Post-India Reflections

A year ago today, I arrived in India, exhausted and relieved to have finally made it, especially after missing my first flight.  Two and a half months ago I returned to the United States and while settling into my American life,  I've reflected a lot on my nine months of living and teaching in a foreign land and thought what better way to wrap up this blog than by sharing those reflections here.

THINGS I LEARNED:

Always try.  Whenever asked to perform or give a speech in America, I could expect to be notified at least a month in advance, usually more.  In India, I was lucky to get a week's notice.  For someone who has suffered from stage fright nearly all her life, this was a big hurdle to get over.  My initial reaction to requests for me to dance or give a speech or (even worse) sing was to immediately see the situation as impossible in the amount of time given.  How could I possibly whip something together in less than a week?!?!  However, I couldn't just turn down their requests and as a guest at the school, wanted to give back as much as possible.  So, I gave a hesitant yes, still thought it was an impossible situation, and...succeeded...every time.  After my speech during Indian Independence Day, students were eager to learn more about American Independence Day; after my attempt at giving a speech in Hindi, teachers told me how inspiring it was to hear me try to speak their native language, mistakes and all; after my bhangra dance for Children's Day, I ignored the pain emanating from the popped blisters on my feet and performed it a second time at their request. Through these experiences, I learned to push back my self-defeating thoughts, fears of failure, and need for perfection and to refocus that energy into just getting the job done.  

Flexibility.  No matter how many hours I put into lesson or trip planning, I was always greeted with something unexpected.  In my pre-India life, I spent so much energy trying to imagine all the possible outcomes of a situation so I would never be caught unaware.  India taught me to let go a little, to plan sufficiently but to also take advantage of and enjoy those little surprises that can never be planned.  I gained confidence that even if something doesn't go according to plan, things will work out and even I, a recovering over-planner extraoidinaire, can improvise a solution.

Patience.  When I first arrived in India, it was very easy to get frustrated when things didn't happen as I wanted or as quickly as I would have liked, a frustration that was admittedly due mainly to my unfamiliarity with how things worked in India.  I was trying to fit this square-peg-new-life into the round-hole-old-life I left.  While I always thought I was patient, I soon saw that the 24/7 instant access culture of America affected me more than I thought.  I learned to accept and expect that things were just going to take longer and in those moments when I began to feel frustration creeping up on me (for example, when visiting the copy center for the third time, the previous two times failing due to a power outage and an unexpected 2-hour closing) I breathed through the frustration rather than wasting energy being upset.  Afterall, there's no use getting worked up about something you can't change.

Focus. When reading about India in preparation for my trip, the one phrase used to describe it more than any other was "sensory overload" and after arriving, I could see why.  In the main areas of the city, my ears were bombarded with vendors trying to lure me to their stalls; the seemingly non-stop honking of cars, busses, and autorickshaws; and the frequent calling out of stops by bus conductors and auto drivers.  My eyes were constantly on the lookout for unmarked construction sights, uneven pavement, and the best frogger-like path to take across the street.  I could encounter a smell as sweet as fresh mangos in one step and in the next, be taken off guard by the unmistakable odor of urine. For this ultra-introvert, just a 15 minute walk could sap me of all my energy, especially when adding to the heat and humidity to all the things mentioned above.  Until, that is, I adapted.  I learned to tune out all but the most important sensory inputs and with time, began noticing previously invisible details of my surroundings.  Walking around the city became a practice in meditation and by the end of my nine months, I found not only that I was no longer weighed down by the activity around me, I was energized by it.

THINGS I'LL MISS:

