Yes, I rode on the back of my Dai's motorbike and I had some reservations because the monsoon began shortly after we arrived in Kathmandu for our first WorldTeach meeting. It was so intense, it sounded like hail was bouncing off the rooftops. It was so thick and heavy that it looked like one of our blizzard-like snows this past winter. Us crazy tourists pulled out our cameras and couldn't believe the intensity of rain. The rain flowed so quickly, it flowed right into our restaurant, pushing all the way back to the bar in the back of the restaurant! Employees were working so hard to squeegee the water out as quickly as it was pushing back in. What a sight to see!
Ganga said if the rain remained that intense, he would go back to my home with me on a micro-bus instead of me riding a motorbike back home. Shortly after I had three or four mo-mos, a cucumber slice, and one and a half fish fingers, I felt very ill. In fact, my stomach exhibited a type of hatred for what I had fed it, but I've had similar responses, like this one, every time I eat in Thamel or Kathmandu, so either the way the food is prepared is drastically different or the food is not as clean while preparing it; I'm not sure.
When our meeting and casual conversations about everyone's experiences in their first week came to a close, Ganga got everyone on their respective buses to return home and since the rain came to a drizzle, I ventured further into Kathmandu and into Thamel, passing the Royal Palace, which is now a museum, and crossing a few roads to get there, which were undertakings in themselves as traffic seems to never stop.
Ganga drew me a rough sketch of a map to help me find my way and I also asked a man walking behind me if he could show me the way to the Kathmandu Guesthouse, which he did delightedly. He was very kind and verified with other shop owners of its location. When I found Dai tucked into his little shop, I sat down and we chatted for a bit before he closed up and we were on our way.
We had to walk through some traffic to get to his motorbike parking lot, putting on our rain gear and off we went. I felt a little like Gulliver being able to see directly over his helmet. Riding this motorbike is a difficult sensation to describe. I felt very vulnerable, more so than when I had ridden on the back of a four wheeler, or my brother's sport bike. The roads have very little lighting, if any, and the little lights that are on these bikes might shed light on a few inches in front of you.
There was a lot of weaving in and out of trucks, buses, other bikes, crossing over lines from opposing traffic and then back on our side of the road. It was a little crazy and cramped when two motorbikes' rear view mirrors brushed up against my arms, just to give you an idea of how close traffic sits until they can proceed on their journeys! Once we left Kathmandu, it was dry as anything, so if you don't keep your mouth closed and your eyes squinted, you will chew on the ever present dust that engulfs your face and your eyes will burn from all the debris. The air felt good on my face once we arrived in the outskirts of Kathmandu, but that is when we were driving along on pitch black streets. Random stray dogs will casually cross the road, people were crossing the road and you could barely see them until you approached much closer. As we were heading up a never-ending hill, Dai stopped the bike and looked at the back tire and we had a flat. So? We walked the rest of the way home, uphill, in pitch black until we found our way back home. It felt good to move around, but my stomach cramping became worse and worse, getting chills, feeling feverish, so I was glad to be home, arriving safely from a very long and busy day.
Upon arriving, Didi was ready to feed us dhal bhat, but I told her I wasn't feeling well and so Dai said tea with ginger would help. After drinking tea and trying to evacuate the cramping poison from my body, taking some meds, I went to bed.
I woke up feeling like a Mack track hit me and after receiving my morning tea around 7, I told Didi that I still did not want to eat anything, so she left me sleep and I slept until around 9:30. We'll see how today goes- I still feel uneasy and a bit shaky, but a restful day should do the trick. I have to do my lesson plans for school tomorrow (it's hard to remember they have school on Sundays) hand wash my laundry on the rooftop, and maybe explore a little today if I feel up to it and the weather allows me to do so. There's always an adventure to behold, always stimulated by my surroundings and interactions, different sounds, smells, etc. and it's so important to embrace them all the best I can!
NamoBuddha Pilgrimage
Have you ever heard of the story about the King Bayan Deer? It tells a story of sacrifice, compassion, generosity, and even suffering as the King discovered empathy through the actions of others. There are so many symbolic icons and representations in the Buddhist and Hindu faiths, it is extraordinary and inevitable to examine our own thoughts and actions.
Buddhist Prayer Flags
Traditionally, Buddhist prayer flags can be found in the Himalayas Mountains, along rooftops, even embedded in the flora of a country. They are hung to bless the countryside, those that are living nearby, and serve many other purposes. They traditionally come in five colors, which represent the Five Elements: sky (blue), air/wind (white), fire (red), water (green), Earth (yellow). Tibetan Buddhists believe that once all of the elements have reached a balance, good health and harmony will follow. Although many believe that the flags carry prayers, that is a common misunderstanding. In fact, there are mantras written across the prayer flags and in addition to saying the mantras, prayers are offered up for those that hang the flags for lifelong blessings. The best time to hang the flags is in the morning, preferably when the sun is shining and the wind is blowing; therefore the wind can carry compassion and good will to all within its reach. After traveling through Buddhist communities, I noticed that some prayer flags looked brand new while others were old, tattered, and faded. Just as Buddhists have accepted the journey of life through aging, so the flags are treated the same. Alongside of old, faded flags will hang new ones. The old ones are not taken down, burned, or thrown away because of the sanctity of the mantras and symbols. Each colored flag has an image or a name of the four powerful animals, better known as "Four Dignities". Perhaps you can see them on various Buddhist flags, but they are the dragon, garuda, tiger, and snowlion. How colorful and beautiful!
One-horned Nepali Rhino Mother and Calf
Truly an opportunity! Rare, but this is why you ride an elephant through the jungle because the elephant can navigate through dense jungle pathways and conceal the human scent in order to capture this wonderful occasion of observing one of Nepal’s species that are on the rebound in re-populating numbers, previously close to extinction!
