Small moments.

Simple things.
Keeping track of things is easy. My planner is in my bag. My phone is on my desk.

Keeping track of memories is harder. What was the first meal I ate in India? How did I perceive things when we touched down in Cochin? Surely I remember them now (Dosa and chamandi, everything is colorful and scary), but will I remember how spicy I thought the chamandi was two years from now? Will I remember the jovial and confused faces of my kindergarteners when I tried to teach them the 'v' sound? Maybe I will, or maybe I will file these precious gems away to be glimpsed only when I smell the pungently tangy aura of coconut chamandi.

Each day is beautifully uneventful and simple. From time to time we have a large festival, or feast, or some type of cultural celebration. And these moments are cacophonous, and aromatic, and wonderfully tasty on the lips of my memories. Each parish feast or temple festival is louder than the last, with more colorful sarees and more drummers surviving only on spectator energy in the stifling heat of midday. It's cultural experiences like this that I will absolutely never forget. But it's the simple things that I hope to hold onto more.

Kindergarten has a really tough time properly pronouncing the letter 'v'. It always comes out as a 'w' so vehicle sounds like wehicle, and love sounds like lowe. It stems from their mother tongue, which doesn't make much use of the teeth or the lips when producing language. So once or twice every class we will come across a word with a 'v' and everyone will pronounce it as if it were a 'w'. I will pause, and then begin the most fun game I like to play. Their faces when they try to mimic the way I place my top teeth on my bottom lip to produce the 'v' sound is, without any shadow of a doubt, the funniest and best part of my day every time we do this exercise. Even after 8 months it is impossible for me to keep a straight face. So then I start laughing and they start laughing and we're all off track but damn they're cute. It's beautiful. That laughter. I want to remember that laughter.

When we're not attending a feast, or marriage/ baptism/ first communion on the weekends, we are enjoying the slowness of village life. Even though it's the weekend I still wake up around the same time I would for school. Not because I set an alarm, but because there is an incredibly hungry young bird in the trees somewhere right outside my window. He or she dictates when I rise. We have an understanding though, if it's before 6 am we are going back to sleep at least until the sun rises. It could very well be annoying to be woken up between the hours of 5:30 and 6:30 on the days I can sleep in, but I love the melody too much. The sweet chirps are innocent, and I should get up and enjoy the cool misty air of the morning before it becomes blisteringly hot.

During the weekend days I spend a lot of time with goats. They are my new favorite animal. We have 8 of them. One mama, two duplicate sets of babies, and one odd ball named Sammy who was a gift for Father Johny. In June when we arrived, mama had the first set of babies. Two boys and a girl; Ron, Harry, and Hermoine. Just two weeks ago, mama had her second set of babies; again two boys and a girl named Emma, Patrick, and Philip. Got a goat? I'll name it. I'll also befriend it. They really get me, and I thoroughly enjoy their presence. I was present for the birth of the second set. I had never seen any kind of animal give birth before that. It was very slippery.  Loads of fluids involved. And it was a bewilderingly beautiful process. Mama knew what to do, and so did the babies. They  popped out, woke up, inhaled their first breaths of air, and immediately started to make their way to the food source. She licked them clean and after all was said and done the new family took a well deserved nap. I was not present for the birth of Ron, Harry, and Hermoine but we bonded anyways. Ron is my favorite. Harry can be kind of an asshole and Hermoine was always the biggest and strongest. It's  hysterical to see their personalities mirrored in the new babies. Emma was the first to be born and is the spunkiest and most adventurous. Her brothers are always sleeping and following mom, while Emma likes to explore, at a safe distance, away from mom. Do I sound like a crazy goat lady? Probably. But they're my friends! I feed them the mushy bananas no one will eat, and the peels of the ones we do eat and they love me for it!

