Diwali is a festival which feeds my pyromaniac tendencies

The lonely planet guide described Diwali as India’s prettiest festival, it didn’t say that we would feel like we are living in a warzone surrounded by enough explosives to destroy the United Kingdom.  There are constantly fireworks going off.  Big massive bangs and these other ones that sound like a machine gun.  And they just let them off on the ground so there are little sticks of dynamite littered all over the ground.  I’m concerned that we are going to be accidental victims of a car bomb at some point.  Also, Valdus has a toy gun that has some kind of thing in it that makes it go bang, let of some smoke and spark a bit.  Which he has developed a habit of pointing at my face. 

The kids at school were really excited in the run up to Diwali.  They kept shaking our hands saying Happy Diwali, singing a Diwali song (I have no idea what the words were), and just generally not sitting down at all.  Or shutting up.  It is a really big thing here, it’s like Christmas!  The past two days everyone has been wearing their best clothes and they’re all dressed up so nicely.  Everybody visits and stays with family it seems, even here in a Christian house, all the family were here.  Although I think that’s nothing to do with Diwali, they just like to gather. 

Diwali is the Hindu festival of light.  They light the candles to lead Lord Rama home from exile.   I really need to find out more about the country I’m living in because I am getting all my information from Sarah… And they do light up everything.  They have fairy lights around their windows (it’s a good thing I’m not epileptic), candles around their doors and patios and have oil candles as well.  It’s really lovely.  They also eat a lot.  We were invited round to someone’s house for some lunch, and we were fed loads.  Chapattis, rice, a variety of curries, pompadoms, and some other carby lovely spicy thing.  And sweets.  Lots of sweets.  And the sweets here are nothing like what we get back home.  They are also very very sweet.  A lot sweeter than we’re used to!  Although we have been giving something that is pretty much the exact same thing as tablet and we were told it was an Indian sweet made in Mysore.. It was Tablet.   We went round to their house again for dinner and were fed even more sweets.  It is just like Christmas but with two massive meals instead of one.  But it was all amazing, and the people are so lovely.  They always talk to us and make us feel at home.  Although constantly being asked “are you feeling happy?” is really weird because I’m now starting to doubt myself.  Like I thought I was happy but now that I’m being asked I’m not so sure..

But the best thing about Diwali I’ve found is lighting crackers.   Or fireworks.   I’m really not sure what the official term is.  They light them on the ground as well.  Making them even more dangerous.  They spark and fizz and generally look like they’re going to set things on fire.  Especially where we were setting them off on Diwali because it was right underneath a power line surrounded by trees and bushes.  And little explosives that you light and chuck.  The variety of fireworks here are amazing.  There are ones that just make a bang, in a variety of volumes, it really is a good thing that the buildings are structurally sound because some of these bangs as so big that they actually create little craters in the ground.  There are also really sparky ones that whirl on the ground like Catherine wheels and risk setting saris and trousers on fire and ones that also go flying forward on the ground so quickly that I’m concerned they might change direction and take my eye out.  But they’re all amazing.  And I got to light a few as well.  It also trained me to back away quickly from something that could set you on fire.  Now I’m very good at it.   I got to light a rocket which was quite exciting!  It maybe wasn’t as big as some of the rockets you get back home but I can confirm that the fuse was a lot shorter.  The last firework that the family pulled out was some kind of terrifying looking rolled up thing that said “600 rounds!!” on it.  They then rolled it along the pathway in their garden (under power lines, beside trees) and we got to see it.  It was basically a roll of dynamite looking things about a metre long.  It was amazing.   And then, they handed me the matches.  It was actually like Christmas had come early.  I was just to light the paper because it looked like the fuse was too short to allow me to get a distance away in time.  So I just lit the paper and backed away from the possible bomb.  It was actually like a machine gun was going off right behind my ear.  And it was really bright as well.   I’m going to invest in more fireworks at home because it was fabulous. 

I love Diwali.  Lots of fire and light all the time.   And everyone was so dressed up all the time, in their Sunday best.  I made the mistake of, in the evening, just thinking we were just going to do some fireworks so I didn’t dress up in the slightest.  I looked quite scruffy.  And everyone else looked amazing.  So I’ll know for next time.  Saris are still acceptable for setting fire to things.  

