<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893</id><updated>2011-07-08T07:17:38.002-04:00</updated><category term='The Big Day is here'/><title type='text'>Teaching in India</title><subtitle type='html'>I am the recipient of a Fulbright Teaching Exchange Fellowship.  I will be spending 6 months in Indore, India, teaching Chemistry at the Daly College.  How lucky does one get?!

“ This website is not an official U.S. Department of State website. The views and information presented are the grantee's own and do not represent the Fulbright Program or the U.S. Department of State.”</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>44</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-205665901595607648</id><published>2010-01-04T23:37:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T23:58:44.776-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Farewell Daly College!</title><content type='html'>135 days ago I arrived at Daly College and that very first morning in the morning assembly, Mr. Singh, after introducing me to you, asked if I wanted to say a few words. With much trepidation I made a promise to you to make every moment of my stay with you count. And 135 days later I am here to tell you that I did. The lessons that I learned are far more than what I have taught you. I am leaving DC much richer than I have come. I have seen a method of teaching that is so drastically different from the one I know.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone asks: “Which method is better?” At first I was at a loss for word to answer that question. But now after this short time at your institution, I can answer categorically not one is better than the other. In America we encourage strongly the individual development of the child. In India, you follow a very prescribed curriculum which gives a very strong base to the child. A balance between the two would be the ideal. I hope Mrs. Badhwar and I, as we go back into our respective teaching world, are able to find this balance. My task will be easier than hers because America is so open to new ideas that they will welcome what I have to bring. Remember, we are a much younger system than you are!&lt;br /&gt;I want to end by saying thank you to All at Daly College.&lt;br /&gt;M. Singh, the Principal. M. Potty and all the administrative Staff. Thank you for making the transition so easy.&lt;br /&gt;All the teachers who have made me feel so welcome.&lt;br /&gt;The student body, your “Good Morning, Mam!” will be with me forever.&lt;br /&gt;The custodian, cafeteria staff for all their help.&lt;br /&gt;M. Chouhan and Nahran, you will be sorely missed on lab days!&lt;br /&gt;And now, this is where I hope I don’t break down: Mrs. Karr, Mr Moyde, Mam Kirti, Neera, Madhouri, our sessions around the huge desk in the chemistry lab are the dearest moments of my stay in DC. Thank You!!&lt;br /&gt;We have a saying in Miami “Mi casa es tu casa”. Remember if ever anyone of you comes to Florida, “My Home is your Home.” You have an Old Dalian in Miami, after all!&lt;br /&gt;Now, if I may, I have a few slides of my school in Miami I’d like to share with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are my final words to the student body at morning assembly. I have to concentrate on the joy of seeing the family State side again to make leaving this "family" easier! When I left in August, I knew I would be seeing them again. Now, I don't know if I ever will see the Daly Community again! Another Fulbrighter had a beautiful thought on her blog.  I am quoting her: "When you leave someone’s home in South India, it is customary to say “Poitu varain,” which is Tamil for, “I will go and come back.” In return, your host responds, “Poitu vanga,” meaning, “Please go and come back.”" Isn't that a much better way of parting with friends?!  So, India "Till we meet again."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-205665901595607648?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/205665901595607648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2010/01/farewell-daly-college.html#comment-form' title='36 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/205665901595607648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/205665901595607648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2010/01/farewell-daly-college.html' title='Farewell Daly College!'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>36</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-6367554415034514075</id><published>2009-12-31T09:28:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T02:13:56.530-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Be the Change!</title><content type='html'>Last day of the year. Last day at the ashram in Rishikesh. I feel this bring about the first leg of my return HOME! I leave at 4 AM by taxi to Haridwar, then the train to Delhi and in the evening return to Indore where the mad rush of packing my last 5 months in India into two suitcases.&lt;br /&gt;Today was a good day. I started out the day assisting a lecture given by a guru at the ashram where the Beatles stayed so, so long ago. Something Swami Dharmanandaji said helped me solve a little of the "Indian Code" that has been puzzling me so much. Don Miguel Ruiz in "The Four Agreements" says in his first agreement "Be impeccable with your word." For a people that is so deeply religious, I could not understand how can Indians be so casual with their words. Many instances where they say one thing and next thing you know they do something totally different. And they never give you the impression of being sorry or ashamed of going back on their agreement with you. Well, the guru said, in India, feeling of guilt does not exist which would then explain why they can change their word on you without feeling any sense of remorse. When I got back home I intended to write some choice words to the management of the hotel where we stayed Laurence, Kahlil and I a couple of weeks ago, for going back on their words without any excuse to us. I realize now, I can save my time! It won't change anything.&lt;br /&gt;After the lecture, I walked over again to Lucksman Jhula for coffee, met a couple of Italians who are also staying at the same ashram and we had a nice discussion on this idea of guilt that we catholics know so well how to harbor!! Can we find a balance?! That would be the ideal!&lt;br /&gt;Tonight at the aarti, Swamiji, the Guru at the Ashram where I've been staying, for the first time during his homily, said a few words in English! Joy, I could finally understand what he was saying! I am paraphrasing here but basically he said, as you are leaving the Ganga, remember to observe yourself first, don't look at others and what they are doing. Talking of the New Year, he said "Be the Change" and don't look at others. These words went straight to my heart, and I thought that would be a great focus for the New Decade!! Now, a day or so ago, a friend on FaceBook was talking about New Year's Resolution and suggested that we should write it down, not just talk about it. So here and now, Telio, I am writing down MY New Year's resolution "Be the Change". This is not going to be just part of my email signature, but also part of my being. In small ways or big. Whatever comes. No looking at what the other is doing. Just what can I do to make this world a better place for me and those around me. Sometimes it will be hard Sometimes I will falter. I will remember then to not beat myself to the ground, but try as best I can to make amends and pick up from there.&lt;br /&gt;OK, more to tell, but it is late and I am freezing!!&lt;br /&gt;There are just three hours left of 2009! It was a good one. It brought me to India where I learned a lot and grew for the better, I think. Mildred said of 2010 "Son equilibre mathematique a comme une promesse." Isn't that beautifully said?! So, wishing all of you a beautiful 2010!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-6367554415034514075?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/6367554415034514075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/be-change.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/6367554415034514075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/6367554415034514075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/be-change.html' title='Be the Change!'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-5408833689083128807</id><published>2009-12-29T09:17:00.015-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T02:09:16.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One starfish at a time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At a cafe in Lakshman Jhula, a stone throw away from Rishikesh, where I spent Christmas eve, a group of four young rich, hippy looking Americans just had latte, carrot cake, spinach and corn sandwich, fruit and nut cookies, brownies, mineral water. Why the list of what they ate?... to show they have not only cheese on their bread but also ham (figuratively this one of course, in the Abode of Gods!) As I sit inside having my double espresso (heaven, folks!... still not Bustello! and certainly not a Pantal's cup!) and carrot cake I watch them leave. Outside the door is an old beggar woman so emaciated, you could see through her. She touches their elbows, as they pass, her hand outstretched asking for a few rupees. One of them brush her away, the others walk by not even seeing her. And it strikes me. I do it too. Most of us do it. What motivates us to pass by this immense poverty without any emotion, pity, sadness, disgust, outrage, anger... whatever... something. How can we turn away so readily? How can we not see it? Are we pretending? Do we feel it is not our problem? Do we feel too powerless? So it's been, so it will always be. Whoa! A very well-off Indian I met with whom I was discussing this issue told me, "Don't worry about it, Isabelle. India has plenty food to feed its people." Is that so? I've seen food lines in Rishikesh. But also I see hundreds of people lining up the streets asking for a few rupees of passer-bys.&lt;br /&gt;It is overwhelming here. I feel a weight on my shoulders that is overbearing. There is no putting it down. My favorite quote which I am very hard trying to make my motto "Be the change". What can I do to make a change in this world? Not have that second cup of coffee? What will that accomplish? Give the 30 Rs. or so to the old woman? And then?... Remember the "forward" (I am sure most of you received!) about an old man on a beach with thousands of starfish (or was it turtles?) that were stranded on the sand and he was throwing them back in the ocean one at a time. A passerby asked him what difference what he was doing made with so many to save. He wisely replied as he threw one starfish back in the water "It makes a difference to this one!" The deal here is, you give this one old lady 10 Rs. and you are soon surrounded by 10 outstretched hands! See, here I go already finding excuses!... One outstretched hand at a time, Isabelle!&lt;br /&gt;Eight more days in India, then back in Miami in my pretty pink house with the well manicured lawn in the nice neighborhood where no old lady with an outstretched hand will come in my path. But in my mind's eyes she'll always be there. Because she is not only here in India, she is in Haiti certainly, in Paris (remember, Mildred, the lady in the train the day I arrived last January?) and of course in Miami too, somewhere I'll find her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BAGmZJxfI/AAAAAAAAAKI/of_kBWc9Epg/s1600-h/IMG_4130.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422404433483515378" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BAGmZJxfI/AAAAAAAAAKI/of_kBWc9Epg/s200/IMG_4130.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BAG3B7uKI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/Brw51UqT-wI/s1600-h/India+17+Rishikesh+018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422404437949528226" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BAG3B7uKI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/Brw51UqT-wI/s200/India+17+Rishikesh+018.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;This earth has to find a way to feed its people decently. H.H. Pujya Swami Chidanand Saraswatiji, the Guru at this ashram says the solution to poverty is for the whole world to become vegetarian (you hear that, Kap?!) He suggested at the next summit they serve all veg meals!! I think his take is that there is room everywhere to grow all the foods we might need to feed everyone, and as vegetarians we will be in better harmony with each other! Nice idea (and I crassly add, "after my fillet mignon when I get back home!!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-5408833689083128807?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/5408833689083128807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/one-starfish-at-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/5408833689083128807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/5408833689083128807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/one-starfish-at-time.html' title='One starfish at a time'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BAGmZJxfI/AAAAAAAAAKI/of_kBWc9Epg/s72-c/IMG_4130.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-3844142377971609059</id><published>2009-12-27T08:34:00.021-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T03:10:21.906-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My traveling companion</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BPEDYJg-I/AAAAAAAAALI/e4VTX9DTCDI/s1600-h/IMG_3921.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422420882398741474" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BPEDYJg-I/AAAAAAAAALI/e4VTX9DTCDI/s200/IMG_3921.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Kahlil is gone back home. I miss him. I miss him. But when I tell you this trip to Rishikesh was a divine intervention... Not only for me but for him too! There isn't a meal that passes by that I don't thank God he isn't with me. You see, we weren't in Indore a week that Kahlil had discovered ALL the non-veg restaurants in town! He had a slew of rickshaw drivers at his beck and call to take him to this or that restaurant. For those of you wondering why would I be so glad he is not here with me, well, for the very simple fact that there is not ONE single place in the state of Uttarakhand, or the Abode of Gods as it is also called, can one find ANY non-veg place to eat! I don't even think they understand the concept! So Kahlil would have had a little problem! His request to Sole and Taro and Antoine was to have a bucket of chicken wings from "Sports Grill" upon his arrival at the airport!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, so in the gastronomy department Kahlil would have been rather unhappy. Otherwise, he would have loved it! I have to divert my eyes to all advertisements for white water rafting I pass by. Now that I am a pro at back motorbike riding (I am sure there is no such term, but you get the picture, right?!!) &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BGxkaqhAI/AAAAAAAAAKg/7v42KU-hdRo/s1600-h/IMG_3527.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422411768757126146" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BGxkaqhAI/AAAAAAAAAKg/7v42KU-hdRo/s200/IMG_3527.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; we would have rented a bike for the whole 10 days! (A 100 Rs. a day, folks! that's about $22 for the duration !-)&lt;br /&gt;How was it with Kap for the 4 months here with me? He was the PERFECT companion! A couple of days before he left we were making a bilan of our time here and decided it had been a 97%! For the sake of decency I won't discuss the 3% that wasn't good and it was a trivial point. I feel myself blessed in this son of mine. Even our disagreements were good because they taught me faces of him that are not bad just different from mine. Kahlil had just enough independence that I didn't feel his weight at all. He did his things, I did mine. When we were to be together it was most of the times joyful (except some of the school activities that we had to attend, and even then he gave most of the times most gracefully, and shopping, that a little less gracefully!) Nothing was a problem for Kahlil. Going to the bank to get money for us, get dinner at Wady, dental floss at Treasure Island... no problem! Just jump in his pants, make a call to his auto buddies and off he goes. Eggs and chips across the street at night for dinner, no problem! A last minute trip to Daddy's Kitchen, no problem!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BPCUjFylI/AAAAAAAAAKo/sSsM7exruqw/s1600-h/IMG_3115.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422420852648299090" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BPCUjFylI/AAAAAAAAAKo/sSsM7exruqw/s200/IMG_3115.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BPCypmseI/AAAAAAAAAKw/K39u7VEe3jU/s1600-h/IMG_3138.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422420860728685026" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BPCypmseI/AAAAAAAAAKw/K39u7VEe3jU/s200/IMG_3138.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BPD57ZmHI/AAAAAAAAALA/N39B12WF-qM/s1600-h/IMG_3182.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422420879862241394" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BPD57ZmHI/AAAAAAAAALA/N39B12WF-qM/s200/IMG_3182.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BPDHnB8uI/AAAAAAAAAK4/5Rc2UouydU8/s1600-h/IMG_3161.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422420866355032802" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BPDHnB8uI/AAAAAAAAAK4/5Rc2UouydU8/s200/IMG_3161.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had great talks. He never complained, nor wanted more than what he had. I loved the way he loved his volunteer job at the Barli Institute. He loved the workers. He spoke fondly of them. We had great laughs together. The second look that we got in the streets was a source of myrth for us! We loved trying to decide which one of us had provoked it, him or I. We kept each other sane when the realities of India were too overwhelming. We were HOME for each other. I have one hope, that he lost some of his shyness in this trip. And I think he did. And I have one regret!&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BGxTrJhcI/AAAAAAAAAKY/RSj5RxNdJyk/s1600-h/IMG_1383.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422411764262864322" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BGxTrJhcI/AAAAAAAAAKY/RSj5RxNdJyk/s200/IMG_1383.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He came to India an occasional smoker and found cigarettes so cheap here he left a much heavier smoker! Ha! Ha! You knew I wouldn't miss this one, Kap!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I love you and I am grateful for you!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-3844142377971609059?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/3844142377971609059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-traveling-companion.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/3844142377971609059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/3844142377971609059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-traveling-companion.html' title='My traveling companion'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BPEDYJg-I/AAAAAAAAALI/e4VTX9DTCDI/s72-c/IMG_3921.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-605174126273123201</id><published>2009-12-25T08:27:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T08:41:08.118-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another First</title><content type='html'>In 28 years of marriage with Pantal, this is the first Christmas we are apart!  ...and I tell you it is not a good first!  It is not that it was horrible, but it was not Christmas!  I have to reiterate again and again, it was a divine inspiration for me to do something so totally out of my normal life, coming here to this ashram.  I really just went the whole day never allowing myself to think it was Christmas.  Some people wished me a Merry Christmas, I just pretended they were saying "Have a nice day" or something trivial like this.  I can not imagine the soldiers onerseas who are so far away from their loved ones in horrible circumstances.  I have a new respect for them.  For me, I can say 13 days over and over again and know it will be over soon.  How do they do it?... Mr. President, bring our troops HOME!&lt;br /&gt;OK, loved one, let's not do this again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-605174126273123201?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/605174126273123201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/another-first.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/605174126273123201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/605174126273123201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/another-first.html' title='Another First'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-4104621750722042558</id><published>2009-12-25T01:28:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T00:39:07.823-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Christmas not like any other!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0AqFZFqr2I/AAAAAAAAAJw/g2mpPRCa-Bc/s1600-h/IMG_4113.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422380223476445026" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0AqFZFqr2I/AAAAAAAAAJw/g2mpPRCa-Bc/s200/IMG_4113.