The sh1t hits...

A large sound of falling building bits and pieces and the discipline of assembly collapsed into various shades of hilarity, horror and flight.

Sunod's plan (I think that is the first time we've ever used the word out here!) for Saturday morning play and dancing practice was utterly usurped as the down pipe from the upstairs sentry loo tumbled from the wall. With it followed the obvious... And because the upstairs loo sits overlooking the whole school, of course the whole school is now quite literally covered in shit!

The response: patch it up, and certainly don't make any attempt to clean. It stinks, so Sarah and I were very grateful that the play practice for the school was not at school at all!

The shit hit the fan in play practice as well, but that's not nearly as entertaining a tale...

Pictures:

The missing pipe and the lady of the house, Suchita, looking on in despair; and the roof of the school...

Play practice with Miss Sarah directing. They were, after a bollocking, brilliant!

Quote of the day

'Sarfraj, please put the machete down!'.

The funny thing is that this only sounded odd when we reflected on the moment over a cup of tea this afternoon! We have become so used to India's lackadaisical ways that the said words were spat more out of annoyance rather than concern; we're not sure what was in the water today but the kids have been driving us mad! A new moon perhaps...

I say lackadaisical but actually it's more lassez-faire; kids aren't wrapped in cotton wool, they just fend for themselves. If they get hurt then it's really just a case of Darwin working his magic: better luck next time.

As you know, we're in the throes of prop making for the Foundation Day play, and today the bamboo structures began to take shape. Prior to the session Giles and I envisaged students working under careful supervision with a mini hacksaw or two; but no, the machetes were quite literally in full swing by our cast of 9-13 year olds! But this is how they roll out here and it's so refreshing; an illegal weapon at home is simply a tool for the trade in India, they've been wielding them since the age dot!

Perhaps we really should give children more credit; they aren't stupid, they're just young. Of course I wish for no one to lose a finger, but the old mantra of learning from mistakes, or better still from good parental guidance, has to be the right way, doesn't it?

Here's another one. You should see the ancient see-saw in the playground. The stress fractures are everywhere and I'm sure that the sideways motion was not factored into the original design. Still, every morning we witness gatherings of children happily loading it with as much weight as possible. Whilst inadvertently learning about pivots and levers the kiddies mount the see-saw as if it were a moped (out here 4 people per steed is pretty common). With our fingers virtually poised on the emergency call button (still not sure if such a thing exists in India) we watch the morning routine, and yesterday we took the biggest gasp to date...

'How high can I bounce you?' That's what they were thinking as 2 children went head to head in the most violent bounce-off yet! The result: a perfect over the handlebars-style flip from the smaller boy. Now lying on his back on the narrow pole that is the see-saw, he simply rolled off, glanced back with a 'so that's what happens' kinda look and wandered off. No harm done but a valuable lesson learned.

I might do a UK-style risk assessment on the playground at KCS before we leave; should make for a hilarious read. Unfinished roofs upon which the kids play, missing floorboards, live wires hanging from the ceilings... I dread to think what a H&S inspector would say about chalk dust and the distinct lack of warning signage ;-).

... Oh and to think that we've seen no sign of any accident whatsoever in our 2 months here... Have we got it right at home?

Pics:

An overloaded see-saw...

Making the backdrops for the play...

8 Nov - The Next Wonderland

We arrived at school 2 days ago to utter confusion. Not a head or deputy in sight, while the other teachers, bemused as to where they were, struggled to decide whether to act on the last set of vague directions or to sit and contemplate them (they obviously chose the latter!). Funnily enough, the kids were uncontrollable, directionless, and so we sat through another missed opportunity, another day of education wasted, despite our attempts to restore order.

After all our hard work this really was a kick in the tender bits. But we weren't going to give up. With only 9 days left to change KCS for a self-sustaining better, Sarah took the bulls (read: two cowering shadows of men) by the horns. Sadly I missed her rant at Gautam and Sunod - the 'management' -, but reports of Sunod's pout (sic) and humility, and of Gautam's trademark scuttle to safety suggest that the message she delivered hit the mark. Ow.

