In, and right back out again.

Alright, people!

I've now been back in the US for nearly 2 months. I'm ready to get back out.

The mobsters at Sallie Mae want their money, and my part time job -- as much as I love it -- doesn't quite cut it in the face of massive American student loans. Therefore, I have begun to look for somewhat more traditional employment. Bummer, right? My millennial self thinks so, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. A few years working for The Man and then pay for everything else in cash seems like it might be the way to go.

I've got a few leads that could take me to Brooklyn, Chicago, Milwaukee, or even Utah. I've considered going back to school for something practical like engineering. And then, earlier this evening, one of my fellow ESL teachers from Tibet Charity floated the idea that we pursue a joint teaching venture in Japan. Now THAT sounds interesting.

In other news, my venture to the Pacific Northwest is drawing nearer! In just a little over a week I'll be on my way out to Seattle, and from there roaming around the general area as far as, perhaps, Portland, Vancouver, and somewhere further into the interior of British Columbia. Mostly I'm looking forward to the super-fresh sushi.

Stay tuned for pix!

(Oh, and the Japan jobs want us to start in March/April... so it could be that I'm back in Illinois for a month or less before heading overseas again. Talk about doing things last-minute!)

Future Travel Plans in the Making

Hello there, friends!

I think I'm pretty much all settled in back here in Illinois. I've managed to only drive on the correct side of the road, order in English at restaurants, and still take quick showers even though now I have the resources to drag them out a little.

I got home just in time to pick up a bunch of Xmas party hours at Duke's Catering (call them if you ever have a party, wedding reception, luncheon, etc to cater; they'll take good care of ya), which is awesome considering I hadn't made a dime in the previous 4+ months. I love my job. Unfortunately, I am of the generation that has been hosed by the American higher education system, and thus I find myself with a retardedly large amount of student debt. I love my job, but I've been keeping my eyes open for additional work that will help pay the bills. (If you know of anything good, help a sister out.)

People have asked if I'd like to travel again, to teach English again. My answer is absolutely -- the question is where? And when, I'm not sure. I had planned on staying here in the US for at least a year and paying off some of the aforementioned debt, but lately I find myself wondering if I should just scamper off to some other corner of the world and teach for a while. I had a great time in India; as many people pointed out, if you can travel in India you can travel anywhere. My confidence has gotten a boost and thanks to the magic of The Internets, I can keep in touch with all of you. Four months really didn't seem all that long. I think I could do a year-long contract now, especially if I were getting paid decently.

I'd still love to see Europe, but my sources indicate that the opportunity to make a profit there is limited. Japan might be a better option for me, at least for the near future. At some point I'd like to make my way to Hungary, where my grandparents are from. I've always felt that if you're going to live in a country then you have an obligation to learn at least a few basic phrases in the local language; for this reason, there are places I'm just not all that interested in traveling to. Chinese and Thai intimidate me: China, Taiwan, and Thailand are not at the top of my must-see list. (Well, China I don't particularly want to visit for plenty of other reasons... I DID just get back from teaching a bunch of Tibetans, after all.)

In other travel news, I actually will be leaving the States again in a mere 2 months. This time I'm staying much closer to home, though -- I'll finally get to see Vancouver! It's a place I've wanted to visit for years now and just never seemed to get around to it. After spending a third of a year on the other side of the world, hopping a plane to the west coast doesn't seem like such a big deal. I hear there's also snowboarding to be done out there.

Adventure ho!

Post-India sushi!

P.S.: The short amount of time it takes to upload and post photos here, as compared to the last few months, is practically obscene.

Mind. Blown.

Down to the Last Few Days

Well, that's it. I taught my last day of class at Tibet Charity today. Tomorrow we have final exams, Thursday is a free day -- during which many of the teachers are having a little party or somesuch for their students; Gusti and I are taking ours out for pizza -- Friday is the closing ceremony, and that's it. Done. I have zero obligations thenceforth until I leave the country less than a week later.

I think my students will do well. Rather than give them a cumulative final I opted to just have a last chapter test. It seems shorter and easier than the others, so I hope they all do well. Today was a review day; we went over everything that will appear on the test and most of them took what appeared to be comprehensive notes, so I hope they study a bit and show me what they can do.

After class I met with Lobsang again, one of the pre-intermediate students, and we went over the material that was likely to be on his test tomorrow. They've been working on nothing/something/anything and how to use phrases like so do I, so can I, so have I, neither have I, etc. It's tricky trying to explain why you use one over the others sometimes, but what we decided on is you only really use so have I or neither have I when the sentence you're responding to appears in present perfect tense ("I have lived here for 5 years" -> "So have I", but "I live here" -> "So do I"). I'm not sure if this works in every case or even most of them, but it seemed to do the trick enough to at least get him through this test. He told me about how this class is the first English class he's taken; up until this point all the English he knows he learned from self-study and from asking people. It's inspiring. Many of my students are inspiring. Today I got the first real pang of sadness, knowing that in just a short time I'll be leaving them for a while, perhaps forever. I hope some of them keep in touch.

Lobsang walked me part of the way home because it was getting dark by the time we finished studying. One thing I like about India is that so many people seem concerned for one another. Their sense of personal space is much smaller than it is in the west; you see people walking down the street hand in hand all the time. The most noticeable difference is that most of them are men. It's very unusual to see two people of the opposite sex holding hands here, but two guys? I see it all the time. Two women? Also not weird, though considerably less common. Many of my students and friends here have offered to walk me home at various points throughout my stay, the monks especially. The sense of community here is strong, and I've felt welcomed from very early on.

I'll miss it. I'll miss them.

I've been getting asked a lot if I'll come back to India in general, and Dharamsala in particular. I tell them the truth: Probably not for a while, but I'd like to at some point. I like it here. It isn't perfect, but it's got a sort of honesty about it that I can appreciate. If you've never been to India, you should check it out. It's not as scary as the MSM would have you believe.

Uncounting

The end of the fall semester at Tibet Charity is rapidly approaching. Classes end on the 26th, final exams are the next day, and then Friday there is a closing ceremony. I'm having a chupa made just for me for the closing ceremony, and I'm pretty pumped about it. I think it'll look nice, and the color should coordinate nicely with the new juties I got in Jaipur.

A couple of my Pre-Intermediate students have been asking me for help studying for their final. I've met with both of them the last few nights; I haven't seen either of them in a while. The one also said we are going to have to go have lunch sometime before I leave India. It's nice to be appreciated.

