'by rote' learning as we take things gradually and ensure the changes are manageable for children.  We are incorporating more variety in our classroom management styles.  We plan, something quite new here (which Satish had adopted before I arrived), in simple sentences and work hard to fit this in to lunch time and free periods (a couple) so that Satish can focus on his personal and home responsibilities once school is finished – the animals, his lodgers etc.

There are so many outside influences that affect the operation of the school and how it is expected to run that slow, small steps are the only way to proceed.  Satish and I are demonstrating that the syllabus can be covered without having to rely on copy and rote learning and that there is time to make it more engaging for children.  

(Monsoon over, teaching in the open air)

(Keeping the grass short, using local resources!)

Word is getting out and a conversation with two of my female colleagues, where they asked advice about how to engage Year 8 students who were getting bored after lunch, was a leap forward for me.  I had taken a Year 8 class in the period after lunch a few days before, so I knew exactly what my colleague was talking about.  We chatted about options and she is planning to do an interactive treasure hunt type grouping game with Nepali vocabulary in the playground.  In History she also wants to incorporate a playground questions and answer matching lesson as the children are struggling to retain dates and names for their study on the Mogul Empire. We talked about how, instead of writing it on the board, having the children find clues or words (perhaps outside) that lead to an answer or groups of answers, might get them more active and attentive after the lunch time period.  Obviously, my Nepali is below basic, so I am not sure if the examples I was giving of how they might construct a sentence in English (the articles are missing from the majority of writing) in a practical manner are transferrable to their language lesson, but it is yet, another, small step when looking for positive ways to engage children interactively, with the support and willingness of the teachers that are responsible for teaching them. 

Meanwhile, in other news, I have taught Year 9 Geography, or rather they have taught me, and I now know what ‘weathering’ is.  I also sat in Year 9 Chemistry, which was incredibly difficult.  It was about solvent and solutions, but between the accent and the technical nature of the lesson, 75% of it passed me by.  There seems to be a great rush to introduce phonics for pronunciation here and we should definitely consider it to aid early reading and writing, but actually, as one volunteer colleague said to me “Indian English is a perfectly acceptable form of English”.  Should we feel the need to correct pronunciation?  Indeed, the young people in Year 9, with their up to date knowledge and their much stronger understanding of the Indian pronunciation in English were obviously much more ‘in the know’ than I was during the Chemistry lesson.  Again, what was missing (for me) was the confidence, or indeed even the realisation, to answer the question independently without being reminded what the text book says.  Small steps.  It is all positive and, even though, the Year 6-10 lessons (which are infrequent) have me challenging my own knowledge, I can often replace these with English grammar lessons which are stronger than my other teaching at this level.  On the point about phonics I have been asked to write a report on the relevance of phonics in these schools and submit it to the Mondo trustees.

In the lower groups, I can engage the children much more readily (and one would hope so – he laughs).  Having prepared for Year 8 History the other day, I was then asked to cover the Maths teacher in Year’s 2 and 1 for the morning.  “OK, I thought, where to start?”  After a quick look at the text book to see what was last learned (division – done only if you know your multiplication tables).  Quick thinking gave me a lesson in even and odd numbers with Year 1.  Clearly a new concept and just the thing for the 7 sets of number cards I had brought with me.  From tractors to sunflowers, the cards ranged from 1-11, to 1-31.  Great differentiation (laughs again).  We dispensed with the text book and did a practical lesson.  It was great to see the children working in groups ordering numbers by adding two.  We added two with the children in a row each raising their arms in turn – 2,4,6… - you get the picture.  It was the busiest, but most focused lesson yet.  After that, I got to Year 2.  We did repeated subtraction for division.  The children were so attentive and focussed so well.  We used cups on trays and pencils in cups to demonstrate what was happening for the repeated subtraction.  Once they began doing their own calculations (this is where I would have liked practical resources for every child, but alas no).  They managed well, but for two or three of them, their (great) struggle to count backwards from 50-0, made repeated subtraction impossible.  With no hundred square or similar it was a bit of a struggle.  Sadly, I only had number cards up to 31 which, although adequate for 28/7, they couldn’t help with 63/9.  Mental note – ‘print some hundred squares and number lines when next we have ink’ – or perhaps it’s a job for when I am Darjeeling.  And finally, what a joy in Year 3 when the children (the children) realised that they could use their multiplication facts to do division too.  Literally, half the class went “ooohhhhh” at the same time as they realised.  A real penny dropping moment. 

