Hello Dear Readers!

Sorry, for the long wait.  I have decided to make the titles of future blog posts, Cultural Allusions.  Today’s title is designed to resemble the titles of Friends’ Episodes.  (i.e. the One where Joey ate spoiled cheese, etc).   Also, I am going to try to translate this blog into Hindi as a challenge to myself.

Since my last blog, we’ve settled into our temporary homes and began some of our educational efforts.  As my exceptional and amazing partner Ann Chou has previously written on the Beyond Traditional Borders Blog, we are teaching a 4 week career guidance class that will include supplements on finance, mathematics, and health before culminating in a healthy scholarship contest for 3-4 lucky students.

However, this workshop will not begin until the students have finished classes and “writing exams” (British terminology) in approximately 2 weeks.  Therefore, we were in theory without anything to do.  Wary of idleness, Ann and I decided to visit Masianokeng High School, acquaint ourselves with the faculty, and put ourselves to their service.

We met Principal Chimombe and Jane who were both gracious, hospitable, and a multitude of other beneficent adjectives that I do not have the time to write down because I have limited bandwidth.  They agreed to allow Ann and I to serve as teaching assistants.   So next day, we rolled in and came in on Friday, ready to start.  However, we were sort of taken aback because we were first sent to the woodworking class…

As some of you may know,  I am not known for my considerable kinesthetic skills, to put it mildly.  When my dad asked me to mess with cars or mechanical tools when I was younger, I would just tell him it was boring and go read a book somewhere.   Probably Star Wars or Animorphs.  These were the days before Mrs. Rowling released her masterpiece of Harry Potter after all.  But I digress.   Therefore, it was with no slight amount of trepidation, that I headed over to the woodworking class.  I was of the opinion that inadequacy in woodworking efforts would definitely undermine the classroom atmosphere of magisterial respect that I hoped to have when we began teaching.

Thanks be to Khuda that it was a review day.  Therefore, Ann and I decided to just answer the woodworking students’ questions before meeting with the math teacher later in the day.   It was quite a commotion.  We answered questions about the US (we’re from TX), how much it is to fly to the US (almost 16,000 Maloti), and what we would be doing (a career guidance camp).   Still newly arrived to Lesotho, I was glad that Ann’s enthusiasm and vivacity were so tangible that they allayed my own fears.  We found the math material that we would use for our course, met with the teachers, and waded headlong into Lesotho’s classrooms.

We found ourselves in Form E (11th gradish).  In this class, the students were I would say, more interested in us, than what we had to offer.  Uncertain as to how to proceed, we opened the floor to questions.  It is amusing how curious they were.  I was asked how old Barack Obama was (47, Ann better be glad that I was along), if I had a g/f (sadly no), and if I’d met Beyonce (another sad no).

One of our first educational questions was on factoring.  I appreciate now how difficult it is to impart theoretical knowledge.  We showed them, and I can only hope that somewhere between our American accents and their previous math educations the knowledge arrived.

However, besides this, the students wanted to learn about us and the cultures we brought.  Therefore, we obliged.  Ann taught them how to say hello in Chinese and Spanish (Ni Hau and Ola); I in Arabic and Hindi (Salaam and Namaste).  Then….it got a bit more interesting.

They wanted us to sing for them.  Believe it or not, they really really enjoy hip hop and R and B.  Apparently, Chris Brown is one of their favorites, judging by the roar of sound that almost knocked me backwards  when I mentioned his name.  So….I sang With You, attempting to channel Chris Brown with all my strength.  At the end of the performance, I punched Ann in the face to complete the imitation.  (Obviously…I am kidding!  Rihanna joke anyone?)

It was, I would say, not the best rendition that I could have given; my voice quavered at times from nervousness; I forgot the lyrics at some points.  But I think it is safe to say they liked it 🙂    It was an excellent reminder of the common threads that bind us.  Music is a phenomenon that everyone can appreciate:  from the lowliest beggar to the highest Emperor.  It is also one that helps connect us across cultures:  every civilization has evolved a form of music, seeking to instill the passion of their collective experiences into the echoes of the ages.  A symphony of the soul, a link to the divine, a reminder that out of our cacophonies of languages, skins, religions, and ethnic groups we are one people who each deserve to realize our rights to life and happiness as humans.

