These were the affectionate names that our Amma (mother in Nepalese) called us in lieu of really understanding how to pronounce my name and enjoying saying Tony's. We have just returned from Gumlek - a remote village with a road that no-one seems to use - after a 2 week stint in their school. It was a bit of a rushed decision about where we would go, and on arrival a lack of clarity about where we would stay, but soon enough we were made comfortable on the covered balcony of the senior Amma's house. We covered the balustrade with a bit of muslin for our own limited privacy and tried not to look too hard at the open rafters above and the cobwebs and critters all around - thank god for the mosquito net. And also thanks to the Ghurkas for installing a water project in the village five years ago. This meant that we had a tap (the good news), the 'interesting' news was that it was one of 17 in the village and located on the main thoroughfare and so any ablutions were to be conducted in full view of the whole village (thank god for wet wipes). We noticed that people especially women took to laborious lengths to try and wash as discreetly as possible, but I wondered how the women in particular managed to wash their nether regions in full view of the bench opposite the tap - it looked complicated, embarrassing and only to be done at night (but then there was the mosquito problem). So I declined to wash at all and gave the bits a bit of a run through with a wet wipe (well, I thought you'd want details!). The other interesting aspect of our living arrangements was the position and aspect of the toilet. Yes, it was a squat toilet and you had to climb over a stile to get to it, past a cow barn and their excrement and the ingenious gas creating cow pooh machine (don't ask) to a rickety old toilet where the wooden door didn't shut and you didn't want to look too closely at anything. Not a place you would want to venture at night (cue bottle by the bedside). Oh and there was no electricity. They did have hydro power but due to the dry season the water was needed for the rice fields. It got dark at 7pm - so early nights for us (especially as we were woken up at 5am). The shop sold batteries and rice and sweets and there was no phone nor a signal.
I've got to say, this place was more of a challenge than Tangting and on our first Saturday, we had a bit of a wobble ('I've had enough, I want to go home - me too.'). People were friendly, but not as sociable as our other village, to be fair we couldn't communicate and I think we felt a bit lonely. The school was a challenge but there was a reticence at our presence and we were not sure if they wanted us there. And there was the lack of control over food - dal baht twice a day (8.30am, 7.30am), a banana at breakfast which was cooked by different women in the village and brought to our place. This kind of turned into a competition about who could cook the best dal baht in the village for the volunteers and to check we actually enjoyed it they hovered over us while we sat and ate. Only hunger and knowing there was no other means of obtaining food forced it down. And to be honest some were good and some were terrible. Anyway, we worked our way through our wobble and decided we would stick it out and then review our position. After that things improved.
We loved being in the village - its peace, its natural order governed by the environment and the need to feed their animals, tend the land and feed their families. The villagers lives as far as we could see contained not much more than this. Sometimes they went on a day trip to the city Damoli (5hours walk away - each way!), but mostly they got up at 4.30am, collected water (not everyone lived near a tap), went out to get leaves for the buffalo, goats that lived nearby, husked corn and the ground it by a hand mill, made thread by hand on a spindle from goat wool, went out shooting, tended the animals, had a chat, ate dinner, washed themselves and the children and that was it. Tony helped our 'Buwa' (father) to hoe a field ready for rice by hand with a antiquated hoe - it was hard to keep up with the old boy but he did it. He also wanted to go out shooting but they were having none of it! Life in the village was like watching life in a museum or an extract of National Geographic - agrarian life without a machine in sight. It was great to witness life which we would only now find reenacted in a museum.
One night we listened to a house tune on our shared IPod and cast our minds back to how much fun we have had dancing the night away with friends - but that hedonistic life was in a parallel universe to these people and it made us wonder at our own culture - we also said how much we could do with a night out and hope someone will be organising a good party over the summer! Saying that, on our last night the Amma group (an excellent co-operative of women in every village that operate a banking system and elicit regular payments from all the villagers and then determine how the money should be spent) had a dancing and singing party which consisted of them singing and taking it in turns to dance and them insisting that we danced all night! They loved Tony's Russian dancing interpretation of their moves (see pix). A great night!
