After last week’s thwarted attempt (yet another transport strike – we managed to get as far as Itahari in a rickshaw) to reach Dharan, we walked to the bus station at 8am on Sunday morning and boarded a bus about to leave. David had a permanently reclining seat, while mine remained fiercely upright. The bus stopped every few hundred yards to pick up more passengers, milk churns, baskets of mangoes, plants and assorted wild life. The 22km road to Itahari on the main east-west highway is flat and straight, with a string of villages, fields, grazing animals, paddy being ploughed by oxen before rice planting and many small industrial complexes, ranging from steel plants to biscuit making. We reached Itahari in under a hour, much more comfortably than on the back of a cycle rickshaw in blazing sun the week before.
After Itahari, the landscape changed dramatically, with increasingly dense mixed forest, even smaller and more scattered villages, and women carrying huge bundles of wood from the forests. Memories of the permanently bent firewood carriers of Ethiopia. As we approached Dharan, the first hills appeared, thickly wooded and shrouded in cloud. Dharan is an interesting town, relatively affluent, home of many former Gurkhas, with a large mixture of minority ethnic groups from the Terai and the hills. The market had fresh peaches, mushrooms, cherry tomatoes, yellow plums and pineapple, treats not currently available in Biratnagar; there is also a supermarket and a department store (do not imagine Sainsburys or John Lewis). We planned to shop before returning home. At 12:30, in the middle of a torrential downpour, we met Etienne, a young Dutch volunteer working for an NGO in HIV/AIDS education and went for lunch. Half an hour later we heard strident voices through loud hailers, and within minutes all the transport had pulled off the road, shops had pulled down their shutters and the market had packed up. We discovered that the Maoists had called a bandh for the killing of one of their members. No-one seemed to know how long it would last; ‘several days’ was estimated. ‘Ke garne?’ After lunch, Etienne went to a meeting and we wandered round for a bit, discovering that the highway was blocked in both directions by piles of burning tyres. We managed to get a hotel to open its shutters and let us in, so we secured a room for the night in case we could not get home. It is foolish to attempt to travel during a Maoist bandh! David had a shower and went to sleep; I wrote my diary. At 6pm we went out in search of supper and a toothbrush, and discovered that some minibuses were running. We checked with the police who assured us it was ‘thikchha’, but there was likely to another bandh the following day. We decided to get home while we could. The journey home was rapid – and a contender for the most people it is possible to get into a minibus prize. Those that could not get in climbed onto the roof. Police stopped us several times and removed the roof travellers; they reappeared and climbed up again as soon as the checkpoint was passed. We arrived back in a dark and deserted Biratnagar, having already telephoned the landlord to warn him of our late arrival. He is very solicitous and concerned for our well-being. Its rather like having parents again.
It feels like the end of term here – the monsoon break starts next week. Most of the teachers will be in the fields for rice planting. David is busy observing as many lessons as he can before schools close. He is working the 6 – 11am shift this week, and sets off at dawn on his bicycle. One of the 3 schools he is working with is in the countryside, where tiny children with no shoes, books or pencils cram into small poorly ventilated rooms. None of the schools has any resources, but in the town schools the children are equipped with books and pens. Most of the teachers spend most of the lesson reading from the textbook. The children are patient and well behaved; an attempt at ‘active learning’ seems to be to get all the children (sometimes over 100) to read from the book at the same time. He is very happy being with teachers and children rather than in the DEO. I am getting used to a leisurely start to the day, and cycle to the ETC at 9:30; some staff are frantically collating marks and preparing lists for the MoE, while others finish the training groups, back at the ETC for 4 days at the end of school based training. I spent Monday and Tuesday working with the primary trainees as they prepared for their final assessments, and joined in their celebrations after their examination on Thursday. Unfortunately I was required to sing. Several of them will be in schools within cycling distance after the break, so I hope to continue to work with them to monitor how training is put into practice. My enthusiasm for developing ‘training schools’ is for the longer term! The rest of the week I listened to secondary teachers ‘present’ (read aloud) their work (daily journal, case history, notes ….). I feared that they would be required to read every day of their daily journal for the five months of school based training. After two days sitting on a wooden bench listening, I suggested an alternative way of presenting the action research, which relieved the tedium and enabled teachers to learn from each other and discuss practical ways to improve their teaching. The final day was spent doing an examination. I have many questions about how these events reflect teaching competence! We have both written tentative action plans for what we hope do independently and together after the break and optimistically look forward to getting our colleagues together to discuss it. We have started Nepali lessons again with a bright young teacher, and can now ask a range of questions about teaching and learning. Unfortunately we will not understand the answers.