Friday, June 27, 2014
A Day in the Life at School
So I start off my morning waking up begrudgingly as I never seem to get enough sleep, however the Nepalese appear to need far less sleep than Americans. I wear ear plugs to keep out the sounds of the mosquitoes buzzing around my mosquito net and the ruthless barking and whining of a rather large German Shepherd, who looks at me as his next meal. His name is Laika.
After waking up, I collect my towel, wash rag, change of clothes for the day and sleepily walk to the bathroom, which is upstairs and I take the coldest shower that, in hindsight, actually gives me no choice but to wake up, which is fine with me. I've adapted quite well. There is no separate shower chamber, so you must squeegee the excess water to the drain against the wall. Then I head back downstairs and start to get ready, already sweating by this time. I make no attempt to dry my hair; kind of pointless in this humidity. Shortly before I leave for school, I am called to eat my dhal bhat, around 8:30 in the morning. It's difficult for me to start my mornings off with rice and lentils, quite a large platter, including eggs, a side of vegetables, and water and chia (tea). Completely stuffed, I check my bag and off I walk to school, which, long way or short way, it takes me 5 minutes? A conundrum if you ask me.
When I arrive at the school, I've been told numerous times that my class doesn't start for another 20 minutes. What's confusing to them is that no one preps for a class. They simply show up and work out of the lesson plan book. So the fact that I sit alone, most of the time, in the teachers' prep room must be an anomaly to them. But as time marches forward, many that have made no attempt to acknowledge my presence or just exchange a hello now peek their heads in to say hello, they'll wave from their classrooms as I leave the campus, and are starting to speak as much English, as they are capable, with me.
My host teacher is a bit of a different character and sometimes I get the feeling that he is using me as his stepping stool for recognition by the government as being an exemplar teacher, so I am learning on the fly how to work alongside someone who doesn't let me finish my sentences, demand I create his lesson plans, and sends mixed messages on times, expectations, etc. We have our first WorldTeach meeting in the city today to discuss our experiences, struggles, successes, etc.
So, Sunday through Thursday, I start off my morning at 9:35 to work with level 12 learners who are there upon a voluntary basis. It's a program after their classes are finished to sharpen their English skills in speaking, writing, listening, and reading. Their mandatory classes begin around 6 am and will run until ~9:30. This includes the 2-year bachelor's students. Then the younger students begin their day at 10 am and will go until 4 pm. So my level 12 class ranges in size from 18-35. It depends on the day, I guess. They are a really nice group of students and seem to really have a deep appreciation of my being there. Already after 4 days, they are becoming more and more comfortable in trying to speak English. They've learned English as a compulsory subject since the grade 1, and as 12th graders, they were never given an opportunity to present in English. They can read passages but have no idea what the passage means. They can listen intently, but don't/can't always process what is being said. Part of this issue stems from many teachers who are ill-equipped or insecure about teaching a language that is foreign to them, so most of the English classes will be taught in Nepali. Now you know the rest of the story.
After my level 12 class, I have about an hour to plan at the school until I teach my level 3 students, followed immediately by my level 4 students. Seeming I've never taught the elementary classes, this was a foreign concept and having no resources, I struggle to come up with engaging activities, games, and other learning components. So, I've purchased a pack of copy paper and have used colored pencils, crayons, pens, pencils to create flash cards, homework assignments, maps, and yes, it is very tedious, but not only am I trying to engage my students to learn English effectively, but I'm also modeling different teaching strategies to my Nepali co-teachers who work really hard and actually embrace the concept of co-teaching. Sometimes they help translate, they'll even write down my lessons, ask to use some of my tools I've created, and see a different way of presenting material. They are extremely friendly, and shy, and speak broken English, but I imagine they're learning a lot just from me speaking English the entire time in the classroom.
The students are absolutely wonderful and charming. They work really hard and they work to impress!! They are very respectful of teachers let alone adults, and so behavior management is not really an issue. Sometimes, when I think a prepared lesson is going to be a hit, it absolutely fails, and so through constant self-assessment, I need to spend at least another 5-6 hours in the evening sharpening my next day's plan.
Between my level 4 class and my level 2, I walk back home to have some chiso (cold drink), and a snack. Then I head back to the school for my 2:40-3:20 class. I've sung a few songs and they love it and the songs will tie into my lessons, which is great! They are such fun children, but a major disconnect is that there are age ranges amongst the students. There are clearly some students who should be bumped up to the next grade level and some that should be dropped a level just so that they have a fighting chance at learning. There is also a handful of students that have just moved in from remote villages, so while they practice writing their alphabet in English, most of the other students are working on the presented material. There is a major disconnect, but at the very least, we can share a smile.
After waking up, I collect my towel, wash rag, change of clothes for the day and sleepily walk to the bathroom, which is upstairs and I take the coldest shower that, in hindsight, actually gives me no choice but to wake up, which is fine with me. I've adapted quite well. There is no separate shower chamber, so you must squeegee the excess water to the drain against the wall. Then I head back downstairs and start to get ready, already sweating by this time. I make no attempt to dry my hair; kind of pointless in this humidity. Shortly before I leave for school, I am called to eat my dhal bhat, around 8:30 in the morning. It's difficult for me to start my mornings off with rice and lentils, quite a large platter, including eggs, a side of vegetables, and water and chia (tea). Completely stuffed, I check my bag and off I walk to school, which, long way or short way, it takes me 5 minutes? A conundrum if you ask me.