• All the warm, supportive, and hilarious teachers at my school.  I didn't always understand their Bangla/Hindi gabbing but I enjoyed it nonetheless.
• Goats wearing scarves and shirts to stay warm in the chilly winter air.
• My pholwalla (fruit seller), sobjiwalla (vegetable seller), and my go-to computer print-out guy who were always so happy to see me, so patient with my Bangla, and so willing to help.
• When my attempts at speaking the local language was greated with fits of good-natured giggles...by large, hairy, grown men.
• STREET FOOD!  Especially kathi rolls, puchka, and padpi puri.
• Listening to the students recite the morning prayer, pledge, and sing the national anthem.
• When strangers would come up to me to ask where I was from and after receiving their answer, say thank you and promptly walk away.
• Being able to walk 2 minutes down the street to do all my produce and egg shopping or to get my street food fix.
• Party autos, the auto rickshaws that are adorned in blinking lights, mirrors and blast anything from techno music to old time Bollywood hits.
• Our neighborhood street dogs who would chase cars that drove off with us and who would sometimes escort me down the street on my way to school.
• The kindness of the people, always eager to help a vistor find her way.
• The random and hilarious comments made by my students.  "You are looking damn gorgeous today, Mam" was one of my favorites not because of the compliment but because of the choice of words by a sixth grader.
• Cha! Not to be confused with ah-cha-cha. (Translation: Tea! Not to be confused with the word that means "good" and that our landlord would endlessly repeat when he couldn't understand what we were saying and didn't want to admit it.)
• The phrase, "You do one thing..." that was usually followed by a string of seemingly endless instructions.
• Going into a sari shop and having the clothes literally thrown at me.  At first I felt bad because of all the folding that would be required afterwards but later, really appreciated being able to see the variety of materials so quickly. Plus, it created work for someone which is needed in a city of around 4.5 million, or 14 million if you include suburbs.
• Those moments in Bangla class when all our brains would cease functioning at the same time which would (usually) result in fits of laughter and an utterly confused look on Proshenjit-da's face.  
• The days when our caretaker, Robin, would burst into the apartment and rather than spend 15 minutes trying to explain why he was there through our broken Bangla and his broken English, would just start doing quizzical things.  Case in point: when he, without a word, went through Sarah's room, out onto the balcony, climbed over to our neighbor's balcony, and started transferring their plants to our side. Apparently, they were on vacation and he needed to water their plants but didn't have a key to their place.
• And finally...the fellow ETAs who became my family abroad - Irene, Julie, Sarah, and Zoe - and our papa bear, Sumanta.  It wouldn't have been the same, or nearly as entertaining, without them!  

A (Bitter) Sweet Send-Off

On February 29th, I got up earlier than usual to give myself extra time to wrap the new sari I bought especially for my last day of school. As I was wrapping and then rewrapping and then rewrapping again the 9 yards of silk, I found myself somewhat dreading the day that lay before me. Goodbyes are never easy and when you have taught 480 students over the course of seven months, students who had fought for your attention every one of those days, it's goodbyes to the extreme. Adding to that goodbyes to the teachers with whom I had become very close and who supported me every step of the way, well, let's just say my emotional cup overfloweth. Once I arrived, I was taken aback and very humbled by the reception I received as after morning assembly, my students gave me a send-off I'll never forget: three dances performed beautifully by girls in classes 7 and 8; a heartfelt poem and reading; a skit titled A Day in the Life of Pamela Mam that concluded with all of class 8 singing Christmas is Coming, a song I taught them in December; and a rendition of Leaving on a Jetplane that brought tears to my eyes. Afterwards, I couldn't walk the halls without being swarmed by students with cards, gifts, kind words, and songs. Even a group of girls from class 9, a class I never taught, gave me a card to wish me well. It was a hurricane of activity and then, at 11:15, the bell rang, the students lined up, and left the school for home. Then. Silence. I went back to the staff room where I was able to gather my thoughts a little before the next wave of send-offs began. You see, in addition to the students, the teachers had been working on performances of their own. Simply spending time with these teachers and friends, to see them laughing, to have them attempt to teach me some dance moves, was more special to me than the actual, programmed send-off. Their support and friendship meant so much to me over the seven months I taught at the school so to see them devoting so much time to me, yet again, was truly humbling.

Happy Holidays!

As the American holiday season comes to a close, I thought what better time to reflect on all holidays, both American and Indian, I've experienced in India so far. I’ll post links to more photographs shortly but it will take a while to upload them all due to 1) my slow internet connection and 2) my excessive picture taking :-)

DURGA PUJA
Quick Facts: A six-day Hindu festival that was celebrated October 1-6, 2011 (the dates are based on the Hindu calendar so they vary each year).  It is a time to celebrate the goddess Durga returning home with her children and to celebrate good (Durga) conquering evil (the demon Mahishasur).

