Learning, changing, let's teach a class!

Two days ago, I taught English at Apne Aap for the first time. When I first spoke with Mahua Sur Ray (...the woman about whom I recently wrote an entire research paper...omigosh she actually exists...), I thought I would be helping with a class that already existed. She said that they had English classes on Monday and Tuesday, and that I could help with them if I liked. Not a big deal. Right?

Wrong.

I got to the Topsia center, and waited for about an hour (as usual, everything in India (with the exception of the Missionaries of Charity) seems to run an hour late, thank God I'm so Type B), and was then sent to the sewing lab with around seven young women. And two older Indian women, who would serve as my translators. This is when I first started feeling like something was a little strange. I don't speak Bangla. Zareen speaks English and Bangla. The young women speak Bangla. Why doesn't Zareen teach them English? I don't know. I'll get to that later.

So we sat down in a clump, and everyone looked at me. And I looked at Zareen for a moment, and said something like, "wait, am I teaching?" And she gave me the Indian-head-wobble, which means either yes, no, maybe, later, or anything in between. In this case, it meant "yes." Uhhhhhokay. So I asked her to translate for me, and spoke directly to the girls / young women (I think ages 16-22, maybe), and said "amar naam Ani." My name is Ani. Bangla. Step one. And they all smiled. And then I said, in English, "just as you are learning English, I am learning Bangla. So I know how it feels to learn something new. Please be patient with me as I learn." And *click*, connection panda. Awesome. So then I motioned for them to make a circle. Step two. Sit in a circle instead of a clump. Some of this memory is a little muddled, because I had to think very quickly, so I apologize if I write inaccurately. I grabbed a notebook and a bunch of pens from my bag, tore out paper, handed a piece of paper and a pen to everyone, and wrote my name in big, red crayon on a piece of notebook paper. In Bangla. And English. Ani. Once I figure out how to upload Bangla here, I'll do that. Promise. I asked them if they knew the English alphabet, and they all did. They'd learned it when they were little. So they all wrote their names, and we pronounced them back and forth.

Then I tore out another piece of paper, and asked them, with Zareen's help, if they knew any English. The group head-wobbled at me, this time meaning "no" or "maybe, but we're embarassed to try." I went with the latter. I think I'm getting better at head-wobble-speak. Then I smiled, and asked again if they knew any English words at all. Anything. This time, they threw out words seemingly at random. Car, bus, pen, water, cat, dog, lion, etc. We made animal noises for the animals to communicate understand beyond smiles and wobbles. That was fun. They reminded me a lot of me learning Spanish - words picked up from the street, from children, words that are fun to say, but really mean nothing useful - yo tengo una gato de fuego en mi corazon. I have a firecat in my heart. I water the lion bus.

I told them this was good, they knew a lot of English. And they all knew the alphabet. You are smart! You know much. I asked Zareen how much time we had left. Head-wobble. No idea what that meant. So I turned to the girls and said "let's learn something useful. Repeat after me." Zareen translated. Then "Bangla - kamon acho?" Repeated. "English - how are you?" Understanding. Further - "Bangla - ami bhalo achee." Repeated, certainty. They know this. "English - I am fine." Repeated, Indian tongues and teeth pronouncing English syllables. They copy my accent - the halfway between theirs and my real dialect, which has been lost somewhere on Sudder Street. I had them write both down - the Bangla in Bangla, the English in English, and I did the same. I explained, without Zareen's help now, which words matched up to which. Made sure they knew which letters matched with which. They knew that, shakily. Thank God I only have to reinforce the alphabet, rather than teach it from nothing. Then I asked them all, as a group, "kamon acho?" And they responded "ami bhalo achee" and giggled. Then, "how are you?" "I am fine." Applause. Then, with Zareen's help, I explained that we would, individually, turn the the woman to our right, and complete the exchange, in Bangla and English. I turned to Zareen. "Kamon acho?" "ami bhalo achee." "How are you?" "I am fine." And then Zareen to the next girl, and so on. And we went all the way around the circle, all of us in English and Bangla, practicing pronounciation. They learned quickly. Most had good pronounciation. My pronounciation. I had a few speak louder.

Somewhere in the midst of this, Zareen told me the girls had decided to call me "didi." Big sister. :-)

Then nine other girls came in, late, but on time if you're in India. So I introduced myself, checked how much English they knew, whether they knew the alphabet (they did!), had them write their names in Bangla and English, and ran them quickly through what I had just taught, while the other girls practiced writing "how are you" and "I am fine." Then I asked all the new girls to sit between the girls who had been there, so we alternated newer / older. And we went around the circle and did Bangla / English "how are you" again. By the same Bangla-English repeat, write, around-the-circle method, I taught "what is your name?" (apnar naam ki?) "my name is..." (amar naam...). And it went really, really well. And Zareen barely had to speak. And then I taught no (neh-hey) and yes (ha). And asked them at random what their names were and how they were. In English. And they responded, in English. Occasionally, they responded with "I am fine" to "what is your name," but not often.

After all of this (45 minutes? an hour? i don't know) I asked Zareen when we were finished. Head-wobble. Meaning "now, but take your time." Can I give them homework? Sure. Homework: decorate a namecard, using your name in English. Bring it with so I can learn your names. Also, collect five English words that you hear or see, from anywhere. Write them down. Know how to pronounce them. Know what they mean. Bring them with, and be ready to introduce them to the class. This should be easy, because you all know the alphabet, and there's English all over the city. Tik ache? Tik ache. Giggles, at the American casually using Bangla phrases at random. It's okay.

I decided that next week, I will teach them "it's okay," "where is the...," and some other phrases yet to be determined. I have until Monday to decide.

In the taxi on the way home, I exhaled. Something ridiculous had just happened. Originally, I was told I could help with the English class, if I liked. Then, I got thrown into a room of twenty young women who have clearly never taken an English class, and two older translators, who could clearly teach English if they wanted to. And then, teach.

Have I taught English before? Yes. ...English as a second language? Not even slightly. Did I say I wanted to help with the English class? ...yes. And honestly? That class went well. Really, really well. And it's not because I know how to teach English as a foreign language. I had no freaking idea what I was doing. Our God is an awesome God, and He was pretty specific about telling me to go teach English...so I'm just going to plan as much as I can for the next lesson, ask for advice, and go go go.

Also, class number two is in four days. And I'm gonna know a ton more Bangla by then. If any of you have advice on teaching a language, or on teaching in general, or on following God when I have no idea what I'm doing...yeah, that'd be appreciated.

Tik ache? Tik ache.

(Also, I ate Domino's pizza for dinner. Tomato, green pepper (called "capricum" here), corn. And Coke. Best. Comfort food. Ever.)