Wow…what a day?! I came close to taking a 2 hour nap before
dinner but then decided a blog entry may be better use of my time but holy
smokes this city can sure wear you out!
Today was my first day working at the Koseli School, an
elementary school serving the children from the slums, tucked away in a
cement-wall enclosed corner under the Bagmati River. While my work there has
already been incredibly eye opening, my day started with catching the bus.
Yesterday one of the sisters attempted to teach me the art
of catching a bus. This process consists of waiting on the sidewalk, slowly
inching your way into the violently moving, traffic infested, 7 lane (but
seriously) street, screaming the name of your district destination. The bus
boys are simultaneously screaming the final destination of his bus and somehow,
eventually, amongst the chaotic melody of honks, screams, whistles and stray
dogs barking, your district screaming finds a match. Once eye contact is made
with your district screaming bus boy match, the bus slows just enough for your
to grab the door and jump on! And that’s just catching the bus folks...
The school is located in Tinkune, a village about 6 miles
away from Maranjgunj (where my house is located), but this commute takes about
45 minutes. The bus ride is actually quite relaxing: a great time to people
watch, and practice Nepali with your neighbor. But then you have to dismount the moving vehicle and somehow
find your way. Yesterday sister made it look so simple. I swear, like homing
pigeons, she could be plopped anywhere in all of Kathmandu and find her way.
Well I must have left my Nepali homing pigeon senses at home
today because once I was plopped into Tinkune, the school’s district, I
wandered for an hour…yes an hour, in search of the alley way turn off toward
the school. After being almost knocked off my feet by a man with a bag of stolen fruit and then two armed police officers chasing after him, I was ready to catch the nearest cab and give up for the day. But thank goodness for my new friend, Aadesh, an English speaking
Nepali electrician on his way to a job interview, who spied my aimless wandering amongst this high speed, fruit thief, police chase, I finally found my way.
Ah...but descending the stairs down into the courtyard of
the Koseli school felt like home: the kids in their pristine uniforms running
from each schoolroom as their headmaster banged a spoon on a hanging pot, signaling
class rotation time.
While I’d originally thought I was going to be helping to
run the afterschool activity program, it seems that the greatest need at the
school right now is one-on-one English conversation instruction with a 16-year
old student, Ishwor. Abandoned by his family at age 12, Ishwor lives on the
Koseli school campus with one of the teachers and is 4 grade levels below his
fellow 16 year olds. He greeted me with a smirk of a smile, a curious squint in
his eyes, and a bow of his head “Namaste, thank you for coming.”
That’s all it took. The headache from my bus adventure,
blisters from my hour long lost trek through the whole village of Tinkune, and
embarrassment for showing up an hour late to my first day was completely healed
by the welcome of this sweet sweet boy.
Ishwor’s words have inspired my outlook on this whole
experience. Despite the noise, and sometimes overwhelming chaos of being in a
new, strange, place. Find peace and joy, and good job for embracing this new
kind of adventure, “Namaste, thank you for coming.”
We had a blast and the 4 hour session flew by, as we
exchanged stories of our past, our passions and our families. But I will need
to start prepping 4 hour long lesson plans for the future days haha so if any
of you have fun, creative English conversation lesson ideas please let me know!
As always, thanks so much for reading! I’ve posted a video
of the Koseli school below if you want more info. This is actually a video asking for funds so please please don't donate, I'm just posting it so you can see photos and the location itself.
Much love to you all. I hope your day is full of adventure!
-Al
Ishwor.
ReplyDeleteShoes.
Tears.
(You'll never be the same. But don't write a book about three plates of Dal Bhat or something.)