Important Terms:

Sarah, Me, and Julie performing puja

• Vahana: the vehicle or mount or a deity, usually in the form of an animal or mythical being
• Pandal: a temporary temple that houses Maa Durga and her children and where the pujas are held
• Puja: worship
• Maa Durga, or Mother Durga, is the mother of the universe who is a protector, destructor, and creator. She has three yes and is depicted with 8 or 10 arms which hold the following objects: a conch shell, bow and arrow, lightning bolt, half-opened lotus, discus, sword, and trident. Her vahana is a lion which represents power, will, and determination.

A contemporary Maa Durga idol

Ganesh, the elephant-diety and one of Maa Durga’s children, is the god of success and helps his devotees overcome obstacles. Some also worship him as the god of education, knowledge, wisdom and wealth. Ganesh’s vahana is a mouse which symbolizes humility.

Laxshmi, one of Maa Durga’s children, is the goddess of wealth and prosperity. She has four arms and is depicted holding or atop a lotus which symbolizes purity, fertility, and beauty. In Bengal, her vahana is the owl, warning her devotees against the dangers of being blinded by the wealth she provides.

Saraswati, one of Durga’s children, is the goddess of wisdom, art, music, and learning. She has four arms in which she holds a book, a crystal rosary, a pot of holy water, and a stringed instrument called a veena. Her vahana is a swan which represents using one’s knowledge for the good of the world rather than personal gain.

Kartik, or Kartikeya, is one of Durga’s children and a war god created to destroy the demons. He has six heads and carries a spear in one hand while blessing devotees with the other. His vahana is a peacock gripping a serpant which represents overcoming one’s ego.

Durga Puja, the biggest and most important festival in West Bengal, was something I had been hearing about since arriving in Kolkata but until I experienced it, could not fully understand what makes it so magical. All I knew was that people would wear their finest dresses, do something called "pandal hopping," and that the already crowded streets of Kolkata would be bursting at the seams as visitors flocked to the city to experience the festival for themselves. As Durga Puja, or Pujo, grew near, even someone as naïve as me could feel the excitement in the air as mysterious structures and light displays started appearing all over the city.

Me and the record-breaking idol

My initiation to Pujo began at 4am on Tuesday, September 27 when I was startled awake to something that sounded like canon-fire. I assumed some construction workers were getting an early start to the day and cursed them for disturbing my slumber. It wasn’t until speaking with a teacher later that day that I learned the 4am “bombs” mark Mahalaya, the countdown to Maa Durga’s arrival. Well, if it’s for Maa Durga, I suppose it’s alright. Although my introduction to the festival didn’t start off on exactly the right foot, everything went uphill from there. While on a tour that wasarranged by a Fulbright alum from Kolkata and exploring later on my own, I was constantly awed by the pandals I saw. One recreated a Buddhist temple, another, a Kashmiri landscape, and another, a peacock that rivaled the size of the buildings around it. There was even one in my neighborhood that boasted the biggest Durga idol ever at 52 feet high. The pandals looked like stone or wood structures from a distance but close up, you could see that most were constructed of bamboo poles wrapped in cloth and expertly painted. Styrofoam embellishments were often used and on the inside, each pandal included a chandelier as big as physics and finances would allow.More elaborate pandals used fiber glass, high-quality wood, cement, and recycled glass to create the final masterpiece. The pandals and the idols inside them were truly works of art. It wasn’t until evening, or technically, early morning, that I felt the true magic of Pujo.

A traditional idol with a glittering chandelier

When the sun went down, the city was enveloped by twinkling lights; lights forming canopies over the streets, lights cascading from buildings, and lights on animated displays that formed arches to the pandals. Even at 2am, the streets were full of people and I found that I was no longer an individual but instead, part of a pandal-hopping blob. Rather than fight the crowd, I let myself be gently led from one pandal to another and was never disappointed by where the blob took me. The energy was palpable and even this girl who likes her sleep more than her chocolate (you heard me!) wished she could stay out all night. After a full 13 hours of pandal hopping, I felt like I finally understood the festival that was once such an enigma to me and during the immersion of the idols in the Hoogley River two days later, couldn’t help but feel a little sad to see Maa Durga go, even knowing aashchhe bochhor abar hobe, it will happen again next year.