But as with everything India, for every seemingly irrecoverable plummet from the precipice, there is some miraculous bungee which sustains your love for it. Enter Sunod, cap in hand, to plead for advice as to how to run his school. You can't ask for more than that. And the very next day, yesterday, a different school. A long long way from what we'd like, but immeasurably improved from the day before, and even, wait for it, some talk of communication and planning...

So, that's school. We are trying hard. Which brings me back to India. Try they most certainly do: mostly directing effort every which way but usefully, and always far too late to be effective, but it is effort on a huge scale. You could power countries on the stuff.

My example, though, this time has no punctuality issues. I'll set the scene.

This week is the 'Pine Tree Festival', the inaugural Pedong tourism event designed to bring in foreign and non-local punters and thus generate some revenue for a place which has little more than advanced subsistence to survive on. As Sarah showed in a previous blog, once again our training ground, the town rec, has been transformed: a huge stage, PA system to waken the dead, extraordinarily unsafe funfair, stalls; everything in fact you'd expect to find at Bestival only crapper and dirtier. For five nights the entire town has been perched on the surrounding walls, teetered on top of parked jeeps, and leant from adjacent houses' balconies to enjoy the entertainment laid on: numerous musical and dramatic extravaganzas from the locality, Darjeeling and Kathmandu based performers. It's been a lovely carnival atmosphere despite Sarah and I not understanding a word of the songs or the Indian comedies which have had the crowds baying for more. That the 'Columbus' Viking boat swing didn't go sliding from its pivot down the hill along with the 'Roti-ping' (Ferris wheel) is a relief.

But here's the thing; two actually. We're told that every hotel in Pedong is booked for the next 2 months as a result. Brilliant, but to our knowledge and from the limited exploration we have conducted, there is only one hotel, and it has perhaps 4 rooms. And, now that the national 'Dussehra' holiday is over, in fact the only 'tourists' we have seen in Pedong are us. So so much effort...

But my favourite from this whole escapade, which simply captures the essence of India in one piece of glossy A4, is the new 'Pedong, the next wonderland' tourism brochure. The content, sentiment, and pictures are good. Better than many a dusty museum ad in an English Riviera B&B in fact. Until you stop reading it and look at it. On the front, a beautifully formatted trifold. On the back, two columns. One only has to wonder at the layers of bureaucratic proofing and scrutiny this pamphlet endured before going to print, and yet still...

Pictures:

A4 genius... Spot which way I folded it first!

The kids' fashion show at the 'Pine Tree Festival' in full swing. Engineers and parents alike don't look too closely at 'Columbus', or the 'Roti Ping' (oh the irony of the onomatopoeia!)... Or their proximity to each other... I suspect that they are both driven by the same engine which might explain why when 'Columbus' is silent 'Roti Ping' accelerates to hair-raising rotational speeds!

And some of class 3 after performing at the festival... Lovely

Utter appreciation

'Sooooooooo nice, miss'. Wow. I knew the homemade clocks would work well but I was blown away by Class 2's enthusiasm today. Once again you'd have thought it was their birthdays given their reaction to having a clock of their own to play with.

In splitting the little ones into teams, telling the time became a competition. The rules were simple: be the first team to reveal the correct orientation of big and little hands and the point was yours! As I bellowed out 'quarter past one... Half past 4... Quarter to eleven' the teams hastily rotated their hands demonstrating a full understanding. Many teachers watched the game unfold, each marvelling at what they saw, and better still realising that they could do the same. Oh how I hope they've taken something from this very simple lesson!

Little wins continued throughout the day. Class 8's understanding of electron shells was cemented in a simple 'hotel electron' revision worksheet; class 6 are confident with measurements and unit conversions, but the best part of the whole day was an afternoon of prop making for the play.

There's no budget, but that's not going to stop us. Bring on cardboard boxes, some string, coloured paper and a few extras donated from home. Add a little imagination and you have a horse, a saddle and some crowns. What we really need are trees. No bother, Prashant simply cut a stash of bamboo from his garden and delivered it to the school gate. This is going to be the best stage set ever.

Class 3 hungrily watched the creative fun unfold. Having already practiced their Nepali dance for foundation day they still had 2 hours of school to endure (don't get me started on the whereabouts of their teachers). I decided to seize the opportunity and put their imaginations to the test; it would have been cruel to ignore their curiosity:

'Neha, can you make me a house?'

