Achieved by this team from February 8 - February 12
55 Hours of class room instruction in conversational English by 3 volunteers and 55 Hours of preparation time.
10 Hours of child care by 1 Volunteer.
1 school and 2 childrens home and over 120 students impacted.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Quote for the day: “If your plan is for a year, plant rice.
If you plan is for a decade, plant trees.
If your plan is for a lifetime, educate children.”
Namaste. Bonnie and I have come to love our quiet morning of yoga on the roof of our Guest House with our yoga master, Selva. We soon move downstairs and begin our day as usual with a delightful Indian breakfast. Bonnie proceeds to read her journal writings for the weekend. She did a spectacular job of capturing the remarkable and complex history of these breathtaking, monumental rock carvings and I look forward to having her words to accompany my pictures, to be shared with all.
As our beloved driver, Stephen, was at his scheduled doctor’s appointment this morning, we had the excitement of an auto-rickshaw ride to school. Nothing immerses you into the intimacy of the Indian experience as an auto-rickshaw ride. We wildly maneuver shoulder to hubcap with every imaginable form of transportation. I thoroughly enjoyed this alternate ride to Assisi but must admit that I welcome the sanity of the return of Stephen and his van.
Today was my day to work with the smaller children of Assisi. They speak little or no English and have few English grammar skills. However, the joy they express as I share flashcards and books with them is remarkable and once again I am moved by their desire for information and learning. As they move to the blackboard with their colored chalk, each shouts our proudly, “Auntie” as s/he makes his/her own personal impression on the black wall. I spill over with praise and enthusiasm for their achievements. For this, the recognition, praise and expression of love is the true and lasting gift I can give to these precious children.
After lunch, Liz goes into a cleaning frenzy. She has taken upon herself the daunting task of re-arranging all of the supplies in the cabinets and cupboards of our guest house. How generous and valuable for the upcoming volunteers.
Once again, Bonnie and I head out with our cameras to explore our ever fascinating neighborhood. We have become regulars and neighbors shout out their friendly and familiar greetings as we pass by. We stumble upon our traveling seamstress. His bike with portable sewing machine is parked outside a lovely home. They have commissioned a set of pillow covers, which he is skillfully crafting as we move in to view his artistry. Beautiful!
As we continue our stroll, we stop by a home to photograph its exterior when a young woman beckons us from her door. “Come in,” she calls and we do. There we enjoy the company and conversation of a most interesting man and his family…wife, daughter and only grandchild. As they speak impeccable English, we learn that this young mother has a master’s degree in business management and has recently resigned her post at the bank to stay home and care for her two year old son. Her charming father entertains us with family photos and bits and pieces of his remarkable family history. We learn that he is a Brahmin as he wears the tell tale six white strings around his neck. They offer us drinks, which Bonnie and I are reluctant to consume but concerned that we insult their gracious hospitality. One of those “what to do” third world moments.
We soon take our leave from our charming hosts with the promise of a return visit and head back home in anticipation of our afternoon at SEAMS. We are delighted to learn that Stephen is back and that his doctor’s appointment was fruitful. We all pile into the van and head for the school. As always, we are greeted by the ever present smiles and handshakes of these darling children. Bonnie scurries away with her tribe and Liz and I find our spot in the great room as our children gather at our feet. I work with the children on body parts, which they all seem to have mastered quite well. We also work on spelling and they craft each letter with care upon the ever valuable white boards that Bonnie has so graciously given me. Our afternoon lesions end early as we are planning to take in the “local culture” this evening in the form of a movie.
Liz chooses to return home. The balance of our little band of adventurers head for the bright lights of the Chennai movie theater. Stephen weaves his way skillfully along unfamiliar roads full of the familiar and not so familiar sounds and sights of street life in India. At last the theater. Stephen purchases our tickets and we are lead to our seats, fourth row from the back. Apparently, these are the best.
