Travels

Whilst I have been eager to dispel misconceptions that my 'Gap Year in India' is a sightseeing excursion with a bit of light volunteering, that does not go to say that we are confined to the limits of Srirajni and Dhrangadhra for the entirety of our year. We are given the opportunity, at various points throughout the year, to embrace the traveller experience and work our way around the subcontinent. During term-time, we work 6 days a week, staying on beyond the final school bell to do lesson prep and marking, but this is rewarded by long holidays which give us plenty of time to travel.

During our break over Diwali (about a month ago), we travelled North to Rajasthan: the desertous land of ancient fortresses, lake palaces and camel treks. The overnight sleeper brought us into Udaipur, a city easily recognisable from the set of 'The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel'. Following this, we headed on to Jodhpur, often referred to as the 'Blue City' due to its abundance of traditional blue buildings which reside within the old city walls. The city has sprung up around the old fort which, situated upon a rocky outcrop, dominates the panorama from every angle. An imposing landmark, wandering around its battlements transported us back to earlier times of the Indian Maharajas and their royal courts, as we gazed at collections of palanquins (litters) and howdahs (traditional elephant seats), amongst an abundance of other riches.

With only 10 days off  before we had to head back to school, we felt robbed of time, so we're hopefully going to return in the summer. For now, all thoughts are turning to our five-week Christmas break and plans to travel South India.

School Trip!

Today was our first real experience of  a Srirajni school outing, with the annual school picnic. When first told about this, I had assumed that this would most probably involve a short walk, out of town and into the surrounding countryside. Instead, with an early morning start of 6:30am, teachers and students piled into the back of a truck (covered by a tarpaulin) and set off on the 3-hour journey  to Than.

Packed in like sardines, sitting on each others laps and clinging on for dear life, everyone was in high spirits. The roads in India leave a little to be desired so, as expected, it was far from a smooth ride, but this was more than made up for by the singing, conversation, clapping games and sharing of snacks. Every opened packet of crisps or snack box was thrust at us, accompanied by a forceful "Ma'am, do you want some?" and the refusal to take no for an answer (one boy told me that if I did not accept the crisp crumbs he had dug out of his pocket then he would not talk to me for the rest of the day; thankfully, he relented). I was even given the opportunity to earn extra 'teacher points' as I was assigned the less-than-glamorous task of cleaning up vomit.

Our final destination was a nature reserve near Than, arriving at a jungle-like microcosm, teeming with peacocks, and various other birds, as well as a multitude of insects.We started our walking tour, casually informed of the possibility of spotting snakes and jungle cats, and chaperoning a winding crocodile-line of students. Venturing out of this leafy cosmos into the more desertous and barren surrounding landscape, we scaled rocky outcrops, scavenged for berries and peacock feathers, and searched for bird's nests.

For many of the children, school trips are the only time that they venture out of town and experience the wider environment; it was wonderful to see them so enthusiastic, engaged and animated. I loved chatting to them on the way round, and messing about, being asked countless questions such as "Ma'am, who will you marry?" and "But Ma'am, WHY?". I really enjoy teaching them, but it was nice to be able to relax a bit, outside of the usual professional setting, and just appreciate their company.

After a packed picnic lunch and a play, we crammed back into the trucks and started the long journey back, stopping off at a temple en route. The children and I discovered that we have a mutual knowledge of Beatles' songs, notably 'Yellow Submarine' and 'Let It Be', which we belted out, arriving back exhausted but elated. Today has definitely been a real highlight of my time so far.

Diwali

Ever since I learnt about Diwali at primary school, I have wanted to experience it for myself. Also referred to as the Festival of Light, Hindu teachings tell us that earthen lamps (known as diyas) were lit and firecrackers set off to celebrate the return of Lord Rama, after 14 years in exile and his defeat of the demon king Ravana. These traditions have continued to the present, with Diwali becoming the biggest festival in the Hindu calendar.

Billed as 'Indian Christmas', anticipation has been building in Dhrangadhra and at school for weeks, as fairylights and decorations have been put up, street stalls have emerged and cards have been made. The children have been in heights of giddiness, as the 'end-of-term fever' set in, making teaching somewhat difficult.

At Srirajni, the festivities culminated with a special school celebration on the evening of the last day of term. Arriving early, the older students and teachers were divided into groups, with each group given the task of producing a rangoli. Rangoli is a traditional Indian art form consisting of  symbolic designs made from coloured sand/pigments, which are used to decorate public areas during Diwali. Dotted around school, the bright colours and intricate designs were truly beautiful. Alongside rangolis, little red footprints, representing those of the Goddess Lakhshmi, were painted outside doorways, diyas were lit and fairylights were turned on. By the time darkness descended and the younger children had arrived, the school was awash in light and colour.

Sweets were shared and the evening was brought to a close with a fireworks display. Needless to say, my first experience of Diwali did not disappoint.

