15 Cups of Tea

I drift in and out of sleep from 5:00 to 7:30 as the house wakes up around me, the family that we are staying with washes their clothes outside, pots are banged, dogs bark, the hot Indian sun streams in through my window. Finally I emerge from this restless sleep as our cook knocks on our door to let us know that morning tea is ready. If this doesn't wake us, he rings our door bell, which plays a bollywood song--we are trying to figure out how to install one in America. I roll out of bed, stretch a bit, then chat and drink tea with the other girls in the kitchen. Around 8:30 breakfast is served: either stuffed potato chapatti with ketchup, oatmeal, or toast and eggs, complemented by another cup of tea. Once breakfast is finished, we usaully hand around the table to talk, and play with the family's puppy, Tomy, a black lab/mutt with a red bindi painted on his forehead. Around 9:20 I leave with Arielle to my project location. Her daycare is on the way to the school I work at, we pass honking drivers, fruit stands and staring locals. At 9:50, I have my first lessson, english gramar, with the fourth grade. The school is ismple, but set in a beautiful location that overlooks the forest below and is watched by the Himalayas above.

Teaching is hard. Teaching children can be trying. Teaching kids that speak another language and live in another world is intimidating. Of the obstacles to overcome is getting them to pay attention, wondering if they can understand me at all, trying to make the lesson entertaining, and watching the real teacher come in and gain their immeadiate respect and silence, while it's all I can do to make a few kids pay attention to me half the time. I have an inkling some children have picked up that the volunteers, unlike the teachers, will not hit them upside the head not matter how they misbehave. It seems that the minute I have their attention, usually thanks to another teacher coming in and getting it for me, the period is over.

After this, I have a half hour break during which I take notes of the day, prepare for the next lesson, and interview other volunteers and teachers. The bell rings--rather the gong is struck--and I go to the 5th grade to work on English reading. This period goes a bit smoother; the kids are a bit older, better at following directions, listen easily and enjoy reading out loud. We usually read for 20 minutes then either play hangman, draw on the board, or learn a song. After this class, I have another half hour break. I feel silly to have these breaks, as if I am really not doing anything here, and I suspect the time off is more for the benefit of the school than mine. I am, after all, and outsider to the school system. Indeed, even assuming I can handle the responsibility of these young people's education is ludricrous. Other volunteers seem to think they have much to offer, and maybe they do, but at this point I feel that I am merely here as a plaything for the kids: at worst a distraction and at best a helpful resource for English pronunciation. My research so far has been useful, and I am beginning to gain a good perspective of how to utilize the volunteers time more effectively. More on that some day.

After my break, I go back to the 4th grade and usually find them even more riled up than in the morning, though I understand how attention drifts in the hour before lunch, I can't imagine I was ever this out of control. (Kidding past teachers and parents, I realize I was probably worse) For this reason, I try to make the lesson as entertaining or brief as possible, for my own sanity as well as the kids.

At 12:20, I am done with my duties at the location, and begin my walk home. I pick Arielle up from her daycare location and we stop by the beauty salon, owned by the parent of one of Arielle's kids. We spend about 15 minutes there helping the mom with her English, being told how we should groom ourselves, and getting our hair done. It is an interesting and amusing stop on our way home to lunch.

Midday meal usually consists of chappati, rice, beans, corn, curry, onions and cucumber in some sort of delicious (swaadist) combination, accompanied, of course, by tea. After lunch most of us head to the heat of our rooms for a sweaty nap or reading break. Around 2 or 3 we re-emerge for a fourth cup of tea and decide whether we want to head to Palampur for the afternoon, or shop around the local markets for mangoes and momos. We spend the rest of the afternoon either doing laundry, playing cards, visiting families or reading and chatting, and drinking more tea.

Dinner comes around 8, another mixture of rice, chapatti, green beans, curry, and what else but tea. This is generally followed by sliced mangoes, fruit juice, or the Haribo gummies Mischa brought from Germany. Yummmmmy. We spend some time while enjoying our treats planning the next days activities, making games and crafts and reading some more. Finally, as the night cools down, sleep comes.