The Fishbowl

Of course we live in a fishbowl. We are always on display. Three foreign girls parading around in saris on our way to school are always a sight but, never more so it seems, than during this last festival; Navatry. Meg, Lyndi and I had so much fun dancing the night away with the garba circle in town. Each night we donned a different outfit; saris one night from our own collection, a borrowed one the next, traditional chanya chowdri after that - always decked out in our finest as the festival required. We always elicit looks, I mean, we do stand out but the looks turned into odd comments this week. "Why don't you have more ornaments on?" "Why doesn't your blouse match perfectly to your sari?" "Why are you garba steps so wide?" Most of the questions we have taken in stride. Gujarati's tend to be very forthcoming in their comments; to say the least. Honesty becomes brutal at times and they think nothing of it. But, this was a fun festival that everyone had been working up so much to us and we had really looked forward to participating in it. It's never easy to be the different one is a society of people that all dress identically aside from the difference in colors. It's not like a teacher will come in to school wearing the mandated sari and have it folded toga style. So, for us to throw our own spin on clothes, or to not have our hair done properly, or to simply opt for western dress to avoid comment - illicited many comments. By the end of the festival, we were all feeling our differences and really having a hard time handling the comments. It's hard to continue to embrace the culture when the culture is making it hard to do so by being critical of the steps you are taking.

While this was a frustrating aspect of the festival, there were more to make it extremely memorable. I loved the nights when Lyndi and I were able to go to Madhi and play garba with our students. Since we don't live in the village that we work, these times are really special to me, and to the kids as well. That first night especially, I can't remember how many houses we were invited into of students who's families I had yet to meet who put more food into our hands that I could handle to eat in one night's time. It was overwhelming to me at times, how happy and welcoming the parents were when we came into their homes and their children introduced us as their teacher; whom I'm sure they have heard plenty about over the last few months. In one home, Shrey's mother was sewing his outfit for the next night when he would be competing in a garba competition. She was hard at work gluing on more sequins than I would think possible, making the outfit colorful and shiny. I got to see him wearing this outfit the next night (and you can too - here is Shrey and I) along with his friends Dhuval and Ashok, who are all in my Spoken English class.

Navatry quickly has become my favorite festival we've been here to participate in and it shows in how exhausted I am from it! Nine nights of dancing till 1am, while still teaching, can really tire a girl out. So, I'm off to catch up on sleep. Hope you enjoy the pictures!

No English, No Progress

Apparently one key to my success in the world is having learned English. It has little to do with my prowess and skill, it is simply because of the place I was born. I was able to be fluent in the language of power, influence, and success.

I find it a privilege to come here to India with an invitation. Someone finds my skills so useful to fly me around the world and provide me with food and shelter for my services. This is a honor for me to share my skills with fabulous, hard-working students. This opportunity was given to me mostly because of my ability to speak my first language.

It was stated at the English Language Teacher’s Association Conference, “No English, No Progress.” This statement hit me and the intern Milli right in the face. There was something shocking about all these presenters from all over the world using my mother tongue with such ease and skill. There were representatives from Sri Lanka, Lybia, Syria and all were in agreement that the importance of teaching English was so important, it should not be taught as a foreign language, but as a second language.

The disconcerting part of this is that people in the United States hardly know about these countries, but yet so many are striving to speak their mother tongue. Language teaching is not of great importance in the United States because it is felt that we can get far enough using our own language. We can get very far using English, but at the same time being multilingual certainly has its advantages. It also helps people to see the importance of building relationships with people all over the world, which is of great importance in our global economy.

It is certainly convenient to speak the leading international language, yet I don’t feel like I should necessarily be entitled to this without any additional work. Throughout the conference my “white guilt” was being felt strongly. Here I am in another country with miniscule knowledge of their language and I am blessed to be able to have the expectation, or hope that others will understand me despite the fact that I am speaking a foreign language.

I guess all that I can say is I have the utmost respect for my students. They are asked to be comfortable and fluent in three languages. Some students have a knowledge of five languages: Hindi, Gujarati, English, Sanskrit, and the Muslim students also know Urdu. I understand the obstacles of mastering so many languages from my failed attempts to become fluent in another language.

