My Students My Teachers

Let me proudly introduce you to my students.

The oldest, Rekha, who just finished school and would like to become a flight attendant. Confident, ambitious, aware, pretty much today’s woman. The only thing that’s holding her back is her (lack of) fluency in spoken English and the inability to acquire funds for her training school.

The next oldest, Neha, in her tenth year of school. Shy, conservative and completely the opposite of Rekha. Will probably get married by the time she’s out of her teens.

Manoj, who’s the same age as Neha. Crazy about Bollywood music, good in sports and loves clothes. I bet he dreams of growing up to be a movie star.

At fourteen, the next oldest, Tekchand a.k.a Teku, the sweetest and simplest of the lot. Completely clueless about schoolwork and can barely read either the English or Hindi alphabet. However, an excellent cook and the most sincere worker at home.

Little Vedchand, age twelve, looks eight, who completely hero-worships me. He’s always looking for ways to please me, has been trying the hardest to learn English, gets shouted at the most but is definitely the teacher’s pet!

Rohit in class/grade four, terrible speller, couldn’t care less about school, frivolous, loves to run around the hills, pick flowers, shoo the monkeys, anything that could get him away from his books.

Little Neha nicknamed Nani the female version of Pig-Pen, has a cloud of dirt and dust follow her wherever she goes. She’s a little monkey, cute as a button, climbs everything that comes in her way. Thinks studying equals memorizing.

Lastly, Lokesh, the six-year-old brat! The brightest in the bunch with amazing comic timing and a smile that would melt anyone’s heart. Undoubtedly everybody’s pet.

Teaching children is a much more challenging task than I had expected. And as I write this I can almost picture some of you thinking ‘I told you so’! Having said that, I’m completely up for this challenge although I also know that there are limitations to how much of an impact I can make in less than three months. I’ll probably be greyer and balder by the time I’m done, but if I can influence even one of them to become a better student, the hair transformation may be worth it!

So while I teach them English, Math and Hindi, I want to throw a question to the readers of this piece. Have you ever tried teaching English or Math using Hindi as a medium of education? Are YOU up for the challenge? I bet not! Until now I never realized that I could barely complete a sentence in Hindi without throwing in a word or two of English. I see the children getting a kick out of me struggling, desperately trying to translate from English to Hindi and getting tongue-tied. It’s embarrassing but at least I’m learning. So what if the teachers happen to be my students?

Additionally, my students are also teaching me:

That a samosa and a cup of tea is a treat. Maggie noodles are an even bigger treat and chow mein and momo’s from a Tibetan street vendor are the ultimate happiness-giver!

That a Rs. 500 ($10) cricket bat can bring so much joy and definitely beats playing with a stick.

That going to Shimla, which is a little over an hour away by bus, is a bigger event than me traveling overseas.

That an indigenous MP3 player can be called an I-Pod and be one's most prized possession.

That one can have a birthday party without a cake, without presents (except for the ones I bring), no new clothes, no party favors, no games, but still be a joyous celebration with balloons, Maggie noodles and paneer (cottage cheese) sandwiches.

That birthdays don't really get celebrated (until after I got here).

That one doesn’t need washers and dryers. Each one wash and line-dry your own clothes for crying out loud!

There are very few disappointments.

Whining is worth nothing.

When you fall down running around in the farm, it’s okay that there’s usually no one around to pick you up.

That even when it's freezing, its not 'too cold' or when the sun is scorching down during their 30 minute walk back from school, it isn't 'too hot'. Or a 30 minute walk to school isn't 'too long'.

And so on ....

These children have become such an integral part of my life. Everyday I feel a little more humbled and hope that I can repay them by teaching them things that can be learned from a book in return for the lessons that I’m learning from their lives.

