Of Mangoes and Monsoons

In honor of Blog Action Day, this is a post by former Kadod Teaching Fellow Melissa Ivins, currently pursuing her Masters in Environmental Management at Yale University. Below are her reflections on climate change and her experience working in rural India!

Two of the staples of India, mangoes and monsoons, have been on the fritz lately. The past year unseasonable winter weather stunted the mango harvest, meaning great loses for farmers who depend on domestic and foreign sales of the King of Fruit for part of their income. Since then even more farmers’ livelihoods have been compromised by irregularities in the monsoon, which came a month later than usual in Gujarat this year.


All over India people have found themselves working to adapt to more frequent droughts or floods, (no small feat when you are already catering to a weather pattern as extreme as the monsoon). Granted, one flood here, and a small drought there is not so unusual for India. After all, in a country of its size, you are almost guaranteed that someone somewhere is experiencing problematic weather at any given time. However, the frequency of these events is increasing, and that is what really has people worried. It’s not just happening in India, either. Around the globe, what people once referred to as “100 year floods” (so called because they occurred about once every 100 years) are becoming known as “15 year floods” and traditionally “20 year floods” are looking more like “2-5 year floods”. The results are ruined crops, damaged personal property, and sometimes even loss of life.


More and more people are talking about climate change and the rising levels of greenhouse gases as the driving force behind the unusual weather, from farmers and teachers at the Kadod bazaar to researchers and policy makers at the World Bank. (Click here to read the World Bank's report on climate change impacts on drought- and flood- affected areas in India.) When it comes to something as complex as weather patterns, it is difficult to draw direct links of cause and effect to explain the changes we are seeing. While it is impossible to say with 100% certainty that, “Yes, climate change diminished the mango crops and delayed the monsoon,” we do know that our environment is changing more rapidly now and in the last few decades than it has previously changed in centuries. This can be measured by the rapid increases in global temperature, greenhouse gas levels, and species extinction rates. More and more evidence suggests that all of these attributes are linked, and rather than wait until we are absolutely certain that climate change is affecting our weather patterns, ways of life, and fellow species, we need to act now to reduce greenhouse gas levels and preserve natural ecosystems. Whether or not you believe climate change delayed the monsoon, there are many small things you can do that not only reduce greenhouse gas emissions, but also simply keep the planet a little cleaner and help save resources for future generations. Humans have more power than any other species to change their environment, and when you think of this power in terms of climate change it may seem disturbing and frightening, but the good news is that this means we really can change our environment for the better.


So what can we do for our environment?


Some of the best recommendations I can take straight from Kadod and they all boil down to the simple phrase, “Reduce and reuse.”


-Use durable, reusable bottles and Tupperware instead of one-time use items. This not only saves trash from going into landfill and prevents littering, it also saves energy. The energy that isn't being used to make a new disposable item, the energy that isn't be used to transport the "used" item to the landfill or recycling center, and the energy that isn't be used to recycle it into a new disposable item.


-Turn off lights and water when you’re not using them. In Kadod, people are especially aware of these resources because their limitations are felt. If you let water run when you are not using it in Kadod, it means there won’t be any water running later in the day when you really do need it. Not everyone has such strong reminders to conserve their resources, but this is not an excuse to waste them.


-Carpool. Have you seen how many people can “carpool” in a single vehicle in Kadod? I rarely saw anyone traveling in a car or rickshaw by themselves. (Disclaimer: While I admire the zeal of Kadod residents for sharing rides, I strongly recommend limiting the number of passengers to the number of seat belts in the vehicle when carpooling!)


-Ride your bike. Many people bypassed cars and rickshaws completely, transporting themselves via “cycle” only. (Extra bonus: You get to ring a bell and shout at people to get out of your way, “Side!”)


-Eat more vegan and vegetarian foods. A more plant-based diet is healthier for your body and for the planet. Be creative about how to incorporate these foods into your lifestyle without feeling like you are depriving yourself. Every little change you make helps, so try eating vegetarian for “Meatless Mondays” or going "vegan before dinnertime". You can help the planet and your heart while still satisfying your carnivorous cravings.


These are just a few small, simple things anyone can do to help our environment. What are some other things we can do to help? What is your favorite way of helping the environment?

A Picture Says... at Least One Word

Happy Diwali and happy vacation to all!