Then there are the peaceful weekend afternoons we spend walking through Aymanam, visiting teachers and students. This weekend we visited one teacher and spent the whole afternoon talking. These types of moments are the ones that may be less likely to remain cemented in my immediate memory, but are the most important to keep with me as these are the times where I get the most beautifully honest insights into this deeply complex culture. While some of the traditions can seem backwards to my western mind, they are second nature to this culture. Trying to understand, and respect, the honesty with which people can accept such customs is the most valuable lesson in tolerance that I will ever have. Tolerance not only to appreciate the differences between my native culture, and the culture that surrounds me, but also tolerance to appreciate parts of my own culture that I myself may not agree with. It's extraordinarily comforting to find the mirrored experiences in my life and the lives of others. Defining ourselves with checked boxes does little more than identify the location of our birth. Because if we explore more deeply into the cavernous depths of our personalities we are not so different after all. Even myself and this teacher, with whom we spent the afternoon talking, are not so different. Despite being a generation apart we have similar desires; to travel, to be self-sufficient, to love and be loved. And even though they are separated by the swift hands of time, we also share similar fears; of marriage, and of what the future of growing old holds for us. It's true we all grow up in different worlds, but at the core we are mostly the same. We are all connected by the experience that is being human. 

Reflections on First World Problems

Have you ever found a solitary bug in or around your bed and thought very seriously of sleeping elsewhere for the night? No? Just me?

These reflections are brought to you by the infestation of late; my new buddies who love to snuggle up at night and share my pillow and my dreams. Ants. But of course not just any ants, the ones that bite. 

Our mattresses are made of coconut fiber, and everyone says this is great for your back. But what they don't say is that it's also great for ants, because these little guys really seem to love it! I think the first infestation began only a few months into our stay. Both of us were affected, and after putting the mattresses in the sun and rubbing some tea tree oil on the bed frame it seemed to do the trick. We were sleeping alone again for a while. Im not sure what it is that prompts their return, but every so often I find myself waking up to tiny little red ants biting me in places that I do not wish to be bit. 

Recently however, the ant infestation was so great I actually marched upstairs and stole one of the new mattresses from the (empty) dormitory. I woke up one morning to the feeling of the ants crawling on me, and thought, "whatever we can peacefully coexist, I don't even feel the bites anymore." But when I got out of bed and peeled my bedsheet back to assess the damage, I saw that it was the worse than any gathering of my little friends that I had experienced yet. They even began to chew hundreds of holes through my bottom sheet (I keep two sheets on the mattress explicitly for this purpose). So I did as I usually do, took my sheets off, threw them in the wash, and lugged the mattress up to the terrace to lay it in the sun. But this time, as I passed the dormitory (that has yet to be used ) I decided to take one of the still-plastic-covered, brand-new mattresses that was just begging for me to use it. Really I'm doing the mattress a favor. It was unable to fulfill its true mattresshood by simply lying neglected on an unused cot.  

I won't even pretend to say we enjoyed a peaceful coexistence, those damn ants and I. But I did learn how much my bug tolerance has changed. Despite my efforts over many months, there was no way to permanently exterminate the ants in my bed. Even now, there is a good chance they will come back, as my new mattress is still one made of coconut fibers. And when they do come back, we will do our dance again and again, each time with more acceptance. I don't want to accept biting ants during my quiet slumbers, but at least they're not the giant spiders! It seems that here, each time a previously held boundary is pushed, I allow it to move. So many boundaries, fears, and peeves have been shrunk. Who knew that I, the compulsive neat freak, could wake up in the middle of the night to the feeling of fresh ant bites and the promise of more to come, and simply shrug, roll over, and fall back to sleep? I did not see that's for myself. And yes it's a very small problem comparatively speaking, but it's a personality win in my book! 

Time is a Loose Concept

Ok ok ok so it's been a month and a half since my last blog, sorry parents. Time is a loose concept so let's pretend it's only been a week and a half.

It's already November and I am not exactly sure where the last four and a half months went. How can it feel as though we have only been here for a few weeks, while it also feels like we have been here for a few years? Time. It passes and passes and becomes so skewed in our perception that we are consistently unsure of our place in this invisible, intangible temporal spectrum. It's easy to get lost in time here. The days are seemingly long, but they slip away as if it were only minutes. Yes of course I am exaggerating a little, we have many days that are excruciatingly never-ending. But looking back on all the photos and adventures we have had since our arrival plunges me back to these moments that are still so fresh in my memory, and makes them appear to have happened only seconds ago. At the culmination of each week, we reach Friday and I am faced with the reminder that this year will come to an end. I know, Slow down Molly you're not yet halfway there! But these kinds of reminders are incredibly valuable, because it gives us no choice but to be unwaveringly aware of the swift passage of time, and hopefully encourage us to take full advantage of our position in this moment in time. For example, I was really hoping to solidify verb tenses in my Language Lab classes by next month, but I am not exactly on track to achieve this. So, I must reorganize, rethink, and restructure some of my lessons and then re-attack them with fervor!

