Teaching without Credentials

Surprise, excitement and nerves filled my morning of teaching in the local Telugu Medium School -- a government -run school, which 17 HOINA boys attend. As we pulled up, I couldn’t help by notice the girls in uniforms across the street from campus going to the bathroom. We heard about the dismal state of the school’s bathrooms, but actually seeing the girls and boys relieving themselves in the gorgeous rice patties upset and angered me.

And that’s just the beginning. Upon pulling up to the school, we were greeted with what felt like 50 students at the gate. We walked in through the sea of students greeting us with waves, "hellos" and smiles to the main office.

Sarah, Sara and I planned to teach an English class to Telugu speaking students. Last week our leaders, Dana and Missy, along with HOINA staff member Buji, spoke with the headmaster of the school. He asked that we come and review with the students lessons they were just tested on. The value of us teaching, we’re told, is to introduce the students to the American English accent.

Upon entering our ninth class, the teacher told us the book we prepared from is too advance for her class. She then gave us a student’s reader and told us which story to review. After introducing us, she lingered for maybe three minutes as we read the story to the class. Then we were on our own.

- Left, Sarah asking the students for "thumbs up" to signal understanding. Right, Ramesh helping us lead the class.

Luckily Ramesh, a HOINA boy, took charge and began translating our words to Telegu and leading his fellow students. I felt really proud of his abilities – both in English and leadership – surprising after just two weeks with the HOINA children.

Our class had an odd ratio -- just six boys sitting on the right side of the room and 20 or more girls on the left. All of the children sat cross-legged on the concrete floor. The room, dimly lit by windows, was devoid of lighting fixtures. Stains and cracks filled the walls, yet the children stood out as very polished and happy.

The impromptu lesson focused on pronunciation and vocabulary. Applause and “thumbs up” provided our universal humor. Each time we asked if the students understood the meaning of a word, we’d look for thumbs up. After teaching for an hour, we dismissed our class even though the teacher didn’t return. We couldn’t find her and all of the other children were playing in the courtyard. It was 12:15 and lunch is supposed to be at one. Why weren’t the children in class?

A question that I suppose can’t be solved today.

Expectations

I find I’m pushing myself to new heights here at HOINA. Granted these new heights include perfecting and learning skills like French braiding, weaving friendship bracelets, performing a cappella, drawing and painting – but they are skills nonetheless.

The stimulus of my efforts, you ask? Well, the expectations of the HOINA children. I don’t want to let them down. I want to be everything and more than what they expect me to be. When I’m stumped by their homework questions they are surprised. It’s really a unique role – one similar to a parent if I had to guess.I noticed this feeling the other night when the Penn State girls, or “Churistars” as we like to call ourselves, prepared our a cappella performance of “Don’t Stop Beleivin’” by Journey (Glee style!). I tried to fully ignore my stage fright when singing and not giggle too much during our performance.

Our audience of 103 HOINA boys seemed to enjoy it. I really felt like we made them proud, especially when the boys randomly complimented our singing the rest of the night.

I also continue to meticulously work on a mosaic peacock slowing coming to life on the wall of one courtyard in the Boys’ Home. I know they’ll have to look at it every day, so I want them to enjoy its appearance.

To be a role model is a tireless endeavor. I find myself ignoring my aches, discomfort and hunger when I’m helping the children with homework or working to beautify their home. I wonder what our time means to them, especially realizing we leave in a week. What happens when we go? Will our guidance live on?

Treated like Royalty

The only other times in my life when I felt like royalty occurred when I paid to be treated as such. These always involved some type of pampering – manicures, pedicures, facials and massages. Yet, there is no guilt over others fawning over you in these situations. You paid the price and now you enjoy.

Yesterday, we went to the O.P. Jindal English Medium School in Kothavalasa, Andra Pradesh. A lot of the HOINA children attend this private school where the classes are taught in English. Usually the children have school six days a week, but the special occasion of “Founder’s Day” brought them to school on a Sunday.

“Founder’s Day” celebrates the birthday of the late Sri Ram Jindal, as you guessed the founder of the school. Our group of 12 Penn Staters received a special invitation to the ceremony. We arrived on campus around 9:30 a.m. only to be received as royalty. Our HOINA brothers and sisters swarmed, claiming their favorite in our group to show off to their friends. Ashveni, a 14-year-old HOINA gal, escorted me around the campus taking me into each of the classrooms where the students were supposed to be quietly waiting for the start of the ceremony.Each classroom would erupt in greetings as soon as I entered, the students rising from their seats to wish me a “Happy Friendship Day”.

