The Toughest Part

"If you don't think your anxiety, depression, sadness and stress impact your physical health, think again. All of these emotions trigger chemical reactions in your body, which can lead to inflammation and a weakened immune system. Learn how to cope, sweet friend. There will always be dark days."
- Kris Carr

Still in Ambiok Busty, we had the most, almighty rain storm.  The water pouring down on the tin roof made a sound somewhere between a lullaby and a drill.  It reminded me a bit of holidays away in the caravan when I was a kid.  The six of us in our Dethleffs caravan touring Europe year on year – each time a new country, a new caravan site, a new exciting adventure.  Barbequing under a double lilo in the pouring rain in Denmark, the warm, sunny beaches of Yugoslavia or the slide that went into the sea in Malmo, Sweden – it’s a reminder of just what an extraordinary and incredibly fortunate childhood I had.  As we all began to grow, Dad had to put a hammock type bed across one sleeping compartment and one of my brothers was deemed just the right size to sleep in it.  Too many nights to count and the three of us at slumber under the hammock would be rudely awoken by Dan (son 3 of 4) falling from above and crashing onto our sleeping trio.  The number of bloody times he fell out of the thing, it is a wonder why we didn’t try any one of the other three of us.  Perhaps we did, I forget.  Eventually though, two of us were deemed old enough to escape to a sleeping pod in the awning and finally all four of us were able to sleep without the risk of flying bodies interrupting our dreams.

 

The same evening as the huge downpour, only earlier, our water had gone off.  Diwaker and I went off checking the hose that travels from the water tank across the garden, through the forest, up the mountain, along with several other pipes, to the small river.  I guess it is about a 750-metre walk.  Along the way, the hosepipe has 5 joins, each one needed to be separated so that, when we got to the problem, there would be no air block.  The end of the pipe sits low (in the already low river level, but the pipe had sprung a leak not far from the source.  We mended the leak, although how Diwaker knew which pipe was his, I do not know.  So many other pipes lay close by, snaking through the grass, the trees and over rocks as they made their way from the river to the houses.  No water board to phone here – you just have to go and find the problem and solve it.  Luckily, we solved our problem just before it got dark.  The second pipe, that feeds the cardamom crop also had a problem, but we couldn’t locate the issue with that one so would have to return another day – good job we had the downpour later so the cardamom crop wouldn’t suffer.  In fact, the next two days were incredibly wet – I really am glad I am not here for monsoon.  I completed the rest of my weeding of Ama’s garden, which I had half started a few days prior, in between rains.  I gave the pigs most of the weeds and they were glad of them.  Their food is cooked over the fire – rice and shredded banana tree trunk.  I don’t think they really like it.  

(Pig food - cooked every four days)

Well, they like the rice, but manage to somehow snuffle all the rice out and leave all the banana tree parts.  The weeds from the garden went down a treat.  I am still amazed none of the animals around the place chase or eat each other.  Mind you, the animals still need to watch their backs.  The other day as we were all sitting out, an eagle flew down and whipped one of the chicks away.  It happened so quickly, I just heard shouts of ‘Laggio’ and didn’t see, but it was all very stressful for a minute or two.  I am given to understand that the word ‘Laggio’ means ‘it is taken’ and Ama was shouting that the poor mother hen had lost one of her chicks to the thief in the sky.

So, my time at Step by Step school was coming to an end.  On my penultimate evening we made Momo, sat around on the kitchen floor as a family.  

(Teachers trip to the monastery after training)

(Rain stops play)

(One of the family - washing up)

(Diwaker sings as we clear dinner)

(The local Rai caste temple)

(Cementing the new extension at school)

(House where monks live for three years)

(Bamboo staircase to take materials to roof)

(Need water?  Just unhitch someones pipe and borrow it for a while)

(Breakfast with a jungle view)

(Cricket with bits of wood and an old plastic orange as a ball)

(Views) 

