Dear dedicated reader,
Whenever I embark on accomplishing something here, I have come to regard unexpected, unanticipated or just plain unwelcome obstacles as merely a matter of course. The seemingly simple matter of photocopying a few pages requires the principal’s signature and the (uncharacteristic) functioning of the photocopier; finding a classroom for before school Spoken English means apparently working around the early morning cleaning schedule of the school peons; getting our modem fixed means waiting days or even (at this point) weeks.
To all of this I am accustomed and my helplessness in the face of these things does wonders for relaxing my attitude about them. I have shelved my American sense of absolute efficiency in favor of an attitude which believes that everything will happen the way it will happen in its own time and I, buffeted in the waves, will merely paddle with the current. In fact, in this respect I believed myself to be unflappable.
Perhaps by karma itself, I find that my hubris has been called out: I must admit that the circumstances I am about to relate have genuinely surprised even me.
Some context: Upcoming is the Diwali vacation, a three week holiday that happens in the middle of the second trimester. It provides a nice ellipsis after the constant pressure of exams and the almost holiday-less teaching schedule of June, July and August. It is akin to the Winter Break of American schools, only it is longer, lasting three weeks instead of one and a half.
Melissa and I, anticipating that this break would be one of our few opportunities to really travel and see the country (as well as fulfill our visa-created obligation to exit the country after 180 days and re-enter again), began planning our break back in the beginning of September. Train schedules were pored over, American friends were coordinated with, hotels were contacted, tickets were bought and the details were finalized. With only ten days to go until our break, our excitement has been building as the final itinerary pieces have fallen into place.
All of this came to a halt the other day when we were summarily informed that the Diwali holiday, scheduled to begin on October 18th, has been moved to “the 25th or the 27th…”
“Which is it?” We asked. The bearer of the news was unsure.
Melissa and I pondered this quietly for a moment. I, usually hesitant to swear, couldn’t help but feel that the phrase, “WTF?” was appropriate and used it quite freely on this occasion talking in the fast, overly exaggerated American accent that I use when I want to make sure that no one around us will understand what I am saying.
“But, how did this happen?” We asked Tabussum, our co-teacher.
“They wanted to make the schedule for the schools the same,” she replied hesitantly, sensing that we were feeling slightly distressed. “So the university schedule and the schools would have the same holiday and then all the students are being on holiday at the same time…”
“Who’s brilliant idea was this?” I asked with a resigned, only semi-sarcastic smile.
“The government of
Ah yes, I thought and for a moment I had a brief image in my head of the crowded, paper filled desk of the Gujarat Education Minister – stamps and paper weights to keep documents from flying away under the powerful Indian variety fans (quite unlike our wimpy American window fans). Buried under all of this, hidden away perhaps under the shelved bill to allow students to bring their textbooks into their exams, is the resolution to change the vacations. Cleaning out some papers, he finds it and, after a pause, realizes he should probably take action soon as the holiday is set to begin in a few days. He hands his decision to a peon who is sent to disperse it to all the government school principals.
Perhaps that’s how it really happened; perhaps I’ll never know.
“But, what should we do?” I hear Melissa asking, rousing me from my day-time reverie. She had already arranged her tickets back to the
Sejalben, also in the immediate vicinity in the staffroom, turned in her chair. “You will need to ask the principal,” she told us.
“And I can take your classes,” Tabussum offered helpfully. “He will probably say yes.”
Luckily for us, further obstacle was prevented due to the principal’s subsequent agreement that yes, we could leave a week early. In light of some of the class behavior I’ve been experiencing since classes resumed, I can’t help but feel a little relieved by this. Perhaps a month away from the school will give me some time to think up creative ways to control a room of 65 boys that don’t actually involve the very refined Government school method of beating them into submission…literally.
But, on a final note, seriously: who changes a vacation for an entire state a week beforehand? The whole situation is just so (and I never use this expression frivolously)… Indian.
Best,
Cat
P.S. Here is my itinerary for the (now) month long vacation.
October 18-21:
October 22 – 23:
October 24 – 25: Train ride from
October 26 – Nov 1:
Nov 2 – Nov 14:
Nov 15: Back to Kadod
Posts
2 comments:
In India, paper is a huge commodity which is very expensive, especially in rural areas. That's probably why the principal's signature is required. It is not unusual for things to happen at the very last minute in India. It is no wonder that generally, if you travel by train, you can get a refund for a train ticket until either 24 hours before the train departs or in many cases, up until just a few minutes before the train departs. As far as the change in dates by the government of Gujarat, the government never generally plans anything properly and the distrust of the government is rather huge. So people just usually go about their business and do whatever they want despite the government.
As for the students and the government's strategy of beating them into submission...I don't agree with that strategy of course, but this is done throughout the country and parents of these students generally don't have any problems with it. But here are some suggestions:
Let the students who are more active be more active. I mean that if a student is being active, or disruptive, that person can be recognized as a leader and then you can use that student to help the class do the activities. So instead of passing out worksheets yourself, have that student pass out the worksheets. That's only one example, but if you need more, let me know, and I can even consult my professors here. The suggestions they give are extremely valuable. Some of them are unorthodox, and even radical -- especially for a place like India. Even so, they may work.
hey strange itineary?? North than south than north east ??
Post a Comment