Yesterday was our last day of school at P.R. Khatiwala before Diwali vacation, which our school has off from October 15-November 4. In order to conclude the last few days, then, I’ve been trying to wrap up current lessons and abstain from starting any new chapters, since I didn’t want to break off partway through a story and have them forget it over vacation.

Before vacation, though, I had two periods left to fill with my 7-A class in the English medium, my difficult class of the moment. Things have been going very well this term with my 6th standard and 8th standard classes, and they seem to have no problem understanding my pronunciation or explanations for the lessons, but 7-A has the worst time keeping quiet as well as the hardest time understanding. When I tried to move slowly through the lessons to make sure they all understood, they’d stare at their hands or out the windows or fall asleep on their desks… when I tried to move a little more energetically, I’d achieve the same result. Thus it came as little surprise that they didn’t understand the lesson once we’d completed it, but I’ve been trying to figure out what I can do to get them more engaged.

Since I didn’t want to begin reading the new story (a rather strange take on “The Ant and the Grasshopper” which describes an elderly man and his ‘uncouth’ younger brother, the black sheep of the family, who swindles money from everyone and never works) I was left with a rather dry and lengthy list of vocabulary words that it would be necessary to cover before reading the story.

Generally, the students are given the task of writing down these “words to know” at the beginning of the lesson. This, predictably, does not assure that they actually learn the words, but does assure that their notebooks look fuller. The list also is never sufficient to cover all the difficult words in the text. In addition to the 25 vocab words given in the chapter, I found an additional 15 as I read the story.

This gave me 40 words to teach to 40 kids in two periods. And this in the face of it being their final two English periods before break, so they were all geared up to argue vehemently for their right to slack off and play games.

Fun?

So I got myself psyched up about it. I planned to use funny examples that relate to their life (which is getting increasingly easy as I start to know them a bit better and remember what it is that 7th graders find funny) in order to bring home the definitions.

Speaking of which, ‘bring home’ was one of the phrases I had to teach them.

“To ‘bring home to’ means to make sure someone understands something. As your teacher, it’s my job to ‘bring home’ this lesson to you… and if I’m not doing my job, you need to tell me!” I told them.

As I was about to move on to the next word in the list, Jayushi, my star pupil of 7-A, was waving energetically at me from a front row.

“Yes?”

“So ma’am, if we don’t understand the lesson, you will come to our home!” she beamed at me. Haha.

“Yes, exactly.” The rest of the class was chatting, so I called their attention back to me. “Did you hear that? If you don’t understand the lesson, then I will come to your home, and we will do the lesson all day!” This got a laugh, and I thanked Jayushi for her perfect, punny explanation.

Using examples of mischievous little brothers to explain ‘uncouth’ and stealing chocolate to explain ‘vindictive’ we got through the forty words in just over a period.

“Done! Game!” came a few cries, and they all started preparing their retreat from English… but little did they know, I wasn’t done yet.

“No, wait—now we have another activity. We’re going to illustrate these words. We’re going to draw pictures.”

“????”

“Each one of you is going to get a piece of paper with one of the words on it, and you need to draw the meaning of that word. I know some of you will be confused on what to draw, so I’ve written some ideas for you at the top of the page. I don’t want to hear that anyone can’t draw, because I think everyone can draw stick figures, right?” I drew a rough, awkward stick person on the board. The class laughed. “See, everyone can draw this, no? I’ll do the first word for you as an example.”

I glanced at my stack. The word was ‘discreditable’. I had written, by way of suggestion, ‘someone who has fallen in the mud.’ In order to explain the word, I had told them that they were all expected to be very good students since they go to P.R. Khatiwala, so we have a good opinion of them. We think that they dress very well and behave very well… so if, on Sunday, they are playing in the mud and one of the teachers sees them, it would be very discreditable to them!

So I drew a little stick student sitting in a puddle of mud, with a look of horror on his face, and a stick teacher with her hands on her hips, scowling at him.

The class laughed, both at the silly state of the characters on the board, and the expressions on their faces.

“OK, so it’s not very good, but it’s easy to understand, right? I want you all to draw something like this!”

As I passed the papers around the room, I half expected the class to try to thrust them back at me, as they sometimes do when I try to bring in outside assignments that aren’t part of the regular curriculum, but to my pleasure and astonishment they all took them up, some with exclamations of excitement of “Oh! I have ‘investments’! Hmm…”

One girl did look at the sheet doubtfully and told me earnestly, “But ma’am, this is not done!”

