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.

Bodhgaya: Finding some peace

After the delivery of the Kolkata interpreter training over 9 days including two weekends it was time for some R&R. I had one day to explore Kolkata with one of the volunteers there who showed me round. We had a laugh in the planetarium where the 70-something schoolmarm shouted at people if they had their mobiles on and told us that Pluto was no longer a planet and had been demoted. As India’s old capital city, Kolkata has a lovely historical feel to it and is certainly more cultured than Delhi which feels clinical and functional (or dysfunctional) in comparison. The Park Street cemetery was a little slice of calm and told of young British deaths due to Malaria and Typhoid. India is as mad as a box of frogs, what must have it have been like in the 1800’s?

After the whistle stop tour it was off to Bodhgaya for me and my friend who hadn’t been out of Kolkata for 6 months. A remarkable achievement for a place that although lovely was packed, had crazy traffic and few green spaces. Bodhgaya seemed a good choice as the site where Shakyamuni Buddha gained enlightenment under the Bodhi tree.

We arrived at Gaya and got an auto the 13km out to Bodhgaya through a few villages and fields. Ruralshire was a welcome sight. We found our guesthouse complete with some monks and sorted ourselves out after the night train. We discovered a tiny town with temples dotted along the sides of one main road. Monks mingled with mainly Indian tourists and the stalls were selling tourist tack. I’d heard reports this place had been ruined and after having breakfast in a dirty restaurant accompanied by cockroaches I’d wondered whether I was even going to like it here. The cheap eats we got at a Thai restaurant redeemed the place and the next day we had found a good travellers cafe and a quality dhaba for chai and chaat.

The reason for coming was confirmed once we entered the Mahabodhi temple complex. This Indian Buddhist temple was built by King Ashok to preserve and commemorate the site of the Bodhi tree. I’ve been practicing Buddhism over the last year or so but whether you practice or not you can really feel the power and serenity of the place. We sat under the tree with monks, lay Buddhists and tourists from all over Asia. Some meditated, some chanted, others sat in peaceful thought and contemplation. Over the three days we chatted to a few Sri Lankan Buddhists, sat under the tree with others and watched Korean Buddhists chanting with some monks.

The other temples in Bodhgaya all have different characteristics and decorations depending on their region. The Tibetan Karma temple had the most amazing depictions of Buddhist scenes such as the moment Buddha gained enlightenment. The main Tibetan temple had monks listening to a talk by the Dalai Lama and the Bhutanese one was atmospheric replete with a monk banging a drum and chanting. The Chinese temple took me back to travelling China last year with its script inside and the large stone dragons adorning the doors. The Japanese multi-denominational temple was peaceful and spacious with its understated wooden features and open spaces.

We saw many others but were drawn back to the main Mahabodhi temple every day as somewhere you could spend time in peaceful solitude. The town is similar to other Indian tourist spots with the hawkers selling tat and a willingness of some locals to rip off foreign tourists. Hey that’s just the downside of India. Another problem we had was being a few weeks ahead of the main tourist season we were two of only a handful of foreigners. We got rather more attention than we wanted with cameras thrust in our faces and being constantly asked where we were from. It was easier to escape inside the complex and take refuge. Apart from that, anyone spending time here in the presence of Buddhists cannot fail to feel peaceful and happy. Three days was enough to feel refreshed and get back to Delhi ready for a potentially painful visa extension process and preparations for the next interpreter training course.

Round 2: Interpreter Training in Kolkata

The first course was in Delhi and was our tester. This was Kolkata and this was for real. We had our Deaf trainer to lead the course for the first 2 days teaching Deaf history, community and culture delivering in Indian Sign Language (ISL) so clear and wonderful that most participants couldn’t take their eyes of him. After talking to our contacts we realised the impact we were already making. It seemed West Bengal had never seen sign language like it.

We had 13 people turn up who consisted of 4 members of staff from a Deaf organisation, 3 teachers of the Deaf, 3 parents and 3 people who already were interpreters. The staff of the organisation told us about a dire lack of services in the state for Deaf people. For example Kolkata has around 4 schools for the Deaf, all of which use the oral method of teaching, which means using speech not sign language. Famously in 1880 a conference of educators for the Deaf banned the use of sign language in schools. This was a decision which caused much discrimination and took education of the Deaf back to the middle ages. Anyone who is Deaf or works with Deaf people will tell you stories of Deaf children having their hands caned, tied behind their backs or sellotaped together. This is the equivalent of gagging someone. We happily reported that the ICED had formally rejected the 1880 resolution after 130 years opening up a new era for Deaf participation and respect for sign language in education. Two of the teachers of the Deaf, who depressingly didn’t know ISL, didn’t come back the next day. I’d like to think some of the teaching got through to them. This is one reason why Deaf Way will be doing a survey of Deaf education in India soon.

