A note on my three blogs


A note on my blogs

(1) vio; in love with india - this one is the main blog about my Indian adventures, which started in 2005. I don't write much on this blog these days because I prefer to write privately in the confidential blog. But check out the categories and the index to figure out your way. I have kept some older posts not about India but which I still find interesting or relevant in Old words. Also check out my new, fun category Only in India in which I post photos of funny, unique, Indian situations...

(2) vio; sounds of india - this is my blog of sounds, because India wouldn't be as incredible if it was not so vibrant and just so full of incredible sounds!

(3) vio; confidential - this an extension of my main blog in which I post entries I do not want to reveal to the entire webspace for privacy or sensitivity reasons. You must receive an invitation from me and then accept the invitation to be able to read it. You may email me if you are interested in receiving an invitation.

Enjoy!

Wednesday, 20 February 2008

Visiting the second school

[typed from paper journal]

Yesterday, Vijay took me to another school, a proper school very near the house. I don't like to go to the first school anymore; it seems just a nonsensical, disorganised thing. I cannot teach those kids, there is nothing and I do not like how they just tell me "teach!"; when I don't even speak (enough) Hindi. And I don't really feel comfortable around them either.

So I went to another school yesterday. When we arrived, straight away I met the principal. A young-looking man who looked very nice. It is no nonsense here. I was offered to visit each class; there were three levels; 3, 4 and 5 I think, or 3rd, 4th and 5th classes. The children stood up all at once as soon as I got in, screaming 'Namaste!' to me and in laughter. I laughed, too, even though I'd been told that if I want to teach I must be firm with the kids. I was invited to sit down in front of them; Vijay and the principal were standing behind me talking. I was embarrassed at first. Part of me had not wanted to go because I am scared, and hanging around is an easy option, I guess. Of course the other part of me still has had enough and was adamant that I should visit the school today.

So I sat in front of the children, with all the presence that I could gather. Saying hello, pausing; then I asked to see one of their English books. I had a look, felt somewhat reassured that with a book just in English, and that also means some structure, I could do something. Soon I visited the next class, smaller children, and was asked to get them to repeat the alphabet. I laughed, because I have the French pronunciation in my memory so I blocked half-way through. In the end the teacher agreed that he would get books for me. I should get them and pay for them in a couple of days. We will see what I can do though, because term finishes soon, within a month (to start again on 1st July).

The principal was pleased, though, as with my proper English I can only help - I know grammar. Later Vijay told me that the principal had also asked him if I should get a salary, and he had answered no.

In the afternoon, to my great surprise, as I was sitting reading in front of the house (as usual), about five children ran to me. They said I was going to teach English in their school and so they had come to see me! I had to ask if I had seen them in class because with so many kids I couldn't remember their faces. And so they hung around with me and we spoke a bit in Hindi and English, introducing ourselves.

This afternoon, one of them, Tiger, maybe the cutest, came again to see me. I am still a little apprehensive but somehow life seems to be smiling to me. And it is very touching; the fear stays there in the background, hardly visible as I get used to how to deal with it. And as I write this, in front of the house, Tiger is running back to me yet again. Five to ten children followed him. I went to sit at the foot of the temple for some shade. One by one hey gathered round me, trying to communicate with simple Hindi and broken English. They played with my pen and book; we somehow shared a fun time together, pointing and naming things etc.. Soon the girl I always see also came. Many asked if I was going to teach, and so she, Gumti, brought her school bag and showed me her Hindi and English books, asking me to read in English – and also in Hindi! One kid arrived later; he was a little older – ten, maybe. He spoke some English and invited me to his house for some chai. I was going to go but I do need some rest for my 'over-walked', painful foot, and Mummy made me understand that it may not be a good idea. It seems that she meant he was a bad boy. That, though, I am not sure that I understood right.

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