Katie Revell\’s India Blog

I woke up this morning with ink from the bedsheet imprinted, like a 1980s tattoo transfer, on my arm. Suffice to say, it’s pretty hot in Vijayawada at the moment.

So, our epic Summer travels are now aypoendi, or, for those unfamiliar with the local tongue, finished. In all, we took in eleven states and survived eighteen train journeys (not to mention several ones by bus). I have to say it was only really during this trip that I got a proper idea of the stunning vastness and diversity of this country. The memories are now rather blurred, but colourfully: I saw rainforest, coast, desert, mountain, tea fields, massive metropolises and the most sacred river in the country. They were an educational, memorable and inspirational couple of months - not without stress and the occasional hiccup, but overall pretty amazing.

Returning to Vijaywada and Stella College on Saturday night brought with it a slew of jumbled memories. The smell of our room (which had lain untouched since our departure) reminded me of our first night at the College and our first, rather strange, meal. Having arrived tired, crumpled and somewhat disorientated, we ate sitting primly at a little table which had been prepared in the bedroom; the meal consisted of sweet bread, boiled eggs, jam, cucumber, marmalade and processed cheese. As with much of my initial experience, this turned out not to be a precursor to the rest of the year!

Indeed, the return and subsequent recollections have also made me realise how much has changed over the last nine (and-a-half) months. We now find ourselves the “old hands”, watching the new Junior Inter (the equivalent of AS-level or 5^{th year students) find their feet. Unsurprisingly, the two white faces were met with much curiosity - “Which [subject] group?” “Junior or Senior?” - and this did not dissipate once it had been explained that we were not, in fact, students at all. It’s interesting that the girls expected people to come all the way from distant “Foreign” (a catch-all phrase) to study at Maris Stella..!I know I’ve said this many times before, but meeting the new students also highlights the failures - or rather the short-sighted implementation - of the education system which values memorisation more than real understanding. Many of the new arrivals are now learning in English medium for the first time, and their standard - spoken, understood, read and written - is minimal. There’s a massive deficit between this and the material they will be using in class. That they will soon be learning about biological processes, ancient history or local administration from English textbooks frankly beggars belief. But then, I have seen this before: girls with whom a brief chat is a struggle, sitting revising for an English-medium zoology exam. The system has become twisted so that examinations are not a representation of knowledge and understanding but instead are of value in their own right. In fact, they are of absolute value, so that true learning falls by the wayside in the rush to memorise enough to pass with a respectable percentage.}

Bringing the new girls up to speed with their English understanding before they get bogged down in committing their textbooks to memory is an immense task. With a syllabus to cover, it’s impossible for the subject teachers teach English as well. So, hopefully, that’s where we come in. With the last academic year as experience, I hope to find it easier to streamline my lessons and make sure the content and activities are as useful as possible. Suggestions and tips are, as always, more than welcome!

This week, we started taking evening classes in the Hostel again, particularly focusing on the Juniors. Yesterday’s class, with those who have come from English medium, went especially well. We started with a game involving finding types of words and sentences in some children’s books (fastest gets a point), and then split into two groups. With mine, I had a really good chat, based on some “if…”questions from a lesson I prepared last year (what they would do in various far-fetched situations). It was so refreshing to talk to students who were enthused, talkative and more than happy to use their imaginations. It definitely gives me hope in the face of the uber-prescriptive education system! I hope to be able to have some good discussions with these students, as well as working on building up the confidence and vocabulary of the less advanced girls.

We now only have two months (as of yesterday - not that I’m counting) left in India. By the time the regular timetable takes effect (not until the 18th of June) there will only be around 6 weeks before we return to the UK. Short as it seems, though, I do think a lot can be done in that space of time, with proper planning. In any case, of course, there will be two brand new volunteers following on at the end of August. That we will soon be veterans, giving way to a whole new generation of just-outta-schoolers freshly selected and trained, is a scary thought. Although I feel like I’ve been in Vijayawada for ages, when I think back to the Selection and Training courses - even to the research I did before applying for Project Trust - it doesn’t seem that long ago.

