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?

Rooftop Yoga

Sometimes when I wake in the middle of the night it takes me a minute to remember where I am. A faint illumination filters in through the window above the balcony door and reflects gently off some of the more prominent features in the room. This morning I woke to just such a scene. I lay there contemplating, trying to mentally crawl out of whatever dream land I'd just been in, for a minute before I remembered: oh yeah, India.

My own place... in India.

I decided that I really do like my room. It lacks some of the comforts of home, but for now, at least, it's ideal. (Close to ideal... I wouldn't mind if it got a little more sunlight.)

This made me happy. I checked my phone and, after finding that it wasn't even 5am yet, rolled back over and promptly passed back out. A few hours later I woke to a considerably brighter room and decided it looked like a good day for yoga.

I threw on some clothes, grabbed my mat and my keys, and scampered up to the roof. I'd been wanting to do yoga on the roof here since I first looked at the place.

And so today I did yoga, on the roof, in the Indian morning sunlight. It was every bit as glorious as it sounds.

Despite the fact that exercise invigorates you for the rest of the day, I've always had a tough time getting up early enough to work out before work or school. The fact that I don't have to teach until 11 is working wonders for my ability to finally make this happen. Add to that the fact that the weather was absolutely perfect – low 70s, just a bit breezy, and without a cloud in the sky – and I felt on top of the world.

The fact that I am literally on a mountain probably didn't hurt, either. You can see so far away from up here. It's amazing.

When I returned to my room I flipped on the water heater so I could get a decent shower and did some push ups; my legs get a constant workout whether I like it or not living here, so I figure it'd be in my interest to make sure my upper body gets some attention, too. Speaking of my upper body getting some attention, I had a couple of people ask me about my tattoo today. It was strange, because I often wear short sleeves and I know they've seen it before. Regardless, it led to some new conversation with my students who are always looking to learn about new topics. Yay body art!

I think I am going to acquire a nice set of maps so we can have visual aids for when we discuss the places of the world. They want to see photos from my home. I don't think most of them can comprehend the phrase “my home in the United States is very flat.” The mountains of Himachal are a far cry from the fields of Illinois, that's for sure. They also asked about deserts today, and which country is the biggest in the world, and what's the difference between Austria and Australia? See, I need some maps. The acquisition of such things is the homework I assigned myself for the evening.

Recently I find myself considering the differences between life in the suburban Midwest and life in northern India. I've begun to realize how little you really need in order to have a pretty decent life. In the US we are always so concerned about appearances and having everything be fresh and shiny and new; here, all but the most upscale of establishments have wiggly faucets, most people seem to wear the same four or so outfits again and again, and if something breaks you just patch it up the best you can and hope it lasts a while longer. The size of your personal bubble is much smaller here. You have to develop a tolerance for – or at least the ability to tune out – all the various sounds the human body is inclined to make, especially on a diet of rice and dal in a very dirty environment. (That godawful haucking noise, though... that is one thing I will not miss when I leave India. Ugh. Have a little tact, people.) There's no deodorant anywhere either, but I have a much easier time dealing with that; it's not that hot, so it's not a big deal. Constantly listening to every other person near you hack and cough and spit, on the other hand, gets really old, really fast.

You have to learn to tolerate being very close to all kinds of people. You learn to understand that you will be touched, you will be bumped into, you will probably be splashed by cars on the road because there are no sidewalks to speak of, and you will have to get used to the incessant honking of horns, and taxis, motorbikes, and autorickshaws passing within fractions of an inch of your person. That's just how it goes here. If you let it get to you, you are going to have a very unhappy stay.

I've decided to just roll with it as much as possible. I came in treating this whole experience as an adventure, and let me tell you, I think that has saved my sanity more than a few times. “It's India,” I remind myself. Whatever that means. It works, though. I remind myself that there are however many millions – over a billion, maybe? – people living here that do this every day, and it doesn't seem to faze most of them. It's just life. It's raw, dirty, un-sugar-coated, honest-to-goodness life, and as much as a pain in the ass it may be from time to time, as uncomfortable it can be, and as much as some days I really, really just want a hot tub or dry sheets or for god's sake a decent salad, I am thrilled to be a part of it.