When I arrive at the school, I've been told numerous times that my class doesn't start for another 20 minutes. What's confusing to them is that no one preps for a class. They simply show up and work out of the lesson plan book. So the fact that I sit alone, most of the time, in the teachers' prep room must be an anomaly to them. But as time marches forward, many that have made no attempt to acknowledge my presence or just exchange a hello now peek their heads in to say hello, they'll wave from their classrooms as I leave the campus, and are starting to speak as much English, as they are capable, with me.
My host teacher is a bit of a different character and sometimes I get the feeling that he is using me as his stepping stool for recognition by the government as being an exemplar teacher, so I am learning on the fly how to work alongside someone who doesn't let me finish my sentences, demand I create his lesson plans, and sends mixed messages on times, expectations, etc. We have our first WorldTeach meeting in the city today to discuss our experiences, struggles, successes, etc.
So, Sunday through Thursday, I start off my morning at 9:35 to work with level 12 learners who are there upon a voluntary basis. It's a program after their classes are finished to sharpen their English skills in speaking, writing, listening, and reading. Their mandatory classes begin around 6 am and will run until ~9:30. This includes the 2-year bachelor's students. Then the younger students begin their day at 10 am and will go until 4 pm. So my level 12 class ranges in size from 18-35. It depends on the day, I guess. They are a really nice group of students and seem to really have a deep appreciation of my being there. Already after 4 days, they are becoming more and more comfortable in trying to speak English. They've learned English as a compulsory subject since the grade 1, and as 12th graders, they were never given an opportunity to present in English. They can read passages but have no idea what the passage means. They can listen intently, but don't/can't always process what is being said. Part of this issue stems from many teachers who are ill-equipped or insecure about teaching a language that is foreign to them, so most of the English classes will be taught in Nepali. Now you know the rest of the story.
After my level 12 class, I have about an hour to plan at the school until I teach my level 3 students, followed immediately by my level 4 students. Seeming I've never taught the elementary classes, this was a foreign concept and having no resources, I struggle to come up with engaging activities, games, and other learning components. So, I've purchased a pack of copy paper and have used colored pencils, crayons, pens, pencils to create flash cards, homework assignments, maps, and yes, it is very tedious, but not only am I trying to engage my students to learn English effectively, but I'm also modeling different teaching strategies to my Nepali co-teachers who work really hard and actually embrace the concept of co-teaching. Sometimes they help translate, they'll even write down my lessons, ask to use some of my tools I've created, and see a different way of presenting material. They are extremely friendly, and shy, and speak broken English, but I imagine they're learning a lot just from me speaking English the entire time in the classroom.
The students are absolutely wonderful and charming. They work really hard and they work to impress!! They are very respectful of teachers let alone adults, and so behavior management is not really an issue. Sometimes, when I think a prepared lesson is going to be a hit, it absolutely fails, and so through constant self-assessment, I need to spend at least another 5-6 hours in the evening sharpening my next day's plan.
Between my level 4 class and my level 2, I walk back home to have some chiso (cold drink), and a snack. Then I head back to the school for my 2:40-3:20 class. I've sung a few songs and they love it and the songs will tie into my lessons, which is great! They are such fun children, but a major disconnect is that there are age ranges amongst the students. There are clearly some students who should be bumped up to the next grade level and some that should be dropped a level just so that they have a fighting chance at learning. There is also a handful of students that have just moved in from remote villages, so while they practice writing their alphabet in English, most of the other students are working on the presented material. There is a major disconnect, but at the very least, we can share a smile.
Monday, June 23, 2014
My First Day at School!
So I woke up with jitters, nerves, and uncertainty, not knowing what to expect in my first day at the school. I think once I sat down to observe my first class, I felt a little better. However, the process leading up to that point was full of silence, the perception that I was shy, and, I'm sure, a little discontent amongst teachers that don't want to change their very easy routine. When I met the headmaster, a.k.a. head principal, he wouldn't even look at me. In fact, he kept his back to me during introductions. He spoke only to Ganga, and after speaking with my roommate, Heather, we both gathered he is not very fond of women as equal status.
In the planning room, I asked an English teacher if there was Internet, as this was what I was told, and, without looking at me, she responded with "In Nepal, we speak up. Now please repeat your question." I know that was a hierarchy pecking order response, letting me know where I stand, but, again, as Ganga told us to always remember, we are here for the students, not to impress the teachers. If they climb aboard, then great! If not, it's the students that will benefit from us. He used the infamous story of the starfish.
I met the assistant headmaster, who is pretty fluent in English, and I was told he is like the "Don" of this community and school, for those of you who are familiar with 'The Godfather'. He carries himself in such a way, but, again, he has been helpful, which is all that matters.
I was given 4 classes to teach: my first class is reading, writing, and speaking with 12th graders, who have no set curriculum or book, so I'm under the impression that you bring any topic to the table.
In the later morning, early afternoon, I teach grades 3, 4, and 2, respectively, which is a big change from the young adults I'm used to working with, but it seems all exciting as they exhibit high energy and a value in learning. Then, on Fridays, I will be running a workshop in the morning, before my classes, to teach young adults, current teachers, and teachers-in-the-making teaching strategies and management. I'm not sure what to use for this workshop, so I figured I would start off as an open forum and go from there.
When I sat in on the classes, which are English classes, only one teacher actually spoke in English while the other spoke in Nepali and expected the students to respond in English. They have very basic government-administered lesson books, which are about huge size of a small composition book in the states, and teachers show up, use the book for a very basic lesson, spend about 15 minutes, or so, checking a few lines students have written in their books and then it's the end of the period.
The most upsetting observation is that there are very bright students, but since teachers don't plan, nor are they expected to, what you give is what you get. I sat in the planning room to plan, and teachers sat in the planning room to chat and carry nothing on them except a correcting pen and a white board marker.