The weather varies between pleasantly cool (about 30oC) and windy, to blazing hot (40oC+). We are regulars at the pool to cool off at the end of the day before we make supper. David’s range of desserts continues to get even better, and we are trying to do interesting things with a variety of curiously shaped vegetables. Friday was a festival day – asadh pandhra, to elebrate the first day of rice planting, so we were invited to eat with Dinesh at his sister’s house. He is distressed that he has still not been able to get our furniture from his cottage industry project near Kakarbitta; his attempts are constantly thwarted by bandhs. After starting with the traditional asadh pandhra dish of chudra dahi (beaten rice with yoghurt), a succession of delicious vegetable dishes accompanied by yet more family members (4 generations) appeared. We cycled home in the darkness, very full, and with a year’s supply of homemade mango pickle. Our attempts to escape from the scorching plains of the Terai to the hills are scuppered again this weekend by yet another bandh.
Saturday, 30 June 2007
Saturday, 23 June 2007
A day in the new life ...
Tuesday 19 June 2007 (mangalbaar 5 asaar 2064)
Woken at 2am by torrential rain, thunder, lightning and bellowing frogs. A grey damp dawn breaks at 4:50. At 7 we are up and David sets off on his bicycle to collect some plants for the house and terrace from a nearby nursery. The plants and the gardener arrive on a handcart an hour later – beautiful, mature tropical plants, some several feet tall. Burnham Wood arrives at Tintolia. At 8:30 Joseph and Hanneke (visiting from Kathmandu for a HIV workshop) arrive for breakfast – mango and banana lassi, toast and Himalayan coffee. At 9:30 we leave for the ETC – David comes with me as the ETC is always busy, and I see more of his DEO colleagues than he does. We are the first to arrive, so open the windows and get the fans started. People start to come and go; David joins the secondary teachers’ refresher training.
At 11, I walk across the road to Balmandir Primary School, where I have been several times to meet and observe trainees (8 women in their late 20s, no English). Yesterday I attended the ‘exhibition’ of the resources they have made. The night rain has resulted in a small lake where the path used to be. I roll my trousers and try unsuccessfully to avoid the worst of the mud. It’s the trainees last day in school; they look cool and elegant in their saris. I look hot and muddy. I am greeted warmly, a bindi to match my kurta is stuck on my forehead, I’m hugged by the old lady (probably younger than me) who ‘rings the bell’ (bangs a metal plate); then she walks around menacingly with a big stick. Teachers are busy wrapping presents and prizes for the children. At 11:30, after the plate has been struck, 300 excited children arrive in the main room, dragging benches and chairs which are crammed at the back, while tables and chairs are set out for the ‘honourable guests’. The head of the ETC, headteacher, supervisor from the DEO and teacher trainers arrive. We are introduced; ‘Diborah madam’ gets up to say namaste. Then there are speeches interspersed with children singing, reciting poetry and dancing. While the speeches are going on, 300 children chatter, giggle, push each other off the ends of the benches and pull each others’ hair; some minor scuffles break out. The speakers carry on unperturbed. I am invited to present the prizes. Then it’s time for ‘break the pot’, a traditional Nepali game. There is an upturned clay pot in the yard. In turn, the teachers are blindfolded, twisted round and sent off vaguely in the direction of the pot. When they think they are near it, they hit out ferociously with the stick. Get the idea? Children yell encouragement and instructions, while teachers laugh hysterically. Of course I have to take my turn. I have no sense of direction even when sighted, so quickly left the paved yard and found myself in yet another swamp.
Next: khaana belaa bhayo (food). Children have small tiffin tins and sweets, teachers have snack boxes (samosa and gulab jamon). The trainees present me with a special necklace, married women’s glass bracelets, decorated bindis in many colours and some nail varnish (obviously an attempt to smarten me up).
After thank yous and goodbyes, I paddle back through the lake. As I arrive at the ETC, Rudra comes to tell me ‘now we are training’, and I have to co-teach a session on active learning to the secondary teachers, conscious that I am covered in mud from the knees downwards. The 2 hour session overruns, with lots of questions and laughter. He thinks it goes very well. I suggest it might have been better with some forward planning.
Cycle home at 5pm; wash clothes and self; cover ankles and arms in Mossbar (a brilliant kind of soap that deters mosquitoes). We have supper and watch episode 3 of The Barchester Chronicles to the comforting sound of the fan, the frogs, chirruping geckoes and pinging grasshoppers. I wonder what Trollope would make of it here. Read the Himalayan Post; the usual stories of political inertia, strikes and Maoist activities on the front page; lead story on page 3 ’20 faint after consuming mushroom’. Manage to complete the crossword before falling asleep.
