Although I am still dependent on my walker for mobility, I am able to get around quite proficiently and have learned several tricks for manoeuvring up and down stairs and through busy store aisles.
I was expecting to start my volunteer work teaching English the week of my accident, so I have been patiently waiting for the time to come when I could get started.
Last week, I decided I was ready for the trip to the school and then an hour on one leg teaching my first lesson.
I will admit I was more nervous preparing to teach the children than I ever was addressing a room full of adults because I know children don’t hold back. If you are doing a poor job they will tell you, usually immediately and without mincing words.
It has been a great help having Gwen as a resource for planning my class time. She helped me with what ideas would work and which would fail, either due to lack of understanding or interest, and so I set off with my laptop loaded with songs and stories and headed to the school.
The government schools in India are unlike any I have seen before. The building is old and small with only six rooms, one for each grade of one through five and an office.
There are 206 students currently attending grade school here and five classrooms each with only one teacher.
The Grade 2 class has 62 students. Grades 1 through 3 do not have desks; only grades 4 and 5 are given this privilege.
The early grades spend their day seated on a concrete floor with a wooden clipboard to be able to write on their single issue scribbler. The shared class library has only a half dozen books for students to read.
English is not formally taught until Grade 4, which is why volunteers come in and spend some time teaching the younger students.
The children are supplied a school uniform consisting of a blouse or shirt and either shorts or a skirt, and I would have to assume by the faded look they are given only one set.
After a brief discussion with the kindly head mistress, I hopped up two double flights of stairs to my classroom using the railing and my walker for balance, all the while with the 90-pound worried headmistress right behind me thinking she would be able to stop my fall should I lose footing and go over backwards.
As I approached the class entrance, the students immediately stopped their work, stood in unison and greeted me with a loud “Good morning, sir.”
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I spent the first few minutes doing an introduction of myself and talking about Canada, using the teacher for some interpreting. The class listened, wide-eyed and intent, as I spoke about snow and negative temperatures.
We started our lesson on body parts using stories and charts. As I hung the chart on the wall, I realized it was the only wall art up in the entire room. No pictures, drawings or letters of any sort to brighten the classroom.
Halfway through the lesson, it was time to do a song about body parts, and what better song than the Hokey Pokey.
Now this was a new thing to the class and when I played the song the first time for them to watch and learn, they were huddled up to the laptop about a foot from the screen. All 33 students were in a four-foot radius.
The second playing of the song was the time for them to dance and sing along and as my mentor had told me prior, “If you want the students to participate, you must give 100 per cent and sell the activity”.
So I spread them out and moved to the middle of the class with my walker and proceeded to dance the Hokey Pokey on one leg, and to my enjoyment they all joined in and attempted to follow the actions and words as best they could.
Little did I know that the head mistress was at the doorway taping our performance.
Our next song was Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes on a loop that went faster with each verse.
Again balancing on one leg, I lead them through our routine and had everyone laughing – I think mostly at how hard it was for me to keep my balance.
We finished the lesson with a relaxing question-and-answer session and I was pleasantly surprised at how well they remembered what we had worked on.
I announced that it was time for me to go and they all again stood in unison and chorused, “Thank you, sir” and then they rushed me with hands stretched out for a handshake.
I am sure they were moving from one end of the line to the other because I think I did about 75 handshakes.
One boy asked to carry my backpack down stairs for me and another my walker. They waited at each landing to ensure I was good and then moved down another flight of stairs.
At the bottom foyer of the school, the younger students were already eating their school-supplied lunch, which consists daily of white rice and dal, which is a lentil soup.
I was again attacked by several youngsters who I did not teach, but wanted a handshake goodbye.
This was probably one of the most rewarding experiences I have ever had. I am definitely looking forward to next week and our lesson together.
Quesnel residents Brad and Gwen Bryant are living and working in India.