After my rafting experience I jumped on a bus (literally on top) to Chitwan where Ranjan, my former guide in Chitwan was waiting for me on his blue motorbike. It was nice to see a friendly face again and we headed to his village, Gawai (about 7 km from the touristy part of Chitwan) making small talk along the way. I was going to be living with the Basnet family who consisted of four daughters, mom, and dad. The daughters are 16, 19, 20, and 21 years old which was nice to be around girls my own age and who were all anxious to take care of me. The village and this family has had only had 3 other volunteers before and I was the first female volunteer so this made for a nice experience. The whole village was excited about my arrival and time working and living there (even if it was just for a week).
Well I made a very “Jackie-like” entrance: as I was going to get off the motorbike with my two fairly large backpacks, I fell straight over. Here was the entire family (minus the dad who was away on work in another village) eagerly awaiting me and BAM man down. Not knowing what to say to lighten the moment appropriately, before getting up I just gave them a big smile and NAMASTE! And a hearty chuckle, but I think they were more worried than entertained.
The first thing they did was give me a homemade and itchy necklace made out of clovers and tika. My first impressions were that the home was extremely clean. I didn’t know if this was typical, but as the week wore on and I visited other homes I realized it wasn’t easy to keep a home as clean as they did and I was grateful for their sanitation habits. After this we went to my room on the top of the house, put my things down and sat on the roof talking and not talking. The family spoke very little English so I broke out in my 20 word vocabulary Nepali and they seemed a little impressed. When it got dark Ranjan and I ate dalbaat together in the kitchen.
So my schedule for the week was basically: wake up at 6:30 or 7am eat cookies and chiya (chai tea) and then I would usually read. (*Side note: during this week I was reading a GREAT book I would recommend to anyone called The Primate’s Memoire, it’s hilarious, entertaining, and intellectually stimulating.) Then I would have dalbaat around 9am before leaving to go to the school at 9:30 with the neighbor who is a teacher at the school. We would walk about five minutes into the “center” or Gawai to get on the school bus teaming with loud, energetic and hot bodies of around a hundred kids under the age of 12. It became my daily ritual of taking a deep breath before getting in.
We’d arrive at school and wait for the bus to go pick up the 100 or so kids in the other direction. Then the first period of about six periods would start for the day. I went with the neighbor, Bipana, for the first two periods to the nursery class. We gave them work in their notebooks and played some games with them every day. They were pretty cute, I have to admit. Then I would usually go with Mekal to the first grade class. The first graders were the loudest and most rambunctious class and I loathed going there but Mekal was great. She is 21 years old, like most of the teachers, spoke the best English and just seemed all around like a great woman who loved to learn and work even though she has already started a family.
The first graders were always up to something. One day before school started some boys were messing around and next thing you know a kid has blood gushing out of the back of his head. Two days later the same thing happens to another kid but the blood is coming from his forehead. Also, on my last day there was some rumor or news of cases of swine flu nearby so two first graders wore masks all day.
I quickly learned that kids are taught and punished very differently here. This is probably something I’ve seen in other countries but just never really took mental note of before. Basically teaching is all in the repetition since there are no materials other than a text books, notebooks, and blackboards to teach with. Also, all the text books were in English but there definitely wasn’t a single teacher in that school that spoke enough English to teach or understand what those books said. Hmmm. By the end I had a stab at all the classes (the older ones were the best ones) and taught many subjects, including evolution. The text I read basically said humans came from worms, I didn’t know what to do with this…but by the end of the class I was sure none of the students really understood what I was saying or what the book said, so maybe they don’t think we came from worms? Who knows.
Punishment was physical and included slapping kids with the teacher’s hand or by a stick. Now don’t get me wrong they weren’t beating these kids up (the kids could do that themselves) but sometimes I flinched a little. But that was the problem with the bigger classes was that I couldn’t get the kids to listen to me unless I threatened them in that way. (Which of course I didn’t do, but it made my job as teacher more difficult). I also learned that hitting was a sign of friendship (so let’s just mess with their little brains a little more…) as one morning walking to school I got a nice wack on the back from the neighbor riding her bike to a different school where she teaches.
So the first day of teaching was exhausting. I didn’t know what I had gotten myself into and Chitwan is a very hot place so this all takes it out of you. I got home around 4:30 pm and went straight to the neighbor’s house to be introduced to her twin sister and see every family photo ever printed and of course eat cookies and drink chiya. Then I realized there was a lot of noise coming from my house across the street. I looked out the window and there sat around 30 kids on my front porch.