After the first 2 days of teaching and working out the results of our language assessments we had a core number of participants who were either already interpreters or had good enough ISL to start a course of interpreting. Arun Rao, ASLI’s president and trainer supremo, and I led the next 7 days of intensive interpreter training. The number was less than we wanted but it was a sad fact that our course was five years ahead of its time for this state. We ploughed on though and took on the challenge. One of the students bought in a figurine of Saraswati, the goddess of education, culture and knowledge so we put her on the front desk to give us all good luck. I was really buoyed up by the willing attitude of the participants to get involved and learn. We had great fun again doing the role plays and putting people through their paces. We had 3 local Deaf people who helped us with role plays and assessments. It was essential to have their input and their assistance as users of the Bengali dialect of ISL. It was so much fun watching them act out scenes as parents or shoppers to Arun’s dour shopkeepers or angry school principals. All of them deserve Oscars.

We had one more hiccup, a typical Bengali Bundh. This is apparently a monthly occurrence of an all day strike where the city shuts down including shops and transport. The police are out so anyone breaking the strike is fined. We couldn’t hold the course as people were coming from too far away so we agreed to have longer days. This meant I could get on with some work and spend some time relaxing by watching some lapdog TV.

After those long days and enjoying some great Bengali fish it was time to wrap up the course. There was a marked difference in attitudes, skill and competence by the end of the week and again it was a real pleasure to be there to see these improvements. One person said she didn’t know how we could possibly teach that much about interpreting in 9 days but we had made her realise it was a complex process that deserved more follow up courses.

I’m now armed with more changes to make before the next course which will be in Coimbatour in Tamil Nadu. After a break in Bodhgaya, the good work will be continued...

Dharamsala and The Dalai Lama

After the nine days of interpreter training in Delhi it was time for a break. I went straight to the hills to Dharamsala, the site of the Tibetan government in exile. After a queasy 12 hour bus ride round altitudinous mountain roads, my friend and I arrived. We were welcomed by a cool breeze and a rickety taxi van.

Upon arrival at McLeod Ganj, otherwise known as Upper Dharamsala, the taxi pulled over and I wasn’t sure the handbrake would hold on the incline outside the guesthouse. After freshening up it was delicious Momos for lunch. It would be sacrilegious to come here and not eat them. We chose a roof top hotel restaurant. We could see the monks chatting on the street below outside the temple opposite. The highlight of lunch was seeing an elderly woman walk round the whole temple turning every prayer wheel as she passed. A beer or two later was enough to ensure relaxation was kicking in which meant we then went to the beer shop to pick up some fruity local apple and plum wines. We supped on the balcony in the early evening watching kestrel-like birds hovering over the trees passing in front of the many coloured buildings on the slopes of the town. It was all reminiscent of Sorrento in late autumn not that I’ve been there.

The main attraction was being able to listen to teachings of the Dalai Lama. You register the day before with your passport and two photos. You’re given an ID badge that gets you into areas outside the temple in the Tsuglagkhang complex. Once in you can sit yourself in the different cordoned off areas with signs that say English 96.0 FM and Spanish 95.4 FM. The Dalai Lama speaks in Tibetan which was translated simultaneously into Korean as the teachings were requested by Korean Tibetan Buddhists. Breaks were taken every ten minutes or so the listeners could tune in to the consecutive translations into six different languages. It was quite impressive being amongst so many people of different backgrounds and countries all with the same purpose. The monks come round serving bread and Po Cha (butter tea). As the Dalai Lama swept in and out of the hall amonst the assmebled Tibetan Buddhists you could see  their faces light up. He has an amazing presence and it was an honour to be able to be there.

The Tibetans are in exile, forced out of their homeland by the Chinese with a history of atrocities committed against them. The Panchen Lama was kidnapped 14 years ago when he was six, a fact the Chinese government still deny. Many people travel here to work with refugees. Despite their treatment Tibetans are a happy lot and make Dharamsala a lovely place to be walking beside the monks and taking in the mountain views. I’ve checked out the Dalai Lama’s schedule and I’m sure I’ll be back for more.

The Dalai Lama's Trust: http://www.dalailama.com/office/the-dalai-lama-trust
Free Tibet: www.freetibet.org
Save Tibet: www.savetibet.org

Training the Interpreter Trainers

We just completed the first interpreter training program for bilinguals i.e. people already fluent in ISL (Indian Sign Language). This was a bridge course over 9 full on days. Many cups of Chai were quaffed to get us through these manic days. There may also have been a few rounds of cake...