You learn to delight in the small things, like this deliciously juicy kiwi.

It continues to interest and inspire me also that so many of these people seem happy. The Tibetans especially: despite decades of oppression and exile, through innumerable, ongoing human rights violations in their homeland, they are a surprisingly good-natured people. Many of them seem to be pacifists – all they want is peace so they can return to their homes. Many of my students in particular are very eager to learn as much as they can and to improve their English as much as possible. They recognize that English is the international language and that if they acquire a decent level of proficiency in it they will exponentially increase their options as far as career, education, and travel. Perhaps it's because they don't have much to begin with, and perhaps it's because many of them are monks and nuns, but they seem largely uninterested in material gain; they just want a decent education. It's so different from the mentality in the west, where we want an education, sure, but it's only so we can make a bunch of money and buy a big house and pay off all the loans we've no doubt taken out to acquire said education.

When I first graduated high school I felt I was pushed into going off to college. I was smart, went the reasoning, so naturally “real college” was my next step. I wasn't ready for it. I was miserable, and I moved home after one semester. I just needed time. Look at me now: my first time outside my home country and I picked India of all places! That's how I seem to do things, though – think about a situation until I can't take it any more and then do something drastic. I'm not sure that's a good trait, but there you have it. In this case, I think it's all working out just fine. There is so much more to the world than a cubicle and a mortgage, and I've only just started to explore it.

If you are into the cubicle-and-mortgage thing that's cool, it's just not for me. I much prefer the unconventional, even if it's not as cushy and comfortable all the time. What's that saying? Oh yeah: pain lets you know you're alive. I'm not saying I want "pain," per se, but experiencing a bit of hardship now and then helps keep the balance. We all love to be pampered, but without a little difficulty from time to time we get soft and depressed, and that's no fun for anyone. I've had almost 30 years of relative comfort; it's funny how too much of a good thing can be just as detrimental as not enough, isn't it? I knew I needed some perspective, so I got my proverbial ducks in a row and made it happen. Was I scared? Of course I was. But I wanted to be scared. I wanted that rush. I wanted to feel like anything could happen, good or bad. I knew that if I just stayed home and hung out in Chicagoland I'd always wish I'd taken a chance and gone somewhere new. 

I'll admit I'm just a little bit proud of myself for finally being decisive about something big.

Adventure, ho! (The dogs seem unimpressed.)

HH Rolls Into Town

I'm sitting in a cafe drinking Tibetan herbal tea, waiting for 4pm so I can check out another of the local yoga classes. It's raining outside; I suppose it is still monsoon season, so I shouldn't be too surprised that the sunshine this morning was short-lived.

My Pre-Intermediate class took their first test of the semester yesterday morning. Class begins at 9am and typically ends between 10:30 and 10:45 so I can get ready for my other class at 11, but for tests I think they ought to get to use the entire 2 hours if they need it.

We went over the homework from the previous night and I asked if they had any questions before we started the test. After having a minute to think about it and telling me they didn't, I explained to them that there were two parts to the test, and that when they had finished both they were free to go. “Don't be scared!” I told the room full of deer-in-headlights faces. Some of them laughed sheepishly and I handed out the tests.

At about 9:45 I heard sirens outside. This went on for maybe 30 seconds and the students started looking at each other and whispering. I must have gotten a teacher-y look on my face, because one of them smiled shyly, put her hands in prayer position, and said to me “Dalai Lama is here.”