I went to observe my last class and when I arrived, she was finished with her lesson, but gave me the lesson book and told me I need to teach chapter 4 tomorrow. There was a miscommunication regarding time; in addition, this program is designed to co-teach and work side by side with Nepalese English teachers, however, I already have the feeling that they are going to disappear and use the next six weeks as time off from their English classes.
I already have one of my lessons planned for tomorrow, however, it's grades 2 and 3 I really need to look at much further and generate some activities. It's more difficult when you have nothing to work with, unless you buy it at the stationary store, which is along my walk to school. I will need to figure out what I need and purchase it sometime this week.
Anyway, I'm off to plan. It should be an interesting first week of school!
In the planning room, I asked an English teacher if there was Internet, as this was what I was told, and, without looking at me, she responded with "In Nepal, we speak up. Now please repeat your question." I know that was a hierarchy pecking order response, letting me know where I stand, but, again, as Ganga told us to always remember, we are here for the students, not to impress the teachers. If they climb aboard, then great! If not, it's the students that will benefit from us. He used the infamous story of the starfish.
I met the assistant headmaster, who is pretty fluent in English, and I was told he is like the "Don" of this community and school, for those of you who are familiar with 'The Godfather'. He carries himself in such a way, but, again, he has been helpful, which is all that matters.
I was given 4 classes to teach: my first class is reading, writing, and speaking with 12th graders, who have no set curriculum or book, so I'm under the impression that you bring any topic to the table.
In the later morning, early afternoon, I teach grades 3, 4, and 2, respectively, which is a big change from the young adults I'm used to working with, but it seems all exciting as they exhibit high energy and a value in learning. Then, on Fridays, I will be running a workshop in the morning, before my classes, to teach young adults, current teachers, and teachers-in-the-making teaching strategies and management. I'm not sure what to use for this workshop, so I figured I would start off as an open forum and go from there.
When I sat in on the classes, which are English classes, only one teacher actually spoke in English while the other spoke in Nepali and expected the students to respond in English. They have very basic government-administered lesson books, which are about huge size of a small composition book in the states, and teachers show up, use the book for a very basic lesson, spend about 15 minutes, or so, checking a few lines students have written in their books and then it's the end of the period.
The most upsetting observation is that there are very bright students, but since teachers don't plan, nor are they expected to, what you give is what you get. I sat in the planning room to plan, and teachers sat in the planning room to chat and carry nothing on them except a correcting pen and a white board marker.
I went to observe my last class and when I arrived, she was finished with her lesson, but gave me the lesson book and told me I need to teach chapter 4 tomorrow. There was a miscommunication regarding time; in addition, this program is designed to co-teach and work side by side with Nepalese English teachers, however, I already have the feeling that they are going to disappear and use the next six weeks as time off from their English classes.
I already have one of my lessons planned for tomorrow, however, it's grades 2 and 3 I really need to look at much further and generate some activities. It's more difficult when you have nothing to work with, unless you buy it at the stationary store, which is along my walk to school. I will need to figure out what I need and purchase it sometime this week.
Anyway, I'm off to plan. It should be an interesting first week of school!
My first night with my host family!
Sunya (Dai= elder brother) and Kabita (Didi= elder sister) are such charming host parents. Didi stays at home during the day with Ama (grandmother) and Dai works at a shop in Thamel. He gets there by a motorbike and it just seems so dangerous to me to use that means of transportation, especially during monsoon season. If I was Didi, I would be so worried he would not make it home.
As darkness moved in, it was dal bhat time and as kind as my Didi put out a spoon for me, I ate my dinner with my right hand for the first time. It wasn't as difficult or messy as I anticipated. You cannot use your left hand because that is the hand that you "take care of bathroom business" with, so it is considered unclean. I couldn't imagine if I was a lefty!
I met Heather last night, who is from Virginia. She volunteer teaches at a private school and works at a children's home. She is very sweet and has such positive energy and we seem to have a lot in common. There are two little girls from the community that spends a lot of time here and they are embraced as if these children are their own. It takes me back to the quote, "it takes a village" and it makes me feel really good that communities still embrace this concept!
Last night, when Dai returned home from work in Thamel, he and Didi joined us in Heather's room, sitting on the floor talking about anything and everything, family, Heather and my families back home, herbal remedies that serve as powerful and effective medicines locally. Just observing the compassion and kindness that Didi and Dai exhibit towards each other makes me feel so fortunate to be witness to this congenial relationship. I was thinking last night how calm I am here. How I don't feel anxiety, anger, frustration. It is so calming, it is almost therapeutic. It's the complete antithesis of the United States, or anywhere I've traveled, for the most part.
After we sat around and talked for a bit, Dai wanted to watch the World Cup, Argentina vs. Iran, so we all gathered in their bedroom, on the floor, on the bed, and watched the game on TV. What a game- it was very intense and Argentina's star player, Messi, finally scored a goal at the very end! At halftime, Dai asked Didi to make some black tea with ginger (yum!) and then he brought up a mango, Didi quartering it and we ate mango as a refreshing snack.
After the game, we went to bed. They have a rather large, all-black German Shepherd with beady yellow eyes, and all I've heard him do is bark. I've heard he snarls, can bite from time to time, but while walking downstairs to bed, he just watched me and, disinterested, went back to sleep.
I pulled my mosquito net down, sprayed the net and the outline of my bed with OFF; you could see the mosquitoes in the room, flying over my bed and all. After I pulled the net down, I heard the mosquitoes and their high-pitched buzzing and kept thinking that they were inside the net with me. Dai said you can even hear them bounce off of the net- maybe tonight I can see such a show!
As darkness moved in, it was dal bhat time and as kind as my Didi put out a spoon for me, I ate my dinner with my right hand for the first time. It wasn't as difficult or messy as I anticipated. You cannot use your left hand because that is the hand that you "take care of bathroom business" with, so it is considered unclean. I couldn't imagine if I was a lefty!