Woken at 2am by torrential rain, thunder, lightning and bellowing frogs. A grey damp dawn breaks at 4:50. At 7 we are up and David sets off on his bicycle to collect some plants for the house and terrace from a nearby nursery. The plants and the gardener arrive on a handcart an hour later – beautiful, mature tropical plants, some several feet tall. Burnham Wood arrives at Tintolia. At 8:30 Joseph and Hanneke (visiting from Kathmandu for a HIV workshop) arrive for breakfast – mango and banana lassi, toast and Himalayan coffee. At 9:30 we leave for the ETC – David comes with me as the ETC is always busy, and I see more of his DEO colleagues than he does. We are the first to arrive, so open the windows and get the fans started. People start to come and go; David joins the secondary teachers’ refresher training.
At 11, I walk across the road to Balmandir Primary School, where I have been several times to meet and observe trainees (8 women in their late 20s, no English). Yesterday I attended the ‘exhibition’ of the resources they have made. The night rain has resulted in a small lake where the path used to be. I roll my trousers and try unsuccessfully to avoid the worst of the mud. It’s the trainees last day in school; they look cool and elegant in their saris. I look hot and muddy. I am greeted warmly, a bindi to match my kurta is stuck on my forehead, I’m hugged by the old lady (probably younger than me) who ‘rings the bell’ (bangs a metal plate); then she walks around menacingly with a big stick. Teachers are busy wrapping presents and prizes for the children. At 11:30, after the plate has been struck, 300 excited children arrive in the main room, dragging benches and chairs which are crammed at the back, while tables and chairs are set out for the ‘honourable guests’. The head of the ETC, headteacher, supervisor from the DEO and teacher trainers arrive. We are introduced; ‘Diborah madam’ gets up to say namaste. Then there are speeches interspersed with children singing, reciting poetry and dancing. While the speeches are going on, 300 children chatter, giggle, push each other off the ends of the benches and pull each others’ hair; some minor scuffles break out. The speakers carry on unperturbed. I am invited to present the prizes. Then it’s time for ‘break the pot’, a traditional Nepali game. There is an upturned clay pot in the yard. In turn, the teachers are blindfolded, twisted round and sent off vaguely in the direction of the pot. When they think they are near it, they hit out ferociously with the stick. Get the idea? Children yell encouragement and instructions, while teachers laugh hysterically. Of course I have to take my turn. I have no sense of direction even when sighted, so quickly left the paved yard and found myself in yet another swamp.
Next: khaana belaa bhayo (food). Children have small tiffin tins and sweets, teachers have snack boxes (samosa and gulab jamon). The trainees present me with a special necklace, married women’s glass bracelets, decorated bindis in many colours and some nail varnish (obviously an attempt to smarten me up).
After thank yous and goodbyes, I paddle back through the lake. As I arrive at the ETC, Rudra comes to tell me ‘now we are training’, and I have to co-teach a session on active learning to the secondary teachers, conscious that I am covered in mud from the knees downwards. The 2 hour session overruns, with lots of questions and laughter. He thinks it goes very well. I suggest it might have been better with some forward planning.
Cycle home at 5pm; wash clothes and self; cover ankles and arms in Mossbar (a brilliant kind of soap that deters mosquitoes). We have supper and watch episode 3 of The Barchester Chronicles to the comforting sound of the fan, the frogs, chirruping geckoes and pinging grasshoppers. I wonder what Trollope would make of it here. Read the Himalayan Post; the usual stories of political inertia, strikes and Maoist activities on the front page; lead story on page 3 ’20 faint after consuming mushroom’. Manage to complete the crossword before falling asleep.
Saturday, 16 June 2007
New home
The dheraa is becoming more like a home. Last weekend was spent with BANG! (great at removing dirt and skin) making one bathroom acceptable. The living space has high ceilings and marble floors, with 3 ceiling fans. There is a good kitchen with marble worksurfaces – wonderful for rolling out rotis. We have an efficient gas burner and a small electric oven. There are frequent power cuts. The bright blue Whirlpool fridge with summer, winter and monsoon settings acts as a good store against ants as well as keeping things cold. The Indian shop nearby provides most of our needs, although 2kg bags seem to be the smallest of most staples. Its good to cook our own food, after eating out for 10 weeks. David’s banana ice cream is wonderful! Most of the washing goes to the dobi manche on the corner, and comes back clean and pressed on the back of my bicycle in the evening.
We have collected several new pieces of furniture in rickshaws and on handcarts. A sofa and two chairs will come from Dinesh’s cottage industry project next week. We have just put up the posters that we bought in Kathmandu – my favourite is a print of painted goats of the Terai – especially as there were painted goats in the garden today – white goats with fuchsia pink stripes for identification.
There are mango, banana, papaya and lychees in the garden; the mango tree attracts brilliant yellow birds, while mongooses play in the bushes – a good protection against the snakes that are supposed to appear with the rains!
There is also abundant wildlife inside the house – a paradise for entomologists, and a plentiful food supply for the delightful geckoes that chirrup loudly and wag their tails. Fireflies twinkle helpfully when the power goes.