They quieted down pretty quickly and worked on their tests. I've only graded the first of three pages (one is double-sided), but so far the grades seem to be decent. I wound up marking three questions as extra credit and another one I just threw out altogether, because even I wasn't sure what answer they were looking for. I changed the reading part of the test to a text they'd worked on the other day because they struggled with it so much more than I expected; again, the cultural barrier is just so dense, so tall, so deep sometimes that I didn't want to stress them out any more than necessary. I did change the questions from the ones they'd seen the first time they read the passage; I figured that would test both their ability to comprehend a short article and whether they paid attention in class when we broke it down together.

Occasionally a student would catch my eye and whisper “Teacher...” and ask me what a word meant or for a better explanation of the instructions. One of my students nodded and let out the Tibetan equivalent of “oh, ok” – “acha cha” – that I have come to recognize, first in Palsang and then in others. It's fun to see how cultural norms differ in even the most mundane, automatic of ways. For them it's just something they do; for me it's still a little funny.

When I first started teaching here I tried to get through a lesson (as they were planned out in the textbook) every day. By the end of the first week I'd talked to a couple of more experienced teachers and observed in my classes that this wasn't likely to last very long. Lately I've slowed way down, covering about half to three-quarters of a lesson each day, depending on the subject matter and how the students seem to be responding to it. Some days we get off on tangents, with them asking about some aspect of the material, often a new vocabulary word or concept, and then the discussion spirals from there. I figure they're still learning and using English, and I'm not particularly in the habit of following rules just because they're there (I consider myself sort of a chaotic good, or maybe neutral, alignment), so I don't mind getting off the book's topic as long as I feel like we're on to a suitable new one. This is especially true considering the fact that I think much of the book's content is not appropriate for students like mine; not only do they have to learn the words for cappuccino, online dating, or “neighbors from hell,” they have to learn the entire concepts. My students had no idea what sushi was. Most of them have never been on a plane. The roads here don't have intersections or crosswalks, and these are the things that the book assumes are familiar to everyone.

It just doesn't work here.

Regardless, their tests have been turned in and I told them there's no homework for the weekend, so they can just relax and go to the teachings and do whatever without worrying about school. They seemed to appreciate that.

After classes Julie and I did a little apartment (hotel room) shopping, and eventually wound up meeting a bunch of her students who have also become friends. Most of them are Bhutanese, with at least one Nepali in the mix. So tonight I met Tashi, Sonam, Sertso, Rigsel, Tashi, and Rangdol. By the end of the night Rangdol, Rigsel, and Sertso were asking me all about the States. Sonam was amazed that it would take a few days to cross the country by car. They were incredibly intrigued to learn that there isn't just one “American accent,” and my stories of the ridiculous amounts of snow that Chicago received a few years ago had them absolutely fascinated.

I thought it was really funny. Here I am, in India, this exotic country, and the people here are so thrilled to learn about the distant, strange land of the USA. They were really sweet. You know how a lot of times it takes a person a while to warm up to someone new? They didn't seem to have much trouble with it; by the end of the night they had each seemed to effortlessly find a way to talk to me and, as far as I could tell, they really wanted to. I got a really good vibe from the whole evening.... which was probably facilitated by the fact that we got dinner at a Japanese restaurant that made damn good miso soup and veggie sushi. I wasn't quite to the point where I was craving sushi just yet, but it's nice to know I can get a fix if I need it. I wouldn't trust raw seafood here, in the north of India, but I think cucumbers and cabbage and that sort of thing is probably ok.

New friends and sushi! <3

I've also been befriending the stray dogs around town a few at a time. We already have some that follow us when we are near; I figure it can't be a bad thing to have a guard dog wherever you are. They just sort of pass us off to each other as we move through the different areas, especially at night when we're on our way home. It's like they can sense that I want to show them attention. I don't approach them, I let them come to me. For the most part you walk through town and the dogs (there are dozens) just sort of hang out and do their own thing, but so many times I can see in their eyes that they just want a little bit of attention. Most people ignore them; the dogs get fed, I guess, and it's rare that I see anyone behave negatively toward them. If I may be so nerdy, I find myself thinking “I see you,” like in Avatar, because that's just what seems to be appropriate. I see that they're there, and that they're living beings just the same as any of the people, and that just like everyone else here they're just trying to survive. Everyone needs a little love now and then. 

