Stepping out the door

February 27th, 2008 by Bronwen Mander

Kolkata is a challenge, and sometimes I feel I have a love-hate relationship with it.

Each time I step out of my accommodation, I am confronted with the noise, filth and poverty. On the ground throughout the streets, people live, including families with cute but dirty children with oily knotted hair. At night, people sleep on the footpath covered head to toe with a blanket that looks like an old sack. A few luckier ones have erected a little lean-to made of anything they can find, covered in black plastic to keep the rain out.

The school where three of us are working is in a slum area. It wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for the initiative of a single woman and then the financial support of a finance company. That means that none of these kids would get an education – these are the lucky ones. Many of the children in the slums just have to work with their families and have little opportunity to just be a kid.

Each day, we catch a bicycle rickshaw to and from the school through the windy back streets lined with vegetable and fish stalls laid out on the ground and other tiny shops that sell toiletries, pharmaceuticals, bhujia mix and little packets of red tobacco-like stuff the men chew and spit on the ground. The bicycle rickshaws have no gears so the small guys have to work really hard. We are now well known from our daily trips and we no longer have to haggle for a R10 trip.

I have no experience teaching young children, but I was keen to work with kids. I was assigned to this school so I took it as a challenge – 3-4weeks ago. At first we were trying to run the classes as teacher and student. But these small children from the slums – some who are left alone all day while the parents work, to run and play on the railway track (where many children are killed), and others who live in a tiny shack with as many as 17 family members, more of course from violent homes – have no discipline at all. And the language barrier makes them difficult to control. So, we now mostly help out in the Nursery classes (the equivalent of Prep, where they start the ‘abc’ and ‘123′) and work closely with the weaker students for English and Maths. The children’s abilities vary, but they all are keen to learn. I have also taken other classes and groups on my own when teachers are short, but I’ve changed strategies to using easier activities that the kids like, such as a theme picture to colour, and those sessions can be fun. I now really feel I am helping the kids and making a difference for the school, and it’s not just about learning, it’s also about giving them love and attention. The teachers have shown their gratitude by telling us they feel miserable at the thought of us leaving.

Despite their chaotic natures, the kids are absolutely gorgeous and they seem to love having us there – I’m told they think we are “cute”, ha. When we arrive, they all say “good morning mam” and if one of us is missing, they ask where she is. After school, out of their uniform and in their worn, filthy clothes with no shoes, they laugh and wave and slap our hands as we walk out and say goodbye. It’s just lovely.

The teachers are also great – they are really nice and a lot of fun. They are very committed to the school and helping the naughty children. Besides asking if we’re married, the teachers have questioned us as to why we don’t wear jewellery. So, with my salwar-kameez that I wear everyday, I’ve started wearing bangles and earrings and I’ve coloured my hair.

Ah, the ups and the downs. It is a great experience.