The school work was hard, we worked well with some teachers to support them in their teaching and offer ideas for more practical approaches to their lessons, but some of the more strategic issues we were not able to tackle with the head as he seemed happy with the status quo. The language barrier was also a challenge and we wondered at our decision to do this work without a crash course in Nepali. At the end of the Wed of our second week, the school announced there was a local religious holiday the next day and maybe the day after. So no school. We decided to go with a teacher to another village and came upon the local priest who was taking offerings for the religious festival - the 'temple' was outside under the people tree (where all the villagers meet). As we were watching him. people came up with a goat and chickens to sacrifice. Oh dear - I'd never seen an animal killed not least for religious reasons. As we watched the priest doused the goat with water then got out a sharp sickle and slit its throat - yes, blood spurted out. It was gruesome but not cruel (he did have to saw the head off). It only happened once a year and then the family ate the goat. The teacher asked if we thought it was against animal rights and I said I didn't feel it was and that a chicken or cow pumped full of antibiotics in a box was worse. The chickens went the same way but flapped after the beheading!
On our last day we took a whole school picture and they gave us garlands and tikka and wished us well. We had decided to leave a day early due to the strike and our friendly teacher accompanied us on the 3-hour walk to a village where they assured us we could get a jeep to the city. We wanted to leave early that morning but communication and various other factors meant we didn't get away until 1pm so when we arrived at the village there was no signal to call a jeep and the jeeps had finished anyway. Options, stay there (it was horrible), walk three hours to the city (but the porters didn't want to carry our bags that far), walk 2 hours back with them to a local house in the jungle and try again the next day (but there may be a strike so no vehicles). At that point, we were tired and emotional and fed up. But as they say here ' something will happen' and it did. We got a jeep after a 3.5hr wait and took off in the night on the dangerous 'track' with one headlight, one chicken, a goat and a baby. We hit Damoli and got a mini bus taxi to Pokhara (where you had to hold on for dear life as the driver took the roads as if in the grand prix) and finally got to the hotel at 10.30pm knackered! Nine hours to get back. We needed to reflect on our volunteering and our experience there. But undeterred we are determined to go back - I think we are just settling into this village existence...
Sunday 30 May 2010
Tuesday 18 May 2010
Monday 17 May 2010
ABC...as easy as 1, 2, 3...
and 4 and 5 and 600 and the rest of the bloody metres we had to walk up and down to reach Annapurna Base Camp! But it was amazing when we got there. More of that later. After a week of watching as the Maoists tightened their stranglehold on the people they allegedly said they were trying to help, witnessing threatening rallies, demonstrations through the streets with sticks on fire and stories of breaking windows, destroying vehicles and attacking journalists we decided to get the hell out of Pokhara.
This meant home or a trek so as we were in the mountains we decided on the latter. It did mean that we would have to walk two days to get to the start along the road but I saw that as a warm up. We hired a porter and guide. To be honest we didn't really need to guide as Tony even started telling him which was the best route, but we decided on reflection as well as helping him to avoid 16hrs a day working in a kettle factory in Malaysia, he also acted as marriage mediator. With the guide: 'OK let's go this way our guide knows best, or perhaps a different route, I like your alternative Tony, and no problem Tony if you want to skip ahead, my guide is with me to break my fall as I slip down a crevice between two rocky outcrops. Without guide: 'Are you sure this is the right route? But how do you know? I know you can read a map but you've never been in the Himalaya! I told you we should have got a guide! I can't believe you're making us walk this far! I thought you said it was only.... and so on you get the drift. But happy days we got the guide and he soon became known as my shadow, you won't see a pic of me without him unless he took it.