“Well, it’s done now.”

They were perhaps the quietest they’ve ever been in my class. Every student completed some manner of drawing for me, and we’re going to hang them at the front of the room when we DO finally read the story, after break. (Then, when they ask me, "Ma'am, what does this word mean??" I can point at the picture and say, "It's right there. Whoever drew this picture can explain it.")

So their day of partying yesterday, which included their singing an organized and unrelenting chorus of Hindi songs, complete with the boys doing imitations of obscene Western dances, was well-deserved.

I really WILL miss them over break.

And hopefully they’ll remember the definitions, for once.

Namaste,
Dalena

Lighting a path...

When I entered one of my 8th standard classes this week the students were poring over yellow cards that the teachers had handed out. I asked my co-teacher what they were and she told me that the students had received their result cards from September exams. “Are they happy?” I asked her. She gave me a smile that said neither yes nor no. “In this class 10 students have passed.” This is a class of 64 students. Confused, I asked “You mean passed their English exams?” This would make sense to me because this is one of the lowest classes; most of the students come from very rural areas and have received poor English training prior to entering Madhi High School. “No,” she replied “ten is the number of students who have passed all subjects.” I was floored. Here I am trying to teach English, and they aren’t even able to pass exams in Gujarati or Hindi, their native language. “These students have a difficult time learning” she added. I had suspected just that and now it was made evident.

I went on with class as usual but I couldn’t stop thinking about it; 10 out of 64! The common belief of the Indian teachers is that the students in C, D, and E classes are backwards and dull. To me that is unacceptable. These students are not dull, even though their test scores may tell a different story. If anything, these students are the victims of an education system gone bad; the cracks in the system have widened and more and more students are falling through them. I know my students are smart and capable; they just haven’t been given a chance.

The students must take the result cards home to show their parents, who must then sign the card in multiple areas so the school knows they are informed of their child’s progress. As the students handed them back to the co-teacher she scanned the cards to make sure all the signatures were there. On some of the cards there was no signature. Instead, there was a thumbprint; a sign of an illiterate parent. I was surprised at the number of thumbprints on the cards and I mentioned this to my co-teacher. “Many parents are farmers, they have no need to read, and therefore they cannot help with homework.” Again, I felt another blow.

This cycle of illiteracy has been spinning in some families for generations and it may continue to spin unless something is done to stop it. I have no illusions that in ten months I can overhaul the system, but I do know that I can make a difference, even if it is only one student at a time. What I hope is that I can slow the spinning down enough to give these students a chance to grasp something, to learn something that can pull them out of cycle and hopefully not only change their lives, but also the lives of their children.

On the wall of my room I have a small card with a quote by Buddha: “Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.” It reminds me of something my students in China told me; A teacher is like a candle; they burn themselves to give light to others.

I want to be their candle.

The Bus Trip to the End of the World

I can remember field trips from when I was a kid; lots of kids on a bus with lunch boxes full of goodies, our initials written in permanent marker onto our clothes, all of us probably annoying the crap out of our chaperons. Well, Lyndi and I were asked this last week if we wanted to go on a school field trip with 50+ kids to which we replied, "What the heck, Mount Abu sounds nice. Let's go." Maybe we should have asked the details of this excursion before we agreed but then, we probably wouldn't have gone if we had known. And talking about it now, Lyndi and I can't stop ourselves from laughing at the things we saw and heard.

Imagine, 54 excited kids ranging from grades 8 - 12 stacked into a "luxury bus" that doesn't have AC or reclining seats, all eating enough sugar to keep dentists in business for years, chugging the trendy Mountain Dew everyone is so obsessed with here, and then picture these kids saying the following quotes that are still making Lyndi and I laugh a week later....

To Lyndi: "Teacher, black man, White House, Obama". And then he walked away.

"Kitty-ben, you are tired but your face doesn't look tired."

On Mount Abu you had the option to pay to ride a few horses that looked pretty beaten down and tired out. My student, Shrey was talking about going all day and was really excited that I might want to do it too when I said that I had ridden as a kid. We see the horses and he asks me if I want to go. "No, that horse looks really hungry Shrey." He talks to the horses owner for a minute in Hindi and then says, "Don't worry, he will eat at 9 o'clock." Oh, great. That makes me feel better.