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;My Christmas Eve this year was spent with a group of strangers. It was one beautiful experience. But a side story first! While waiting for the film to start I went down to a cafe on the first floor to have a coffee. A couple is sitting at the table next to mine. The young woman says hello and tells me she was in my yoga class in the morning. Immediately I recognized her! The "Perfect Headstand", I exclaimed! I tell you folks, she could put the lady at the beach in Auroville to shame any day of the week and twice on Sunday (I love that expression! Who said that?... in a movie, romantic, male...?! It will come back!) She came out of that headstand in the most perfect child pose! She was next to me in class and as I can only do "foot stand" ;-( I had plenty of time to watch her elegantly execute her headstand. I remember thinking very foolishly at the time "I will do this one day." I didn't tell her this of course, lest she thinks me a complete lunatic after my performance in class that morning!! Well, she was kind enough to be encouraging and tell me that she was doing yoga two years before she was able to do a headstand. To be so kind, she deserves to do it so well!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;So, revenons a nos moutons! So a group of young people who have a yoga school in the town next to mine, decided to have a Christmas celebration of sort by showing a movie called "How Jesus became Christ", offering some chai and cookies, and a sort of meditation called "spiral meditation". To get to Lakshman Jhula, I had to get a taxi called a "jeep" for 5 Rs. I was told. I ended up paying 20 because what I did not understand was that the jeep has to be full with 10 passengers for each one to pay 5 Rs.! Only in India! (Well, maybe not!) It was only a 3 minute drive from Rishikesh. (So tomorrow morning I am actually going to go back to have a cup of REAL coffee at the Indian version of Starbucks, that I saw!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;First we watch the movie. Very interesting film made by an Irish priest, named Miceal Ledwith. He was a professor of Systematic Theology for sixteen years, and the president of Maynooth College in Ireland for ten years. Just what I needed, another one out there trying to answer the big question about Christ and the universe and our role in it. The portion of his research that we viewed had to do with the years in Christ' life between 12 and 30. Very interesting the comparisons he makes between Christ teachings and all the other Masters, Buddha, Krishna... He makes some interesting point and I would recommend watching the movie anyone interested.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;After the movie, we had a chai and cookie break then came the meditation. We were 24 total. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0AqE5m5BgI/AAAAAAAAAJo/4R08YZjjCFw/s1600-h/IMG_4111.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422380215025862146" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0AqE5m5BgI/AAAAAAAAAJo/4R08YZjjCFw/s200/IMG_4111.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Everyone was arranged in a spiral in order of the sign of the Zodiac, and holding hands of the persons next to you, we were asked to close our eyes and visualize a picture of Jesus in our mind and with the most soothing and powerful music ever, we stayed like that for what must have been 20 or 30 minutes! Can you imagine standing without any movement eyes closed for 20 minutes? Well we all did it without realizing the time pass. It was really incredible. The image I had the whole time was one of a Puppet of Jesus in a show Sole and Kahlil used to do at Saint John Neuman "Let the Children come"! And I swear to you everyone, the kids were right there with me in that room. In the beginning I had tears running down my face like Peligre (long long ago when there was water there!) and then I just felt great and sort of enjoyed their "presence".&lt;br /&gt;After the meditation, We just sat in a circle and introduce ourselves. That's when I found out eight of us were celebrating Christmas for the first time in their lives! We discussed the movie for a while. One young man had his doubt about miracles. I pointed out to him that just the fact that this weird group of people gathered here on Christmas Eve was a small miracle in itself, it doesn't have to be a walk on water for it to be a miracle. I told everyone the story of the prayer I found on Meli's FaceBook page that she had posted on August 4th, the day of Evna's birthday. That was a miracle. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0AqEj_8AJI/AAAAAAAAAJg/saV5ee7ib4E/s1600-h/IMG_4114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 175px; HEIGHT: 127px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422380209225334930" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0AqEj_8AJI/AAAAAAAAAJg/saV5ee7ib4E/s200/IMG_4114.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then we had a gift exchange. On the announcement posted on the walls they had asked everyone to bring a small gift to exchange. I received a marble cut owl which is a symbol of wisdom! Nice, ne?! There was an American newlywed couple on their honeymoon in India. We were the three from America. The woman had left for a minute as we were picking numbers for the exchange. "Santa" said he would pick a number for her. As he was going to, someone said "wait, here she comes". He puts the number back in his hat and she picks her own number. She ended up getting the present her husband had brought! Now how is that for a "coincidence"!&lt;br /&gt;The evening ended with lots of laughter and hugs.&lt;br /&gt;...well, not quite for me! But I have to go. The aarti is starting. I hear the music.&lt;br /&gt;Will tell the story of how I got home in the morning. (I'll tell the story in the morning, I didn't get home in the morning!!!) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-4104621750722042558?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/4104621750722042558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-not-like-any-other.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/4104621750722042558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/4104621750722042558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-not-like-any-other.html' title='A Christmas not like any other!'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0AqFZFqr2I/AAAAAAAAAJw/g2mpPRCa-Bc/s72-c/IMG_4113.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-809190583300898245</id><published>2009-12-25T00:08:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T03:48:09.341-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Prayers</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BWcsVisBI/AAAAAAAAALg/0ZhSIaFJLas/s1600-h/India+14+162.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422429002291916818" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BWcsVisBI/AAAAAAAAALg/0ZhSIaFJLas/s200/India+14+162.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt; In a country where gods come by the lacks, I find myself often questioning my relationship with God (Thank God we only have ONE to contend with!!!)! The other day at a temple in Mumbai, as I watch some women praying and going through all the rituals they have here, somehow I couldn't bring myself to join them. Not just because I didn't know the proper gestures, but because my relationship with God is a strange one. One, I feel totally and completely grateful and thankful for everything I know and everything I have. And I always send prayers of gratitude to Him. On the other hand, I don't feel I have the right to ask Him for anything. Just then, as I watched these women, I felt deep inside of me that if I asked in prayers to God, to make my knees stronger and more flexible, it would happen. But something stopped me. I felt also very seriously that if I wanted that &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt; had to do it, through diet, through yoga... it is for ME to do it alone. It's as if God is not interested in helping me with my issues. This is a very simple example that I gave here, but this is how I feel about every problem I face. Is it over confidence in what I can do... but then why the gratitude?... or is it a feeling that I am not worth His Almighty's help?&lt;br /&gt;I tell you, in a place where gods come by the lacks, my relationship with my ONE God has been a source of great questioning for me.&lt;br /&gt;...what is one more question in the wave of queries I have been hit with lately!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-809190583300898245?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/809190583300898245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/prayers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/809190583300898245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/809190583300898245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/prayers.html' title='Prayers'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BWcsVisBI/AAAAAAAAALg/0ZhSIaFJLas/s72-c/India+14+162.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-2693644811862012101</id><published>2009-12-22T23:43:00.013-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T01:28:26.316-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A beautiful closing to an incredible experience</title><content type='html'>This trip would deserve a blog all to itself! One must not die without spending a few days in an Ashram in Rishikesh! So I've changed my earlier statement! Quiz time... which blog was this and and which place was I referring to?!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A picture is worth a thousand words... so, lots of pictures will be posted on FaceBook once I get back in Indore. I have been here two days after Kahlil and Laurence's departure. This was truly a divine inspiration to come here! It has been so invigorating, the prayers, the chanting, the look on the children's faces, the lighting ceremony called Ganga Aarati (musical offerings to the Mother Ganga, every evening from 5:30 to 6:30), the 4 PM  and 5 AM yoga classes (notice how this one comes last?!!)! All have contributed in making this the best way for me to close this incredible journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rishikesh is located at the foot of the Himalayas, some 200 miles North East of Delhi (Note it took he driver who took me here 7 hours and 40 minutes to drive this distance!... don't ask, the cows, goats, dogs, trucks... :-)  In a brochure I saw, he state of Uttarakhand is described as he "Land of Celestial Beauty" and I tell you it deserves its name!  The calm serenity of the majestic Himalayas everywhere you turn is breathtaking.  And the Ganga, this forceful flowing river that seems to draw all life around it is to be reckoned with.  When I think the discussion we have, Dannie and I about the Haitian Mass at Christ the King that lasts too long ONCE a week on Sunday and here daily, 365 days a week all along the river life stops for an hour and a half ceremony called an "aarti".  In all temples along the river, at the same instant, as the sun sets, this spectacular musical ceremony is performed.  Offerings of lamps and flowers are made to the river immediately following this ceremony and it is a moving sight to watch hundreds of miniature lamps float along the river.  As promised in the beginning, pictures will follow once I am back in Indore.  The Ganga is  one of the 6 lacks of gods in India.  They call it "Mother Ganga" and nothing is done here without the blessing of the Mother!  All the shop keepers have their little reserved container to get some of the water to bless their stands of fruits (guavas!), artisanats of the region, sarees, shawls all throughout the day (what I like best is when they sprinkle some on their cash drawers!)&lt;br /&gt;Life at the ashram.  Very quiet!  Wake up at 5 AM :-( for yoga, meditation and prayers till 7 AM.  Breakfast at 8.  Free till 1 PM.  I walk a lot, come to the Internet cafe, have a cappuccino (no such thing as a good espresso coffee!) here and there, find a spot by the river, in a sunny spot (it is freezing here!) sit, sleep, read... Back to he ashram around 1. Lunch.  Then back to yoga and prayer at 4 until 5:30, when everyone goes to the river for the aarti till 7. Then dinner till 8, and the day is over.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was different for Christmas Eve.  A new post will come tomorrow or later about his.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-2693644811862012101?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/2693644811862012101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/beautiful-closing-to-incredible.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/2693644811862012101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/2693644811862012101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/beautiful-closing-to-incredible.html' title='A beautiful closing to an incredible experience'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-581247818474477772</id><published>2009-12-09T23:34:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T02:11:58.748-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Papillon</title><content type='html'>Remember the old movie "Papillon" with Steve McQueen, where he is emprisoned and out of hunger in jail, he goes after a roach and eats it?! Now everyone saw this and I am sure we all said, I know I did! NEVER would I eat a roach!!! Well on our journey to Mumbai two days ago I learned a very valuable lesson, NEVER say NEVER!! ...no, I did not eat a roach :-), but I did just as bad :-(. So here is the situation.&lt;br /&gt;As we were boarding the train, there was a couple already in the train all comfortably settled in top and bottom berths in my cabin. I very politely told them that the bottom berth was reserved to me. Both in my tickets and on the travellers list posted outside the wagon my name was clearly printed "Isabelle Camille, Lower Berth 19." He proceeded to inform me in a not so very polite way that I had a problem because he also was assigned seat #19. He would not show his ticket, though, just said he would only show it to the ticket collector. So the train starts pulling out of the station and I am still standing in the aisle, because they have bags and stuffs feeling up the berth. As all the other seats were occupied, I just stood there for a while. After a moment, I said to them "I guess I am going to have stand the whole way to Mumbai. It's OK, I guess, this is India, the incredible!" The young woman took great offense to my comment and want me to take it back! As I am still standing, I ask her under what principle would I feel the need to take it back or even apologize?! Her fiance/husband tries to calm her down, but not an easy task. In the meanwhile I am still standing!! Not the smallest gesture to move their packages so I could at least sit while we're waiting for the ticket collector to settle the situation! Kahlil who was in another compartment comes by, tries to talk to them, no cigar! Now she is even more enraged saying I could have just gone and sat with "my company" (her expression, thought it was cute!) instead of making this comment about India!! Imagine, 15 hours sharing a berth with Kahlil, sitting instead of my nice (I didn't know then what I know now! "Papillon" is coming!) berth by myself, (again, I didn't know then what I know now!!) where I could sleep! Finally the man in the coat arrives! He checks the tickets and as expected, the berth was mine... I won't gloat, and I have a story to get to, so that was settled! Being that it was only about 4PM at that time, I very graciously accepted for them to stay together on the berth with me while I read and when we got ready to sleep one of them would have to move. I am very quietly reading my book while they are watching a movie and talking next to me. Suddenly I feel something pass over my feet. I move them and forget about it. About an hour later, I feel it again. I had a blanket over my legs, so I move the blanket, don't see anything and I continue with my reading... Now it is starting to get dark so I am starting to think about sleeping. So I tell them once their movie is over, we'll go to sleep. They agreed and we continued, me with my book, them with their movie. And folks you will not believe it but a few minutes later a mouse came crawling on my arm stood on its hind leg as if to take a good look at me! I tried to scream, but the breath had been knocked out of my lungs. Finally, I realized she was looking at the thing also and made a very casual comment "A rat, yes, I've even seen one in First Class!" Then I found my lungs, screamed, jumped still in a very composed manner as I realized the audience was not going to be sympathetic! From that moment on, it is as if we had become buddy-buddy, the creature and I!! It just went on in its hunt for food and came back from time to time to check if I was still there! The other two just kept at their movie watching and talking as if nothing.&lt;br /&gt;Well, folks, when it came time to sleep, "Manges-Moi" was just not keeping me awake anymore to chase the creature away, I told them it was time to sleep, she went on to the bunk given to him, which was a lower berth, he climbed to the top berth in our cabin. I stuffed the blanket all around me to fill the holes where my little friend was crawling in, in the hope that it would suffice to deter his visit, and I slept!! I still can't believe it! Kahlil refuses to believe me as I am sure some of you who know my rodent-phobia (is there a term for this?!). Once I realized there was nothing to do about it, they thought it was just a small nuisance, so I wasn't going to get any help from anyone, I just made do! My body was begging for sleep so I did! Incredible! Unbelievable!&lt;br /&gt;By the way, there is a joke in India, that rats here are smarter than rats anywhere else in the world because they travel so much in the trains!! When I was told the joke during our first trip to Khajuraho, I had thought it was funny. Not anymore!&lt;br /&gt;Morale of the story: Il ne faut jamais dire "Fontaine, je ne boirai pas de ton eau!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-581247818474477772?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/581247818474477772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/papillon.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/581247818474477772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/581247818474477772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/papillon.html' title='Papillon'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-1849350580965065487</id><published>2009-12-03T11:37:00.021-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T01:46:09.664-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Through their windows</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0Az9uyNy6I/AAAAAAAAAKA/aeb3GrNXAs4/s1600-h/India+14+054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422391086977764258" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0Az9uyNy6I/AAAAAAAAAKA/aeb3GrNXAs4/s200/India+14+054.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0Az9EsliPI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/-j9H-PZACfY/s1600-h/India+14+051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422391075679865074" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0Az9EsliPI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/-j9H-PZACfY/s200/India+14+051.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look into their homes through open doors and windows as the train passes along, I come to wonder about their lives. What do we have that they don’t have? …they have gods by the lacks (that’s 10,000 to us!), they have food, they have water, they have family, they have community, they have a place, no matter how small and précaire where they can put their head down at night and sleep. What do we have that they don’t have? Liberty? …to do what? Dignity? … When I think of the kids in “Slumdog Millionaire” or the ones in the documentary we saw at Daly College once, they were doing the filthiest jobs, by our western standards, but with such grace and joie de vivre, this is dignity! They are doing what they know best in order to survive.&lt;br /&gt;When I look into their homes through open doors and windows as the train pass along, I come to wonder about their lives. What do we have that they don’t have? …Liberty to dream and succeed in moving out of the zone where we were born. Whether we want to or not, the possibility is there. We can formulate the dream. Some succeed some don’t. But the dream can exist. Here, this belief that where you were born is where you must stay is suffocating, to me as a foreigner. What is life without dreams, hopes for knowledge, a better tomorrow for ourselves and our children?&lt;br /&gt;When I look into their homes through open doors and windows as the train pass along, I remember a quote from Nehru that I saw at an exhibit at the Nehru Science Center in Mumbai: “India with all her infinite charm and variety began to grow upon me more and more, and yet the more I saw of her the more I realized how very difficult it was for me and for anyone else to grasp the ideas she has embodied.” I could spend a lifetime in India, I don’t think I would ever fully understand it. I feel frustrated with this idea of "place".  