The Dark Side of the Moon

How poetic is this title? Anyway, back on topic. Although my trip has been amazing, it is definitely not all rainbows, unicorns, lollipops and butterflies.

Class I. Oh what to do about Class I. This week, Jordan and I decided to drop Class I as we simply could not handle them. They scream and yell and jump on the tables and throw bags and it gets absolutely insane. No matter how loud or how much we yell and no matter how many stickers we give out, they simply do not listen to us. When I had their class, I would feel so helpless as I would have absolutely no control over them. When another teacher comes in, they miraculously turn into little angels. So quiet and so obedient. I think they know that we will never hit them or hurt them physically. But I hate telling them off or yelling at them to be quiet as I want to be a positive impact on their lives. When I have their class, I turn into a person that I'm not. I shout most of the time (which most people have not heard me do) and I get so exhausted that when they talk to me, I struggle to smile. I didn't want to give up on their class as I came here to give India my all but it just was not working. It's such a shame as we could have so much fun and do so much with these kids but if they don't listen and all we do is shout and yell, what is there to do? They'll give you all their attention if you let them draw or sing rhymes or give them colouring sheets but I didn't come to India to babysit.

We're currently taking Class 1 for the school concert and teaching them Old McDonald Had a Farm and it is a huge struggle. Instead of 40minutes of their screams, we have them for 75minutes. It really is so exhausting.

It's strange as I have developed quite a strict schedule when for the first seven months of 2012, I slept and ate and did whatever whenever I fancied. Now I wake up at 7:10, have breakfast at 7:30, finish up last minute preparations up to 9:00 where school starts. After school, I prepare for the next day and go up to town if I need to (have to return before sunset as there are lots of drunks up in town and no street lights) and play with the boarding kids until 7.30 which is dinner. There I chat and inform our hosts about our day until about 8.30. Then I shower or do my laundry and get ready for bed. Only then do I have time to myself (not really as I share a room but it's the closest thing I get). And by then I am so exhausted, I quickly write in my journal and fall asleep. If I try to sit outside after school and before dinner to do my own thing, somebody will come sit by me and watch what I do. And since that is awkward and uncomfortable, that will naturally turn into talks. I guess I don't really mind too much but it would be nice to have time to be alone without hiding out somewhere (I'm currently writing this inside the school canteen and look a that, kids who stayed behind for tuition have found me).

Since Pokhriabong is so high up in the hills and the clouds visit the town so often, everything is constantly damp. Making our room the perfect place for mould. It comes creeping over walls, paper, pillows and most annoyingly, clothes. This involves a lot of scrubbing to get rid of the mould on clothes or throwing away of paper or other not as important things.

Also, the dampness means that washed clothes do not dry completely and there is always a strange smell that comes out of freshly washed clothes. It is just such a nuisance.

From today, it has been three weeks since I've been away from home. This is the longest I've ever been without seeing my parent's faces. Although I'm not actually homesick, when I do think and dwell on thoughts of home, family and friends, I do get a bit sad and upset. When I have internet access to go on Facebook, I keep it to a minimum and avoid Newsfeed as I know I'll just feel left out or get a little homesick.

I'm being harassed by little children. A ten year old girl keeps trying to touch my face and calls me cute. A nine year old girl kisses me on the cheek to greet me and an eight year old girl strokes my face whenever she can and one time she grabbed my hair and put it against her face. This isn't really a negative but it is just a little bit strange...

Food is starting to get very repetitive. It is quite yum but having the same thing everyday can be a bit boring for the mouth. Breakfast is roti, egg and this chickpea/nut things with an overly sweet tea. Lunch is rice, potatoes, daal and some kind of vegetable. Dinner is either an Indian version of Chinese noodles or rice, potatoes, daal and some kind of vegetable. We get morning and afternoon tea which is once again an over sweetened tea. Never before have I craved pasta, pizza, steak and home-made food this much. Australia, treasure your access to a large variety of food. Eat for me!

On the plus side, I haven't gotten “Delhi Belly” yet! I expected food/water poisoning during the first week.

My immune system: 1 India: 0

Although, I think I'm catching a cold... So perhaps

My immune system: 1 India: 0.5

Sunrises and Reflections

I woke up early with the sunrise this morning and decided venture onto the roof of the hotel. I watched the clouds slowly move to reveal the majestic peaks of the Himalayas. The sounds of pigeons, calling birds, flowing water, the church bells and distant roosters were all I heard. And as the sunlight hit those peaks, the city of Darjeeling started to come alive. The thick fog lazily lifted to reveal an awakening hill station. People climbed onto the roofs of their houses to hang up their washing, trucks moved slowly through the streets, smoke chugged smoothly out of old chimneys and tea workers started their walks to the estates.