I met Heather last night, who is from Virginia. She volunteer teaches at a private school and works at a children's home. She is very sweet and has such positive energy and we seem to have a lot in common. There are two little girls from the community that spends a lot of time here and they are embraced as if these children are their own. It takes me back to the quote, "it takes a village" and it makes me feel really good that communities still embrace this concept!
Last night, when Dai returned home from work in Thamel, he and Didi joined us in Heather's room, sitting on the floor talking about anything and everything, family, Heather and my families back home, herbal remedies that serve as powerful and effective medicines locally. Just observing the compassion and kindness that Didi and Dai exhibit towards each other makes me feel so fortunate to be witness to this congenial relationship. I was thinking last night how calm I am here. How I don't feel anxiety, anger, frustration. It is so calming, it is almost therapeutic. It's the complete antithesis of the United States, or anywhere I've traveled, for the most part.
After we sat around and talked for a bit, Dai wanted to watch the World Cup, Argentina vs. Iran, so we all gathered in their bedroom, on the floor, on the bed, and watched the game on TV. What a game- it was very intense and Argentina's star player, Messi, finally scored a goal at the very end! At halftime, Dai asked Didi to make some black tea with ginger (yum!) and then he brought up a mango, Didi quartering it and we ate mango as a refreshing snack.
After the game, we went to bed. They have a rather large, all-black German Shepherd with beady yellow eyes, and all I've heard him do is bark. I've heard he snarls, can bite from time to time, but while walking downstairs to bed, he just watched me and, disinterested, went back to sleep.
I pulled my mosquito net down, sprayed the net and the outline of my bed with OFF; you could see the mosquitoes in the room, flying over my bed and all. After I pulled the net down, I heard the mosquitoes and their high-pitched buzzing and kept thinking that they were inside the net with me. Dai said you can even hear them bounce off of the net- maybe tonight I can see such a show!
Friday, June 20, 2014
Perhaps too much is never a good thing!
As I need a little more time to reflect on yesterday's very cultural and amazing observations, I figured I would take a moment to say: oy vey!
So I am always open to trying new foods, new drinks, the locally fermented beverages (rashki), and never refusing a dish that is genuinely offered. In fact, I can be a human garbage disposal when it comes to food. I simply enjoy it and the effort that is put into the dish and, most of all, the company that surrounds me while eating.
However, food has not treated my sensitive stomach too well these past few days. In fact, it has felt like a curse! Imagine the pain of a cramp and then magnify that by 10, feeling your stomach bloat beyond your pants' line and then your head feeling so consumed by nausea that your entire being is so irritable. Oh yeah, and sit in a very erect chair for a 2.5 hour Nepali lesson, wondering when your next escape to the toilet will be.
Urmila, our beloved Nepali teacher, is very intense and if you lose her lesson for just one moment, it is hard to regain your footing. Lost did not describe my state of mind. She called on me so many times that even my volunteer friends felt bad for me as they knew I was feeling so miserable. In fact, one noted my face looked so pained. I was off my Nepali game and confusion set in and I could not keep up with her today. I kept chewing on mint to calm my stomach cramps, took two Pepto Bismol tablets, and skipped lunch with the exception of some lemon soda (which is supposed to help calm your stomach) and a tall glass of hot lemon water with honey. Very lethargic and feeling miserable, I bucked up, dug my heels in, and finished the day. I was up around 06:30 am and returned to the hotel by 06:15 pm. As many of the group members went to purchase phones and walk around Thamel district in Kathmandu until our dinner time of 07:00 pm, I "took care of business", if you will, laid down for a little and then registered for safety precautions with the U.S. Embassy; God forbid anything occurs while we are here, or family needs to know our whereabouts, the Embassy can swoop in and locate us for safety.
I took my first Cipro pill today as the Pepto Bismol proved ineffective. We'll see what happens. I'm a little nervous about feeling so rotten right before I move into my host family's home and being in such a troubled physical state. Trying to think of the culprit, it could be the condensed milk in the Nepali tea, the ever-present curry, cardamom, chili powder and assortment of spices that are iconic of Nepal and India. Back home in the states, I can eat a spicy meal for a couple of days and feel fine, but the constant immersion of spices and curry ever present in every meal, every side, every day, may, indeed, have proved to be too much for my high maintenance, sensitive colon.
Now is not the time to be reserved and 'private' as we are so used to back in the states about our own physical condition and the unmentionables of colon issues, diarrhea, IBS (irritable bowel syndrome), or anything of the sort. The locals and our leaders, and fellow volunteers need to be aware of all conditions because if intervention or medical assistance is needed, you cannot wait until you're glued to the bathroom floor in a fetal position, crying because the pain won't stop. Be smart. Be proactive. Take care of yourself while traveling abroad.
So I am always open to trying new foods, new drinks, the locally fermented beverages (rashki), and never refusing a dish that is genuinely offered. In fact, I can be a human garbage disposal when it comes to food. I simply enjoy it and the effort that is put into the dish and, most of all, the company that surrounds me while eating.
However, food has not treated my sensitive stomach too well these past few days. In fact, it has felt like a curse! Imagine the pain of a cramp and then magnify that by 10, feeling your stomach bloat beyond your pants' line and then your head feeling so consumed by nausea that your entire being is so irritable. Oh yeah, and sit in a very erect chair for a 2.5 hour Nepali lesson, wondering when your next escape to the toilet will be.