- Ashwini's seventh grade class
Instantly, twenty hands would be outstretched and a circle of children surrounded me. Some brave students, mostly the boys, stood on desks for a better view of the proceedings.Almost all of the children wanted their picture taken and loved when I showed them the digital image on my camera of the photo I just took. After a bit, Ashveni took over as photographer of our escapades, loving the power she had to document our journey.

Throughout the 45 minutes of appearances in 10 classrooms, I focused on not becoming overwhelmed by the situation. Rather, I made eye contact with one student at a time and asked their name. Then I attempted to pronounce each with giggles from my audience. Occasionally, I posed for pictures. The dark classrooms required we use a flash, with each picture revealing my sweaty face. This must be how royalty, powerful politicians and celebrities feel. A tiring experience, yet fantastic nonetheless. I am grateful I could greet the students with, “Happy Friendship Day”, which in my opinion put us on an equal level and garnered mutual understanding.

Back to the Basics

Thursday, August 4, 2011
This evening I stayed at the HOINA Boys’ Home after dinner. Most nights I go to the Girls' Home and sit with Indu, Krisnawini and Ashwini. Instead tonight I cultivated my previously generic relations with the fifth class (fifth grade) and ninth class (ninth grade) boys.

Rajiv (my first friend at HOINA) led a lot of my discussion with the ninth class boys. All of these boys are very curious about language and they still remember Spanish taught to them by the Penn State students who came last year!

I spent time teaching the boys greetings in Italian, writing the words in their notebooks to practice. In return they taught me Telugu and Hindi, but spelled out the words as they sound using the English alphabet.

With the fifth class boys, we spent time reading from their English book reviewing the words persuade, message and brand. The reading exercise talked about brands using famous actresses or cricket players to advertise their product. I had each boy read a paragraph, then they asked me to explain its meaning. It’s so thrilling to go back to the basics. It garners in me a new sense of appreciation for the basics and the love of learning.

We also discussed our goals for our lives. Little Saikumar (there are two Siakumars!), said he wants to be a police officer and asked me what steps he should take. It’s not an area I’m too familiar with but I love the idea of promoting university study. I told him to attend the university and study criminal justice then go through training with the police. (If anyone has more informed advice that is perhaps India specific please share in the comments!!!)

Tonight when Rajiv said, “Sister, you talk so freely with us,” I worried if I had gone too far or said something wrong. But, when I asked him this he said, “No, we just appreciate the variety of what you are teaching us. Thank-you, sister.”

“My favorite time of the year is when you all come,” Rajiv later said and my heart exploded. I’m so happy to be here.

The possibilities born from technology

A lack of technology after constant access to the resource is the only way to learn this lesson. Imagine you come back to your apartment after an exhausting day on campus only to find your internet is down and you can’t complete any of your assignments. Then, compound this feeling by four days.

After four days at HOINA, I only had ten minutes on the internet. Only enough time to read and answer one e-mail. Ravati, a staff member at HOINA, has family in Chennai. I couldn’t imagine living far from my family without being able to communicate with them on a daily basis. Ravati also is trying to earn a college degree but frequent power outages common in India prevent her from regular access to the computer – a vital resource in modern education.

Having only one computer with internet on a campus housing 300 people – children, staff members and 12 visiting Penn Staters – prevents any one member of this community from regular computer access. When vital management communication needs to be made from this one computer, posting a blog entry justifiably holds lower priority.

Still, there are many times that I walk by the office after business hours and the computer is sitting alone. Evening storms bringing power outages and “offline” status prevent me and others from updating all those at home about daily moments with the HOINA children and the humid weather that gets us dripping with sweat by 9 a.m.

With that said, here are four posts from the past four days at HOINA. As of now, I am only allowed to post on Sundays – the day of rest and play at HOINA. But, I promise the thoughts will come in bulk. I encourage you to post your own thoughts in the comments and begin a dialogue about these topics. Please also comment on any additional subject, event, aspect you would like to see covered. (I also apologize for any awkward formatting! I have to post quickly so more people can use the computer!)

Ciao tutti!

Christianity in India

An Indian Christian rock band at a Baptist church in Visakhapatnam brightened up my morning. My second Sunday in India, I decided to attend church with HOINA’s founder, Darlene Large. The service was in English so I could follow along.

A family of Christian missionaries represented the only other white faces in attendance. Following the service, they gravitated towards Mrs. Large and I. I was full of questions, because we have not seen many white Americans or Europeans in India. An eighteen-year-old girl accompanied the family that included two young girls. After a few questions, I found out she is from China and is living with the family for three months and teaching the young girls.