What would seem ‘unconventional’ at home is everyday life here and it is probably the part of my journey I am loving the most.  The opportunity to be free from the chains of expectation, standard and opinion.  Perhaps even to escape from judgement (or the perception of it – we are, all of us, our own worst critic).  It is best illustrated in the wearing of clothes and the frequency of washing.  The ‘perceived’ standards at home would never let me leave my hair unwashed for a week or go unwashed for days, a week at a time.  I wouldn’t wear the same pair of trousers, knowing that there were one or two marks on them (or that they are not ironed).  In Ambiok Busty, these things were irrelevant.  Totally irrelevant.  If judged, I was only ever judged on my skills as a teacher and, perhaps (on occasion), my sense of humour - oh and my dancing!  Of course, there is a certain anonymity that accompanies travelling to a place such as I have and that must play its part.   I might even say that, the ability to be whoever I want and, in truth, being pretty much the same as always, it is empowering that I have been able to make so many friends and be included in so many events and traditions as part of numerous different families.  When I do return to the UK, I am likely to have a shower a day, wash my hair at least every other day and wash clothes far more frequently too.  But I hope not, at least not straightaway.  My life in India demonstrates that it is possible to conserve water, to use less electricity and to consume far more than five fruits and vegetables a day.  Perhaps introducing these environmentally friendly ways of living, along with the recycling and waste disposal we have available, will help me reduce my carbon footprint and try better to do my bit to save the environment.  One thing I do know – the pitiful turnout in our Parliament to debate climate change in the light of student’s around the world demanding change, was disgusting.  Something needs to change.  The UK Government has shown its complete disregard for its people over Brexit, and MPs continue to demonstrate their own self interest by ignoring the issues that count (one might say imperative) to the next generation.

Am I perfect?  Not quite.  But I have a good mind to form my own political party.  One that would not be able hide behind excuses, use its silver tongue to slither out of any situation or continually promote empty promises.  It would be one that had teachers, police, doctors and nurses at its core.  People who have experienced the roles they are advising on and governing.  Our current choices of Government deal with us too dismissively.  There is little difference between them, and their bickering is just pathetic.  It is entirely frustrating that, whilst some hard-working people go hand to mouth, other hard-working people get rich off, yet other, hard-working people’s financial woes.  There must be a better balance and that is what my party would be about – addressing the imbalances across so much of what we have to endure.  Wishful thinking perhaps, but whatever the future this game of playing cat and mouse with other parties in a vulgar display of one upmanship and derogatory remarks, has to stop. 

Anyway, I digress.  My apologies for that outburst.  Back to saving the planet and I sincerely hope that I will do my best to take some of the lessons I have learned in India back home to the UK with me.

On my final day in Ambiok Busty the children and staff put on a fantastic afternoon of song and dance.  There was a wonderful presentation thanking me for my time and effort and then, of course, my love of dancing having become well known in yet another place, I was asked to dance – alone – in front of everyone.  Not one to disappoint I did my best Nepali dancing and, well, the applause said it all.  A few words from the Headteacher, a few in reply from me and it was time to say goodbye.  My first real goodbye since coming to the country.  Everyone else, despite saying cheerio, I knew I would see them again before I leave India.  I held back the tears, but it was hard.  The words were heartfelt and true.  My feelings for the place reciprocated by the people that live there.

The following day I had to say goodbye to my homestay family.  Having fitted right into the family, it was an incredibly bittersweet moment.  I was off on another adventure, 30km and at the top of a hill away, and another school.  But I was also leaving somewhere I had felt so comfortable.  My days were filled with food preparation, helping out around the house and generally living the local life.  ‘Life goes on’ as they say and, it does.  Jobs needed doing and as I waited for my jeep to arrive, so the work began around.

The jeep journey provided another flashback.  Squashed into the rear of the jeep with two children and three other adults, bags in between us and two men standing on the back, the windy road gave me a feeling rather similar to the one I used to get in the rear of our family Volvo when we were kids.  Dad had put in fold up/down seats and two of us always had to sit in the back facing out of the rear of the car.  I don’t remember ever loving it and seem to recall Nick and Dan getting ‘the boot’ most of the time.  I do, however, remember one summer driving back from the beach in convey with cousins, aunts and uncles, a cousin and I were in the boot of the Volvo and wrote messages on the soles of our feet to the cars behind us.  Funny, the memories we dredge up and the reasons for doing so.