Additionally, I must be better at documenting the passage of these moments. While they all feel so close in time now, they will soon slip further and further away, and I will lose the lens of clarity through which these memories still project. What a dichotomy! Make sure you live in the moment, but also be sure to take time in this moment to document everything so that later on you can (accurately) live in the past.

Side note: the most difficult thing about teaching third graders verb tense is trying to simplify but also maintain accuracy of the explanation of time. Time. It's a loose concept. 

Cultural Fest 2017-2018

A few weeks ago, the school held a two day cultural fest to celebrate and showcase the many cultures of India, and Holy Cross School. On Monday, the events included folk dance, traditional dance, group dance, poem recitation in English and Malayalam, and lots of uncoordinated dance from each class and their teachers (yes unfortunately including myself). I discovered that I really enjoy the Indian pop music they listen to despite the fact that I cannot understand the words being sung, and that both students and teachers have incredible talent for both dancing and singing. On the second day, there were story telling competitions, speeches, songs, and mime skits! All spoken word competitions were in both English and Malayalam. We are slowly learning a few words here and there, mostly phrases and words having to do with food of course, but this language is a hard one to learn. I always tell my older students that they are already smarter than me because they know at the very least two languages (English and Malayalam) and sometimes more. They also learn Hindi in school and I am sure some have mastered it to some degree already.

The students, teachers, and staff are all a part of such rich cultures, and this was an absolutely fabulous and fascinating event to be present for. The dances and costumes alone were my favorite part. The dress we see day to day is simply beautiful. Churidars come in infinite displays of rich colors and elaborate patterns. Shawls are effortlessly draped over women's shoulders, and always match the color and pattern scheme of both pants and top. And this is the everyday dress. One of the competitions at cultural fest was fancy dress, and the intricately ornate costumes were jaw dropping. Gold adornments, lace stitched in the utmost taste, thick black makeup to accentuate shining brown eyes, and the jewelry! The traditional dress that was worn by the folk dance competitors brought the rich history of India to life before my eyes. The dances tell stories more clearly than words could. And oh the way these kids can dance! Some of the most impressive dances came from students in third and sixth grade. The details! I am no student to dance (and this will be very evident when I participate in the Thiruvathira dance with the teachers next week) so I cannot be sure that details such as hand gestures and facial expressions are a part of western dance. But I can be sure that I have never seen dances that are as involved as the traditional folk dances we saw during cultural fest.

It was a beautiful few days to take the time to get to know the culture we are living in a bit more. The students had such fun (of course because we had no class) and it was an opportunity to bond more with them. I certainly did not know how well some of my students could sing, dance, recite poems, and give speeches! Marissa and I showcased our excellent western dance skills by teaching them some classic dance moves including the sprinkler, the lawn mower, and of course the shopping cart at the end. Saved the best for last right?! Next week we will really be putting ourselves to the test by taking part in a traditional Onam dance called Thiruvathira (thee-roo-vah-thee-rah) with some of the teachers. Onam is the harvest festival that falls around the beginning of the Malayalam calendar year. The celebrations in school will include flowerbed competitions, payasam making, and some outdoor games for the younger classes. Payasam is a mysterious soup like sweet treat that I have yet to acquire a taste for, but I hear there are many different types of payasam so perhaps I simply haven't tried the right kind yet. And of course one of the very special events to take place will be the teachers' Thiruvathira dance. They told us it would be simple; we practiced for the first time yesterday and I can assure it is not. Also we will be wearing a traditional Kerala sari which I hear is both beautiful and somewhat hard to move around in, so yes not to worry there will be plenty of videos and pictures to document the occasion.

