Please excuse the radio silence on the blog for the past month or so. Due to a range of factors I decided at Christmas to stay home in England, where I am shivering now! I am writing a final post to thank with all my heart the trustees of Manisha UK, especially Barbara, Ann from the Steve Sinnott Foundation, the Bashyal family, Stephen Pickering from the University of Worcester, and all of those people such as Dan & Bimala, Saran & Shanti, Sagar, Amelia (who came all the way out for a visit) Krishna, Amal, Sama and Binty who were so kind to me during my months in Nepal. It is with sadness that I write this final post (which feels a bit like the acknowledgments at the back of a book..), but I am so grateful for having had the opportunity to go to Nepal, where I learnt so much about teaching, and life, and myself.
Thanks to everyone who has read the blog, and supported me with kind words and those who kept in touch when I was very far from home - including my long suffering family and poor Joe!
With all my thanks,
Hannah X
.... Hannah In Nepal ....
With Manisha UK ~ Educating Children ~ Empowering Communities
Saturday 28 January 2017
Sunday 4 December 2016
Trapped in Tansen
Dan’s arrival in Tansen has sparked a flurry of activity
that has now been halted by a strike in Palpa, to our great annoyance. Last week we spent a few days in
Devwari, teaching lessons and making shape mobiles (technically, triangle mobiles) with the Class Five
students. We also caused quite a stir in nursery letting the children scribble
on endless pieces of paper that we then made bunting with and strung around
their classroom. We were having to string them through as fast we we physically could to keep up with the sheer level of pictures the children were producing! On Wednesday we visited Shree Kalika and were halfway through
teaching a lesson when suddenly everything had to be stopped, we had to leave,
the strike was about to start and we needed to get back to Tansen as quickly as
possible before they banned all traffic from the roads.
It has now been five days of road strikes, of not being able to buy
resources because the shops are shut, of now not being able to do anything
because the internet is always shutting down, we can’t visit schools because
they too are shut. Cars and buses and bikes are stationary, the noise and
exhaust fumes have died away. Children roam the streets of Tansen playing
football, people are selling things furtively through doorways, not risking
raising their shutters in case they are caught. The strike finishes at five in
the evening, and the bus park rumbles and spits into the night with people
desperate to get in and out of town, and to deliver food. The homestay has had
no guests for days, because no one can bring in tourists – and why would any
tourist risk coming into a town they may be trapped in? Amelia came back for
two days and her bus to Kathmandu was cancelled, so she had to escape on a
night bus. She said that it was horribly claustrophobic, people were so anxious
to get out of town and with no other options the bus was filled to the brim, two
or three people squeezed onto one seat, people squatting on her arm rest,
people having fits in the aisles.
Photo from Amelia!
Dan and I have been coming in to the office to plan a science
training session, but with patchy internet (is that on strike too?) and no
shops open to buy the things that we need to carry out the training we are
stuck. The school exams start on Tuesday, which would have meant a few days at
Bhalebas before then, and going to the Montessori school with Sagar next week.
Except now the schools, when they eventually reopen, will have to go straight
into exams or catching up with all the exam preparation they have missed. The
Montessori school had exams last week instead – but of course they have now missed
their exams, so next week will be catching up for them too. No one knows at the
moment how long the strike will go on for, the Kathmandu Post declared at least
two more days, but no one really knows. At the Red Cross building we have been
told that there is a huge protest planned for tomorrow to decide if the length
of the strike will be extended further or not, but no one is sure. It is so
frustrating to be here and so useless at the same time. I am leaving Tansen on
the 13th for Pokhara to renew my visa before I fly home for
Christmas at the end of that week. Our plans of work are grounded. All we can do is sit and
wait it out.
Sunday 27 November 2016
One friend leaves, one trustee arrives...
It’s been a frantic few weeks since I last wrote. My friend
Amelia came all the way from Australia to see me, and became a Manisha
volunteer for two weeks, coming on school visits with me, and even loyally helping
to clear out the office! She had the Bashyals in hysterics with her impressions
of people selling water in India and we had some really lovely guests at the
homestay that week too. We even squeezed in a couple of days in Pokhara, eating
our way steadily around town. She’s now currently somewhere in the Annapurna
mountain range, scaling great heights. We miss you!
