Saraswati

The very hungry caterpillar has been a great success with ECD at two schools. The children love the story and all have made a caterpillar segment with their names, weight, favourite things. Its been a brilliant way of getting them to talk individually.

Primary and secondary training programmes have finished, with great celebrations, and we have started workshops for school based training. Some secondary teachers have done some interesting action research projects, with enticing titles like ‘stopping students fleeing after tiffin’. Many children do not reappear after the break, as they often work in the fields. One ingenious solution was setting up a committee to fine students 5 rupees (stick not carrot) – but it worked and over 200 rupees was collected and spent on a rubbish bin and broom to keep the classroom clean. Not very Nepali. I watched a group of 100 on Friday eating their tiffin – samosa, gulab jamon and banana – then tossing the cardboard plate, banana skin and other debris over the balcony, out of the window or onto the grass. This was followed by a hearty bout of throat clearing and spitting.

I have been visiting rural schools on the back of Durga’s motorbike. Several days were foggy and damp and we slid along buffalo tracks through fields of rice stubble to rural schools where teachers muffled up in scarves, jackets and woolly hats taught chilly students with ragged shirts and bare feet as water dripped from the tin roof. Poverty seems so much worse in the cold. On the way back from one school, we went to his parents, who have recently sold their land in the village and have bought land and are in the process of having a new house constructed on the outskirts of the city. The ground floor is completed; we found his elderly parents sitting on a pile of rubble on the roof, watching as women toiled up the rudimentary concrete stairs balancing piles of bricks on their heads, while men with makeshift plumblines assembled the bricks for the upstairs walls. Outside were the 2 family cows and a well planted vegetable garden.

By Friday, the sunshine had returned and we had a glorious day in the countryside. We sped along the highway past silent factories and busy brick kilns. The mustard fields are brilliant yellow, amongst wheat, maize and sugarcane. Kingfishers wait patiently on the bamboo overhanging the river. Oxen are ploughing the rice stubble and. women are threshing rice and drying pulses. Every house has its own Monet-like haystack. Eventually we nearly reached Rangeli, where Durga wanted to show me his old wooden house and former school, but there was a banda, with the road blocked by burning tyres, so we walked the last kilometer. We met many teachers from the training programmes, but no teaching was happening as the students were preparing for Saraswati the goddess of education) puja on Saturday. Brightly coloured flags were being strung across the school compound and a ‘temple’ prepared for a clay statue of the goddess. We had passed many of these on the road, being transported by rickshaw and buffalo.

Saturday morning – misty again as we cycled to Bokhari school with Hanna and the boys for their celebration. All the children and staff were there, with many ex-students and people from the local community. Two village bands were playing and local men had brought 3 goats for ritual slaughter by the Hindu priest in banana yellow robes. A classroom had been made into a Saraswati temple and we paraded through to do puja and receive our tikkas. Huge vats of food were being cooked for a village feast, followed by singing and dancing. Tomorrow we will follow the processions to the river where the stautes will be cast into the water. Lovely for all of us to enjoy the festivals while there is no improvement in the political situation. This week even the smugglers have gone on strike and there is no improvement in the power situation, inspite of the PM’s promises.

Next week to Kathmandu and then to India for a long overdue break in Kerala.