My favorite quote of course you all know is Gandhi's words: "Be the Change you want to see in the world." In a small way, I tried to tell everyone I met here if only in the small gesture of saluting them on campus for example that I believe their "place" didn't matter to me. I valued their presence and felt them worth the acknowledgement. I am in awe of the diversity here. My time here has helped me come to term with some of my ideas. I have more questions about my life now (I needed that, right?!). Some I have answered, some are still out there. I know I am more accepting of myself now. I am less afraid of finding myself in new surroundings. I am much less judgmental of other people's ways of responding to life.  I try my best to accept that each and everyone of us have different experiences that makes us tick differently.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;India, I may not understand you, but I've reveled in your diversity.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-1849350580965065487?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/1849350580965065487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/through-their-windows.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/1849350580965065487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/1849350580965065487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/12/through-their-windows.html' title='Through their windows'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0Az9uyNy6I/AAAAAAAAAKA/aeb3GrNXAs4/s72-c/India+14+054.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-7674996807308461286</id><published>2009-11-29T21:14:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T00:13:14.477-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I forgot about the COWS!!</title><content type='html'>So, in Auroville, the most efficient way to get around is either by bicycle or two-wheelers. After Kahlil very insistently proved to me that renting a motorcycle would be the best idea, as we could see more and faster, and together, I decided why not. Our friends Evelina and James were also renting one so we could all go out together! After a few very uncomfortable moments on the road, I started to relax a bit and taking pictures while Kahlil drove. And suddenly, Holy Cow!! Here goes one crossing James path and we are right behind him!! Not pretty, what my heart did! But we lived to tell the tale!&lt;br /&gt;More on Auroville and the whole week, slowly throughout the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SxMsW0gJSyI/AAAAAAAAAJM/tozWQCndXPo/s1600/IMG_3533.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409716347964312354" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SxMsW0gJSyI/AAAAAAAAAJM/tozWQCndXPo/s200/IMG_3533.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;This is James and Evelina in front of us. If you click on the picture you will see the cow they are approaching...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is us now passing the cow!! I tell you not pretty!!&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SxMsXcwBwjI/AAAAAAAAAJU/Lt3ikYD6hmM/s1600/IMG_3534.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409716358768345650" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SxMsXcwBwjI/AAAAAAAAAJU/Lt3ikYD6hmM/s200/IMG_3534.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SxMsW0gJSyI/AAAAAAAAAJM/tozWQCndXPo/s1600/IMG_3533.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-7674996807308461286?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/7674996807308461286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-forgot-about-cows.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/7674996807308461286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/7674996807308461286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-forgot-about-cows.html' title='I forgot about the COWS!!'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SxMsW0gJSyI/AAAAAAAAAJM/tozWQCndXPo/s72-c/IMG_3533.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-4551289441053236478</id><published>2009-11-19T12:59:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T07:05:15.287-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Carols</title><content type='html'>This morning I woke up with a Christmas carol in my mind and was singing along happily until it dawned on me suddenly that the part of the holidays I liked the most, I was going to miss completely this year. Listening to Christmas carols on the radio! What a sad thought! Yes, I know I could just listen to the songs I have on my iPod, but just like watching “It’s a wonderful Life” at home on a DVD and watching it on TBS with millions of other Americans is a whole different experience, listening to the songs alone or on the radio is not the same!! My family doesn’t get it! Whenever they are showing it on TV, the Queen of England could be coming to town and invite me to tea, I would say, no thank you, Marm! And the kids would be annoyed with me and say, but Mom, you have the DVD you can watch it anytime you want! Not the same! There is a feeling of satisfaction to know that you are crying your eyes out with million others when James Stewart goes running through Bedford Falls, screaming, “Merry Christmas” to the world! Until next year!&lt;br /&gt;Today, I visited the Junior School at Daly College. Embarrassed to say all these months I’ve been here, first time I went to this part of the campus. I visited a few classes. Was very impressed with the behavior of the students and the attitude of the teachers. In the pre-primary school, one teacher was painting a very elaborate flower scheme on an outside wall. I asked her, “Getting ready for Open House, he?” (in a couple of weeks), she said “No, just wanted to brighten up the place a bit.” “One teacher said about the kids “They’re full of mischief, but they’re so loving!” That’s the attitude, he? I visited a dance class. They were practicing an Indian dance for a presentation. I really enjoyed that. The expression on their faces, the hands gestures… and when the teacher joined them to demonstrate better, I was in heaven!&lt;br /&gt;At the end of my visit I spent some time with the Headmaster of the Junior School. Very interesting character. Of course, first thing he did was to order a cup of tea for me, though I told him we had just had our tea in the senior School! You don’t sit with an Indian to have a conversation with him without the obligatory tea! I am learning! He has been at DC since 1970! First as a Math teacher, then Chemistry and since 12 years now as the Junior School Headmaster. He was due to retire this December but has asked for an extension. He doesn’t know yet in what position, but he’ll do anything he says as he has nothing else to do!! I could think of a few things I could do!! We talked about Bhagavad Gita. He read a few passages for me. He keeps it in his desk at all times, and refers to it often throughout his day! He has an interesting philosophy, which wouldn’t sit so well with a few parents I’ve had to deal with! He says if a parent comes to him, furious, complaining about another child hitting their child, his response is, “What do you mean, your child, they are both your children because they are both children of God. Therefore, what you need to do is scold them both and teach them that hitting is bad because tomorrow it might be the other one doing the hitting!” He told me the story of a man who is visiting Heaven and Hell. Two rooms, both with a huge pot of soup in the center with very long ladders attached to their hands to drink the soup with. In Hell, everyone is crossed with each other, they are hungry, they are angry. They cannot eat because the handles are too long and they can’t put them in their mouths. The other room, same situation, but everyone is happy, content, well fed. Because instead of trying unsuccessfully to feed themselves, they feed each other!! Isn’t that a great way of looking at life?!&lt;br /&gt;So, to say, I had a nice chat with him.&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago, I visited two other schools in Indore. One was another private school, but this one religious, Satya Sai Vidya Vihar. Satya Sai is a religious leader in India, who has built quite a few schools, hospitals in India and abroad. He is very much loved at the school. At the entrance of the main courtyard there is a statue of the goddess of knowledge. Interestingly, every child that walks in the school, stop to say a prayer in front of her. Mind boggling! We’re talking teenagers, here, rich teenagers! It is not compulsory, they just want her blessing as they enter this place of learning! Do you see the picture?! Fortunately, I went on a Thursday which is the day they have their one hour Morning Prayer assembly. They sang one verse after another, the whole lot of them, about one thousand teenagers and younger ones (from class 5 to 12) eyes closed, hands joined chanting! The group was led that morning by about ten students of Class 5! Really not to be fathomed!&lt;br /&gt;At that school, the separation, boys/girls, is even greater. They have separate classes all together. Each class has 2 sessions, 12 A Girls, 12 A Boys, 12 B Girls, 12 B Boys… At DC, they only have morning assembly and tea separately! No wonder marriages need to be arranged!&lt;br /&gt;Same philosophy as Mr. Chansoria at DC… While I was visiting the Vice Principal, two students came in her office. One is crying, the other is looking mi-figue mi-raisin. The crying fellow reports that the other one had hit him. With the most loving arm, she embraces him and humorously says to him: “Now you know how it hurts when you hit someone, and hopefully you will never do that!” She asked the other one to apologize, which he did quite willingly. I wish I could have a picture of a child apologizing in India. They hold their ear in a certain way a few times while saying it with a look on their face that is priceless! That is really to be seen. It can’t even be in picture, but on video, so you can see the whole movement!&lt;br /&gt;The other school I visited was a KV school. They are schools which cater specifically to the Government workers’ or Service personnel’s children. It was funny how everyone sort of wanted to excuse whatever I saw there, because they all said in the same apologetic voice “They are from the middle class, you see. Don’t expect much!” I visited three chemistry classes. Lovely, lovely children!! Full of interest and curiosity about my culture, my school, my students! One boy has a coin collection. My goodness, he was so proud to show me his American quarter!! That was really touching! A beautiful experience.&lt;br /&gt;No pictures today to accompany my talk! Sorry! I am holding my ears, cross my heart and hope to die!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-4551289441053236478?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/4551289441053236478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/11/christmas-carols.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/4551289441053236478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/4551289441053236478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/11/christmas-carols.html' title='Christmas Carols'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-2870280677161973012</id><published>2009-11-12T11:30:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T11:58:06.238-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Any entomologist in the house?!</title><content type='html'>OK, where I come from, which has more or less the same weather pattern as here, one waits for "winter" not because we are wanting to see snow or pull out the fur coats, but because the pesky little mosquitoes are gone!!  More than the slight drop in temperature that we get, we wish for November to March for the lack of buzzing sounds that can drive someone trying to sleep, absolutely bunkers!!  Well, here we are in Indore, beautiful cool weather (I've seen very interesting ways of wearing a sweater over a saree these past few days!), no more sweating so profusely that one looks like one has just gone under a fire hydrant, clothes that are put out to dry do so in just about a day because no more extreme humidity.  But I tell you it is as if we had moved to the heart of the Everglades in the middle of July when it comes to "God's mistake"  ("Oh! God" Georges Burns -God- said the seed of the avocado was His one mistake, I say "mosquitoes are His mistake!)  I have always thought that the cooler temperature, the eggs of the mosquito would not "hatch" (I am only pretending to be a science teacher!!) and that's why they disappear during our winter.  So can a REAL :-) science teacher explain to me why the inverse occurs here.  I am told actually that in May-June when the temperature soars in the 3 digits here that's when they get a break from mosquitoes!!!&lt;br /&gt;A world upside down!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-2870280677161973012?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/2870280677161973012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/11/any-entomologist-in-house.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/2870280677161973012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/2870280677161973012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/11/any-entomologist-in-house.html' title='Any entomologist in the house?!'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-6916851991381338037</id><published>2009-11-08T23:38:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T00:39:56.102-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Bollywood evening!</title><content type='html'>Last night we were invited by the Moydes, a couple who teach chemistry also at DC, to go to the movies and then dinner at a beautiful hotel in Indore. It was the Moydes, their two children, Madhri and Anou, Madhouri's mother, Kahlil and I. What an evening! We first saw a Bollywood movie! Though it was in Hindi, it was so filled with beautiful and powerful music and dances, that we could follow the story line somewhat. Anyway we sure enjoyed the music! The name of the movie was "London Dreams". I will be looking out for it when it comes out on DVD, hopefully they'll have English subtitles! Then after the movie dinner at the Hotel Sayaji (very "White Tiger" like!) The food was to die for, both in taste and quantity!! :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what made the evening so magical was not only the movie or the dinner, it was the company! I saw a side of the Moydes that was very endearing. A great couple and loving parents. They are very generous and loving. He is, in a very subtle way, a very strong character. When we got to the restaurant, first they told us without a reservation, they can't sit us. So he said OK, we are going to visit the hotel and see a painting exhibition that was going on there. Beautiful hotel and humongous! A little city! When we came back, they told us the wait would be an hour and a half. Well, folks, I don't know what Mr. Moyde told them but 10 minutes later we were sited and eating the most succulent shrimps ever! And all that with a smile on his face! And she didn't look at all surprised. She knew once we had decided we wanted to eat there, he would make it happen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home we stopped at a Temple of the God Galesh (spelling?). Very interesting! A Catholic church in the open air with the main altar and all the saints around it. The main temple was in the center and about 10 smaller ones to different gods, Saturn (who has another name in Hindi), Sai Baba, Vishnu and many others all around it in a huge yard paved in white marble. Their 9 year old daughter knew everything about each temple! It was really very impressive. When I asked Madhouri who teaches the kids about their religion, since there are so many gods, she very simply said "We do, and our way of life teaches them." Isn't that interesting? It is not left to a catechism class to teach them about their religion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One enchanted evening to remember always.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-6916851991381338037?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/6916851991381338037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/11/bollywood-evening.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/6916851991381338037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/6916851991381338037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/11/bollywood-evening.html' title='A Bollywood evening!'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-8749031267049870959</id><published>2009-11-08T02:42:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T03:08:11.231-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kahlil's Barly experience</title><content type='html'>This post is from Kahlil. Tomorrow at the Barly Institute a group of the girls are graduating and the Director of the Institute has asked him to write a few words for the occasion. and this is what he is going to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SvZ52nD2j8I/AAAAAAAAAI0/nHItYBTC2FU/s1600-h/IMG_1879.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401638782182526914" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SvZ52nD2j8I/AAAAAAAAAI0/nHItYBTC2FU/s200/IMG_1879.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two months into my volunteer work at the Barly Institute and I am having the experience of a lifetime. I have learned so much at this institute including why these young women are here, how the solar cookers work, working in the garden, and I have learned how most Americans are completely ignorant thinking that their life is so hard when they don’t even know half of it. I must admit I was one.&lt;br /&gt;With much love from Janak and Jimmy McGilligan, these girls, who had nothing, have found a place that they can call home, get an education, and learn a work trade. I am almost certain that you girls will go on now with a different perspective on life and have more discipline, which is a key note for success in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SvZ52SQ4QRI/AAAAAAAAAIs/j8lEx8Lfp7s/s1600-h/IMG_1871.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401638776600019218" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SvZ52SQ4QRI/AAAAAAAAAIs/j8lEx8Lfp7s/s200/IMG_1871.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I, for myself, have learned a lot about the solar panels. Before I came to India, I had no idea how they worked, that there were mirror made solar cookers. I actually thought they worked on electricity! I enjoyed assembling a solar cooker, helping the workers fix the clocks for the panels, and enjoying the food and chai made from them. I’ve also had a good time working in the gardens. I had never seen the way people dried corn before I came to Barly. Before here, I hadn’t seen the preparation that you must do before you drop the seeds in the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SvZ52SQ4QRI/AAAAAAAAAIs/j8lEx8Lfp7s/s1600-h/IMG_1871.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SvZ53GXeEzI/AAAAAAAAAJE/hwyUJy_kSaU/s1600-h/IMG_1928.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401638790586307378" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SvZ53GXeEzI/AAAAAAAAAJE/hwyUJy_kSaU/s200/IMG_1928.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My time at Barly has opened my eyes so much and has taught me that not much is impossible. If I had never come to India and someone back in the US brought me to an open grass-field and told me to squat down and cut the grass using only a knife and my bare hands, I would look at him straight in the eyes and tell him that he is absolutely crazy, it is impossible to do. Well, my time at Barly has not only taught me that it is very much possible, and I have done it myself now quite a few times.&lt;br /&gt;So to Janak and Jimmy, I think what you are doing here is amazing and I thank you so much for letting me help out at this Institute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SvZ528P-2II/AAAAAAAAAI8/-8589rhOIVk/s1600-h/IMG_1923.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401638787870546050" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SvZ528P-2II/AAAAAAAAAI8/-8589rhOIVk/s200/IMG_1923.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I will end this speech by saying that what I enjoyed most at the Barly Institute was the friendship that I made with 3 great workers, Rajendar, Sacaram, and Bharat. We worked together, talked about our lives, talked about money, and laughed so much! That describes a great friend to me. I thank them and everyone at the Barly Institute for teaching me new things and letting me have a once in a lifetime experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-8749031267049870959?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/8749031267049870959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/11/kahlils-barly-experience.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/8749031267049870959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/8749031267049870959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/11/kahlils-barly-experience.html' title='Kahlil&apos;s Barly experience'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SvZ52nD2j8I/AAAAAAAAAI0/nHItYBTC2FU/s72-c/IMG_1879.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-1609257135100053810</id><published>2009-11-03T20:37:00.015-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T02:31:09.467-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Les Americains sont des gens tristes!