The Fulbright Tour

DIWALI or DEEPAUVALI
Quick Facts: A five-day Hindu festival, literally meaning "string of lights," that was celebrated October 24-28, 2011 (the dates are based on the Hindu calendar so they vary each year).  It is a time to celebrate good (Lord Krishna and Sathyabhama) conquering evil (the demon Naraka); to worship Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth and prosperity; to celebrate Bhai Dooj, a time when sisters invite their brothers to their home; and to worship the goddess Kali (this is actually a part of Kali Puja which is prevalent in West Bengal and coincides with Diwali/Lakshmi Puja).

If I could some up Diwali in one word that word would be loud, for although Diwali is the Festival of Lights, it also is a time to ward off evil and what better way to do so than to set off as many firecrackers as possible! Even my students got into the act. Starting a week before the festival, the occasional bomb would go off during school. When I first heard the blast, as with Durga Puja, I again attributed it to construction but my students set me straight and said, “Bomb, Mam, bomb!” I soon learned that the word bomb does not carry quite the same concern here as it is in the US and basically means a really loud, booming firecracker.

Titli, Me, and Sarah celebrating Diwali

 The bombs became more frequent as the week drew on until Diwali finally arrived. That’s when the real noise began. Families from all over the neighborhood would set off fireworks and firecrackers in the middle of the street, and not just sparklers and bottle caps, but actual fireworks. At first, Sarah and I were excited at all the activity but once the fireworks started exploding right outside our 5th floor apartment window and smoke started pouring into our rooms, we shut the windows and ran for cover. While we didn’t partake in the setting off of explosives that day, we did light diyas or deepas, small lamps used to welcome the goddess Lakshmi into one’s home, who brings with her prosperity for the coming year. Because everyone wants Lakshmi to visit, the more lights and candles one uses, the more likely Lakshmi will notice one’s house, creating a friendly competition which explains why Diwali is known as the Festival of Lights. A couple
of days later, we went to our friend Titli’s house for her family’s celebration of Bhai Dooj.
 On this day, sisters welcome their brothers into their homes for an exchange of blessings, gifts, and sweets. In Titli’s family, this was extended to her cousins and a close family friend as well. After the blessings were given, the gifts exchanged, and the sweets were eaten, we went to the rooftop to light some sparklers while the last of the dinner preparations were being made. While I thoroughly enjoyed the community atmosphere of Durga Puja, the more intimate family celebrations of Diwali were memorable for a different reason: they reminded me of home.

HALLOWEEN

Halloween is not celebrated in India; however, it is not unknown either. While the history of the holiday may be a mystery, through the globalizing mediums of television and movies, most of my students had heard of

No words needed!

trick-or-treating and wearing costumes and all were familiar with Halloween figures such as vampires and ghosts. In fact, in my experience their enthusiasm for all-things-scary exceeds that of the average American kid. Halloween being the first American holiday we would miss since arriving in India (not counting Independence Day which, due to the magic of time zones, vanished while I was somewhere over the Atlantic), the other ETAs and I couldn’t let it go by uncelebrated. In fact, being outside of America made the
need to acknowledge it seem all the more important. So, between decorations sent to us by our families and homemade ones we pieced together with materials here, we threw a good ol’ fashioned Halloween party; Julie, whose knack for decorating could give Martha Stewart a run for her money, made popcorn balls, transformed Diwali lights into Halloween lights by the addition of tissue paper ghosts, and expertly crafted a string of newspaper bats; we plastered orange construction pumpkins everywhere and, much to the confusion of the vegetable sellers, found the roundest, largest, orangest pumpkins to carve into Jack O’ Lanterns; finally, because it’s obligatory and just plain fun, we fashioned costumes out of whatever materials we could find – Julie was a zookeeper, Sarah was a coconut tree, Irene was Snookie from Jersey Shore, Zoe was Medusa, and I was a deviled egg. Once the decorations were done, we snacked on candy corn, roasted pumpkin seeds, popcorn balls, and Dominos pizza while watching the Halloweeniest movie that was on TV that night, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. That little touch of American culture at the 3-month mark did our souls good!