Lyndi to Raxa, our Gujarati co-teacher after seeing the little room where we will all sleep curled onto the floor, actually spooning our 11th standard girls (awkward) because of the close quarters: "So, is there another bathroom somewhere besides the one in here for the 15 of us? (she is still hopeful at this point)" Raxa: "What's your problem?"....None, no problem!

Shrey was super excited to find a whistle so he could be cool like the 12th standard boys who were blowing theirs excitedly at any time of day or night. I told him that if he bought one we probably couldn't stay friends because he was sitting next to me. He didn't seem that scared by my threat. Dhaval, his classmate, said, "Teacher, if he buys a whistle, you buy a gun and you shoot him."

Lyndi and I get talked to by random men just about everywhere we go so, it wasn't a huge shock when these random men started to appear and try to talk to us. The difference this time was that the kids could understand what they men were saying to each other before they came up to talk with us and knew they weren't exactly coming with the best intentions. Shrey made me pinky swear I wouldn't talk to strange men and Ashay would mutter under his breath when we walked by interested me, "Don't talk to him. Don't talk to strange men." We had 9th standard protectors :)

Maybe we won't be so quick to jump on the opportunity to take an Indian field trip the next time but I wouldn't trade the laughs on this one for anything. A weekend took me from being just Teacher to Sister (Ben). Three days gained us protectors. And my favorite quote of all is from Riddhi and is why I really can laugh at this hectic, draining weekend now.

"When you first came here, you were our new foreign teacher. We didn't know you. Now you are our friend."

A Lesson with STD 1

During the first two weeks of the new term, I was made to teach the first lesson to STD 1 Divisions- A, B, and C. I must admit, I was nervous and extremely uneasy with the thought of having to teach STD 1 again in the English medium, as my first round with them in 1D was not all daffodils and butterflies, but nonetheless, I was up for the challenge. Since I have been getting to know the co-teachers very well in the first standard because I am with them once a week for library period (more description of that to come in the next blog!), I felt I was already in a better place to start my teaching.

My lesson, Saroja, was about an old woman who wanted to help build a temple, but she couldn’t because she was too old to lift the heavy stones. Instead, she decided to help the workers by making them buttermilk, so they could feel refreshed and continue working. The reading passage was not so long, but there were so many exercises to go along with this lesson, which made it very difficult to get through. It’s easy to forget how slowly these 1st graders write, and how much time they need to comprehend the questions I am asking them. I must admit, it is frustrating at times because I would really like to spend more time on reading each lesson, but I am plagued by time constraints--the necessity to finish within about a week’s time or else there is no possible way they can finish all the lessons they need to for the exams. So, I trudge through the lesson, and I hope that I am picking out important parts of the story to have them remember. By the end, I am able to dictate the basic sequence of the story, and they can fill in the blanks, or finish the sentences, although they sometimes give mindless answers because they know a certain word must be coming up soon in the sequence. (For example, they would answer “temple” or “buttermilk” for almost every question, until I reminded them to listen to what I was asking, and then a proper answer would appear.) After many days of pressing them to write faster, as I was taught to do quickly in these younger standards, a lot of reminders that we always leave one line between answers, and pleading for my students to listen to my instructions, I finally got through the lesson.

Now, the challenge with first standard isn’t that I can’t get through the lesson, even though it is really difficult to manage keeping on task with 30-40 youngsters all asking questions in Hindi or Gujarati about something I’ve just explained literally 10 times when I thought I had their attention. The challenge is the daunting combination of not just classroom management, but teaching these students the schemas of how to behave in school in general, and the expectations for them as students in this new environment, along with getting through very sophisticated lessons in solely English that made STD 1 a very… difficult place to be. I was overwhelmed easily, and I felt purely helpless at times because I wanted to be a good teacher to these students, but there seemed to be a level of communication and understanding that was, and still is, very challenging to get to with these students, as their English is minimal and my Hindi/Gujarati is nil. Reflecting back on these past two weeks, I think that was my biggest disappointment—I couldn’t get to a level of mutual understanding with most of my students. Two weeks is a very short time to be with a group of students, but my hopes were still high and of course I was slightly crushed when my students were still wild, and I couldn’t answer their basic questions to their satisfaction because of the language barrier.

