Media Circus

Dear dedicated reader,

Today a student asked me for my autograph.

I have achieved the status of a minor celebrity here. In order to understand how this has happened, I need to fill you in on the media circus that Kadod High School has become in such a short period of time.

The same afternoon that Z-news came to film my class, another set of reporters arrived to interview us in our home. The next day, more arrived, this time in the middle of my 9D class. I was just coming to the home stretch of an activity that I had put a lot of effort into setting up when the principal arrived at my door.

“These men are wanting to film your class,” he said as he gestured for the men to come in and begin setting up.

“That’s…wonderful,” was all I could really say. And it is. The press will be very good for the Foundation and for the school. “Should I just…keep teaching?”

“Yes, yes,” the principal said with a wave of his hand.

I started to continue, but I was stopped by an anxious camera man who told me to stop the activity (a small play that the students were about to perform). He gave me the 9th standard English textbook to hold in my hand with the title prominently displayed and then indicated that I should continue. I felt as though someone should be feeding me lines since apparently the rest of me was open for puppetry. The principal intervened.

“Simply ask the students some simple questions. Simple, and repeat if they don’t understand,” he directed.

The show must go on, I thought. I obliged with some simple questions about the text. The bell rang. Again, the students looked as if they wanted to bolt, but had to sit tight through an entire period of this dog and pony show. The cameramen instructed me to stop teaching and thrust the book at Melissa, newly come from the US only the day before, and instructed her to teach. I must say, having no preparation or any idea what we were doing, she did an admirable job. The students, probably bored to tears by questions about a story we had been discussing for a week, half-heartedly raised their hands.

By the end of the school, the men must have gotten what they wanted because after taking a short personal interview with me and a few students, they left. Last night, I watched two separate airings of myself teaching on the principal’s TV, and another today. This morning, the principal excitedly handed me an article in Gujarati with a large picture of myself teaching my 9C class. All day, students have been saying ‘Teacher, teacher!” and producing out of their pockets folded versions of this same article.

I approached the Ladies’ Staff Room with some apprehension this afternoon. After so much attention, how would they treat me? They have been at the school for years and I have been here only one week. How would they feel about this special treatment? I went in and tried to act normal. They noticed me immediately and the article was summarily placed in front of me. “You are in the paper,” they said generously.

“Yes, oh wow,” I said awkwardly. They smiled, but kept their distance.

Suddenly, two men burst into the room accompanied by the school computer teacher, Dhirinbhai. One came striding up to me and introduced himself, “My name is Hitesh,” he said, “and I’m a reporter. I was wondering if I could talk to you?” He looked around at the surprised teachers’ faces. “Maybe someplace else?”

Oh god. “Uh, yes, that would be fine. Why don’t we go to my house?” Oh god.

At the house, he conducted a strained interview with Vinesha (a newly arrived summer intern), Priya and myself. “So, 50 years ago, they kicked you out of the country,” he said. “And now you are back. How are you feeling?”

“Well… I’m not British,” I said slowly.

“Uh, er, yes,” he replied. “But, uh, you see, foreigners were expelled from this place 50 years ago. And now, you, foreigner, are back. How is that feeling?”

“Um, everyone has been, uh, really welcoming… so…” I didn’t know what to say. The rest of the interview continued in this fashion. After he was satisfied, he thanked us and excused himself. We had just begun to unwind and laugh to ourselves about how ridiculous this was becoming when a peon was at the door saying that ‘Sir’ was asking for us.

Sitting in the principal’s office, he related excitedly that The Indian Express, the newspaper that we read everyday in our house, had called and also was wanting to talk with me if I was willing. I wasn’t really in a position to refuse, so the Principal dialed up “Kumaal” and put me on the phone.

“Hello Ma’am!” the voice on the other end of the line chirped cheerfully.

“Hello…” I said, uneasily. These interviews and their potential for backlash were really doing a number on my confidence level. What if I say the wrong thing?

“So, you are being paid to teach here in India?” He asked.

A thought suddenly crossed my mind as I slowly said, “Yeees.” What if the Indian INS realizes that I am here working when I’m only supposed to be here on a tourist visa visiting friends? Am I going to be deported?

“And how much is that salary?”

What is it with this question? “Um, as much as an Indian teacher makes.”

“In US dollars, you are making how much?”

“I’d really rather not say…”

There was laughing on the other end of the line. “Okay, okay…”

Eventually it was over and the only remaining instruction was that someone was to take a picture of me teaching and e-mail it to him this afternoon. Dhirinbhai took charge of this and yet another one of my classes was documented real time in order to achieve the perfect visual accompaniment for the story.

I am unable to go anywhere in town without someone saying to me in Hindi “I saw you on TV!” Or “Look ma’am, you are in the paper.”

During our spoken English classes, two students slyly tried to get me to autograph their notebooks. “Why do you want my signature?” I asked them pointedly.

“Because, ma’am, you are our teacher.” Oh Lord. This must end soon.

Best,
Cat

P.S. Here is a link the the Indian Express article. Please note that I said none of the things I am quoted as saying! Also, they've confused Melissa with Vinesha and lumped them as one person. http://www.expressindia.com/latest-news/From-US-with-love-Tribal-students-in-Surat-village-get-teachers-from-America/325122/

P.P.S. Here is a link to a second article. In this, my name is, apparently, Kathreen Viddle. http://www.mynews.in/fullstory.aspx?storyid=6207