The Desert

Gujarat is a dry state. This means one of two things; first, alcohol is illegal, and second, we live in a desert. Whilst our days are mostly limited to the parametres of the courtyard where we live and work, the cooler evenings are ideal for getting out of town and going for a walk. The desertous landscape is astoundingly beautiful, with its orange-red dusty terrain interspersed with patches of green. The low-lying shrubs seem to almost transport you to Africa for a minute, before the various native wildlife species make an appearance and bring us back to India. On a typical walk, we see blue bulls (a very weird animal which appears to be the result of a cross between a cow, deer and horse), buffalo cows and wild asses. This is the only place in India where you can spot the Indian wild ass, as it has all but disappeared from the rest of Asia. Upon entering an area of protected land a few weeks ago, we were casually informed by our host told to stay alert and keep the dogs on their leads as there could be wolves about. A little unnerving!

Our evening walks usually coincide with the Sun going down, setting the desert sky on fire. Awash in a multitude of colours, from pastel pinks and powder blues, to brilliant oranges and reds. The sky appears almost continuously on the point of melting. It really does take your breath away.

Life at Sri Rajini is pretty intense, with busy days and a heavy workload, so our evening walks provide a necessary contrast. They are a welcome release, putting things into perspective and rebooting energy levels. They are yet another part of my life here that I have started to treasure.

The Indian Wild Ass

Navratri

Navratri, the Festival of Nine Nights, came to its conclusion last night. This Hindu festival honours the goddesses Durga, Lakshmi and Saraswati, in a spectacular display of dancing. Every night, people gather to whirl the night away in garba or dandiya rasa circle dances until the early hours (many of my students have been coming into school, having stayed out as late as 2am the preceding night), dressed in elaborate finery. Whilst celebrated all over India, Gujarat has claimed it as its own and it has become a prominent highlight of the Gujarati calendar.

Although I have to admit that I have not been dancing the night away for the last nine nights (Navratri is the longest dance festival in the world), I managed a solid two as I participated in the school's celebrations last weekend. Held in the palace courtyard, centred on the vrajsthali (a raised platform), the evening started and ended with ceremony. A shrine, honouring the goddess Lakshmi, had been erected and decorated with fine cloths, candles and flower petals, and the concentric rings of dancers encircled this. Following the utterings of prayers, songs were sung, musicians struck up their drums and the dancing started. The evening had begun.

Circles of dancers formed and my students dragged me in, showing me the simple steps which I was to repeat until the dance changed. Contrary to their insistent claims of "Ma'am, these dances are very easy," my initial steps were admittedly clumsy, with arms and legs flaying in the wrong directions, turning out rather than in, moving forwards rather than back etc. However, once I'd got the hang of it, it did not seem so difficult; I just had to follow the lead of the person in front. This continued for the next couple of hours, with circles forming, disbanding and coming together again, as the dances changed and the children moved round.

A major part of the festivities is, of course, the age-old dilemna of 'What to Wear?' We'd been informed that Navratri was the time to go 'all-out' Indian style and adorn ourselves in as much gold, embroidery, beads, sequins and shine as possible; apparently, there is no such thing as too much bling! I fully embraced this opportunity, bravely rejecting my natural inclinations to dress simply in 'safe colours', as I suited myself in the traditional Chaniya choli. This three-piece dress consists of a choli (a cropped blouse), teamed with chaniya (a long, flared skirt) and dupatta (a scarf-like covering), accessorised by bangles and, of course, the compulsory bindi. I've never worn anything like it and felt like a princess!

Navratri has been a real highlight of my time here, so far; a definite taste of the colourful Indian culture that I had imagined.

Dhrangadhra

This is Dhrangadhra, the rural town in Gujarat state that has become my new address.

Whilst walking into town back in Ripon may have involved a friendly encounter with someone I knew and a takeaway coffee, walking into town here involves a whole lot more. No one seems to use the pavements, instead pedestrians share the roads with a barrage of cars, motorbikes, bikes, autos (automated rickshaws) and cows (and sometimes pigs). This chaotic system seemingly has some sort of order and negotiation, as vehicles weave in and out, largely controlled by the honking of horns.

Besides the hustle and bustle of the roads, there is also the stares that we seem to attract. As young, 'white girls' it is understandable that we stand out, with passers-by shouting out 'Hello!' and 'Where are you from?'. It is a largely friendly atmosphere, as stallholders call after us; the other day, we stopped at a stall selling coconuts (which you drink out of using a straw) and were asked for our photos. Strange and surreal, it will take a bit of time to get used to and find our way round, but just embracing it seems the best way to go!

At the coconut stall

Sports Day and Saris

Last weekend marked the annual school Sport's Day. This was mentioned to us a few weeks ago, and I had just presumed that this would involve the usual sprint, relay, egg and spoon races etc. The reality was so much better.

The whole event kicked off with the students running around the track, in formation, to the drill of a whistle. This was followed by an 'en masse' gymnastics routine, before the competitive events began. With events ranging from eating a banana as fast as possible, to burying faces in dishes of flour in search of coins, to blowing up a balloon until it pops. Instead of an egg and spoon race, there was a lemon and spoon race; consumption of eggs goes against the religious beliefs of many of the local people.