However, no need to fear because all my hopes have not been lost. Fortunately, since last term, I have also had all of the STD 1 classes in the English medium for library period. Since we have had a regular routine set up of this weekly library period for 3 months now, they are beginning to get a grasp on the behavior expectations during this period, and even when I walk into the room, they know story time is coming and they must clear their desks and fold their hands before I will begin. How proud I am of my students that they have learned this!!!! Their sweet faces are so innocent, and their gleaming eyes are always so ready to jump into a learning adventure… it truly melts my heart. At the end of the day, I know that there is still some hope to be had with these small students and it just takes more time than I can be with them, based on the way my schedule is at the moment. As for now, I am moving on to teaching the 4th and 5th STD, and I am very excited to go on to the older students, but I am still happy I will get my weekly visit with my sweet 1st STD.

Until next time..

New bonds and proud moments

With the Navratri festival officially over, I wanted to take a moment to tell everyone how proud I was to go watch my wonderful roommate, Dalena, perform every night at the indoor stadium for 10 nights. I must admit, I didn’t make it 2 of those nights because even I was too tired (and I was just a mere spectator!), but I tried to go as much as I could so I can show my support and enjoy all of the wonderful garba dances. There were thousands of people that attended the festivals at indoor stadium, and one night it was even broadcast live to 56 countries around the world! The cameras loved Dalena, and she showed up frequently on the large projection screen (jumbotron type thing), everyone praised her efforts at the end of each night, and she thanked them graciously as always. How she kept the energy to keep dancing all those nights, I really don’t know, but it was purely wonderful. I wish all the other teachers were there to watch as she floated merrily around with her class, as if she has been dancing garba all her life. I hope everyone can really take a chance to watch the video (posted by Dalena), and see if you can see her. Searching for her in those crowds of people was kind of like playing a live game of Where’s Waldo? but with more commotion, and very dizzying, but well worth it.

During this time, we were also able to make friends with one of our co-teacher’s brothers and his wife. He was one of the singers at indoor stadium, so we were able to reintroduce ourselves, and at the end of the end of the ten nights, I am hopeful that we have made another connection in this sometimes lonely city. He and his wife are so funny, and have made a promise to take us to a superb pasta restaurant here in Surat. Oh boy, new friends and delicious pasta here in Surat? Really, what more can a girl ask for?

In the end, I was a little sad I was too shy to learn some garba dances, as it seemed like so much fun to participate, but I had such a good time just enjoying everyone else dancing. It also allowed me to watch the different types of garba dances, the vast number of steps and movements involved, and how much the music influences the pace of the same steps. It was really fascinating to watch it all, and fto see the entire city to come together for these 10 days.

Navratri Celebrations: Surat Style

Without a doubt, I’ve found my favorite festival. I’m not sure how any other party could surpass nine (or ten, depending on where and how you celebrate) evenings of solid dancing while wearing your absolute finest.


(Picture: Teachers dancing during celebrations at our school, P.R. Khatiwala.)

I threw myself into the Navratri celebration here with real passion, beginning with my desire to take dance classes somewhere in Surat. While wandering down one of the main roads after school, in pursuit of a class, I was lured to an open downstairs dance floor by some enticing dance music. There, I caught sight of a whirling group of mixed adults and youngsters, doing some pretty cool twirling moves in a circle in perfect unison. Before I even realized that this class was being held solely in preparation for participation in Navratri, I had enrolled, paid my dues, and started going daily.

I learned a decent repertoire of dances (four or five) over a month and a half of attendance, but the partial dances or those which I had learned imperfectly were quickly forgotten when my class abruptly started doing one dance only. Every night. Repeatedly. The dance, mind you, is under a minute long, because it is a folk dance meant to be danced continuously during a celebration. So that one partial minute was put on repeat for a significant chunk of my life… but dance lover that I am, I relished the workout, and the whirling, and left beaming every day.

Up until I arrived at the Indoor Stadium in Surat on the first day of Navratri, I hadn’t realized exactly how much of a BIG DEAL this celebration really is. From what I’ve gathered, Navratri, Surat style, is significantly different from Navratri in the smaller villages (as are most festivals). Not only did I have to pay a pretty penny for the entrance fee, but once inside I realized that hundreds of people had crowded inside the stadium stands and onto the ground floor in order to both participate in and watch the festivities. I hadn’t realized it was part spectator sport… but that made it all the more exciting!


(Picture: The indoor stadium, on a less-crowded night.)