The whole situation felt odd to me. Why is an eighteen-year-old girl teaching two girls around the age of five in India? The culture of ex-pats, especially missionaries, felt stale as represented by this family. Here, at a church lead by an Indian man and a large congregation of Indian followers, why are more white Christians needed here?

I understand many people feel called to India due to the desperate poverty that comes along with the alarmingly large population, but can’t the Christian churches in India open their arms to the problems around them? This question underlies what our group is doing here, also. As a disclaimer, I don’t know the intricacies of that family’s mission and purpose but these thoughts were my immediate reaction. What I wonder is when other Indians see us, do they have these same thoughts? Does simply our presence remind them of the desperation around them?

Since, this Penn State program at HOINA is in its tenth year, I feel as though we are not hurting the way things work here. I know I am to act as a big sister and role model to the over 200 children who call this campus home. Will I personally save them? No, they’ve already been saved by being given the gift of a loving and beautiful home.

-- A few of the boys holding toddler, Povan. I'm still working on all 103 names!! Ha.

-- The front door to the HOINA girls' home in lush south eastern India.

Saturday evening at HOINA

It is around 6:30 p.m. on Saturday night at HOINA. To the children it is their Friday night, since they have class six days a week, with only Sunday off. The children are eating dinner. The girls just finished their weekly singing lessons. A local married couple comes each Saturday evening to lead the girls in Christian song and dance. Many of the girls have a very strong belief in Christianity.

At HOINA the children are raised praying each day and learning bible stories. Many of the girls come up to our group of Penn State students asking, “Sister, are you a Christian?”Growing up in a Protestant church, Salem United Church of Christ, I attribute my openness to all walks of life to my faith. Love your neighbor as yourself is the lesson that stuck most with me.

Some of the students in our group are not Christian. In fact, in our group of just ten students, we hold a variety of faiths – with a Muslim, a Jew and a few who are apathetic. When these students are asked about their belief in Christianity, they note the HOINA girls are disappointed at their response.

I personally believe we all chose different ways to reach the same God -- a philosophy I believe makes me a more adaptable, accepting person. Hopefully, the girls will learn from our multi-faith group that there are a variety of religions out there and regardless of faith there are many people who will open their heart to help another being.

Then there's southern India

When you think of India, what do you picture? Well, I found the India I imagined here in the south. Relief washed over me as soon as we touched down in Visakhapatnam. I saw the coastline, palm trees, and beautifully sculpted lush mountains that gate the city and thought, “This is India.”

Ramana, HOINA’s driver, took us along the coastline as we made our way to the home. We passed fish drying on stones. We passed thatched huts. And of course we passed roaming cows. Welcome to village India.

-- Fish drying along the coast in south eastern India, north of Visakhapatnum

After settling into the guest houses, we made our way to dinner. The crowd of boys who live in the HOINA boys’ home greeted us warmly at the gate. “Good evening, sister. What is your name?” It was precious and exactly the reception we needed after our journey in Delhi and Agra.

After dinner one of the boys, Rajif, tried to take our group’s dishes from me. “Sister, you are our guest. We will clean,” he said. But, I persisted and we raced to see who could finish more of the dishes pilled in front of me. I made my first friend.

The following day, we took a tour of the grounds. I noticed the splashes of creativity that sprinkle the campus. Mosaics of children, animals and religious sayings decorate the walls in the children’s play areas. Near the girls’ home, there is a pet monkey living in a large screened in gazebo. Along the roads within the campus are brightly painted tires. I can’t imagine a more beautiful or perfect place to raise children. I would be a very happy child here.

Note: “Aka”, meaning (older) sister or brother is a way many Indians in this area refer to each other. That is why the children greet us and each other this way.

Constant Contention

The trash, the dirt, the grime and the smell are not what is bothering me. It’s the constant, in your face poverty and desperation.

In contrast, I never felt so rich. Granted, I personally did not pay for the hotel we stayed in last night thanks to the hard work that got me into Penn State’s Schreyer Honors College. But, I still felt obnoxiously privileged and honestly for the first time in my life.

I felt lucky to have the opportunity to come to India and here I am feeling too lucky. Seeing the world comes with much responsibility and promised reflection. There are so many ways to live this life and I always felt that none was better than another. But when so many people are blatantly suffering, you have to think something is wrong. Wrong with their system, wrong with the rumored government corruption – just wrong. But why is it so wrong? Whose fault is it? Who needs to take responsibility? I now understand why Supriya shared the statistic that there is one NGO for every 400 people in India.

