My First Day of School

Dear dedicated reader,

Today I took my first class at the school.

All day, I paced the guesthouse, anxiously waiting for 5th period to come when I was to take the 9C section. I am taking Melissa’s classes this week until she comes, teaching all four 9th standard sections, 60 students each. Periodically throughout the day, the two computer teachers who look to be about our age, Dhirinbhai and Nitinburanbhai, came by to set up our internet and to check on us. When it finally came time to take my first class, Dhirinbhai came by with an umbrella to usher Priya and myself to the 9C room.

In India, the students do not change classrooms; the teachers do. So, when I walked in, all of the students were already sitting there, crammed into their desks. I was surprised; it was a co-ed class, with girls in neat blue tunics and white shirts on one side, and boys in khaki pants and white button downs on the other. They sat 3 or 4 to a bench, looking squished and curious. They all stood as I entered, which is customary. I put down my lesson plan on the table provided and my portable radioshack clock so I could time my activities.

“Good afternoon,” I said to them loudly. They looked at me, confused, still standing. I motioned for them to sit.

Dhirinbhai jumped in. He explained quickly in Gujarati, “This is Ms. Cat and Ms. Priya. They are here from US to teach you.” Then, he left.

Sixty faces looked up at me expectantly.

“Please repeat,” I insisted. “Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon,” was repeated in a mixed, half-hearted chorus of voices. I looked over the students. They seemed so young. Some were as small as the smallest sixth graders I had taught at the Gavin.

“How, uh, old are you?” I asked.

“15,” the chorus replied. Unbelievable, I thought to myself. There was a lot of random giggling as the students continued to eye me, sizing me up.

I introduced myself as Miss Biddle. I made them repeat this a number of times, which led to more giggling. When I went to write this on the board, I turned to see it covered in Gujarati script, but with no eraser and no chalk. I cringed. My whole lesson had been based around having these two items.

Priya saw me falter and quickly went out in the hall to see if Dhirinbhai could get these items.

When she returned, Principal Mahida was with her. The students immediately JUMPED to their feet and a loud chorus of “Good afternoon, Mahidasir,” could be heard.

He addressed them sternly in Gujarati for 2 or 3 minutes. I stood by, shifting my weight, hoping the students couldn’t see that I had no absolutely no idea what he was saying. He turned to me after he finished and explained that he had told them that they were very fortunate to have teacher from America here to teach them and that they should be very good and cause no problems and learn English well. I have a feeling there were two or three threats thrown in there that he did not translate for me.

After he left, I was again faced with sixty expectant faces. What to do?

I started to explain that if they want to ask a question, they need only raise their hand. They looked at me blankly, some said “yes ma’am.” I started in again uneasily, explaining that if they did not understand, they could ask me to repeat. More stares.

Finally, I said in Hindi, “You all speak Hindi?”

There were many smiles and a resounding chorus of “Ha-ji” (yes, miss).

I laughed. “All right,” I said in Hindi, “I have been told by Mahidasir that this is the smartest class. I don’t speak Gujarati and only a little Hindi, so in my class, only English will be spoken. Understand?”

They nodded. I added, in English, “You will learn better that way.”

I erased the board and proceeded to set up the activity that I had planned. I made a list of question words, a list of verbs and a list of nouns (such as father, mother, brother, sister, India, USA, movie). I explained that I wanted the students to take words from each list and make questions to ask me and Ms. Priya. I had Ms. Priya do an example. The students looked at me uneasily.

I waited. There were some mutters as the students read through the list to themselves or to their neighbor. The silence paid off. The smallest boy in the class, sitting in the front row, raised his hand. I signaled that he should stand.

“Whatisyourfather?” He said quickly and sat back down. I tried not to let my confusion show on my face.

“You mean, what job does my father have?” I asked him.

He looked embarrassed. Oh no, I thought. I’ve just ruined any chance that anyone will want to participate. I quickly continued. “My father is a lawyer.” I said. Then in Hindi, I asked “You understand?”

There were nods and murmurs of “wakil” which is Hindi for lawyer. “Exactly,” I said. I looked at the small boy. “Very good, thank you.” This, apparently, was funny, because there were again scattered giggles.

I waited again. This time a girl raised her hand. She asked me another question, where in the USA we were from. I drew a picture on the board to show them where Nebraska and Philadelphia are.

I waited again. Slowly, some more questions. One boy at the back asked me, “What ees your favorite mowie?”

“Well,” I said thoughtfully, “I like Indian movies. I think, Kabhi Kushi Kabhi Gham.” This made the room erupt in hysterical laughter as they contemplated my watching an Indian film.

The students liked talking about favorites, and so I wrote “My favorite _____ is ______” on the board. They were too fond of giving one word answers, so I hoped to make them speak in complete sentences.

I wrote “animal” on the board, and all of a sudden, the room was filled with the sound of different animal names in English. Lots of the students wanted to participate in naming different animals. My personal favorite was the student who got up and said, “My favorite animal is a Peeeeg.” At first, I could not understand what he was saying until another student shouted at me, “PEEEEEEEG!”

“Oh, Pig!” I said, chuckling. My American pronunciation, I had been told, would be my downfall.

By the time the class was over, we had talked about favorite subjects, favorite colors, favorite movies, favorite actors and actresses. The bell rang and the students jumped to their feet. I was startled and didn’t know exactly what to do.

“I guess I leave now,” I said, unsure.

“Yes,” they said, smiling.

“Okay. See you tomorrow,” I said casually, gathering my things. “Uh, bye.” Not the most powerful of exits.

Outside, I had to take a deep breath. Only two more classes to go for the day. And 52 more weeks in the year.

Best,
Cat