               

So, all in all, a challenging and positive experience at school thus far.  Everyone has been very accommodating, but it is easy to see why a short-term volunteer may get very frustrated at the (perceived) lack of progress during their time here.  For me, luckily, my stay is an extended one and so, the small, yet I believe, strong steps of progress that have been made so far can be built upon.  This gives hope to the idea that learning and new ways of working will be more embedded and therefore sustainable when I do depart this incredible mountainside village.

Other news - When I returned home last weekend, from a stay in Kalimpong with 5 other volunteers who were all out at the same time, SM and Sunita had painted their house.  Not only had they painted the outside of the house, but they had also painted my bedroom.  I went away, and it was blue.  Now, it is lime green.  It’s wonderful.  All my things had been carefully put back and my bedding had been changed too.  I was given a padlock for my doors at the beginning of my stay here and I have been instructed to lock the door every time I am not in the vicinity of the house.  My instinct says this is just a precaution, more than a huge concern, but it is another indication of how much they want me to be safe and cared for. 

(Home sweet home - please note, sample of own hand washing, drying on the line!)

Whilst in Kalimpong a week ago, it was lovely to catch up with Lorraine, Graham, Natalie, Ruth and Chris(tina).  Lorraine and Chris have been here four and three times before respectively.  Usually for between two and six weeks, although the first time was longer.  This is a great reflection on how working right at the coal face of these schools can be so rewarding - volunteers do return.  Of course, it's also very useful as the rest of us (all new) now have some history as to how some of the schools have reached where they are.  We have all had very different experiences thus far and will continue to do so.  Over the next few weeks the volunteers I have met will, one by one, disappear off, some on travels and others back to the UK.  Lorraine lives for 5 months of the year in the Gambia, where she accommodates an extended family in her compound, which also includes her home.  The family care for the place in her absence and when she is there she helps with the education and welfare of the children, and some of the adults too.  Her love for the country began with a volunteering experience  40 years ago when it must have been a vastly different place.  It was a fantastic weekend comparing notes and coming up with strategies of how best we might help a) the children b) the schools c) each other and d) Mondo more widely as an organisation.  This is the first time that so many volunteers have managed to come together whilst here in India for quite a while.  It was good to chat and find out what priorities we felt might be worthwhile me focusing on during my time here and, also what priorities should be conveyed to other volunteers who may come out.  Our Sunday consisted of drafting a plan of action for the Headteacher training we have devised and will be delivering on Saturday 13^th October. 

Charity fundraising for Run with Roshni - a charity to get people into running (Me, Nat, Chris, Graham, Lorraine)

As well as a day of work-related bits, Nat, Ruth and I also spent a day walking in the hills behind Kalimpong.  We visited Dello Gardens and viewpoint, from where you get incredible views across the valley.  During October the clouds begin to lift, and the views will become much clearer, but for now, they are still a little misty.  After Dello Gardens we walked along to a Buddhist monastery and a Buddhist statue.  The prayer flags around the statue were brightly coloured and there were hundreds of them.  Further along the road was a huge statue of Hanuman, the King of the Monkeys who rescued Sita from the clutches of Ravana in the story that is celebrated, by Hindus, at Diwali.  There is so much colour and vibrancy to the statues and they are well kept and clean.  The closeness in location of these different statues is testament to the incredible diversity of faith and belief that exist in this colourful, vibrant and busy part of our world.  It is fairly straightforward to know the variety of faiths that are followed in India, but it is proving very difficult to keep up with the castes that different people belong to and which traditions from different faiths, as well as those from their own caste, people follow.  Different castes, for example, have certain meats they cannot eat (Satish Sir is from the Gurung caste and therefore does not eat pork).  Then, of course, the vast majority of people, including Satish, don’t eat beef, but rather ‘beouf’, which is water buffalo.  I do hope that I will be able to get a clearer picture during my time here, but I think it fair to say that people here also have a difficult time explaining it.  Some celebrate, maybe three different beliefs.

