Let the Games commence…

I missed out on my swimming ticket due to a rescheduling of the Coimbatore interpreter training. I’d had a few emails whilst I was away asking if the atmosphere in Delhi had changed due to the Commonwealth Games and what it was like. I wasn’t expecting major changes in the city though I’d read news of the special CWG lanes causing havoc for drivers and the venues not being ready on time. I was expecting even more overinflated auto rates and more tourists but that was about it.

I was lucky enough to return by plane rather than endure another 42 hour train journey (ok once but not twice in two weeks). I booked my taxi then headed over to the chaos that was the pre-booked taxi stand. I’d never seen it like this before. Tourist wandered round like lost sheep and the taxi men were barking numbers and herding people into their cars. There was nearly fisticuffs as one local was about to lose it. I took matters into my own hands and flagged down the car with my number on it. Once in I had to listen to the CWG theme song on repeat for 45 minutes. Still, I didn’t even think it was as bad as the critics say.

I wasn’t sure if I was mistaken but Dilli looked a bit cleaner. Recently the plastic hoardings they’d put up to make the roadside look better had been ripped. They’d fixed that and there was a definite increase in shrubbery.

At the docs the next day there were definitely more cargo pant wearers and people in silly hats that scream tourist. Strangely though, when I got to see the Games I saw comparatively few tourists at JN Stadium but then I was in the cheaper seats. I happily sat amongst screaming families as they cheered on the brilliantly entertaining men’s triple jumper Maheshwary and no less than 3 Indian javelin throwers. When England won both the men’s and women’s 100m relay there was no doubt as to which country I came from. We went on to win a few more medals and I’m glad India did too, the stadium atmosphere was electric.

A few days later and it was time for some badders. With every match featuring either England or India it was going to be a good day. It ended with two golds for India with the brilliant Saina winning the women’s singles. England ended up with 3 silvers surprisingly as in two matches they looked close to being able to win.

I had a good conversation with a gentleman who was telling me that good sportsmanship was important and everyone should be clapping both sides. I think he was trying to negate the fact that the couple behind me were shouting at the England player that he should hurry up and lose. Charming. They did get confused though when they realised his first name was Rajiv. They wondered for an instant whether they should be supporting him then went back to cheering on the freakishly fast Malaysian Chong Wei Lee. This is a man who has lost something like one match in his last 60. Rajiv, you did brilliantly.

One teenager kept walking in front of me when crucial points were being played. I held him off with one hand as Anthony Clark hurled himself onto the floor then turned and calmly stated that you should wait whilst points are being played. Hmmph. Many of the crowd turned up half way through and popped out during matches. It was obvious they were only there to see Saina in the last match. Shame the people in my row weren’t more like my gentleman friend and there for the sport not just the Indian players.

Needless to say the venue went wild with all the police and volunteers coming inside for the last game. Saina was pretty brilliant and absolutely deserved the gold. Thing is if everyone was inside who was left outside? Not many by the time I snuck out as she was doing her lap of the crowds.

The excellent organisation of the whole games wasn’t that surprising. Even the new metro line was open enabling me to use my CWG ticket to get to the games for free. This is how it rolls in India. It all seems like chaos. All the naysayers are baying that it’ll never happen on time, things will be a mess and everything is a disgrace. Then it all comes together at the last moment and you wondered how you ever doubted it all.

Look at South Arica and the World cup. There’s nothing like hosting a world sporting event to boost your country’s credentials, the economy, employment and a sense of national pride. It just a shame that corruption meant the toilet rolls were being charged at 4000 rupees and the price of a treadmill rental was reportedly more than the cost of buying it. But the CWG has highlighted to the world the controversies of India. The ‘shining’ India, the one capable of being on the world stage with its growing economy alongside the poverty, the way slum dwellers were dealt with and the corruption that pervades everything political. Now the games are over, let the investigations commence…

Coimbatore - Interpreter Training Course Number 3

There are always some ups and downs in the first few days of the interpreter training. You rock up in a strange new town, unpack and prepare yourself and the trainers for what is to come. You take a long look at the list of names, their backgrounds and talk about their potential.

Some of the people that you thought had promise and you were excited about just don’t turn up on the day: illness in the family, changed minds, live too far away, think because they have done a sign language course they don’t need to learn about interpreting. The last reason is the most disappointing. The primary aim of the training is giving specialised interpreter training to those that have language skills whether they are bilinguals by virtue of having Deaf family or friends or because they may have learnt some sign language already. Sign language and interpreting skills: two different things people.

It’s great when you get random people turn up, those that you thought may never come and they transform over the week into knowledgeable, committed and passionate people. Being in an immersive environment for 9 straight days with members of the local Deaf community, learning from Deaf and interpreter trainers about linguistics and Deaf perspectives makes people’s ISL skills and use of specialised signs shoot through the roof.