Hell's angels in woolly hats

Excitement at the ETC today as a fleet of motorcycles drove onto the field with blue flags waving. About 30 sturdy men in leather jackets and woolly hats with sprouting tops dismounted and headed towards the classrooms. Not menacing – just a delegation from the Teachers’ Union to announce a special meeting tomorrow. Schools will be closed of course. The government announced that all primary teachers who have finished 10 month training but only completed grade 10 at school (GCSE equivalent) must start grade 11-12 starting on Wednesday at 3 schools in Biratnagar. Sessions will run from 3-8pm. Most of the teachers are in rural schools. There has been no transport for over a week and no sign of an end to the dispute – and of course there is never electricity in the evenings.
Meanwhile, the whole of eastern Nepal has been at a standstill for the last two weeks because of protests by workers from the jute mills. Mill owners are unable to meet their wage demands as the mills have not been working properly for months because there is no electricity and no access to Kathmandu. No transport for days, and the border is also closed so no supplies can come from India. There is now no fuel, no gas and a shortage of food and huge losses in customs revenue. Today, according to the newspaper reports ”Agitators pelted themselves with stones”. Further power cuts have started; we are promised a daily ration of electricity from 10pm – 2am (asleep) and 2 – 4 pm (at work). The government maintain it is nothing to do with them and not their problem. We have friends in Kathmandu who live near a minister and have an uninterrupted power supply!
There are some bright spots. Rosie-the-dog is now encased in a cushion cover to protect her from the cold. We are gradually becoming immune to the gas fumes in the small back room. Work is enjoyable and productive for both of us. One highlight this week was while I was working with primary maths teachers, giving instructions in Nepali which Umapati translated into English. An interesting reversal!
Fog again on Sunday, but the afternoon was pleasant enough to tempt us out on our bikes. I have become adept at cycling wrapped in a blanket. We ventured south to the mills area, where we found a thriving community and silent mills. Wandered home through the villages with their collections of mud houses covered in drying dung patties for fuel, women sorting lentils and coming back from the fields with bundles of fodder for the cows outside every small dwelling clad in sacking to keep out the cold. The children are not so lucky, with ragged clothes and no shoes.
Teaching practice started on Tuesday with 93 teachers in 9 local schools. Several group returned to the ETC as the schools had decided to close ‘for the cold’. I visited 2 schools and sat in the sunshine with the teachers. At Balmandir there were 25 teachers and about 40 children present. No teaching occurred. On Magh 1, the second day of teaching practice we celebrated Maghi Parba, the official end of winter with another holiday and a return to glorious sunshine. We celebrated with our first swim for six weeks. Water very cold, but hot sun to dry off in. At Shankapur on Thursday, there were more goats than children in the classrooms.
On Saturday morning when I turned on my phone, there was a message from Umapati, informing me that I was expected at the primary teachers’ picnic, starting at 8am. I telephoned him; the teachers had been trying to contact me since 5am, knowing that I like advance warning of ‘events’. Plans for the morning put on hold and I arrived at the picnic site soon after 10, to find fires blazing, meat roasting, women chopping many kilos of vegetables and most of the men playing cards. The first round of snacks appeared at 11. Handfuls of beaten rice, puffed rice, spicy snacks, fiery vegetable stew, yogurt with a pile of sticky Indian sweets on the top. I managed a small portion, sitting cross legged on an old sack with the women. Lots of laughter and photographs, singing and dancing before the preparations for the main meal started. I escaped to go to market for Saturday shopping. Another adventure on Sunday as we went out for the day with Hanna, Luca (aged 3) and Uta, a young German eye specialist visiting the hospital here before she starts a one year placement in Lahan, 200 km west. We headed north to Dharan and then up to the hills to climb the observation tower on the hill at Bhedeta, where on a clear day there are fantastic views of the Everest range. It was not a clear day. Descended back to Dharan, where Hanna and family are planning to move in April, to look at some houses. One was on the massive site of the BP Koirala Hospital and Medical School. This was the former British Gorkha Military HQ, with large colonial houses, Capability Brown landscaping, a country club and a golf course. Nirvana Country Club had seen better days, but we had a pleasant lunch sitting in the sunshine behind a barbed wire fence looking over the golf course, where cows grazed on scrubby brown grass and a few stout Indian doctors on their afternoon off swung their clubs. Home via the ‘supermarket’ in Itahari.