Urmila, our beloved Nepali teacher, is very intense and if you lose her lesson for just one moment, it is hard to regain your footing. Lost did not describe my state of mind. She called on me so many times that even my volunteer friends felt bad for me as they knew I was feeling so miserable. In fact, one noted my face looked so pained. I was off my Nepali game and confusion set in and I could not keep up with her today. I kept chewing on mint to calm my stomach cramps, took two Pepto Bismol tablets, and skipped lunch with the exception of some lemon soda (which is supposed to help calm your stomach) and a tall glass of hot lemon water with honey. Very lethargic and feeling miserable, I bucked up, dug my heels in, and finished the day. I was up around 06:30 am and returned to the hotel by 06:15 pm. As many of the group members went to purchase phones and walk around Thamel district in Kathmandu until our dinner time of 07:00 pm, I "took care of business", if you will, laid down for a little and then registered for safety precautions with the U.S. Embassy; God forbid anything occurs while we are here, or family needs to know our whereabouts, the Embassy can swoop in and locate us for safety.
I took my first Cipro pill today as the Pepto Bismol proved ineffective. We'll see what happens. I'm a little nervous about feeling so rotten right before I move into my host family's home and being in such a troubled physical state. Trying to think of the culprit, it could be the condensed milk in the Nepali tea, the ever-present curry, cardamom, chili powder and assortment of spices that are iconic of Nepal and India. Back home in the states, I can eat a spicy meal for a couple of days and feel fine, but the constant immersion of spices and curry ever present in every meal, every side, every day, may, indeed, have proved to be too much for my high maintenance, sensitive colon.
Now is not the time to be reserved and 'private' as we are so used to back in the states about our own physical condition and the unmentionables of colon issues, diarrhea, IBS (irritable bowel syndrome), or anything of the sort. The locals and our leaders, and fellow volunteers need to be aware of all conditions because if intervention or medical assistance is needed, you cannot wait until you're glued to the bathroom floor in a fetal position, crying because the pain won't stop. Be smart. Be proactive. Take care of yourself while traveling abroad.
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Decompression.
There comes a time in committed travels when one needs to stop, breathe, take it all, process, and decompress. I'm at that point. Don't get me wrong- I'm not so stressed out that I can't fathom being here any longer. Rather, it's the complete opposite.
When you pour your heart and soul into a cause, and you're open to anything and everything, and you engage genuinely with every single individual you meet, you can quickly become emotionally, physically, and mentally spent. And if you're not careful and honest with yourself that you've reached that threshold, it can be dangerous for your state of mind while embarking on a mission, or journey, if you will. I did not fully recognize it when I was in Africa and the senses were exhausted by different sights, like AIDS-infected orphans, witnessing the states of fear and anxiety by those who dared to enter a clinic to be tested, the fact that in the village in which I stayed for about 3 weeks, the rape rate was ~83%. We had intense seminars, always meeting new people, traveling in large crowds, traveling greater distances, staying in new places and adjusting over and over again.
For Nepal, it's the senses that are always engaged, but differently. The jet lag is a tougher one to adjust to, so many of us are automatically up around 4am, no matter how late we go to bed. We meet at 8am for breakfast to begin our day, and afterwards, off to the NELTA office we go! We start our morning with a very mentally-strenuous language lesson that lasts for two hours and then we transition into more briefings, we travel further, meet new people, but the sights of Kathmandu are full of kind, very curious Nepalis who are eager to welcome you with a 'Namaste'!
The traffic is another sight, which can wear you out just through observation. The rules of traffic? There are none and Kathmandu is so crowded and populated. There are no traffic lights, and even though there are a few white lines on the road, no one adheres to their parameters. Bicycles, motorcycles, micro-buses, full-sized buses, cars, rickshaws, and pedestrians all, somehow, manage to continue towards their destinations, somehow avoiding getting hit, getting into accidents (thus far), and will not hesitate to let you know they are coming by a constant warning of the horn. There are really no street signs, except every now and then a sign that tells you that you cannot turn left or right, but other than that, nothing. As Kathmandu and other districts are going through a major two-year project of widening the roads, the pollution is insane! Dust and exhaust fill the air and many have resorted to wearing face masks as a health conscious attempt to protect their lungs. Yesterday, while traveling to Lalitpur, the dust was so intense, while in the micro-bus, that I was gritting dirt in my teeth. My eyes were filled with dust and just a flush of Visine that evening burned, but re-hydrated my eyes and I could sleep without them burning.
Even the intense anticipation of what is to come for the teaching part of this volunteerism is kind of anxiety-filled. Perhaps it's my own obsessive-compulsive organization and innate desire to know my expectations so that, not only will I meet them, but hopefully exceed them to the best that I can serve within my short stay here. What I need to realize is that I won't know until I arrive. The unknown for a compulsive planner can be unnerving. As a teacher back in the states,who spends much time on attending the needs of my students, preparing, studying, grading, etc., it's a different twist here. The teachers simply don't plan their lessons. They show up and work out of an assignment book and that's it. This has significantly impacted the quality of education, which is what NELTA seeks to change at every level, raising the sustainability levels of education and the Nepali peoples. For a country that works six days a week, mandates 210 days of school for students, it is obvious that something has to significantly change if Nepal hopes to raise their overall living standards for all citizens with intentions of becoming a strong global participant in this ever-growing globalized world.
I see how hard the Nepalese communities work, and six days at that. I think of how many Americans seek less hours, less efforts, more money, and more vacation time. Purchasing six kurthas, three pairs of pants that match the kurthas, I paid about $100. The exchange rate is about $1- 100 Rupaya. The kurthas are beautifully-crafted cloths that can easily run for $50, $60- some dollars each and it was no big deal to afford them as much as I despise shopping. I wondered how long it would take the common Nepali to earn just that amount. It's a gut check on how fortunate our country is and how we must be so careful to restore its integrity, its higher standards of living, its freedoms. We cannot take it for granted and we must take care of each other. The Nepali communities exhibit such care and concern as if the whole country is one big family. My greatest fear is that I will return to the states to encounter snobbery, cold stares, the entitlement that everyone was somehow privy to just for being alive, the individualized society that I never feel like I belong in, and a lack of concern for the well-being of others. It's become all too epidemic and if we don't return to a similar concept, like Nepal's, we will surely fall.