I want to teach my students the important place English has in this world and show them the necessity of learning it, but also understand the struggles they are having as a result of being asked to learn so many language. I want them to know that they are fortunate to be able to know more languages than most educated people in the United States.

Simple pleasures...

This week in my 6th standard class I decided to try something different and I was so happy and surprised with the results. My 6th standard class doesn’t follow the same format as the other classes I teach. The principal told me not to follow the curriculum or book, but to “speak with them generally” because this is their first year of English classes. I meet with these students once a week and my co-teacher always tells me that “they have been eagerly awaiting my class.” This becomes apparent when I hear them cheering wildly as I walk down the hall towards their room. I like having the freedom to come into their class and teach them things that they won’t find in their books. I recently taught them the English names of different insects and ended class by teaching them The Itsy Bitsy Spider, which they loved! I think we sang it no less than 10 times and my co-teacher recorded me singing it on her cell phone.

This week I wanted to give them an opportunity to see something they haven’t seen before so I looked through our small collection of children’s story books and picked out some I thought they would enjoy. The English was simple enough for them to follow, but what really impressed them were the illustrations. At every turn of the page there was an audible gasp from every student. Their eyes opened wide to take in the vividly colored pictures and they stretched out their arms to touch the pages. After reading each page I would walk through the room to give each student a chance to see the pictures close up. At some points their enthusiasm for the books was too great and my co-teacher had to reprimand them in Gujarati to get them to sit patiently for their turn to look at the book. When the class bell rang the students sighed in disappointment because we had not finished the story.

It was so refreshing to see their enthusiasm and interest in the books. As I write this blog there are 350 books on their way to our school from the US and I can’t wait to get these books into the library so they can circulate through the students’ hands and minds. The simple joy of reading them a book made my day and I can’t wait to see what books I can share with them in the future.

life in the public eye

Beside me as I write this, a local Gujarat newspaper sits on my desk, bearing a picture of Kathryn and I on the front page, dancing Garba, in mid clap and turn, our faces contorting unattractively. The memory of the persistent photographer, insistent on snapping us dancing haunts my memory...

Is this what television stars feel like, the day after a picture of them, drunk or fighting with a partner, appears on Page Six or OK Weekly? I'm starting to sympathize.

Today as Kathryn and I sat outside the auditorium, the middle school principal drove by on his motorcycle. "Today is a special program," he said. "You should come and be the judge."

Unfortunately- or fortunately- we both had class, so we could not be the judges of the competition. However, we promised to come at some point and watch.

I arrived late, two hours into the program. Entering the auditorium I saw a mass of students, separated by gender, sitting on the floor. I looked around for a chair in the back, noticing the teachers and parents sitting there. Then I raised my eyes. Sitting on stage, next to the principal, past the mass of students, past the parents in chairs, standing out like a soar thumb, was Kathryn.

She looked amused. We made eye contact and she grinned. I tried to sneak into the corner and sit but the principal saw me and beckoned me to the stage. I waded through the sea of students and climbed the stairs to the stage, taking a seat besides Kathryn.

"Welcome," she said dryly. This was my view from the stage:




What commenced, or continued, can only be called a Program of Cuteness. The program was a costume and singing competition. Each kid was dressed in some beautiful or silly or cute outfit, and came up on stage to sing a very short song. One kid was a strawberry, one a cow, and one was dressed like Gandhi, with a shaved head, glasses, and dhoti!



Here is an excerpt from the program. Many students forgot their lines, and had to look to teachers for encouragement!






The program ended and I sighed. My duty of sitting on a stage being watched by 500 people was over! People began talking excitedly and all the kids got on stage. Next to me, someone unwrapped a packet of pencils and put it on a chair. I stared at the pencils, thinking, "I'm going to have to hand out these pencils to the winner, aren't I."

Sure enough, the principal turned to me. "Now hand out a pencil to each child."

One by one, the students approached me, and touched my feet (!). I handed them a pencil and smiled. If they didn't touch my feet, a nearby menacing teacher would yell at them them in Gujarati.