Anyway, after a relatively comfortable journey, quite a few people disembarked along the way, I arrived in Lava.  It was much chillier, being that much higher.  I made my way to the ‘hotel’ I would be staying in.  Sadly, the teacher who would have been providing my homestay had left the school at Christmas and there was no other person to provide accommodation.  The proprietor of the school was so keen for me to stay and so it was organised for me to stay in a friend’s hotel.  After my life in Ambiok Busty I was slightly daunted by the prospect of no family, no cooking, no conversation and no company, but, on the positive, it would give me a chance to catch up on quite a few things I had not managed to get done – the blog, backing up photos, sending a few messages…etc.  One thing it was though, was cold!  Oh, my goodness it was cold.  I was back to sleeping in two hoodies, a hat and wooly socks.  For the day times, I bought myself a shawl that many of the local people (male and female) wear.  Ultimately, just another part of my journey.  But, the biggest positive? I had treats!  Five crème eggs, McVities Gold Bars and Mini Eggs.  Sent as part of a package from a good friend back in the UK.  The package did not actually take that long to find me and, as soon as it reached the Post Office back in Kashyem, they ensured the packaged travelled onward to find me.  I had to be very careful to ensure my stash lasted the week – at least.  It would have been very easy to inhale it all on the first day!  I am glad I didn’t because, as will become apparent, at times, eating one of those crème eggs was like living a dream.  As I messaged to the friend that sent the package, ‘Only God and I will ever know just how much a crème egg can mean to someone.’

The accommodation could not have been more different from a homestay.  The hotel was noisy.  The people on all sides of my room were in a group and only spoke at one volume – loud.  The walls were so thin and the doors so flimsy that the group may as well have been having their conversation on my bed.  Lava, I think I have said before is a bit of a tourist destination and, obviously, they do not expect to have a working teacher sleeping next door.  Outside, the dogs barked incessantly.  The owner of the hotel has a small shop and his dog is tied up at the front.  It barked at everything and within 36 hours of my arrival had attacked a shopper.  My single-glazed, ill fitting windows let in the noise and the cold.   One evening, the owner saw me and came over to check how I was.  He seemed oblivious to what may, or may not, constitute good dog behaviour.  As the two weeks unfolded, I have to admit I ended up thinking about that dog's untimely demise.  Right under my window there was not a night of uninterrupted sleep.   

The first two days at Rainbow School were some of the most challenging for me.  Working in Lower and Upper Kindergarten (LKG/UKG) I was acutely aware that the children’s knowledge and understanding did not seem to be in relation with how Class 1 or 2 were learning.  I had been concerned about a high focus on handwriting (which is absolutely beautiful throughout the school), but it soon became apparent that, when learning their words, they are being taught phonic sounds (through song and action), but, using alphabet letter names to spell where phonics does not make much of an appearance.  In a staff meeting on the second day a long discussion around phonics took place.  The information and guidance staff have had is pitiful.  The decision by ‘management’ of the charity, dictated phonics be taught and, from more than one source, I understand no more than half a day’s phonics training took place.  As I explained why this may be contributing to a lack of understanding by children (in neither LKG or UKG could a child give me more than one word that began with a certain letter – every child said apple for a, ball for b etc.  Even when shown pictures and asked to put the pictures under the correct letter only one child was able to make a single match), the staff began to understand more about how phonics works and why, if embraced fully it would be a big shift in thinking for students, teachers and parents.  It was a hard discussion to have.  I believe in phonics.  I have seen the success, but with the best will in the world, I could only see how the programme was possibly damaging children’s learning in the situation I found myself.  Did I mention that none of the present teachers at Rainbow school were at the original phonics training?  My understanding of the phonics training received and the reason for possible problems in LKG and UKG were brought into sharper focus when the Headteacher told me some of the things she was taught at the training.   Whether they were delivered in such a way or understood that way, they were totally incorrect.  Anyway, for those of you who know me well, I am nothing if not honest and, luckily, I have already reported back to London on the use of phonics in the schools here (as I think I referred to in an early blog).  However, those first days at Rainbow really gave me solid experience of just how damaging foreign charities throwing half baked, lacklustre ideas, often conceived by unexperienced people trying to do a ‘good deed’ can be.  The teachers at Rainbow school put everything into what they do.  It is criminal that what they are told to do is not correctly supported, delivered or maintained.  They are just left to get on with it.

