Time is flying

My time in India is almost over, and that seems INSANE to me.  In some ways, it feels like I have been in Kolkata forever and in other ways it is still so new.

The past week has been crazy busy.  I have been teaching tons of classes, including some classes 12th grade!  I really loved getting to interact with the older students.  The younger ones are so sweet, and I love their faces, but I will always prefer the content of older classes.  Mostly I got to teach Macbeth and "The Fly" to the "big" kids.  Love.  I have also been busy presenting and preparing for presentations for teachers and students alike.  Luckily I have been so well received at my school and elsewhere.  In fact, today I went to Modern High School to observe a fellow program participant, and the principal presented me with gifts (a mug and yearbook) before I left.  How amazing?!

Last night, I was invited to dinner at my assistant principal's house.  It was quite the affair.  She told me to go home and take a nap after school because we were going to party like they did in The Great Gatsby, and she wasn't lying.  It was quite the wild time.  My principal and his wife, the 3 office men (administrative assistants?), Ruby (the most senior teacher at my school) and her husband, Rupa (my primary mentor teacher) and her husband,  Arunima (the school magazine editor), Shevanti (the director of USIEF), my assistant principal and her husband, and I all shared a meal and lots of conversation.  My principal is quite the character and dominated the show by quizzing me on my knowledge of American presidents.  I am afraid that my lack of knowledge was a bit upsetting for him.  Perhaps I should visit some history classes when I return to the States.  Side note: Caitlin thinks my principal looks like an Indian Tom Jones.  There are a couple of pictures below, and you can judge for yourself.

There is really no way to describe the deference that those in authority are given in India.  Sir (this is what we call our principal) is revered by the staff.  Once when Debopriya and I were walking to class in another building, she excused herself for a moment.  I had no idea where she was going, but I paused in the middle of the assembly hall to wait for her.  It turns out that she had caught a glimpse of Sir from across the room and wanted to go wish him a good afternoon.  When she came back and told me that it is appropriate to "wish him" every time you see him, I was blown away.  Sure, we say hello and good morning in the States too...when it is convenient and we have accidentally made eye contact that makes impolite not to.  I have never walked out of my way just to stand in a line of other well-wishers who also happened to glimpse "the man" out of the corner of their eyes.  So far, nobody has accused me of rudeness for not "wishing" Sir when he is far away but visible.  I also sometimes forget to stand up when he enters a room.  I am working on remembering that one.  All these outward signs of respect have really made me think about equality and respect in my school at home and America at large.  In India, every time a teacher walks into the room, all the students stand and say "Good morning/afternoon, maam/sir."  EVERY TIME.  I find this really endearing at the beginning and end of the classes.  At the end they also stand and thank you for teaching them.  LOVE.  However, I find a little disruptive if another teacher, the principal, etc. walks into my class to observe.  Then they have to be greeted and sent off with standing and words.  Perhaps it is beneficial to create distance between teachers and students with these constant shows of respect, but at the same time is it too much distance and too much blind respect.  Sure, sometimes I complain about disrespectful students, but at the same time, I still want them to question everything I say and learn to assert their dissenting opinions.  I am not sure that there is a lot of emphasis on questioning authority in the Indian educational model, and I wonder about the dangers of the blind trust students put in their teachers. I am not saying that the teachers here are not worthy of respect and admiration, of course they are, but when students must value the opinion of the teacher, does it restrict their ability to think independently?  In a previous post, I talked about a lack of efficiency due to respect, but I am starting to suspect that the consequences of rigid rules of hierarchy might contribute to a wider range of problems.

Some students in my VIA class.  I adore these kids.

They love when I take "snaps."

One of my VIA boys will be playing his guitar during the Independence Day celebration on August 15th.  Too bad I have to miss it.  The younger kids are too cute.  The little boy in white just celebrated his birthday, and the tradition here is that the kids bring in sweets for everyone, so I enjoyed some treats to celebrate his life. 

Dance rehearsal in the library.  The little girl in the foreground is my FAVORITE.  Her name is Sweekriti, and she is in 4th grade. She wants to be an astronaut, and she is a gifted singer, dancer, and artist.  She reminds me of my sister Dani, and I told her so.  She was so touched that she made me multiple cards to express her appreciation.  On one of them, she drew me, my dress, and my braid perfectly.  The only thing I didn't understand was why my hair was blonde in the picture.  However, students often tell me that I am beautiful and that I look like a Barbie. I used to think that they were a little crazy, but now I am wondering if I really do look like Barbie.  I have definitely come to terms with the fact that I am beautiful here.  I think the sweat shows off all my best qualities.