THANKSGIVING

Unlike Halloween, none of my students had a clue about what Thanksgiving is or how it is celebrated so I did a simple listening exercise with them to introduce them this American holiday and followed it with one of

Federica, Angela, and Julie Thanksgiving-it up!

 the most important Thanksgiving activities, making hand turkeys and writing one thing for which you are thankful. Julie, Sarah and I decided to host Thanksgiving for all the Fulbrighters in the area along with a couple of other Americans (and one visiting Italian friend) working or researching in Kolkata. While we didn’t have a turkey, we did manage a roasted chicken thanks to a friend who has an oven in her apartment (a rarity around here), several different green bean casseroles, sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes, stuffing, stuffed pumpkins, homemade bread, and for desert, key lime pie. With around 15 people over, it reminded me of Thanksgivings back home and Angela’s surprise activity of…wait for it…HAND TURKEYS made the day all the more fun. There’s nothing like channeling your inner child to put you into a festive mood!

CHRISTMAS

It was my first Christmas away from home this year so I was thrilled when my friend Alexis decided to visit me over the holidays, especially because all of my Kolkata friends were going to be away on vacation. On Christmas Eve, we did what many people in the city do: we visited St. Paul’s Cathedral for the Christmas 

Waiting in line at St. Paul's

Eve service which is attended by hundreds of people from various religions. Santa hats kept the heads of many a Kolkatan warm as we stood in line to enter the cathedral. The crowds are so large for this service that only a small percentage of people can actually sit in the church. The rest of the people, the two of us included, enter in small batches, stand at the back for a short time, and then exit so another group can catch their glimpse of the candlelight service. The most memorable part of the night happened when I was waiting outside for Alexis to exit. All of the sudden, the crowd started cheering as if

Santa hats!

 it were New Year’s Eve. Then I realized the reason why: the clock had struck midnight and it was officially Christmas. It was such a joyous way to celebrate! What impressed me most about Christmas in India is that people seemed to wish others a Merry Christmas regardless of their religion. While I don’t consider myself Christian and celebrate Christmas as a season of giving and goodwill, not as the birth of Jesus, in the US, I’m highly aware of to whom I am wishing a Merry Christmas. I know if I were in the shoes of someone who doesn’t celebrate the holiday, I might be more than a
bit annoyed with the month-long bombardment of all things Christmas. Here, however, things are much
different; when I left school on the 22nd, I was greeted again and again with "Merry Christmas" by Hindu,

Stars decorating a church in Fort Kochi, Kerala

Christian, Muslim, and Buddhist students; a Sikh man I met on a bus in Kerala and my Hindu friend Raghu both make it a point to attend church on Christmas; and in Kerala (where Alexis and I where December 26th-31st), mangers, trees, and elaborate paper stars decorate houses of Christians and non-Christians alike. Perhaps this is due to Christians being in the minority since religious tension definitely does exist in India, but at least this one time, for this one holiday, it was nice to experience not just religious tolerance, but religious inclusiveness.

Children's Day Performance

My apologies for being so negligent with this blog. My only excuse is that there have been so many things happening that I've been overwhelmed by how much I need to post! So, to come will be postings on Durga Puja, Diwali, Halloween, a trip to Taki, and my birthday (whew!) but for now, I thought you'd all like to see the performance I did for Children's Day at my school. While Teachers' Day is celebrated on the birthday of India's second president, Children's Day is celebrated on the birthday (November 14) of India's first prime minister, Jawaharlal Nehru. I was told by one of the teachers that the kids were expecting me to perform something so I thought I'd give them what they've been asking for from the first day, a dance. The muses were smiling upon me because almost instantly, I could hear the music I wanted to dance to in my head: a mash up of the Bhangra song, Aye Jatt, the latest Bollywood hit, Chammak Challo, and the song my students have requested me to sing the most, Justin Bieber's Baby. I was the opening act for the day's performances and even though there were several places where my mind failed and improvisation was necessary, the reaction of the student's was even better than imagined. They clapped along, sang along, and cheered when they noticed I incorporated the signature Chammak Challo move into my Bhangra choreography. For the rest of the day, whenever I left the sanctity of the teachers' corner, I was swarmed by kids saying how much they liked the dance, sentiments that made the newly opened blisters on my feet well worth it :-)

Two Months of Travel

I finally uploaded my photos, gathered my thoughts, and here it is, the long awaited post about my recent travels.