(Views)

(Lush, green vegetation)

(Ruth and Nat in Dello Park)

(Stunning colour and vibrancy of prayer flags)

(Selfie at Shri Shri Shri)

(Kalimpong)

During the past week, I have realised I forgot to say about the quinine plantation that this area is famous for.  On my very first day of school we visited the racks upon racks of the bitter bark of the Cinchona tree which had been collected and was being dried ready for delivery to the quinine factory.  Apparently, it can take 2.5-3 months for the bark to dry.  In addition to, yet another way the forest provides for the village, I now understand passion fruit and pomegranate grow here too.

(Quinine bark drying outside)

The other evening, I had dinner at Sunita’s parents house as they had their ancestor’s memorial celebration.  I am becoming quite used to sitting quietly by myself whilst all around speak Nepali.  I am often to be found in the centre of things (as a guest always is) and so it is usually the males and heads of the family who I share my dinner with.  The majority of the females are cooking and serving, along with some of the older children such as Reshav and Atit.  I think next time I may ask if one of them can be my translator, because I am sure I am missing out on lots of information about local life and traditions - not to mention the fact that they can tell me what is being said about me too!  I had woken that morning feeling somewhat discombobulated.  A bit dizzy, incredible tired and with a headache.  I can’t remember the last time I woke up feeling quite so poop (without alcohol to blame), so was a bit concerned.  As I was awake so early I took a couple of paracetamols and went back to bed for an hour.  Waking feeling a little better, the headache had almost disappeared by the time we arrived at school.  Following that there was no re-occurrence.  Who knows?  With some of the huge insects around me, I did think for one moment I’d been bitten, and it was making me feel naff.  We have a (they say honey bee, I say monstrous wasp) nest in the front room and Atit, Reshav and I have all been stung.  Atit especially swells up like a balloon – I am not sure it is healthy, but I am told it is good for their immune system.  Bottom line, by the end of the day, I was feeling back to normal, old me.  I say normal, whatever that is, but I guess there are some changes: I have a totally different taste in my mouth most of the time (spices?); my washing habits have become, well, primitive; I am not sure I can remember how to use a western toilet; I am asleep by 9.00pm most nights; I can speak a bit of Nepali and I can’t remember ever sleeping quite as well as I do.  Still, whatever it was that upset my system, it’s gone, thank goodness. 

Oh, I forgot to say.  A couple of weeks ago, I was walking up and down the 100 precarious steps outside the house for my daily exercise.  I was on about flight 4 and the church bell started signalling the call to work.  Each day the Labour office calls people to assign them jobs for that day in the area.  Some people will get work, but if there is not enough, others may not.  The Labour office is towards the top of the village and used to be the old English colonial home of the resident landowner/boss.  It is a fairly old looking building now but is still used for the function of labour instructions.  Anyway, whilst I was walking I met a few people walking to the Labour office – I usually do.  However, on this particular day I decided I should say more than just ‘Namaste,’ so I wished a couple of people a good day.  There were a few smiles and laughs (I think I told you).  However, what I didn’t know was that one of the women I said it to was going in to hospital to have (may be lost in translation) her gall bladder out.  Fast forward a week or so and Sunita and a friend went to see the lady as she was recuperating.  She told Sunita the story of the English man and how he had said ‘Have a good day’ in Nepali and how she couldn’t believe a) he was speaking Nepali and b) that he had chosen that day to say it.  She said she believed it brought her luck for the operation.  I really can’t ask more for that - if there was ever a reason to smile or say good morning to someone (even if it is in a different language) then there it is!  It made me smile for the whole day.

NB – Did you know? A walnut grows on a tree looking a little like a smooth kiwi to begin with.  It is only as it ripens and dries that is becomes brown and hard and falls off the tree.  I have yet to reach the original ‘nut’ to get a good picture as they all appear to grow very high up.