The current chapter in my class deals with countable vs. uncountable nouns, and today we introduced how much and how many. Teaching English can be tricky because it's hard to give students "rules" to follow; you tell them an uncountable noun, like "bread" (you say "some bread," not "a bread"... usually) can be made countable by adding the phrase "a piece of" in front of it: a piece of bread. Some rice becomes a piece of rice. No problem, right? Some meat and a piece of meat, some fish becomes a piece of fish... Then you get to some butter/a piece of butter and it starts sounding a little funny. It still works, though. When you make it to some grapes... well. Have you ever said "a piece of grapes"? I didn't think so. Regardless, they are handling it well. The end of the semester is always fun because everyone relaxes a bit. I'm not a huge advocate of keeping a distance between myself and my students; I want them to be comfortable with me and have fun in class, because that's how you learn best. Interested students are studious students. We laugh even more now than we did early in the semester; they understand more colloquialisms (today we went through "it doesn't matter," "got it," "leftovers," and other similar phrases) and give clever responses to my questions.

My hope is to make it through this chapter by the time finals roll around. We're just shy of halfway, with three days of class remaining. The power was out the entire class period today, so that meant we couldn't do any of the listening exercises that came with the textbook. We focused more on speaking and how to phrase questions and answers instead. I like to have a review day before each exam; I don't think we'll get a whole day this time, but I'm definitely going to try to give them at least half of one. Hopefully they'll all have done their homework.

I'm going to miss them when I go. I've collected a few email addresses; I'd like to keep in touch with as many of them as I can. I've met so many interesting people here in India, from so many different backgrounds. Some of the Tibetans were born here, in exile, and others have stories of crossing the mountains on foot, traveling at night because there was less risk of being caught that way. All of them dream of someday returning to Tibet. I've met some very cool Indians, and a couple of my fellow expats have entered the ranks of my best friends. As always, part of me can't wait to get home and see all of you -- but another part of me knows that I'll miss this place once I go. Even now, with two weeks remaining, I feel like I'm not entirely here. I haven't totally unpacked my bags in my new place; I'm not going to. I don't want to get too settled, because I'm just going to have to undo it all in a handful of days anyway. I've now stayed at 4 of the hotels near Tibet Charity. I feel like a nomad. I can definitely understand how people get addicted to traveling... it's been one of the most incredible experiences of my life. It's just what I needed, and I'm so grateful to everyone who helped make it happen.

Back to Class

While I was in Rajasthan, Gusti and my class managed to get through two chapters in the textbook. They  had a test scheduled for today -- I try not to have them fall on Mondays, but we're in crunch time now so I just went with it; plus I haven't been here to object -- so I figured it would make for a nice, easy segue back into teaching mode.

When a few of my students saw me in the hall before class I got surprised looks and excited hellos. It was like they didn't expect me to actually come back after my trip! I suppose, to be fair, I had told them I'd be gone "2 or 3 weeks," and at the time I had been leaning more toward 2, so maybe it's not unreasonable that they thought I just decided to stay.

They were curious about my trip so I told them briefly about some of the highlights: riding camels in the desert, the broken train on the way back... but some of them tend to make use of the full 2 hours allowed on test day, so I didn't want to cut into that too much.

They seemed to struggle with the test. Even my strongest students regarded their papers with furrowed brows and made extra use of their erasers. Everyone took longer than usual to finish. I had to clarify a bunch of points, and even then they seemed to have trouble.

They all finished, though, and on time.

I just finished grading the stack of exams, and oh my goodness... they aren't looking very good. I'm not sure what happened, but they definitely weren't lying when a bunch of them told me as they turned in their papers that the test was "very difficult." I wound up giving everyone an extra 10 percentage points so their final grades wouldn't be too thrown out of whack; we won't have time to re-take them, and since I wasn't here to make sure they understood the material, I can't say for sure what happened. When everyone in a class fails to understand, though, I don't think you ought to punish the students because clearly something else is up. Maybe the material was too difficult, maybe they rushed through it... I'm not sure, but it's my opinion that a student's understanding of the material is far more important than a grade, and if they can communicate effectively in English then I see no reason to bum them out with poor marks when it's probably not their fault anyway.

It's for this same reason that I'm with Van on the subject of recognizing the top 2-3 students in each class at our closing ceremony (we're against it): it doesn't matter if you get better scores than your peers, what matters is being able to use the language.

Anyway, I'm glad that's over. I think we may spend most of class tomorrow going over the test and trying to understand what the heck happened.

On a completely unrelated note, the areas around my hometown got hammered by tornadoes yesterday. It's my understanding that most of the damage was to property; relatively few people were injured. I wish I were there to help out. :( This is the first time I really felt the distance from home: there's insanity happening near a great many of the people I care about, and there's not a damned thing I can do aside from follow it online. A friend sent me this message (I hope you don't mind me reposting it, you-know-who-you-are):

You travel across the world to help refugees and thus inadvertently escape the apocalypse back home. I don't believe in karma or anything, but yeah. Karma.

Huh. I hadn't even thought of it like that.

The way I tend to be

Last night as I made my way up the steps of Pause Dwelling, I heard a familiar "namaste, ma'am" from just above and to my left. It was promptly followed by a short string of Hindi, of which I was able to make out just enough to stumble through a response of "I'm going to my room" (मै मेरा कमरा जा रहीं हूँ ). ... Or at least that's what I said, it might not quite be right.

He said something else so I hopped up the last couple of steps and around onto the balcony where he was sitting, and I took the empty seat next to him. Long story short, by the time I actually made it to my room I had a basic understanding of how to write Hindi -- not just try to mimic the typewritten text in books -- and I had also been assigned homework:

Who gives "Don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today" as a first translation assignment??

I also installed a Hindi keyboard and a flashcard app on my phone so I can study when I don't have internet. Brij gave me a couple of movies in Hindi to watch, as well as some music. The language itself really is, I think, relatively easy... it's just the fact that I'm learning a new language at all that's tricky. The grammar seems to be pretty consistent and now that I can read the script, I'm finding that most words are phonetic.

As far as English class at Tibet Charity, today we were studying possessive pronouns and rhyming words. Naturally, the book suggested I give them songs as examples. The ones it provided were Roy Orbison's Pretty Woman and Every Breath You Take by The Police (Every breath you take/Every move you make... boom, rhyming words). I took the liberty of adding my own personal touch and gave them "I was her love, she was my queen/And now a thousand years between" and "Then I remember you/And the way you shine like truth in all you do"... I couldn't help myself. Hearing them read the lyrics off the board was a trip, too.

At the break, Gusti suggested I give them some nursery rhymes to further illustrate the point. Neither of us could recall much, but I did give them "Baa Baa Black Sheep" and "Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star." They really seemed to enjoy it, and they understood rhyming well enough by the end of it that I was able to leave "sky" blank and they figured it out (rhymes with high, judging from the meaning, etc).