The "Mission for a Better Kolkata" has many suggestions that I wish people would follow.  After looking at these signs, I spent 2 minutes counting the helmets of every biker (motorcycles only) that I saw driving past.  There were 31 with helmets and 17 without.  Oddly, while paying such close attention, I noticed some trends.  Usually when an entire family is on the bike, the father(driver) and mother (in the back) will have helmets, but the children who are squeezed in between them will not.  Usually if there are 3 men on a bike, none of them will have a helmet, but usually if someone is a alone, they will.  Often the men who are driving around their ladies will wear a helmet, but the woman (who is sitting side-saddle on the back because she is wearing a sari) will not wear a helmet.  Also, how funny is it that 3 men will share a motorcycle.  That would never happen in the USA.  People here just don't have the same issues with personal space that we have.  To date I have not seen a single person on a bicycle wearing a helmet although I would suspect they need them most.  Ditto for rickshaw "drivers."

Me with some of the VIA boys.

Me with some of the VIA girls.  

We tried to take a VIA class photo.  I will miss these dears.

Me with Rupa!  I need to get a better one.

Me during one of my two workshops with all 4 sections of class VI.

I am counting the words of the 6 word memoir that the little boy with the microphone wrote about a character from David Copperfield.

It is hard to know who to choose when 125 students raise their hands at the same time.

I love think, pair, share time.  

My boys were so excited to show me their "formation."  I didn't know that meant pyramid, but now I do.  

Me with my dear Sweekriti.

Me with Shika in the staff room.  She is a total sweet pea, and she grabs my arm everyday to beg me not to leave.  She thinks that she will miss me too much.  She also thinks that I haven't learned enough Bengali (her subject) to leave yet.  She is right on that account.  Next time I go abroad, I want to know the language.

Me with Mita.  She is one of the more senior teachers at the school, and she has been so kind to me.  Once during assembly, she told the children that I was a great person and that is what makes me a great teacher.  People in India are far too nice to me.  How will I ever feel so loved at home?

In the staff room with Joyshree (in red) and Kamalika (tan scarf).  Joyshree teaches grade 5 and some senior psychology classes.  Kamalika teaches English, and she kindly let me take over some of her senior classes.  She is also the sponsor for the debate club, the school paper coordinators, etc.  They are both darling.

Unfortunately, Sir and his wife (in the chairs) just lost their Great Dane, so Mr. Roy brought out his puppy to play with them.  

From left to right:  Shevanti, Mr. Roy, Mrs. Roy (my assistant principal), and Rupa's husband (I have no idea how to say or spell his name).  

Sir telling some stories.

Shevanti was leaving as the men returned from having a smoke on the balcony.  

I squeezed in an hour of pool time this morning.  I only got rained on 3 times in my hour.  I moved to these chairs from the loungers because they are covered by an umbrella.  

I went to visit Dan at Modern High School for Girls.  He was using some manipulatives to teach fractions to the girls.

Students solving some problems.

Dan helping the girls explain their work.

She knows that after 2 hours of the party there was only 1 and 1/8 a pizza left.  Yikes.

2/3rds of the classroom.  

Dan teaching some history.  

A Weekend in Kolkata

Since my school holds class on Saturday, I decided not to miss 2 days of school to go with the group to Agra.  My school gave me permission, but my own Catholic guilt held me back.  As amazing as it would be to see the Taj Mahal, I think I made the right choice.  This was my first real weekend in the city since I was so sick through the first weekend that I barely left the hotel except to go to work and we spent last weekend in Santiniketan.  Sarah S. stayed behind with me because she will be in India until August 15 and has plans to see the Taj later in her journey.

On Friday night we went out for veggie burgers, fries and beer.  It was my first beer since leaving the States, and I was so glad to have a taste of home.  Sadly we had to remove the lettuce and tomato from our burgers out of fear for our weak stomachs, but it was one of the best meals we have had in India.  Also, there were potatoes in the burger.  America should consider trying this.  After dinner we did a little bit of gift shopping (very little - I need to allot more time for this before the end is here), and then we went to a rooftop cafe, Blue and Beyond, to scope out the city from on high.

On Saturday, Sarah met me at my school after work, and we had one of our regular cab drivers take us to Mother House.  It was really amazing to see where Mother Teresa lived out most of her life.  There was such an air of peace and warmth surrounding the entire place, and it was wonderful to get to be in such a special place.  The only place photography is allowed is by her tomb, but there are websites that show her room and other places in the Loreto house.  We then had an early dinner at Trincas where we had the best Indian dish that we have tasted yet.  It was mushroom and mutter makhani with naan and paratha.  We were in heaven.  Also, there was a sweet band playing!  After a trip to a bookstore, we ventured home and had a drink at the hotel bar.  We had decided on the walk home to have a drink and take a dip in the pool before going to bed early, but while we were at the bar, one of our favorite hotel employees told us that we must come dancing with him and some other staff members.  We told him that we were not sure we felt safe going out alone, but he of course insisted that he was escort us there and back.  He took his duties quite seriously and made us feel perfectly comfortable all night.  We had a good time pretending that we understood how to dance to Hindi music, and I almost jumped out of my skin when they played a few remixed hits from home.  We are definitely going to make the rest of our group go back to the club next weekend.