So as you can imagine to get to the bottom of one of the highest mountains in the world (Annapurna is over 8000metres) you have to do a lot of walking up. Iknew that!!!!!! But I just didn't appreciate HOW MUCH walking up I had to do. In fact we had to climb 3000 metres but in order to do that we had to walk up and down 6000 metres. Yes, just as you felt that you couldn't walk up another step (the trail consisted of a lot of steep steps) but you felt proud of yourself that you'd achieved the top of a steep climb and knocked off a few hundred metres, you hoped to look out over a flat bit only to find that the bloody path went downhill again - all those metres gained were to be lost. And if they were lost you knew that this meant that they had to be climbed again (see earlier about base camp being high up - 4144 metres to be exact). I had a meltdown on Day 2 - I felt I couldn't go another step and suggested to Tony he went on his own to Base Camp (not an option). So I gave myself a serious talking to (mainly consisting of: 'It will be such an achievement" 'Who cares?' 'I can do it - I trained for it' 'What a couple of days in Dulwich Park' 'I'll let myself down' 'Yeah right'. And so it was on Day 3 I got up knowing there was another huge ascent but determined to get through it. And I did by striding on ahead ALONE while Tony and guide lagged behind (on purpose) - my only way of doing it was to imagine I was really fast and had to stride ahead while they couldn't catch up. It worked and I was so happy I did a little performance of 'The Hills are Alive...' much to the bemused guide and porter.
After that it was hard but fine. Oh and the views were spectacular. We got up at 5.30am every day to look at the mountains and set off at 7am. We walked about 5 hours a day then settled down in our tea house to watch the inevitable rain, chat to other trekkers and eat dal baht and drink Coke. The final push was to Machhapuchhare base camp at 3700m - it was a steep climb of 1250m that day - a killer. Apparently you can get altitude sickness at 3500m so of course I thought I had it once we got to MBC - well, I had a headache. And it was FREEZING but Machhapuchhare (Fishtail) was also majestic, moving (not literally) and Mahoosive! Then we got stuck in a hailstorm - great big lumps of ice that could knock you out I kid you not. So once in the dinning (sic) room we huddled under blankets, drank black tea, learned about the tetris mountains and life for a 20 something in Newfoundland and went to bed at 8pm. Well we were getting up at 4am to make our final ascent to Annapurna Base Camp.
I had struggled to walk on these treacherous paths in full daylight, so i was not looking forward to starting off in the dark with just a headtorch but luckily I had my brilliant white raincoat on so that added extra light. And in no time at all the sun lit up behind the peaks and gave the sky a brilliant orange glow, against which an amphitheatre of mountains revealed themselves to us. And suddenly all the steps, the trips, the falls the bad dal baht didn't matter at all because at last we reached the reason we had started this trek to surrounded by these awesome (with a capital 'O') mountains. For Tony, it was something he had read about for so many years, he knew the names of every peak (which was more than the guide did) and it was a culmination for him of all those stories of intrepid mountaineers who had attempted and succeeded and failed to climb these seemingly impenetrable peaks. Then we had pancakes and tea for breakfast and walked back down.
Of course the walk back down was harder, because we didn't have a goal, well we did: to enjoy every moment but also to get back to a pizza and beer. So it took us 7.5 days which we thought was pretty good going. Some people were up there for ages taking their time and maybe if we had been on our own we would have stayed longer, but we were feeling that we needed a bit of space from our guide and also needed to feel warmth in our bones again.
Now we are back in Pokhara, I feel ecstatic that this is the biggest physical challenge I have done. Saying that, I won't be doing it again (I know my limits) but it has made me realise what I can make this 46year old body do if I put my mind into it. As for Tony, Everest Base Camp for him next.... he was like a little mountain goat bless him. Pictures to follow as always.
This meant home or a trek so as we were in the mountains we decided on the latter. It did mean that we would have to walk two days to get to the start along the road but I saw that as a warm up. We hired a porter and guide. To be honest we didn't really need to guide as Tony even started telling him which was the best route, but we decided on reflection as well as helping him to avoid 16hrs a day working in a kettle factory in Malaysia, he also acted as marriage mediator. With the guide: 'OK let's go this way our guide knows best, or perhaps a different route, I like your alternative Tony, and no problem Tony if you want to skip ahead, my guide is with me to break my fall as I slip down a crevice between two rocky outcrops. Without guide: 'Are you sure this is the right route? But how do you know? I know you can read a map but you've never been in the Himalaya! I told you we should have got a guide! I can't believe you're making us walk this far! I thought you said it was only.... and so on you get the drift. But happy days we got the guide and he soon became known as my shadow, you won't see a pic of me without him unless he took it.
