Wednesday 22nd, last day of the seminar, today we put much emphasis on adapting foreign material and production. They have experienced themselves how much easier it is to learn when one is motivated and respected and the hot feedbacks reflect it. They see the point of creating a pleasant environment for the learning to take place and they want to put into practice the new ideas and new approach.
They perform the microteaching in groups and it’s immensely gratifying to see them enjoying the art of teaching so much. The lessons are lively and although not perfectly structured or logic, the teachers are really absorbed to the point of becoming one with the subject. They sing and clap and play and correct mistakes without nominating and invent and take risks. I am so proud of them all. I am reminded of Albert Einstein’s quote : ‘Learning is experience, everything else is just information’.
Earlier this morning Rajesh passed by to check whether my name was spelled correctly for the certificates. ‘What certificates?’ I asked alarmed. I had made it clear before coming that I am not a qualified trainer and that I was just sharing my knowledge and experience with them. Rajesh indicated agreement by rocking his head slightly to one side and then back the other way, as it is the custom. And now I have them in front of me, a pile of official looking certificates showing the blanc space above my name for my signature to blossom. Yes, you’ve guessed right, it reads ‘trainer’. That’s another feature of Nepalese culture: they have a huge desire to please and will tell you whatever they think you want to hear!
But the principal and other big fish are waiting and I sign the certificates.
Then come the speeches, the academic ceremony and the farewell. A traditional Newari shawl is wrapped around me, I’m given a sukunda or brass lantern used in rituals such as weddings and rice-feeding ceremony (when the baby is given its first solid food), a lady dips her thumb in a plate of crimson tikka powder and touches my forehead leaving a lovely third eye on it that glows intense red for the rest of the day.
After our last shared meal we all go home feeling we have achieved something. It is by no means enough and will never measure up to the gigantic challenges that developing countries face today. But at least it is something.
Back at the host family, the telephone rings, it’s my husband who wants to know how everything went. There’s just one phone in the house and it’s placed in the family’s multiple purpose room. Doors open and people call me ‘ Marinaa, phooone!’ and as I climb up the flight of stairs they follow me to the room and they encircle me watching with curiosity, listening to the telephone conversation and smiling. Nepalese people do not clean their household equipment, if they want to preserve it from dust, they just wrap the apparatus in transparent cut off plastic bags. This adds a degree of difficulty to the already complicated scenario. But it’s fun and I tell him that over here it’s ‘extremely cosy and friendly’.
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