Sunday: Today we had our first big adventure with the internet cafés of Dehra Dun, enjoying blasting Indian gangster music (there is no better way to describe this) and a shopkeeper who had no idea how to turn off the notification sounds on his desktop.
Aside from pining for my friends and families in Nantes/Minneapolis/Barcelona, things are going excellently. We are gorging our suntanned and blonde selves on tasty vegetarian delights (Dharani, you are goddess, thank you for the suggestion of breakfast foodsies) and reading fairy tale and physics books during our lazy afternoons.
Today for lunch we had sambar (spelling?) and a fascinating history of the school we are going to teach at starting tomorrow! Started in the 1980s by Mrs. Lalita Arya, our “Amaje”, or host grandmother extraordinaire, the program began by distributing milk for malnourished slum children. Things progressed to hiring residents with a little bit of education to teach under trees, and after the family returned to the United States, funds were set up to start a nursery and primary school.
Today KHEL charities educates (on a shoestring budget, no less) around 250 children, male and female, pre-k (SUCH CUTIE PIES) to the first graduating 8th grade class, regardless of religion (more on that later), skin color, family background and wealth. Located in what used to be the slum area of Dehra Dun, the surrounding area has seen a marked rise along with the school. Mrs. Arya is a strong force for good here in Dehradun, and in story after story (lunch was a prolonged affair today) she demonstrated both a rare and insightful wisdom, and a tenderness for women/humanity to give them the help in orde to help themselves.
We asked her what the effects so far of this school have been, and across the board the quality of life for those touched have risen. Girls are now permitted to speak in their homes, are respected by their parents and their opinions are even requested occasionally. They marry later, and can provide better lives for their families. As a proverb from the Punjab region of the country goes, “Educate a man, and you educate only him. Educate a woman and you educate a village.”
Another example she gave was the lack of religious violence. Riots can spread quickly and touch all regions, particularly large and diverse cities such as Dehra Dun. Since the school has been officially founded, there have been no religious conflicts within the school community and quick action is taken when other regions succumb. A Parent Council formed of representatives of all sects, branches, types and variances comes together in times like these, to reaffirm that they are united, a community devoted to their children, their betterment and their neighbors.
If you would like to snoop for yourselves, I suggest you do so here or send me/Jacqui questions, which we will gladly attempt to answer.
khelcharities.org/
It gives one heart to know such a wonderful organization, rooted and run by the communities which they serve, exists in this corner of the world. It will be a pleasure and an adventure to work with them.
ANSWER TO THE GEEZER MYSTERY: My grandfather, of the aerodrome fame, provided this answer to the puzzling question of just what would happen if we left the geezer point blasting.
“Hej Marielle,
The word "Geezer" in English and I guess Urdu/Hindi means a gas heater. Your message therefor meant " Don't leave the hot water running for 15 mins or you might have an explosion." P.S. geezer in cockney Argo/slang also means bloke/man.”
More News:
We have updated Jacqui’s nickname to “Chhoti Poilu”, which is a combo of hindi and french to mean “Hairy Little One.”
“Not because she is hairy, because we think it is a funny word.”
-Jacqui referring to herself in third person. An endearing habit of hers.
Now I’m probably going to get an addition a million times worse, along the lines of “Didi Degueulasse” or “Disgusting Older Sister.”
We are also very sleepy. This is not exactly the sort of news which will make the television, but it is very relevant to this blog post, as I will now go sleep. In Hindi they use the letter “Q” where we use the letter “Z” for the onomatopoeia for snoring.*
*This is a joke. Sorry if you got excited about this.
Monday: Today we started at the school, teaching a song and starting on the Tae Kwon Do lessons... Aside from forgetting korean counting after the number 7, things went smoothly. Shouting and gesticulating wildly always brings out the best in small children. Teaching correct posture and hand placement was less of a challenge than I expected, as most gestures are universal.
Getting TO school was an adventure and a half, as we took a Vikram (an autobus meets taxi meets autoricksaw), which costs about 5 rupees a piece, and then an autoricksaw to school. In between we walked in the middle of busy streets, like everyone else.
After school we had a delicious lunch (all veggie!) and tea with these syrupy delights which are pronounced vaguely like “jelly beans.” Spelling? We then decided the market/town was calling, and caught a vikram (love em!) down to the complicated, busy, congested adventureland. We made friends with a fabric dealer who sold me two hand dyed scarfs and gave us tea and Sprite while we waited. Such a doll. He also informed us that “I am your fabric man, I will make you dozens of beautiful clothes and we will be good friends.”
While waiting for the fabrics to dry, we also wandered into a shop and were accosted by an English speaking fashion expert. Thank god we speak french together, because it was overwhelming having onesies and jumpsuits thrown with great speed, accuracy and commentary. Some quotations...
“In fact, you are nothing special to me, I get many tourists in here who don’t know much about fashion and I love to help them, we have a warehouse upstairs where we can provide you with the latest stuff.”
“We do not sell clothes, we sell fashion.”
“Feel this fabric. Yes it is a copy. Yes it was made in Mumbai.”
“We have every fashion name here. WE HAVE ZARA. You know what Zara is? WE HAVE ZARA.”
Tomorrow, more teaching fun!
No comments:
Post a Comment