When the program let out, I went back to my house, relishing being alone. I grabbed my purse and went into town to buy some chocolate. Ten minutes later, standing in front of a drug store counter, the friendly clerk eyed me and said, in Hindi, "I hear you were at the program!"

So much for anonymity.

"Teacher, teacher!!"

After three full months of teaching, I have realized several things about teaching ESL in India. Unfortunately, my grand plans of completely immersing my students with conversational English and playing engaging games all the time have fallen by the wayside as I adjust to the expectations of Indian classrooms. Though I try my best to communicate with the students in English, it has become very apparent that this is not always possible, and translation into Gujarati is a frustrating, but necessary, part of every class that I teach. Sometimes I leave class confused if I have achieved anything more than my Indian counterparts and wondering what it is that I am doing here that is so important. Luckily, living at the school so close to my students gives me a chance to interact with them informally on a day to day basisand really restores my faith in what I'm doing here.

Spoken English boys at the Independence Day celebration, proud of their role in the ceremony.

I am daily harassed by my students with questions and descriptions of their days. Though it can be annoying to hear "TEACHER, TEACHER! HOW ARE YOU?!" all the time, it is also great to hear such enthusiasm from my students who are often too shy to speak in front of their peers in the classroom. Walking by students homes often results in short conversations with family members, or even invitations to dinner. Once, while walking to a friend's house, Claire and I were ambushed by several 7th standard students and ushered into a house. I was delighted to see one of my quietest boys in 7B inside the house next to his Ganesh statue, eager to show and explain (as best he could) the importance of this small statue.

Juhi at Krishna Janmashtami. She invited us to see the shrine in her home just after this picture was taken.

These encounters happen more often than I expected, especially when a religious festival is involved. The festival for Krishna's birthday prompted several students to seek us out in the crowd of people at temples. Once they had gotten our attention, these kids eagerly took us to each section of the temple, taught us how to correctly rock the cradle holding baby Krishna, and forced us to eat as much prasad as we could stomach. For the days leading up to Ganapati, we had students on our porch every night at 8 on the dot to ask us to go to the temple. While there, they would introduce us to their friends or family, and often serve as translators for us when the third person spoke no English. It is so great to hear how far they've come in these short months, especially in such an informal setting. I feel so lucky to be so involved in the community that my students are comfortable enough to speak English with me outside of the classroom!

"Teacher! How are you? You come temple?"

The Story of Ganesha and Ganesha Festival

Ganesh festival is a celebration for a Hindu God called Ganesha, who is also known in the west as the Elephant-Headed God. Ganesha is the son of one of the three main Hindu Gods called Shiv. Before I talk about the festival, I would like to introduce Ganesha and his importance in the Hindu world. There are many religious stories on how Ganesha received his elephant head; I will share the one I grew up with. Shiv, Ganesha’s father use to travel a lot to the mountains when Ganesha was growing up so Ganesha was very attached to his mother. One day Parvati, Ganesha’s mother went to take a bath. She told Ganesha to guard the door from outside and not let anyone in. Shiv came there and asked Ganesha to let him in. Ganesha refused. Shiv is known as the God of destruction. He is known for his anger. Shiv didn’t take no for an answer and he cut Ganesha’s head. Parvati came out and found her son dead. She told Shiv to bring her son back to life unless she will use her special powers to destroy everything. Shiv couldn’t replace Ganesha’s head and bring him back to life with the same head, so they decided to wait for the first thing that passes in certain direction to cut its head. An elephant passed and so Shiv cut that elephant’s head and performed the rituals to replace Ganesha’s head. Parvati was very concerned about her son’s future with the elephant head. She took a promise from shiv that in the mortal world, Ganesha should be prayed first on any occasion, and Ganesha should come before any God. Even today, Ganesha is prayed to before any other major Hindu Gods or Goddesses. Ganesha resides on a mouse, he has a big belly and he loves ladoos (an Indian sweet made of wheat flour, sugar, cinnamon, almonds etc…)

Ganesh festival is usually celebrated for 5 to 10 days. A group of people or a community comes together and builds a booth in which a big Ganesh Idol is placed. These idols are ordered months in advance. In Bajipura there were about 6-8 Ganesha booths. On the first day of the festival a ritual for calling the great Ganesha to come and reside in these booths were performed. After the initial rituals, each morning and evening for all 10 days prayers performed at these booths. On the last day there was a closing ceremony where the idols were taken to the river bank and dispersed in the water. Dispersing depends on the auspicious day and time the Brahmin (the highest Hindu caste) priest has suggested.