Christmas and new year

The festive season has been marked here by another increase in load shedding and a lack of water, apart from a flood through the roof in the spare room. The upstairs door has been securely padlocked by the new landlord, so we had no access to find out what was happening. After a frantic hour trying to contact him, he appeared with our friend Dinesh and a plumber, who mended a burst pipe in the upstairs bathroom. Fortunately, there was little damage and David managed to dry out all his carefully prepared teaching materials that are laid out in ordered piles on the spare bed. This was shortly followed by the demise of our gas ring. Ravi’s brother, who spent an hour sitting on our kitchen floor dismantling and reassembling it, covering the marble with a lethal carbon and kerosene mixture, has repaired it.
Christmas Day started foggy and chilly, but a pale sun came through in time for breakfast on the terrace with our splendid dahlias. Schools were closed but I had a busy day training for primary English. ‘Learning English through activities’ is our theme, not without hazards, as most of the group are stout and in their fifties. Chhabilal pulled a muscle as he was ‘running to the board’ to find his word; Laxmi started to have palpitations and refused to ‘jump and down’ any more because of her heart condition. Manju wants to be my best friend. She is the most colourful, with her scarlet polo-necked sweater under a swirly orange and yellow sari, topped off with a fluorescent pink cardigan and an electric blue bobble hat.
Our best present was an invitation to Hanna and Josef’s for a hot bath / shower. Bliss; I had not had a bath since England and our last hot shower was in Kathmandu almost 3 months ago. After a traditional Austrian Christmas Day supper, we sang carols round the tree and exchanged small presents. An enjoyable evening and very dark cycle ride home. Back to Hanna and Josef’s for new year and games and fireworks with the boys. It is difficult for us to reciprocate their hospitality, as we are now confined to the candlelit small backroom to keep warm. The gas fire is working again, but the fumes are so noxious we have to turn it off before we pass out.
We have just embarked on the BBC War and Peace series from the 1970s. The sound and movement are not synchronised, its in a strange sepia tint and has Dutch subtitles. It is so dated – very stagy and overacted. The wigs are extraordinary and resemble the hairstyles of 70s football players. My hair does too, after 3 months without a visit to a hairdresser. We should manage to make the DVDs last until we go to India, as the laptop battery is very tired so we have to watch half an episode at a time.
Further increases in load shedding have started this week. On a good day we have 6 hours of electricity. Government administrative expenditure has increased 8 times since April – mostly on overseas travel for the new regime. The press has become more critical of the new government, and newspapers were interrupted for a few days this week after Maoists smashed newspaper offices and beat up editors. Headlines now focus on the power crisis and government plans to generate more electricity. The latest features plans for wind farms; however ‘the inaccessibility to identified project areas is a major stumbling block’.
Its now the beginning of the kite flying season. Small boys perch precariously on the rooftops with home made kites on the end of huge spools of string. A consignment of cheap badminton rackets has appeared in the market, so children are lashing ‘shuttlecocks’ made from rubber bands around on pieces of waste ground. More dangerously, they are using the railings of the central reservation on the highway coming from the airport as badminton net!