I have found a back way to cycle to work, and pass a mixture a large houses interspersed with tiny mud and wood dwellings with cows, buffalo, goats and chickens. Many have small vegetable stalls in front selling onions, potatoes, aubergines, beans and squash. The equivalent of farm shops.
A varied week at work. I have spent 3 days observing trainee teachers in a primary school a 10 minute bike ride away from the city. I’ve enjoyed being in school and have met lively students – mostly girls, as all parents who can afford to send their sons to private school. There are classrooms, desks and books, and small classes. The situation in rural areas is much worse, with classes in excess of 100. Teachers and teaching were haphazard. I watched 4 lessons on Thursday morning, which lasted as long as the teacher wanted (not long). In the afternoon they decided to have ‘physical activity’, chasing around the field in excessive heat, avoiding the fresh cowpats. When the children were tired, they went home. Frequent bandhs do not help. None of the trainees turned up on Friday, and only 2 of the ‘regular’ teachers came. I joined Durga for a day at a UNICEF funded primary training course, with some excellent trainers from a Kathmandu based NGO that is doing innovative work in remote areas. There are good structures in place, a sound curriculum, good training, but no evidence of implementation, and no support for trainees in school. Hmm. Watching, listening and planning intervention…… Work seems to be starting to move for David at last, having spent Friday with the Resource Person responsible for the schools in which he will work. He will visit ‘his’ schools next week. I am expected to be a computer expert. We have bought a new laptop and had the internet installed; as I was leaving on Friday in an attempt to beat the storm brewing, Rudra called ‘tapaai malaai laptop chalaaunu deknos!’ from the window, so I returned to help him set up the laptop. By the time I left it was pouring, and I rode home through torrential rain skirting small shrieking children playing in puddles in their knickers. It rained hard all night. The frogs are very vocal.
Saturday – the market is open but the shops are closed, so we load our bikes with fruit and vegetables and cycle precariously home (today, shedding plums on the way). We also have internet access all day, so can read the Guardian online and catch up with The Archers. Small pleasures! Joseph is coming for supper, and tomorrow we plan to catch the bus to Dharan, about 40km away at the base of the hills.
We have collected several new pieces of furniture in rickshaws and on handcarts. A sofa and two chairs will come from Dinesh’s cottage industry project next week. We have just put up the posters that we bought in Kathmandu – my favourite is a print of painted goats of the Terai – especially as there were painted goats in the garden today – white goats with fuchsia pink stripes for identification.
There are mango, banana, papaya and lychees in the garden; the mango tree attracts brilliant yellow birds, while mongooses play in the bushes – a good protection against the snakes that are supposed to appear with the rains!
There is also abundant wildlife inside the house – a paradise for entomologists, and a plentiful food supply for the delightful geckoes that chirrup loudly and wag their tails. Fireflies twinkle helpfully when the power goes.
I have found a back way to cycle to work, and pass a mixture a large houses interspersed with tiny mud and wood dwellings with cows, buffalo, goats and chickens. Many have small vegetable stalls in front selling onions, potatoes, aubergines, beans and squash. The equivalent of farm shops.
A varied week at work. I have spent 3 days observing trainee teachers in a primary school a 10 minute bike ride away from the city. I’ve enjoyed being in school and have met lively students – mostly girls, as all parents who can afford to send their sons to private school. There are classrooms, desks and books, and small classes. The situation in rural areas is much worse, with classes in excess of 100. Teachers and teaching were haphazard. I watched 4 lessons on Thursday morning, which lasted as long as the teacher wanted (not long). In the afternoon they decided to have ‘physical activity’, chasing around the field in excessive heat, avoiding the fresh cowpats. When the children were tired, they went home. Frequent bandhs do not help. None of the trainees turned up on Friday, and only 2 of the ‘regular’ teachers came. I joined Durga for a day at a UNICEF funded primary training course, with some excellent trainers from a Kathmandu based NGO that is doing innovative work in remote areas. There are good structures in place, a sound curriculum, good training, but no evidence of implementation, and no support for trainees in school. Hmm. Watching, listening and planning intervention…… Work seems to be starting to move for David at last, having spent Friday with the Resource Person responsible for the schools in which he will work. He will visit ‘his’ schools next week. I am expected to be a computer expert. We have bought a new laptop and had the internet installed; as I was leaving on Friday in an attempt to beat the storm brewing, Rudra called ‘tapaai malaai laptop chalaaunu deknos!’ from the window, so I returned to help him set up the laptop. By the time I left it was pouring, and I rode home through torrential rain skirting small shrieking children playing in puddles in their knickers. It rained hard all night. The frogs are very vocal.