Then the book had an activity for us that involved filling in missing words from song lyrics. The song it chose, due to its high content of possessive pronouns, was this. I felt like I was either at a wedding reception or a high school dance. Imagine me teaching this to a bunch of monks and nuns. Pretty hilarious, right? Now I've got it stuck in my head.

So it goes. There are worse things in the world.

Make the vowel say its name

One thing I realized earlier is that some of the best classes we have at Tibet Charity are the ones that are not done, literally, by the book. My favorite ones to teach and, it seems, the ones that are often the favorites of the students as well, are the ones where we get off on some kind of tangent and explore some aspect of English that isn't necessarily in the lesson plan. A while back there was an entire day where all we did was prefixes, suffixes, and root words.

Today we wound up spending some time on pronunciation and spelling; the students had taken a test yesterday and I always go over it with them as a class the next day. Only one or two of them had spelled “twentieth” correctly, and when we read the reading passage I decided we could use some pronunciation practice. The main topic was how when a word ends in the letter “e,” the preceding vowel “says its name.” Obviously, like all rules in English, this is not an absolute... but it helped them distinguish between “Tim” and “time,” and I wound up teaching them a bunch of new vocabulary words in the process of illustrating the rule. We used words like pal/pale, tam/tame, slid/slide, and can/cane. They learned not only how to pronounce “crate” and “kale” but what they mean.

After that we did some sentence correcting on the board, which always goes over well. The first time I had them do it they were quite shy, but now that it's become a semi-regular thing they seem to enjoy it. I take sentences from their writing assignments and change some of the details but keep the mistakes. They go back and forth and help each other figure out how to fix them. I should probably spend more time developing exercises to supplement this, but we're not supposed to make copies aside from tests... so it's a little tricky. At least we have fun. Fun things are easier to remember.

This afternoon we said farewell to a couple of the teachers; Brij and Marie left on a trip to Rishikesh, where they will stay for at least the next week. As far as I know they don't have a strict itinerary, which is the same way we plan to see Rajasthan later this month. Everybody wish them a safe and fun trip!

While the two of them were getting their things to the bus to Rishikesh, I accompanied Verity, Gill, and Gusti to a meditation group that is held on Wednesday evenings here. They went once a couple of weeks ago; I had never been.

I think it was good for me. I'm going to try to work in a bit of meditation on a regular schedule and see what happens. I try to apply a lot of the principles that were introduced tonight anyway, but it's definitely something that could afford to be practiced and cultivated.

We did three separate meditations, the second of which was “walking” or “moving meditation.” It was a bit awkward at first, and then I realized that it was because dance is my moving meditation. When I'm home alone I put on music and just move, whatever seems like a good idea, I let the music guide me. That's what they were going for this evening, I think, but seeing as most people are too shy to really let loose in a room of people they don't know (I know I was the first few times I was asked to do it), just walking while drawing your awareness to everything you sense was probably the better way to go. Personally, though, I felt somewhat restricted. I decided I'll have to dance more in my room or maybe up on the balcony when nobody else is around.

I've been trying to work in a bit of yoga here and there, but it's mainly driven by my need to stretch. About a month and a half ago I took a yoga class in Bhagsu where we were instructed on how to properly do a headstand; I think I'm doing something wrong, though. Can anyone help? You yogis and yoginis out there... how do you do it?

What did you do over the holiday?

Oh my goodness... my students are great.

I have them write a reflection after every test, and every time we have any days off from class I have them write about what happens during the holiday. Last week we had the entire week off; HH the Dalai Lama was teaching Monday-Thursday, and so Tibet Charity decided to just close for the whole week since it didn't make much sense to have class only on Friday.

This evening I was procrastinating, whining internally about having to grade so many tests (not that many, really.. it was definitely whining) – I studied Hindi, I graded a little at a time and rewarded myself with other activities like rewinding the yarn I bought or doing push-ups, or making a list of reasons to stay until December and another list of reasons to leave a few weeks early. Eventually I decided to just buckle down and finish grading. After I got through the tests – which wasn't that bad – I remembered I still had to correct the papers on what they'd done last week.

Once I actually started doing it it went so quickly... lol... Their writing is a bit dry and predictable (usually) when they have to write about “your daily routine” or when they are asked to answer specific questions. When I let them write about what they want, though, some of them get really creative. I have a few students who must be getting pretty comfortable with me and/or with the English language, because they express these colorful, lively stories.

As it turns out, a few of my students went out to the Rewalsar/Manali area last week as well. One told me about how he and his friend got sick on the bus and threw up on the way to Rewalsar. He said that when he got there he “saw lake and statue so strong faith, but in the lake lot of fish so a little compassion.” Only Buddhists! He also worked in some of the vocabulary words we'd been using in conversation class. He did not vomit on the way back.

Another student, one of the monks, told me about how he and a friend went down to Lower Dharamsala to shop, and how they stopped for sweets and sweet tea. They met another friend on the way back who suggested they all go get some more sweets – and how they had a fun little discussion about how they couldn't keep eating like that because they'd get sick, and it's a good thing he bought new shoes to exercise!

Part of the test was to answer questions like “What do you always do?” and “What do you sometimes do?” Many of them answered that they always study English, but one said she always dances at home. I gave all of those answers smiley faces. Maybe they'll get stickers, too.

A few of my students begin nearly every writing assignment with “Hi dear teacher, how are you?” or “Dear teacher Magda...” I think it's cute. It's stuff like this that makes me want to stay. Regardless of when I leave, I'm going to miss them. I have a few of their email addresses; I'll have to get more of them. Maybe I can connect with some of them on Google+ (where you can filter who sees what much more easily than you can on Facebook). I have a few who ask if I'm teaching conversation class or if another teacher is; I suspect that they play favorites, and I know at least one of them comes to my class and not the others. I admit it makes me feel a little warm and fuzzy inside.

As far as the coming-home plans, it looks like financially it'll be pretty much a wash between staying until December or coming home a few weeks early. I'll see how I feel after the trip to Rajasthan, I guess. There are plenty of teachers here and I spoke to the boss, who said it would be fine to go whenever I wanted, so that's nice to know.

On an unrelated note, it looks like my room threw up on my bed. I'm an artist, I tell ya... that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Organized chaos: it's how I work best. I like having things neat and clean, but somehow I can never keep them that way for long. It just seems to futile to constantly be putting things away when you know they're just going to get taken out again... right? Plus when it's as humid as it is here, you almost have to leave your clothes out in an attempt to let them dry, unless you aren't concerned about that pesky mildew smell.

