Slummin' it...literally

Visiting the slum school took forever to happen. Three weeks after I met with a woman who is involved with the school, I still had not been able to visit. First she arranged the visit for one week after our meeting. Then, in the days leading up to the visit, when we tried to reach her to arrange a specific time, she would not answer or return our calls. Once another week had passed, I finally succeeded in speaking to her, but was again left waiting for her to arrange an exact day and time. Another week went by, and finally on Tuesday I was able to go visit.

She had called my mother-in-law on Monday morning, but she didn't wake me up so that I could go that day. So she tentatively set it for Tuesday at 9am, depending on when my brother-in-law goes to play tennis. Well I knew if I was dependent on him for a ride, I would not be able to go at 9am because he would not leave the house before 10:30. So Monday evening, I asked my MIL if she had spoken to the woman to set the time. She had not. I asked for her number so I could call her. She would not give it to me.

My evening phone call with hubby consisted of me, yet again, venting about his family. It took him calling his mother directly, and what sounded like a very heated phone conversation (I really need to learn these languages!) before he was able to tell me that she should give me the woman's address and phone number (and if I didn't have it within 15 minutes to let him know) and that I would be allowed to arrange a rickshaw to take me, rather than waiting around on my in-laws (all of whom would be home at the time I needed to leave, but of course none of them can be bothered to give me a ride...or rickshaw money).

So I finally secured the woman's phone number, and called her directly to set a time. She told me to come by 9am, and I told her I would arrange a rickshaw to bring me. I called up the rickshaw walla and asked him to pick me up at home at 8:30. We live in BFE and rickshaw drivers don't come here. It's nowhere near anything, so they can't generally get a return fare from here. Hence the need to arrange a rick in advance.

At 8:28, my mother-in-law tells me that this auntie had called her in the morning, and asked that I come at 9:30 instead. My brother-in-law was going by there on his way to the dentist at 10 (an appointment that was apparently scheduled after 10pm the night before, because no one seemed to know about it then), so he would drop me. I was fully expected to call up the rickshaw driver, who was at that moment pulling up in front of our house, and cancel. Even though he had driven so far out of his way and would not now be able to get a fare.

Instead, I called the auntie and explained the situation, and asked if it was alright if I still came at 9. Of course, it was. So I went. And my in-laws watched with a mixture of disbelief and disapproval. I really was expected to send the driver away, and then sit on my hands for an hour waiting. No thank you.

I reached the auntie's house with no problems, and from there her driver took us to the school (the name of which is Kilbil and always makes me giggle). They have two separate schools, a nursery school and a kindergarten-10th school. In India, after the 10th grade students go to "junior college" which is more focused towards their fields of study. They can go to schools for the sciences, commerce, or arts (at least I think that's all of them), but those two years are outside the realm of general schooling.

We visited the nursery school first. All of the children were about two and a half to three years old. There were more than 60 kids per teacher. And they were the most well-behaved kids imaginable. They all sat in neat little rows, quietly working on their pasting and scribbling skills. When they were done, they cleaned up all stray scraps of paper from the floor and put them in the trashcan. Two years old! Cleaning! When I went to the other school for the older kids, I saw the same thing. Model behavior from the students, and creative and passionate teaching.

I wonder what my mother-in-law would think about me sending my kids to a slum school?

The teachers are incredibly invested in what they do. Some have been there for 20 years. They could get higher salaries at other schools, but they stay because they love their principal. 

On Wednesday, I visited the school again. It was decided that I would come to the auntie's house by 7:30 to have breakfast before going to the school. My mother-in-law, surprisingly, said she would drop me to her house. She would just go to the gym an hour later than usual. When I asked if that would really be alright for her (what can I say? I was in disbelief), she responded that when it comes to doing things for me and her kids, it is never a problem. 

Come again? I think perhaps someone else had invaded her body. It was still there in the morning when she not only kept her promise to drop me off but said she would pick me up as well. But by afternoon, when she refused to answer my phone calls for 2 hours until I found another way home, the alien had clearly left.

I again visited the nursery school first. Within twenty minutes of the kids' arrival, I had blood, snot and urine on me. Man I miss working with kids!

The children (remember they are 2 and 3 years old) were learning "Twinkle twinkle little star." But rather than just learn the song by memorization, the teachers had completely darkened a room with black paper and put silver stars everywhere. They wanted the children to know where and when you see stars, what stars are, everything. Not just a song. When they learn about a particular color, everything in the school is that color for the entire day. The clothes, desks, wall decorations, everything. These kids will never forget what "red" is.

Once the nursery school was over for the morning, I shifted to the other school. The morning session was younger kids, kindergarten through 2nd grade (or "standard" as they say here). I was able to sit and observe a class, and got to see how vastly different schooling here is from the U.S.

In the U.S., teachers are told what and how to teach. They don't get to exercise much creativity in their lesson plans because someone else dictates the best way for kids to learn. Except whoever it is that decides this stuff doesn't seem to know anything about kids. At this school, teachers are able to teach the lessons in whatever way will work best for their students, and they are so committed to it, as evidenced by the "Twinkle twinkle" lesson.

In the U.S., the kids who get good grades and get the answers right in class are picked on. Smart kids dumb themselves down to avoid looking like a geek. Here, it's the kids who get the answers wrong who get picked on. Everyone wants to be the best and smartest one in the class. The class I observed was a 1st grade class. They were working on their handwriting (cursive) and their multiplication tables. Now, I don't remember what grade I learned multiplication and cursive writing, but I'm pretty damn sure it wasn't 1st grade. No wonder when Indian kids move to the U.S. their parents complain the homework isn't challenging enough! 

The biggest difference, I would say, is discipline. In the U.S. today, many parents don't even spank their own kids, let alone allow a teacher to do it. Parents are so quick to jump all over the school if their child is reprimanded in any way, that teachers are left with very few options to discipline their students. Not so in India. When one child continued to chatter after the teacher silenced the class, the teacher called the student a mouse and drew whiskers on his face with such force it broke the chalk. When one student hit another, the teacher smacked him on the head. Students who misbehaved were made to stand on their chairs for the remainder of the lesson. But very rarely did any of the students misbehave, so it must be working. Even with a person who was not just new, but also foreign, in the classroom, there were only a handful of incidents of misbehaving or not paying attention.

After the morning session ended at 12, and before the afternoon session for the older kids began at 12:30, I was able to speak with some of the teachers. They wanted to know how schools work in the U.S. and how different subjects are taught. They wanted to learn how we Americans do things. Unfortunately, after watching them all morning, I felt like they had more to teach us than the other way around. Each teacher is responsible for a class probably 2 or 3 times the size of a class in the U.S., and yet they always maintain discipline, the kids always learn and remember the lessons, and they always manage to give each child some individual attention.

Keep in mind that these are kids growing up in a slum. They know nothing of the world outside their slum, and they've never been given any opportunities. The teachers could make them memorize just a small thing to recite to their parents each day, and the families would be satisfied that their kids are learning because they don't know any better. But instead, the teachers give their all and do their best to ensure these kids get a real education. Thanks to them, these kids will receive all of their schooling, something that rarely occurs in the slums as many children are sent to work instead, they can't afford tuitions or schools just won't accept them. These children will also be proficient in English, something that is now required if they are to have a fighting chance of getting out of the slum.