</title><content type='html'>"Americans are sad." This is the conclusion my mother came to one day that she was visiting us in Miami. See, mom is a "haitien dan lame!" (Kev, correction please! This is embarrassing! You know more written Creole than I do!) That day we were going home but I had a few stops to make on the way. First Eckerd, the sales girls after our purchase "Thank you very much, have a nice evening!" Then Publix, again "Thank you for coming, have a nice evening" Then the gas station, same response "Thank you. Come again soon. Have a nice evening." That's when she made the comment to me in a very pensive way, "Les Americains sont des gens tristes!" What she saw was this need to make conversation as a sign of a sad life and therefore let's talk to all those strangers and pretend they are friends! In India, I find myself being a "sad American"! It took me some time to understand my attitude and the attitude of Indians here. Again, let me say, this is based on MY observations of only 3 months of a nation that is very complicated and therefore might be not so correct. When I walk on campus, there are a lot of construction workers and their families, who live here in the shacks&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SvZx6A0wKmI/AAAAAAAAAIc/l5kfcgeU7HM/s1600-h/IMG_1629.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401630044545100386" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SvZx6A0wKmI/AAAAAAAAAIc/l5kfcgeU7HM/s200/IMG_1629.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; you see in the picture, and there are the Class 4 workers, which are the servants. From the beginning, as I pass by them I always said “Good morning” to them. At first, they wouldn’t even answer, just gave me a stranger look than they would anyway! But then, they got used to it and they would answer me with an amused look on their faces. That’s when I started realizing that the other teachers did not greet them at all. In my American thinking, at first I thought, they did not because they’re looking down on them, and think they are not worth the acknowledgement. Now after close to three months in this country, I am realizing I was totally wrong. They don’t greet them not out of disrespect or prejudice but simply because in India everything and everyone has their place. These people are there for a purpose, they have a role to play that does not include interaction among caste. They value them greatly for what they are doing. They realize how fortunate they are to have those “bhai” (it’s either that or “bahai”! One is brother the other one is maid! I mean the latter, Boris! Though I am fortunate to have you too!) I do admit, I have had limited exposure to the interaction between the caste but from what I’ve seen, the interaction is to the point, without any personal contact. But not abusive or verbally disrespectful as I’ve seen in Haiti for example or many places where there are servants (what was the name of this movie with Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson, where he played an English butler who was treated with such disrespect by his master?! “Howard’s Ends” or “The Remains of the Day”?) Anyway, the condescendence and the open “you are beneath me” attitude just isn’t found here. It’s just everyone has their place and no one tries to cross the line in any way at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another example of this place that everyone has here. The other day there was a cricket game &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SvZy6V4VhCI/AAAAAAAAAIk/lX6PII8f6Mg/s1600-h/IMG_2940.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401631149708903458" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SvZy6V4VhCI/AAAAAAAAAIk/lX6PII8f6Mg/s200/IMG_2940.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;at school. There is a pavilion where teachers and guests were to sit. Plastic chairs were placed for everyone but right up front were a couple of sofas for the Principal and dignitaries to sit. Of course on one side the women and the other the men! When we ran out of chairs, a couple of teachers who came in later stood in the back but did not go sit in the front row, though it was empty. I mean if it were a formal function, I would say OK. But just a friendly game of cricket between Old Dalian and the present students! Very interesting! Everyone has a place in India and no one crosses to the other side.&lt;br /&gt;So the amused look on the workers’ faces is simply them looking at me like my mother looked at the cashiers in America “Here is the sad American woman who doesn’t know her place in life”! …what is my place in life?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-1609257135100053810?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/1609257135100053810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/11/les-americains-sont-des-gens-tristes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/1609257135100053810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/1609257135100053810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/11/les-americains-sont-des-gens-tristes.html' title='Les Americains sont des gens tristes!'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SvZx6A0wKmI/AAAAAAAAAIc/l5kfcgeU7HM/s72-c/IMG_1629.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-8538620567808463441</id><published>2009-11-01T10:52:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T00:46:03.061-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fall Back!</title><content type='html'>It was with a saddened heart this year I missed my "Fall Back" hour! I still pretended by changing my little clock that I have kept on home time this morning as soon as I woke up! I did not miss Halloween though last night! As the kids were growing up, and with the years of difference between our first batch and the second, that was many years, Pantal was the one who made the rounds with the kids and I stayed home to be the candy giver! Well, I enjoyed, not having to get up a hundred times to make sure our house was not egged or papered!!! But Severine, you'll miss out on the Starbust!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A totally unrelated thought!! Just completed a wonderful book "Eat Pray Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert. Loved it! Loved it! She talks about deciding what your name stand for. I've decided mine is "Seek". India is not giving away much, though! So I have a serious dilemma here! :-) I am not giving up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-8538620567808463441?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/8538620567808463441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/11/fall-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/8538620567808463441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/8538620567808463441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/11/fall-back.html' title='Fall Back!'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-2963010736289586751</id><published>2009-10-29T03:16:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T10:52:05.619-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A puzzling characteristic</title><content type='html'>As I sat on a bench outside the chemistry Lab, I observed a behavior of two students with a senior teacher that left me puzzled completely. It is not the first time I am observing this. It has happened many times in my class, and at first I used to think it was of course the "new/foreign" teacher aspect that made them believe they could behave that way... ["You mean you've never been a governess before?" ... "the Sound of Music", of course!] But now I am observing this everywhere and many teachers talk of it. So what was the incident? Revenons à nos moutons! The teacher is taking her class somewhere and two students want to have a drink of water before going. They just passed a water fountain. She says no, they must follow her right away. They stood there for more than 5 minutes arguing about it without any resolution. In the meantime the rest of class is long gone! People here have a way of insisting when asking for something that is mind boggling in their perseverance! One of the ways of dealing with a misbehaving child here is to ask them to stand at the door of the class &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Su2tX4NMF0I/AAAAAAAAAIU/QOQEKzlwXoE/s1600-h/IMG_2936.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399162154023393090" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Su2tX4NMF0I/AAAAAAAAAIU/QOQEKzlwXoE/s200/IMG_2936.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;for a while. That child can drive any respectable person insane in just about 3 minutes! (in the picture, my latest victim!) He/she will say "I'm sorry, Mam/Sir" nonstop the whole time he's standing there. No matter what you say, they will just keep repeating it till you either give in, and let them come back in (...and they start again whatever behavior got you there in the first place!), or you suddenly from a calm human being become a totally frustrated person with thoughts of vengeance coming in your mind! OK, you are going to love this one because it so totally out of alignment with all educational philosophies, I've made threats to them that I KNOW I cannot uphold!! Looking at them straight in the eyes, I'd say "If you say it ONE more time I will not allow you to ever come back to my class!" Once after I said this, I did crack up laughing right there in that child's face and poor him not knowing what to do, should he laugh with me or cry, just stared while I had the best laugh of my life ("Laugh till I cry" ... "Bucket List")! A lovely colleague of mine in the Chemistry department told me "they do it to irritate you!" Well, if that’s the objective, they succeed every time! No really, it is a strange situation. The thing is both teachers and students do it! Once they have something in their mind nothing will get it out! Many experiences of that I've had. And it’s like you’re talking to a wall! With the least bit of expression, they will repeat their point till you eventually give in. You feel, there is a communication gap somewhere. I mean this teacher stood there arguing with the kids to march and they had their own thoughts to drink water and nothing was going to make them march and she was not about to allow them to do so. How did it all end?... The teacher went back with the kids to the fountain! Yes, this is why they insist, they know in the end they will get their way!&lt;br /&gt;When a child asks you for money in the streets, she will stand there and repeat the SAME words over and over again as long as you are standing there. She won’t change her expression, she won’t change her line and will NOT leave! “10 Rs., Mam, no food, no Mama” over and over again in the same tone. (The interrogation in “The Lives of Others”!! Is she lying?!) Some of you are thinking, why not just give her the 10 Rs., she sure can use it, and be done with it? Because if you do, no matter how you may think this child was alone, as soon as you give this one person, a dozen of them immediately surround you for their 10 Rs.!!!&lt;br /&gt;The puzzling characteristic here is the often inability for people to understand the word “no”. It feels really that it has no meaning for many. I would really like to understand!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-2963010736289586751?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/2963010736289586751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/10/puzzling-characteristic.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/2963010736289586751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/2963010736289586751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/10/puzzling-characteristic.html' title='A puzzling characteristic'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Su2tX4NMF0I/AAAAAAAAAIU/QOQEKzlwXoE/s72-c/IMG_2936.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-848805767567559808</id><published>2009-10-27T22:26:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T10:40:37.686-05:00</updated><title type='text'>School Activities</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I tell you, I will go back to America a changed person!! (How many of you believe this?! How quickly we forget!!) No more complaining about too many activity hours that takes away from teaching time!! We don’t know the beginning of this issue! At Daly College, I don’t think I have ever had a full class of students any given day that I’ve been here. They are either gone for &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Su2rt7bTdKI/AAAAAAAAAIM/ITVJzXm9sOI/s1600-h/IMG_2939.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399160333821768866" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Su2rt7bTdKI/AAAAAAAAAIM/ITVJzXm9sOI/s200/IMG_2939.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Shooting competition, Cricket match, Squash, NCC (which is something like a J-ROTC but that is compulsory for all students, I think?! I’ve asked about it so many times, don’t fully get the idea but can’t ask anymore!!) It is mind boggling! There are a few girls in my 9th class that I haven’t seen in class for about three or four weeks. So in the higher classes, they miss school like that and the parents hire tutors to keep the kids up to speed with their classmates! Now that tutoring job is not so bad when you consider that for a couple of hours a tutor can make 500+ Rs, while at a school, they will make about 4000-6000 Rs a month! If they have a few students they can make that and then some without the aggravations of working for a school and all the side duties that come with that!! An interesting article in the paper not long ago, was talking about this issue and it was mentioned that teachers in the KV schools (schools for the Government workers’ children) were not allowed to do private tutoring, because apparently they were not doing their jobs in the schools because they know they would then have these kids to tutor privately and make more money! (Clever!) What about those who can’t afford the tutor?!&lt;br /&gt;So next week, we actually have only two days of school. Tuesday and Wednesday. Monday is a legal holiday “Guru Nanak Jayanti” who is a major figure in the Sikhs religion. At DC, though there is an important Cricket match in the morning that the whole faculty is required to attend, from 9 to 11ish. Then starting Thursday it is one event after the other for End of the Year Prize giving ceremony. Now the school year ends in March… don’t ask!! I did many times, and still don’t get it! We have students’ work exhibition, in all the fields. A major concert. I know they can’t be better than the Coral Reef’s band! A tea party for the parents. The Old Dalian Association is participating heavily in all the activities. So classes have been suspended for all those days. It gets better. Since we will be working so hard for all these activities, next Monday was declared a holiday by the principal!! Please, don’t think I am complaining, now!!&lt;br /&gt;Another aspect of teaching here that is different from the Sates. I said already how they did not have substitutes. When a teacher is absent from school, they break her schedule among her colleagues. And whoever gets the substitution continues with the class as best as you can. If you have a substitution that is not in your field, you can actually teach them your subject, allow them study time. What is not allowed is free time to talk and play! I’ve done a few substitutions for the French teacher and that has been fun! But what is another interesting thing is that if you are falling behind a bit with your subject you can make “arrangements” with another teacher in another field who is caught up with their topic and take over one or two of his/her class for your subject!! Isn’t that interesting? So I was starting to panic a little of not finishing with my 11th class chemistry as I had to cover Redox and Thermodynamics before the Half Yearly Exams at the end of November, well after a few arrangements, I am all caught up and progressing without any pressure! That would be a novel idea at Coral Reef or any other school in America, I think!! Now hold on to your seat! Which is the subject we are told will be most willing to make arrangements with us?! The English department!! Supposedly they are the department with the lightest curriculum!! Again don’t ask!!&lt;br /&gt;The beauty of this arrangement situation is that it has to be simply between one teacher who needs more time with her students to cover her curriculum and another who is caught up with said students and can afford to miss a class or two. There is no memo to be written to the principal, attendance office doesn’t have to be notified, department chair doesn’t have to give her/his approval. This is simply between two colleagues who have a common goal of giving their students the best that they have. If it is for me to teach a couple of classes extra, so be it, I will do it without feeling I am being cheated. I will actually look for it, because the students need the extra hour or two. And the other teacher will do it not to get out of teaching an hour or two but because it will be beneficial to the students. It works simply and smoothly. One characteristic of the Indian teachers I have observed, at Daly College anyway, is that they have a level of professionalism that is not seen in many in the states. The amount of duties that they have outside of their teaching duties leaves me speechless. They do it without complaining because, “the students need it” and that’s the end of that. But then there is a level of trust from Administration that makes me green with envy! Next week with all the activities, all teachers are expected to be present in school and participate. On Saturday, (yes, remember we teach on Saturday!) one of the administrators, just came in the Staff room during tea time and simply stated that. And that’s that. No one will be checking your name off in the auditorium, we don’t have to sign anything and I can guarantee you, everyone will be there at their post. I love it!! In the beginning of my stay here, I went through a nightmarish situation with my school because the administration wanted me to send a timesheet of sort to show that I did go to work in order for me to get paid. I don’t want to get into too much detail, but it was really very absurd! Until the district stepped in and said enough, we have the Fulbright contract that’s that! My apprehension was to have to go to an Administrator here and ask them to take my attendance daily and send it half way across the world when my presence is good enough for them here!!&lt;br /&gt;Teaching is a respected profession in India while back home sometimes I feel it is considered a second-class profession! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-848805767567559808?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/848805767567559808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/10/school-activities.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/848805767567559808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/848805767567559808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/10/school-activities.html' title='School Activities'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Su2rt7bTdKI/AAAAAAAAAIM/ITVJzXm9sOI/s72-c/IMG_2939.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-8252508336205812093</id><published>2009-10-25T05:32:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T03:26:36.700-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Guavas</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BSj1Kw3DI/AAAAAAAAALQ/I-A4xMbbG00/s1600-h/India+14+124.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422424726875200562" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BSj1Kw3DI/AAAAAAAAALQ/I-A4xMbbG00/s200/India+14+124.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Now, for those of you who don't know me well, you don't know that my passion is guavas! And unfortunately it has to be an unfulfilled passion because in Miami, guavas are always filled with worms. We actually had to cut our guava tree because it was always infested with worms. Poor Guilene got her bad experience with that once at our house! Unpleasant memory! Well, if someone can explain to me why don't guavas in India have any worms, please do so! Jacques, help here! So another passion fulfilled. And as the DC ground is loaded with guava trees, I have died and gone to heaven! I eat guavas as if nothing! Everyday on my way home from school, I just have to reach up and here is snack when I get home, desert after dinner and late snack before I go to sleep. In the street, you can have them cut it for you and add a little masala to it and then it is the fruit of the Gods!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BSkeiB2lI/AAAAAAAAALY/ZAZRrJgL-yA/s1600-h/India+14+125.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422424737978636882" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BSkeiB2lI/AAAAAAAAALY/ZAZRrJgL-yA/s200/India+14+125.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I am filling up with the best fruit in the world for the end of time! Lucky me! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-8252508336205812093?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/8252508336205812093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/10/guavas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/8252508336205812093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/8252508336205812093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/10/guavas.html' title='Guavas'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/S0BSj1Kw3DI/AAAAAAAAALQ/I-A4xMbbG00/s72-c/India+14+124.