And now, since I did manage to finish grading all of these tests, I think I am going to reward myself with a bit of knitting before I get back to studying Hindi, or designing some kind of grammar drills for class. I think they need a little more structure in their writing assignments, and it's my job to provide that. Giving them sentences on the board to correct as a class has also gone over well in the past; I should come up with some more of those to give them. Hmmm......

Suggestions?

A lack of beggars

One of the differences we'd noticed in Manali was a lack of beggars roaming the streets. In Dharamsala there are days when you can't walk fifteen feet without having someone call out "Sister, hello! Hello! Namaste!" or a woman with a baby on her hip come up, tap you on the shoulder and say "No money, milk. Hungry baby." You feel bad, but you also can't save everyone. Apparently the ones who ask for things other than money, like milk, take these items and sell them back to the shopkeepers. I've heard stories that the children don't even always belong to the women holding them; one of my students told me the beggars go to daycare centers, borrow the kids, and return them along with a share of the day's profits in the evening.

Anyway, we're back in D'sala and that means our reprieve from the begging has come to an end. Manali was also a lot cleaner. Oh well.

Something else I first noticed in Manali but that has also carried over in other areas of the mountainous Himachal Pradesh is a profusion of sweater vests. This makes me happy. Well, their presence in general makes me happy, being a knitter... the fact that they are all made out of what is obviously cheap acrylic makes me sad. There are sheep and goats around here, you'd think they'd have some woolen goodies to wear. I guess all the good stuff gets exported. I've been working on a pair of fingerless gloves lately, because I forgot to bring some from home and I have a feeling I'll need them before too much longer. I'm a little bummed that I'm missing fall at home, but oh well. You can't have everything. I guess I'll just have to settle for spring when it rolls around.

In English teacher news, my students took their Unit 3 test today. This means that they'll probably get through 6 or 7 chapters total by the end of the semester, out of the 9 in the book. I guess that's not too bad, right? According to the veteran teachers, it's next to impossible to actually finish the book in the amount of time we have, so I'm not worrying too much about it. It looks like I'll be spending the evening grading.......

Oh yeah, don't send me any more stuff please. I am kicking around the idea of cutting my trip a little short and coming home earlier than originally planned... I don't want anything showing up here after I've left, because it'll be a real pain to get back! India's great, but I have things I want to work on at home. We also have had a big influx of teachers at Tibet Charity, so it's not like I'll be leaving them hanging if I take off a little early. I was actually the only teacher who was scheduled to be here the entire semester anyway, which I didn't realize until I got here; everyone else signed up for one to three month stints. I guess I'll see how the next couple of weeks go and go from there. Even if nothing changes, I'll be back in Chi-town on December 6th -- less than 2 months away!

Just because I think this post needs a picture:

This one's for my runner friends.

No, I didn't go. I didn't even bring my running shoes to India, which is probably for the best... the roads are really dirty here and I'd be really sad if I ruined the only comfortable pair of shoes I've ever owned (Reebok RealFlex for the win).

Catch you guys later!

Embrace your true nature

I love video games.

No, really. I love video games. I don't play as much as I used to, and even in the past I didn't play as much as some people I've known. Still, I've been realizing over the last few months just how big a role they've played in my life. Earlier today I rewarded myself for a very productive morning by watching a movie. As I like to do, I chose one I knew nothing about: Wreck It Ralph.

Come on, doesn't this movie look like SO MUCH FUN??

Somehow this animated gem had eluded my attention until it was sent to me on a jump drive as a possible movie to pass along to my students so they could practice their English listening skills. It's not my first choice as far as that, just because I think they might have some trouble with the content – not much frame of reference for monks and nomads when talking about arcade games – but you'd better believe I had a good time. I think it might be one of my new favorites. It's got everything I love: an underdog as the protagonist, pretty graphics, a fun soundtrack, clever storytelling, and lots and lots of nostalgia. Brilliant! This, combined with the fact that about a month ago I was struck with inspiration for a game-inspired business venture that I'd like to test when I get home, got me thinking:

For as much as I really do enjoy the raw simplicity of living here in India, in a place where animals freely roam the streets, where you do your laundry in a bucket, where the power goes out at least once a day and people just go about their lives..... the technical wonder that is the world of video games really does hold a special place in my heart. I love the adventure, the intrigue, the chance to be anyone... and I suppose yes, you could argue that I am actually doing those things right now, “IRL,” but I guess there's a part of me that is still enchanted by the shiny packaging no matter how hard I sometimes want to believe otherwise. I mean come on, I'm also a belly dancer; you can't deny a penchant for glitz & sparkle is part of that. I love to perform. I love beauty. I'm an artist, dammit, and the four right chords can make me cry. Life itself is beautiful, yes... but sometimes, as the late, great Dave Scheidecker helped me argue in my OO freshman year, we need art not just for art's sake but for ours.

I have historically gone through bouts of feeling like my only gift was an eye for art, and art is ultimately superfluous, and therefore I couldn't offer anything useful to the world. One person in particular took it upon himself to valiantly try to convince me otherwise some years back, but I always had my doubts that art really is genuinely important. Or rather, I feel like when other people do it it can be amazing and inspiring, but my own work somehow always falls short.

Then again, that's part of being an artist. You're always your own worst critic.

I think I may finally be ready to embrace that part of myself. I went to college for a degree in Game Art & Design and dropped out after I decided I didn't want to sit in front of a computer all day (and that it would take an ungodly amount of hours outside of class to develop enough skill to be truly great at my work). “Games,” I thought, “are frivolous. We don't need them. When the power goes out, what good have I done?” Art doesn't keep you warm, it doesn't feed you. It's not practical. I should learn to build something instead, or maybe I should learn something medical. I should apprentice and get a technical job, maybe learn to build solar panels or repair wind turbines. That stuff is useful. Right?

I've tried a variety of those things, and I keep coming back to art. Art is what makes me happy. Creation is where I feel at home. Finding beauty in the world and then finding a way to express it so everyone else can see it too is what makes me feel alive. I still don't particularly want to become a game developer (although since I've discovered Steam and since Steam has rolled out their Green Light initiative, I do consider it now and then), but I think if I can find a way to let games back into my every day life, into my own creativity, I might be better off. And you know what? Maybe it's true that games and art and dance and all the other beautiful, fun things in the world don't truly change anything, but if they make us happy for a while and you indulge responsibly – as with any other potentially addictive but otherwise harmless activity – is it really so useless? Someone has to bring beauty to those who can't find it themselves, and why shouldn't that someone be me?