Puri, Orissa - August 20-21

Our first trip out of Kolkata was to the beach town Puri in Orissa, the state southwest of West Bengal. We took a night train but because we purchased the tickets last minute, Sarah and I ended up sharing a bunk which meant sleeping sitting up all night. Surprisingly, it wasn't as uncomfortable as I thought it would be! Once arriving in Puri, we checked into our hostel and headed straight for the beach. The life guards there wear white, dunce-cap-like hats and hold hands with "swimmers" as the waves crash upon them to make sure they don't drown. I didn't venture into the bay but instead spent my time sipping coconut water safely in the shade.

The next day we visited the 700 year old Konark Sun Temple which was so much more than the erotic carvings for which it's known; there were carvings of dances from all over India, influences from countries in Africa and Asia, and depictions of everyday life. While the temple was obviously the main attraction, at times we couldn't help but feel like we were a close second, with people asking us for photos at every turn or simply snapping away without asking for permission. It's a position we often find ourselves in and our answer completely depends on the situation. In this case, we turned down everyone who asked because had we said yes, we would have been swarmed. In other situations, though, when there are less people around, we're more likely to say yes. Another factor is who's doing the asking; being asked by a teenage boy or single adult male is completely different than being asked by a child or family.

After Konark, we went shopping for crafts at a nearby town and then at Raghurajpur, an artisan village. When we drove up to the village, every shop owner/artist came out of his store beckoning us to visit. The process was repeated whenever we exited a shop. With 10-15 shops, it was a bit overwhelming. The art form most prevalent in this community is patachitra, an extremely detailed and intricate style of painting. Each artist would show us hundreds of pieces, each one different from the other which made it incredibly difficult to choose. I could have easily bought ten but was somehow able to limit myself to three :-)

For more pictures, click here

Bishnupur, West Bengal - August 28-29

Our second trip was arranged and led by our Bangla teacher, Protimadi. We visited Bishnupur, a temple city west of Kolkata. The two-day trip included visits to nine temples, one canon, two artisan villages, and a sari factory. One memorable moment happened at Radhashtan Temple. We had just finished looking around and were sipping tea in the car when all of the sudden, I saw about five monkeys jump seemingly from nowhere onto the temple wall. I screamed, "Monkeys!!!" and we hurried out to see them. However, these monkeys were huge and they kept coming. I could hear their strength as they leapt over the rooftops and have to admit that even I, someone who has always liked my primate cousins, was a bit scared.

The first village we visited was Dighna where they make brass sculptures called dokra. The artisans first sculpt the figures in wax, making a mold onto which they place the brass. When we visited, they were busy making some cute, fist-sized owls. When we were done with our purchases there, we then went to a terracotta artisan village called Panchmura where the artist was sculpting huge figures in preparation for the upcoming Durga Puja (more on that later!).

Lastly, we visited a sari shop where we saw the inner workings of the factory. To weave the designs, they use cards with wholes in them, reminding me of the old punch cards for computers that, while I've never seen, have been told once existed ;-) It was a very complicated system that I couldn't wrap my mind around and made me appreciate even more the Bishnupuri sari I ended up buying.

For more pictures, click here

Himachal Pradesh - September 10-19

Our longest trip so far was to Himachal Pradesh, the second most northern state in the country. We began by taking a night bus from Delhi to Manali but, due to a landslide, our bus didn't make it to our destination. After being stuck for five hours on the outskirts of a town, the family on whose porch we sough refuge from the sun kindly called a cab for us and our new friend from France. When we finally arrived at Mountain Dew Guesthouse, our first task was to find breakfast, which we did at the Moon Dance Restaurant. We then visited a tourist office to arrange a three day trek in the Chandrakhani pass of the Himalayas and after doing that, visited some temples and sipped some tea.

The next day, we left for our trek and after a long, muddy, winding road, we piled out of the truck only to look up and see two men had been riding on top the entire time along with our supplies! They were two of the three Nepali supermen whom carried our tents and food. Even though they were stick thin, carried two to three times the weight we carried and had less than ideal footwear (one was in flip flops), they hiked at least twice as fast as us. The first day was 2 1/2 hours of hiking straight up and the entire time I was regretting the decision to go. While I was in shape before leaving for India, the prevalence of sweets and energy-sapping humidity in Kolkata have left me soft after three months. Needless to say, I was relieved when we reached camp, even if it was overrun by cows by the end of the night.