The Incidental Tourist

I’ve been traveling across Himachal Pradesh which is a completely mountainous region for about a month now. Besides the amazingly picturesque places I've been to, I really enjoy the people that I’ve been coming across. Here’s a glimpse at the most memorable of them …

‘Brian the thirty-something-babe-magnet’ at Jimmy Johnson’s café, Manali, who had an audience of two guys who looked like they were in their early twenties from Canada and England. Actually Brian’s audience was the entire place because it seemed like he had a microphone installed in his throat – the acoustics didn’t have to be very good for his voice to reach every corner of the café.
So we all found out that both Brian and his sister are serial-daters. The last woman he dated was a sweetheart but terribly boring. Brian loves the outdoors and traveling to foreign countries, camping, trekking etc. While all she wanted to do was lay on the beach on vacation. If she hadn’t been such an amazing cook he would have left her much sooner and if they’re both still single when he’s 60, then he’ll probably marry her (I’m sure she’ll take her chances and stay single for Brian).
Just before he left the US for his travels, he met this 29-year-old high school teacher who wears long dresses and sometimes no underwear. She’d asked him to be his date at the school prom coming up in April. He was also told that he would have to be at his best gentlemanly behavior around the kids but of course she would make up for it later. Good thing that she made that clear – the babe magnet now has something to look forward to.
And the reason I know his name is that he often quoted people during his conversation. For example his dad said “Brian, this last girl you brought home seems perfect for you”. Which is when Brian knew that the time had come to dump her.

‘Rakesh, the life-saver’ drove three of us in a van that seats nine from Manali to McLeod Ganj. Since the drive was an all-nighter I was afraid that Rakesh would doze off at the wheel if the rest of us did. So I kept him engaged in conversation and listened to his stories. The most interesting one was about an American tourist who he drove around in his jeep across various locations in the Himalayas. When they got to some higher points in Ladakh (over 13,000 feet) she passed out as a result of altitude sickness. With the help of some local tribals they were able to revive her but due to the thin air and lack of oxygen she kept going back into a state of unconsciousness. With great difficulty he brought her back to a lower altitude and was by her side until she recovered completely. She was so overwhelmed with his dedication that she proposed marriage to him, which he didn’t accept. Mein mem se shaadi kaise karta – mujhe to English bhi theek se nahin aati (how could I marry a Western woman – I can barely speak English). I found his innocence and simplicity both refreshing and touching.

I mentioned that there were three of us traveling in the van. The other two were Vishvan, my nephew and Keren, a young woman from Israel. Rakesh, our driver, was extremely concerned that the two studs in the van (my nephew and I) would try to take advantage of Keren, which he confessed to me when we stopped for dinner. He was so upset about having such tainted thoughts about us nice guys that he stopped later at a temple to ask for forgiveness!

Keren, the woman we had the opportunity to take advantage of but didn’t, had been traveling across the Northern part of India for about a month and was going to stay until the middle of April. She kept talking about how sad she was that she had to go back and that she wished that she could be here forever. She worked for an insurance company and her boss kept calling her every other day to find out when she was returning. Which made me think that either she must be really good at her job or that she must be really good. We kept bumping into her during our days in McLeod Ganj. She wanted to marry me once she found out that I had a U.S. passport. Of course, she was just kidding. Right?

The hypochondriac animated American girl sitting at the next table at the organic café in McLeod Ganj who had irregular menstrual cycles. Except when she had lived with a guy for a brief time and guesses that having a man around was what helped (I assume she meant having regular sex and in retrospect am surprised that she didn’t just come out and say it)! She had tried regular medication, homeopathy and acupuncture with limited success. Now she was in McLeod Ganj doing a course in Yoga. What amused me most was the level of detail she went into when describing her problem and every treatment she had undergone and also the fact that she was so nonchalant about the entire café being privy to what I consider to be quite a private matter. I wanted to go up to her and say ‘find another man’.

Her Asian-American friend who actually seemed interested!

The nerd-English couple Vishvan and I struck up a conversation with at our favorite restaurant in McLeod Ganj called Oogos. They had ordered double stack pancakes, which were the largest pancakes I had ever seen. They didn’t belong in McLeod Ganj where all the Western tourists looked like they had just rolled out of bed, hadn’t showered in quite a while, didn’t look like they could possibly have ever been employed, wore ill-fitted clothes and had a travel-weary look on their faces. Instead these two (I’ve completely forgotten their names) were a doctor and a scientist, wore clean designer clothes, looked freshly showered, smelt nice (our tables were really close) etc. In other words they stuck out like a sore thumb. Minorities like us (Indians) in McLeod Ganj. They’d been traveling for six months – first to South America and then to India. Their favorite place was Peru and Dharamshala was definitely the ‘most interesting’.
I didn’t ask them to explain. Some things are best left to the imagination.

The couple from New York who I met at a book store. Had a question that I knew the answer to. They were in McLeod Ganj for an advanced Yoga class. Good looking and unfriendly. Brought back memories …..