A note on teaching:

This life we get to live here is wonderful, beautiful, and so educational. Learning how to be a teacher by simply doing it without any training at all is both very, very hard, but also very fun. I constantly feel like I am doing it wrong, and that I will not actually be able to teach any of the students anything. But then sometimes I'll walk into class and say "Ok guys do we remember what we talked about last time?" and they will actually yell out, with much fervor I might add, an accurate summary of what we learned last time. I cannot even describe how proud this makes me. Not only because I did it, I taught them something, but because they cared enough to feign excitement about it! My little loves! I am learning (and finally committing to memory) most of the students' names, and they sometimes like me I think! My current goal is to simply make them think. The way they learn in their normal classes, and prepare for exams, is almost solely memorization based. When they read a chapter in their textbooks, the teacher will give them the questions AND THE ANSWERS on the blackboard and their task for the exam is to memorize the answers. This is just the way they do it, and memorization is certainly a skill that can be useful, but it's clear that when it comes to being inside the classroom, there is little room for any abstract or hypothetical thought. So, this is exactly what I do! Each class I will come in with a few hypothetical scenarios (e.g. If someone gave you 100 million rupees what would you do with the money), make them write a few sentecnces and then I have them each share the answers they wrote in front of the class. The first few times I did this I think everyone single student said "Ma'am I don't know the answer, what do I write?" And when I tell them they can write anything they want (appropriate for class of course) their eyes bulge out of their heads.  This has become a good way to get to know the students in both English ability and personality. It's fun for both of us, and yes sometimes it gets out of hand and I have to yell, but if I can simply get them to think outside of the box in my class, then I will consider myself successful.

Also I taugh the Kindergarteners my name and now every time I see them they yell "Hi Molly Ma'am!" and it's the cutest thing in the entire world and it makes my day every single time. It's a wonderful life:)

Culture Shock

When you travel to a new place, you are most likely aware that the destination will exhibit many differences compared to the place you traveled from. It is my opinion that this awareness can shield you from the shock of being thrust into a starkly different culture. However, I have come to realize that awareness can only go so far as a shield. You need much much more that this.

Some privileges I took for granted in America:

• Not being stared at. Or at least openly stared at. Aren't we taught that staring is rude? And pointing! My goodness it's truly like being a zoo animal. 
• Being able to wear shorts. I could dedicate an entire essay to this concept. Not to worry that is coming. 
• Warm showers. Even though you don't really want one when it's super humid. The cold water is actually nice and I've adjusted to that part just fine, but I miss a nice warm shower in the morning. 
• Windows with screens. Don't get me wrong our verandah is my favorite place in the house. It's  like being outside, but you don't get rained on! Screens would be nice for the mosquitos though. I've itched a few (thousand) bug bites into oblivion and now have lovely new scabs all over my legs. (Now they will think I'm a leper and stare at me more, oh wait I can't show my ankles never mind!)
• A protein or whole grain based breakfast. We have Idli (google it) with curry a lot, and occasionally spicy noodles. They are both really really tasty, it's just still odd to me to eat it for breakfast. 
• WINE!!! In the village it's very taboo for anyone to drink really, but as a woman you are actually not allowed to drink. You can't buy it in a store, and you can't go to a bar. I have many thoughts on this.  But I need to collect and organize them so they do not come out in babbling fits of rage. 

These are just a few things I've realized I completely took for granted while living my comfortable life in America. I'm sure there will be more cultural shocks that we will experience over the coming months, and we will constantly work on how to live with and assimilate to these changes. 

On being stared at:

I don't know what it is like to live in a small village or small city where there is not much tourism, and then all of a sudden see two ladies walking around everywhere who look absolutely nothing like everyone else. It's funny because in the shopping centers the poster ads usually have white people on them. The children's store advertises their clothing on white babies. From what we have seen, and what we have heard from a few locals, light skin is an aspiration. Which is odd for me because I've spent my entire life wanting to be darker, or to have the ability to tan at least a little bit. The grass really is always greener on the other side! I am never sure if the reason for the stares is simply the difference in our skin tone, or the fact that we are also women. I think if the residents of Aymanam or the nearby city of Kottayam were to have ever seen an American, it would have most likely been a man, perhaps traveling for business. I don't know this for sure, but most gender stereotypes are unfortunately accurate here so I would not have much doubt if this were the case. 