What else is new in Tansen? Daniel Wichmann (or Dan the man, as Saran affectionately calls him) has arrived! He’s
thrown himself straight into school visits and is measuring up the schools that
need libraries, contacting publishers regarding large scale book orders and
conducting basic reading tests for Class 1, 2 and 3 to determine how many words
the children can read across the schools. So, onto the schools. Amelia and I visited Dumre, Amrit,
Rakama Devi and I went on a solo visit to Devwari, taking Janaki with me as honorary
translator for the day. The most memorable moment from these visits was when at Amrit Amelia
read to the whole junior part of the school, all sat outside under a great big
tree. Saran translated and I capered about pretending to be a mouse, much to
the amusement (or perhaps confusion?) of the children. Sadly, all photos from
these visits are on Amelia’s camera, which is currently making steady progress
around Annapurna.
This week with Dan it’s been back to business, he has been
to nearly every Manisha school (sometimes alone, and as brilliant a driver as
Saran is I think it would be a tight squeeze to get all three of us on his
bike) and I have been to five schools with him – we even did three in one day,
Pipaldanda, Amrit and Rakama Devi. I was walking very gingerly after that day
on the back of the bike. The visits have been very focused on reading tests and
library measurements, but we did get a good day of teaching in at Dumre (Dan
letting me tag along to his lessons to see how he does things) and the most
wonderful morning at Kolkal on Friday.
As it was a half day, there were only thirteen children in
school that day, so Laxman and the other two teachers had taken the children
outdoors and were sitting on rugs on the grass in the sun. They are working
their way through a new government scheme, where lessons are planned out on
flashcards instead of the children focusing wholly on textbooks. After watching the English and Nepali lessons, Laxman pulled out his phone and started playing
music, and three of the more confident boys started dancing and singing for us
and the younger students clapped along. I felt very lucky to be there, watching
these children dancing away, the great jagged shapes of the Himalayas over their shoulders. Their playground is set in the middle of quite a
busy path leading to other villages along the hills, so every so often a herd
of goats would be ushered through, or cows would amble past. One even came and
put his great big head in my lap at one point. I laughed thinking about the
uproar it would cause in an English school if a cow suddenly wandered past, but
the Nepali children don’t even blink.
We also went to a meeting at the university this week, with
regards to potentially linking their faculties with universities in the UK, and
possible future Manisha involvement in the education department. We sat in an office
high in the building (which looks a bit like an English manor house, painted
yellow) and the various heads of departments talked to us and afterwards showed
us the library. The library looks exactly like libraries at home, and to my
glee was stacked full of the classics, Maugham, Austen, Dickens, Fleming, and Eliot
to name a few, books I was so shocked to see in Tansen. They politely offered
that I could take some away with me, but I figured that if I started I wouldn’t
be able to stop, and I’d be leaving with armfuls of books.
So to conclude: Tansen is getting cooler, and a heavy haze
has hung over the hills for past couple of weeks, so thick the hills are just
blue shapes, the Madi Valley below is white with cloud, and the Himalayas are lost from
view, hidden in the mists stretching across Nepal. I’ve been eating
pomegranates all week and ploughing through as many books as I can get my hands
on. I just reread To Kill A Mockingbird and I can
report that I liked it much better than I did at school. Any recommendations
welcome!
Friday 4 November 2016
New Occupation: Rice Cutter
I realise I am waaaaay overdue a blog post and so here it
is: a long month of school visits and another festival in Nepal.
Barbara and I were very busy in her last few weeks here,
squeezing in visits to (and here I must apologise if I am spelling these
incorrectly) Amrit, where we were given so many flowers we needed a bag to
carry them home with, Rakama Devi, where we were pleased to see displays on the
walls and a fantastic library, Okhuldunga, Bhalebas, who gave Barbara a royal
send off, Kokal, where we made shape mobiles out of lollipop sticks, and Shree
Kalika, a prospective new school. In Shree Kalika we gave the children in the
nursery a book each to have a look at, and the children reacted as though they’d
never seen books before, much less touched them, squeaking in delight and
showing each other the pictures in the books they held. It was a sobering moment
for me, thinking of the thousands of books I must have carelessly come across
in my many schooldays.