In Bajipura, it was really good to see the whole community come together every night. Each booth had something special going on. Some prayed with classical music in the background, some did Garba (Gujarati folk dance) and some had feasts. My Hindu students enjoyed this festival a lot. Every day in class my students would invite me to go see their Ganesha after school. “Teacher, please come to our Ganesha we will play carrom.”Carrom is an Indian board game which my students enjoyed playing during this festival. After going to various different Ganesha booths every night, I realized that it wasn’t just a festival for children; it was rather a learning experience. Parents allowed children to be out till late because they wanted their children to see how everything is arranged so that in future they can carry this tradition forward. It wasn’t just time to play and chill; it was a lot more than that. Along with my students, this festival was a very unique learning experience for me too. I can’t wait to come back to India in future to celebrate this festival again.

Happy Anniversary!

This weekend I celebrated my three month anniversary; with India. My arrival in June seems so far away and some days it seems that the more I learn about India, the less I know. I have learned that in India there are some things you can always count on, like the lunchtime chai delivery at 1:25 every day and the consistent inconsistencies of power and water. Stereotypes of India and of Indian people should never be counted on.

In my three months I have developed relationships not only with my students, but also the Gujarati teachers and one teacher in particular comes to mind. Upon meeting this teacher for the first time I was unsure how to feel about him. He introduced himself as the PE teacher, but he didn’t have to tell me that for me to know. I could tell by the shirt tucked into his sweat pants, the athletic shoes on his feet and the whistle around his neck. He also walked around with such an overbearing air; he was loud, his eyes could stare any student into submission and his whistle blows were sharp and piercing. It was funny to me that such a stereotype could cross cultures. Truth be told, I was a little scared of him at first.

Needless to say, I was more than a little surprised when I found the PE teacher in the back of my first Spoken English class. “I want to learn from you,” he explained when he could see my eyes questioning his presence. His English was broken and we communicated with holes of confusion. He made notes on paper from my writing on the board and I could tell he was making a concerted effort to improve his English. When my section of boys got too loud one day he was quick to reprimand them and I decided that this arrangement would work quite nicely; I could teach him English and he could help with classroom management.

Our conversations became more frequent and we talked about many different things. I learned things about his family and told him things about mine. We talked about the different sports the students enjoy and how to play them (although I still have no idea how to play Kho-Kho). When I needed rides to and from the English Medium school he was quick to volunteer, his reply to my "thanks" always being “No mention.” One day another American teacher was introduced to him and she told him that his English was very good. He laughed, and pointing to me said “She is a good teacher.”

Another teacher that I have grown very fond of is a primary teacher that I work with. Together we teach 6th and 7th standard, two of my favorite classes. Our working relationship in the classroom is seamless. After class on Thursdays we sit together in the primary staff room drinking tea and talking. She said she would help to arrange my marriage, and I half agreed. Her love for her students is obvious and I am so happy that we can teach together.

Someone else that I have enjoyed spending time with is a trustee on the school board. Within the first two weeks of arrival in India we had an invitation to his house down the street for a Mexican dinner. His family worked hard to make us feel at home and that night I had the best ice cream I’ve ever eaten. Tonight I called him to ask if he knew a place to get faluda, our new favorite Indian dessert. He said he didn’t know of a place but that he would call back in five minutes. When my cell rang he said he was waiting outside our house. We jumped in his car and he took us to his house where his wife made us delicious faluda and we feasted on custard apples while sitting on his porch swing. It was a very nice night.

I am always so surprised at the level of kindness and hospitality shown to us. I love getting to talk candidly with people here and the new ideas that form in my head as a result of those talks. I am enjoying the relationships that I am developing and I look forward learning more from them.