Maybe one day they won't see us as zoo animals. We're not the first to be here, so they must have some awareness of the new influx of international teachers at Holy Cross School. The stares and the pointing is harmless. They seem to be teeming with curiosity, and who am I to blame or judge? In this case, we came to India aware that people would stare. The teachers who came before us warned us of this.  But it is one thing to imagine it, and another to actually experience it. When you feel a curious gaze, it's a little uncomfortable. When they point, giggle, and talk to the person next to them in Malayalam, it's even more uncomfortable. I'll never know what they're saying, so we have to learn to just not care. Awareness shielded us from being surprised by the staring and pointing, but an adjustment in attitude will shield from the constant discomfort of being ogled at everywhere we go. 

By the way the power went out three times while I was writing this. ~just India things~ 

Settling In

One week down! Kind of. It has been one week since I left the United States, but because of the spherical world we live on and a very confusing concept called time change, I have only been in India for five days officially. I think....math is hard.

So much has happened already, buckle up! We have been in school since Tuesday, and our program predecessors were right, they really just throw you right in. We were teaching that very first day. We did some fun stuff the first two days, mostly because we had absolutely no idea how to teach a class full of English language learners, but by Thursday I was doing a lesson on verb conjugations with my sixth graders. Oh and by the way it's really hard to teach a language that just comes naturally to you. Do you know what the participle form of a verb is? I bet you do, it's just the "-ing" form. Did you remember that's what it was called? I sure didn't.  So yea I am basically re-learning English and teaching it at the same time. It's actually kind of fun because I am a nerd and have always been a lieutenant in the grammar police force. I think this gig will earn me a promotion. Truthfully this week of teaching was a blur, I created only one full lesson, and executed half of it. The other classes we did a lot of coloring, and a lot of shadow teaching. Stickers are my new best friend. Currently my schedule includes Kindergarten, classes one, three, five, six, and seven on my own. My class is Language Lab and I basically can do whatever I want. The goal is to improve their English (I currently plan to focus on speaking and pronunciation) and there are no required exams. Additionally, I have classes one, three, four, eight, and ten alongside another teacher in their everyday subjects like English, Social Science, General Knowledge, and Morals. In these classes, so far I am either just circulating the classroom making sure the students are listening and doing their work, or I am giving the lesson and the staff teacher is circulating. I initially thought the younger students would be easier to teach (because, you know, cute) but that is not the case. The younger classes, like Kindergarten and class one, do not really speak much English yet I think. They either talk too fast for me to understand, or they are actually speaking Malayalam, I can't tell. My language and pronunciation will certainly improve by being here because I have to talk veeeeerrrryyy very slowly and articulate each letter and syllable so that they understand me. You never realize how fast you speak until you are talking to someone who is a non-native English speaker. 

We are still slowly getting to know the fathers we live with everyday. Father Johny is the superior and the principal of the Holy Cross School. He is very sweet, small, and very engaging. It's not difficult to feel at home in his presence. There is also Father Alex, Father Abraham, Father Biju, and brother Jibin. We eat pretty much every meal with them, and we see them around the house every day. They are curious about America, and so very welcoming. The teachers at school are similar. They are smiley and welcoming, but equally as hard to understand when they speak. They almost all speak English, but it's simply a matter of understanding their words through the thick accent. We will get the hang of it, but right now I do a lot of nodding and agreeing even though I am not always sure what is said.

Yes, the food is spicy. I think they are slowly turning up the heat on us because every meal seems to get more and more hot. Don't get me wrong I like spicy foods, but Indian spicy is the kind of spicy that makes you sweat even though you're sitting still. It is all very very tasty though. The only thing I can already tell I will get tired of is the rice based items that we have for breakfast. The last thing I want in the morning is a rice pancake when we had rice for lunch and dinner the day before. But it truly is pretty good.

A quick note on the power. It goes out randomly and unannounced at least four times per day. Sometimes less,  sometimes more. Sometimes for no more than a minute, sometimes for an hour. It's super fun.

Also we live on a farm. I will try to list the animals that run free around the grounds, but I will more than likely forget a few. For starters there is the rooster. He is hard to miss especially right now because he is RIGHT OUTSIDE THE WINDOW COCKADOODLEDOING HIS DAMN HEAD OFF.  But I'm not annoyed by it at all, really. Then there is the two water buffalo, one baby cow, our dog Moshi, probably like six goats (one of whom had three babies since we have been here), tons of ducks, geese, an odd looking bird called a Guinea fowl, a turkey, and lots of chickens. I'll keep updating this list with the animals I forgot as their noises wake me up in the middle of the night. I love them all. I'm very excited to make the baby goats my friends seeing as the older goats do not have much interest in hanging out. Stay tuned for those adventures. Oh and we also saw a python. It was dead in the river (which flooded most of the seminary grounds and part of the house this week) so it was harmless to us, but the size alone was enough to give me a nightmare about a snake the size of the basilisk from Harry Potter. Think as thick as your thigh and longer than your car. Thank god we didn't see the whole thing.