The second day of the trek, we started off with a morning stretch and a huge breakfast (I was never hungry on the three day journey!). This was the most rewarding of the days, hiking in the clouds, seeing horses along the way, and having tea in the hut of a strikingly beautiful young couple and their son.

Day three was by far the hardest of the days. After about an hour hike to the peak of our trek, we had to start the journey down, a journey my legs were definitely not up for. By lunch time, I had two jello sticks supporting my weight and so often resorted to simply sitting down and sliding. Being so close to the end also made it mentally difficult because we were never quiet as close as it seemed. The trail took us through Malana, an isolated village whose inhabitants considers non-Malanas untouchable and therefore have many rules for non-Malana visitors, such as no touching buildings or people. When we finally ended our hike, words cannot describe the relief I felt, both physical and mental!

Our next leg of the journey was another night bus, this time to Mcleodganj, the home of the Dalai Lama in exile. While not a particularly hilly place, our trek caught up to us and every step we came to in this Tibetan flavored town might as well have been Mt. Everest. The icing on the top of the cake was when Julie and I went to a meditation class. The teacher met us near his place so he could show us the way which ended up being 10-15 minutes of climbing stairs, and I'm not exaggerating. Sore muscles aside, Mcleodganj was an amazing place that had a completely different feel than any other place we've visited so far. It rained just about every day we were there which was actually quiet welcome because that, along with the cold air, gave me the autumn I've been missing.

Lastly, we took yet another night bus to Shimla, a hill station and once winter home of the British Raj. Let me emphasize "hill." The town recreated our trek in the Himalayas so our poor legs did not get any rest. Because I was only there for one day and was trying to give my legs as much rest as possible, I didn't see the huge Hanuman (the monkey god) statue that overlooks the town and just tried to relax a bit. And it worked! By the time I got back to Kolkata, my legs were recovered and I didn't have to hobble into class the next day :-)

For more pictures, click here

Teachers' Day

First of all, apologies for my recent absence. I've been trying to recover from a virus that my doctor determined was cause by being bitten from a critter very common in West Bengal...the travel bug. It probably happened when I escaped to the beaches of Puri three weeks ago and it only got worse when, the next week, I visited the temples of Bishnupur. I've been told that fresh, mountain air might cure me so now I'm off to Himachal Pradesh for the next 10 days. But have no fear, this is not a lethal disease. It merely makes it very difficult to sit in front of the computer, sorting through hundreds of photos, deciding which adventures to share, especially when what little energy I do have has to go into lesson planning for the 500 students I see every week...and into planning my next trip :-)

I promise to blog about my trips soon but for now, I'd like to share the highlight of my week, Teachers' Day. Celebrated on September 5 in honor of Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishna, an educator and the second president of India, it's a day for students to honor and show thanks for their teachers. At my school, we had a special assembly in the morning where different student groups sang songs and performed dances and where the 12th grade students, dressed in sarees and suits as opposed to their normal blue and white uniforms, were given the responsibility to teach the younger students for the day.

When the assembly was over, I went to the staff lounge with the rest of the teachers and was soon greeted by student after student bearing cards, flowers and pens. Some of the students touched my feet out which I found very endearing but, not having experienced that before, wasn't sure how to respond. While I observed other teachers touching the childrens' heads, whenever I tried to do so, I could never get the timing right; I would either inadvertently "bless" them with way too much force or I would miss them completely. Ah the joys of learning the social etiquette of a new culture! I'm sure by the end of my time here, though, I'll find the blessed sweet spot.

After the parade of gifts, I went to one of my 8th grade classes for a special program they put together for all of their teachers. They had singing, a skit, a harmonium and guitar performance, a dance performance, and of course, food. After that, there was more food in the staff lounge: luchi (a fried bread also known as puri), a spicy potato dish, and mishti (sweets). The afternoon was taken up with a cricket match between the 12th grade and a team made up of both 11th graders and teachers. I watched the game with a group of my students and we had so much fun! I taught them a song I learned in Campfire (Wadaliacha) they taught me the first words of the Indian national anthem (Jana gana mana adhinayaka jaya he was all I could manage), we told each other jokes, and basically paid no attention whatsoever to the game. Well, until the ball came flying toward us, that is. Then we looked up for a couple of seconds before going back to chatting. While I would have liked to cheer on my friends on the field, I was so glad to finally get to talk to my students on a more personal level. It was a great end to a great Teachers' Day.