Teacher Appreciation Day

**This is my final post to the NEF blog, as my internship is now finished and I am back in DC for another school year. The following is an entry that I wrote several weeks ago while I was visiting Bombay before returning to the United States. Thank you for reading, and I hope you will continue to follow the exciting stories that the Nanubhai fellows post throughout the year!

Dear Reader,

Because all the girls were wearing such beautiful clothes to school during Aluna (see my previous posts for details), I was feeling slightly underdressed in my simple salwar kameez. So on Teacher Appreciation Day, I decided to “up” it a little and wear a sari to school for the first time!

Wearing a sari is quite an ordeal for the inexperienced foreigner. It was only after some practicing and weekend coaching/tough love from my friend Dimpal that I was able to pull together something that looked even remotely like how a sari should be on a person. So to prepare for the worst, I woke up an hour earlier than usual to wear a sari to school for Teacher Appreciation Day. After some miraculous maneuvering (and, I admit, a little help from Jhaya-ben, our cook and Dimpal’s mother), I was ready to go to school!

I was astounded by the difference wearing a sari made. Despite my constant fear of tripping or my sari unraveling, I was surprised by the students’ lovely comments of “Teacher, you are looking very fine today!” The amount of respect I got from the usually very rowdy 12^th standard boys was incredible. Hina-ben, the secondary school Gujarati teacher, said to me, “Now you are looking like a real teacher!” It made me contemplate wearing a sari every day to school.

As I was sitting, these thoughts running through my head, students began to trickle into the staff room. Little did I know that Teacher Appreciation Day also meant Students-Mob-the-Staff-Room-Day; within minutes, every R.V. Patel school student, from Junior KG to 12^th standard, was rushing to the staff room, pushing to get inside until a teacher ordered that there be a line winding through the staff room and trailing outside the door. So in a single file line, the students went around to each teacher and honored them by touching their feet. In turn, the teachers touched each student’s head, giving them their blessing. In India, teachers are highly respected—they are gurus, and the source of knowledge.

I felt like I did not deserve to be treated with so much respect from the students; should they have to touch the feet of a lowly college intern who, for some, is not much older than them (although I tried to hide my age for as long as I could)? But the other teachers kindly assured me, “No Milly, you are a teacher, you are one of us!” How could I reject the smiling faces of the students as they bent down to touch my feet and secretly gave me flowers and candy? I am here to share my knowledge of the English language with them, and that is the least I can hope they get out of me being there. So why not? I wholeheartedly accepted all the students, giving them all the blessings that my inexperienced years had the capacity to give.

Namaste and thank you for reading,

Milly

Fashion and Frivolity

America’s Next Top Model, step back.

Our fashion-forward friends in Surat can give you a run for your money!

The festival of Ganapati (described by other teachers below), which figures twin statues of the god Ganesha being tossed into bodies of water across the country, is precluded by ten evenings of events and excitement. Along with daily offerings of puja to the beneficent elephants, residential communities come together each night to host fun activities where neighbors compete against each other to show off their talents and win prizes.

Though there were no Ganesha statues in our own residential complex (too expensive, not enough residents, etc.) we were invited to the final event being hosted in one of our fellow teacher’s neighborhoods, a twenty-minute rickshaw ride away. Reema Ma’am is not only a great companion at school, she is also a fantastic hostess, and had volunteered to put together the fashion show competition at her residence.

We arrived at 9:00 while everyone slowly and leisurely gathered together, having snacks and drinks and adding final touches to their outfits. Upon our arrival, Pamela and I were surprised to discover that Reema Ma’am had appointed us as the judges for the competition. At 10:30, when the event finally commenced, we were escorted to sit down… directly on the edge of the Ganapati shrine. Feeling underdressed against our backdrop of sparkles, we took our seats awkwardly, smiling at the audience that faced us (two foreigners in front of two brilliantly pink Ganeshas).



With a total of four different age groups competing, the participants numbered near about thirty. Many seemed to have selected their own musical track which blared out of giant speakers, turned on by a radio DJ sitting right up against the statues, and each was to take a total of two turns around an open floor downstairs, moving first toward the judges (us) and then back around to the audience. We gave scores across three categories: Walk (including confidence and pacing), Dress, and Style (different from dress because it includes embellishments such as turns and creative poses).