So as you can imagine to get to the bottom of one of the highest mountains in the world (Annapurna is over 8000metres) you have to do a lot of walking up. Iknew that!!!!!! But I just didn't appreciate HOW MUCH walking up I had to do. In fact we had to climb 3000 metres but in order to do that we had to walk up and down 6000 metres. Yes, just as you felt that you couldn't walk up another step (the trail consisted of a lot of steep steps) but you felt proud of yourself that you'd achieved the top of a steep climb and knocked off a few hundred metres, you hoped to look out over a flat bit only to find that the bloody path went downhill again - all those metres gained were to be lost. And if they were lost you knew that this meant that they had to be climbed again (see earlier about base camp being high up - 4144 metres to be exact). I had a meltdown on Day 2 - I felt I couldn't go another step and suggested to Tony he went on his own to Base Camp (not an option). So I gave myself a serious talking to (mainly consisting of: 'It will be such an achievement" 'Who cares?' 'I can do it - I trained for it' 'What a couple of days in Dulwich Park' 'I'll let myself down' 'Yeah right'. And so it was on Day 3 I got up knowing there was another huge ascent but determined to get through it. And I did by striding on ahead ALONE while Tony and guide lagged behind (on purpose) - my only way of doing it was to imagine I was really fast and had to stride ahead while they couldn't catch up. It worked and I was so happy I did a little performance of 'The Hills are Alive...' much to the bemused guide and porter.
After that it was hard but fine. Oh and the views were spectacular. We got up at 5.30am every day to look at the mountains and set off at 7am. We walked about 5 hours a day then settled down in our tea house to watch the inevitable rain, chat to other trekkers and eat dal baht and drink Coke. The final push was to Machhapuchhare base camp at 3700m - it was a steep climb of 1250m that day - a killer. Apparently you can get altitude sickness at 3500m so of course I thought I had it once we got to MBC - well, I had a headache. And it was FREEZING but Machhapuchhare (Fishtail) was also majestic, moving (not literally) and Mahoosive! Then we got stuck in a hailstorm - great big lumps of ice that could knock you out I kid you not. So once in the dinning (sic) room we huddled under blankets, drank black tea, learned about the tetris mountains and life for a 20 something in Newfoundland and went to bed at 8pm. Well we were getting up at 4am to make our final ascent to Annapurna Base Camp.
I had struggled to walk on these treacherous paths in full daylight, so i was not looking forward to starting off in the dark with just a headtorch but luckily I had my brilliant white raincoat on so that added extra light. And in no time at all the sun lit up behind the peaks and gave the sky a brilliant orange glow, against which an amphitheatre of mountains revealed themselves to us. And suddenly all the steps, the trips, the falls the bad dal baht didn't matter at all because at last we reached the reason we had started this trek to surrounded by these awesome (with a capital 'O') mountains. For Tony, it was something he had read about for so many years, he knew the names of every peak (which was more than the guide did) and it was a culmination for him of all those stories of intrepid mountaineers who had attempted and succeeded and failed to climb these seemingly impenetrable peaks. Then we had pancakes and tea for breakfast and walked back down.
Of course the walk back down was harder, because we didn't have a goal, well we did: to enjoy every moment but also to get back to a pizza and beer. So it took us 7.5 days which we thought was pretty good going. Some people were up there for ages taking their time and maybe if we had been on our own we would have stayed longer, but we were feeling that we needed a bit of space from our guide and also needed to feel warmth in our bones again.