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-913235200119949731</id><published>2009-10-19T13:56:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T05:23:33.482-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Bucket List</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A student of mine in her morning talk, spoke of the influence movies have on her. She said when she saw “Erin Brokovich” she wanted to be a lawyer, “Mona Lisa Smile” she wanted to be a teacher… well, after I saw “Bucket List” I wanted to see the Himalayas… and this past week-end I did! It’s a good thing I didn’t want to have a tattoo!! So for the Diwali break, Kahlil and I went to Leh in the Kashmir State. So another WOA experience!! Where to start? “Let's start from the beginning… it’s a good place to start” Anyone wants to guess at the movie? ...“The Sound of Music”!&lt;br /&gt;The preparations for the trip were a bit worrisome. First, we had an email form the Fulbright Staff in India not recommending any trip to the Jammu - Kashmir States because of unrest in the Pakistan/India border! So I pretended to either not know that Leh was in Kashmir ;-) (where is Miami again?... in Idaho or Oregon?!!!) or not having received that message so we could go on with our plans! Then, the travel agency who was supposed to arrange my trip was giving me the run around and pretending everything was done when they had not made the reservations at all!! So in my superstitious mind, I kept on thinking, maybe it is a sign that we should not go!! But the “Bucket List” wish was stronger, so finally when we got our tickets, I said we’ll go. Since I am back to tell the tale, we can say it’s a good thing!&lt;br /&gt;So we left Indore on Thursday night late, spent the night at the airport in Delhi and 6AM on to Leh. Leh is straight north of Delhi, closer to the China border; it is 3500 m + above sea level. First we flew over the majestic white Himalayas “in a hair-raising flight that weaves between the peaks” (Lonely Planet)! What a sight!! Looking down you don’t really know if it is clouds you’re &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SuQVTApLkDI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/rIH3kHYPsXI/s1600-h/IMG_2710.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396461669831118898" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SuQVTApLkDI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/rIH3kHYPsXI/s200/IMG_2710.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;seeing or the white capped mountains. No really magnificent! Then suddenly no more snow! Just incredibly brown totally devoid of any life form mountains! And from time to time a little patch of green, yellow, red trees down in a valley alongside a river! And around there a little village.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SuQVTbPaMPI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Z7Exgmtfqm4/s1600-h/IMG_2720.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396461676970782962" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SuQVTbPaMPI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Z7Exgmtfqm4/s200/IMG_2720.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Truly impressive! The whole flight over was truly breathtaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then you arrive in Leh and the military presence is overwhelming! In the Lonely Planet, the army’s job was described as mostly a road and bridges repairing Army and keeping the mountain passes clear of snow! Well from the massive number of Army personnel we saw, there must be lots of broken roads and bridges!! No really, I panicked when we landed and could have made a U-turn right then and there if it weren’t for the image of the cool and collected Mother to keep in front of Kahlil! And then we crossed the town to go to our Guest House! What a sight! The mud brick houses flanked all along the mountains, the prayer &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SuQUln1umKI/AAAAAAAAAHI/Sk16tEjT8kI/s1600-h/IMG_2795.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396460890078746786" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SuQUln1umKI/AAAAAAAAAHI/Sk16tEjT8kI/s200/IMG_2795.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;wheels, which are round structures filled with prayer flags that you rotate clockwise and all the prayers get sent up to God; the many Buddhist Stupas, which are mud bricks structures laid in geometric patterns along the roads in Ladakh. They used to be funeral mounds built in honor of an enlightened person or a great teacher. Some of them will hold the relics of the dead person, but now more and more they don’t. They are everywhere. Big ones, small ones, extremely &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SuQWKjTYm0I/AAAAAAAAAHg/gSN53YR6Sxc/s1600-h/IMG_2752.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396462624027745090" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SuQWKjTYm0I/AAAAAAAAAHg/gSN53YR6Sxc/s200/IMG_2752.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ornate ones and very simple ones! A quote about what a stupa represents: “The visual impact of the stupa on the observer brings a direct experience of inherent wakefulness and dignity. Stupas continue to be built because of their ability to liberate one simply upon seeing their structure” - Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche. The Shanti Stupa was built to promote world peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We stayed at the Snow View Guest House. That was an experience of itself. The owners were incredibly kind and helpful. Their cook just amazing! We had the best vegetarian foods one could ever imagine. I thought of my cousin Stephane. What a joy that would have been for him to eat there! The hotel was already closed for the season, so we had their 100% attention! I tell you royal treatment all the way. All was not so well, though. Kahlil got sick because of the altitude. I talked about in my last blog what it costs to have him taken care of! Incredible!&lt;br /&gt;We visited many of the monasteries of the region. Pictures of the trip and comments can be seen by clicking on the link. &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=39283&amp;amp;id=1408545811&amp;amp;l=952068959f"&gt;Pictures of Leh.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned in the beginning that we went during the Diwali break. Well, Diwali is a very special season for Hindus. It is a bit like our Christmas and New Year, when everyone wears new clothes, get together with families, and fire crackers are a major part of the holiday! Well, Buddhists don’t really celebrate Diwali. Leh being majority Buddhists, we missed the whole “crackers” (this is how they call fire crackers here!) part of the celebration. Must admit I didn’t miss it! It was peaceful and eerie. Now when you add to that the snow falls that we had the &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SuQXkKMvyBI/AAAAAAAAAHo/Ree0gap_-lE/s1600-h/IMG_2816.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396464163477243922" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SuQXkKMvyBI/AAAAAAAAAHo/Ree0gap_-lE/s200/IMG_2816.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;second day, the Fairy Tale had just begun! Kahlil was on cloud 9! First snow experience. How lucky does one get! Suddenly all the brown mountains were covered with snow. Magic! Everyone was amazed. First time it snows so early in the season! Ha! Ha! Lucky us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As we travel around India, all of you back home are always very present in our minds and from time to time one of us will say, “this reminds me of Sole”, “Carol would love this”, “here is Nael, Mom”, “that’s pops alright!” "Mommy Yole would walk like this."  Well, this trip for one reason or another, my brother-in-law, Jacques Cassagnol, was extremely present with us. From the moment we started flying over the mountains, it was as if his ghost was right there with us! Why? I have no idea. As we landed in Leh, I asked Kahlil, “who are you thinking of?” Immediately his response was “Jacques”. To tell you folks, we take you all along with us everywhere we go. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-913235200119949731?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/913235200119949731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-bucket-list.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/913235200119949731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/913235200119949731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/10/my-bucket-list.html' title='My Bucket List'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SuQVTApLkDI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/rIH3kHYPsXI/s72-c/IMG_2710.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-3693734490167243261</id><published>2009-10-19T12:53:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T12:57:53.458-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. President, a new Health Plan Proposition!</title><content type='html'>We’ll call it the 5/55!  This is what it has cost me tonight to take my son to the hospital, have an X-Ray and a sonogram!!!  5 Rs. for hospital registration, 55 Rs. for the 2 procedures!!  I’ll let you do the math, $1 is equivalent to 46-48 Rs.  And I tell you folks, he had the best of care!  It felt like we were in Miami, going to Jackson South and being given the special treatment we always get there, with Lenny and Marie-Maurice!  The owner of the hotel we were staying at, knew the right people, so we went right in, were seen by the Senior Doctor, had the two procedures done in a flash, and we were out of there!  Now the medicines cost quite a bit!  124 Rs.!!  I don't think anywhere in the world can beat that!  The whole thing costs about $4!!  Crazy, ne?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-3693734490167243261?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/3693734490167243261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/10/mr-president-new-health-plan.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/3693734490167243261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/3693734490167243261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/10/mr-president-new-health-plan.html' title='Mr. President, a new Health Plan Proposition!'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-7727290213577581543</id><published>2009-10-15T07:15:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T12:32:09.053-04:00</updated><title type='text'>School Issues</title><content type='html'>Yesterday morning, an unheard of incident occurred in school. Unheard of in America, that is. at Assembly time, most days, after the prayers and chanting of the Om, one or two students will present a talk on a topic previously assigned. Well, that morning, two young men were to talk about the Indian flag. And they were horrible! I mean, they really were bad. First of all, the speech has to be memorized. These two young men couldn't even properly read what was on their paper! They made mistakes after mistakes, they muffled their words (is there such a word?!)&lt;br /&gt;I mean it was a real disaster!  Well, one old bird on the staff, (whom I admire tremendously!  Will talk of her again I am sure) got on the stage, after their presentation and told them flat out, I am paraphrasing here, “You were taught better and you ought to know better.  You will do your presentation again because you had some very valuable information to give to us that will help us all learn.”  She went on to explain very clearly what was wrong with their speech, what had to be changed and that was that.  Now this is right there in front of the whole student body!  Brilliant!!  I can’t imagine this happening in the States!  No way Jose!  What about the child’s ego?!  You would have those parents demanding your head on a platter!  But you see it wasn’t made in the mind to hurt the child’s ego.  It was an open and frank way of calling a spade a spade.  The day after, those two young men came back on stage and said their speech the right way; she congratulated them on a job well done.  And that was that.&lt;br /&gt;The Indian school system has its good points and some terrible bad points.  Now, let me make sure I state unequivocally, that this is MY opinion and MY experience only.  This is not going to be a “Good Points – Bad Points” writing.  Because, often I find what they have that works in one way doesn’t work in another.  The way that they do their lab practical, I’ve mentioned before is totally cookbook.  The kids prepare the labs they are responsible for the year, and when you come to that part of the curriculum, you come with them to the lab, it’s all prepared for you, they follow the recipe and leave.  They write up the results, you collect the notebooks, check what they’ve done, no grade is assigned for it, or is there?!  I am not really sure!  Lab safety issues are non-existent.  No goggles, aprons, teachers could be in sandals.  As they walk in the lab, if they are to use the flame, all Bunsen burners are turned on by the lab assistant and left on throughout the lab whether they are at their station or not.  On the other hand the students have a confidence about handling of the equipments, analyzing a result that I hardly see in the American student!  Shouldn’t we expect the opposite, since in America, the curriculum is much more inquiry-based?  They should have much more ownership of their work.  To the end of the year you will have students who will not touch the Bunsen burner if their life depended on it (or their grade, for that matter!)  I know I am going to make less of an issue about safety.  Not to say I will do it like they do it here, but I will try my best to not let them have this unhealthy fear of everything that touches the lab.  Am I heading for disaster?!!  I don’t think so.  Time will tell!&lt;br /&gt;Let me go back to a comment I made earlier.  I am not sure if a grade is given for the labs the students do, that’s after 2 months working in the system!  What I think happens is, in the 10th and 12th grades, where they have to pass the States’ Exams, there is a practical portion for their final marks and that practical will be one of these labs that they have done.  What about the other grade levels?  I have no idea.  The Indian system is not very friendly to outsiders.  Notice I said, the “system”, not the individual teachers.  You see they were born in it!  That’s all they know.  So they truly don’t get what my questions are!  When you couple that with the fact that they use different terminologies, we’re talking major communication issues!!  So after I’ve asked 2-3 times about the grade given for the lab and they’ve answered about the marks, I feel totally uneasy asking again!!  Because of the exams, you really have to teach the students the proper materials.  Again they’ve been teaching the same materials over and over again, so they know it also by heart!  And they have apparently old students’ notebooks that they use as back up since the curriculum doesn’t change much.  A few times, in the beginning, the department Chair asked them to find me one of these old notebooks.  That has never materialized.  Now I’ve put it to rest and go through the book, meticulously, hoping I will touch upon everything I have to teach.  It will be interesting to see how my students fare at the end!  Actually, not to worry really, because they check from time to time my students’ notes to make sure I am feeding them the right stuff!!  As I haven’t heard any comments, I must be doing it right!  See, it is totally a close system, made by Indians and for Indians.  Again and again, it seems to work for them!  According to teachers here, it certainly works for the 2% minority that has it all and can afford the numerous tutoring hours to prepare them for the exams.  The rest, oh, well, they’ll continue what their parents have done for years and years and their chances for advancement are nil or close to that.  Is that fair?  Not really.  Are they complaining?  Apparently not.  One student, the other day, was telling me how unfair it is that according to the caste they are from, their salary will be different and that wasn’t right.  So they’re thinking about it. &lt;br /&gt;Complicated, India.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-7727290213577581543?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/7727290213577581543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/10/school-issues.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/7727290213577581543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/7727290213577581543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/10/school-issues.html' title='School Issues'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-8446444627267183917</id><published>2009-10-12T02:02:00.017-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T13:45:17.802-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pre-Conference tour</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/StNpVyso19I/AAAAAAAAAGw/dOvAIYPHFTc/s1600-h/IMG_2552.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391769001999783890" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/StNpVyso19I/AAAAAAAAAGw/dOvAIYPHFTc/s200/IMG_2552.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's been a while!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got back from a week long trip with some members of Daly College and different delegations of Round Squares Schools from Canada, Australia and France.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…small interruption to walk over to the DC Hospital to check how I was to take the medicine prescribed to me by the Doctor this morning. OK, let’s start there! While on our trip, I caught the most horrible cold. Got back into town last night. This morning before going to school, I stopped by the hospital, which is right behind our Residence, to ask the Doctor about a cough syrup. After a brief 2 minute examination…”Open up wide, Aaaaaaah, Deep breath, again, again…” he writes me a prescription of 5 medicines which he writes in the stereotypic unreadable handwriting of a Doctor and tells me to send for them at the Market. When I get to school, I give the prescription to one of the Lab assistants with a 500 Rs bill, telling him if it costs more, to let me know. Since they had already arranged for substitution for me for the day, I was feeling so bad, I ended up going back home. A couple of hours later, Nahran shows up at my apartment with all the medicine for the incredible cost of 174.50 Rs (a little less that $4!) How crazy is that?! I did not pay too close attention to the Doctor’s direction on how to take the medicine, because I figured the “Medicine Man” was going to neatly type it all up for me like Walgreens does back home, right?! Well, that wasn’t to be. It all came in a green little plastic bag, the 5 or 10 pills, depending on whether I was to take it twice or once a day!!) So I had to go back to the hospital to ask for an explanation! ...and this time I paid attention! This is how medicine should be practiced! You go see a doctor for something, he sees about that ailment, and off you go on your merry way! You need 5 capsules of this medicine, 5 capsules of this medicine are cut out and handed to you. None of that fancy packaging that makes you pay $30 co-payment for any medicine!! Here is a new idea Mr. President! Would that make his Health Plan more palatable to the American Republican …ooops, did I say that?! I meant to say: “American Public”!&lt;br /&gt;Our latest trip: Delhi, Agra, Jaipur.&lt;br /&gt;I’ll start from the beginning. Sunday, Delhi was a total disaster in poor planning on the part of the tour organizers. How did they get it so right after Delhi, I don’t know! But one thing at a time… So Delhi, the hotel was too far from the city and traffic was a nightmare. Everything was partially done because we ran out of time. We had about a half hour to visit the Qutub Minar, &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/StNpzDbNKVI/AAAAAAAAAG4/0RYJ9jUeh48/s1600-h/IMG_2308.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391769504706275666" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/StNpzDbNKVI/AAAAAAAAAG4/0RYJ9jUeh48/s200/IMG_2308.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;which is the tallest brick tour in the world – 72 meters, built in the 12th Century. Really a magnificent sight. In the afternoon we were supposed to visit the Lotus Temple but made it too late there so we had to be content to take pictures from the streets! Laurence, I am sure you are happy to know it will be our first time with you in December. I like that better, anyway. It will feel more special to see it with you. Then the famous Akshardham, very irreverently put, a massive Disney production with fake river boat ride through 10,000 years of Indian culture! It is truly impressive. A giant Hindu temple in the center of the complex is carved entirely of pink stone and white marble. It took five years to be built(11-2000 to 11-20050. Unfortunately we have no picture of this visit because cameras were not allowed at all. But do google it! It really is a &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/StNqcQfU-sI/AAAAAAAAAHA/He_5GIQscSo/s1600-h/IMG_2339.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391770212587862722" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/StNqcQfU-sI/AAAAAAAAAHA/He_5GIQscSo/s200/IMG_2339.