Niamh Miss

We were finally given our proper timetables on Monday so we have just finished our first week as official teachers.   I’m teaching Pre KG & LKG, 1^st Standard, 3^RD Standard, 5^th Standard Science and 6^th and 7^th Standard drawing, craft and dance.  Sarah’s teaching UKG, 2^nd Standard and 4^th and 5^th.  And then we’re both teaching 8^th, 9^th and 10^th Standard drawing, craft and dance.

My day starts with LKG who are the youngest, about 4.  They are lovely.  So cute.  I could actually sit and watch them all day because they are hilarious.  One wee boy just sat and played with his handkerchief all day.  Like actually all day.  I have no idea what amusement he got from it, but he really did.  I watched another wee boy determinedly try and put his belt around his.  He kept trying for ages but couldn’t manage it.  He then thought that it would be easier to put it around his friend’s head, who, at the time, was furiously trying to rub out his hand with a rubber… And they sit and play with their bags, it actually keeps them amused for a good half hour.  It’s wonderful.  It’s just a lovely way to start the day.  Nice and easy.  And I hardly teach because the teachers in there are so good and they have everything sorted so all I have to do it play with the kids are make sure they don’t die from putting their bags around their necks and pulling. 

The older classes are a little bit harder though.  But I’ve discovered that bribery works a treat.  It’s just a shame it’s frowned upon everywhere but in a classroom to control children..  I’ve made some star charts and if they’re good, they get a star.  If they’re quiet, they get a star.  If they’re work is good, they get a star.  If they sing well, they get a star.  If they don’t hit their friend, they get a star.  That kind of thing.  I also have a chipmunk cuddly toy that is working so well.  If they are extra good, they get to have the chipmunk on their desk.  They love it.  They really do.  They cradle it and make squeaky noises and pet it.  And everyone wants it.  “IF YOU ARE GOOD (I have to shout because the class is always so noisy until you promise them something)  AND QUIET AND FINISH YOU’RE WORK, THEN YOU MIGHT GET THE CHIPMUNK,” has become a common phrase.  I’m convinced I am losing my voice because of all the shouting and singing and breathing in car fumes I’m doing.  I go through two massive bottles of water every day at school.   There’s one wee boy, Stanley (or Kven, I don’t know.  He answers to both and sometimes writes one on his sheets, sometimes writes the other) who I have turned into an absolute angel using the star charts.  He always sits quiet, with his finger over his lips, listens to me, watches me and does his work so well.  But today, one of the teachers asked him if he understood me and he shook his head.   The poor boy has no idea what I’m saying but he knows to shut up and he gets stickers and occasionally a chipmunk. (which they call squirrels, and they’re wrong.)

At the moment I’m currently trying to fend off Valdus/Spiderman because he keeps trying to touch my laptop and it being a touchscreen is a real issue.  He also keeps picking things up and handing them to me.. I’ve just been handed a water bottle, a pack of cards, some cream, a chocolate wrapper and right now a shell necklace.  He’s now doing the alphabet repeatedly.  He’s just put a loom band on my water bottle.

I’ve shown the kids pictures of my family and they’ve all said you all look lovely and beautiful.  They are always so curious about your family and ask so many questions about everyone.  I am permanently being interrogated by 8 year olds. 

Teaching has brought to my attention how much I don’t really know about stuff.  I can’t teach the older classes maths because I just can’t do it.  And by older classes I mean anyone past the age of 8.   I’m also struggling with the English.  I don’t know what half the proper terms are.   It’s really confusing.  And HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN WHAT A VOWEL IS!?!?!  Before I teach science I have to google it, because it turns out I know nothing about growing crops, or insecticides..

The kids just don't understand some of the time

For the older classes, 6^th, 7^th, 8^th, 9^th and 10^th we’ve to do drawing, craft and dance.  Now.. If you know me, you’ll know that this is a very better bad idea because I can’t do any of the above.  At all.  I was advised not to take art and I dance like my dad.  (sorry)  So this is going to be very fun.  At the moment, we’re just letting them draw on the board from a book for very small children so they may get a bit bored of that.. I am going to have to practice my craft skills but I don’t think I can do much about my drawing.  Or my dancing.  Which is just some kind of bobbing at the moment.