I was told that I would be giving “English classes” to some kids in the morning and afternoon but I was in no way prepared to teach 30 kids ranging in ages from 4 to 12 English after just teaching for six hours myself. It was basically really embarrassing and I was quickly ushered into the kitchen to eat and drink something. Even after this I couldn’t think of what to do with 30 kids. I think at first I was more concerned that they actually learn something. But towards the end of the week, I realized it was more about having fun and laughing than learning English so we played a lot of “Jackie says” and did The Hokie Pokie a few times. I realized I wasn’t going to be able to really improve their English much in six days but just the cultural interaction was enough entertaining for them and me. And I without a doubt learned a lot more from them that week than they learned from me. There was more than one time that week I felt I knew what Peace Corps volunteers feel like.
One funny incident was at the school one day during break time. The principal started talking to me and asked me if I came from a village or city. I thought about this for a moment and choose village (which was my first mistake but limited Nepali and English skills made it necessary for me to pick one). He asked me then what was the main job source. I thought about this and chose agriculture since it is the main source of income in Gawai as well and somewhat true in Madison. He asked me what crops. I thought and responded: corn and ummm grapes for wine making. He got a kick out of this. He said, “Oh so you make bread from the corn and you drink wine?” I just said yes . Silence. The principal was thinking and then asked, “Do children drink wine too?” “No children don’t drink wine.” I responded “And we have other crops too and we get a lot of other food from the store.” I didn’t want to confuse the man too much. Everyone I met in Gawai was very interested in where I’m from, what I eat in the US, and the weather. I got use to answering these questions. But that short conversation with the principal was very entertaining for me and perhaps I got the slightly sarcastic edge from reading this book The Primate’s Memoire.
As the days went on I started getting to know my sisters a lot better. I really do love them all in different ways. The youngest, Nani, was so sweet, caring, beautiful, and spoke the best English. She even went to Ktm by herself in the middle of the week to take a test. The next youngest was Sarjana. She took the best care of me always making sure I was eating and comfortable. She was also my roommate. The next daughter I thought was the most beautiful. She didn’t say too much but she had a great sense of humor and I loved making her laugh by doing crazy “Jackie” things. The eldest was 21 years old, a mother, and widow. Her husband of two years died of throat cancer about six months ago when their daughter was around six months old. It’s a sad story but after he died she came back home to live, which her father is very happy about. The eldest was very quiet and, I thought, very skinny. She spoke the least English but was actually going to school in her own way: she got notes from classes and takes exams at exam times to finish up what I think to be high school. She told me she’s the oldest yet finishing the same level as her youngest sister.
The first night I was there I asked what her daughter’s name is. The sisters replied in Nepali: Her name is simple. Okay, I thought, so what is it? They replied, her name is simple. So what is it, I asked again…it went on like this for a while until I finally figured out her daughter’s name is Simple…or something that sounds a lot like “simple” in English.
I had another very memorable night with my sisters towards the end of my stay. We were all sitting on the roof late one night after dinner watching a storm off in the distance, it was beautiful and exciting. We talked about a lot of things including how I needed to come back when I was married and bring my husband for them to meet. The second oldest thought my husband’s name would be Buddha and my name should be Buddi. They all got the biggest crack out of that, we were all rolling around laughing. I also told them about the clans of Jon and Kate and 18 and Counting from TV. They were impressed. We laughed about a lot of things that night and really started to break the ice.
The father came home after me being there for about four days, so I was already use to the house full of women, and was thoroughly enjoying it. I quickly found out I had nothing to worry about with the father as he was just as gentle as the rest of them, very smart, and an all around very kind man. He told me about his job which really fascinated me and I wished I was staying a bit longer to possibly shadow his work. He has a government paying job as basically a sanitation educator to very very rural villages. He teaches villagers about sanitation and how to build latrines correctly and he supervises them as the community or family builds them. Very cool in my book.
As the week drew to an end and my departure from Gawai was approaching everyone became very solemn and dutifully asked me to stay longer. Also during my last two days there a lot of dancing was requested from me and I was the center of attention as the community gathered around to watch the white girl dance, (usually with one other brave soul who would join me) great. I did love the village very much and the family and all the people and children I met. I was really getting use to the schedule, the copious amounts of food, and feeling clean from just washing my hands, feet, and face. But it was time to move on so I did and it was very sad for everyone. Everyone at the school was sad as well. They gave me a little present and the principle asked me if I believe in God because he thought I was a gift from God (not my words, his). I got and continue to receive multiple text messages asking me how I am and where I am at in broken English from lots of different people at the school, in the community and in my family.
All in all, it was an excellent experience and I really believe in the community work Ranjan and my host dad are creating. They really want to see their community be healthy, educated, and strive to a greater future. It’s a beautiful dream and one I see a great possibility for as they continue to care and work hard. I offered to make a simple website for Ranjan so others could find out about volunteering and I think I’ll make flyers too that he can print out and hang up around Chitwan and other cities. It’s a little step in the process, but hopefully it will help for obtaining some of their aspirations in the future. I’ll post the address once it’s all created.
The next adventures are just as good, so stay tuned!
Jackie
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