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;glowing testimony to what volunteerism, talent and spiritual faith can accomplish. My favorite visit of all, Raj Ghat, a simple memorial that marks the spot of Gandhi’s cremation! A black marble platform with an inscription of his last words “He Ram” (O God) and an eternal flame at one end. That was Delhi! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did have a chance to meet with another Fulbrighter who is teaching in Delhi, Evelina! That was special! In spite of our obvious differences of origins and the likes :-) , I tell you I felt like I was meeting with a long lost kin!! We had dinner at the Banana Leaf, where we had had a couple of meals back in August when we had first arrived! Really, highlight of the whole week!&lt;br /&gt;Then on Tuesday, miserable day in the bus going from Delhi to Agra. Now I know all you skeptics out there are going to question the veracity of this statement, but we drove the 200 Km (that's 120 miles!) distance between these two cities in exactly 7 hours. There was no breakdown of the bus, no accident on the way, nothing like that, just cows, rickshaws, goats, dogs, two-wheelers, whole families on ONE motorcycle, people, did I mention the cows? cows, cows resting, cows walking, cows crossing the street (do they know where they’re going?) people, cars, trucks, and broken roads! We just check in the hotel, and everyone crashes! I guess we had to be pure of any sightseeing for a while and fresh and disposed to take in what was in store for us the day after! God in his infinite wisdom! So, you guess it! The Taj Mahal! Words totally fail me. How was this conceived? From far, this humongous white structure, from close this incredibly tender white marble so delicately carved with such incredible details! How did they do it? Ronsard said “Il ne faut pas mourir sans avoir vu Carcassone”, Isabelle corrects Ronsard and says “No one should die without having seen the Taj Mahal!” I am almost sorry to post my pictures. They are such an injustice to what this place is all about. You have to see the whiteness of the marble. Imagine a baby’s cheek in a commercial for a baby soap or something, well, that will get you a little close to the reality, not completely but… It’s the translucent of this huge laced building that gets to you from up close, I think. This is what pictures will never show, folks. You’ll see the majestic, the grandiose, the perfect symmetry but not that! I tell you folks, I left my heart in Agra last week!&lt;br /&gt;Two days later I was getting sick in Jaipur!! So I pretty much missed the pink city!&lt;br /&gt;Very easily we forget. This week I had a bit of a wake-up call, of a sort. Truly this experience is turning out to be more than I bargained for originally! OK, you’ve heard this idea from me before, “kids are the same everywhere”, right? Well, can I change this to People are the same everywhere?! We hurt each other, we amaze each other, we disappoint each other, we break promises… and we heal and we move on. I don’t know why I had it in my mind that all Indians were going to be little Gandhi, all one billion of them (is that the count?)! Is everyone having a good laugh?!! Now, this is a touchy subject. It deals with the taboo idea that makes the world go round!!! You know what I mean, right?! I will try to be as sensitive as I can (…what, me and my big foot?!) Why even bring it up? some will ask. Well, because this blog is not only about my “Teaching in India” but also “Learning in India”. I know, the teachers reading me are saying “Well, duh, Isabelle, aren’t teaching and learning one and the same process?!” Touché! OK, so here goes. In India, it is not … I’ve been sitting in front of this blinking cursor for the past 15 minutes, no kidding, trying to put into words how Indians dealt with money matter and couldn’t come up with one single idea! Let me start with the incident and then maybe it will get easier to say what I learned. This tour was supposed to cost a certain amount of rupees. At the end of the trip I have spent one third more and I don’t mean in personal spending!! (No, I did not go crazy buying souvenirs, sorry!!) They just kept on coming with more and more expenses for us! And in the most polite of ways, “Yes, I understand how frustrating, Mam, but that will be another 2150 rupees.” It was very frustrating! And I wrapped myself in my proud American Way and thought, that would never happen back home! X amount is X amount. Period! It took me all week of being frustrated, appalled, annoyed, and feeling like I was being robbed, to realize, “Ne, Isabelle! They didn’t do anything that extraordinarily wrong! They misrepresented some truths J, maybe, they miscalculated, they didn’t see the big picture, but they didn’t rob me, they did not purposefully change the facts… And, sadly, they are not all Gandhi!!! So then I started to think, well what about my proud American Way? Could that have happened back home also?! What would be the need for “Tell it to Howard” (Is that the name of that show?) Of course, not this exact incident, but some other where one of the party feels erroneously they’ve been wronged one way or the other. And we get hurt and disappointed and we roll over and heal. The important thing is to let go of this feeling of having been wronged. An Indian guru told Wayne Dyer “there are two types of things one can worry about, one type, you can’t do anything about, so why worry about it, the other type you can do something about it, so you do it and it doesn’t exist anymore.“ (I’ve had to use this idea twice in the space of a day!) So I have realized that there was nothing I could do about this one, so I just need to let it go and remember the baby’s cheek commercial!!! As I told someone today, I will not let the small issues get in the bigger picture of this experience.&lt;br /&gt;For all of you who are not familiar with my writing style, I do always use way too many exclamation points everywhere! I guess it is to make up for my lack of precise command of expression like the two people I mentioned in one of my first blogs! Now should be a game quiz moment, “what is the name of at least one of the persons mentioned…!!!” (see, I told you!) I’ve watched way too much Gilmore Girls!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post the pictures later! ... and here they are :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The agra Fort:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=38480&amp;amp;id=1408545811&amp;amp;l=096301363a"&gt;http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=38480&amp;amp;id=1408545811&amp;amp;l=096301363a&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Taj Mahal:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=38473&amp;amp;id=1408545811&amp;amp;l=9cb32255d7"&gt;http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=38473&amp;amp;id=1408545811&amp;amp;l=9cb32255d7&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-8446444627267183917?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/8446444627267183917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/10/pre-conference-tour.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/8446444627267183917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/8446444627267183917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/10/pre-conference-tour.html' title='The Pre-Conference tour'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/StNpVyso19I/AAAAAAAAAGw/dOvAIYPHFTc/s72-c/IMG_2552.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-7748230095347086756</id><published>2009-09-30T15:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T15:44:31.278-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Marraine Lala is coming! Marraine Lala is coming!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SsOzdNixirI/AAAAAAAAAGo/ybvjpi76GBg/s1600-h/IMG_1640.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387346893698337458" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SsOzdNixirI/AAAAAAAAAGo/ybvjpi76GBg/s200/IMG_1640.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the milk man!  He has a horn on his bike that makes a strange sound to announce his arrival for milk delivery at people's house.  So when they hear this sound someone comes running out to get the milk.  So how is this related to Marraine Lala is coming?!  Well, when we were little and living in Haiti, Marraine Lala's visits were announced by a fellow on a motorcycle that had a strange bell to announce his delivery of a telegram, which would tell us of her arrival!!  That sound made my sisters, brother and I very happy!  So every morning when I am going to school, I love meeting him in front of the neighbors house, announcing his arrival! ...and I remember :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-7748230095347086756?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/7748230095347086756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/marraine-lala-is-coming-marraine-lala.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/7748230095347086756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/7748230095347086756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/marraine-lala-is-coming-marraine-lala.html' title='Marraine Lala is coming! Marraine Lala is coming!'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SsOzdNixirI/AAAAAAAAAGo/ybvjpi76GBg/s72-c/IMG_1640.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-5028113879391477864</id><published>2009-09-29T07:45:00.020-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T15:31:11.931-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Some more thoughts...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SsOwHAAKFpI/AAAAAAAAAGY/jw4Jp6YG9mM/s1600-h/IMG_2040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387343213571479186" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SsOwHAAKFpI/AAAAAAAAAGY/jw4Jp6YG9mM/s200/IMG_2040.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lots of ideas in my mind to share... some are just trivial things, some more thoughts on teaching here and there. We went to Aurangabad this week-end and it was an experience and a half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First let me talk about a couple of people encounters we've had. They have confirmed my thoughts, people are the same everywhere... wait a minute, does this make any sense?! Let me explain, maybe it will then. I start from the end... On our return from Aurangabad, we were on the 12 Midnight bus, which came an hour and a half late!! That's India for you. Be flexible :-) When after 9 hours of a difficult bus ride we are in Indore, I am asking the men on the bus -driver and assistant- where is our stop, they just kept on laughing at me, and the fact that I did not speak Hindi. The more I asked in English, explaining that I did not speak Hindi, the more they laughed and continued speaking Hindi! I practically had tears coming to my eyes and had all the horrible thoughts for Indians at that moment. In the midst of all that, our cell phone rings, Kahlil answers, and it was the driver who took us around yesterday in Ellora, who was checking up on us to know if we had arrived safely back home!! Now this man had no obligation to do that, but out of the goodness of his heart he did this kind gesture! Now do you get it? People are the same everywhere. You find great kindness as well as jerks everywhere. If we could remember that always, we would be so much happier! So I had to come half way across the globe to learn this simple lesson! A recurring question "which system do you think is best?" Over and over I respond, "I don't think one is better that the other, they are just very different!" Driving... people say, if you drive in India, you can drive anywhere. I say, if you can drive in India, you can adapt easier to the driving system anywhere, but as Kahlil said this afternoon, after getting a few driving violations!! We're under a red light, 2 PM this afternoon, a zillion bikes, two-wheelers, rickshaws, cars... 13 seconds left of the red light. I swear to you folks, one biker decided he had waited long enough, drove off, and the whole crowd under that light just started moving, as if it was a full stop instead of a traffic light!! Someone, who shall remain nameless, very dear to my heart was banned from ever getting a license in the State of New York, for doing just that while taking her driving test!!&lt;br /&gt;Open House last Saturday. An interesting experience. More or less what one would expect. All teachers were there to greet the parents, all the parents of the best students in your class were there. Those you wish you would get to say a few words to :-( were not there! All the parents were there with their child, so there was no awkward moments! One child has a straight "A" report card, in Bio and Physics she has "A+" and in Chemistry just an "A" :-(, Mom wanted to know what the child can do to improve her grade!! My response? "Hu! Hu!"&lt;br /&gt;As planned, we left almost right after Open House on our trip to visit the Caves of Ajanta and Ellora. Whoa! What an experience! &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387343219074848178" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SsOwHUgQ1bI/AAAAAAAAAGg/iFiICK-O-Qo/s200/IMG_2166.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures of the Caves of Ajanta:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=37221&amp;amp;id=1408545811&amp;amp;l=58e37a05ee"&gt;http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=37221&amp;amp;id=1408545811&amp;amp;l=58e37a05ee&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pictures of the Daulatabad Fort:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=37236&amp;amp;id=1408545811&amp;amp;l=6be7f0f811"&gt;http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=37236&amp;amp;id=1408545811&amp;amp;l=6be7f0f811&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Some of the caves were actually built from top down! Can you believe this?! India really has some architecture that is breathtaking. I am certainly enjoying this side of the experience. The caves of Ajanta, I was familiar with them from having received one of those emails from a friend with a PowerPoint presentation about the Caves. That was breathtaking, I thought, but not real. Well, to my surprise this past week-end I realized, the caves are exactly like in the pictures! A majesty about them that is indescribable! Yes you can see the pictures and see the beauty, but walking in the caves, the darkness, and imagining those men so long ago, building these magnificent statues, the paintings in he Ajanta caves, how did they do it? Why did they do it? I know, a place of worship... but why this grandiosity? How did they do it? who did it? I tell you, really impressive! This coming week we are in for another treat! Boris is convinced I have come to India under false pretense! Supposedly to teach but really to travel!! What can I say, if they have all these festivities around this time of the year!! anyway, we are off to visit three cities, Delhi-Agra-Jaipur. This is a school organized tour and we will be going with another teacher and some students. Looking forward to this!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Teaching wise -see, Boris, I do that too!!!- I am more and more understanding the system. Through my own experience and through talking with other teachers. I don't find it challenging at all. It is too much rot memory. The students, who are paying attention, are doing so by taking down what you are saying words for words. I stop from time to time to ask: Any questions? No they don't have any, just finish dictating the notes so they can copy it down and be done with it. Rarely do you get a word from the students about what you are telling them. Maybe, "can you repeat what you just said?" I can't do it that way. I need a dialogue. I need feedback, questions, comments. Don't get me wrong, they are wonderful children, and I enjoy my interactions with them outside of class. It's just professionally, I am not challenged at all. My only concerns here are, Am I saying it the way they need to have it? Am I teaching the right stuff? Am I going deep enough? Too deep, I don't have to worry. If it's in the book, they have to know it! How do the teachers do it? Year in Year out? One teacher said, "That's all we know. I was raised in it, and so I teach what I was taught." He agrees something is wrong, like all the others, but they say like I do, It works for them, so why not? I really want to poke a little deeper and get some more info about who does it work for? All the students, or just some? What happens after high school? after college?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;OK, so this is going to be my time of questioning, these 5 months in India! Hopefully I'll have a few answers before I leave! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;...and I haven't mentioned the cast system, yet! I didn't even realize, it still existed, stupid me!! I can't reconcile the idea of one of the greatest democracy in the world, to have such a patented (!) system of labeling and classifying people. Boris made a comment earlier about an earlier Post, where I was talking about what I pay the lady who helps us with the upkeep of the apartment. He reminded me that the two twins who worked for mother all these years back, had in turn maids of their own! So he said they did manage to live with that salary. I corrected him and said they did not "live" with that salary, not if living is like Walt Whitman described it "To live free and..." This is surviving. These tarp covers that house so many, we can fool ourselves and say they are happy there, but that can't be! Anyway, I don't get it at all, so let me not say a word until I've learned more. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;India is Incredible! This is the saying here! &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387343208578942706" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SsOwGtZ2BvI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/XUXrIGFj0mc/s200/IMG_1979.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-5028113879391477864?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/5028113879391477864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/some-more-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/5028113879391477864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/5028113879391477864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/some-more-thoughts.html' title='Some more thoughts...'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SsOwHAAKFpI/AAAAAAAAAGY/jw4Jp6YG9mM/s72-c/IMG_2040.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-2882599444914716328</id><published>2009-09-25T09:14:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T09:50:28.812-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Festivals</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lots are happening in the next few days. Tomorrow is Open House. I am terrified! I know the name of about 5 students. How will I discuss with any intelligence the progress of (or lack of!) the students in my care?! One teacher suggested I say to the parents, if their child is not with them, that I won't speak to them unless they come with their child!! Just kidding!! :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So after Open House, Kahlil and I are off to see the caves of Ajanta and Eloa. This week-end we have a 3-day week-end. Super! The reason for the holiday is not quite clear to me. It is called Navarathri, which literally means &lt;em&gt;nine nights&lt;/em&gt;. On the last day there is a fierce battle between the goddess, Durga and an evil man. Of course good wins over evil. During these nine days, lots of festivities go on. They have the "gurba dances" every night. We went twice with colleagues. Superb. Extravagant. An incredible discharge of energy, form both dancers and spectators. Pictures are posted on FaceBook. So the last day of the festivities will be on Monday the 28th. At that time the evil king will be burned in all the cities. We hope to see this!&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SsIPNsXhVLI/AAAAAAAAAGA/cHvhNTLM9lQ/s1600-h/IMG_1943.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386884832211063986" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SsIPNsXhVLI/AAAAAAAAAGA/cHvhNTLM9lQ/s200/IMG_1943.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Since I did such a terrible job at explaining what the Festivity is all about, let me include some pictures!  The dances and the statue of the goddess, Durga.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SsIPNLctRdI/AAAAAAAAAF4/W1ZVEydUmJY/s1600-h/IMG_1850.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386884823374448082" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SsIPNLctRdI/AAAAAAAAAF4/W1ZVEydUmJY/s200/IMG_1850.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SsIPOL3pYDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/i0fW2iTXMqc/s1600-h/IMG_1959.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386884840667308082" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SsIPOL3pYDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/i0fW2iTXMqc/s200/IMG_1959.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-2882599444914716328?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/2882599444914716328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/festivals.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/2882599444914716328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/2882599444914716328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/festivals.html' title='Festivals'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SsIPNsXhVLI/AAAAAAAAAGA/cHvhNTLM9lQ/s72-c/IMG_1943.