Lava itself is very hilly and based on one main, steep, narrow street winding it's way up to the top of the ridge and a little way along it.  On Tuesday it is market day and school finishes a little early so that the teachers can go and buy their vegetables and other things that may not be available all the time in the town otherwise.  It's a good walk up and down the hill to school.  Opposite the school is a large monastery (part of the tourist attraction) and I walked around the grounds a couple of times, finding it a very peaceful and quiet place to be, given the relative noise of the town bustling just below it. I am told Lava never gets warm, but I find that hard to believe, there were a couple of days where the sun made an appearance and the temperature must have broken into the teens.  But, generally, it was pretty chilly and the evening and nighttime temperatures were always in low single digits - not easy to get warm in, with no form of heating, single glazing and not hot water bottle.

(Main Street down)

(Main Street up)

(Hotel from the restaurant with 'rabid' dog front and centre!!  My washing over the balcony and my room to the left.)

(Dinner for one?  The smallest frying pan known to man?)

(The smallest pressure cooker?)

(Monstery) 

(Rainbow School in blue)

(Cold - pretty much my attire for two weeks)

My time in Lava, sadly, was pretty difficult.  Oh, the school were wonderful, the teacher’s kind, caring and eager to learn and discuss options for interactive lessons and how to come up with positive behaviour management systems.  The residents were (mostly) friendly and the children always excited to see me – especially if they caught me out of school.  But, on a personal level, it was possibly one of the darkest times I have experienced.  Often on Facebook nowadays we are reminded about the need for mental health awareness and how we must support those who may need it.  I have often wondered how we can tell if someone needs help.  I’ll be honest, whilst in Lava, I struggled to find meaning in what I was going through for those two weeks.  I began to catch sight of what might constitute (negative) mental health and, how, being without people to talk with, even about the simplest of things, can send you into a whirlpool of your own thoughts, worries and problems.  It becomes more than what some might call ‘wallowing’ and takes you to a place where the light is dimmer and there are more closed doors than open ones.  The shadows are darker and more defined, and hope seems to have taken leave.  The posts on Facebook tell us to offer support, an ear to listen, a shoulder for someone…  But what if that someone has no voice to ask for the help?  Or their voice is too far away to be heard?  I know I think too much.  I know I constantly feel that what I do is not good enough.  I know that the guilt felt at the thought of those who are worse off (there is always someone we are reminded) is all consuming.  But, those days in Lava, gave me cause for concern.    Nothing I said or did would allow me to see any good in what I was doing.  Every three steps forward seemed to bring four back.  There was no-one I could talk to and, despite the best efforts of local friends, talking about elements of the struggle always led to some things being misunderstood and the added anxiety and frustration of translation did not help.  

After 15 years of not smoking, I smoked my first cigarette and a few after that.  Every day I went out as Mr Hyde and spent the evenings, alone, as Mr Jekyll.    There were numerous reasons why I reached this stage.  I was cold, ridiculously cold.  I was staying in a ‘grubby’ room.  The effort of being understood and trying to simplify language all the time was exhausting.  The barking dog and lack of sleep!  I had a reoccurring infection that wouldn’t shift.  I caught a cold.  I was lonely.  I had had enough of being less than clean.  I will never underestimate the value of a shower connected to hot water, ever!  My pen drive (10 years of work) got a virus.  The list goes on, but let's not dwell.  I have to say that, if 25% of what the staff and I have worked on together here sticks, then I will be pleased.  I never imagined how much could be lost in translation.  I never knew how much effort would be required to deliver one simple message and even then, question if it had been understood at all.  And, this, knowing that staff were giving their all to what we were doing.  Things at home were not great either.  My flat had failed to deliver an income for two months causing damage to my budget for here.  I worried about how I could complete my time here.  And then I would hear myself say – “How dare you feel sorry for yourself?  Look out of the window and show me one person who has the luxuries you have.”  Which of course is a very good point (there is always someone worse of than you).  So, then came the guilt.  