Some mornings we wake up to find Tashi guarding our room.

Paula hangs out at Tibet Charity and looooooooooves attention.

Black & brown doggles, just chillin', as they tend to do here.

 

Universal Yoga

I do yoga once in a while. Julie says she has done yoga basically every day for the last year. We are in India. If one is going to do yoga, this is the place to do it.

Yesterday, two weeks in to our stay here, we finally made it to a yoga class. Julie and Kalden found it; a little studio called Universal Yoga that involves following a series of handwritten signs down a few flights of steps and through a dark hallway or two into a seedy-looking residential building. If I had been in the US in a place like this, I would have turned around and gone home. But this is India. It's just the way places look here.

We got there a little early and there was a Vinyasa class still in session. We were asked to remove our shoes outside the studio room, and then we were allowed to sit quietly while the other class finished up, since there was no electricity in the hallway outside and it was a little dark and scary.

The Vinyasa class was taught by a tall, dark yogi who spoke as though he, too, was right from the States. He seemed like a good teacher, but I admit I was a little bit disappointed; where were the Indian yogis? Seriously, I travel to the other side of the globe and attend a yoga class in the country that invented the practice, and I find an American instructor?

Their class ended and the students for the next class started trickling in. Julie and I rolled out our mats near the front of the room; it was a good thing we got there early, because we ran out of space. There must have been about 15 or 20 of us; there were a few people who couldn't fit their mats into the room and didn't get to do the class.

A lanky, dark Indian man who looked to be in his mid-twenties took a spot at one of the mats at the front of the room and started leading us in a warm-up. It took me a few minutes, but I eventually decided that his very unexpected, just-thick-enough-to-be-distracting accent was Scottish. It was... well ok, it was just plain weird. Kind of cool, though, too.

He finished with the warm-up and a different instructor stepped in. Let me tell you, THIS guy was the sort of person you'd expect to find teaching yoga in India. Super thin and all muscle, you could tell he'd been doing this for a while. Periodically he would instruct us to do “comfortable Vinyasa” -- which Julie later informed me means a sequence of moves that involves being up, down, and eventually coming to rest – and he himself would do this elaborate series of handstands and the splits and other such feats of balance and strength, and all I could think was “I'm in India... doing yoga... with Dhalsim from Street Fighter.”

Accurate representation of my first yoga instructor in India.

There were a handful of young (in their 20s) Indians assisting in the class, adjusting us students when we weren't doing an asana quite correctly. They had clearly been doing this for some time, because they nudged just enough to put you in the right spot and then deftly moved down the line to the next students.

At the end of class, during the relaxation period, Dhalsim began chanting in this slow, deliberate way that reverberated through the room and my body, and it really was extremely relaxing. I've never been to a yoga class where that was done before. It became so easy to really let go of the distractions and chill for a while. When we came out of Shavasana, he bowed to each of us in turn and thanked us for coming to class.

I dunno, I thought it was pretty cool. Apparently it's one of the best yoga studios in the area as far as cost/quality ratio.

On our way out we met Rico, one of the many hipster-ish Caucasians in the class. Almost everyone there was western, or at least they looked western. Tattooed, unshaven, and muscular, Rico had the look of a wanderer, which he later confirmed in his answer to my question of where he was from (“I don't even know anymore. I spent a while in Boulder...”). He seemed like a nice enough guy. He and Julie discussed tattoos for a bit, he asked what we were doing in Dharamsala, and he invited us out for dinner. We declined because we already had plans, but told him we'd be at the Green Hotel tomorrow afternoon giving English lessons to our monk friend, Palsang. I'll also be Skyping with my parents and hopefully my sister. We'll see if our new yoga buddy shows up.