Like all life in India, the movie is rich in color, sights, sound. I can’t begin to follow any plot line but simply enjoy the magic before me. Apparently, audience participation is allowed for many choose to share their own thoughts and impressions with outbursts and arm gestures in support of the action. This two and a half hour saga roles on and on and it’s madness of scene jumping, special effects, exaggerated facial expressions, and remarkable costuming holds Bonnie and me spell bound. Intermission. A ten minute break which allows patrons the opportunity to use the bathrooms and find their way to the concession stands. Most return to their seats eating ice cream cones. The story resumes but moves into a clash between two clans which erupts in massive war and violence. Having had my share, I leave. Regardless of how hard I try or how long I live, I will forever be mystified by man’s desire for killing. How did this ever become entertainment?
Our final ride home finds the streets equally as active and busy as ever. Does this city ever sleep? Remarkable scenes and vinyets drift by as we peer out the van window into the dark, cool night of India.
Another breath-taking, magical day in India. How fortunate we are to share in its richness. Good-night.
– Kathleen
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Quote for the day: “Every time you smile at someone it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.” Mother Theresa
We begin the morning with anticipation following an American breakfast. It is considered such because we have eggs, boiled, scrambled or omelets with other delicious Indian dishes. Pomegranates bought at the fruit market add a delicious variation to our array of fruit.
Bonnie and I head to Grace School for our morning classes. Kathleen has the auto-rickshaw experience through heavy traffic to her little cherub’s school.
We arrive at our gated destination safely and witness a bathing frenzy of men at the neighborhood faucet.
Bonnie is working on sentence structure and penmanship in her writing project with her three groups.
The children are eager to sing our greeting song for me, hand gestures and all. How fun is that. My classes are practicing item identification with flash cards in complete sentences. We move into reading. I do a picture walk through the book first with the students. I can’t begin to thank Mr. Bruce Larken from Willbooks enough for his fantastic donation of 100 leveled reading books.
This week I began lending the students a book each day to take home to read to their family. Before we know it, our wonderful driver Stephen is at the gate to collect us and our supplies to shuttle us home to the guest house.
Destination Chennai shopping mall after preparing for tomorrows lesson. A mall is a mall. Back to guest house to gather our evening teaching materials and we are bound for SEAMS Children’s Home.
Successful happy feelings rushed over me as my first group read aloud their first beginning readers books to me.
The students there are passionate about getting their hands on books. They are now more able to sit and actually look at them peacefully. What a blessing that is to witness.
We were graciously hosted by Stephen’s parents and family to a delicious meal at his and his parent’s home.
What a truly devoted and gracious family. It was a joy to be there guests. Day is done. Blessings from India.
– Liz Clark
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Quote for the day:
“If you want to see the brave, look at those who can forgive.
If you want to see the heroic, look at those who can love in return for hatred.”
On the roof top of our Porur guest house, Bonnie and I greet the morning in the soft breeze and the call of the crows. Our yoga practice has become the delicious routine that begins each day. I contemplate continuing this valuable half hour practice as my mind and thoughts drift home. Will I?
We miss our Stephen this morning for he is off to an eye doctor’s appointment leaving us in the capable hands of his brother. We each head off to our respective school on full stomachs, thanks to the continued good food prepared by our friend, Rani.
Stephen and I weave our familiar route through town on our way to the Assisi School. Upon arrival, we are greeted by the pounding sounds of music coming from 10 foot speakers next door to the school. A wedding celebration is clearly underway. My routine continues as always, with groups of five little ones eagerly ascending the stairs for our half hour of reading, drawing and English. This day soon becomes a proper challenge as the wedding music consumes the air and pushes its way into our lessons. As the hours pass, I feel as though I am leading a classroom in the center of an NY disco on Saturday night. The noise is defining and distracting to both me and the little ones, who want to dance and shake their bodies in time to the driving rhythm of the music. India, on the best of days, can be assaulting with all of its varieties and levels of noise but today has shown me something new.
I am grateful for Steven’s van and his rescue. Our typical ride home seems calm and quiet by comparison. I arrive at the guest house ahead of my team mates and make good use of the time by bathing and beginning a load of laundry.