Don’t get me wrong, I am proud of what I am doing here.  It is nothing like I ever thought it would be and, on every level, I am challenged.  The positives far outweigh the negatives.  But there are negatives, as with everything, and sadly they all seemed to converge in Lava. Some of you will undoubtedly think the problems I struggled with were superficial and … so be it.  But for me, there has been nothing superficial about my incredible life here, positive or negative.  For a couple of weeks, I was pushed harder than I could imagine on what I am able to deal with at one sitting and it was a very rocky road.  But, as I try to remember, it is only by experiencing the very negative side of life that we can truly get to understand the sheer beauty, wonder and delight of other aspects of life.

 

So, why do I write this?  In truth, I am still not sure.  I thought about deleting it when I was editing, but, ultimately, I guess it is a true reflection of my experience here.  Shira Maam (Principal Maam of Rainbow School) says “Lava will always be memorable”.  And, she is right!  But, maybe not for all the above.  The afternoon of the day I phoned in sick (oh yes, that was another incident, but that was just too horrendous for words), every member of staff visited my hotel room.  Some have families, some had to get transport to their own homes, but they all crowded into my little (very messy, and probably, very sickly) room to find out how I was and to wish me well.  That moment, in its self, is one worth remembering over and above any of the negative.  The little boy in Class 2, with the constantly running nose and ants in his pants is another memory worth remembering.  The absolute commitment and friendliness the English-speaking member of hotel staff, who was tasked with looking after me, showed at every opportunity (especially when I was sick) is another.  But, I guess I chose to keep the ‘dark’ stuff as part of this blog, because, no matter what Facebook or anyone else says about mental health, if we as individuals don’t recognise the signs, the silent calls for help or the tiny changes in the people we know, then those struggling with any aspect of negative mental health, no matter how superficial you may consider it, will continue to go unnoticed.  Not everyone, with concerns affecting their mental health, will work on the knowledge that there is a listening ear.  They will always consider their own worries or problems less than someone else’s and continue to bury them deep.  I know how fortunate I am, how incredible my current journey is and what exciting things I am learning.  For me, these positives (inevitably, in time) push the negativity aside and encourage me to keep going.  But, for some, there will not be such positives in life and, for those people, we should remain vigilant and keep watch for the small changes that might alert us.

Finally, for my parents, I am eternally grateful.  Your unfailing and unwavering support of my current journey is more appreciated than you will know.  It is from your encouragement that I often re-found my own ability, commitment and enthusiasm during those few days.  And, of course, the misspelled WhatsApp messages often brought a smile to my face and a tear to my eye.

"Peace comes from within. Do not seek it without.” - Buddha

“It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. Then the victory is yours. It cannot be taken from you. " - Buddha

But, despite the difficult personal journey, my time at school ended really positively, with so much affection and respect, mixed with quite a high level of exhaustion, I found the tears difficult to hold back.  Rainbow School will always be remembered as the 'colourful' school for many reasons.  Aptly named for sure!

(Receiving Kadar to wish me a safe journey)

(Giving out Star of the Week certificates)

(One of the youngest in nursery hung on to my leg or the string of my coat every morning in assembly)

Footnote: A good friend was able to rescue most of my pen drive with software - thank goodness for knowing someone who worked at Hewlett Packard!  I was diagnosed with a sinus infection, as well as a couple of other things, and given antibiotics when I reached Kalimpong and also warmed up as it was relatively sunny further down the hills in Kalimpong.  Sadly, I continue to suffer with stomach problems which are mostly manageable - a period of 36 hours of fasting every three days is the current regime.