In other news, a few of you have been asking what you can send me to make my stay in India more homey. I have begun compiling a list, though I want to stress that NONE OF THIS IS NECESSARY – we are surviving just fine (and more or less comfortably, really) on what we can get here. These are simply things that would be nice to have, should you feel the urge to send them our way:

Protein bars. I like Lara bars, especially the chocolate and/or peanut butter ones (obviously). Some Luna bars are good too (Nutz Over Chocolate... I'm sensing a theme here...). If you find a different brand I'm down for trying something new, please just make sure it doesn't have any high-fructose corn syrup in it. Some of 'em will surprise you, like GeniSoy. :(

Oskri also makes delicious coconut bars... they come in a few different flavors, all of which are great, and look like this:

I would like to have more of these plzthx.

Dried papaya, pineapple, and/or apples. In that order.

Seeds, like pumpkin or sunflower seeds. Nuts are easy to find here but I don't see many seeds. They make for good snackletons.

Licorice. Panda makes “sticks” that would be perfect. Any flavor is welcome, but especially the regular black kind.

Turkey, veg, or ostrich jerky (pepper Ostrim is pretty tasty). I can't remember what the turkey jerky I had on the plane was, but I got it at Fruitful Yield in Joliet and it comes in packs of 2 sticks. I think it was on the top shelf.

Good Q-tips. Here I've only seen the crappy ones that have hardly any cotton on the ends and cause you to always poke the inside if your ears up. You have to take small victories where you can get them.

GameBoy Advance games. I brought my system and three games: the original Super Mario Bros, Phantasy Star Collection (which includes I, II, and III), and Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town. Some Zelda would be cool, or Phantasy Star IV. Or whatever else, we'll take it all. Don't spend a lot of $$ on 'em, though.. only send them if a) they are mine to begin with (lol... this means you, Dad and Lonnie), b) they are yours and you won't play them anyway, or c) you get them super cheap, like on eBay or at a garage sale.

Drawing pencils, chalk pastels, or charcoal. I have access to sketchbooks.

Those small packages of Kleenex, the travel size ones that have like 20 in each thing. I found a 3-pack at Target for a couple bucks (at home... there are no Targets here).

A size 3 circular knitting needle, preferably 40” long but I can work with shorter if I need to. I'm already roughing it so I would even appreciate a 16” metal circular, or DPNs... Lindsey and Casey will probably be the only ones who (might) get the humor in this; it's hilarious, I promise. (Seriously though, wooden 29” or 36” would be awesome. Knit Picks will hook you up.)

Photos of you! Facebook is slow here, so send me a couple of real photos for me to decorate my room. I brought a small collection with me but I can always use more.

Flash cards or greeting cards that have art on them. The Art Institute usually sells sets of them, and I'm sure Amazon does, too. They are good for passing out to students and having them describe the painting/picture/photo to each other.

Books of exercises for ESL classes. I can't remember the titles of any of them off the top of my head (and the internet is too slow to do a good search), but look for ones involving phrases like “5-minute warm-ups.”

A USB stick filled with movies that use simple English. It's good for students to have a variety of sources to listen to. Specifically, I'd like to request Toy Story.

An emergency phone backup battery thing. It holds a charge so when your phone dies right before you need to make a Very Important Call you can hook it up and take care of business, like a boss. This is also by no means necessary, but if you can find one that's not expensive and feel like passing it along I will totally make use of it.

And finally, plastic bags. I cannot stress enough that I do not want a lot of them, but if you have space to fill in a package and want to throw a few intact plastic bags in for cushioning, we could use them for trash bags. Plastic bags were outlawed in Dharamsala (which is awesome for the most part) which means you don't find them floating around in the street, but it also makes it a little tricky finding something to put your garbage in.

My address is:

Magda Ksiazak

c/o Tibet Charity

Below Temple Road

McLeod Ganj, 176219

Dharamsala, Himachal Pradesh, India

Please only nice presents. :)

Thanks everybody! <3