So as I sit alone in the hotel cafe, sipping four cups of Nepali tea, indulging in a delicious plate of rice with garlic chicken soup on top, I contemplate, I reflect, and I try to fully grasp my service to Nepal, my role in my own country, and try to continue to discover who I am through these committed efforts and incredibly special encounters. Sometimes we all need to take a little break, sit back, and look at the bigger picture. And it's in these times where, if we really do see with our eyes, feel with our hearts, empathize with those who struggle more than we do, embrace an appreciation for those who strive to the be the best they can be whether it's a leader of some sort, a pauper, a laborer, a student, we allow ourselves to grow and prepare for the possibilities; it's then, and only then that we can honestly say that we live an amazing life, a true gift provided us, and never have any regrets.
When you pour your heart and soul into a cause, and you're open to anything and everything, and you engage genuinely with every single individual you meet, you can quickly become emotionally, physically, and mentally spent. And if you're not careful and honest with yourself that you've reached that threshold, it can be dangerous for your state of mind while embarking on a mission, or journey, if you will. I did not fully recognize it when I was in Africa and the senses were exhausted by different sights, like AIDS-infected orphans, witnessing the states of fear and anxiety by those who dared to enter a clinic to be tested, the fact that in the village in which I stayed for about 3 weeks, the rape rate was ~83%. We had intense seminars, always meeting new people, traveling in large crowds, traveling greater distances, staying in new places and adjusting over and over again.
For Nepal, it's the senses that are always engaged, but differently. The jet lag is a tougher one to adjust to, so many of us are automatically up around 4am, no matter how late we go to bed. We meet at 8am for breakfast to begin our day, and afterwards, off to the NELTA office we go! We start our morning with a very mentally-strenuous language lesson that lasts for two hours and then we transition into more briefings, we travel further, meet new people, but the sights of Kathmandu are full of kind, very curious Nepalis who are eager to welcome you with a 'Namaste'!
The traffic is another sight, which can wear you out just through observation. The rules of traffic? There are none and Kathmandu is so crowded and populated. There are no traffic lights, and even though there are a few white lines on the road, no one adheres to their parameters. Bicycles, motorcycles, micro-buses, full-sized buses, cars, rickshaws, and pedestrians all, somehow, manage to continue towards their destinations, somehow avoiding getting hit, getting into accidents (thus far), and will not hesitate to let you know they are coming by a constant warning of the horn. There are really no street signs, except every now and then a sign that tells you that you cannot turn left or right, but other than that, nothing. As Kathmandu and other districts are going through a major two-year project of widening the roads, the pollution is insane! Dust and exhaust fill the air and many have resorted to wearing face masks as a health conscious attempt to protect their lungs. Yesterday, while traveling to Lalitpur, the dust was so intense, while in the micro-bus, that I was gritting dirt in my teeth. My eyes were filled with dust and just a flush of Visine that evening burned, but re-hydrated my eyes and I could sleep without them burning.
Even the intense anticipation of what is to come for the teaching part of this volunteerism is kind of anxiety-filled. Perhaps it's my own obsessive-compulsive organization and innate desire to know my expectations so that, not only will I meet them, but hopefully exceed them to the best that I can serve within my short stay here. What I need to realize is that I won't know until I arrive. The unknown for a compulsive planner can be unnerving. As a teacher back in the states,who spends much time on attending the needs of my students, preparing, studying, grading, etc., it's a different twist here. The teachers simply don't plan their lessons. They show up and work out of an assignment book and that's it. This has significantly impacted the quality of education, which is what NELTA seeks to change at every level, raising the sustainability levels of education and the Nepali peoples. For a country that works six days a week, mandates 210 days of school for students, it is obvious that something has to significantly change if Nepal hopes to raise their overall living standards for all citizens with intentions of becoming a strong global participant in this ever-growing globalized world.
I see how hard the Nepalese communities work, and six days at that. I think of how many Americans seek less hours, less efforts, more money, and more vacation time. Purchasing six kurthas, three pairs of pants that match the kurthas, I paid about $100. The exchange rate is about $1- 100 Rupaya. The kurthas are beautifully-crafted cloths that can easily run for $50, $60- some dollars each and it was no big deal to afford them as much as I despise shopping. I wondered how long it would take the common Nepali to earn just that amount. It's a gut check on how fortunate our country is and how we must be so careful to restore its integrity, its higher standards of living, its freedoms. We cannot take it for granted and we must take care of each other. The Nepali communities exhibit such care and concern as if the whole country is one big family. My greatest fear is that I will return to the states to encounter snobbery, cold stares, the entitlement that everyone was somehow privy to just for being alive, the individualized society that I never feel like I belong in, and a lack of concern for the well-being of others. It's become all too epidemic and if we don't return to a similar concept, like Nepal's, we will surely fall.
So as I sit alone in the hotel cafe, sipping four cups of Nepali tea, indulging in a delicious plate of rice with garlic chicken soup on top, I contemplate, I reflect, and I try to fully grasp my service to Nepal, my role in my own country, and try to continue to discover who I am through these committed efforts and incredibly special encounters. Sometimes we all need to take a little break, sit back, and look at the bigger picture. And it's in these times where, if we really do see with our eyes, feel with our hearts, empathize with those who struggle more than we do, embrace an appreciation for those who strive to the be the best they can be whether it's a leader of some sort, a pauper, a laborer, a student, we allow ourselves to grow and prepare for the possibilities; it's then, and only then that we can honestly say that we live an amazing life, a true gift provided us, and never have any regrets.