Woo.. Deep stuff to get into from Chris Brown.  I did warn you reader about how I was prone to shifts in mood.  Anyway, continuing…

The students showed off their own talents then.  They did a more traditional looking dance, performed a pretty awesome Cha-Cha esque dance, and finally rapped.  The guy who was rapping was pretty ridiculously legit.

The period over, we headed over to another class.  As we walked in we glanced at the board and saw the words “Africans like sex and nicetime.”  I must admit I thought “What the hell?” in my head.  However, it was just a European History classroom that was relating Imperialist stereotypes of African culture in the 18th century.  Which explains a lot, but the word “nice time” is hillllarious.   Anyway, we answered questions on the nervous system, the structure of the atom, balancing chemical equations, acids/bases….I could go on and on.

Overall, it was a fulfilling and productive day.  The students’ English is sufficiently functional, better than some kids at Horace Mann Middle School I’d say…I am anxiously awaiting the beginning of our new classes with a mix of emotions, 99% anticipation, 1% fear (solely because I worry that I will not live up the responsibilities set to me).

Happy from our successful day, we hit the gym.  I am happy to say that I have been fairly succesful recently in sticking to my newly acquired routine, though I miss my gym buddies of yester year (David Ouyang, Dillon Eng, ALEX WU, RAVI SHAH, yeah that’s you guys (and I suppose the occasional Chris Fan and Mukund Premkumar)).  After that, Ann and I went with Amit and Robby to THE SKETCHIEST CHINESE RESTAURANT IN THE WORLD.

I am not kidding.  This restaurant could not be more sketchy if it was made by some kind of street artist.  (bad joke about sketches).  Anyway, it was in the industrial part of town.  There were no lights in the complex.  And people were burning a pile of rubbish in front of it.  It said “Peace Chinese Restaurant” in dingy font, and you had to press a button the door, before a little Chinese man would furtively open it and lead you past a store interior into the restaurant backroom…

The food was however pretty good and a welcome taste of familiar things.

Finally, the next day Amit, Robby, and I climbed a mountain. It was extremely intimidating, with few made trails and high altitude.  I slipped a couple of times.  Luckily, I’m not dead.

Anyway, I shall narrate a fair amount of semi- hilarious moments that happened this week.  Most of them concern Ann.

1. When we were at Masianokeng, a student asked Ann a question.  She answered it, and he KOWTOWD to her.  You know the kowtow?  Like the Asian bow where you bow your head deep down in a sign of like obedience to authority.  She was taken aback, and I burst out laughing.  I can’t tell whether he was trying to be culturally sensitive or insensitive.  Regardless, it was funny.

2. When Ann was walking along, some students asked her how she could see through her “small” eyes. (wow…on sensitivity students)

3. During question and answer session, some students asked me if Ann and I were MARRIED.  Awkward, especially given other things.  They also thought Ann and I were 27…  Really?  I guess people have trouble guestimating Race with different ages.

4. People in Lesotho seem to think i’m Pakistani or Bangladeshi consistently.  I was walking to the girls’ house, and I kept hearing someone scream SALAAM from their house.  I didn’t know what to do, and they could tell that I was avoiding their gaze because they just started screaming louder.  I wanted to scream walaykum asalaam just to make them stop.

5. When we were at the Chinese restaurant, we were unsure as to how big the portions were.  Amit, Ann, and I were arguing about whether we could share.  Ann exclaimed, “it says it’s big enough for 3 people!”  And I was like “uh no it doesn’t…”   Ann glanced down at the menu to show me up, and said “see look here!”  Then, she realized that it was in Chinese, which as you know, Amit and I could not read…:)

6. Amit, Robby, and I were searching for paper towels at the grocery store (Shoprite).  Unable to find them, we decided to inquire as to their whereabouts from a local friendly employee.  He, however, didn’t seem to understand much English.  As we mimed “paper towels” and repeated the word again, his eyes registered a spark of recognition and he led us to….the women’s products aisle…We weren’t interested in THAT type of absorbence…

Anyway, I wish you well reader.  I hope your life is proceeding smoothly.

-Karthik