Clearly this issue is complicated.

Last night we stayed in the Clarks Shiraz hotel in close proximity to the Taj Mahal. I understand why the Taj Mahal is India’s crown jewel – what an amazing, beautiful, ostentatious place. But to get to it you pass countless desperate vendors, selling everything from Taj Mahal snow globes to key chains and T-shirts. Our tour guide, Joli, simply told us to ignore them because once you acknowledge them they think you are interested and will heckle you until you are out of reach.

It’s barbaric. It’s uncomfortable and it makes me feel so rude, rich and mean. All of these characteristics are so unfamiliar to me. I try to go through my life embracing everyone in a positive, supportive way. It sucks when you feel those characteristics just because you aren’t in their shoes. The vendors and beggars that stuck out the most include a man with deformed legs whose knees acted as feet that had to crawl to move; and an adorable little boy selling Taj Mahal snow globes.

What upsets me the most is that I am posting these thoughts. Before coming to India, I heard a variety of negative views. I thought, “I’ve done my share of traveling, I’m understanding and this won’t bother me. I will embrace this culture in the most positive way.” But, here I am reporting the negative and I don’t want you to judge them.

The cities I’ve visit are in constant contention. At first I thought they simply co-existed, but it seems too positive of a word and paints a picture that nothing is wrong here.

I leave you with this: Last night when we returned to the hotel we were bombarded by the hotel staff to go to “Monsoon Kasha”, a party celebrating Monsoon season. My roommate Robyn and I walked in to check it out, and there were 10 hotel staff members standing at buffet tables, along with a DJ. No guests were eating there. It was disgusting. Not the set-up but the obnoxious wastefulness of it all. I didn’t ask, but I’m guessing all of the left-over food was disposed of and did not go to those beggars on the street.

Creating possibilities

"Will you be job seekers or will you be job creators?" University of Delhi Sri Ram College of Commerce President P.C. Jain asked us today.

As leader of a college of economics in a bustling Indian city, he strives to push his hard-working students to become job creators. He even proposed in his introduction speech that when students enter the university they remain throughout their college career as those who will be job creators, not take direction from others but rather finding their own route. Possibly, he said, these students would not be allowed to graduate without creating their own business.

In a country of 1.2 billion, with 35% of Indians surviving on extreme poverty (less than $1 a day), more job creation can be a solution to alleviate hardship. Both Supriya, of Free the Slaves, and the group of students we met with today take a more empowering long-term approach to aiding those in need.

Today we met the College of Commerce's SIFE team. SIFE, Students In Free Enterprise, is an international non-profit that prompts students to get creative in helping their own communities. The team just placed second at India's national SIFE competition for their project in helping local rickshaw drivers get loans to buy their own vehicle. Rickshaws act like taxis but the drivers peddle passengers around all day for a low cost. (And, yes! I mean peddle like a bike in extreme Delhi heat!)

Before the rickshaw drivers had to rent the vehicle from contractors who were often exploitative. Now, their day to day costs are minimized and they have a constant promise of income. A long-term improvement.

The right of possibilities

I began this blog based on the premise that I was continuously contending with possibilities. Today, the debate that plagued my mind last summer appears slightly selfish. Let me explain...

Tonight, I write to you from New Delhi, India - a place of depth, where luxuries and poverty co-exist. An international service trip with Penn State's Schreyer Honors College is what brings me here and I am delighted at what I found.

Today, Supriya Awasthi the South Asia Director of Free the Slaves spoke to our group of 10 Penn State students with the world at their fingertips. Free the Slaves is an international NGO that works to combat slavery in every form. The group defines slavery as "any person physically confined, unpaid or paid below minimum wage, or who lives under the threat of violence."

Supriya spoke directly about her organization's work in freeing child slaves here in India. We watched a video of events that Supriya witnessed. After slaves are freed, boys and girls are taken to separate Ashrams where they are well taken care of and taught that they to have rights. A right to education, bread and love.

What struck me the most was the psyche of a freed slave. They are often asked upon gaining freedom, "What do you dream? What do you wish?" And, Supriya said they simply have no concept of dreaming and ask, "What is a wish?"

In contrast to my first post, where I admitted my fear of losing grip on my dreams - to imagine a life without a promise of freedom and choice seems a dimly lit existence. So sing it loud and sing it proud, a message spread in the work of Free the Slaves, we all have a right to possibilities!