Stories

Today I went to the school again, all day, stocked with ammunition-- English storybooks and art supplies.  More on that another time.  But here are some stories from the day...

After doing some English with the 4th grade class (they were teacher-less for this period), the teacher entered the class and began the ganitha (math) lesson.  The 4th grade classroom is half a schoolroom, divided with the 5th grade by a wooden partition that does not reach the ceiling.  I was sitting and watching the lesson-- the teacher copied a drawing from their textbook, and the students were supposed to follow, and write out numbers based on their thousands, hundredths, tens, and ones places.  For example:

7777 = 7000 + 700 + 70 + 7

About 15/45 of the students were actually participating in the lesson, shouting the answers and running to the teacher to have him check their notebooks.  I noticed that one kid sitting near my feet, Manikanta, was rubbing his eyes, textbook and notebook closed.  He was crying.  I asked him why, and he said it was because he didn't have a pencil.  I offered my pen, but he refused vehemently.  No kid would let him borrow their pencil.  I went to the HM's office and grabbed a tiny pencil lying around, and offered it to him.  Still, he refused.  I kept trying to console him, but he would not open his book and follow the lesson.  Nearly 10 more minutes went by, and the rest of the class had moved along.  Finally, I gave him a stern look and forced him to stand up with me, and we went through the problem together.  I kept shouting excitedly ("Verrryy Goooud" in my Indian accent) when he understood what I was asking him, and finally, he took my pen and started writing the answers to the questions.  

Later, at the end of the day, I was helping the HM fill out records to enroll the 8th graders for their SSLC (10th Standard) examinations in two years.  SSLC exams are a huge deal around here, and apparently you have to submit perfect records far in advance, with payments and photos for each child.  While we were working, a young mother came into the office and started talking to the HM about her son in the 5th Standard.  She was worried because he refuses to write, or read, or do any work in either school or at home.  She is illiterate and cannot help her son.  She has high aspirations for him.  At one point, as she was talking, she just started crying. I couldn't really make out why, but later Padmaja explained that it was because her husband drinks, and she is worried that her son will end up like him.