We’ve had tons of people having light bulb moments. The guy with a Deaf friend who thinks that Deaf people don’t know very much – he’d only met one Deaf person who’d had a terrible education. A couple of days with our brilliant Deaf trainer and he was a changed man. The teachers are often the best to see. In Coimbatore we were lucky to have three teachers of the Deaf attending. All had worked for a few years and some had a basic level of signing. One broke down and cried on day one. She said going through the sign language assessment that she realised how difficult it is to understand in a different language and how bad it was that she hadn’t used signing with the children for four years. I’ve found that these light bulb moments are the turning point for people. They improve dramatically and often go on to be the strongest advocates of Deaf people and sign language.

As this was the last course I’ll be attending I have spent most of my time refusing to deliver or facilitate sessions in order to watch and play a more supportive role. I’ve been in the background watching, advising and providing input where necessary which gratifyingly has been hardly at all. I was struck down by fever one day and took to my bed in the Deaf Centre in the next room. From there I could hear them all happily role-playing away. When I popped my flushed bedhead into the room to see if everything was ok I was sympathetically told to go back to bed!

After two previous courses and an evaluation process it seems the changes we have made have left ASLI with a course that can be delivered for months to come to many potential or existing interpreters in India. I’m chuffed and really proud of the course content. Dramatic changes occur to participants over the nine days and it amazes me every time I see it. I can’t wait for the day when India gets much longer interpreter training programs. Just imagine the results that will be possible then.

10 Down, 2 to go

As is usual on the old blog, I feel the urge to reflect on what has happened and what the coming months will bring. A VSO placement often feels like it is broken up into a few stages. There's the strange first three months, the last few and the long bulk of it in the middle. At 10 months in, it certianly feels like I've been here a while. Now I'm on the final stretch it's the right time to look back and more importantly look forward to what is to come.

I look back and in some ways I feel I’ve been here forever. I can’t remember what it’s like to walk into a Tesco’s and be confronted by a range of cheeses. The common thing that’s said about India is it’s an assault on the senses when you arrive: the colours, the smells, the noise and general chaos. Thing is after months of shopping at vegetable stalls and small shops when I get into a fully-stocked supermarket I think I might feel consumed by the smell of the bakery and overcome by the salamis. I’ll be freaking out at the choice. Once I’ve recovered there is a chance I’ll be shocked by all the consumerism and will never venture into such an establishment again.

Work wise I’m currently on the third interpreter training program and writing this from Coimbatore in South India. We’ve ran out of time to do course number 4 and 5 so ASLI will be doing this after I’ve gone. This means I need to ensure everything I need to do is completed before I go, everyone is happy with what they are doing and everything is sustainable by making sure any skills and knowledge have been passed on. I’ve seen the course develop over the months and I’m really happy with the progress we’ve made. I won’t be needed at the next now it’s all up and running. There’s no relaxing yet though as there’s a few more things to keep me busy until the end of November.

I’ve had my final placement review, I’ve started catching up on reporting, I’ve planned my last few working months, have a vague idea of where I want travel afterwards and I’ve booked my flight home. In the middle of all this reflection and the tidying up of ends I just want to get back. By the time I get there three of my friends will have new born babies and people keep emailing me amazing news. Before I came, friends and family all reassured me that nothing would change in a year. They all lied. As much as I love it here and want to come back, it’s time to finish what I came here to do, plan my future then go and see all the lovely folks back home.

Pics from:
http://www.billboardmama.com/wise-construction-c-4_30.html
http://www.flickr.com/photos/63695821@N00/1327862465

All Aboard...

I was 5 hours into a train journey last week when I managed to get my battery starved laptop on, cranked up the internet and tweeted: …another 37 hours to go. 42 scheduled hours from Delhi to Coimbatore in Tamil Nadu. A cool 2611 km away. That’s nearly two and half times the entire length of my home country, Great Britain.

These long train journeys in India are renowned for running late. As I stood on the platform at New Delhi relishing the freedom of the outdoors several announcements came across the loud speakers: We are sorry to announce the Shatabdi Express is running late by 10 hours and 37 minutes. We regret any inconvenience caused. We are sorry to announce the Puri Express is running late by 8 hours and 23 minutes. We regret any inconvenience caused. The train name usually becomes a bit of a misnomer.

I was lucky though. I left on the morning of the 28th at 11:30 and was due to arrive almost two days later at 05:10 on the 30th. I actually arrived a little after 6am but what’s another hour between friends.

Several snacks, some chatting with my fellow travelers, one of whom was traveling to Kerala and would be on the train for 52 hours, waving at small children who were looking up to my upper berth, a lot of reading and sleeping and it was all over. If you want to see the inside of an Indian train I took a video last year on the Puri Express and it’s up on YouTube. That journey was a monster 34 hours so nothing really.

The most amazing thing about train travel in India is you might lose a couple of days in comparison to the 4 hour flight but the damage to your pocket for over 2500km of travel in 2AC, i.e. air conditioned carriages with only two berths per space (upper and lower) is the equivalent of ₤30. Bargain.