Oh my goodness, i'm on holiday. How liberating.
Volunteering is over, a bit of a shame, but i'll only miss the kids. Not the Indian education system.
Anyway, yesterday I arrived in Hampi. It's a small, historical packed full of Hindu temples, some small, some big. They all look very similar. Unfortunately, the best and most picturesque hit me almost as soon as I got off the bus. This raised the bar somewhat in terms of expectations leaving the rest to seem a little bit disappointing.
The settings surroundings this holy place is pretty good, but there's no meat and no alcohol.
But there is plenty of white people around. I'd only been here for about 15 minutes and the white-0-meter was already into double figures.
Good times.
Tomorrow, it's off to Mumbai. One of the biggest cities in the world, I do believe. It will be some shock I think. I've been cruising around rural India for 4 and a half months and all of a sudden I have cinemas, restaurants and bars thrust upon me. I have no idea, what Mumbai will be like but I can't wait for McDonalds, KFC, popcorn, english films, coffee and of course Fruit Loops.
Discovery of the month by the way, turns out that a shop in Manvi sold Fruit Loops, the colourful and delectable American cereal. Such a shame that we found out on our last day in Manvi. We didn't even have milk, so we ate them dry. They were still good, as you can imagine i'm sure.
I'm quite sure I will invest in a bowl and a spoon in Mumbai, then after applying the Fruit Loops and cold milk an early morning ecstasy shall ensue.
I can't remember if i've mentioned this or not in this blog but come June 1st, I will be in Thailand.
Just like that.
Us Stoers are a multi-dimensional bunch. We do not live life in such a narrow alley way as to stick to the one country when seeking asiatic adventure. So Thailand it is and delightful it shall be. I still return on the same date, so for all those back home do not cry into your pillow tonight. All is still well, give it just over 3 weeks and i'll be back home. Probably playing Football Manager 09.
Thanks for reading.
Ed x
Monday, 18 May 2009
Monday, 4 May 2009
It's been a long time since my last blog post, i apologise to all my avid readers (Paul Henderson) for not posting anything for the last few weeks.
I have actually been quite busy.
The month of April was a good one to be honest. Me & Sarah returned to Manvi, the place we were supposed to be all along. Quite quickly after coming back we realised what we'd been missing:
1) Stuff to do.
2) Kids that actually liked us.
As bizarrely endearing as the children in Mundgod were there was a reason they were dropouts, nothing to do with a lack of education, but they weren't that pleasant.
More to the point, in Manvi I was reacquainted with some old friends;
Murthi - the angriest young child in Western India
Sharanappa - the big brother of the "angriest young child in Western India' combining to form the angriest family in the region as well.
Madhu - the world's biggest suck up. "Edmund, you are very strong" he said as I marked his classwork.
Nagaraj - word's can barely describe this boy. He's the most enthusiastic remedial student i've ever seen. He's also the most gormless child i've ever met.
" 'What's the capital of America?'
'Russia!' "
Before Summer camp began on April 17th. I was given a class to have as my sole responsibility within the hostel. Upsettingly, that sole responsibility was to be the hostel's singing teacher.
At times it was equally disturbing for the children as it was difficult for me.
After a week we had exhausted the Boney M cd that Anil, the dance teacher, had lent me.
If you ever come to Loyola School (recently renamed St. Xaviers) in Manvi, you may have the pleasure of hearing a few children gently singing any one of "Rivers of Babylon", "Brown Girl in the ring", "The Calypso Carol" (a christmas song in April, how Indian) and my personal favourite "Never Gonna Give You Up".
All thanks to me to be honest, all thanks to me.
In fact, I was a little disappointed we never got a chance to get stuck into Boney M's version of "No Woman, No Cry" originally done by the People's Champion, Bob Marley, a hero of my Father's youth.
SUMMER CAMP
When Summer Camp kicked off it was a wholly disorganised affair. As a Stoer, i was deeply ashamed to be a part of this shambles, what with our unrelenting policy of offering the highest quality whilst educating the future generations.
Eventually however, our timetables were sorted out.
I'm a science and maths teacher apparently, but I can teach whatever I wish.
The problem lies within the mixed groups. I have some children who are some of the cleverer pupils from 9th Standard jumbled in with the "less able" 5th standard children.
What further confuses things is when children in 9th Standard don't know things they should have been taught three years before and when the 5th Standard children know absolutely nothing at all.
