I do have “work” as a YAV in Kerala. Teaching spoken English classes and music at Nicholson School is definitely work (and hard work!), as is the editing and clerical work that I do for the Tiruvalla Ecumenical Charitable Trust (the progressive social justice organization where I work once a week). But I’m gradually discovering that the time I spend playing with the girls at the school probably constitutes the most important work I do here. So for me, work and play are overlapping in wonderful, glorious ways. Let me give you some examples.
Halloween
I hosted a Halloween celebration at the school for all the boarding students and teachers. It was a blast! Halloween isn’t celebrated here and most of the children had never heard of it. So I asked the school principal to explain the holiday to the children in the morning assembly (in Malayalam so the younger ones would understand). Then I carved a jack-o-lantern and invited all 400-some boarding students to come to room between 8:00 and 9:30 that evening to trick-or-treat. As you might expect, it was chaos. But it was fun chaos. The girls came up with some really creative costumes especially considering that their only resources were the few clothes and toiletries the keep in boarding. Some came as ghosts or vampires with white talc powder on their faces. One group of tenth graders even put together a scary dance and song that they performed in front of my door! I was delighted that the teachers (who also board at the school) came trick-or-treating too. When they knocked on my door and yelled “boo,” I was indescribably happy. Most of them had also never experienced Halloween, and I was so glad that they wanted to participate in the holiday because it meant that they were also engaged in the cross-cultural celebration. It also seemed to me like an affirmation of the friendship that I’m building with them.
The Halloween celebration was a lot of fun for everyone, but it was also a teaching moment. The children got to learn about an important Western holiday, how it’s celebrated, and what it means. It was also a chance for them to use their creativity in creating costumes and (in some cases) songs and dances. Much of the schoolwork that the girls do does not nourish creative thinking or imagination, so opportunities to be creative are in short supply for the students. I also think the celebration gave them an opportunity to escape the strict rules of the boarding school and to simply play for a few hours. I believe (at least I hope) that the holiday escape from study and routine gave them a much-needed chance to learn by playing.
“Singin’ in the Rain”
Last week Nicholson School had a huge Exhibition as part of the school’s celebration of it’s centennial, which will occur this coming February. The Exhibition was a lot of work but it was also very fun. The school invited lots of different organizations to come and set up stalls. So, for example, ISRO – the Indian Space Research Organization, i.e. India’s version of NASA, – filled our auditorium with models of rockets and satellites and a Kerala-based Marine Fishing Organization brought aquariums full of dragon fish and clown fish with anemones. The students also made hundreds of models, charts, and experiments as projects to display. Picture the a huge high school science fair/art show, then add aquariums, rockets, and locally produced honey and you pretty much have it.
So for this grand Exhibition, I worked with some seventh grade girls to build a model solar system. You know, painted plastic balls with planet-name-tags on wire circles suspended from the ceiling. It was actually pretty cool when we finished. But that’s not the point. We were working on this model one afternoon, when it began to pour. We’re currently in the last stages of the NE monsoon season, and that afternoon, the skies opened and rain came down in sheets, flooding the school courtyard in minutes. The girls and I rushed out of the classroom where we’d been working to watch the downpour. I love rain, and I especially love big storms. So we stood on the balcony overlooking the flooded courtyard laughing at the beauty of the rain. Holding out our hands to catch the clean rainwater in our palms. Then I started singing the beginning of “Singin’ in the Rain,” which led to an impromptu teaching of the song to the girls. Then I taught them some basic swing dance steps, and we reveled in the rain with song and dance. The girls, in turn, showed me some classical Indian dance steps. (One student says she will teach me, so maybe by the time I leave Kerala I will have learned classical Indian dance!) Singing and dancing in the rainstorm the girls and I rediscovered the magic of playing, of finding impromptu fun so spontaneously.
Hindi Radio Appreciation
During the beginning of November, I accompanied a group of 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade students on a field trip to Kochi (on of the biggest cities in Kerala). I was partly there as a guest to see the tourist sites that the girls would visit, but I was also implicitly there to help keep an eye on the children. The other teachers and I obviously needed to keep the girls from getting lost, pulling each other’s hair out, or, I don’t know, sticking their hands in stray bee-hives. So I was there partially to help supervise the trip.
The field trip was a lot of fun, and all the sites we saw in the city were great. However, the best moment of the day took place on the bus. On our way to the city in the morning the driver turned on a radio station that was playing popular Hindi music. The girls were so excited about being on a field trip that they were nearly jumping out of their seats talking to each other and singing along to the songs. Then one of the other teachers and I stood up and started dancing in the aisle of the bus. (Traffic and roads in India would merit a separate and very long explanation. For the moment just accept that while this wasn’t exactly a safe action, it’s not uncommon or illegal.) Within seconds most of the girls were on their feet dancing and falling over in the aisle of the bus as we went over bumps and bridges. All the while we sang to the upbeat, rhythmic melodies of the Hindi radio station. At least, the students sang. I don’t know Hindi and didn’t understand the words of the songs, so I just danced and encouraged the girls to embrace the moment of fun. The chance to be free and play with the students gave them a great opportunity to overcome their shyness of me. When I danced with the girls to their favorite Hindi songs, I wasn’t their classroom teacher; instead I was a friend or maybe a little like an older sister. Such icebreaking moments are really important for my relationship with these young girls, many of whom live at the boarding school far away from their homes and families. Dancing and playing with them has made them more comfortable around me, and now some of them are comfortable approaching me with problems with their friends or family or with their own feelings of homesickness. I need to play with the students because it’s through play that we can truly become closer.
Through all these moments of play, I’m learning to break through the shyness that some of the students still have around me. And this is my real work. Because when the students overcome their shyness and nervousness around me, they talk more with me. Simply by becoming comfortable talking with me, they improve their English speaking skills (which is, after all, what I’m supposed to be teaching.) More importantly, some of them are now comfortable telling me about their worries or their homesickness, and then I can try to offer them emotional support. So for me, play is work. Right now in order to do my work as I understand it, that is, to be a mentor for the girls and help them with their English at the same time, I need to play with them. Finally, work and play for me are one and the same.