I still have dreams of introducing a responsible waste disposal system to India, and of course I'd love to see freedom for Tibet... I enjoy teaching and knowing that I am directly affecting people's lives in a way that could truly change the course of their futures. Maybe I'll keep doing that too. I need art for my own happiness, though, and if the simple act of watching a well-done animated film about vintage arcade games can literally bring me to tears, if my mind wanders during a lecture and all I can think about for days afterward is an as-yet-secret-project that is also very directly related to game culture, if every so often I can't rest until I've drawn my own version of an NPC because I think the devs dropped the ball on making that one boss as terrifying as she should have been... and especially if something I do can also bring beauty and happiness to someone else, and especially if that someone else is willing to spend some cash to get it, then why shouldn't I? Why shouldn't I embrace my geekiness, embrace the fact that I'm a gamer kid at heart even if I don't actually spend many hours with a controller anymore, and see if I can make a living off of bringing joy to others like myself?

For some of us, games are not just a fun activity to do at parties with friends. They aren't (always) a waste of time. For some of us, games are a part of who we are. I've felt guilty about it and I've tried to deny it, but I've had some time for introspection since I've been here, away from everyone and everything I've ever known, and one of the things I've come to understand is that maybe it's just part of who I am. There has to be a balance, of course, but maybe the world of video games is not as superfluous and unnecessary as I was once convinced. Maybe it's a tool, a stepping stone on which to be inspired to create even more art and beauty and community. Maybe that's not such a bad thing.

My name is Magda Ksiazak, and I am a gamer. I'm an artist, a dreamer, and a creator. I'm through letting people, society, and my own self-consciousness tell me it's immature and something to hide, and I'm going to make it work for me. There is a whole community of us out there, and I think I'm ready to be proud to be a part of it.

Game on, my friends.

Good at words

Oh hai there, friends. It's been a decent few days, though not ones that are particularly remarkable. We went down to Lower Dharamsala again and swung in to a few fabric stores.

Note the stack of "monk burgundy" in the front.

I really wish we had lots of little fabric stores like this near home. There are a lot of bolts of synthetic material I'd probably never choose to use, but there is also an awful lot of really nice cotton. I'm tempted to buy a whole bunch of it and ship it home, though I'm not sure it would actually be any cheaper once transportation costs are figured in.

Oh! I found this! :D

I have no idea what the actual event is about, but "So Many Socks" is something this knitter wasn't about to simply ignore. Every so often I see Tibetan women knitting as they tend their street stalls. Usually they are using brightly colored acrylic, but once in a while I see one knitting something, socks perhaps, out of a nice subtly-colored wool. I always want to start a conversation but don't, because I don't have anything to show myself. I guess I could show them my tattoo and be like "See? I knit too!" Maybe one of these days I'll go for it.

In other news, another new teacher arrived today. We were on our way up to McLeod for a short tour when an incense box dropped from above us. It was a little unexpected and startling, and sure enough:

Monkeys.

The one started sauntering right for us, not menacingly but deliberately, and so we retreated a bit just in case. The last thing we wanted was a monkey bite. Rinzin had actually just told us that her sister had been bitten by a monkey earlier in the week, so it was fresh in my mind as a distinct possibility.

They lost interest within a few minutes, so we continued on our way.

At one of the shops in town I spotted these creepy mannequins:

I suppose the phrase "creepy mannequin" is redundant...

At one of the shops on Jogiwara Road, the Indian proprietor made a point of telling us that it was our store, not his, and that we should not feel pressured at all. "Come in any time, and take your time! Look at everything!" This was the same guy who responded to Verity's compliment that a shawl she tried on was very pretty with "It is not pretty, madam. You are pretty." Lol. I've gotta give him credit for being a pretty good salesman.

We circled through town and got back to Tibet Charity in time for dinner. Once a month they provide a nice dinner for all of us teachers as a way to say thank you for volunteering. Tonight's menu included, along with the usual rice, cauliflower cooked in a whole bunch of garlic, and delicious roasted potatoes. Yum! As someone who spent a considerable amount of time being a broke college kid, I have developed an appreciation for free meals.

The director, by the way, expressed considerable appreciation for the supplies that you guys have sent here. He was telling us that there is some red tape that makes it difficult for them to accept money from foreigners, so donations of actual stuff is often more useful. We may be looking to get more flash cards, puzzles, and other such materials.

In class, my students read an article today about Okinawa and how its people are some of the healthiest, longest-lived in the world. We were studying adverbs of frequency (always, usually, often, never, that sort of thing). It was another one of those days when I said "ok guys, take a few minutes and read this article, then we'll discuss it" and then I kept getting called over to define words that were new for them. I eventually decided that my strategy could use some rethinking and so I reined them all in, did a group vocab lesson, and we read through the article together. I think they get it, but sometimes they surprise me. Their homework for the weekend is to write a page comparing their home to Okinawa, and what are the similarities and differences?

Last night Brij, Marie, and I got together and played a Scrabble-esque game called Bananagrams. I'd heard about it in the past, but had never really played it. We came up with some good words, I think.

"Pristine," "mediators," and "dewclaw"... Yeah, we're good at words.

I think we may use these in class with the students sometime. I'm interested to see what kind of things they come up with.

New bukkits: living the high life in India

The other day my students took their Unit 2 test. It's always interesting to see how people score on exams; some of my best communicators in class don't do as well as I expect them to, and a few of the quietest, blend-in-to-the-crowd students do surprisingly well indeed. One thing I noticed was that even my strongest students had some trouble with the writing portion, in which they were asked to "write a short email to a new friend" and answer six simple questions, such as what is your name, how many siblings do you have, that sort of thing.

So I did what any concerned teacher would do and I devised an activity for them to practice their email-writing skills. I typed up an email from one fictitious person to another and filled it with punctuation and grammar errors. I tried to base it largely on the ones they've seen in class so as not to throw too much at them at once.

I have since been informed that I may have gone a little overboard. It's a tricky situation: they need to know how to do things like write emails (and sound intelligent), but their grasp of the English language is somewhat slippery, so I have to be careful not to do things like say "my town is called Springfield" and then tell them the whole thing should be in present simple tense, because a whole bunch of them got confused with "called" being a past tense form of a verb. Being a native speaker, I didn't even think of it at the time.

Oh, the surprises one gets when teaching!

It's not so bad, though. Today I had them compare notes, during which time I wrote the entire first paragraph on the board. Then I had them come up and one person correct each sentence, after which I asked the class if the corrections were, well, correct.

The best part, I think, was when a couple of them went back and forth reversing each other's corrections because there was some dispute over whether an apostrophe belonged in a particular word. One student went up and inserted the little flying comma, and another got right up and erased it, the entire class had a nice little giggle, and it was the perfect setup to discuss when we need to put apostrophes by the letter S.