My dance group, I quickly realized, was the biggest in the stadium. We had a dress-code every night so that we could coordinate matching colors. At first I thought this was for aesthetic reasons, but I quickly realized the true need for it—once the whirling in circles starts, everything becomes incredibly hectic, especially on the busier nights. Multiple groups are attempting to make circles in dangerously close proximity to each other, and elongated ovals crash into circles which crash into some less skilled misshapen lumps and suddenly you can’t tell who’s in your group and who isn’t except by the colors they’re wearing. During this whole time judges with clip-boards weave in and out, taking note of the good dancers and groups in order to award prizes (small prizes nightly and absolute winners after the tenth evening).

In order to acquire all the necessary colors and the traditional chaniya choli dress (required to dance in the “traditional” section of the stadium, roped off from the “Western” section), I borrowed heavily from friends and neighbors. Though I wore the same basic chaniya choli each night, I coordinated scarf, or dupata, and bangle and accessory colors in order to make myself recognizably part of the group. (On only one night was I unsuccessful: the seventh night of dancing had me exhausted and I grabbed the wrong dupata as I was getting ready. I wound up a nice blue flower in a sea of red dancers. Embarrassed, I asked my fellow dancers if I should go home, by they assured me, “No, for YOU it’s alright.”)

Despite my love of dancing, though, at times it was tough to keep a beaming smile on my face. Times such as when I would step on the pins, shells, mirrors and baubles that were constantly falling off of everyone’s elaborate costumes. Times such as when the participants in the group would grow too many and my moves would be hindered by the flailing arms on each side. Times such as when the neighboring groups would nail me in the head or shoulder or foot with variously flung limbs. I realized the threat of dancer injuries, especially in bare feet. My arms grew exhausted, held as they were over my head for a nearly continuous two or three hours.

But then, as the music tempo increased, the numbers would dwindle, a little pocket of freedom to move would open up, and I’d rediscover the intoxication of the beat, feeling especially motivated when one of mine and Pamela’s new friends would start singing (he’s a successful singer here in Surat). I learned to better time my spins to avoid more collisions and to hop into the inner circle when the outer one grew too dense.

On the third night I was even awarded a prize during the nightly prize distribution ceremony: “Special Lady.” I think this means something along the lines of, “You don’t quite seem like everybody else! Because we’re happy you’re here, you get a prize.” Guess I seemed an appropriate choice. I can now get a facial, haircut, some temporary tattoos, and even a free 1-square-inch multi-color permanent tattoo. (This is a growing trend in trendy Surat.) A pic of my group dancing (me included) also made in into the Times of India, but while I was going to include the scanned image here, it unfortunately seems to have disappeared in the aftermath.


(Video: My garba group dancing in green. If you have good eyes, you might spot me... though probably not, considering the size of the screen. I start off basically center screen, and I'm the only woman in green with short hair...)

Each evening the traditional dance was broken up by an intermission of current hit bollywood numbers, during which time people would stream from the bleachers down to the ground floor to do their “Western” moves in large groups. Some nights I participated, but others I crashed exhaustedly on the sidelines. My favorite night, though, was when our friend Yatin invited Pamela and me onstage to dance during the intermission and we got to rock the stadium for a bit and bask in the glow of video cameras that were reportedly broadcasting live to 56 different countries. (Unfortunately, I didn’t know which channel, so I couldn’t tell any folks back home to look for me…)

While ten consecutive days of this celebratory nonsense had me a bit exhausted and often snoozing in the staff room between classes, I somehow gained my second-wind by the last couple of days, the soreness abated, and I was sad to see it end. Many of my students also attended the events at the indoor stadium, either as spectators or participants, and throughout the week I had a number (perhaps teasingly; calling me out) tell me, "Ma'am! I saw you last night!"

One of the coolest culminations of the festival was the Saturday that we had a dance party at school for part of the day. Though I was particularly beat that day (it was after my exhausted seventh night) I mustered up the energy to dance with my students for a bit since they were calling me from all across the grounds to come and join their dance circles. Doing the traditional garba was fun, but a bit unpleasant in bare feet on the rocky dirt, but things really livened up when the Western dancing began and I got to lead my students in some silly dance moves that they seemed to love. I wished I had the energy to stick around and party with my pupils in the Gujarati medium as well, but I went home and fell unconscious for a few hours instead.


(Video: Students and teachers dancing at P.R. Khatiwala)


Now that Navratri is officially over, it will be nice to have some free time and evenings back, but I’m sad that my dance classes have ended. I’d have been happy to go all year. Guess I’ll be searching for another dance class or some yoga from here…

Namaste,
Dalena