Saturday – the market is open but the shops are closed, so we load our bikes with fruit and vegetables and cycle precariously home (today, shedding plums on the way). We also have internet access all day, so can read the Guardian online and catch up with The Archers. Small pleasures! Joseph is coming for supper, and tomorrow we plan to catch the bus to Dharan, about 40km away at the base of the hills.
Saturday, 9 June 2007
Biratnagar
It’s easy (even for us) to find our way around here. We live in Tintolia, a residential area in the SE. David’s office is in the SW and mine in the NE, so we set off at right angles in the morning. There are two main N/S roads, the highway from India to the airport, which has occasional brightly painted overloaded horn honking trucks, ox carts carrying oil drums and cycle carts loaded with chij bij (stuff). Cycles and motorbikes weave in and out. There are a few restaurants, and people making baskets, pottery and wooden items. Main Road runs parallel and is the main shopping street. From south to north, the shops are roughly grocery, stationery, fruit and veg market, fabrics, kitchen equipment and electrical goods, interspersed with Hindu temples. We have established good relationships with several shopkeepers who give good discount, refunds and replacements. Chinese electrical equipment is ridiculously cheap with a short life expectancy, but it produced excellent banana lassi and toast for breakfast. David is keeping the carpenter busy making up his designs. I am revelling in my collection of kitchen plastics, to which I add daily on my way home from work. We selected some curtain material yesterday and the curtains were ready for collection by the time we had shopped for vegetables! The only china plates we’ve found in town are at the Xenial (swimming pool) hotel; not available in Nepal so the obliging chef went across the border to India for us and bought us a set (open border 5km from here for Nepalis, but not for us). The only day off is Saturday, when all the shops are closed. Maoist activists forcibly close down the ones that try to open. Our only disappointment is that there is currently no cheese in town, as there is a bandh on the highway from Ilam. Tinned Indian cheese is a poor substitute!
The move to our new home was incident packed. We loaded 14 items into the small hotel minibus. Thirteen items were unpacked – my computer bag with all my work and important documents was missing. The bus had departed to pick up students and I spent an extremely anxious hour before it returned and my bag was unearthed from under the back seat. Workmen were ‘cleaning’ with dirty rags, and Chattra the landlord insisted that they finished. Then the floor polisher came, so it was impossible to do anything. We went off to shop for some cleaning materials and were caught in a storm. Found sanctuary in ‘Maakhanu Bhog’. Lunch interrupted by chef running shrieking from kitchen brandishing a broom with which he clubbed to death a small rat. When the rain subsided we emerged to find that the sewers had overflowed.
We were able to unpack in the kitchen and set up the bed. The gas cylinder did not arrive until 7pm, so we went out to eat. Everything was locked and barred when we returned. When we eventually got in, we had a very comfortable night with 2 fans and only a few mosquitoes.
The next day was much better and I was able to cook dinner for Gerry, another volunteer here to do some IT training. The effect was spoiled by a mass hatching of lacewings, with a life span of about 3 minutes, after which they plummeted into the food.
It took less than a day to get a broadband connection - the landlord made some enquiries in the morning and by 5pm three chaps had arrived with a cable that they stuck through the window and put 2 bare wires into an electric socket. It works!
Work continues to delight and frustrate – we are meeting lots of people, speaking terrible Nepali (we will try and find a teacher next week to give us tuition a couple of mornings before work) and doing some constructive things. I planted a tree at a local primary school for World Environment day on Tuesday, helped by several hundred small children. On Friday I did some input into a science teacher training day in a open sided shed with 23 male teachers and 2 female goats. Still trying to arrange a planning meeting with all my colleagues. People meet but there are no meetings in the western sense. It’s only 2 weeks, and establishing good relationships is a priority!
The move to our new home was incident packed. We loaded 14 items into the small hotel minibus. Thirteen items were unpacked – my computer bag with all my work and important documents was missing. The bus had departed to pick up students and I spent an extremely anxious hour before it returned and my bag was unearthed from under the back seat. Workmen were ‘cleaning’ with dirty rags, and Chattra the landlord insisted that they finished. Then the floor polisher came, so it was impossible to do anything. We went off to shop for some cleaning materials and were caught in a storm. Found sanctuary in ‘Maakhanu Bhog’. Lunch interrupted by chef running shrieking from kitchen brandishing a broom with which he clubbed to death a small rat. When the rain subsided we emerged to find that the sewers had overflowed.
We were able to unpack in the kitchen and set up the bed. The gas cylinder did not arrive until 7pm, so we went out to eat. Everything was locked and barred when we returned. When we eventually got in, we had a very comfortable night with 2 fans and only a few mosquitoes.
The next day was much better and I was able to cook dinner for Gerry, another volunteer here to do some IT training. The effect was spoiled by a mass hatching of lacewings, with a life span of about 3 minutes, after which they plummeted into the food.