Cold, dry and dark

At 7am on Saturday morning, Babaram sent a text message to David to ask him to do training for ECD facilitators on Monday at the DEO. Text is their primary method of communication, as Babaram refuses to speak English and does not understand David’s Nepali. So on Sunday we set off through the harvested paddy fields and wandering buffalo to Bokari to collect materials. We found the teachers sitting on benches on the field surrounded by children playing. A group of men were standing on the path having a heated discussion. They had brought huge padlocks and secured all the classrooms. An effective lock out. None of the teachers knew why or how long it was likely to continue. A pleasant cycle ride across country took us to Bal Rani, which was open and we were able to borrow Manu the bear, the butterflies and a play box. Other materials David managed to replicate during the afternoon. The government has suddenly changed the visa process and all David’s paperwork has to be redone. The chief of the DEO has been transferred, so there is no-one to sign the new forms. There seems to be the start of removal of pahadis (hill people) from senior government appointments in the Terai, and replacement with madhesi. Two additional days of school closure later in the week for Bakar Id on Tuesday and a local festival on Friday, but the ETC remained open and busy. ETC is devoid of permanent staff; Tulsi has gone to Dhankuta, Umapati is doing Life Skills training in Bangalore and Durga has gone to Laos on a VSO study tour.
Having enjoyed a lovely day on Saturday, with an afternoon at the pool, the fog descended on Sunday and we had our first cold day. It’s the season of goats-in-cardigans and cows covered in old sacks in the mornings. Rani’s milkman, who arrives on his bicycle each morning with fresh milk in old plastic water bottles in a jute bag suspended from his handlebars, now has his head wrapped in a scarf and scarlet leggings under his lungi. Thermals and blankets out from under the bed. A new power station, the second largest in the country, has just been completed; only 4 years behind schedule and at double the projected cost. Local people have prevented it opening because it was behind schedule……. Meanwhile load shedding has increased in length, so it is now 10 to 19 hours a day. Trying to keep computers, phones and emergency lights charged and water pumped is a real challenge, especially as we are usually at work or asleep when the electricity is on. Bread and ice cream making a real problem, and we rarely have an internet connection.
Colin and Ellen, friends from Ethiopia eventually arrived for a few days on Monday, having spent the morning fog-bound at a chilly Kathmandu airport. They are working in an international school in Kathmandu for 6 months and wanted to see a different face of Nepal. When they eventually arrived, we had a wonderful, if cold and foggy, few days. It helped that they had previously lived in Debre Berhan, a small hill town in Ethiopia. We breakfasted and dined by candlelight, survived low pressure cold showers, coped without our usual cheese supply and had a very flexible itinerary caused by transport strikes. We visited the ETC and David’s schools and eventually got to Dharan where the sun was shining and we found roast chestnuts and mushrooms in the market. Women in colourful clothes and elaborate nose jewellery congregate in Dharan from the hills to sell local produce.
On Wednesday we spent the day with Josef and Hanna, who had invited us to visit the eye hospital and see the plans for the new building. The current hospital, which was set up 2 years ago to assess need, is dealing with more than 500 people a day in an old hotel building. Families with bundles of belongings and many blankets were camped out on the grass. There was a steady procession through the different stages of assessment, consultation and treatment, with a sense of calm resignation from the many people waiting patiently. A basic cataract operation with a 2 night stay costs £7, but people who have no money are treated free of charge. After a vision check, patients are referred to technicians who make a preliminary diagnosis; some are referred to opticians and are fitted with glasses for about 50p; others require minor surgery; many have cataracts- one doctor carries out 150 cataract operations in a day; the hospital also does corneal grafts and retinal surgery. What to western eyes looked at first like a refugee camp, provided a highly organised and professional service, with literally hundreds of people having their vision restored each day. Josef has just leased some old portacabins that he is converting into basic dormitories with a toilet block and cooking shelter where families can stay. The wall surrounding the new site has been completed; the plans are ambitious and there are many political challenges ahead.

Winter approaches

The festival season has been replaced by the wedding season. Temple music starts at 4am, well before the imam at 5, often followed by a strident wedding band of drums and trumpets waking the bridegroom in a neighbouring house. The weather is beautiful, with warm sunny days and cool nights. Because it is officially winter, woolly hats, scarves and cardigans are worn by the men and blankets by the women. The air is full of dust; a combination of no rain since we returned in August and the beginnings of road repairs. Huge piles of sand and gravel have been dumped at the sides of the roads, so they now resemble a slalom course. There is room to manoeuvre a bicycle down the road to the ETC, but frequent diversions have to be made for motorcycles and rickshaws.
My month with secondary English teachers has just ended. The group is only 13, so I have got to know them well. Balkumari and Yasoda, the two women have become my special friends; their English is limited to grade 7 level, so they rattle on in Nepali. They are both in their mid thirties; Balkumari has two sons, and Yasoda one daughter. While Yasoda is slim and elegant Balkumari is large and jolly. I have been treated to several views of her Caesarean scars (horrendous). Last week she told me I had very nice teeth and asked me where I had got them! Rama, a retired head who has studied in Leeds and at the Bell language school in Saffron Walden worked with me for a week, which we all enjoyed. She now does community work, watches TV and eats!
Secondary training finished on Monday, with the usual examination, written in incomprehensible English. The paper featured multiple choice questions, very short answer questions, short answer questions and long answer questions. The following question only works for Hindus. ‘How do you convince people who say that English is cow slaughters’ [sic] language?’
I have spent the rest of the week doing primary English with Durga. He has surpassed himself, and we have run an activity based week. Having watched the groups sitting writing for the first 3 weeks, it’s a delight to watch them running around (they are mostly stout and elderly) and giggling. The ‘make a hat for your friend’ activity which teaches reading writing speaking AND listening skills in English reduced me to hysteria, as they wore their new hats over their already eccentric headgear.
The most dramatic incident of the week occurred at tiffin time on Thursday. I was standing on the school field in the sun eating an apple. Gita came over for a chat, leading her young heifer. As we were talking, the heifer mounted her shoulders, cannoning her into me and pinning us both against the wall. We were helpless with laughter and were stuck fast until some excited young schoolboys came to drag the cow off.
Two enjoyable evenings with the Schneiders. The first time we were welcomed by Josef and the boys standing in the road shining torches so we could find the house in the inevitable power cut. Having spent 2 years in a large house with pool in Zimbabwe, they are used to a more typical expat lifestyle, with ‘staff’. Hanna has taught Apsara to make European food as a change from dal bhat, so much to the boys’ delight we had an Austrian meal. They have decided to move to Dharan, near to the hills and forest, where there is a larger expat community, a better school for the boys and Hanna can start an MSc at the medical school. They expect to stay here until March. We were invited again for St Nikolaus Eve, which coincided with my birthday. St Nikolaus arrived laden with presents for the boys, a beautiful winter kurta for me and a chocolate cake from David. The latter caused some problems; he ordered it from the bakery early in the week. On Friday there was fighting between YCL and the youth group of the Marxists, so the whole town was closed. Karna phoned the bakery and David crawled in under the shutters to retrieve the cake.
We are still swimming in the afternoons at weekends, and have started cycle rides out into the countryside on Sundays. Last weekend we discovered a wonderful old Shiva temple in a village near to the Indian border. The entire village assembled to find out who we were and what we were doing; boys stopped flying their kites, girls with smaller siblings on their hips hovered shyly and the women brought their new baby goats to show us. The priest and the head man told us about the temple which is reputedly 2000 years old and the oldest in the area. There is a huge Nandi (Shiva’s bull) and several smaller Nandi shrines, where women were burning incense and anointing him with milk and marigold petals. There’s a large pond in front of the temple for ritual bathing and fishing, as well as for children to play. A gentle pace of rural life, with animals grazing, rice straw being brought in for the winter, new rice being threshed, and all the family working together. We spoke to several young people who dream of getting away for a better education and a different way of life.