I feel like I’m an official teacher now because I have had my first parent’s day.  We were told that the parents would come and speak to us after they had spoken to the teacher but maybe only about 3 came to speak to me.  And it was an issue because of the language.  A lot of the parents don’t speak English very well so it’s down to the kids to translate.   It does prove really how good the kids are at English but I’m never sure if I’m being translated correctly.   One of the parents came along without their child and that made it really hard because it turns out that I don’t know all the kids names so when he said who his daughter was I just had to make some stuff up.  I hope it was right… Because I can’t put faces to names very well.  So his daughter was “quite good in class” and “worked hard most of the time” which to be fair, goes for most of the kids.  So I don’t know what he went away from that thinking.  

Most of the kids are really lovely (they’re even better when you’re not teaching them) but the main issue is they won’t shut up!  They are constantly talking to me, each other, themselves despite me telling them to shut it, but more politely.  Whenever they want my attention the either get out of their seats, grab my arm or shout at me.  “Miss, Miss, Ma’am, Miss, Ma’am, Ma’am, MISSMISSMISSMISS, Ma’aaaaam, Miss, me Miss, Miss, MA’AM, MIIIIISSSSSS”  It’s one of the most annoy things because it’s usually about eight of them doing it at once and three more practically standing on your toes waving in your face.  “I will get to you, if you just sit yourself down and shut yourself up.”  Luckily the older classes don’t shout, they just crowd round you so much that I’m glad I’m not claustrophobic or I may have fainted about 23 times by now.

A wee boy called me Mum today by accident.  Not even one of the youngest, it was a boy in 5^th standard who is 11.  It was one of the funniest things.  It was so sweet.  He just did it so innocently, he was handing me his work and he just said “mine, mummy.”  We both realised what he had said at the exact same time and the look on his face was priceless.  He just looked at me in horror while I just started to laugh! And then he was like “miss….” and quickly sat down again.  Luckily it was only me and him who had noticed it so the rest of the class had no idea why we were laughing for ages.  

Post!

If anyone is desperate to send me a letter or anything my address is

Sharon School,

Kommagondanahalli,

Jalahalli West,

Bengaluru,

Karnataka,

India,

560 015

And if anybody is desperate to send me a present and you were just waiting until you had my address, a diary would be nice.  Like a journal thing.  Because it turns out I’m writing a lot and you probably know how big my handwriting is so you can understand why I’m going through my diary at a crazy rate…

Alice the Camel

So when we were at Dreamworld, we were told to teach the kids a few songs.   So I decided to teach them one that my Brownies back home love, Alice the Camel.  I think the kids here loved it as well but I'm not sure they really understood it...

It can get hard as well

 All my blogs so far have been telling how exciting and fun my trip has been so far, but I want to let people know that if you are going away for a year things do happen back home and you would rather be back there with your family at those times. So let me tell you about my Grandad.

His name was William Archibald Ronald Lindsay but he was always Ronnie.   He lived his whole life in Dunfermline but that did not mean he didn’t see so much more of the world.  Part of the reason I think I’m in India, although I’ve not thought about that until now.  I want to make sure I see as much of the world as he has. 

I really don’t know how to say all this so I’m sorry if it doesn’t read well, I just really struggle with this.

When we were wee (me, my sister and my cousins) he would always lift us up so that we could touch the ceiling in the living room or make the chimes go in the porch. 

He was amazing and I’ll remember him like that instead of the recent memories I have of him.  He had Alzheimer's and for the last 8 years he’s been in hospital.  Looking at someone at knowing they don’t know you is horrible.  My Grandma is so strong for what she’s done, she’s incredible.  We all knew my Grandad was suffering and that he hated being stuck in bed, unable to do anything and that made it all the harder, knowing what he was like before.  He was someone who loved everything and took the happiness in everything, always smiling.  Always.  He was always so proud of all of us and I know he still will be, in everything.  Well, I hope he is because I’m so happy to say I’m doing all this for him.  Making sure I always challenge myself and do the best I ever can. 

On the 27^th of September, my Grandad died.  After living with Alzheimer’s for so long, he is now free.  He can now do what he wants again.  He can go where he wants.  See where he wants.  The fact that he had Alzheimer’s for so long meant we knew that this was going to happen but that doesn’t make it any easier when someone dies, no amount of preparation actually prepares you for the realisation that that person is now no longer in the world.  They are gone. 

