Z-News comes to Kadod

Dear dedicated reader,

Today I was, no joke, interviewed by National Indian news.

The principal had, with a very excited manner for someone usually so formal, informed me a few days ago that this might happen. I had no idea what a tamasha (spectacle) it would be.

I was sitting happily in the guesthouse after my 3rd period class with 9D when a peon (this is truly what the school calls these men!) was dispatched to my house and I was told that “Sir” wanted to see me.

With some foreboding I followed the man across the courtyard to the principal’s office. I thought perhaps word that my 3rd period class had been a little rowdy had somehow gotten back to the principal, though how this would have happened was beyond me. Instead, when I arrived I found it to be full of men. One slightly chubby man with a mullet introduced himself as a reporter for Z-News.

“You have heard of Z-News?” He asked me, expectantly.

I obliged. “Oh yes,” I replied enthusiastically. “When I was living in Delhi.” He nodded with satisfaction.

The principal said to me in his stop and start English, “These men are here –“ He was interrupted by the reporter.

“Listen, we are here because we are hearing that now Americans are coming to poor public schools to teach English and we want to broadcast this nationally, okay?”

I didn’t realize he wanted a response until I saw his face. “Oh fine,” I said, nodding. “Yes, that’s wonderful.”

The principal valiantly tried to continue, “These men will come –“

Again, he was interrupted, this time by a man in matching denim shirt and pants. “We are going to come film your class, okay?”

“9C,” the principal added assertively.

They looked at me. “Great, wonderful,” I said again, not really knowing exactly what to say. I knew this was an incredibly big deal for not just Kadod High School but for the Foundation as well and I wanted to be obliging.

The principal added, “So, now we will go to 9C.” I was confused; I wasn’t supposed to take that class until 5th period, over an hour from now with a lunchtime for students to go home inbetween.

“So, I will teach them…now?” I asked.

“Yes, we’ll bring the book and the chalk and eraser. Go there now,” he said.

“But my lesson plan is in the house…” I pleaded.

He looked perturbed. “You may get it but, uh, make haste!” he said. I nodded vigorously and was off.

When I returned, I met them with my materials at the door to the 9C classroom, easily the dingiest of the classrooms that I teach in. What better tableau, I thought, for them to paint their story on.

There was of course much ado over the set up. First, the teacher whose period it really was had to be unceremoniously kicked out of his class. I looked at him apologetically and he glared back; I am making no friends on the staff, it would seem. Then they had to plug into the outlet, which in typical fashion was not working. So a power cord had to be run from the computer lab across the courtyard to the classroom. Then they had to shift some of the benches so that they could adequately get in the cameras to film me teaching. The students were laughing quietly amongst themselves until finally they told me I could begin.

I had no idea if I was teach my whole lesson or only a part, so I decided to just proceed as normally as possible. I began with the same three questions I always ask. “What is the date today?” “What is the day of the week?” “What is the weather?” Hands shot up all around the room. Let the TV cameras come every day, I thought blithely.

I asked them to take out their homework. This was the first assignment I had given them and I could see from some of their faces who didn’t have it. I saved them the embarrassment that I had given some students in an earlier class by asking for volunteers to give me each answer, rather than calling on people at random. I knew that the cameras were especially looking to see if the students could understand me and I them, so I tried to make sure that my pronunciation was clear. Jagrutiben was not here today; her husband was sick so she was home with him and I was on my own.

As I moved around the classroom like I normally do, I had to dodge the cameras that would duck in front of the blackboard just as I wanted to write something. They kept going for artistic angles, like through two students or up from the floor. With the cinematic acrobatics they were performing it was hard to keep the students focused on the front, so I tried to call on as many people as possible to participate in the lesson. In the middle, the bell rang for lunch, and the students looked at me pleadingly. I tried to convey with my eyes that I was as trapped by the situation as they were.

After some time, the TV men interrupted my teaching with “Bas,” (enough). I confusedly stopped in the middle of an activity and awaited further instruction. There was some rearrangement of the furniture at the front of the room and I was instructed to sit with the students as my backdrop. Three microphones were held in front of my face and I was shown the questions that I would be asked which were the following:

What is your good name?
How have you decided to come to India?
How are you finding the differences between Indian education and US education?
What do you think is the IQ of the Indian student?
India is known for yoga, meditation. What are you thinking?
India is becoming superpower in a few years. Are Americans scared?
What are you thinking about Indian food? Is it spicy?

This was apparently enough for them. I answered as neutrally as I could, making sure to say good things about all Indian students and the education system. The last thing I want is death threats from Indian nationalists or a letter of termination from the Foundation, which I made sure to mention.

After they finished with me, they asked the students who could speak Hindi and from these 5 were picked. For some reason, I was allowed to stay while the students were being interviewed. They asked them how they understood me and all said they were finding me to be a very good teacher. What else could they say, with the principal, myself and 10 newsmen in the room?

After this, the class was finally dismissed, after having missed the entirety of their lunch period. I felt terrible, but luckily I have them right after lunch, so they were able to take this time to eat. I apologized to them though they seemed quite pleased with their 15 minutes of fame.

It should air next week. Hopefully it won’t have been edited with me saying I’m a sex maniac or some such thing.

Best,
Cat