I have received several e-mails from people wondering what I do with myself all day – how I like Pokhara and if I have made any friends here. And the answer is, truly, that I am too busy to venture out into Pokhara or meet random young Nepalis anywhere.
Why? I’m in school.
Six days a week I teach little Nepali children, from grades 3-7. I am volunteering at Social Public School, a poor community school a 15 minute walk from my house. Allow me to describe a typical day at school:
I leave my house around 9am, walk to school (that will be the subject of another blog entry), make photocopies of anything I need to give the children (which I have to pay for myself), and arrive at school around 9:45. I am greeted by the door-man, the cook, and the ladies who do god knows what. I walk to my office and hear “Hello, Miss!” everywhere I turn, the kids politely greeting me in the morning. I get my things organized for my first class, and at 10am the bell rings and we all line up for morning assembly.
What can I say about morning assembly? It’s weird. All the kids line up in perfect lines with their class and proceed to do some sort of soldier-ish routine to the beating of a drum. Then, at the whim of the head teacher, they may get their teeth and nails checked for cleanliness or they may be forced through a series of morning exercises. Once the teacher has satisfactorily amused himself with his great “power”, the morning prayer will be said. I can’t really understand most of it because it’s in the morning, but it’s about Jesus! When I asked if the school was Christian I was informed that, no it wasn’t, but they recite this prayer simply because they needed an English prayer to recite! After the prayer, the drum begins to beat again and the children march off in queue to their classes.
Once all the children are in their classrooms, the teachers go to their designated first period class. I am always the first one to leave for my classes, while most of the teachers linger around and chat for a while. I don’t leave because I find them unfriendly or because they’re speaking in Nepal. I am here to teach though, so that’s what I will do. Plus, this simple act of being unhurried to go to class is just one example of the flippant attitude with which most of the teachers carry themselves at school (more soon on that).
Why? I’m in school.
Six days a week I teach little Nepali children, from grades 3-7. I am volunteering at Social Public School, a poor community school a 15 minute walk from my house. Allow me to describe a typical day at school:
I leave my house around 9am, walk to school (that will be the subject of another blog entry), make photocopies of anything I need to give the children (which I have to pay for myself), and arrive at school around 9:45. I am greeted by the door-man, the cook, and the ladies who do god knows what. I walk to my office and hear “Hello, Miss!” everywhere I turn, the kids politely greeting me in the morning. I get my things organized for my first class, and at 10am the bell rings and we all line up for morning assembly.
What can I say about morning assembly? It’s weird. All the kids line up in perfect lines with their class and proceed to do some sort of soldier-ish routine to the beating of a drum. Then, at the whim of the head teacher, they may get their teeth and nails checked for cleanliness or they may be forced through a series of morning exercises. Once the teacher has satisfactorily amused himself with his great “power”, the morning prayer will be said. I can’t really understand most of it because it’s in the morning, but it’s about Jesus! When I asked if the school was Christian I was informed that, no it wasn’t, but they recite this prayer simply because they needed an English prayer to recite! After the prayer, the drum begins to beat again and the children march off in queue to their classes.
Once all the children are in their classrooms, the teachers go to their designated first period class. I am always the first one to leave for my classes, while most of the teachers linger around and chat for a while. I don’t leave because I find them unfriendly or because they’re speaking in Nepal. I am here to teach though, so that’s what I will do. Plus, this simple act of being unhurried to go to class is just one example of the flippant attitude with which most of the teachers carry themselves at school (more soon on that).