Now we are back in Pokhara, I feel ecstatic that this is the biggest physical challenge I have done. Saying that, I won't be doing it again (I know my limits) but it has made me realise what I can make this 46year old body do if I put my mind into it. As for Tony, Everest Base Camp for him next.... he was like a little mountain goat bless him. Pictures to follow as always.
Saturday 1 May 2010
Tangting Tales
Hi folks, we're back from two amazing weeks in Tangting. Sit down with a cuppa cos this could be a long read... So, a bit of perspective: Tangting is in the Kaski valley near Pokhara. There is no road to the village which is perched within view of the Annapurna range, 1600m above sea level. This means a hairy jeep ride on what is called a road but more a dirt track if it hasn't been washed away and a hike (a serious one) up to Tangting for 3.5hrs passing people with loads of stuff to take to the village carried on their heads in dokos (kind of baskets with a headband) or donkeys carrying cement. So that was our journey to TT, halted only by a quick diversion to help a man who had sunstroke but people thought he was on the way out - a drop of water and shade sorted him out (well done Dr Tony).
Tangting has 206 'houses' and everyone has a toilet which is a recent addition funded by the Netherlands - thanks Dutch people as this helped our sojourn in the village. We lived with a wonderful family: Didi, Mr Meyer, Soreta and Subas (the cutest 6yr old you've ever seen - we fell in love with him). The 'house' we stayed in was made of sand, stone and mud and we had to block up the holes in the walls in some attempt to stop the critters getting in - the main culprits of which were dangerous moths (I kid you not, we were warned they can blind you!). Our sleeping bags, and thermarests made the beds bearable but the mud floor was always slightly damp and we lived in fear that someone else might be posted to our room (we had been warned). This didn't happen but the guys finishing off the water project needed access to their supplies which for some reason were kept in with us and were needed about about 6.30am every day.
So before I talk about the school and our work, let me tell you about our daily life for two weeks. We were awakened about about 5am by the old lady next door shouting at her grandson to do some job or another or Didi shouting at hers to get to the field and help dad sow the seeds. We tried to sleep til 7am when we got up and washed using the cold water tap in the insect infested, cement room that was our toilet (squat) and bathroom. Sweet tea and a different 'breakfast' (roast potatoes, hard boiled eggs, fried rice looking like spaghetti, popcorn, and fried flour [I kid you not]) was served by our lovely Didi at 7.30am. We then looked at the Annapurna in all its beauty and prepared for school until 9.30am when we had our 'lunch' (dal soup, rice and different vegetables which were plucked from the ground and cooked fresh -delicious but hard to take at that time of day). Next we clambered over stones and cow pooh to school saying Namaste to a million children on the way. School started at 10am and finished at 4pm so unless we had a meeting it was back home (nothing to eat all day but a few nuts we brought and a cup of sweet tea), where we sometimes got a snack (see breakfast for details), played with the kids (volleyball, catch, chase) and chatted to the various people who visited or were staying at our place (well as much as we could in broken English). Then dinner at 7.30pm (see lunch) and bed by 9pm - for want of nothing else to do and tiredness. By the way, all meals were cooked by Didi over the fire in the lounge/bedroom where you would eat sitting of goat blankets or mats and she had a pressure cooker and a couple of pans for all meals and altered the temperature of the fire by moving sticks in and out. We got spoons but everyone else ate with their right hand. Didi's husband worked the field in the day and slept at the hydroelectric station at night where his job was to turn on and off the electricity in the village (electric went off at 9am and on at 4pm). We learned from the head teacher that this family up until 5 years ago lived a nomadic existence in the mountains looking after other people's cows with little shelter and scratching a living. He'd housed them in temp accommodation to get the kids into school but their future was uncertain. The children (13 and 6yrs) were fantastic and like all children were up at 5.30am working the field, running errands and breaking rocks into aggregate for the school and then carrying the 30kg weight on their backs to school, doing a full day at school, then home for more work, homework and a quick play of volleyball before bed about 11pm (we were well asleep). The village is a serious example of cooperative living, which of course appealed to our community spirited side and my need to 'never knowingly be alone'. What we loved was the way that people just dropped into each other's houses for a chat. And when they did turn up they were offered food (rude to refuse) and Roxy (the lethal local brew). Men and women did the visiting but onlymen were offered Roxy and they didn't visit together. One night we had a shindig at ours and much dancing and singing (one song, loads of verses) was done. We even did the Fields of Athenry one night. Our place was popular and we did a lot of talking informally with the head and teachers over the fire.