When people talk of India, they forget all about the awesome hill areas of this country and remember only the hustle and bustle of the over-populated cities. Although I've only been in India for two weeks, it seems much much longer. It's strange to realise that I've adapted quite well to the nation's way of living and the culture considering that Australia is so extremely different.

The biggest and most obvious difference is the general quality of living. Now as I speak of this, I refer to the lower working class as that is the only people I have interacted with (although many of the students come from families living on the poverty line, which is $1.25 a day). The rich will have the same living standards as Australians and the poor has one that I can not even begin to imagine.

I'll start with two words: Hot. Showers.

A shower head that flows out cold water is not that common as most people use buckets or a hose. But hot flowing water? Rare. I had a hot shower yesterday, the first since I got to India, and although only six streams of water came out and it was often inconsistent in flow, it was the most magical thing in the world. I can handle squat toilets, a constant dampness to my bedroom (I think it's the clouds coming through the window as the village is almost hourly immersed in the clouds) hand washing my clothes, no public toilet paper, itchy blankets, hard beds and a massive population of mosquitoes and bugs (my bed has become a graveyard for bugs. No I do not eat in my bed but there are just so many bugs here that they simply die and land on my bed) but cold bucket showers are definitely a struggle, especially since winter is rapidly approaching.

(I wrote this post a week ago and our bathroom is currently under renovation and I spy a hot water tank! It is ridiculous how excited Jordan and I am!)

However, the positives of my Indian adventure far outweighs any of the negatives of my placement. I mean how often does one see the sunrise hit the peaks of the Himalayas? Seeing the smiles on faces after a simple “namaste” or seeing the children's face light up as I walk into the classroom or hearing the hearty laughs of the people watching me as I immerse in the Indian culture (language, singing and dancing) is an absolute joy. Seeing strange sights such as painted on number plates or even sticky-taped paper number plates is absolutely hilarious to see. Playing Tekken in the local game store against the local boys and introducing Monopoly Deal to the boarding kids is so much fun. And having one of the biggest frights of my life as I realise that a wild monkey is about 30cm away from my face is a memory that I'll never forget. India is an amazing country full of diversity and wonder and I can't wait to explore more of it. I'm already learning so much about myself and about the world and I'm beginning to appreciate the simple things back home that I would not thing twice about such as education, clean water and my bed.

And most especially, hot showers.

A stickytaped paper number plate. Seems legit. 

A wild monkey that was frighteningly close to my face.

Himalayas

The sunrise over Darjeeling.

First days of teaching

Teaching at Sacred Heart School is definitely a challenge. I'm teaching English and Australian Geography to students within Class I up to Class VII (six year olds to thirteen year olds). Although this is an English medium school, and anyone caught speaking Nepalese or Hindi is fined 10-20rupees, their pronunciation and accents are pretty difficult to understand.

The students are not taught to raise their hands quietly if they have a question or if they know the answer, so shout “Miss!” as loudly as their little lungs can possibly manage. And if I do not acknowledge them, they walk up to me screaming “Miss!” and tug the edge of my salwar kameez. They get distracted easily and the lack of space in the classroom limits the amount of activities to play. However, giving out stickers gets them back on track. But there are some kids (Class III especially) do not understand the concept that one has to be good to receive a sticker so continually shout and move around the classroom and expect a sticker. I feel so terrible for yelling at them to be quiet, one time I yelled so hard my throat hurt at the end of the period, or punishing them somehow (asking them to stand in the corner or to stand outside) but the culture is so different that this is hardly a punishment. Their punishments are physical beatings which I am most definitely not going to do. However, Jordan and I sure did get it good as other volunteers are considering leaving their placements due to the brutality of punishments (backhands on the face, hits on the head with thin bamboo sticks and severe verbal abuse are among the punishments done to children as young as 8 for making a simple grammatical mistake. I heard that the teacher pointed at an eight year old boy and said, “This boy is evil as he comes from Bangladesh. He will never be a good person and is lower than everybody else.”).

One of the biggest differences between Australian children and Indian children is physical interaction. Over here, when the kids do not get along well; pulling, pushing, grabbing, punching, slapping, elbowing, kicking and hitting no matter the gender is something so common inside and out of the classroom. However when they do get along well, physical touch between the same sex is regularly seen. Both boys and girls of all ages are seen holding hands, arms around shoulders, hands on waists, linking arms or are somehow physically connected. One time in Class VII, I saw a boy continually kissing the cheek of his friend, who was a boy. It's a bit strange and I guess kind of cute to see. Also, I noticed that all the kids love dobbing on each other. There is no sense of group harmony, except for older classes, as each child is looking out for themselves.