Prabodhini Ekadashi

This week was Prabodhini Ekadashi, when Lord Devi is supposed to awaken from a four month sleep. So has the training centre, where we are overwhelmed by training after months of inactivity. Three groups of secondary teachers started on November 2, including an English group that I seem to have overall responsibility for. The notebooks for the trainees are from a new supplier. The usual tasteful Nepali scenes of mountains and temples have been replaced by a series called Classmate. The classmates depicted on the covers are scantily clad lovelies with long blonde hair and names like Avril and Bonny. Rather disturbing, but the teachers seem oblivious.
This week, I have been joined by Bindeshwor and Parmila in the English group. Bindeshwor attended some ‘master trainers’ workshops that I led – and is impressive; probably the best of the part time trainers we have. He arrives at midday, having already taught 5 English lessons in his school, followed by 3 Maths lessons in a private college. His degree is in Science. . Parmila treats the group like a class of 70 grade 9s. Beside her I feel decidedly shabby. She drips with gold jewellery, has a range of beautiful chiffon saris covered in sequins and sparkly high heeled mules. My limited collection of kurtas has suffered from 18 months of washing in Indian detergent and my ‘five-strap’ sandals now have only three. I lead parts of the training every day and am delighted to see a change in the teachers – none of them have worked with a native speaker before; some cannot cope much above grade 7 level, while some of the young ones are studying for masters degrees and are very able. Many of them arrive early in the morning so we can have ‘conversation’ before class starts; it’s wonderful to see their confidence grow. They are now starting to play ‘learning English’ games with relish and lots of laughter and are beginning to realise that their role is helping students learn, rather than delivering the textbook. Let’s hope it transfers to their classrooms.
Many of the 130 primary teachers who arrived on Sunday are elderly men who had hoped to escape training (this is the last year), but they have settled down and seem to be enjoying themselves. There are a few bright eyed young women too. Many are drifting from the 6am classes to 11am, so the later shift is now uncomfortably full. My days are busy, mostly with the English group, but with some input into Science (practical activities that do not require any resources) and primary training.
Meanwhile David is having a wonderful time with Manu the bear, who is now an honorary member of the class, with his own chair and name badge. In both schools, the ECD teacher has been really responsive and loves using the new materials he has made. A delegation from the DEO office has been to watch and he is now inundated with requests. At last!
Chhath was the last of the big festivals and we went to the river with Josef, Hanna and the children. A colourful and enjoyable evening. At home we are beset by a plague of grasshoppers, ranging in size from barely visible to chunky ones suitable for coating in chocolate. They are worst when the power goes off, when they flock to our emergency fluorescent lamp. At night they entertain themselves by jumping all over us and especially enjoy wandering through our hair. Perhaps they think its grass. David hoovers furiously each morning to get rid of the dead bodies. Especially important today as Josef and Hanna are coming for supper.

