The Mountain I Climb Every Day

My first three months here have been a whirlwind of adjustment.  I have started a new life in a foreign country.  I have put together a new Indian wardrobe, I have obtained and set up a house, I have pieced together a group of friends and family, and I began a new job.  It has been exciting, challenging and overwhelming but finally, I am in a place where my daily life is almost normal. And my eyes have opened to the realities of India.

Until now, I have focused on sharing the events of my adjustments because as with all stories, it is essential to create the setting and provide the basic background information.  But now, I think I should go into my real purpose here- my job.  As you may already know, I am working for the Nanubhai Education Foundation.  I am teaching English classes (8^th and 9^th grade), as well as a more intensive Spoken English classes to select students.  In addition, I am mentoring and training a recent college graduate, Ameetaben.  Throughout the year, I will coach her and she will begin taking over the classes I teach and in the process, I will observe and evaluate her performance.  Furthermore, I will implement several seminars and workshops for local English teachers.  Lastly, I am conducting research within the village that will hopefully assist the Foundation in future programs and projects.  My main goal is to give these village students a better English education so they can strive for better futures and overcome poverty.  Needless to say, my days are full and busy.  On most days, I face an uphill battle.

Madhi High School is a Gujarati-medium school.  What this means is that the students are taught all subjects in their native language, Gujarati, a variation of Hindi.  You are probably thinking all subjects, except English, right?  I only wish that were the case.  In fact, many of the other English teachers teach English in Gujarati.  The textbook is written in English, but the teachers will translate the story so the students can understand.  So in a give 45-minute English period, the students may not hear or speak  a single word in English.  When I realized this, I was appalled.  Why am I here? How on earth are my students going to understand me?  My Hindi skills are still in the beginner’s stages at best.  (There is currently a rumour circulating the village that I have a four year-old illegitimate son, Andrew, because I was trying to describe my family and accidently used the wrong word for nephew.)  I have not begun to broach the topic of Gujarati.  Thus, I was instantly overwhelmed and disheartened. 

Thankfully, I have Ameetaben.  While I still personally find it hard to believe, everyone here says it is beneficial that I am here because at least my students are forced to learn in English.  And when they don’t understand- only when necessary- Ameetaben translates for me.  We are in the process of smoothing out our classroom system.  We are attempting to use as little Gujarati as possible, which makes for a long 45-minute period often filled with eighty or so blank or puzzled faces staring up at me.  And that is a whole other hindrance in my job.  My classes are extremely over-sized.  I have between eighty and ninety students of completely different backgrounds and skill sets jammed into a tiny, fan-less dilapidated classroom.  

And the absolute icing on the cake, the cherry on top of it all, is the English textbook I am forced to use.  Each unit consists of a ridiculous story with at least fifteen grammar errors and ten or more spelling errors, overly advanced comprehension questions, and a few assignments.  There are few or no grammar lessons.  The stories are confusing and poorly written and the students never understand them.  I have to define and explain almost every other word, which Ameetaben then translates into Gujarati.  The Ministry of Education in Gujarat mandates that students learn this textbook.  They must know each story inside and out because on the examinations, they must regurgitate the facts and details from each unit.  Yes, they have to memorize the characters, the vocabulary words and the main plot of the story because all questions on the exams are taken directly from the units in the textbook.  Creativity and abstract thinking are foreign concepts that my students have never come in contact with.  My last two and half years in Malawi, at Chaminade Secondary School seem like a dream in which I was able to develop my own English curriculum and my students regularly used their inspiring creativity to write poetry, short stories and even novels.  I long for the days when I graded seventy short stories, each unique and entertaining in its own way.  Sigh.  I know my students have the ability to express themselves creatively.  They just aren’t given the outlet to do so.  Suddenly, I appreciate the countless teachers I had growing up who flooded me with opportunities to think for myself and convey my thoughts creatively.

Please don’t take my words as complaints.  It is only the truth of the matter.  And while it frustrates me to no end, I will do whatever I can do to break through this system.  I will teach them what they need to know but I will do so creatively.  I want them to learn the information instead of merely memorizing it.  It will be anything but easy but I’ll do what I can.  That’s why I am here.  And I am grateful for my Spoken English classes in which I can work with a smaller group of students, using my own resources and activities.  As with everything here, it is a challenge, but one I aiming to overcome.   

And don’t get me wrong.  My students are fantastic.  They work so unbelievably hard.  Before and after school every day, they take supplementary private classes with teachers in the village.  They forgo sports, clubs and a social life to get extra tutoring.  It is inspiring how hard they work.  And they make my countless frustrations and obstacles worth it.  They make me laugh all the time.  A few weeks ago, during Spoken English, they were writing their autobiographies, simple stories about themselves and their families and friends, probably at the level of a fourth or fifth grader in the U.S.  I brought in my iPod and speakers so they could listen to music while they worked at their desks.  They were requesting “Waka Waka” and “Wavin’ Flag” and a few other current favourite songs.  Suddenly, Nirmal, one of most hard working, soft-spoken boys, spoke up, “Emily Teacher, can you please play ‘Sexy Bitch’?”  As he finished his question, the class grew quiet and then erupted in laughter at his request.  I couldn’t be angry because that’s the name of the song! I could only laugh, too. 

A few weeks ago, I celebrated my birthday and my students surprised me with a small birthday party and countless gifts of Indian knickknacks and jewellery.  They were so excited to present me with their neatly wrapped tokens of appreciation.  Another week, I had a terrible cold and every day for a whole week, my student, Rahul, brought me Vick’s Cough Drops.  They are genuinely sweet and considerate kids and would do anything to please their foreign teacher.  So, while this year is going to take serious concentration and endless energy, it is all worth it.  These students deserve the best.  But I will say it would be a whole lot easier if Gujarat was not a dry state and I could end my weeks with a nice, relaxing happy hour!