Good morning, Ma'am

I'll be 24 in five days. Does that make me officially old enough to be called "ma'am"? This is how every child (and fellow faculty) greets me and says good bye and ends basically every sentence. It's sort of adorable when a five year old says it with a huge smile on their face, but it just sort of makes me giggle when a seventeen-year-old does it. It makes me feel old. Actually, sometimes they have to say it more than once to me because I forget that I'm a "ma'am."

I've just finished my first, hectic week teaching English at the Carman School in Dehradun. All the classes are taught in English, which I wonder if it's the most effective way for the students to learn. I definitely commend their efforts though. The principles of Physics and Economics are difficult enough on their own. I can't imagine adding the complication of learning them in a foreign language. Most of the students (and the teachers) seem to rely on pure memorization of the concepts, not comprehension. For their tests, which they've been taking this week, they basically regurgatate memorized sentences or facts. But if you push them further to explain what it means, they have no idea, in English or in Hindi.

The school day itself is a whirlwind that seems to mirror life in general in India--loud, hot, overcrowded, and lots of jostling, but with a smile on everyone's face. The students of each grade sit in their designated classrooms while the teachers shuffle from room to room. Although most of the students are extremely bright, studious and polite outside of the classroom, they pay little attention to their teachers or give much respect to other students during classtime. One student even told me that they never do the work the teacher says to do in class. They just talk and do it later. The other teachers seem to have little control over the class and resort to a lot of yelling and scolding, but they're quite nice outside of the class. I've made a lot of friends already. The power goes out frequently--I would estimate at least five times per day. I've sat with students in very poorly lit rooms while they try to read, and I can't tell if they're right or not because I can't see the page myself.

Carman is a residential and day school, although the majority of the students are day students. I live in the senior dorm with ten girls, all about high school age. Ah, I have forgotten how much fun and overdramatic it is to be a teenager. Last night there seemed to be quite a lot of drama with one of the girls, and because most of the discussions were in Hindi, I don't really know exactly what the situation is, but as near as I can tell, the Brenda of the group is getting voted off the island. The girls are great though, with lots of interesting questions and I really enjoy chatting with them about their lives in India and sharing my American ways. I spend lots of time in the junior dorm as well with their resident advisor, Anu (my new friend...yea, I finally have friends!), and the younger girls, who are so loving and open and probably the cutest things I've ever seen, even though some of them can only tell me over and over "My name is Disha." And of course, "Good Morning, Ma'am."