The Wait Is Over

I remember the night very clearly. It was a Sunday in September and I was talking on the phone to my friend Reshama. We were both feeling the need to escape at that particular point in time and she threw out the idea that we go to India for a couple of months. While the suggestion seemed too spontaneous for this practical Pam, part of it spoke to me and as oon as we hung up I decided to see if Fulbright had any programs in India (I had looked on their sight in the past for programs in Spanish-speaking countries but my language skills weren’t quite at the level that was required). That’s when I happened upon the English Teaching Assistantship and with each sentence I read, my heart beat a bit faster; my experiences and future goals coincided almost perfectly with their requirements. I spent the next five weeks writing essays, gathering transcripts, and requesting references. On October 18, 2010 I hit the send button and the waiting began. On August 1, 2011 I stepped through the gates of Kendriya Vidyalaya, Salt Lake No.2 as an English Teaching Assistant and the waiting was over.

My eight months at Kendriya Vidyalaya, Salt Lake No. 2 started quiet memorably at the school’s morning assembly. Besides the usual announcements, singing of the national anthem, and a prayer, there was also a special section welcoming me to the school; an adorable four or five year old girl, dressed in yellow and adorned with gold, presented me with a yellow rose before performing a classical Indian dance; a girl who was probably around 12 years old welcomed me to the school with an eloquent (and memorized!) speech; the principal presented me with a copy of Rabindranath Tagore’s Gitanjali; and, the most touching part for me was when one of their highly talented music students sang Tagore’s Ami Chini Go Chini, whose first two lines, roughly translated, are I know you, I so know you, O lady of the foreign land. Needless to say, the first 25 minutes of school made quite an impression.

There are so many stories and reflections I could share about my first two weeks at the school but I’ll just give some highlights:

Friendship Day: While Friendship Day is officially the first Sunday of August, it seemed to be a weeklong event at my school. I received my first friendship band on August 2 and my last on August 8. In all, I racked up a grand total of 7 bracelets plus one cup of Fanta. Not too bad! When I asked one of the teachers where Friendship Day came from, she said the U.S. but, having never heard of it, decided to turn to my trusty pal, Wikipedia. And sure enough, it was started in the U.S. by none other than Hallmark! That’s right, folks. It’s a Hallmark holiday. It only lasted about twenty years in the States, from 1919 to the 1940s, but now it’s very popular all throughout Asia and South America.

Tiffin Time: I made quite a stir my second day at school when I brought daal and bhat (lentils and rice) to eat during lunch. All the teachers looked at me with shock and awe, wondering how I could have learned to make such an Indian dish. One of the teachers even pinched my daal-and-bhat-filled cheeks, as she exclaimed, “You’re turning Indian!” Of course, if she had tasted my so-called authentic Indian dish, she might have revoked that statement. It’s so nice to have at least those 30 minutes every day to socialize with the teachers. Sometimes I sit there, listening to their lively Bangla conversations, trying to pick out a word here or there; other times we talk about the best places to shop for food or clothes. They’ve given me recipes, advised me on the best way to get to South City Mall, told me where to take dance classes…basically, any question I have I can put before the teachers and someone will have an answer. They’re my Google!

Kheer: The teaching highlight of my first week was in one of my 8th grade classes during an activity about general and specific. I had divided the class into groups based on their interests and each group was supposed to present to the class four to five detailed descriptions or facts about their topic. The second group that went was made up of three girls and their topic was food, specifically the Indian rice pudding called kheer. I was not prepared for what followed. First, rather than one person giving their sentence of introduction, they alternated, each saying one word of the sentence. Then, each girl gave a description fit for The Joy of Cooking Indian Food of the ingredients needed, cooking instructions, and possible variations for the dish. I can only imagine what they would have presented if I had given them more than the 15 minutes I allotted for the activity!

Learning about teaching: The biggest realization I had this week was how much this experience is going to prepare me for being a teacher. When I enter graduate school next summer, I’ll have had nine months of learning ways to manage a classroom of 40 energetic students, of altering lessons on the spot to fit the needs of a class, of experimenting with activities to see what does and doesn’t work in a large classroom setting. While I knew I would learn a lot from being an ETA, after the first week I realized just how much “a lot” will be.