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
Our visit to the host school.
Today, after another very intense language course, we visited the U.S. Embassy for a short briefing on the mission of launching, supporting, and training ELL (English Language Learners) students and teachers, we learned of the Book Bus, which is absolutely encouraging and amazing! It's an actual bus that travels to various schools around the country with books, articles, laptops, and other various reading materials and the roof of the bus is solar-paneled, which is used to charge the computers for longer usage. Not only does this expose students to new reading materials, but it gets them excited about reading! What does one have to do to arrange for the Book Bus to arrive at their school? Just make a call to Prakash at the Embassy after receiving permission from the head principal of the school, set a date and it's done!
When five of us traveled to Lalitpur, a rural community south of Kathmandu, the views were absolutely stunning! Not only were the Himalayas clear and present and surrounding us, but I could also see the rice fields in the making, anticipating the monsoon in three-weeks time, the roads became narrower and the rural communities were hard at work in their fields, tending livestock, selling goods in the streets. The school we visited was very small, but about 4- levels high and the higher one was, the better view they had of the mountains and communities embedded within.
We first observed a brief lesson of English reading for 2nd graders, who couldn't help but stare at their Western visitors, eager to share the remaining space on the bench and wave and smile so emphatically. One couldn't help, but fall in love immediately. The second class we observed was the last one of the day, as schools run 10-4pm, and it was a 6th grade English lesson on perfect present, past, and future tense sentences. It became a little repetitive and it was obvious that as native English speakers, the teacher felt intimidated, so he informed us that, although it's an English lesson, he was going to speak in Nepali most of the time.
The majority of teaching in Nepal is direct instruction (mostly lecturing) and students are rarely encouraged to speak openly. If a teacher wants a student to answer a question, they will call on the student, that student rises, and answers accordingly. I think of my classes back home and can only think about the vast contrasts of interactions between students and teachers, and students and their peers. Corporal punishment still occurs in the school setting as it is not illegal, however, part of the NELTA incentive is to teach and train teachers alternatives to classroom/behavior management.
It's still a little unclear what my expectations are in the classroom, which will begin this Saturday, but hopefully as the week unravels, I'll have a better idea. Our group leader, Ganga, said we are to teach about 5 classes, beginning at 10 and ending at 4, but my Nepali host teacher mentioned a schedule of me showing up around 6:30/7 am and finishing around 8 pm, which includes the after school activities and additional planning. This would also include teaching a bachelor's program of studies as well as 10th, 11th, and 12th graders. I will be working alongside of him tomorrow, so hopefully some of the wrinkles will be ironed out by the close of our session. Another interesting fact is that Nepal's work week runs Sunday through Friday, with Saturday serving as the only holiday of the week. It makes sense as Nepal is not founded on Christianity nor does it bear much Christian influence, however, in Lalitpur, there is a size able Christian community due to missionary presence and there is a big use between the culture week of work and the Christians' belief in the Sabbath as a day of rest.
Well, it is getting late. Will respond soon.
When five of us traveled to Lalitpur, a rural community south of Kathmandu, the views were absolutely stunning! Not only were the Himalayas clear and present and surrounding us, but I could also see the rice fields in the making, anticipating the monsoon in three-weeks time, the roads became narrower and the rural communities were hard at work in their fields, tending livestock, selling goods in the streets. The school we visited was very small, but about 4- levels high and the higher one was, the better view they had of the mountains and communities embedded within.
We first observed a brief lesson of English reading for 2nd graders, who couldn't help but stare at their Western visitors, eager to share the remaining space on the bench and wave and smile so emphatically. One couldn't help, but fall in love immediately. The second class we observed was the last one of the day, as schools run 10-4pm, and it was a 6th grade English lesson on perfect present, past, and future tense sentences. It became a little repetitive and it was obvious that as native English speakers, the teacher felt intimidated, so he informed us that, although it's an English lesson, he was going to speak in Nepali most of the time.
The majority of teaching in Nepal is direct instruction (mostly lecturing) and students are rarely encouraged to speak openly. If a teacher wants a student to answer a question, they will call on the student, that student rises, and answers accordingly. I think of my classes back home and can only think about the vast contrasts of interactions between students and teachers, and students and their peers. Corporal punishment still occurs in the school setting as it is not illegal, however, part of the NELTA incentive is to teach and train teachers alternatives to classroom/behavior management.
It's still a little unclear what my expectations are in the classroom, which will begin this Saturday, but hopefully as the week unravels, I'll have a better idea. Our group leader, Ganga, said we are to teach about 5 classes, beginning at 10 and ending at 4, but my Nepali host teacher mentioned a schedule of me showing up around 6:30/7 am and finishing around 8 pm, which includes the after school activities and additional planning. This would also include teaching a bachelor's program of studies as well as 10th, 11th, and 12th graders. I will be working alongside of him tomorrow, so hopefully some of the wrinkles will be ironed out by the close of our session. Another interesting fact is that Nepal's work week runs Sunday through Friday, with Saturday serving as the only holiday of the week. It makes sense as Nepal is not founded on Christianity nor does it bear much Christian influence, however, in Lalitpur, there is a size able Christian community due to missionary presence and there is a big use between the culture week of work and the Christians' belief in the Sabbath as a day of rest.
Well, it is getting late. Will respond soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
My Parting Gifts
A parting gift from two of my students that worked so hard to create this beautiful piece of art that I can't wait to hang in my room next year!! Thank you so much for a wonderful year! You have touched my heart immensely!
Ganesha Chair
What a gorgeous expression of art! Thank you so much!
Map of Nepal