It took less than a day to get a broadband connection - the landlord made some enquiries in the morning and by 5pm three chaps had arrived with a cable that they stuck through the window and put 2 bare wires into an electric socket. It works!
Work continues to delight and frustrate – we are meeting lots of people, speaking terrible Nepali (we will try and find a teacher next week to give us tuition a couple of mornings before work) and doing some constructive things. I planted a tree at a local primary school for World Environment day on Tuesday, helped by several hundred small children. On Friday I did some input into a science teacher training day in a open sided shed with 23 male teachers and 2 female goats. Still trying to arrange a planning meeting with all my colleagues. People meet but there are no meetings in the western sense. It’s only 2 weeks, and establishing good relationships is a priority!
Saturday, 2 June 2007
First day at work
Friday May 25
Rudra (thulo manche = big man = boss) had invited me for an introductory meeting at 10am. David came too, as his office is still locked. The charming Durga with his gentle smile greeted us; Rudra had gone home for ‘lunch’. Normal working hours are 10 – 5 and most people do not go to work until they have eaten the first daal bhat of the day. During the day many people came and went; Rudra returned; tea was brought (boiled with milk and sugar). Durga was teaching a group of headteachers, here for a one month training. Although we were unable to understand much of what was being said (the topic was ‘non-violent discipline’), the methods were good, with different activities, case studies, discussion and laughter. We introduced ourselves in Nepali. Our meeting started at 4:10pm. A tour of the building – 2 training room, 4 offices, toilets (such a relief after Ethiopia!), and a new 2 storey building under construction with a training room, library, laboratory and offices. Formal introductions were made. There are 4 trainers (Rudra, Durga, Umapati and Govind) one administrator (Anil – a talented musician) and 2 ‘peons’ – Bhakta and Lalmani (Dalits of course), who respond to bells on the trainers’ desks and fetch things, including tea and snacks. There’s also a brown dog. Lots of part-time staff too, mostly retired headteachers, who ‘come and go’. Most of the courses are for serving teachers who have had no training. They indicated the things they need help with – new training methods, follow up of training, action research, planning, report writing and computer skills.
After work Durga invited us to meet his family and eat. He has 3 daughters, Kabita the eldest recently married and about to go to London to join her husband who is studying accountancy there. A fascinating evening, sitting under the fan in the main bedroom (the coolest place). His daughters are bright, lively, confident and speak good English. His wife speaks no English and appeared smiling shyly from time to time. Sabita, age 18 had cooked the food – daal bhat with a variety of vegetable dishes, and watched attentively while we ate with Durga - guests and men always eat first in silence, and the women ate watching TV after we left. Amazing how in one generation so much has changed for women in urban areas.
Getting used to being permanently hot and damp.
The weekend was spent house hunting with Joseph and some of our new acquaintances, looking at a variety of apartments from miniature marble palaces to filthy cockroach infested rooms. Each evening we meet our new friend Dinesh from the cane furniture enterprise and walk the back streets to see places he has scouted for early in the morning. We arrive back hot, grubby and covered in mosquito bites. Meanwhile the Ratna hotel is comfortable and cool. We have taken a year’s membership of the swimming pool, and are now more mobile with our sturdy Indian bicycles. The ‘Friends’ Restaurant’ across the road from the hotel has become a firm favourite. There are plentiful supplies of very cold water, efficient fans, whole paper napkins, the food is tasty and cheap and it’s the only place we’ve found where our arms do not stick to the table. As an alternative, there are excellent masala dosas at the unfortunately named ‘Maakhanu Bhog’.
On my second day at work (Monday), having tried to find my way around the computer system in the morning I was asked (at 1:50) to do a session on the UK Education System. Start time 2pm. As it was Nepali time I was able to produce a brief powerpoint summary of what I thought they might be interested in, and introduced items in simple English with bits of Nepali when I could remember them. There was ‘hot discussion’ – a favourite expression from Ethiopia. And it was hot; the heat from the LCD projector (amazed that they had one and that I could get it to work) added to the stifling temperature in the room. Most of the men had removed their caps (traditional Nepali or baseball), the only woman fanned herself with the end of her sari while the men rolled up their trousers to the knee and their shirts to under their armpits, revealing their sparkling white vests.
On day 3 I based myself in Govind’s office, where there is a fan and the computer. It opens onto the training room so I can observe and listen. Govind was supposed to go to observe primary teachers in school today, but the government schools are still closed, so he went to sleep instead. I have found my way around the computer system and refreshed my rudimentary knowledge of Excel. Bhakta and Lalmani are very attentive; Bhakta brings me water and mango juice; Lalmani insists on unlocking my bike and wheeling it to the path at the end of the day.