Soon Bonnie and Liz shuffle tired and hungry through the door. We consume of mid-day meal with limited conversation. I have shared the challenges of my morning with them and Bonnie offers to lead me in a meditative, visualization exercise on the roof of the guest house. I welcome this offer and climb the stairs. The limited shade has us placing our mats side-by-side on the ground and Bonnie’s calm voice and soft suggestions take me to a place of peace. I am grateful. I feel so liberated… yet… is my mind really emptied or is it just a relative thing; a remarkable counter balance from the commotion of this morning.
The gentle breeze on the roof top holds us there for an hour of conversation. This we do well and it is why we enjoy this time of our travels together.
After another enjoyable evening meal, the three of us join Stephen in the van and head off to the local evening market. The trip through town is pressing. Two lanes of traffic become seven and we are strangled in between a sea of cars, trucks, busses, auto-rickshaws, bikes and pedestrians who are brave enough to step foot off of the curve. Once again, India exceeds previous expectations for this traffic has reached a new climax of compression. Somehow, we all managed to move forward as a mass and we eventually reach the market. While Liz goes on her shopping spree, Bonnie and I take to the streets. Teeming with people and their wares, we walk the edges of this madness. Bonnie spots a drum she wants to buy and begins her relentless bargaining with its owner. After the standard pleas and rationale as to why he can’t sell for less and why she can’t buy for more they settle on a price. It’s half of his original asking price but both seem pleased.
Soon Liz ascends the stairs accompanied by her “personal shopper”. All are happy and we meet up with Steven for our ride back home to the guest house. At last. A reprieve from the madness.
As I contemplate taking my leave of this remarkable two week adventure, I’m reminded that there is nothing subtle about India. It does not sneak up on you; rather it attacks you.
But I have achieved my goal in India. I have slipped into its bowels and savored every pour. India is intellectually roiling. My brain is overcharged when attempting to put rhyme or reason to its chaos. It’s all an over-stimulating symphony of sound, colors and smells; layer upon never ending layer of stimulation. I remark at its will and survival. I remark at its proud and colorful people. I remark at its long and complex history full of temples, and sagas and imagination. Surviving India is like being on a buoyant raft atop a roiling and rough sea. I’m aware of its bold complexity yet able to stay afloat on top of it all. What else can I say about this unique and magical place. There is absolutely nothing like India. Namaste, India. I have seen the God in you. I hope you have seen the God in me.
– Kathleen
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Quote for the day: “Breath deeply and appreciate the moment. Living in the moment could be the meaning of life.”
The sky is dark and cloudy when we wake up. I don’t know if Kathleen will join me in our 7:30am yoga class. She has a cold.
I writing this journal entry on the roof of our guest house, sitting on the mat we use for yoga. Up here on the roof all I see are the tops of the coconut palm trees and ski. It’s a peaceful oasis above the chaos of the street.
This morning Selva, our yoga teacher, introduced some different postures, which I struggled with. He told Kathleen that yoga will help her cold.
At Grace School, I use the slates. Each child wrote a story in complete sentences about the postcard I showed them. One card illustrating a boy carrying bananas on his head stimulated the most interest. They could easily erase their mistakes on the slate. We concentrated on writing the alphabet letters correctly as well as the words in proper order.
Between 12 noon and 12:30 the teachers, Liz and I discussed the benefit of coconut oil in the hair, the turning of the head from right to left saying yes and no and the lack of teacher’s benefits in Porur. This continues to be an enriching 30 minutes for all of us. We talk frankly about our cultures, our families and money.
After a delicious lunch Sheba and liz go to a tailor, Kathleen and I walk the main road in search of a bracelet store and a watch store. I came home with three rosewood mixing spoons at 30 rupees each.
The insistent noise from the crows motivates me to leave the roof and go to my air-conditioned room.
At SEAMS we managed to read books and write four sentences based on a post card of an elephant.
Stephen, Sheba, Liz and I go to a restaurant for dinner. We bought soup and rice for Kathleen, who stayed back tonight. Dinner was divine. We discussed previous Global trips and Stephen discussed his future plans.
It’s still early in the evening. I made a phone call at the nearby store 40 feet away, Kathleen is nursing her cold under her net with the book “Holy Cow”, and Liz is typing her journal entry. The cow next door is crying. All is well at this moment. Everyone is where they should be. Namaste
– Bonnie Max
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