ASLI was funded by VSO to provide this pilot course in Delhi followed by four more courses around the country. The idea was that I would write the course along with Arun Rao, the President of ASLI, who has delivered courses before. We amassed training resources such as ISL clips and started with language assessments last Monday. We’d already hand-picked our first cohort to cover a range of experiences and locations. Some of whom will become our first interpreter trainers. We then invited a few Deaf people with linguistic training to become our first batch of Deaf trainers.

In the reality of the classroom I was able to gain more insight into what the interpreters needed. Each night I went home to make notes on the days training and to prepare for the following day. Some of the material was pitched too high and I have tons of scribbles reminding me how the course will be changed for the next batch.

The definite highs were being able to observe and give people feedback. One participant said she had never had feedback in 15 years of working as an interpreter and felt she had gained a lot from the course. I’m really happy we managed to cater for both new and experienced interpreters. Everyone agreed the practicals were the most fun so next week I am working on more ideas to get people active in the classroom. I believe we have given these interpreters practical tools and information that they can use out on the job. As this was my main placement objective I am so pleased we have completed the first course successfully and have feedback so we can make improvements.  

It doesn’t end there. On the third day of training we got word that the government had approved our training. This means interpreters passing the course will be able to get an ‘A’ Level certificate with the government. The ‘A’ level is the first qualification with ‘C’ being the highest available. At least 3 of our first batch are already at ‘C’ level standard or above. ASLI is working on getting higher level qualifications as both interpreters and Deaf people recognise this is not yet enough.

Most ‘A’ and ‘B’ level courses offered consist of ISL teaching only and little interpreter training. Although our students can only get the ‘A’ certification at the moment, we have given them a grounding in ethics, more coping strategies for when they are in high pressure situations, information on how to better work with Deaf people and a chance to practice in a safe environment.

Along with the news of certification came funding to carry out an additional five courses making ten in total with the VSO funding. ASLI will now be able to create up to another 130 interpreters in this programme of training that will looks to continue long after I have left India. ASLI also has the potential now to build on the first using evaluation programmes and further courses taking ‘A’ level interpreters through to ‘B’ then ‘C’. The ultimate aim is getting higher level courses in place and jobs for interpreters. India’s interpreting profession is still going through its first baby steps and like a proud parent (or rather participatory cousin) I am happy to be here to experience it along side everyone.    

Cleaned Out

One plus of living in India is having hired help. You feel slightly embarrassed you’re paying someone the equivalent of £15 a month to clean every morning but you obviously get used to it surprisingly quickly. It’s a relief to have help as Delhi’s dust gets everywhere. Surfaces have to be wiped and floors swept and mopped daily or everything gets covered in a layer of brown.

Our allowances don’t cover luxuries but for me a cleaner is a necessity that gives me more time to relax, exercise and keep in touch with home. I like to go with the old argument that you are contributing to the local economy and spreading moolah around. One friend here has a huge house shared by 5 adults, 3 children and requires around five hired help, each with specific tasks, from drivers to maids to cooks. In these larger households, each domestic aide has their specific duties and they operate to a clear pecking order. That’s a creation of one job per adult. Our landlady tells us it’s harder to get the staff these days. They want more money, they know they can get more and they take long periods of leave to visit their families back home in the rural areas of Uttar Pradesh, Bihar and Orissa to name but a few of the poorer states.

Our old cleaner was a cheeky 25 year old man-child. We thought he was about 17 until he said he had a wife and child. Trips to the bathroom meant you weren’t following him round the house. He would then miss out on the sweeping and wash the dirt round the floor instead. On the days he finished in 20 minutes flat you knew he had skipped on a few chores. The landlady would tell us we had to be firm with him and follow him around. They had known him since he was a teenager and use to work for them in Uttar Pradesh. Apparently since moving to Delhi he had been mixing with other cleaners and was no longer the obedient boy they once knew.

We’ve had a new cleaner for a month or so now. She is an older lady who chats away to me in Hindi that I only vaguely understand. She knows I don’t as I have a random vocabulary and little grammar. My responses when I do understand tend to be of the two word variety. Still she chats away and I love her for it. It’s much better than moody version one. We even giggle when she can’t get doors open as she is so slight. Mostly there seems to be a mutual respect that was woefully absent with the last light-fingered cleaner. He used to pick things up and look lovingly at them until told off and once it looked like he was trying to pinch a cell phone.

With our new cleaner it’s very simple. She cleans, we pay her. If she wants time off she gets it. I do my best to understand and shake my head apologetically when I don’t. If she needs something, she’ll say. After months of struggling with the other one it’s a relief that we have a cleaner who fulfils their part of the bargain and we are once again supporting a small part of the local economy.