“Miss! He's using a pen!”

“Miss! She's not sitting properly!”

“Miss! They put paper on the floor!”

“Miss! He's sleeping!”

“Miss! She drank water without asking!”

“Miss! He rubbed his drawing out!”

Honestly, it gets pretty annoying. What happened to backing your friends up? What happened to the idea that dobbers are teacher pets? Guess that's only back in Australia.

Whilst teaching there have been some absolutely pure gold moments such as a little boy randomly krumping in his chair, a little girl giving me the most seediest smile ever revealing her front two teeth gone, the little ones talking to me in supposed English but sounds like a whole other language leaving me with a blank expression, a stray dog randomly trotting into the classroom, a kid randomly getting out of his seat and marching up and down and around the room and a girl suddenly jumping out of her chair and dancing like Beyonce. For some reason, these moments make me laugh uncontrollably. Maybe it's because it's so random and unexpected that I don't know how to react but through laughter.  

Arrival at Pokhriabong

After a 10hour train ride from Kolkata to Siliguri, and another 4hour drive to Pokhriabong (excluding our stop at Mirik), Jordan and I finally arrived at our home for the next four months. It is located within the hills so not only do we get an absolutely amazing view and are often immersed within the clouds, but we also have to walk some very steep pathways. Like the walk to school from the village. It is a 5minute walk that turns into 10 as the rocks are often slippery and even more so when it rains. Pokhriabong is mostly filled with Nepali people who have asian features, and because of that I fit right in! Everybody in town knows everybody else and they are extremely friendly. When Jordan and I were in town, she disappeared with our kid tour guides so I sat on the side by my self on the street and all I received was smiles and namaste's.

Jordan and I not only share a room but a small house on campus with eight other people, our hostess and her husband, her mother in law, a teacher and four boarding girls. There is no lounge room or kitchen (the kitchen is separate from the house) as every single room turns into a bedroom. It is very cosy and very comfortable. My only struggle is the shower. Because we don't have one. We use a bucket and a jug to pour cold water (there is no hot water access here) to wash ourselves. Fun fact about me: I can't handle the cold as my circulation is extremely bad. So bad that in the 15degree Sydney winters, my toes turn purple. And even in summer, I have warm showers. In this humid Indian temperature, I'm coping with the cold water as it's refreshing but I'm dreading winter where it can get up to 0degrees as I'm probably going to die from hypothermia. We also have to hand wash our clothes, which I need to do soon actually.

Our host cooks amazing food for us and I aim, by the end of my placement, to be able to cook! Because of their Nepali background, the food also has an asian mix to it, so the food is pretty easy to adapt to. I have yet to have any Indian food that I ate in Australia. The food is completely different! I can already feel myself gaining weight as I'm eating so much more than I did in Australia! Especially since potato is a main component within the Indian diet and there's so much sugar within the teas and coffees. But it's all so delicious. I'm starting to eat with my hands and I think I'm getting the hang of it! At first it was extremely hard and everybody was laughing at me but it is very fun (and messy at times) and easy to learn.

Although Sacred Heart School is a private school, it is a school established for the poor. And because of this, the school is very small with only one building and has limited resources. There is no electricity in the school besides the office and one other classroom that has a projector. The children do not have access to coloured paper, coloured pencils or crayons, stickers or even scissors as they are simply not available here in Pokhriabong. Ten students live on the school and the others either catch the bus or walk up to 1.5hours to get to school! Most of the student's parents work in the tea estates, which Darjeeling is famous for, and do not have a wealthy income. So the academically excellent students who cannot afford their tuition do not have to pay for their school fees. The teaching methods here are very traditional with the use of corporal punishment and openly telling students they are the worst in the class. Encouraging and giving extra help to the students who are slower is not common, instead teachers regularly shout at them to keep up or pinch their hands and neck if they are not getting it correct. They loudly announce their mistakes to the rest of the class,

“His handwriting is poor.”

“They (the students stand up) are the top three in the class, and they (the students stand up) are the worst.”

“He is the naughtiest.”

“He is the slowest.”

And I heard a teacher yell, “If you get any of these wrong, you will get it!” to six year olds.

To say the least, I was shocked. The students do not understand the concept of simply saying, “I do not know” or “I need help” as it is frowned upon. However, I am not here to change the system but am here to lend a helping hand. I would like my classes to be beneficial in their development of self esteem and their realisation that it is okay not to understand and it is okay for them to voice their own opinion.