'Yes Miss'

Armed with a pair of scissors, a grubby box, a pen and a small pack of paint the girls set about their challenge. Amazing. With no guidance at all they produced a masterpiece and their smiles told the story. Oh to engage these keen young minds in this manner every day.

See pics below for evidence of today's creative geniuses.

The little things that make such a difference...

It's the weekend, but with a school play looming we have decided to stay put in Pedong to work with our talented young cast.

The master-plan, however, backfired this morning along with Giles' bottom as the belated but inevitable dose of Pedong belly struck. With G firmly glued to the loo I set about honing my skills in choreography and set building!

Of course things are never that simple. I won't bore you with the details but a near comical sketch arose involving me, the school management and a particularly lazy teacher to whom I'd delegated the responsibility of sourcing stage-building materials over a month ago. As you can probably
imagine there was a lot of head wiggling and nothing was resolved. Still, as per my last blog, I have no doubt that the resourceful children will save the day!

So, feeling a little down-hearted by the lack of progress in the set department, and minus my usually willing partner in crime, I set about writing a pile of exam questions to pass the afternoon.

It was after about an hour that 3 shy little faces appeared around the door holding flowers and asking after Sir Giles. 'Miss, we brought you these'. So touched I dug out a colouring sheet that I'd made just last week and invited them to join me at the table. We talked and worked together, me devising questions and they being sure not to cross the black lines as they carefully coloured the sheet of shape outlines. After 20 minutes I found a balloon and blew it up. You'd have thought it was Christmas! They graciously accepted and went about conversing in Nepali as to how they were going to look after it!

When the worksheets were finished the girls started writing on the top and eventually revealed a get well message for Giles. Without any hint they decided that it was time to leave so thanked me for my time, returned my pencils and set off for home.

Just 20 minutes later there was timid knock on the door; they'd returned, only this time with a small carrier bag of home-grown oranges and guavas... 'For you and Giles-Sir... Get well soon'.

The most humbling part of all was knowing that this fruit came from a family who are too poor to treat their children to the start of Pedong's tourist festival tonight. Everyone's going but at just 5 rupees a head it is too much of a stretch for their pockets. Whilst I can hear the stage blasting from the comfort of our room, I know the girls aren't there, but I'm willing to bet 3 guavas that they're enjoying a bright purple balloon and wearing genuine smiles to prove it!

Picture: the epitome of our day... It's as if the children knew how grateful I'd be for such pungent and zesty flowers!

2 Nov - One step forward...

"Who can tell me anything about air?"

A simple revision question for my class 3s this morning. Hands shot up, and as usual, it was fielding the salvo of numerous good answers which kept me on my toes. "We can't see air, Sir." Very good. And correct. Hold that thought.

Each child was then given an incomplete pie chart on which to label the gases which make up air. "Label the sections with the correct gases and then colour it in."

"But Sir, gases have no colour!"

Outwitted by an 8-year old, again.

Class four in the next lesson weren't such a challenge.

"Nikesh, how tall are you?"

A big smile from little Nikesh: "Nice, Sir."

Hmmm. Some work to do there, although in terms of his development as a 'thought-phobic' Indian citizen he is right on track...

Higher up the school today and Sarah and I found ourselves apologising to one particular student. Although we may have made considerable progress towards Everest during our trek, we returned, along with the students and staff who had celebrated their equivalent of Christmas, to find that much of the progress we had made prior had regressed. Unbelievably frustrating, although we should have predicted it. But let me paint you a picture:

Abishek is really the character of the school's pupils; bright, well liked, and cheeky as you'd expect from a chap whose character is so much bigger than his stature. Inclusive Indian education most certainly is not. So as the best, Abishek finds himself volunteered for most extra-curricular activities: at the moment this includes football team member, lead role for our English play, Nepali dancer for the school's foundation day performance, and participating in the inter-school fashion show during the town's inaugural 'tourism festival'. Which would be fine... Except that he's forced to spend hours on the latter, 'practising' (practising in India is a good pseudonym for justifying idleness) during scheduled school lessons, and play rehearsal times. Pulled this way and that, and wanting to excel in his forthcoming academic exams, the poor chap has found himself in the midst of our disagreements with the headmaster regarding our thoughts on his dismissal of lessons in favour of events that make him look good. It's an extraordinary situation, and one that poor old Abishek is merely the puppet for.