From the 5 year old beauties tottering along with their mothers, to the strutting gray-haired grandmother hamming it up for the crowd, we kept breaking our serious judges faces with laughter for the entire competition. Some of the more ambitious participants would fix me with a steely, confident look as they pranced my way only to stop at an abrupt angle and look at me from under dark lashes, red lips pursed, and blow a kiss our direction. A few had stunning charisma (Pamela and I both singled out a blooming Miss India) and great energy. A couple ringed solid 10s from both of us, and one brightly-dressed young girl carried a bouquet with her and, upon reaching the “judges stand,” extravagantly extracted a flower each for me and Pamela before twirling away across the stage. She may have only scored a 9 for her walk but she broke the record with an 11 from me for style.



By this point, we’ve been called on to help judge a number of competitions at Khatiwala, but this fashion show broke my expectations—it was incredibly fun. I’ve always felt that India is the best-dressed country I’ve so far encountered, and so much of everyone’s income seems to be invested in the pursuit of gold, jewels, and beauty… and let me tell you, the fashion show didn’t disappoint. These people are gorgeous and they know it.

Namaste,
Dalena

Ganapati in Kadod

August has been a month of many festivals here in Kadod. We have celebrated Aluna, Krishna Janamashtami, and most recently, Ganapati. This festival celebrates Lord Ganesh through the decoration of elaborate statues that are placed throughout the village and worshipped for about a week and a half. Each night of the festival a few of our students came to the house to invite us to the temple for the evening puja. This typically consisted of me and Claire standing awkwardly by the Ganesh statue, occasionally participating in the ceremony by thowing flowers at the feet of the statue or even waving the offering candles along with one of the donors of the statue. The highlight of most of these evenings came in the conversations we had afterwards with many community members. People were all eager to ask us questions about our life here in India, but unfortunately most of them did not speak English, and our Hindi is still not good enough to carry on a casual conversation. Luckily, our students were excited to practice their English and serve as our translators for the evening. It was great to hear how far they've come in just three weeks of conversational English!

After 10 days of evening offerings to Lord Ganesh, all of the villages around Kadod brought their beautiful statues through the town to throw in the river. This culminated in a big procession full of music, dancing, and gulal (pink powder). Here are some photos from the 5 hour long parade.

The tailor's son with his grandparents watching the parade begin.

The calm before the storm.

A final puja before the statue is taken out of its shrine.

Kids got really into the gulal war that happened throughout the day.

Some girls put on protective face masks before dancing in the parade. This kept them from inhaling too much of the powder and car exhaust in the long procession of trucks and tractors.

Women gave prasad from their Ganesh floats.

Whistles were a favorite instrument of all our students watching the procession.

Here's one of the crazier groups forming a human pyramid while their friends danced around them.

Our friend Darshanbhai was very into the holiday.


Many of my students stopped dancing briefly to pose for a picture (and throw pink powder their teacher).

Needless to say, I was fully pink by the end of the day. My students were particularly excited to cover their American teacher in gulal. All in all, it was a really fun day. Festivals like this one have been a great way to feel a part of the Kadod community and get to know a few more people in this lovely village.

The Week of so much Excitement

Aluna Festival is my first festival here in India. It is a busy week for the schools and the community. We have had excitement in more ways than one. From feeling faint due to lack of food to dancing the night away underneath the star filled Bajipura sky.

The festival began with a mendhi competition at the school. This was a great kick off for the festival. There is no greater way to celebrate than to adorn one’s arms in the intricate art of mendhi. The students are truly artists. Somehow they manipulate a small tube of paste to create small wonders. They do not take time to deliberate about the design it just simply flows from their hands.

This is no week to be shy about beauty. Teacher and students are all wearing mendhi on their hands, arms , and feet. Also girls are wearing their most fancy dresses and teachers brought out new saris for the occasion.