I think I'm going to start doing something like that each class, and hopefully it'll get them used to sentence structure and everything. Does anyone from R-C remember "Daily Oral Language" from Mrs. McGann's class? Isn't that what it was called? I'm thinking I'll do that sort of thing and see how it goes. They seem to do well when they can check each other's work, but when it's up to each one of them individually they have some trouble. I really want to try to get them over that. The culture here is very community-oriented, and it comes out in the classroom. I dig that. It's a little tricky to get them not to help each other on tests, though.

In other news, I have a new trash can at my place!

A shiny new bukkit: I haz one!

I'll have to see if I can get them to do something about my electrics next...

Brij and I were a little excited about the new additions in our hallway this morning. We think it may have had something to do with our telling the guys who run the place that if they want westerners to stay there, as they claim they do, then they should make a little more effort to get the place up to something resembling a western standard of living. Seriously, guys. You could at least replace the shower head that's missing in the one room, and scrub the walls for god's sake. I had to do the walls thing on my own, and if you recall, I also went through a couple hours and half a (rather large) package of butt wipes to scrub down all the trim and the headboard. I'm not sure if I mentioned it, but about a week before I moved in I asked them to make sure the room was cleaned before I got there. To be fair, the floor was all sparkly and still even a little wet. Really, though. You could make some effort to make the other surfaces presentable.

That said, I really do like my room. It's small but not too cramped; it's sufficiently "Indian" without being so ghetto I count the days until my flight home. In the immortal words of Goldilocks, it's juuuust right.

I am, however, a little concerned about the temperature situation. My room most definitely does not have heat, and the nights have been getting chilly already. I'm thinking I may have to stock up on blankets in the coming months.

-- For those of you who are curious, my typical morning goes something like this:
Awake to music from Suikoden for my alarm, around 7:30. Congratulate myself on having the foresight to download this ringtone before I left home.
Get up, put on flip flops. The floor is made of tile and is always, always cold. Go into the bathroom and turn on the water heater.
Fill up kettle, turn on. Make sure everything else in the room is switched off because otherwise the breaker trips.
If/when the breaker trips anyway, muscle open the door to the hallway (it sticks) and flip the switch. Repeat until it stays.
Once water in kettle is boiling, make oatmeal and stir in homemade peanut butter I bought from some Tibetans at the temple a few weeks ago. Add dried fruit and nuts or fresh bananas as available.
Eat breakfast, drink some boiled (clean) water, wash dishes in the bathroom sink.
Take a shower. Turn the water off often so as to conserve the precious hot variety; the tank is pretty small.
Flip off the water heater.
Get dressed, turn on wall outlet to charge my phone/laptop/Nook/whatever. Prioritize wisely, because there is only one outlet in the room.
Fill up large bucket in bathroom with water and some powdered laundry detergent. Put dirty clothes in to soak.
Lesson plan or read one of the handful of books I have going at any given time. (Currently working on: God Against the Gods, Koran Curious: A Guide for Infidels and Believers, and They Do It With Mirrors. I recently finished The Seven Daughters of Eve and one night I knocked out Metamorphosis. I recommend all of 'em. Lon, I think The Night Circus is going to be next on the list.)
Brush my teeth with purified water, then scrub the laundry that's been soaking. Dump the soapy water in the sink, refill the bucket with clear water, and rinse. Repeat as necessary. Wring everything out as much as possible and then hang it out on one of the clotheslines on the balcony or drape it over the side in the sun. Hope all my laundry doesn't fall on the filthy ground while I'm not looking.
Collect my stuff, triple check to make sure I have my keys, and head to class sometime between 10 and 10:30 if it's a weekday. Otherwise I keep my balcony door open so I can holler down to Marie and Gill to see if they want to go do anything in town together.

Today the after-school excitement was a street market down past the main square.

Lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of food.

They even had carnival rides. They were old, dirty, creepy carnival rides, but carnival rides all the same. I did not ride them.

On my way there I ran into a few of my students, all of whom cheerfully engaged me in conversation. I also stopped in to the post office to send off a small birthday package; thankfully the experience went much more smoothly than last time. I had to lick oldschool stamps. I can't remember the last time I even saw stamps that required licking.

For now, I'm going to go study my Hindi, so to quote the picture Casey so thoughtfully left on my FB page earlier today......

Namaste, bitches. ;)

New Friends All Around

This morning I woke up in my new room and decided it was cozy. I did some laundry because it was gloriously sunny outside; I think the monsoon season is in fact on its way out. This is exciting news indeed -- the promise of dry clothing and bedding is near!



My new residence, Pause Dwelling, has these great big communal balconies on each floor that also have clotheslines that we can use. Since Brij and I are currently the only occupants on the 3rd floor, we get to spread out basically as much as we'll allow each other. This is especially fantastic because I am still trying to get out of the mindset of not doing laundry until I have a full load -- a great idea back home so I save water, but completely irrelevant here since washing machines exist only at the fanciest of laundry service places, and it's much cheaper to buy some powdered detergent and use the bucket that's provided with the room -- and so at any given time I've got a fair amount of clothing that needs to be cleaned. I managed to wash a few of my favorite items and find spots for them in the sun. As I was doing this Ricky, one of the guys who seems to be in charge around here, told me that we still needed to do my check-in paperwork and could I bring a copy of my passport sometime soon, please?



I told him I'd see if I had one in my room, as I had made a few copies earlier in the trip because I was informed by others who had traveled abroad that this would be a good idea (thanks, Jillian and Cory). Sure enough I had one and so I followed Ricky downstairs to the office where he took out a huge ledger and invited me to have a seat at the nearby padded bench. I had forgotten that everything in India takes a while; it's not just a matter of "let me look at your license, how will you be paying for that? *click click click* Here's your room key" like it is in the US. In India things are done by hand. Here it isn't uncommon for shop proprietors and the like to invite their customers to have a seat, and I've found that it's usually a good idea to take them up on the offer because it's their way of telling you you'll be there a while.



Ricky, an Indian guy who looks to be more or less my age, set to writing my information in the book. After a while one of the older men who works here came out and offered me some tea -- it's all called "chai" here, and none of it tastes like the chai we have in the States; I'm pretty sure it's black tea with milk and sugar in it -- which I accepted since by this point I'd been hanging around for a good fifteen minutes longer than I'd anticipated and I figured why not? Ricky finished getting me in the system, as it were, and asked me about home. Do I have family in the United States? Yes, my parents and one sister. Do I live with them? I live with my dad. Is my sister older or younger? She's a few years younger. She lives with her boyfriend... actually, her fiance, they're getting married.