It's worth noting at this point that we were given strict instructions that the school play should have no reference to romance in it. And yet, taking 12-14 year old kids out of lessons to strut seductively along a catwalk is encouraged...

So, we've definitely regressed since before the break. But we have done so in a way that shouldn't really have come as any surprise. It's classically Indian. When we approach the headmaster to ask why half our cast are missing for their scheduled play practice, he assures us with an infuriating "sure, sure" (which means that he isn't listening to a word we are saying) that he'll solve the problem. How? Easy. If the children must be at 'fashion show' competition practice during slotted rehearsal time, then simply move rehearsal time to during lessons in the morning...

This is but one example of how things happen here. Spontaneous is one thing, but unconsidered spontaneous is the staple and very wearing too. It shouldn't raise blood-pressure after over 6 weeks, but I'll share another classic example with you:

We've identified that nursery would benefit from a lot of work. One aspect would be to install a blackboard. So we were pleased to see today that in fact that is just what has happened. Until of course, we realised that class 1 is now without one. The term consequence is almost as rare in Indian vocabulary as the concept of planning. They are both on the endangered-near-extinct list and I suspect that Sarah and I are not sufficient to preserve them.

As truly oxymoronic and frustrating as all this is, one aspect out here never fails to make us smile: the children. Only today were we treated to an impromptu performance of the Nepali song they have been practising for Foundation day. Their keenness to show us what they could do, to make us happy is just, well, almost selfless and that is quite overwhelming. And they are so so patient. Nursery kids sit quietly whilst their teachers all but ignore them, older children wait calmly for their scant moments of activity at the farcical fashion show practice, and they all tolerate teacher absences (any number of excuses are justifiable) with behaviour that is scarcely believable, so good are they. So perhaps that is what they really learn at school: patience and the discipline to have absolutely no expectations of those adults responsible for them during the day. The adults often display so much patience that you expect that they would wait for themselves before making any sort of decision. Perhaps this adds weight to my suggestion. But of course, all this patience is always punctuated by occasional outbursts of such frenetic and chaotic activity that at least it reassures you that you are of course still in India.

One final observation, and perhaps my first of a toiletry nature so far (hopefully the only one!). All, and I mean all, the shops sell loo paper. How extraordinary in a country where no one actually uses it...

Pictures:

Classes 2,3 and 4 give it their all singing to us.

The cast of 'The Wager' making props...

The changing face of Pedong

Pedong's sports ground is once again taking centre stage this week as the inaugural Pine Tree tourist festival begins. A 7-day bonanza awaits, promising dance acts from Kathmandu, singing from the 'India Idol' runners up and fashion shows. To top it off Anmol, Kids' Castle's very own star teacher, and his band have promised a Nickleback hit or two when they take to the stage on Wednesday night. We've yet to see a single tourist in Pedong so let's hope the line-up reels a few in...

Bamboo coral-style fencing is being erected in earnest, stage sets are being designed and rehearsals are of course disrupting the precious school timetable! We are slowly growing to accept the prioritisation out here where classes are shunned in favour of various showcasing events. However, the parading of young children in high heels and their delivery of miss universe-style speeches promising world peace is proving harder to swallow!

We are of course sitting outside our favourite snacks' bar watching the circus unfold after another frustrating day at school. In just over 1 week from now we have to deliver an English-spoken play at foundation day. Rehearsals are essential but of course the poor children are being pulled in every other direction and the simplest of lines have yet to be learned. Props, stage sets and costumes are on the daily promise list but repeatedly fail to materialise. As for exam revision... A mere detail in the grand scheme of things, pacified only by the fact that all students will be given the answers the day before to learn by rote so that the 100% success rate is met by all... Argh!

Our faces say it all, and we are fighting a natural reaction to the regular clashes with the head who simply says 'sure, sure, sure' when we raise our concerns. I'm not sure how it's going to work out but, if I know India, it'll miraculously come together at the 11th hour, further proving this nation to be the most dismal planners and most infuriating chancers I have ever worked with...

Let's hope it'll be alright on the night...