Today we went to an inter-school music competition.  Sadly, I was so tired from last night that I slept through parts of the classical Indian competition and some of the instrumental contests, but I was wide awake for the Western vocal and Western band contests.  It was heaven!  One band sang "Telephone," and I could barely contain my excitement.  The teacher from Sarah's school who invited us to the event was thrilled with our enthusiasm.  Hopefully she was not offended by my earlier nap.  On our way back, we stopped at my favorite little cafe for a coffee milkshake from my favorite waiter Sam.  We are quite smitten with each other, and I would marry those coffee milkshakes.  Now I am off to the pool to do some school work as soon as my Kindle charges.

All in all, I think that the Agra crew should be jealous of us instead of the other way around, but we are milking the attention that the hotel staff is lavishing on us since we are alone for the weekend.  Durba is sending platters of sweets to our rooms tonight as a way of making up for not seeing the Taj with the others.  I LOVE INDIA!

The music competition!

Our drinks at the hotel bar.

We found the odd pond Janet told us about.  It is behind the Indian museum.

Mother Teresa's tomb.

A man with some random goats on Sudder Street.  These goats have now been there more than 24 hours.  Not sure what is going on.  

Along the road on the way home from work.  

New Market from atop Blue and Beyond.  This is where we do our shopping, and after seeing how giant it is, I don't feel bad about how lost I get in the market. 

Blue and Beyond.

Me with my assistant Principal, Ms. Roy and Kamalika, one of my mentor teachers.  

Mother Teresa's tomb. 

Some flowers that blew off the tomb because of the fans.  There was a sign in her bedroom that despite being directly above the kitchen, she would never accept a fan in her room.  

My day as a tourist

Since I don't work on Thursdays, I decided to spend the day being a tourist.  I visited the Victoria Memorial, The South Park Cemetery, and the Indian Museum.  Since Sarah M. also had the day off, she decided to join me.  

The Victoria Memorial strikes me as a bit odd.  In the middle of a bustling city where there is no room for anything, there is this VAST green space to celebrate...oppression?  It is just surreal how meticulously this symbol of British rule is maintained.  Unfortunately they do not allow photography inside because the architecture is amazing.  Also, funny fact, foriegners pay 150rs. for entry, but it is only 10rs. for citizens (same pricing for the Indian museum).  

The South Park Cemetery was surreal.  I didn't take many photos because a sign said "Photography Restricted."  We decided that restricted was different from prohibited, but I wanted to place some restrictions on myself.  Plus, we made an extra donation for the maintenance crew.  The cemetery opened in 1767 and the last tombs are dated 1830.  It was a cemetery for British settlers, and a disturbing amount are for young women, infants, and small children.  It is very clear that Kolkata was not a hospitable environment.  What I found most striking was the juxtaposition of life and death.  The cemetery was alive with gorgeous vegetation and wildlife, but the reminders of the brevity of life were everywhere.  Despite the restoration efforts, it is also clear that nothing lasts forever.  The corners of tombs are crumbling, and there is no way to stop the way time erases what was once important.  The entire scene reminded me of the poem "Ozymandias" by Shelly. 

The Indian Museum is under construction, so about half of the exhibits were closed.  Most of what was open was about different animals and some sculptures that had been dug up long ago.  There was also an Egyptian mummy which is apparently the highlight of an Indian museum.  I left my camera in my checked bag, but I will post some pictures once the Sarahs send me theirs.  I was mostly thrilled by watching the construction efforts.  The men were hanging off scaffolding without shoes or helmets or harnesses.  This would not fly in the U.S.  I also spent a large portion of the time posing like various statues, lampposts, etc.  This entertains my friends endlessly.  

The Victoria Memorial from the front gate.

This is one of 2 lions that frame the front gate of the Victoria Memorial.  It is odd how many lions exist throughout the city as a stamp of British ownership.

The front gate.

Sarah and I asked a man to take our picture, but he wanted his family to be in it too.

The Victoria Memorial x2. 

Apparently, it is common for young couples to sneak away to public places to make-out since they cannot do this near their parents.  Rumor has it that the Botanical Gardens become the hotspot on Mondays when the V. Memorial is closed.

This bold couple made out in front of a statue.  I wonder what this nameless Brit would think of that.  

More canoodlers.  I was being a total creep.

The backside of the memorial with the statue of Edward.

My bench break.

Edward from Victoria's perspective.

St. Paul's Cathedral is visible from the left side of the Memorial.

The reflection in a different pond.

The statue of the man Victoria put in charge.  I forget his name.

I just liked this fence and some sort of wheel.  I don't understand its importance.

Proof that Packers fans are everywhere.  I thought Meggie would like this.

For some reason I started posing for pics in the Katie Brunner style. 

Sarah and I finally managed to get a photo alone in front of Victoria.  Everyone who took photos of us also made us pose with them.  This is an odd thing to me as I think that they should realize that I am not a celebrity.

A shot of the cemetery.

Sarah in the cemetery.

A bike of one of the maintenance men at the cemetery.  For some reason, I was in love with this bike.

Along the front edge of the cemetery there are huts where people live.  I loved the laundry hanging outside the home in the cemetery walls.  Signs of life and progress were everywhere.