Work and play

A warm welcome back at work, especially as I brought information about VSO Link Tour for selected education partners to spend a week in Laos, looking at developments in teacher training and primary education. Durga and I prepared an application for him. Lots of enthusiasm for a ‘Training of Trainers’ day, to prepare for the next batch of training that will start on November 2. Very good training day on Friday – like the first day of term, when everyone comes back together and exchanges news. Good session, mostly led by Durga and Umapati. On Monday we repeated the exercise for the primary trainers; 130 primary teachers will arrive on November 9. After 4 months with no real work, we are overstretched and will run 3 groups from 6 – 11am and 4 groups from 11-4, with no days off. Many trainers will work both shifts.
David had a wonderful week focusing on ECD, with lots of story telling and play. He has produced some lovely materials that Shova is now using effectively and producing materials of her own. The children are responding so well and making great progress. On his days off this week he has used the ETC’s projector to help him produce huge animal pictures on chart paper from VSO using images from the internet.
Holiday mood has overwhelmed us again with preparations for Tihar. The market on Sunday was full of brightly coloured decorations, people stocking up on dried fruit and nuts – dates, sultanas, coconut, cashews, pistachios, walnuts, almonds, and buying thousands of small clay pots to make oil lamps. Many of the stall holders were painting their stalls and plastic covers. I bought green splattered carrots and yellow spotted aubergines. . A sudden change in the weather on Monday when moist clouds arrived from the Bay of Bengal and the temperature plummeted to 26oC, and we got out our winter clothes! Tihar dawned chilly and grey, but by the time we went to the market to see the banana trees placed outside the shops and the decorations on the sides of the street, the sun was out. Dogs and cows were adorned with garlands and brightly coloured tikka powder – mostly fuschia pink and turquoise. Abi has given Rosie (the dog – now a firm friend – no more yipping) a hair cut. Rani is having garden makeover.
A rare social event in the afternoon – last week we met Josef, Hanna and their 3 boys, aged 7,5 and 3, at the pool. He is an Austrian architect and is here for 4 years as project manager of the new eye hospital, which will be the second largest in the world! We were invited for tea – a delightful family in a beautiful house to the south of the city. We have decided to have a social life at last. In the evening we went back to the market to see the lights – of course there was a power cut; the gaudy electric bulbs went off so it was lit by thousands of beautiful oil lamps. Great cheers when power restored and the loudspeakers could start blaring out music again. Arrived home to find the family about to start their fireworks. A lavish display was put on with life threating enthusiasm by Abi, Ram (the driver and odd job man),and Karna, who had the time of his life. The box of 100 Chinese bombs was particularly terrifying. Pyel and Rani provided delicious snacks. Loud bangs and a flashing sky persisted until after midnight. Like living in a war zone.
The landlord has sold the house with us in it and is moving out on Saturday. Apparently the new owners will arrive ‘soon’ and move into our flat when we leave in March. This leaves Karna homeless. We have been to look at a number of rat-infested rooms with him, and have found a clean room with small kitchen and access to bathroom with a nice family a few houses away. Good to have him nearby so he can continue to learn to use the computer and practice his English.
Swimming with our Austrian friends on Wednesday; we were joined by Iris, a German eye surgeon, who arrived about the same time as us. All have worked in Africa before (Zimbabwe, Cameroon, Kenya), and are finding Biratnagar much more challenging. Candlelit evening with Durga and his daughters, with a profusion of sticky sweets before the dal bhat, and invitation to stay the night. We braved the firecrackers in the streets on our bicycles – at least there was more light than usual.