"Here we suffer from English"

No, this picture is not a joke. This is one of the certificates that a prospective English teacher handed me during his interview this week. I finagled a way into having him wait in the library while I snapped a quick shot.

One of my major challenges is finding proper teachers for our school. All of the interviewees so far have been, let's say, a one out of ten. My favorite was the proud holder of an MA in English who was incapable of reading and explaining to me a page from Arthur and D.W. (that's what I happened to have handy).

We then struck the brilliant idea of visiting a local teachers' college and asking for the names of the top students. When I explained to the staff that I was seeking an excellent English speaker, I was told, "Madam, this is rural. Here we suffer from English."

Just me hugging Gandhi's leg

Just me not hugging Lakshmi the elephant's trunk. I considered it, but in real life those things are hairy, slimy, and smelly!

Thank you, Justin and Dina!

Old Delhi

I tagged along with two other volunteers on a quick weekend trip to Delhi.

It actually began here (see picture below), where I spent the night before the trip. Yes, Virginia, there is a swimming pool in India! Although I was slightly weirded out by the drastic, to say the least, socioeconomic contrast with my usual surroundings. A friend of a friend's house in Chennai; they weren't there so it was just me, the guards, and the maids. 

My travel companions in the autorickshaw:

Not my travel companions:

Scenes from the Spice Market:

I wonder how his mother sends him off to school in the morning. "Good-bye, son, and remember not to fall off the bus!"??

And finally, the one and only, breathtaking, awe-inspiring, knock-your-socks-off Taj Mahal.

Guess what I saw?

This week...

*I got lice for the third time (did I actually think I could live in a home for impoverished children in southern India for a year without this?)

*two siblings left to say goodbye to their father before his execution later this week (I heartily disapprove of having a kindergartner and a second grader be a part of this)

one of these siblings
 

*Basha and Mariambe's mother showed up (again) to withdraw the children from school, likely so she can take them out begging (we finally persuaded her (again) to leave them here); Basha cried for two hours after she left (he had told all the other children and teachers that he was sorry, but that he was going home and was done with school forever) 

Basha and Mariambe
 

*I learned that our newly hired Tamil (local language) teacher doesn't know how to spell

*our new housemother's alcoholic husband (whom she left to move here) learned of her whereabouts and came to demand her return (since there's no food in the house) and threatened to take the two children, who've been enrolled at Rising Star

*an enormous lizard (a foot long) made an appearance in the library during second grade reading period, causing quite a hullabaloo

*Ramya broke her arm

*Anjali (whose baby died) switched jobs and is now my assistant in the library, for which I am very grateful

*a first grader was suspected of having leprosy (test results are pending)  

child in question with her brother

*the temperature dropped to 80 and I was almost cold

*I was reminded at every turn how much I'd grown to love the children and how hard it will be to leave  

The sweet smell of success

When I was in first grade, my beloved teacher would hand out stickers to students who had done well on their worksheets. I was delighted with them because they emitted a fruity smell when scratched. And across the bottom of the stickers were invariably the words, "The sweet smell of success."

These pictures are from the last day before fall break. By that point, I was in desperate need of respite to prevent my own "fall and break" of nerves! But I was enormously charmed by this scene, from first and second graders in our end-of-the-day English tutoring class. One volunteer's mother had sent along BOB books, which I photocopied a zillion times, and with which the kids made booklets. Take nothing for granted here! The scissors and crayons they used are only very recent additions to our school.

Below is my sweet and zany miracle child, Kanmani Devan (all his first name; I don't think anyone here bears a last name, although this is very confusing). His kleptomaniac skills are enough to put the Pink Panther to shame. He's able to take candy/pencil/gum from the tutor's bag while being tutored, and without the tutor even noticing. I can attest to this! Yet my favorite scenario was when his disgusted teacher called me into the classroom and told me to "look at Kanmani!" He was sitting at his desk with a dead fish in his hand. (??)

For that matter, I'm just wondering how the Tamil workbook I carefully tracked down in Chennai ended up on his desk (see the picture!).

Kanmani has dealt with many challenges, not least of which was his father's suicide. But it's been beautiful to witness a transformation in him over just the last few months. His antics are now more amusing than alarming. Whenever possible, I pull him out of class for out least an hour per day for individual tutoring. Very few kids get this now that the summer sessions are over. But this sort of personal attention was just what the doctor ordered.

I cried when Maimonisha read her booklet to me at lightning speed. She couldn't read a single letter when I met her in June. And then I agonized and worried endlessly about whether having her repeat first grade was the right choice. It was!