Despite this, there is an incredible teacher-student relationship. The kids treat the teachers with utmost respect however also treat them like friends, outside of school hours. They share food and water with one another, play with each other, put their arm around each other, the kids even buy snacks for the teachers, and the boarding children eat together with the teachers. They are indeed an amazing bunch of kids.

P.S. I do not have any internet and can only update my blog when I go into town and find an internet cafe. So I apologise for my probably lack of posts!

A typical classroom.

The town of Pokhriabong

My room for the next four months!

After an exhausting 15hours of travelling, me and the other 23 volunteers finally arrived in Kolkata. The first thing that hit me as we stepped outside of the airport was not the smell, which everybody says is horrible but it actually isn't too bad, but the humidity and the quality of the air. It felt like I was breathing in a sauna. It was so hot and the air was so thick, I found it difficult to breathe for the first hour. I literally saw the wing of the plane cut through the smog as we were landing. But I got used to it, and I'm fine with it now.

The first week in India is orientation week, where we're currently staying in Seva Kendra Hotel near the CBD of Kolkata. They are also catering for a group of blind people and they walk around the place holding the shoulder of the person in front of them in groups of 5-12. It was kind of confronting as there aren't many blind people in Sydney and if they are, they usually have a walking stick or a guide dog with them. So witnessing them bump into volunteers accidentally or groping the air for some kind of guide as to where they were was a different experience. However, seeing them laugh and smile to whatever event is definitely something that makes me smile also.

Whilst we were in the city, a small boy probably about six years old tugged on my shirt. I looked down at him and he holds out a plastic cup and speaks something in Hindi whilst pointing to my money pouch. I say sorry and walk away, however he continues to follow me and shake the cup with only a few rupees inside. Giving money to beggars, especially children, is discouraged as they are usually part of a group, and the leader receives all the money. With this thought I continued to shake my head and say sorry. It was so heartbreaking. Unfortunately homeless people is something very common and the housing itself is pretty horrible. Make-shift houses made from sticks with tin roofs and plastic walls is something all to common here.

The roads here are absolutely insane. There are no lane lines drawn so there are cars everywhere! Not to mention rickshaws and tuktuks! The opposing traffic are often on the same lane, but because of the insane traffic the cars are moving quite slow so there has been no near death experiences. Yet. There is constant honking of horns and sometimes I question the necessity of their honking. There is at least a honk every second. No exaggeration. It's pretty scary J-walking! A few friends and I got stuck in the middle of the road yesterday. Was quite the adventure!

So far the food has been excellent. The hotel is catering food specifically for us and intentionally dulled down the strong flavours and spices to help us adapt to Indian food, which was super nice of them. But after being served some questionable chicken yesterday for lunch, I decided to become vegetarian (KFC and McDonalds excluded), which is something many volunteers have decided to do. It's pretty difficult to be aware of dangers of drinking tap water, especially during showers. I drink nothing but bought bottled water (15rupees for a litre) and even brush my teeth with bottled water which is a hassle. But it's worth it as it's much easier to get water poisoning than food poisoning.

Overall, I think I am adapting to the Indian culture quite well. I expected a huge culture shock, but I really am not as shocked as I thought I would be! I'm quite accustomed to the clothing requirements here. Although we're not allowed to show shoulders or knees, the looseness and the thinness of our clothing allows a lot of ventilation so it doesn't get TOO hot. Also not wearing make-up is something very comfortable and probably necessary as it'll all coming melting off because of the humidity! I like how unaware of personal appearance I am now even though I probably look like a complete dag. Maybe it's because there aren't many mirrors around so I'm literally unaware of how I look or because the heat makes me not care. But I like it!

Random event:

Ate a lolly which I thought was black current flavoured because of its seemingly purple appearance. Happened to be chilli flavoured and was in fact, green and brown in colour. Was pretty bad.

View from the roof of the hotel. From what I've seen, these are good quality houses.

Family on the side of the street

I wrote the following on the plane ride to Singapore and it is currently my second day in India. So far, it is pretty epic and I feel like I'm adjusting well. I decided to become vegetarian after being served some questionable chicken for lunch yesterday. I'll write a post about my trip in India soon!

My eyes are immediately struck open at the sound of my alarm, as my first thought disturbs my slumber: Oh no. What have I done.

Today was the day of my departure, the first day of complete independence in a country I am completely unfamiliar with. Oh, God. What have I gotten myself into.