So to the school. The school was just starting a new academic year so students and teachers were arriving the first week we were there. The school is seriously basic with cement floors, broken windows (shards still attached - a health and safety nightmare) and grubby walls, no displays (a few posters in primary) and a blackboard. The children sat on benches with attached tables which looked like something out of Dickens. In fact the head said his place was like a display in a museum pre industrial revolution (yes, I know that doesn't sit with Dickens time, but forgive me history was never a strong subject) - agrarian farming at its finest (wooden plough pulled by buffalo, hand scything and threshing, hand made bags and mats). Back to the school, we found children from 4 to 16yrs who were desperate to learn and were the most well behaved children we had come across (maybe it was the 30kg stones they had to carry to school). They were sparky and enthusiastic and responded to our crazy attempts at moving their lessons from chalk and talk (and learning by rote ' this is a clock, what is it? It's a clock, this is a clock, what is it? It's a clock' and so on - really about 10 times) to something more creative and interactive. The teachers probably didn't know what hit them when we turned up and observed their classes for 3 days then proceeded to offer them an alternative to chalk and talk which involved them seeking out no-cost ideas for making learning fun and actually take place by getting the children to discover for themselves. The head teacher was definitely up for change and bless the teachers, most of them were willing to give it a go. It wasn't new as they had all had teacher training, it was just the applying the ideas. Due to some issues with the way teachers are recruited and trained and the unions they belong to and their low salaries (one teacher gets 35 pounds a month) apathy at times had set in. We also helped the head to address some strategic problems around planning (none existed) and the challenge of teaching in the English medium (which means that all lessons are taught in English - popular with parents) when you can't actually speak English yourself. A classic example of this was when we observed a class where the English teacher wrote perfect English on the board for the children to copy at the top level, and when Tony asked: "Where did you learn your English" couldn't understand a word (of course it could have been Tony's Yorkshire speak that threw him). That was a common problem, teachers being expected by the government to teach maths, science etc in English when they couldn't understand the books let alone speak the language. So it was a particular challenge to try and convey our ideas to them. It involved a lot of gesticulating and acting as well as just doing it in the classroom ourselves. We also taught 2 english classes (I don't think they learned much in mine, as I was bent on producing a quality display board to demonstrate that you could put things on the wall with a bit of paper and pen). We covered the classes, because another thing that happens here is that teachers go on training during school time, go off to do other jobs (the social history teacher was fixing the water taps for a week for no extra salary) and the fact that teachers only worked 6 out of 8 periods a day (reading the paper inbetween). That meant that at times some children were left without a teacher for 5 out of 8 periods. Did they cause havoc? No, they often came to the staff room to beg a teacher to teach them, or did their homework or went to the library. We did notice that the teachers never raised their voices at the children, were very loving towards them and this had a lot to do with the culture created by the head teacher who was always approachable to all children and teachers. He is very much like a community leader and had fingers in many pies to enable the success of the school. Despite being one of the best trained in his profession (apparently) he came back to his own village to try and help the children. His openness and community spirit was very much something that could be emulated by some heads I have come across.
So we had a great experience. Of course we had some low moments (dal again at 9.30am, killer moths, toilet issues - literally) but it was great to be without contact in clear air (beside the fires), no traffic, no noise and to see the Himalaya every morning. We also feel that we did some good in the school and we will write a report to the charity to let them know of our experience.