Barbara said goodbye to us on the 26th October,
and left everyone in sad spirits. It was strange to have spent all my days for
the past six weeks with someone and then suddenly being left to roam the
streets of Tansen alone. With the festival on the way however, we couldn’t be
complacent for too long. I’ve been making Nepali resources for the schools and
reading up on government policies. The whole house was repainted, inside and
out, and Abhi draped the house in hundreds of lights for Tihar (or Diwali, for
those like me who didn’t know what Tihar was). At night, you could look out
across the town and it was lit up, every street filled with lights and candles,
the ground outside the houses painted with rangoli patterns.
This week has been for me the most humbling since I have
arrived here in Nepal. I have been lucky enough to go to three different
villages, Saran’s, Dhani’s and Janaki’s, and have been able to see a part of
Nepal that I don’t think I ever would have seen if I was just a tourist,
travelling through.
We spent Tihar at Dhani’s mother’s house, and it was odd
seeing how the traditional is being pushed back relentlessly by modern
technology. Dhani’s 88 year old mother watched, bemused, as her children and
their offspring posed for hundreds of photos and selfies on their state of the
art smartphones, the men talking into handsfree devices tucked into their ears.
Then everyone sat down to bless each other and eat course after course of
traditional Nepali food served up on banana leaves. I was very aware that this
was happening in every village across Nepal, it wasn’t for the benefit of me or
the Dutch couple Dhani had invited along too. It was all for them, we were just
lucky enough to be a fly on the wall.
This feeling was repeated in Janaki’s village – I sat for
much of the day quite passively unaware of what was being said around me,
sitting on the floor in Janaki’s sister’s kitchen watching the young boys eat,
wearing their Adidas t-shirts and checking their iPhones. There seems to be a
gap widening between the young and old generations of Nepal, the internet is
now in every village, on every phone. Teenage boys dance to rnb and look like
they’re straight out of music videos from LA or New York. Then they walk down
to their mother’s rice field and cut rice in traditional methods, i.e, a
scythe. I was very pleased to be invited to go and have a look at such a rice
field, and spent half an hour cutting rice with them, until I became too hot
and feebly cried off to go and have a drink back at the house. The others didn’t
return until much later, when they had cut every last plant in the field. Puts
all my ideas about gardening into perspective.
So, highlights of the week: watching Dhani and his sisters
bless a cow (which included collecting cow pats for luck), reading on the porch
in Janaki’s village, and a small boy picking four enormous avocados out of the
tree for us. Oh, and I attended a bike rally with Saran and Sagar, and after we
had driven all around the town honking and hooting in a huge procession of
bikes, we played bingo in the street, a huge group of men all shouting out as
Sagar pulled out the numbers. Honestly, you just couldn’t make it up.
Tuesday 18 October 2016
Festivals, Blessings and Tikka
The last two weeks have been a blur of festivals and
blessings and so much tikka I’m afraid to report that my forehead is stained
red. We went to Pokhara, we attended a wedding, we have visited friends, but it
wasn’t all play I promise! We also squeezed in a training session for early
years teachers at Rock Regency which was really well received.
Pokhara was hot, hot, hot. We arrived after a frightful
journey that took over eight hours and many breakdowns to a huge thunderstorm.
The following morning the town was scrubbed clean and the sun beat down on us
as we explored the lake and the town. We later went to Begnas Lake, about half
an hour away from the tourist strip of Pokhara. It is very very beautiful, a
bit like a cross between places I have seen in England and Italy, but of
course, very Nepalese with rice fields cutting own to the lake, and not fields
of sheep like at home. We walked down to the lake and Janaki and I put our tired
feet in it. Eagles swooped low over the water as we made our way slowly back up
the hill. Just as we reached our homestay, suddenly the huge peaks of the
Annapurna range appeared over the clouds, unbelievably big and white, like
jagged teeth.
After driving back to Pokhara and doing some resources
shopping and (very important) present buying for people back home, we returned
to Tansen in the comfort of a little car in four hours flat.
