Chalo! Chalo! Chalo!

Chalo! This word can pretty much sum up the past five days. I don't think I've ever heard a word more in my entire life. I believe it is a combination of go, faster, move and come on. It was shouted at us constantly from every direction and mouth surrounding us for the past five days.

This past week Ms. Kathryn and I embarked on a journey to Rajasthan with 250 of our students. We were a bit apprehensive after hearing the other fellows filed Trip experiences, but we were excited nonetheless. This trip gave us the opportunity to see an incredible part of India, bond with fellow teachers and students, and even practice some language skills.



Around 8 PM it looked as if all of Kadod and the surrounding villages had come to the school courtyard to wish their farewells. We boarded our buses at 10 PM along with hundreds of worried, anxious parents who refused to leave their children's side until the bus left, be it on, or plastered against the side of the bus. Our bus began its 20hour journey at 12 p.m. We, of course, being teachers, had front-row seats. Also, in hindsight, not the greatest idea when you think about the proximity to the view of the road and speakers. It's not easy to describe just how terrifying Indian bus drivers are. Every single one of them owns the road, drives on any side they please and passes everything. There can be oncoming trucks with their lights flashing angrily at us, and we'll still pull into the lane to pass it. And no matter what time of night, no matter how far away from civilization, there are trucks and motorcycles and bicycles on the roads. Oh, and the roads are super bumpy. I'm pretty sure the one and only driving rule here is: everyone else yields to the biggest vehicle, because if you don't that will be the end of you. Buses basically yield to nothing, cars, trucks, bikes, motorcycles, rickshaws and vans yield to us. The only things that don't yield are cows and donkeys, so avoiding them consists of an immense swerve. One would think that a bus carrying double the maximum capacity of students would exercise a bit more caution. Not so much, the bus ride was 90 students hopped up on soda and candy taking part in a giant dance party accompanied by blasting Hindi tunes.

We weren't sure where our role as chaperons would lie, but we quickly discovered that we were also being chaperoned. The teachers were extremely worried for our safety, and thought that due to Rajasthan's location if we strayed from eyesight we would immediately be abducted. This slightly irrational, but sweet paranoia warranted constant supervision and personal body guards ranging from 10-14 years old. Our role in the group seemed to be more entertainment and fun for the students, rather than authority figures. We got to talk and hang out with our students outside of the classroom, which lead to a lot of joking and games. We attempted to make relationships with some of our naughtier students to hopefully alleviate some classroom management difficulties. They really made an effort to speak to us in English and help us in any way they could. They were not only body guards, but translators and guides. We saw incredible temples, museums, palaces, forts and awesome views.

After the exhausting trip we were ready to sleep in our own beds. Sleep deprived with runny noses, but satisfied with our journey. The trip was an amazing experience and left us with some great memories, loss of hearning, and some new friends.