However, I hasten to remind myself quite how much I’ve learned from my heady days as a newcomer (to teaching, Vijayawada, and India itself). It’s amazing how much fuller your understanding of a place becomes when you live here: it enables you to go beyond the superficial and really get to know the psyche of a country. One key part of this for me has been the relationship between the sexes. Although India is known in the West as a relatively conservative country, it’s more complicated than that. For a start, the contrasts are immense: in the “metro” cities such as Mumbai (which was, for me, a highlight of our trip - an energised, cultured, grubby, colourful place), unmarried couples, co-habitation and - gasp - being seen out with your other half are as normal in the UK. In somewhere like Vijayawada, those same things are unthinkable. Yesterday, walking back from a mango-buying trip (the streets being now lined with the things), a teenage boy started walking beside me, and enquiring after my name, country, where I live, and so on. After a minute I apologised and explained that “I can’t be seen walking with a boy.” “You are talking like Indian girl!” was his bemused response. While the line was partly just to shake him off (I wasn’t in the mood for that kind of conversation), eyebrows probably would have been raised had I, for example, met one of the sisters from the College.

There are, sadly, more sinister sides to the sometimes dysfunctional relationship between male and female. In Jaisalmer, a surreal but impressive old city carved intricately from sandstone in the Rajasthani desert, the young manager of our hotel began “pleasuring himself”, for want of a less twee phrase, while talking to us (and despite the presence of my male friend). When we made a scene and left, his parting shot was a threat to me - “You tell anyone, I know where you are staying. If you go on camel trek, you stay overnight, I know where you are.” What’s even more depressing is that similar things have happened four times on our various trips. I can’t put this down to anything but bad luck, since we are always careful to cover up and are never provocative in the least. After the initial shock and anger, incidents like that leave you reeling with questions - Is it due to the strap-top- and hotpant- clad Westerners who wander the tourist spots? Did he think it was acceptable? Or did he do it because he knew it wasn’t? Is it all just Britney’s fault? In any case, despite the unquestionable unpleasantness, it is somewhat comforting to know that it’s not uncommon - it’s just “one of those things”. On the other hand, that very fact points to something very wrong with the perception of sexuality among certain members of the population.

Our mammoth trip also amplified a few strains in the partnership. When we were travelling - even more so than at the College - there was little opportunity for privacy and time alone. Inevitably, then, minor irritations tended to stick in the mind until they came to the surface as arguments. Fi and I are very different characters, and although we generally complement each other, rather than clash, tensions do sometimes arise. To be honest, though, I don’t find this surprising: to be thrown together with someone and then to spend every day with them for a year is such an artificial situation (in fact, rather like an arranged marriage) that it’s bound to cause the occasional fracas. Simply feeling like a half, rather than an individual (”Where is other one?” is still a common question at the College) can get be frustrating: I am looking forward to getting home and having some space to myself again. Overall, however, I think we do pretty well; from what I’ve gathered we’re certainly one of the less volatile pairs..!

I pick out these lowlights only for the sake of balance and accuracy: the travelling was fantastic. We were lucky, even as tourists, to be able to get underneath the skin of many of the places by staying with locals, both through the online network Couchsurfing and through contacts from Vijayawada. In Mumbai, we stayed with someone who works behind the scenes in Bollywood (I even got an impromptu tour of one of the main studio sites); in Delhi, we found ourselves with his cousin who is in television; in the North, in Himachal Pradesh, we were put up in a small, highly traditional village. The latter visit happened to coincide with the marriage of two of the villagers, so we were able to witness - and, one night, take part in - the festivities (which lasted 5 days in all). I do feel very privileged to have been able to see things like that, which, for all the “non-touristic” activities on offer, are generally out of reach for the traveller.

Another place I found unusual and fascinating was the organic spice plantation in the rainforest in the South of Karnataka (which lies to the East of Andhra). We stayed there with my parents during their March visit. It’s run by two Canadian-Indians who are inspirationally passionate and knowledgeable about organics. Although it’s something I’ve long been interested in, it was an eye-opener and very uplifting to see such good work going on in a country where environmental awareness, as with so many issues, means holding conferences, roping in businesses to erect “Plant more trees” signs at the sides of the roads, and limply waving placards on annual early-morning marches. The recent walk to mark Environment Day was sponsored by none other than Coca Cola: the kind of surreal thing that’s really ceased to surprise me.

Much as I enjoy keeping this blog, the limitations (time, social sensibilities, powercuts) can be frustrating. I can only urge you to make a trip - although, given my previous rant, I could only condone a trans-Asia cycle-ride as a means to get here.