This would have been hard to deal with if I was at home with my family but I’m in India, exactly 5144 miles from home. (according to google)  I’m away from my family and everything that is normal, in a different country, culture.  I think it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever been through, and will have to again.  It’s horrible being away from your family when you know they’re going through hell at home.  I was stuck in India not able to hug my mum or anything.  I could just sit on my (surprisingly hard) bed here and do nothing for them.  The family we’re living with are all so lovely but it just still doesn’t compare to being at home with your own family and having their support.  There was a big family party about a week ago and I thought that would have made me feel better but it didn’t.  It made it so much worse.  The family are just like mine back home and it just meant that I missed them all more.

I would never say I wanted to come home because I am having such a good time here.  But it’s just that I would rather have been with my family than in India.  The only thing that is keeping me determined to be here is that I know my Grandad would never have wanted me to come home in a million years.  I know that I have to finish my year here so that I can make him proud of all I’ve done. 

I don’t know how to feel after all this has happened.  I really don’t know how I’m supposed to feel and how I’m supposed to deal with it.  Crying in the bathroom seemed to be a common way of dealing with it but that doesn’t mean I’m any clearer on what I want.   I just kind of kept going like things were normal even though inside I felt awful, I just wanted to talk to home and make sure they were all okay.  I didn’t know what I wanted here that would make it better.  I wasn’t even sure at some points if anything could make it better.  I was just numb to things until it hit me again and it almost made me feel sick.   Trying to distract myself didn’t seem to work either, I would just start thinking again.  And I couldn’t think about doing anything because I felt guilty about enjoying myself. 

I find it really hard to express how I feel, to anybody.  I never like people worrying about me or them going out of their way to help me or do things to cheer me up.  Even though I love doing that for other people I can’t seem to let other people do the same for me.  It’s not that I don’t share (I think Sarah would agree that I have shared far too much on this trip already) it’s just that I don’t do telling people how I feel.  So this post has been really hard for me. 

On Monday the 6^th October, my Grandma and Grandad’s wedding anniversary, it was my Grandad’s funeral.   And I went to a safari park.  I don’t know whether to feel guilty that I did this or not because it was a way for me not to think about it.   But when we came back, after buying a white rose (because that was what my sister was putting on his coffin for me) I read through the eulogy and listened to the songs they played.  The eulogy was perfect and so was what my Aunt said as well.  And the songs were so well chosen as well.  Tina Turner – The Best, Kirsty MacColl – Days, and Ae Fond Kiss.  I’m hoping now that my Grandad is finally free that it will be easier for me here but I don’t know.  That seems to be a common theme for me, I just don’t know.   

I’m really sorry that this post doesn’t flow well but it’s just because it’s so hard for me to write.   I will always miss my Grandad  but I know that he will always be my inspiration for everything.  I will always have to keep going, enjoying myself and do amazing things just like he did because I know that no matter what, I’ll always have my Grandad. 

The difficulty we have with langauges

Back home knowing one language is plenty.  English will allow you to communicate with everybody without an issue.  For the majority of people in Britain their mother tongue is English, in India it's not so simple.  There are 22 official languages and over 1600 minor languages and dialects spoken in India.  I thought that because the official language of Karnataka (the state we're living in) is Kannada, that we would just be able to learn Kannada and it would be fine.  No.  That's not fine.  In Bangalore, it is very common for people to speak four or more languages.   Even children.  Shobitha's nephew, Ryan, who is five, can speak five languages.  People here and constantly asking us what language we speak in Scotland and they can never quite understand it when we tell them that we only speak English.  "But what other languages are there?" "Only English" "But what is your regional language?" "English..." "But what about the other regions?" "Emm.. English" "What about in the countryside?" "English" "What about the towns?" "ENGLISH" "......." "WE ONLY SPEAK ENGLISH"

The national language of India is Hindi, in Bangalore the official language is Kannada.  But most people don't even speak either of those as their first language even though they are fluent in them both.  People here also speak, Malayalam, Tamil and Telegu.  So you can understand why we're struggling.  We have to guess what language people are speaking from a list of five.  Which all sound remarkably similar.  And also look very similar as well.

Here is the sentence, My name is Niamh, written down in all of those five languages.  Try and guess which one's which.