This led to a discussion about weddings in which we found that people tend to spend an awful lot of money on them both in the US and in India, but in India everything is of course cheaper by default. He suggested with a wry smile that maybe they should have their wedding in India to save some money -- nevermind the fact that plane tickets are not cheap by any means. (But hey Lon and Dan, maybe it's worth looking into...?) ;)



He asked me if Obama was popular in the United States and I told him what I have objectively noticed, that his popularity has been falling the last few years. We talked about how politics in general doesn't benefit the average person and how we'd just as soon have nothing to do with it. I told him how life is not easy in the US even though the standard of living is very high. He told me that in India there are many people who don't have much, but they also don't owe much. It's not like in the west where there is always someone -- a bank, the government -- coming after you for money. He told me that people who live in villages don't have as much access to education, for example, but they also are largely farmers and craftsmen who support themselves and each other, and they don't need to rely on the government for as much. This in and of itself appeals to me. Obviously there are drawbacks to this lifestyle, such as the relinquishment of certain comforts and luxuries (like education, unless you find a way to tackle that point), but it's certainly something that might be worth considering.



An hour and a cup of chai later, and after a cheerful promise to trade English practice for Hindi lessons, I told Ricky I was going to let him get to his work and I'd hit up the ATM so I could pay him for the room. "It's no problem," he said in the easy way that most Indians tend to. No one ever seems to be in a rush here. He had asked if I'd been to Dharamkot for pizza yet; I have not, but everyone keeps telling me I have to go because it's amazing. When I suggested that we go sometime he asked my schedule; when I asked for his to see what times might coincide he smiled and said that he could go pretty much whenever. Around here if you want to leave for a while you leave for a while, as long as there is someone to cover for you. It's not like other places where you must stay at your post until your shift is over, there is no one micromanaging, and as long as everything gets done, everyone is happy. It's much more laid back, according to him, and I must say that my observations support this.



Thankfully, Brij was home when it started to rain early this afternoon, and he moved my laundry to a dry area since I wasn't back yet. Later, as I sat here on the balcony enjoying the rain, typing up this post, Ricky happened by and struck up a conversation, and then offered me tea. I already feel like I'm becoming part of a small community in my new Dwelling. I think I'm going to enjoy living here.

I went out for lunch today and ran into a few friends: Tashi, Tashi, Alexandra from London, Rico from Colorado, Sonam, and Sertso; you might remember them from sushi a few posts back. Tashi the monk mentioned that there was going to be a show of traditional Tibetan song, dance, and drama at TIPA tonight, the Tibetan Institute for the Performing Arts. The Tashis, Alex, and I were the only ones who wound up going.



It was pretty awesome.



The dances involved a lot of stomping, brightly colored costumes, and cool hats, and the content revolved largely around the everyday lives of the average Tibetan: farming. One dance even had people dressed up in yak costumes. The guy sitting next to me asked if I could understand the Tibetan. Of course I said no, but I was enjoying it anyway. He proceeded to translate much of the rest of the show for me, which was a big help during the two acting pieces at the end. They both revolved around the prompt “the importance of preserving the Tibetan language.”



The first was a drama that included a surprisingly convincing depiction of both a fight between Chinese police and students, and later a self-immolation.



The second was a comedy that opened with a great scene of modern McLeod Ganj. I felt like an insider since I actually recognized what was going on even if I couldn't understand the language.



Now we're sitting back at the Clay Oven where Alex couldn't believe they were actually playing Blink-182. I informed her of the amazing music selection this place has, and now we are having some cheesecake, and Diamonds by Rihanna is on the radio and I really, really wish I had a hula hoop.

Request at the Green Hotel

I seem to have made my way into this sort of limbo zone where I feel like I don't have much to write about for a day or two, and then when I say “Oh shit, I have to post a blog” I feel like so much has happened, but I can't seem to recall any of it.

I'll do my best.

Oh right, I did this.

I've been teaching around 5 hours a day. New students pop up all the time; Julie and I are supposed to start teaching a nun and her sister English in exchange for Tibetan lessons. Palsang had some things come up so he hasn't been as consistent a student lately, but he wants to get back into it.

Earlier tonight I got asked to do some slightly different work for a somewhat different client. The story goes like this:

I got out of classes at 3pm. My conversation students told me about what they did over the weekend and as we went through their accounts, they asked “what's the word for...?” and this way we got a list of new vocabulary for them to practice, which includes improvise, puddle, splash, and shelter. Their assignment was to think of another story to tell that included at least one of the new words.

Afterward I headed over to the Green Hotel & Restaurant, one of our favorite hangouts in McLeod Ganj. They've got a pretty decent vegetarian menu and equally decent wifi. In fact, it's the only place I've found so far that can support a video conversation on Skype. This is important. Skype is our friend.

Even so, the internet in India is not what I'm used to at home. It isn't uncommon to have to reconnect a few times within a conversation (as some of you are aware). It's still the most reliable place though, so I plopped myself down at a table facing the windows and fired up my laptop.

At some point during my conversation with my mom, I noticed a smallish Tibetan woman hovering near me. I smiled at her and realized that she was familiar: there is this Caucasian man who lives in McLeod Ganj that we see from time to time, and she is his caretaker. This man must be in at least his 70s, and it's clear that his health is deteriorating. I see him in the Green Cafe and around town in his Hawaiian-style shirts and his Irish cap, always with his Tibetan caretaker helping him sit, stand, eat, and do everything else. I've heard that he's a bit of a fixture around town, and they usually seem to sit at one particular table when in this restaurant. I asked if she wanted me to move. Apologetically, she said that yes, if I wouldn't mind, they would appreciate it.

The old man, who had been waiting somewhat unsteadily in the background, thanked me as I passed him on my way to the next table. I smiled and told him it was no problem.

After a little while Palsang had joined me and I finished my Skyping. I was talking with The Monk, as he's often called in our little circle, and I realized the Tibetan woman was again hovering near me. “He'd like to speak with you,” she said as she motioned to the hunched, bearded man now occupying the seat I'd been in.

I was a little surprised. I sat down on the seat facing him and leaned in, and said hello. “Hello,” he said in a weak but articulate voice, “I'm from the United States.”

“So am I,” I told him.

“I'm from New York City,” he told me.

“Ah, nice! I'm from Chicago.”

“Oh, the Windy City!”

I laughed. I agreed and introduced myself. He told me his name but I admit I'm not 100% sure I heard him correctly, so I'll find out the next time I see him. I shook his arthritic, clawlike hand and he explained “I'm disabled, and I can't use my hands very well. I can't write anymore.” I nodded in sympathy. “Could you help me write something?”