I write this now (obviously published later) on the upper deck of the world's largest plane as it prepares to lift off the ground. I'm frantically chewing gum to prevent my ears popping and I suddenly develop a phobia of flying. As I grip onto my arm rests, thoughts of the plane crashing or the engine breaking tease my sanity. Huge exaggeration but you get the general gist, I was pretty overwhelmed.

A few of my amazing friends saw me off at the airport this morning and after a seemingly normal breakfast outing of McDonalds and Pie Face, the time came where I had to walk into customs, by myself. Hugs were exchanged and tears were shed (mainly from me). I walked through the doors red faced, attempting to hold back tears, although a few fell down every now and then. I must've looked terrible because all the security and staff members gave me gently smiles whenever we made eye contact and one even helped me take out my laptop from my bag which apparently they're not allowed to do. I think I would've had a breakdown if it wasn't for me running into three other volunteers. They calmed me down a lot as we casually talked of what we've been up to since we last saw each other at the YPWB camp.

Did I mention that I have amazing friends? They and my extended family made me a scrapbook. Letters, photos and messages of encouragement and love to help me when I'm homesick. I was and still am so very tempted to read them but I think I'll save it until I'm really feeling the homesickness. Thank you everyone who wrote in it. I really do appreciate it and it looks absolutely amazing. <3

I'm not sure if my independence is starting off on a good note as I found myself in a few embarrassing situations. As I boarded the plane, I was absolutely amazed at large amounts of space and the luxurious looking chairs. As I was dawdling and looking for my seat, a stewardess approaches me and asks if I need assistance. I showed her my ticket and with a smile she guided me out of the first class suites and into the economy class compartments. Oops.

And as I was getting comfortable in my economy class chair (which is pretty good), I realised that I left a few things in my backpack. So I got up and reached up, with tip toes, to open the top cabinets. However, my backpack slid down to the back out of my reach. After a few attempts of trying to be casual and reaching further and tip-toeing higher, all eyes on deck were on me. I think some were halfway out of their seat to come and help me but after a small jump, my fingertips grasped the course fabric of my bag. Embarrassing.

After finally getting comfortable and the plane was flying smoothly in the air, I wondered what movies they were showing for entertainment. I got out my headphones and stared at the screen in front of me. Hmm..where do I plug my headphones? I didn't want to ask for help and look stupid so instead I waited and waited until the person next to me, across the aisle used theirs. And of course! It's in the arm rest.

Although the day started off with a variety of emotions bundled up in a knot, I'm feeling a lot more calmer, a lot more pumped and a lot more excited. Bring it, India! I'm coming for you!

Lots of love from Kolkata, India. 

S&T (:

The time has nearly arrived for me to depart. It's strange to think that in less than 30 hours, I'll be stepping aboard the plane to Kolkata. All those months, weeks and days of waiting certainly have crept up on me. And now it's time for me to go. I feel so unprepared, so unready. I should've spent more time watching bollywood films, more time on researching the history of India, more time on learning the language and more time on simply preparing myself for one of the biggest experiences that is yet to come in my life.

However what's done is done and all I can is start preparing for the exciting, unknown, inevitable future. I've started taking my malaria tablets yesterday, which are going to be an absolute pain taking because I have to consume one a day everyday at the same time. And guess what? I forgot to take them today. Day two and already forgot. Good job, Sharon! Also on the medical information sheet, it says that I'm supposed to take them for a maximum of 8weeks. Hmm... will it be dangerous if I take them for 20weeks...? Medical students, advice!

The one thing that I absolutely dread with all camps, trips, vacations etc, is the packing. There is something about it that I just can't deal with. Maybe its the essential notion of organisation and the ability to pack to needs rather than wants that takes me so long to pack. You think it'll be easy right? I mean what is there to pack? Just some clothes, toiletries, and other essential things, right? That's what I thought but here I am with half of my belongings packed neatly inside my rucksack whilst the other half is flung chaotically around my room. Maybe it's a sense of denial, an inner refusal to leave my comfort zone, my home. Who knows? I just know that I won't be sleeping early tonight, not because I'm excited about my trip (which I am), but because I'll be running around the house frantically trying to pack last minute. A five month trip and I'm packing the day before. Typical.

The first five days in India will be orientation week where all volunteers, 24 in total, will experience valuable lessons with subjects such as the Indian culture, teaching tips, classroom methods and child psychology being amongst them. Then we'll all separate into our own individual ways, hopefully seeing one another during weekend trips over the next 5 months. 

I still can't believe I'm leaving tomorrow. It is absolutely surreal and the whole experience is yet to hit me. 
Hellooo, India! Here I come!