मेरा नाम Niamh है

ನನ್ನ ಹೆಸರು Niamh ಹೊಂದಿದೆ

என் பெயர் Niamh ஆகிறது

నా పేరు Niamh ఉంది

There are only four because Google Translate does not have Malayalam.  So these are either Kannada, Tamil, Telugu or Hindi.
















I didn't want the answers to be just below so that's why there's the massive gap.  Not because I just forgot to write stuff.  So the first one was Hindi, then Kannada, Tamil, then Telugu.

Google Translate also doesn't speak Indian languages or I would have put the links here.  But I think that's the one downfall of it..

We were told that it would be good to learn some Hindi because it's the national language.  Which was fine, I would love to learn some Hindi, it sounds like a really useful language here.  Then we were told we should learn Kannada because that's the language that most people in Bangalore speak so we'll be able to talk to all of them.  Great, that would be good to be able to talk to people in our new home city, but is two languages not a bit much?  Apparently not it is "okay" because "everyone speaks those." Then we were told to learn some Telugu.  What!?  No, three languages?  I can barely speak my own mother tongue, English, never mind three others which I just can't seem to wrap my tongue around.

Deep chats after parties

What is it that frequently happens at the end of parties?  You eat all the available food and set the world to rights.  That also happens here in India (although I’m beginning to wonder if it’s just me that does that… And that I’ve just brought my tradition to India…)

It was Spiderman’s birthday on Monday (we call him spiderman because it took us ages to find out that his name was actually Valdus and when we asked him his name, he actually said Spiderman.  He’s now only 4 so that’s allowed).  So there was a big family gathering at the house so it was really nice.  We think we worked out who belonged to what family but we’re still working on it a bit.  They were all so lovely and we constantly trying to get us involved.  They take loads of pictures! So many and I’m in more than I’m comfortable with.. I don’t know how any of them turned out because they always insist that any photo with me or Sarah in it is beautiful  I have my doubts though.  There was a cake (spiderman obviously) and it was really good.  And they had a foam spray can thing which sprayed fake snow that just ended up making everyone’s hair slightly damp.  Shobitha’s mother-in-law put some real flowers in my hair, around my bun and I felt rather Indian.  We’d also been given ankle bracelets and I’d even been given earrings because apparently my ears were looking rather bare.  It was really lovely.  The whole family are some of the nicest people I have ever met.

Later we came down to have some dinner (at about 10) and we were fed loads.  I really struggled to eat it all.  They gave me some mutton, chicken, more chicken and some more chicken.  With three chapattis and lots of beef rice.  They didn’t give Sarah as much! I’m thinking of telling Shobitha I’ve changed my mind and that I am a vegetarian so I don’t have plates and plates full of meat.  It’s some of the best food I’ve ever had but I think I’d enjoy it more if I didn’t have so much… But we are treated like royalty here so they always do everything for us.  We’re hardly allowed to take our glasses to the kitchen.

After the 23 course meal that was dinner, we were just sitting around the table and Shobitha came to join me and Sarah.  We were just having some nice conversations about life and stuff and then the conversation turned to politics.  There’s recently been a politician arrested and jailed here in India and when you hear about the wealth she accumulated and look at some of the homes we drive past on the way to school, it really is disgusting and awful to think about the extreme differences in India.  In 1994, this politician had 9000 pairs of shoes.  I know I really like shoes but even I know I’d never wear all of them.. Ever.  Partly because I end up wearing the same shoes over and over again but that’s not the point.  Shobitha was telling us about a programme that was on in India about politicians in India and it said that if the politicians used all their money that was in Swiss banks, then India would be 10 times richer than the US.  I don’t know how true that is but even if they used a fraction of their money they could help their country and all the people that are suffering and all the parents who work hard to get their children into school.  Shobitha was telling us about the corruption in Indian politics and as much as we think politicians are full of hot air (putting it politely) at least they try to better the country.  It’s just not the same here.  It seems to be when people get money they forget about the vast majority of the people in the country who struggle every single day of their life while they just change their clothes 8 times a day to get use out of all their expensive suits.   After eating possibly the biggest meal in my life this was all just really awful to think about.  It just shows how unfair and unequal a society can be. 

On a lighter note, a gecko came into the bathroom when I was having a shower the other day and stood there for while watching me shower.  Then it just disappeared out the window when I was washing conditioner out.