So now we are back in Pokhara for a bit of civilisation - internet, beer and pizza, and a hot shower. (Forgot to say that we had to wash our clothes with soap, scrubbing brush and cold water on the cement and in other news, met the famous honey hunters - and tasted delicious honey which can give you hallucinations - I kid you not - no such luck for us, we obviously didn't have enough). There is a Maoist strike starting from tomorrow so we don't know if shops, restaurants are open. Lots of demonstrating today, so a good day to stay on the computer. We're planning to do the Annapurna base camp trek from Tuesday if the strike is over. If not, then you'll hear from us sooner. Then it's off to another village school. Please comment if you can, we always like to hear what's happening in your world. XX
Tangting has 206 'houses' and everyone has a toilet which is a recent addition funded by the Netherlands - thanks Dutch people as this helped our sojourn in the village. We lived with a wonderful family: Didi, Mr Meyer, Soreta and Subas (the cutest 6yr old you've ever seen - we fell in love with him). The 'house' we stayed in was made of sand, stone and mud and we had to block up the holes in the walls in some attempt to stop the critters getting in - the main culprits of which were dangerous moths (I kid you not, we were warned they can blind you!). Our sleeping bags, and thermarests made the beds bearable but the mud floor was always slightly damp and we lived in fear that someone else might be posted to our room (we had been warned). This didn't happen but the guys finishing off the water project needed access to their supplies which for some reason were kept in with us and were needed about about 6.30am every day.
So before I talk about the school and our work, let me tell you about our daily life for two weeks. We were awakened about about 5am by the old lady next door shouting at her grandson to do some job or another or Didi shouting at hers to get to the field and help dad sow the seeds. We tried to sleep til 7am when we got up and washed using the cold water tap in the insect infested, cement room that was our toilet (squat) and bathroom. Sweet tea and a different 'breakfast' (roast potatoes, hard boiled eggs, fried rice looking like spaghetti, popcorn, and fried flour [I kid you not]) was served by our lovely Didi at 7.30am. We then looked at the Annapurna in all its beauty and prepared for school until 9.30am when we had our 'lunch' (dal soup, rice and different vegetables which were plucked from the ground and cooked fresh -delicious but hard to take at that time of day). Next we clambered over stones and cow pooh to school saying Namaste to a million children on the way. School started at 10am and finished at 4pm so unless we had a meeting it was back home (nothing to eat all day but a few nuts we brought and a cup of sweet tea), where we sometimes got a snack (see breakfast for details), played with the kids (volleyball, catch, chase) and chatted to the various people who visited or were staying at our place (well as much as we could in broken English). Then dinner at 7.30pm (see lunch) and bed by 9pm - for want of nothing else to do and tiredness. By the way, all meals were cooked by Didi over the fire in the lounge/bedroom where you would eat sitting of goat blankets or mats and she had a pressure cooker and a couple of pans for all meals and altered the temperature of the fire by moving sticks in and out. We got spoons but everyone else ate with their right hand. Didi's husband worked the field in the day and slept at the hydroelectric station at night where his job was to turn on and off the electricity in the village (electric went off at 9am and on at 4pm). We learned from the head teacher that this family up until 5 years ago lived a nomadic existence in the mountains looking after other people's cows with little shelter and scratching a living. He'd housed them in temp accommodation to get the kids into school but their future was uncertain. The children (13 and 6yrs) were fantastic and like all children were up at 5.30am working the field, running errands and breaking rocks into aggregate for the school and then carrying the 30kg weight on their backs to school, doing a full day at school, then home for more work, homework and a quick play of volleyball before bed about 11pm (we were well asleep). The village is a serious example of cooperative living, which of course appealed to our community spirited side and my need to 'never knowingly be alone'. What we loved was the way that people just dropped into each other's houses for a chat. And when they did turn up they were offered food (rude to refuse) and Roxy (the lethal local brew). Men and women did the visiting but onlymen were offered Roxy and they didn't visit together. One night we had a shindig at ours and much dancing and singing (one song, loads of verses) was done. We even did the Fields of Athenry one night. Our place was popular and we did a lot of talking informally with the head and teachers over the fire.