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-7957585256729829902</id><published>2009-09-21T05:50:00.017-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T13:19:09.509-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Different Ideas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SrdPRvwa_7I/AAAAAAAAAFg/ByuwfsyjQbQ/s1600-h/IMG_1732.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383859045840650162" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SrdPRvwa_7I/AAAAAAAAAFg/ByuwfsyjQbQ/s200/IMG_1732.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK, no specific theme today. Just a few different ideas I want to share with everyone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday we went to visit a town about 160 Km away from Indore (~100 miles). On the way there we passed by the largest, main Indian Army Base. This structure is at the entrance of the &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SrdSp-7XrxI/AAAAAAAAAFw/u6-l-rR2PGI/s1600-h/IMG_1730.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383862760764845842" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SrdSp-7XrxI/AAAAAAAAAFw/u6-l-rR2PGI/s200/IMG_1730.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;base. Isn't this a beautiful quote? "When you go home, tell them of us and say, for your tomorrow we gave our today." This is by an Indian poet whose name of course I don't remember. Another picture that reminded me of the 3 firemen at the WTC ruins lifting the flag.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Part of the road was actually pretty decent. But of course sharing the road with the cows and the goats and the scooters... it took us about 2 and a half hours to get there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;More pictures of the trip are posted on my FaceBook page.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=36344&amp;amp;id=1408545811&amp;amp;l=917302afee"&gt;http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=36344&amp;amp;id=1408545811&amp;amp;l=917302afee&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The coolest part of the trip was seeing the Narmada from up close. I actually put my hand in the water. Ever since my visit to Mandu and hearing the story of the queen Roopmati (the one with the beautiful voice who used to sing to the prince from her roof top and had only agreed to marry the king if she could see her beloved Narmada every day?) I've had a secret wish to see that river one day. Well, I did! So that was yesterday to Maheshwar. Lot's of first for me and lots of wishes being answered :-) I am eternally grateful for that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK, a few words on school. More and more I am realizing that the expression "Teaching to the test" was made to describe the Indian education system!! There needs to be no thought put into the job, it feels sometimes. As the First Year Veteran :-), yes, I have a lot of preparation, but the preparation is practically all in looking at the curriculum and making sure I cover everything that's going to be in the test! You come in, dictate to the kids what they have to know, they take notes, they study, for the most part, and everyone calls it quit! The passing score is about 30-33 %. I am confused! I don't believe in this. I am a firm advocate of an inquiry-based curriculum. I hardly do any cook-book lab with my students. Here, they prepare in advance in their lab notebook, the 4 or 5 labs they are expected to do in the year, and one day when you get to that part in the curriculum, you check their notebook that they have the recipe, take them to the lab, which is completely set up already by the lab assistant. They go in, in about 20-25 minutes they follow their recipe, collect their data, and it's done! How do they learn? What do they learn? Does this system work? The data say yes. I don't understand. I know I am not impressed. There is the other issue of tutoring! The terminal classes, they miss school a lot, but their parents are paying a fortune for private tutoring for the sacrosanct exams!! At Daly College, I am told flat out that they have a back up system for me!! Not taking a chance that I might not know the actual test questions therefore not teach the right stuff!! I don't mean the actual test questions but the right style of questioning! It's insane! But it works for them. So for that I have great admiration for them. I just don't understand how they do it. I am glad it is only for a short while I've got to do this. Maybe if all my life I was brought up in this system, I would believe in it. Now I don't. All my work with the Frontiers program would be for nothing then. Now I am more than ever committed to continue my research on comparison of the various educational systems -US, France, England and now India. I'd like to see long term effect. Yes they go on to college, and are successful. What percentage does go on to higher education, though? How do they compare with their University counterparts from the US? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK, lots of interruptions today, so my talk might be a bit disjointed. Have to stop now cause it is already 10:30PM, almost past my bedtime. Will continue another day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today was a holiday. Finally 2 days off in a row!! School is six days a week here! My first Friday back I intend to have the biggest celebration ever! TGIF!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-7957585256729829902?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/7957585256729829902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/different-ideas.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/7957585256729829902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/7957585256729829902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/different-ideas.html' title='Different Ideas'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SrdPRvwa_7I/AAAAAAAAAFg/ByuwfsyjQbQ/s72-c/IMG_1732.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-4510995776982962394</id><published>2009-09-13T21:52:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T07:23:50.323-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Mindwalk", if I may!</title><content type='html'>Mindwalk was a beautiful movie with Liv Ullman and 2 American actors, whose name of course I don't remember! They are are from my life now! and as all Alzheimer patients, I remember things from my past better than from present! A little side story about parents and administration in America. At Open House once in telling the parents that I tell the kids if they need me to review an assignment for them or communicate anything to me it is best if they write it down on paper or email. To make a joke, I thought, I said, "My memory is really bad, I think actually I was born with Alzheimer!" I think they laughed, but a couple of days later the principal called me to tell me that a parent had complained about my statement!! They did not think it was funny!! And I keep on making it!!! I don't learn good, he?!!&lt;br /&gt;So back to my movie! The whole movie was filmed in the Mont St Michel, in Normandie, France. A long conversation between a physicist, Liv Ullman, an American presidential candidate who just lost the election (the lawyer in one of those law shows, L.A. Law, I think?! very good) and an American poet, friend of the American politicien. Their conversation was about the position of humankind in the universe, sort of. Well my walk this morning took me to my position in this world, in this place right now. How am I going to be affected by this experience? What is going to be my biggest lesson? Does a big lesson have to be learned?&lt;br /&gt;Things that I know:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I will be more appreciative of our students back home, realizing that they are just like every body else. They learn, they are lazy, they joke, they question, they are rude, they are polite, some show they care, some don't, they like shopping, they like going to the movies, they think "Twilight" was the best book ever written... JUST LIKE THE STUDENTS HERE!! I love teaching because I love the interaction with the kids. I think I had lost that perspective a bit. Some of you know this story, but let me say it for those who don't. We had just finished the unit on Reproduction, and as usual I end with the National Geographic film "The Human Body" (Carole, Joanne, was that the name?! ...told you my problem, right?!) The film follows the birth of a baby from conception to actual birth. Magnificent! At the end of the movie, they show the labor pains of the woman and the actual coming out of the baby. Well, a young man, with all the stereotypical characteristics of a "hoodlum" very quietly says to himself: "I am going to give my mom a hug when I get home"! And he actually thanked me for showing them this movie. One of those moments are worth a 1000 pats on the back! &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;What can I bring the students here? An outside perspective. In studying electroplating last week with the 8th graders, last week, I told them about the American penny that used to be made of 100% copper but since 1982, we went into the war issues, copper becoming more precious now it is made of zinc inside and a thin layer of copper electroplated on the outside. Today I had to substitute for a bio teacher. The class was wild in the beginning. Double whammy for them, a substitute AND the foreign teacher! When finally I could get a word in, upon learning that they were studying migration, I told them about the turtles &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SrEAOpS9wcI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/0mMpdugumJ8/s1600-h/IMG_1697.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382083281288020418" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SrEAOpS9wcI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/0mMpdugumJ8/s200/IMG_1697.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;that lay their eggs in Key Biscayne and go off to West coast of Africa and come back to assist their baby hatching. There was suddenly silence in the room. You mean they cross the ocean? We talked about "Flying Home" and the ultralights. That was it, I had them! I worry about their sacrosanct exams! Not with the substitution class, but with my regular class. They have a very prescribed curriculum which must be known and regurgitated as is! So will it matter that they know about our copper penny? The way I see it, it's a "stretching exercise" for the mind, applying something they know to a new model. It is good practice for learning, no?!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;In conclusion, I miss home, I miss coffee in the morning with Pantal, I miss hopping in my car for an errand, I miss Sunday soup at Elsie, then "les Danie's" visit. I miss fights with Sole, and then long talks :-) Friday movie nights with Boris and Danielle (see, they don't have a TV at their house!) or by myself. I miss relaxing moments with my colleagues in the hallway between classes at CRHS. Long phone conversations with Pascale. Being able to call on Nael for anything I need! Antoine's cameo visits, once in a blue moon. My iPhone! Bike riding to school. OK, let me stop before I need another Pizza Hut dinner!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The list might seem long, but I have to admit, I am committed to my time here. I love being here, I love teaching, I appreciate my colleagues here, I am baffled by India, I want to absorb it all. I want to understand, if only slightly! I am learning. I am happy. :-)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-4510995776982962394?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/4510995776982962394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/mindwalk-if-i-may.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/4510995776982962394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/4510995776982962394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/mindwalk-if-i-may.html' title='&quot;Mindwalk&quot;, if I may!'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SrEAOpS9wcI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/0mMpdugumJ8/s72-c/IMG_1697.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-2215112566708977430</id><published>2009-09-11T11:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T12:19:59.289-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids are kids everywhere...</title><content type='html'>Now this is going to come as a surprise!  I am not sure I understand fully.  Over and over everyone said, discipline problem, you will never have!  I saw the kids during Assembly, they stand when you walk into the classroom and won't sit until you tell do so!  I was prepared for that.  Yesterday, one of the few times ever in a classroom, I was totally ineffective!  That was my 11th grade Chemistry class.  It was really quite impossible for me to conduct class.  After the usual ceremonial of standing, and their "Good Morning, Mam", the class suddenly became a group of hoodlums of the worst kind!  The students were talking, they turned their back to the front of the class, got out of their chair here and there, to conduct their conversation.  No matter what I said, they just kept at it.  So finally I told them how disappointed I was, what a group of hypocrite I thought they were, to after such a show of respect, of getting up when I entered the room that they would carry on like that.  After a bit of probing on my part, their response was so totally typical of any teenager, "well, we feel you are not really our teacher.  You are here for a little while and then you'll be gone!"  I had to straighten them on 2 counts.  One, for now, I was the teacher, two, as the teacher, the material taught by me they will be responsible for it!!  It really took me by surprise!  I remember a past Fulbrighter had said experiencing the same thing when he was in India last year.  See, just like any teenager, they'll push the button to see how far they can go.  After class they were all repentant and came to apologize to me.  The next day, Mr. Moyde who teaches this class also had me go with him to the class, he read them the riot act and after that, everything has been OK.&lt;br /&gt;This is so unfair to the American student!  I am sure if Mrs. Badhwar said she had experienced this horrible behavior in her classroom in Miami, we would all have said, yes, we understand.  We actually expected it!  But I find myself totally flabbergasted by this experience with the Indian students!  Well, it's good to know, kids are kids everywhere! :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-2215112566708977430?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/2215112566708977430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/kids-are-kids-everywhere.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/2215112566708977430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/2215112566708977430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/kids-are-kids-everywhere.html' title='Kids are kids everywhere...'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-47857539373291201</id><published>2009-09-09T08:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T10:09:32.221-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not a Bollywood movie!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, Antoine, my son, who lives in a penthouse apartment in the heart of downtown, while "skyping" with him went out on his balcony and had us see a view of downtown Miami!!  The sky was just perfect! Blue with just a few beautiful white clouds!  First major case of nostalgia followed!  So to feel better, we had Pizza Hut dinner!  It helped at first, but then came another major case, this time, of guilty conscience!!  To show "Le bonheur parfait n'est pas de ce monde!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today educational movie after morning assembly.  It was about the kids or Slumdogs of India.  The movie was there again.  But this time Bollywood was not involved.  It was the real thing.  Heart wrenching!  The strange thing is as they tell their stories, as you see them going over these piles of garbage, looking for what?! they seem matter of fact.  Their smile is genuine.  They hug each other, they push each other around to have their beautiful faces in the camera, they play around, you really feel not for the camera's sake but because that's what kids do.  Did I see this in their eyes so I can feel better and go about my business as usual?!  I don't know folk, but these kids were genuine.  They were just telling their story not to make us feel pity for them, just to tell it.  "I wake up at 3 AM to get to the garbage dump early."  "This water is contaminated, so we don't drink it, we just wash in it." :-/ We're talking sewage water, folks!  we're talking young kids, starting at it seems 5 years old.  One had a wish to become a policeman.  They said they had to bribe the garbage controller sometimes so they would be allowed to go through the garbage.  What are they looking for?  My question is still out there!  The bag they collected looked to me to hold just garbage!  The poverty issue is one that I will never come to grip with.  I know it is not an India problem, it is a world problem.  I am very familiar with it in Haiti.  But somehow because the population is so great here, it seems to be multiplied a hundredfold!!  To solve it would require an amount of good will on the part of humankind that we don't have yet.  An hour after watching the movie was tea time, the kids went about their usual business of taking their pastry, some eating half of it and throwing it away.  I tasted the cookie, didn't like it and left it.  Would they be interested in bettering their situation?  I am not asking the question right.  What I mean is, do they feel the injustice?  Is there a solution?  Again that missing goodwill!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone I have asked here what they had thought of "Slumdog Millionaire" said it was exagerated, not reallity at all.  Well, from what I saw today, it was too soft if anything!  The garbage dump.  Looking for what?!  The "benefactor" position, we saw at Khajuraho.  All these young kids calling you to "their" store, with all the tricks - if it is not a missing eye, it was a broken leg, a missing hand, or another aproach, knowing a couple of sentences in any language to catch your attention.  Then making sure the owner knew who had sent you there.  The fierceness in their approach.  It was all there.  But just like in the movie, the impression that they are not calling for your sympathy, they are just telling their story.  Remember the brother at his final moment?... "God is good." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like India.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-47857539373291201?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/47857539373291201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/not-bollywood-movie.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/47857539373291201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/47857539373291201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/not-bollywood-movie.html' title='Not a Bollywood movie!'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-4249456784787091564</id><published>2009-09-08T07:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T11:08:47.525-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Chemistry Department Excursion</title><content type='html'>This past Sunday we went to a city called Mandu about 65 miles from Indore. It is built on a plateau 2000 ft above sea level. It is a fortified city, protected by a deep gorge on 3 sides. Each of the castles, or temples have their own special story which I will briefly talk about as I, one &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SqZMwC9eyWI/AAAAAAAAADk/ALH99R5Xq9I/s1600-h/IMG_1514.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379071193252809058" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SqZMwC9eyWI/AAAAAAAAADk/ALH99R5Xq9I/s200/IMG_1514.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;more fantastic than the other. It took us a little over 3 hours to get there (65 miles!) ...and we think our roads were bad in Haiti!! Not only do you deal with broken roads in parts, but also remember the cows, goats, people, rickshaws, monkeys!!!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SqZTJnsoqLI/AAAAAAAAAD8/4n7kbfPcmeQ/s1600-h/IMG_1463.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379078229680761010" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SqZTJnsoqLI/AAAAAAAAAD8/4n7kbfPcmeQ/s200/IMG_1463.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All along the road we could see the remnants of the forts, castles, temples, that were part of the city. It was built in the 900's-1500's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of the most romantic story is the one of a king named Bahadur who heard the beautiful Roopmati sing one day in the forest, fell in love with her. He wanted to marry her but she insisted that the only way she would marry him was if she could &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SqZRpNk6J_I/AAAAAAAAADs/T0RKTtyLQW0/s1600-h/IMG_1480.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379076573401589746" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SqZRpNk6J_I/AAAAAAAAADs/T0RKTtyLQW0/s200/IMG_1480.