The cycling race and obstacle relay were highly contested events, drowned out by chants of "SPS" (Srirajni Primary School). Health and safety was thrown out of the window as the ten cyclists lined up together on the track and then proceeded around the course, narrowly avoided missing the children who had been selected as martials for the event.

I was introduced to the traditional Indian game of kabaddi (a team game involving wrestling/tag and continual chanting of "kabaddi kabaddi kabaddi kabaddi") and was compelled to join in with the teachers vs students game of musical chairs . I managed to rake in a bronze medal position which I was very pleased with; running around in a sari is no easy task!

Sports Day, as an important school function, involved us having to wear saris for the first time. In their endless array of patterns and colours, I am sure that I will be returning home with a small wardrobe of them. However, NO ONE tells you how difficult they are to tie: a blur of folds, pleats, pins and tucks. Definitely a skill that I'm going to have to master. Thankfully, day-to-day wear here consists of the traditional Salwar Kameez (baggy trousers, tunic and scarf), so 7:30am sari tying is not something I have to worry about. I have over month now to hone my sari skills before the next big occasion, DIWALI.

Katie looking cute

RAT ATTACK

We have a rat problem. Welcome to the less glamorous reality of living in India.

I have an irrational (and fairly extreme) fear of rats, so when a brown, rodent-shaped creature suddenly appeared at the top of the staircase whilst we were watching TV, you can probably imagine my hysterical reaction. It scampered down the stairs and disappeared - I sent Katie to thoroughly investigate and she found nothing.

We tried to forget about it, until we were woken in the night by the sound of clattering plates and pans; clearly, our rodent friend had decided to investigate the contents of last night's dinner (we do not have any washing up facilities in our rooms so we have to wait until morning for our dishes to be cleared by the staff).

Having informed the staff of our less-than-welcome visitor, a trap was set.

Entering the room the next day weirdly felt a bit like Christmas, as we came to see whether we had caught the rat or not. The result was as follows: Visiting Teachers 1, Rat 0. It was later taken away to the outskirts of town and released (it woud be too disorientated to return). The strongly Hindu and Jain local population is largely vegetarian/vegan, with a strong respect for animals; hence why the rat was not killed.

We have since had another little friend pop by, so measures are being taken to rat-proof our living quarters. We no have a sealed cupboard for dirty plates and there are plans to seal the loose trapdoor at the top of the staircase (from which they are entering).

By the end of this year, I am sure that I will be over my phobia - immersion therapy is definitely helping. As someone mentioned to me, if we have already seen two rats in our short time here, imagine how many more there are that we can't see. And on that note...

Life at Srirajini

A Gap Year in India. Hearing these words often brings to mind images of backpacking along tourist trails, selfies with the Taj Mahal and partying in Goa.Whilst I may well do all of these things, I am mainly here to work. I am  a volunteer teacher at Srirajini Primary School, Dhrangadhra.

My 'teacher' name

Established over 30 years ago by my host Ba, the school resides in a corner of the palace grounds. Students from the ages of three to thirteen attend from a wide range of different backgrounds (scholarships are widely available), learning the skills they need to equip them for a bright future. Srirajini is a largely English-medium school and, unlike many Indian schools, strong emphasis is placed upon core values such as gender equality and an intolerance of the prejudiced social caste system. It is clearly a very special place.

So far, my role involves teaching students from the Fifth to Eighth Standards (roughly nine to thirteen years old) a range of different subjects, including English, Civics, Physics, Biology and Computing, as well as running Art & Craft projects. The day starts at 8:30am and finishes at 1:40pm, so as to avoid the heat of the afternoon. Whilst a 1:40pm finish may seem like I'm getting off likely, this does not include the 2-3 hours of lesson prep that I then have to do for the next day. Having just left school, with limited life experience and no teaching qualifications, I have well and truly thrown myself in at the deep end. Despite these many challenges (a large one being merely that of trying to keep the class quiet *), I can already tell that this is going to be a very rewarding experience. I have been given an incredible opportunity and intend to seize it with both hands.

The weekly timetable

*Note: I am sorry to every teacher that I ever misbehaved for

I've arrived!

First blog post.

Arrived at my new home in Dhrangadhra nearly a week ago, now (although it already feels like I've been here much longer!). Our host, referred to as Ba, is married to the youngest son of the former Maharaja (ruler) of Dhrangadhra; we are staying in the old royal palace of the Dhrangadhra Princely State.This setting is incredible! Over 200 years old, it is decorated with countless antiques and stone carvings from the time of the royals. My living quarters open out into the courtyard, shown in the photo, which is filled with trees and an array of wildlife. This courtyard, the old women's quarters of the palace, is where I live and work.

A stone carving of a Hindu God.
The courtyard temple is the founding
site of Dhrangadhra. 

A Ringneck Parrakeet

Northern palm squirrel