During my final afternoon of the week, school had finished at lunchtime - we had broken up for a two-week holiday that is held over Dussara, and so I was invited to accompany SM to see an Uncle who is unwell.  He lives some 300m down in Lower Kashyem – it’s a steep drop.  The Uncle has become paralysed in his left arm.  Although he can move the upper part, from the elbow to the finger tips, has become gnarled and immobile.  It seems as though there may be quite severe arthritis and I wondered if the paralysis was from a stroke, but it is, apparently, unknown why this has happened.  The man has been to hospital in both Kalimpong and Siliguri.  When we arrived, the man was lying in his bed.  A much thinner version of a man once active with a physical life tending his smallholding and working in the village, he has been ill for some 12 months.  As he moves to sit up to drink water, he hauls himself up with his right arm, pushing up on the mattress, assisted by his wife who sits attentively at the head of the bed.  His left arm hangs in his lap as SM holds the cup of water.  It is clear the negative impact this is having on the man’s mental wellbeing too.  His son, daughter-in-law and grand-daughter (in Class 4 at New Rise) all live at the family home too.  The home is a simple structure – wattle and daub type construction, with no ceiling, just empty space up to the corrugated metal roof.  There is no glass at the windows and as the afternoon sun disappears over the hill, there is a slight chilliness to the air.  The dim light goes on.  Looking up, the room reminds me of a smaller version of an old barn at Gorcombe Farm (home of my Aunt and Uncle) who we used to visit countless times as children when on holiday from Germany.  The simple wooden floor, the wandering chickens, the battered walls and slightly damp atmosphere.  SM had a brought a few bits at the shop – sweets, biscuits and so on.  The man’s wife lit one of the cigarettes for him.  SM was scolding his Uncle, because he has not been eating his dinner and has been surviving on biscuits.  As I sat and listened to the conversation, some translated, some not, I felt a great of belonging.  The scene has been played out in all families at some point.  The scenery is different for sure, but the picture of a sick relative being supported by his family is something we can all relate to.  It was simply as if I had always lived here.  The condition of the home, the comparative difficulties the family compared to my family life in the UK, did not evoke pity or admiration, but acceptance.  SM and I drank Tombya and sat with the old man and his wife for an hour or so.  It was beginning to get dark outside and the granddaughter came in to sit with us.  She speaks very good English and we chatted about her excitement at the new clothes she will buy for Dussara.  The pleasure, pride and, to an extent amazement at which her grandparents watched her as she talked to me.  As we chatted the mice came out to play.  Not a particularly favourite animal of mine, there I sat, barefoot, on a low stool as the two or three creatures scurried around looking for something to eat.  I smiled as I thought of how relaxed I felt (and it had little to do with the Tombya).  I will admit to having felt a little nervous at making it home – no streetlights and no torch – and it was getting darker!  One lesson I still have not learned is that, when SM invites me out anywhere for ’30 minutes’, it can easily turn into 3 hours and extend way past sunset, due to the kind hospitality and respect people have in this community.  I really should take a torch with me all the time.  We said our goodbyes to the family we had come to see, with a final reminder from SM for the old man to begin eating proper food.  Rice is a panacea for most things and for the old man, “He must eat his rice to give him energy, to make him well.” We began the climb home.  I say climb, but it was more a scramble.  Me in my flip flops making a precarious attempt at climbing up and over the stony staircases, Tiger (the dog) getting under my feet and attracting the attention of the defensive dogs of the properties we passed.  It is isn’t the first time my thoughts wandered fleetingly to whether my insurance covered me for this (laughs to himself).

So, I have been here for four weeks.  It is hard to believe that, in such a relatively short time, I have somehow come to treat this wonderful place as home.  I guess there are those people who will think it is because I know, in the back of my mind, that it is only temporary.  Others, that it is the limited anxieties I might have living so much more simply.  For me? I believe that it is a result of, not only the friendly, welcoming and community people of Kashyem, but also down to the sense of adventure, the confidence and desire to seek a new challenge, that I have felt developing within me over the past few years, not least of all during my time with the incredible people, both local and international, I met during my time in Mongolia.  What I do, I do for myself as much as for the community I am working with here.  It is a wonderful day to day experience in life lived differently, a learning curve, one continuous life lesson, quite literally, on cloud nine. 

And, to the two people to whom this blog is dedicated, thank you for your words of support and advice, but especially the ones of encouragement.  For the few frustrating WhatsApp exchanges (usually as I wait endlessly for Mum to type her message), there have been countless fantastic ones – and one or two video calls to boot.  Retelling some of my adventures to you only serves to increase the experience.  Thank you.