So to the school. The school was just starting a new academic year so students and teachers were arriving the first week we were there. The school is seriously basic with cement floors, broken windows (shards still attached - a health and safety nightmare) and grubby walls, no displays (a few posters in primary) and a blackboard. The children sat on benches with attached tables which looked like something out of Dickens. In fact the head said his place was like a display in a museum pre industrial revolution (yes, I know that doesn't sit with Dickens time, but forgive me history was never a strong subject) - agrarian farming at its finest (wooden plough pulled by buffalo, hand scything and threshing, hand made bags and mats). Back to the school, we found children from 4 to 16yrs who were desperate to learn and were the most well behaved children we had come across (maybe it was the 30kg stones they had to carry to school). They were sparky and enthusiastic and responded to our crazy attempts at moving their lessons from chalk and talk (and learning by rote ' this is a clock, what is it? It's a clock, this is a clock, what is it? It's a clock' and so on - really about 10 times) to something more creative and interactive. The teachers probably didn't know what hit them when we turned up and observed their classes for 3 days then proceeded to offer them an alternative to chalk and talk which involved them seeking out no-cost ideas for making learning fun and actually take place by getting the children to discover for themselves. The head teacher was definitely up for change and bless the teachers, most of them were willing to give it a go. It wasn't new as they had all had teacher training, it was just the applying the ideas. Due to some issues with the way teachers are recruited and trained and the unions they belong to and their low salaries (one teacher gets 35 pounds a month) apathy at times had set in. We also helped the head to address some strategic problems around planning (none existed) and the challenge of teaching in the English medium (which means that all lessons are taught in English - popular with parents) when you can't actually speak English yourself. A classic example of this was when we observed a class where the English teacher wrote perfect English on the board for the children to copy at the top level, and when Tony asked: "Where did you learn your English" couldn't understand a word (of course it could have been Tony's Yorkshire speak that threw him). That was a common problem, teachers being expected by the government to teach maths, science etc in English when they couldn't understand the books let alone speak the language. So it was a particular challenge to try and convey our ideas to them. It involved a lot of gesticulating and acting as well as just doing it in the classroom ourselves. We also taught 2 english classes (I don't think they learned much in mine, as I was bent on producing a quality display board to demonstrate that you could put things on the wall with a bit of paper and pen). We covered the classes, because another thing that happens here is that teachers go on training during school time, go off to do other jobs (the social history teacher was fixing the water taps for a week for no extra salary) and the fact that teachers only worked 6 out of 8 periods a day (reading the paper inbetween). That meant that at times some children were left without a teacher for 5 out of 8 periods. Did they cause havoc? No, they often came to the staff room to beg a teacher to teach them, or did their homework or went to the library. We did notice that the teachers never raised their voices at the children, were very loving towards them and this had a lot to do with the culture created by the head teacher who was always approachable to all children and teachers. He is very much like a community leader and had fingers in many pies to enable the success of the school. Despite being one of the best trained in his profession (apparently) he came back to his own village to try and help the children. His openness and community spirit was very much something that could be emulated by some heads I have come across.
So we had a great experience. Of course we had some low moments (dal again at 9.30am, killer moths, toilet issues - literally) but it was great to be without contact in clear air (beside the fires), no traffic, no noise and to see the Himalaya every morning. We also feel that we did some good in the school and we will write a report to the charity to let them know of our experience.
So now we are back in Pokhara for a bit of civilisation - internet, beer and pizza, and a hot shower. (Forgot to say that we had to wash our clothes with soap, scrubbing brush and cold water on the cement and in other news, met the famous honey hunters - and tasted delicious honey which can give you hallucinations - I kid you not - no such luck for us, we obviously didn't have enough). There is a Maoist strike starting from tomorrow so we don't know if shops, restaurants are open. Lots of demonstrating today, so a good day to stay on the computer. We're planning to do the Annapurna base camp trek from Tuesday if the strike is over. If not, then you'll hear from us sooner. Then it's off to another village school. Please comment if you can, we always like to hear what's happening in your world. XX
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