Day 4 To my amazement, when I arrived at work, Rudra was at the computer inserting columns for collect data an gender and ethnic minorities on the spreadsheets – I talked with him about inclusion (big VSO priority here) yesterday. Umapati took me to his house to meet his wife – on the bed under the fan watching TV. She provided mangoes and lychees for my lunch. We have been invited to do some input to the headteacher session on Target Groups (girls, Dalits, different tribal groups and the disabled) on Thursday. In the afternoon it was so hot that the training moved downstairs. I enjoyed watching Bhakta in his vest and pants setting up the LCD projector. David’s office is still closed, but we met Arjun (DEO) last night for a chat. Meanwhile David continues house hunting and finding places to buy furniture. The bicycles are wonderful, and we are good at weaving in and out of the traffic and avoiding hazards. I wear my scarf sash style to prevent being throttled. The scarf is such a useful part of my kurta surwaal, for frequent mopping of brow, cleaning tables, chairs, computer screen, and drying hands.
Day 5 on Target Groups was fascinating, with lots of impassioned debate. DAGs (Disadvantaged Groups) make up 53% of the population in this area. We are now an accepted part of the group and are able to join in group discussion. Made a decision on our new home too – we will move into the marble floored flat next week. Having paid our deposit last night, we tried to find a mattress and had our first experience of night time cycling. No rickshaws or bikes have lights. Neither do ox carts, cows, dogs or goats. Most motorbikes do not use them. We did find a mattress and get home unscathed.
A very good day on Friday, involved in the headteacher training and typing up some observations and suggestions. It ends on Monday - I will miss them, and am delighted at how easily I have become accepted. Plans for the weekend are scuppered as we have been invited to the headteachers’ picnic tomorrow – departure time 7am, and on Sunday I have promised to go to their final presentations.
The picnic
7:30am pickup from the centre of town in a blue van left by the British c.1940. More than 20 of us crammed in the back on 3 rickety metal benches for the 8km journey along dirt tracks to a Science Park. More followed on motorbikes. The museum and planetarium were closed, but the heads – ranging in age from 30 to nearly 60, headed straight for the children’s playground where they played on the swings, a roundabout and a rusty slide. We joined in enthusiastically. Then breakfast – stacks of white bread, omelettes and channa masala. This was followed by tree climbing until they were exhausted and retired to a shelter where we sat in a circle, told jokes and stories and sang songs for 2 hours. We now have a repertoire of Nepali folk songs, but we were required to sing solos in English. Then Durga introduced a game that lasted until lunch. Lunch part one was fried chicken or sticky sweets for the vegetarians. After a rest under the trees, vast quantities of daal bhat were dished out from metal buckets. The journey back was even more exciting, as Govind’s motorbike broke down and we had to find room for him and the bike in the back of the van. Arrived back at 4:30, full, exhausted and filthy. Just in time to pick up our new table and chairs, hire a hand cart and take them to the flat.
Rudra (thulo manche = big man = boss) had invited me for an introductory meeting at 10am. David came too, as his office is still locked. The charming Durga with his gentle smile greeted us; Rudra had gone home for ‘lunch’. Normal working hours are 10 – 5 and most people do not go to work until they have eaten the first daal bhat of the day. During the day many people came and went; Rudra returned; tea was brought (boiled with milk and sugar). Durga was teaching a group of headteachers, here for a one month training. Although we were unable to understand much of what was being said (the topic was ‘non-violent discipline’), the methods were good, with different activities, case studies, discussion and laughter. We introduced ourselves in Nepali. Our meeting started at 4:10pm. A tour of the building – 2 training room, 4 offices, toilets (such a relief after Ethiopia!), and a new 2 storey building under construction with a training room, library, laboratory and offices. Formal introductions were made. There are 4 trainers (Rudra, Durga, Umapati and Govind) one administrator (Anil – a talented musician) and 2 ‘peons’ – Bhakta and Lalmani (Dalits of course), who respond to bells on the trainers’ desks and fetch things, including tea and snacks. There’s also a brown dog. Lots of part-time staff too, mostly retired headteachers, who ‘come and go’. Most of the courses are for serving teachers who have had no training. They indicated the things they need help with – new training methods, follow up of training, action research, planning, report writing and computer skills.
After work Durga invited us to meet his family and eat. He has 3 daughters, Kabita the eldest recently married and about to go to London to join her husband who is studying accountancy there. A fascinating evening, sitting under the fan in the main bedroom (the coolest place). His daughters are bright, lively, confident and speak good English. His wife speaks no English and appeared smiling shyly from time to time. Sabita, age 18 had cooked the food – daal bhat with a variety of vegetable dishes, and watched attentively while we ate with Durga - guests and men always eat first in silence, and the women ate watching TV after we left. Amazing how in one generation so much has changed for women in urban areas.
Getting used to being permanently hot and damp.