The training was building on the early years work we had
done with the teachers at Devwari school, but on a bigger scale and with more
time for us to explain ourselves. Saran did an excellent job of translating,
and when he had to pop out to the bank our wonderful friend Sama from Devwari
kindly stepped in to help us!
So, we were feeling quite pleased and accomplished last
Saturday, when suddenly Dhani and Janaki’s brother appear from the village –
Hari had gone to meet a lady there, they had promptly become engaged, and the
wedding was in two days. Thinking about the extravagant affairs I’ve been to in
the UK, there’s no way they could have been pulled together in just two days,
but Dhani and Janaki managed it, buying saris and clothes and jewels and makeup
and scarves for the bride. Ever on the lookout for excuses to buy clothes, I
happily went off and ordered myself some traditional clothes, careful not to choose any red. Only married ladies are supposed to wear red, and I didn’t want to be
the Western girl making a big social faux pas at the wedding.
We ate a traditional Newari meal with Sagar’s family on Sunday night, and it was fascinated to see the men all lined up in age order eating from banana leaves, and I sat next to the youngest grandson, who spoke flawless English. We went downstairs and sat on the balcony while the men drank and smoked, discussing politics and how Nepal was 250 years behind the rest of the world, and how much they honoured their culture and traditions. Somebody produced an enormous tortoise that had once famously been mauled by a jungle leopard, Sagar set the floor on fire with some home brewed wine, and we decided it was time to go home.
We spent the day after Desain at our friend Sama’s house
with her lovely family. We were blessed and given fruit and fed, twice! We
watched family videos on the tv and her young brother, the same age as my own,
had performed an incredibly complicated dance to Justin Bieber at his school
performance. George, if you’re reading this, I love you to pieces but it must
be said your dancing skills are not quite so accomplished…
Thursday 6 October 2016
Some balloons, and a performance of The Very Hungry Caterpillar
As anyone who has ever heard me talk about teaching would
know, I love the babies and the littles. So to my delight last Wednesday I got
to spend the morning in the nursery at Debvari school, not so much teaching the
children (as my Nepali is currently limited to ‘hello,’ ‘thank you,’ and ‘honeybee’) but playing with them.
This was to hopefully give their teacher some
ideas about teaching engaging lessons such as using cards to get the children
talking, using construction cubes to identify colours and strengthen fine motor
skills, teaching them a song, and pretending to be different animals. We
finally unleashed all mayhem on the class when Saran whipped out some balloons.
In all honesty we lost them at that point, so we let them run riot and trample
us chasing balloons around the tiny classroom.
After this, I asked via Saran if she could teach so I could
get a feel for how the nursery is run. After a few fast words in Nepali, the
children all cracked out their copy books and started furiously writing down
the English alphabet, some from memory, most peering at the paintings on the
wall to help them. There was some definite resentment about putting the balloons away. Needless to say the teaching methods here are very different to those in British nurseries.
We went to visit Papaldanda the next day with armfuls of
books to work with the children in the nursery. Barbara and I aped around making
fools of ourselves to the hysteria of the children, and showing the teachers
how to use resources to count, talk about colour, and doing lots of work with
an alphabet foam mat. We watched some lessons in the afternoon, and I was
fascinated to see the teacher’s toddler following her around the class. At one
point he climbed on top of a desk and other than scooping him back onto the
floor, both she and the students completely ignored him. Barbara tells me that
it’s very common to take your children to school with you, especially in the village schools.
More teacher training on Friday, we went back to Debvari to
work with the nursery, class one and class two teachers. I talked about using
lots of different activities to break up the day, and we gave them a table of
ideas to use. The three teachers were brilliant, taking on our ideas, and then
we went down to a classroom show them what we were talking about, playing with balloons,
alphabet shapes, and jigsaws. I gave the performance of my life when I read The
Very Hungry Caterpillar to a large crowd of children and teachers with as much
gusto as I could muster. I’ll be expecting that Oscar any day now. The schools have now broken up for Deshain, the Hindu
equivalent of Christmas, some for as long as a month, some for a couple of
weeks.