On Sunday the fast started. It is a five day fast where girls can only eat fruits and nuts. There is only one meal and it is made from a special flour and there is absolutely no salt. This is a fast so that you will someday have a good husband. I also started the fast, which began with giving offerings at the temple. One of the offerings is fruits, leaves, flowers, and water. The priest guides the group of women through the offering through a series of mantras. The offering ends in the singing of a mantra and a story and then the women start their five day fast.

On Monday all the girls are able to come to school out of uniform. This turns into a fashion show, with clothes from typical Salwar Kameez, to very elaborate and trendy dresses. The latest fashion in dresses are tight fitting pants, similar to skinny jeans and a top that has a tight bodice and flowey at the bottom. Some girls prefer completely western clothes. Wearing trendy shirts with writing in English and extremely decorative jeans, adorned in flowers and designs.

On Wednesday there was an Arthi competition. Arthi’s are elaborately decorated and have small balls of wax with wicks of flame that are moved in circular motions, while singing to God. I went to the competition and I was quickly made to judge the competition. I was trying to tell them that I was certainly not an Arthi expert, since I had never attended any competition for Arthi, but still they insisted I could judge. In the English medium school there was over fifty contestants and I had to give scores for all of these students. The students have metal trays that are decorated with dough, colorful beads, flowers, glitter, sand, lentals, nuts, etc. The arthi is then lit with candles and is used for religious practices. So far I believe on the whole that children from India are more artistic. Most of the children were able to transform their tray into a masterpiece. Some other students struggled and made something that looked like a birthday cake gone bad. Most all the students created elaborate works of art, so to pick the winners I had to play a little game of enie miney miney moe. Clearly this is the most objective thing to do in such situations.

Thursday night was the last day of the fast. Apparently this is cause for celebration, but all I felt like doing was going to sleep. The tradition is that girls stay up to at least after midnight, sometimes all night. After a dinner of thin rothi and unseasoned potatoes, due to the no salt rule, I felt like I had enough energy to sleep at the table. Despite the way I felt there were so many festivities occurring outside I was nearly dragged kicking and screaming to celebrate. The neighborhood was gathered around our temple doing a dance called Garba. All of my students also pleaded that I join in the dancing. While all the other women were mostly in saris I was wearing pajamas. This was perfect, many people thought. As I was already a sight to see dancing a dance I had never seen before, but to top it all off now I was in pajamas! After dancing Garba we marched down the street singing, ringing bells and banging drums. People might kill you for this in the US, particularly because it was after nine pm. After the march there was a fake marriage. Again drums and singing and also blessings were made inside a wooden structure worn on people’s head, as we marched down the street many people were invited to give blessings. I was invited also and gave rice, blades of grass, and red powder as an offering. Also kids came to make offerings and at the end were asked to bow and given a big slap on the back. One of the children was a young girl dressed in an elaborate sari, including all the necessary ornaments, necklace, bindi, bangles, anklets etc. Her parents were encouraging her to sit with me for pictures, which she was very reluctant to do since I was a complete stranger to her.

We then continued dancing Garba this time to a drum beat and now I was becoming much more comfortable and was really enjoying myself. The night was finished with a singing competition. Two lines of women faced each other and one group must sing a song and the other group also sings a new song, but it must begin with the same sound the other groups song ended with. This was a very popular game and continued for so long I finally had to get up so I wouldn’t fall asleep right there under the stars. As I walked back I heard the singing loud and clear all down the street.

The final and most exciting part of the festival occurred on Saturday morning after the festival finished. The school held an annual fancy dress completion/ Hindi skit performance/ Dance competition. This was so much fun. The young children were dressed as rag women, milk men and women gods and goddesses. One of the most memorable competitors was a little boy dressed as an old fashioned singer. He got on stage and with unbelievable confidence belted out tune after tune. My favorite part of the day was the dancing. Everyone could tell by me sitting on the edge of my chair. The supervisor even said into the microphone Meghna teacher this is when you want to start recording. Although my memory card on my camera was nearly full. I captured each and every dance performance, so I could try and emulate them later.

My first festival in India proved to be very exciting and a great time. This month and August are supposed to be filled with festivals, which will be a great exposure to this colorful culture.