Again, I was surprised. Why me? There are plenty of other nice-looking westerners in town, lots of white girls who speak English. Was it simply because I gave up my seat for someone who clearly was more in need of it that he decided he'd trust me? Or maybe it's just that he figured I was nice enough to do something else for someone I didn't know. It doesn't really matter. I explained to him that I had to get going, but if he was going to be there in the next night or two I could meet him and of course I'd be willing to help him out.

That's why tomorrow evening I'm meeting one of the many disadvantaged locals of McLeod Ganj and doing what little I can to help him out. If all I have to do is take my laptop and write a few emails for an elderly gentleman in failing health, for whom it looks like just getting to the other side of the room requires a Herculean effort, then I'm more than willing to give up a couple hours of my evening. Maybe I'll even make a friend or two out of it. I've always been drawn to older people. I think they're interesting. For as long as I can remember, I've preferred to hang around people older than myself. I think they tend to have the best stories; this man from NYC who somehow wound up in Dharamsala, India, for the end of his life ought to have some good stories to tell.

Dear Teachers,

Teachers, I am beginning to understand.

I won't say that "I do understand," because I'm sure I don't. I've been at this a couple of weeks now, but I won't claim to have joined the ranks of you who have been doing this for years. But I am starting to get it.

I am beginning to understand what you mean when you say that you work long hours, not just the hours you physically spend in the classroom. I am beginning to understand spending your own money so your students can benefit from better lessons. I am beginning to understand the responsibility you feel for your students, and the desire to see each of them succeed in the classroom, and outside of it.

I am in India, teaching English to refugees from Tibet. Their native languages (some students are from Bhutan, Thailand, and other areas in the region) are very different from English, and so they often have a difficult time with some pronunciations and vocabulary, not to mention the grammar. English is not a tonal language; theirs are. There is no "th" sound in their languages; it's pretty common in English.

Add to this the fact that I'm an American teaching from a British book, and it gets a little confusing.

What's even worse, though, is the fact that the book is not only written in a western country, it's written for western students. The other day we had a lesson in the book called "Practical English: On a Plane." I got smart and asked "Who here has been on a plane?" I was met with blank stares. A few of them shook their heads. So first I had to explain how it works: flight attendants and in-flight drinks and such. Today we had a reading about things that are "Typically British." I had to explain the following terms, because none of my students was familiar with them: pub, cappuccino, espresso, au pair, zebra crossing (a crosswalk), beer, Burger King, and "fish fingers."

So now I'm thinking.. yes, my students should learn what all of these things are. It will make them more well-rounded and able to relate to people in western cultures. But really? I think at this level the cultural gap just makes the lessons that much harder to understand.

We had our Unit 1 test in my Elementary level class on Wednesday. I had a few students (monks, as it happens) who did particularly well -- upward of 96%. I think they've studied English before. It was an eye-opener for me too, because I didn't realize I had to explain what "true and false" meant. I have been writing names on the board because most of the names in the book are ones you don't find here: my students are all named Lobsang or Tenzin or Lhamo or Tashi or Tsering; in the book the names are Marta and Marco and James and Allie and Alessandra. I don't think there's anything wrong with giving them "Marta = woman, Marco = man" on the board at the front, because if they respond with the wrong pronoun simply because they have no idea whether the name is male or female, that doesn't test their understanding of the English language. It was pretty funny how many filled the blank in "Is Magda Polish? Yes, _____ is" with the word "he."

Really, guys? Lol. Of all the western names in your book, I'd hope you'd know that one. And no, I didn't write the test; that's just the one that came with the materials.

I need to find some materials that are geared more toward an Asian classroom. If I can't find any, I might need to make some.

So Teachers, I am beginning to understand. The best of you really do give so much for your classes. I'm only teaching 2-3 classes a day, 4-5 hours total, and I'm feeling it. I can only imagine what it must be like for a new full-time teacher who is just building a stockpile of lesson plans and class projects.

We aren't supposed to make copies except of test materials; there is a sign above the copier reminding us that "all other copies are 2 rupees per page." I've been recommended to collect 20 rupees or so from each of my students to go toward the cost of copying whatever else I deem necessary, but I'm hesitant. Sure, 20 rupees isn't much. It isn't much for me, anyway. Maybe I'll do it and call it close enough, even if I go over it by the end of the semester. I just want them to learn. The book is good, I'm sure, for other students. For mine, though, it's not quite cutting it. I feel like I need to supplement. I want to go online and find articles, flip through books and find passages to use. For the most part, their understanding of grammar is pretty good, and their vocab is pretty impressive. Their reading comprehension is not so hot, though (generally speaking; of course there are exceptions). How are they supposed to improve their English, though, when they are reading selections that they wouldn't even understand the meaning of in their native languages? How can they focus on the language when there is so much else to process, to distract them?

Most of them are eager to learn, though, and sometimes they ask a lot of questions. Whenever we introduce new vocabulary they always ask for more words. We did body parts the other day and they kept asking "What's this? What's this?" pointing to moles and elbows and fingernails that weren't on the list in the book. I have had a couple of students come to me after class and explain to me that they won't be in class for a couple of weeks, usually because they have to go on a trip somewhere. They're not like vacations, they're like "my sister just had a baby and so I have to take over running her shop" or "I need medical care and it's somewhere that will involve me being gone for about 15 days" -- I just had a student come in and tell me that as I sat here typing this entry. I wished him well and told him to study so he wasn't behind when he got back, and he smiled and bowed a bunch of times and thanked me. I mean really, what else can I say? No, you can't go?

I also had to explain to the class on Wednesday that I expect them to do their assignments not because I'm trying to make more work for them, but because I want them to improve. I want them to learn, and learning takes practice. Sure enough, the half of the class that didn't have their assignments in on time handed them to me today. I'm determined to get these students to a point where they can understand and be understood, and I've only got a few months to do it in.

I think I've got my work cut out for me. I better go find some articles.

To hold you over until the next entry, here are some photos.

Old Monk rum, eh? I've never heard of it, but there are an awful lot of monks here, so why not?

Spices and hot peppers for sale.

Veggie burger where you can really see the veggies.

The tailoring shop where we bought fabric to have some pretty Indian outfits custom made. Total price for two full, elaborate salwar kameez? About $30.

The buses and trains here all have sections reserved for women.

Julie getting ready to eat some batura (sp?) and channa (chickpeas and spices) -- yum!

Joe and Steve, I saw this and thought of you guys. Obviously.

Bhagsu is still dirty, but at least they're trying.

This tattoo shop doesn't look sketchy at all!

Preeeeeeeeeeeetty... Bhagsu waterfall.

I feel like I'm on my way to Whiterun...