The weekend was spent house hunting with Joseph and some of our new acquaintances, looking at a variety of apartments from miniature marble palaces to filthy cockroach infested rooms. Each evening we meet our new friend Dinesh from the cane furniture enterprise and walk the back streets to see places he has scouted for early in the morning. We arrive back hot, grubby and covered in mosquito bites. Meanwhile the Ratna hotel is comfortable and cool. We have taken a year’s membership of the swimming pool, and are now more mobile with our sturdy Indian bicycles. The ‘Friends’ Restaurant’ across the road from the hotel has become a firm favourite. There are plentiful supplies of very cold water, efficient fans, whole paper napkins, the food is tasty and cheap and it’s the only place we’ve found where our arms do not stick to the table. As an alternative, there are excellent masala dosas at the unfortunately named ‘Maakhanu Bhog’.
On my second day at work (Monday), having tried to find my way around the computer system in the morning I was asked (at 1:50) to do a session on the UK Education System. Start time 2pm. As it was Nepali time I was able to produce a brief powerpoint summary of what I thought they might be interested in, and introduced items in simple English with bits of Nepali when I could remember them. There was ‘hot discussion’ – a favourite expression from Ethiopia. And it was hot; the heat from the LCD projector (amazed that they had one and that I could get it to work) added to the stifling temperature in the room. Most of the men had removed their caps (traditional Nepali or baseball), the only woman fanned herself with the end of her sari while the men rolled up their trousers to the knee and their shirts to under their armpits, revealing their sparkling white vests.
On day 3 I based myself in Govind’s office, where there is a fan and the computer. It opens onto the training room so I can observe and listen. Govind was supposed to go to observe primary teachers in school today, but the government schools are still closed, so he went to sleep instead. I have found my way around the computer system and refreshed my rudimentary knowledge of Excel. Bhakta and Lalmani are very attentive; Bhakta brings me water and mango juice; Lalmani insists on unlocking my bike and wheeling it to the path at the end of the day.
Day 4 To my amazement, when I arrived at work, Rudra was at the computer inserting columns for collect data an gender and ethnic minorities on the spreadsheets – I talked with him about inclusion (big VSO priority here) yesterday. Umapati took me to his house to meet his wife – on the bed under the fan watching TV. She provided mangoes and lychees for my lunch. We have been invited to do some input to the headteacher session on Target Groups (girls, Dalits, different tribal groups and the disabled) on Thursday. In the afternoon it was so hot that the training moved downstairs. I enjoyed watching Bhakta in his vest and pants setting up the LCD projector. David’s office is still closed, but we met Arjun (DEO) last night for a chat. Meanwhile David continues house hunting and finding places to buy furniture. The bicycles are wonderful, and we are good at weaving in and out of the traffic and avoiding hazards. I wear my scarf sash style to prevent being throttled. The scarf is such a useful part of my kurta surwaal, for frequent mopping of brow, cleaning tables, chairs, computer screen, and drying hands.
Day 5 on Target Groups was fascinating, with lots of impassioned debate. DAGs (Disadvantaged Groups) make up 53% of the population in this area. We are now an accepted part of the group and are able to join in group discussion. Made a decision on our new home too – we will move into the marble floored flat next week. Having paid our deposit last night, we tried to find a mattress and had our first experience of night time cycling. No rickshaws or bikes have lights. Neither do ox carts, cows, dogs or goats. Most motorbikes do not use them. We did find a mattress and get home unscathed.
A very good day on Friday, involved in the headteacher training and typing up some observations and suggestions. It ends on Monday - I will miss them, and am delighted at how easily I have become accepted. Plans for the weekend are scuppered as we have been invited to the headteachers’ picnic tomorrow – departure time 7am, and on Sunday I have promised to go to their final presentations.
The picnic
7:30am pickup from the centre of town in a blue van left by the British c.1940. More than 20 of us crammed in the back on 3 rickety metal benches for the 8km journey along dirt tracks to a Science Park. More followed on motorbikes. The museum and planetarium were closed, but the heads – ranging in age from 30 to nearly 60, headed straight for the children’s playground where they played on the swings, a roundabout and a rusty slide. We joined in enthusiastically. Then breakfast – stacks of white bread, omelettes and channa masala. This was followed by tree climbing until they were exhausted and retired to a shelter where we sat in a circle, told jokes and stories and sang songs for 2 hours. We now have a repertoire of Nepali folk songs, but we were required to sing solos in English. Then Durga introduced a game that lasted until lunch. Lunch part one was fried chicken or sticky sweets for the vegetarians. After a rest under the trees, vast quantities of daal bhat were dished out from metal buckets. The journey back was even more exciting, as Govind’s motorbike broke down and we had to find room for him and the bike in the back of the van. Arrived back at 4:30, full, exhausted and filthy. Just in time to pick up our new table and chairs, hire a hand cart and take them to the flat.
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