Oh, and also, i've noticed Indian children have a compulsion to lie about how good they are at something. So they give me the impression they're all burgeoning talents in the field of maths and science before they brutally brought me back down to earth when I started up on Fractions.
Finally, I had to move out of the room I was staying in because of some Rats.
I shared a room with Anil, the dance teacher and several enormous bags of rice.
The rats lived in the pipes under our bathroom.
It really is quite an unfortunate experience whilst taking a shower to have a rat emerge from the drain and scuttle out of the bathroom underneath the door.
It happened more than once as well.
At one point I was sitting in my room and saw a group of 10-12 rats having a little party in the corner of my room by the rice bags.
They're much faster and more agile than i'd have thought. They can scale the windows if they wish. Breaking point came when, during a powercut, a walked into the bathroom with my torch to find a rat on top of the shower head.
I'm now in a new room though, so everything is good. I've got used to the heat even though it's in the low 40's and i'm okay with the food because i've actually forgotten what good food tastes like.
Anyway, i've written a lot. I'm quite tired.
Thank you for reading. Ed x
I have actually been quite busy.
The month of April was a good one to be honest. Me & Sarah returned to Manvi, the place we were supposed to be all along. Quite quickly after coming back we realised what we'd been missing:
1) Stuff to do.
2) Kids that actually liked us.
As bizarrely endearing as the children in Mundgod were there was a reason they were dropouts, nothing to do with a lack of education, but they weren't that pleasant.
More to the point, in Manvi I was reacquainted with some old friends;
Murthi - the angriest young child in Western India
Sharanappa - the big brother of the "angriest young child in Western India' combining to form the angriest family in the region as well.
Madhu - the world's biggest suck up. "Edmund, you are very strong" he said as I marked his classwork.
Nagaraj - word's can barely describe this boy. He's the most enthusiastic remedial student i've ever seen. He's also the most gormless child i've ever met.
" 'What's the capital of America?'
'Russia!' "
Before Summer camp began on April 17th. I was given a class to have as my sole responsibility within the hostel. Upsettingly, that sole responsibility was to be the hostel's singing teacher.
At times it was equally disturbing for the children as it was difficult for me.
After a week we had exhausted the Boney M cd that Anil, the dance teacher, had lent me.
If you ever come to Loyola School (recently renamed St. Xaviers) in Manvi, you may have the pleasure of hearing a few children gently singing any one of "Rivers of Babylon", "Brown Girl in the ring", "The Calypso Carol" (a christmas song in April, how Indian) and my personal favourite "Never Gonna Give You Up".
All thanks to me to be honest, all thanks to me.
In fact, I was a little disappointed we never got a chance to get stuck into Boney M's version of "No Woman, No Cry" originally done by the People's Champion, Bob Marley, a hero of my Father's youth.
SUMMER CAMP
When Summer Camp kicked off it was a wholly disorganised affair. As a Stoer, i was deeply ashamed to be a part of this shambles, what with our unrelenting policy of offering the highest quality whilst educating the future generations.
Eventually however, our timetables were sorted out.
I'm a science and maths teacher apparently, but I can teach whatever I wish.
The problem lies within the mixed groups. I have some children who are some of the cleverer pupils from 9th Standard jumbled in with the "less able" 5th standard children.
What further confuses things is when children in 9th Standard don't know things they should have been taught three years before and when the 5th Standard children know absolutely nothing at all.
Oh, and also, i've noticed Indian children have a compulsion to lie about how good they are at something. So they give me the impression they're all burgeoning talents in the field of maths and science before they brutally brought me back down to earth when I started up on Fractions.
Finally, I had to move out of the room I was staying in because of some Rats.
I shared a room with Anil, the dance teacher and several enormous bags of rice.
The rats lived in the pipes under our bathroom.
It really is quite an unfortunate experience whilst taking a shower to have a rat emerge from the drain and scuttle out of the bathroom underneath the door.
It happened more than once as well.
At one point I was sitting in my room and saw a group of 10-12 rats having a little party in the corner of my room by the rice bags.
They're much faster and more agile than i'd have thought. They can scale the windows if they wish. Breaking point came when, during a powercut, a walked into the bathroom with my torch to find a rat on top of the shower head.
I'm now in a new room though, so everything is good. I've got used to the heat even though it's in the low 40's and i'm okay with the food because i've actually forgotten what good food tastes like.
Anyway, i've written a lot. I'm quite tired.
Thank you for reading. Ed x
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