Mother's Day

We arrived home on Monday evening to find water pouring from the roof. Predictably none in the taps in our flat. A hose pipe was shooting a healthy jet of clean water across the roof from a feed pipe coming from below. It took some time to work out why this hose going nowhere had suddenly started spouting water. Eventually realisation dawned. The hose used to connect a metal pipe to the outside tap on the roof. The water pipes were the strange pieces of metal we found inside our flat that had been used to force the padlock. Quite why the water supply to the roof seemed to have resumed when there is no water anywhere else is yet to be understood. Tried to call a plumber, but too late in the day. Then the storms that have been pounding Myanmar arrived with torrents of rain and high winds. An eventful evening and night, with the bedroom lit by sheltering fireflies.
It had been a lovely day at the ETC, with some much improved micro-teaching in the morning, and a special presentation for Nepali Mother’s Day in the afternoon. I, of course, am now haamro aama, and was serenaded and festooned with jewellery. The bracelets are so tight I am unable to get them off and swam many lengths of the pool with 16 red and gold bracelets tinkling. I left my bindi stuck to the changing room wall, where I suspect it will stay for several months.
David, having managed to do some team teaching last week, arrived on Monday to find the staff and about 200 children about to set off into the countryside with a huge red and yellow banner to attract more children into school. They roamed the lanes and villages Pied Piper-like, collecting tiny children on the way. Yet more name cards to be made and laminated.
My primary group has been joined by one of Lalmani’s goats – a frisky young kid with a bell round his neck who loves jumping over the chair struts and rubbing against teachers’ legs. He was chased out as he tried to chew through the power cable, thus avoiding roast goat for khaja break. Every day the training gets a little better, with more preparation and more variety. I have a set of alphabet cards and number cards that I use for different simple activities suitable for children that we use every day, similar to the activities that David is trialling in schools with his teachers.
A day out on Friday. Anil (the sophisticated and efficient administrator at the ETC) introduced me to his sister before the election; she and some friends have started a kindergarten in Itahari, and wanted some advice. Although we are not the best people to offer advice on nursery education, we promised to visit. We caught the bus, while Anil, who understandably does not trust Nepali buses, went by motorcycle. His map was easy to follow, and we arrived at the Blooming Kindergarten at 10:30am. We were garlanded and presented with flowers by tiny children in pink checked shirts and chatted to Srijana, Smriti and Manju in the office in a mixture of English and Nepali. They have 50 children aged 2 ½ - 5, and are desperate for more training. We have found training providers and hope they will be able to find some locally. We were really impressed by what they have achieved with bright airy classrooms, beautifully decorated, lots of toys and play space, tiny tables and chairs for more formal work. We were of course given their full repertoire of English and Nepali songs before joining them in a classroom, and best of all, playing on the floor with the little ones. School finishes early on Friday (1pm), so Srijana had arranged transport to local places of interest, a landscaped picnic area in the countryside and a sculpture park – a wild garden where an artist makes and displays Hindu and Buddhist figures. This was followed by lunch at another resort spot and the presentation of gifts. Anil sped back to Birtanagar, while we returned to the centre of Itahari and the Gorkha Department Store – the nearest thing to a proper shop in the eastern Terai. After a bit of retail therapy, we found pineapples, not seen in Birtanagar since September, in the market and caught a speedy but more hazardous microbus, complete with Barbie doll stickers, back to Biratnagar. To our delight, there was water in the flat, so we had a proper shower.
Karna, the charming Dalit boy who used to work for Chhatra and sleep here, has returned; he appeared one evening last week, hoping to find Chhatra and Tara back from America. He has finished his exams (School Leaving Certificate) and is currently working as labourer to save enough money for the next phase of his education (equivalent to sixth form) which starts next month. After a series of daily e-mails back and forth to America, Karna has moved into a small room of the upstairs flat tonight, ‘for security’, and to clean the flat and tidy the garden before Chhatra comes home. Its good to have him back.
Taking advantage of the new transport strike free Nepal, on Sunday we went with Joseph to meet Etienne in Dharan, for our VSO regional meeting. This is our last meeting, as Joseph returns to Uganda in June and Etienne finishes in September. We decided to head up to Bhedetar, at 1500m, where it is cooler and there are spectacular mountain views on a clear day. It was not a clear day, so we continued north to Dhankuta. We ordered lunch at the best hotel in town and walked along the ridge during the one hour wait. Joseph’s roast chicken arrived looking like something rubber from a joke shop, while the rest of us stuck to vegetables. Later we walked through the small town, with some traditional old houses with intricately carved windows, surrounded by excited school children – black and white bideshi were a real novelty.
We arrived back in Dharan after hurtling the 50km downhill, freewheeling most of the way to save fuel, just in time to catch the last bus back to Biratnagar. We were lashed by ferocious winds and joined by market traders at the end of the day. At Itahari, at least 100 women and children boarded the already full bus, with the remains of their day’s produce. Unfortunately most of it was fish, and although the crates were heaved onto the roof, the smell lingered on. David described it as being inside a mobile lunatic asylum. We arrived back in Biratnagar as the first huge drops of rain fell and sheets of lightening flashed across the sky. We sheltered under a shop awning until the shopkeeper decided to pull down the shutters for the night, so set off for home, wading over our ankles in water. My hands were so wet I could not slide the bolt to the gate, then realised that it was padlocked on the inside. How carefully Karna is looking after us! I was about to ring the bell when there was a huge thunderclap and the power went, thus preventing the bell from working. David was about to attempt to heave me over the wall when the power returned and we were able to rouse a very embarrassed Karna.
Work has suddenly become incredibly busy. The schools are still in start stop mode, but David’s grade 1 class that started with 20 students, now has 95. I am much in demand by all the trainers to ‘help’ with their sessions, which usually means planning the activities for the day. Sometimes I am given clues about what might be useful so I can do proper preparation. There are currently 2 primary groups, life skills training and one month headteacher training. Secondary English, Nepali and Social studies starts on June 4.
And on the waterfront, the day after the water supply to the house resumed, Chhatra’s sister arrived with a team of men and a tube well was installed in the back yard. Two days later, her husband came with another group of men and removed all the pipes ….