Barbara, Janaki and I have big plans for a trip to Pokhara, and I must
confess I’m looking forward for a few days of downtime. We’ve had such an
intense few weeks with school visits, training, not to mention settling into a
new country, and I’m feeling particularly sluggish because I’m definitely not
drinking enough. I can practically hear my mother recoiling in horror at that
last sentence. I keep being woken up in the night by the sounds of bugs hurling
themselves at my window, and the spiders here are bigger than my hand – I
physically shudder each time I see one hanging in the middle of its enormous
web.
Oh, and this week, after giving a lot of big talk at dinner
one night that I ‘never get bitten,’ I have been chewed to death by some
particularly mean spirited mosquitoes. That’ll serve me right. It’s like that
time at Delhi airport when I blithely said, ‘Oh we’ve had such an easy journey
so far!’ Only to be sent packing to Kolkata on our doomed flight to
Kathmandu.
H x
Location:
Palpa, Nepal
Friday 30 September 2016
A birthday, a new school, and a lot of head teachers
We celebrated Barbara’s birthday last weekend! The Bashyals
surprised her with a cake and I bought her the most ridiculous party hat I
could find, and we had an evening of take away food and local beer, shared with
a very well dressed Swiss couple. Me and Barbara had spent the Saturday morning
working and planning the head teacher’s session, before going out to stretch
our legs around Tansen.
While Barbara knows Tansen like the back of her hand, I am
quite sure I’ll be losing my way around its winding streets for some time.
We
walked up to Srinegar Hill and though it has rained quite heavily since we
arrived, (Dhani had already rescued me from falling flat on my face on the
steep and very slippery slope up to the homestay that morning) the sun beat
down on us and we were quite hot by the time we reached the top (i.e. I was a
sweating mess). As we watched, gaps in the clouds revealed the pink and yellow
shapes of mountains, though I could never be sure if I was looking at shifting
clouds or solid rock. I’m promised that you can see nearly the entire Annapurna
range on a clear day, so I’m sure I’ll be back up there for another gawk before
long.
We made our way back through the town, and it was almost
eerie seeing everything shut up and closed except for a few food stalls.
Saturdays are rest days, so the children are home from school and most of the
shops are shut tight. Children raced down the steep streets, pausing in their
games only to shout: ‘Where are you from?’ I feel like I am asked this question
a hundred times a day, I might start fibbing and telling people somewhere
exotic like Hawaii or the Seychelles.
On Sunday we visited the Devbari school in Tansen, just down
the hill from our office at the Red Cross building. We met the head and his
deputy who were fantastic, so forward thinking and grateful that we were there.
They were arguing for more continuous assessment instead of the painful exams
the children have to endure each term (Abhi, the Bashyal’s son, is currently
doing an exam a day for seven days – and he does this four times a year, a
whole month of exams in the school year that might be better used for teaching
and revising methods perhaps?). They were also eager to create a science
laboratory in the school, and said that a teachers training is never done, and
every single member of staff at the school, both government and private, could
benefit from extra training. Barbara and I left quite pleased and hopeful.
On Tuesday we held a head teachers meeting at Rock Regency,
a hotel in town. Eighteen head teachers and deputies came to see us, and
Barbara asked them to organise their priorities for the children (things like
success, exam results, happiness, safety) and discuss what had gone well in
their schools over the last year, and touched on early years practices. I stood
up and spoke about utilising the libraries more successfully, making sure that
the teachers are sharing books with the children, and most importantly, are
listening to the children read and checking their reading ability and
engagement with the stories. We want to ensure that teachers are not just sat passively in the corner of the room while the children read silently on
the floor. I was so hot as I spoke, not nervous so much as just very aware that
everybody was looking at me, I was astounded to see that some people were even
taking notes! After this little rush, I had to go and turn the fan on to calm down, and
everyone laughed at me.
It was agreed that Barbara, myself, Saran and Sagar - our
champion translators and the core of Manisha Nepal Palpa - deserved a slap up lunch to celebrate. We might have had
to wait over an hour for our food, but to pass the time Sagar was telling us
about Russia in the early nineties (all vodka coupons and swimming in frozen
lakes) so I decided to have another crack at War and Peace that night. I think
I made it through about five pages on the kindle before falling asleep. Sorry
Tolstoy.
And one from last week with Ann!
Location:
Tansen 32500, Nepal
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