We actually haven't gotten out to do too much yet, but we did make one trip to the nearby city of Kottayam to go to the mall and get more churidars and kurtas (pants and long shirts). Any time we leave, whether it is to go for a walk or to go to the city, it is like going to the zoo, but we are the animals on display. Never having truly been a minority before is pretty much the ultimate privilege, and the experience of being a true outsider who sticks out like a sore thumb is both uncomfortable and interesting. I hesitate to describe the experience as novel or fun, because I do not want to seem pretentious or ungrateful. This is a perspective we have never really seen the world through, and I value the experience of it. When I tell you Marissa and I are the only white ladies around I absolutely mean it. I mean there could be some but I have not seen any yet, and judging by the stares we get I don't think the residents have seen any yet either. I know the students and parents in the village of Aymanam have seen people who look a little different from them in real life before because they knew Sarah, Nikki, Dan, and O'Shane, the Stonehill grads who came before us. Even still they stare. We went for tea to a teachers house on Tuesday (or Wednesday? Keeping track of the days is hard when your body is still stuck on eastern standard time) and I think at least six neighbors came in to just stare and watch us drink our tea. It's kind of funny for now, they're just so curious and so very friendly! Everyone smiles and waves hello. It's very sweet. But for all I know they're laughing and talking shit about us. Ah the language barrier. Mental note to learn swear words and insults in Malayalam so at the very least I can recognize them. This weekend is a long weekend because Monday is another holiday here, so we will get out some more I hope! And maybe eat something other than rice!

Arrival

Well, here I am! After approximately six months of discernment, a good amount of flip-flopping, several scrapped application essays, hours of research, an acceptance, a few vaccines, and two flights I am finally in Aymanam! I have only been in India for a little over 24 hours, but I have already seen and felt so much.

This upcoming year will be spent serving a community in Kerala, India as a teacher at the Holy Cross School of Aymanam. The students at the school range in age from playschool (pre-K) to class 10 (tenth grade). It's pretty ironic that I have ended up as a teacher, because I began my first semester at Stonehill as an early-childhood education major, but quickly changed this when I realized that having my own classroom was simply not something I wanted to do. Despite this early aversion to classroom teaching, I could not physically be more excited to help the students of Holy Cross School improve their English, and supplement whichever subjects need extra teaching help. I am, of course, incredibly nervous to command the attention of a 30 student classroom without any formal education training other than a few ECE classes I took three years ago, but I am (perhaps naively) up for the challenge! I have decided that this must be my attitude going into the classroom because children, like spiders and other things I am afraid of, can smell fear. 

When I studied abroad in Athens, I remember being overwhelmingly ecstatic to arrive and start having adventures immediately. I did not feel a shred of homesickness. Of course this was a different scenario, I was there purely for fun (yes Ma I went to class sometimes too) and to travel and see the world. This time around it is different. I do intend to explore, travel India, and have much fun, but I am here to serve and teach.  The difference in responsibility, and the starkly different culture are juxtaposed to the fun and frivolous time I had in Athens.  Now, I feel a little homesick, but I'm choosing to blame it on jet lag for the time being. This year will be a challenge and an adventure. I will learn so much from my students, the community, and this culture. I will also hopefully learn how to not throw a hissy fit every time I see a spider. I will learn how to master the bucket shower, eat things I have never tried before, and wear full length pants when it is one million degrees outside. I brought with me a mindset of openness to experience, and I will tackle the challenges this year brings me the best I can. 

Am I avoiding full-time postgraduate employment? Yes and no. Sure, I am not technically employed because I will not be paid for my work, but this was an intentional decision to spend a year giving thanks for my education in a meaningful way. Don't worry Eddie P, I'll get a job when I come back, but I knew this was an opportunity I would be silly to pass up. Don't miss me too much friends!