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;see the river Narmada, that runs through the state of Madhya Pradesh (where Indore and Mandu are located). So he built her a castle way up on the plateau where she could see the river! And his castle was built right below hers so she could serenade him from the left tour you see on her castle!!&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SqZRppZHwsI/AAAAAAAAAD0/TOERfI4CYYY/s1600-h/IMG_1495.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379076580868342466" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SqZRppZHwsI/AAAAAAAAAD0/TOERfI4CYYY/s200/IMG_1495.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;How romantic is that?!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then there is the king who had 1500 wives!! The women actually ran the place!! They had their own castle that had 6 levels, 3 underground and 3 above ground. There was an incredible ventilation system with a body of water around it which was like the best AC system you could imagine! They had the best sona ever! One side had like a chimney (lower left of picture) that heated up the water on one side of the bath (upper right side) and the other side was cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And we thought we were so clever!! &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SqZVuks-7II/AAAAAAAAAEE/RZADqsV1Eko/s1600-h/IMG_1610.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379081063555329154" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SqZVuks-7II/AAAAAAAAAEE/RZADqsV1Eko/s200/IMG_1610.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the pool for the queens. Do you see the beautiful filtration system? Those curved canals were filled with charcoal and the water allowed to pass through them to fill the pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SqZVvLW1qtI/AAAAAAAAAEM/z_vshUkdEfg/s1600-h/IMG_1588.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379081073931430610" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SqZVvLW1qtI/AAAAAAAAAEM/z_vshUkdEfg/s200/IMG_1588.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These stairs are the "gym" for those ladies!! The king would drop gold coins on the steps and have them go up and down the steps to exercise!! I tell you, just going up them was hard, I can't imagine bending to pick up something, even gold coins!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SqZVvki_akI/AAAAAAAAAEU/KTXbrzJoTQQ/s1600-h/IMG_1531.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379081080693287490" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SqZVvki_akI/AAAAAAAAAEU/KTXbrzJoTQQ/s200/IMG_1531.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All in all it was a very enjoyable day. It gave me an opportunity to interact with my colleagues on a personal level and it was interesting. I have been having a private issue with them speaking Hindi in the office in front of me all the times. It was as if they did not speak English at all. And to say it frankly, it used to bother me a bit. And I think, to see them in this less formal setting, doing it so naturally and at the same time so obviously enjoying my being there, I understood there was no carelessness or malice involved. This is just them. Hindi is their language and they speak it among themselves naturally. I think if they had to force themselves to speak English all the times they would then resent me or something. And so, I am there with them, it's good, and life goes on. I don't know if I made sense here, but what's important, I get it. I went back to school on Monday with a different disposition to sit in the lab and not understand a word that they said. I interrupt and ask for translation from time to time and they very gracefully oblige and continue their conversation. I start Hindi classes tomorrow :-) I can't say I'll be short of practice opportunities!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SqZVvLW1qtI/AAAAAAAAAEM/z_vshUkdEfg/s1600-h/IMG_1588.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379108719888475906" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SqZu4YkopwI/AAAAAAAAAFI/ge3sVy0bR7c/s200/IMG_1452.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-4249456784787091564?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/4249456784787091564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/chemistry-department-excursion.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/4249456784787091564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/4249456784787091564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/chemistry-department-excursion.html' title='Chemistry Department Excursion'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SqZMwC9eyWI/AAAAAAAAADk/ALH99R5Xq9I/s72-c/IMG_1514.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-6955220688976877306</id><published>2009-09-05T06:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T09:01:00.244-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a pleasure, it's an Honor...</title><content type='html'>to be a teacher.  Today in India is Teacher Day.  The walk that normally takes me 10 minutes from my apartment to the Chemistry lab to the cafeteria, took me more than double the time.  I was back at Coral Gables in the years 1994-1995 when Sole was attending "The Little Cavaliers" and the walk from the parking lot to the Nursery room, was such an eventful walk with something new everyday, if it wasn't the chirping of the bird, it was the shape of the water puddle here that was different from the one there and an explanation was needed!  Today it was because every person I met on the way stopped me to wish me "Happy Teacher's Day".  I was explained by many that today India celebrates teachers in honor of a past president who was a Physics teacher, whose birthday was September 5th.  He was such a dedicated teacher that on this day the country thought they would honor him by honoring all teachers.  Isn't that a beautiful thought?  I wish I could make my family and friends understand the great joy it gives me to be a classroom teacher.  When I have difficult moments with Administration, with parents of students who are rather unhappy with the way I am teaching their children or with some students who would rather be anywhere but in my classroom (my "columbines" as my friend Gisele calls them!!), some try to encourage me to get out of the classroom and do something else with my life.  It might feel to the outside it's a lot of work for very little recognition or peace of mind.  A guess speaker at Coral Gables had suggested to us teachers to cut out a hand model, paste it on the wall, at shoulder height and from time to time go tap our shoulder to the wall whenever we felt like a pat on the back :-)  Today with all the good wishes, I have stored a few pats that will lasts me for a while!  How do I explain, nothing would give me as much pleasure but to be among this incredible group of people whose life's work is being celebrated today?! &lt;br /&gt;The kids were incredible!  One young man in my class was rather unruly at the beginning of class in my first period.  (Yes, Hildegarde, they can be just like our kids State side!!)  A few minutes later, he asked permission to stand, apologized to me for his behavior and wished me a Happy Teacher Day!  There was one morning assembly this morning for classes 7th to 12th.  The upper class students (4 of them) were sharing with the school their presentation for a competition that they have been working on, on the Carbon footprint of their community at Daly College.  During tea time, they came to the tea room to apologize to the faculty for not having wished us Happy Teacher's Day before getting into their presentation.  They really take this seriously, here!!&lt;br /&gt;I thought I'd add a short clip of morning meditation at DC.  You will only hear the students as I felt a bit shy videotaping such a special moment of their day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                         &lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-45240de49847dae9" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" 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bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v14.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D45240de49847dae9%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330026747%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D857CCBC0577C431138B5B93573BD20EBDBBE7E58.22B766AC143BEACA37929CE1A57B86EC20817B8A%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D45240de49847dae9%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DDDZE00hWAn0UkDcs0Lhn-xtBpQg&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-6955220688976877306?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=45240de49847dae9&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/6955220688976877306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-pleasure-its-honor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/6955220688976877306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/6955220688976877306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/its-pleasure-its-honor.html' title='It&apos;s a pleasure, it&apos;s an Honor...'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-8146926402998988027</id><published>2009-09-02T12:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T12:54:38.302-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Morning prayers</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-be66d8cc3b3ba3f3" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v5.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dbe66d8cc3b3ba3f3%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330026747%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6494E895AFE45336A0DA00A5EBA1E9D2E49108B1.20DA19E788E3C570D91647D6845F19380F636666%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dbe66d8cc3b3ba3f3%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DQkRPnVih-SlZWURTIabnczrXuQQ&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v5.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dbe66d8cc3b3ba3f3%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330026747%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6494E895AFE45336A0DA00A5EBA1E9D2E49108B1.20DA19E788E3C570D91647D6845F19380F636666%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dbe66d8cc3b3ba3f3%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DQkRPnVih-SlZWURTIabnczrXuQQ&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is the start of the day at Daly College.  Life here sometimes reminds me of the movie "Au Revoir, les Enfants".  The old building, the feeling of "old money" everywhere, the strictness, the uniforms, the teachers so remote sometimes, the desks with the hinged covers!!!  There is even a young man who could be the traitor!  Beautiful face, angel like that his beauty might be considered his handicap.  And he is a young servant who brings messages around.  I can imagine a strange relationship going on between him and the students!!  Hopefully no war will break out so he won't have to betray them by telling on them!!! :-)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-8146926402998988027?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=be66d8cc3b3ba3f3&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/8146926402998988027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/morning-prayers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/8146926402998988027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/8146926402998988027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/morning-prayers.html' title='Morning prayers'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-4325475410284131566</id><published>2009-09-01T11:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T11:38:53.823-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny incident</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kahlil, who does volunteer work at the Barli Institute (a charitable organization who helps young girls in trouble) was asked a few days ago when he got to work to cut the grass, as it was pretty high. Great he said, where is the lawn mower?! They handed him a pair of scissors looking thing!!! After 4 hours of work and 5 days since the job was done, he is still sore from the experience!! You must share this with Ron, Pantal!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Sp0_gweOLJI/AAAAAAAAAC0/jH3PSGR-Fjo/s1600-h/IMG_1332.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376523362150263954" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Sp0_gweOLJI/AAAAAAAAAC0/jH3PSGR-Fjo/s200/IMG_1332.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Sp0_hC_LwsI/AAAAAAAAAC8/SI4GHJxQOC4/s1600-h/IMG_1334.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376523367120356034" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Sp0_hC_LwsI/AAAAAAAAAC8/SI4GHJxQOC4/s200/IMG_1334.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is how it's done in India :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-4325475410284131566?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/4325475410284131566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/funny-incident.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/4325475410284131566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/4325475410284131566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/funny-incident.html' title='Funny incident'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Sp0_gweOLJI/AAAAAAAAAC0/jH3PSGR-Fjo/s72-c/IMG_1332.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-7069585480228104140</id><published>2009-09-01T09:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T10:34:16.140-04:00</updated><title type='text'>50 Gourdes vs 200 Rupees!</title><content type='html'>I am so confused and sad and perturbed by an incident that just occurred here I have to make a comment about it now! There is a young woman who helps us in the apartment with cleaning, washing. She comes here twice a day seven days a week. I just gave her 200 rupees. Do you understand what this means? At today's rate this means I just paid her $4.20 for two weeks of work. This is mind boggling! I feel like I am part of a situation that is no good! What is right? When I had the discussion of what I should pay this woman, the decision was to pay her 350 rupees a month. The reasoning was, you give her more then she will come to expect more from her next employer, which might not be possible for this person. This then unbalances the system! Well this is a rotten system, if you ask me! And I am not comparing our system in the States to the one here. I am going back to my roots here and remembering my mother negotiating 50 gourdes (that was $10 US back then!) to each of a pair of twin sisters who had come to work for us when I was a young teenager. Why this incident? Because, if I remember correctly they wanted 50.00 gourdes each and my Mother in her infinite wisdom felt that since they were twins, she should get a discount of some sort!! "2 for the price of 1"!! The poverty here can really be suffoca&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Sp0vhpXWzbI/AAAAAAAAACk/kj83JTd8MIw/s1600-h/IMG_1139.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376505785236245938" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Sp0vhpXWzbI/AAAAAAAAACk/kj83JTd8MIw/s200/IMG_1139.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ting at times! I will continue with this topic over and over ag&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Sp0vitKy_RI/AAAAAAAAACs/P1OIpoXHfz0/s1600-h/IMG_1140.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376505803437178130" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Sp0vitKy_RI/AAAAAAAAACs/P1OIpoXHfz0/s200/IMG_1140.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is right outside the gates of our school! People live in there! I don't get it! I am not going to get it I think in all the times I will be here. But I sure will continue on trying to understand and make sense of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-7069585480228104140?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/7069585480228104140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-am-so-confused-and-sad-and-perturbed.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/7069585480228104140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/7069585480228104140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-am-so-confused-and-sad-and-perturbed.html' title='50 Gourdes vs 200 Rupees!'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Sp0vhpXWzbI/AAAAAAAAACk/kj83JTd8MIw/s72-c/IMG_1139.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-8594517281170807791</id><published>2009-08-31T12:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T13:05:31.847-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Driving in India</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SpwAAdQXRlI/AAAAAAAAACU/dOaNfU98t9Q/s1600-h/IMG_1402.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376172063026792018" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SpwAAdQXRlI/AAAAAAAAACU/dOaNfU98t9Q/s200/IMG_1402.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not sure why I am starting this topic now! This deserves a few hours! And now I only have a few minutes. Well, it is actually going to come up often in my talks. Whenever I go anywhere, some incidents on the road will come up ...so driving in India is the perfect application of the saying"La &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;raison&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;du&lt;/span&gt; plus fort est &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;toujours&lt;/span&gt; la &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;meilleure&lt;/span&gt;!" Now when "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;le&lt;/span&gt; plus fort" is a massive cow or a buffalo, I understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Spv64OaXbaI/AAAAAAAAAB8/F6J1USfoA7M/s1600-h/IMG_1412.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 190px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 123px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376166424045120930" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Spv64OaXbaI/AAAAAAAAAB8/F6J1USfoA7M/s200/IMG_1412.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When it is a goat or a tiny rickshaw driver or a family - that means, Dad, Mom, and two babies-one on Mom's lap, the other on Dad's, I have some issue with the picture! It is truly mad driving here! No &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SpwBuXZz88I/AAAAAAAAACc/lJoR2-AG_VI/s1600-h/IMG_1192.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 163px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 135px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376173951241417666" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SpwBuXZz88I/AAAAAAAAACc/lJoR2-AG_VI/s200/IMG_1192.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;wonder I was so strongly recommended to not attempt driving here. Between cows and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;buffaloes&lt;/span&gt;, trucks, vegetable push carts, mopeds, cycles, the adorable rickshaw (I haven't figured out yet how, but I know I will bring one back with me to the states!) people and more people, goats, dogs, pigs and finally cars it is an absolute mad house on the road! Haiti has not seen the 100&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of this maddening crowd in the streets. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK, so everyone I am sure has an image in their mind of cows and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;buffalo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Spv-YcrvlcI/AAAAAAAAACE/nHKINOqEtmU/s1600-h/IMG_1195.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376170276166800834" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Spv-YcrvlcI/AAAAAAAAACE/nHKINOqEtmU/s200/IMG_1195.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;es&lt;/span&gt; and goats walking down &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Spv-Yyv66gI/AAAAAAAAACM/knkLFCGQ-Rk/s1600-h/IMG_1194.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376170282089900546" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Spv-Yyv66gI/AAAAAAAAACM/knkLFCGQ-Rk/s200/IMG_1194.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;the streets, right? Now did anyone think of this picture?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mind boggling! They are totally oblivious of you and anything around them! These are not just a few isolated incidents! It's all over the place!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-8594517281170807791?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/8594517281170807791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/08/driving-in-india.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/8594517281170807791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/8594517281170807791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/08/driving-in-india.html' title='Driving in India'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SpwAAdQXRlI/AAAAAAAAACU/dOaNfU98t9Q/s72-c/IMG_1402.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-3171770985361954338</id><published>2009-08-28T00:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T01:24:29.253-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More about DC</title><content type='html'>Last week  we had a much more elaborate tea time one day.  It was announced that the reason for the party was to celebrate one of the Faculty member who was blessed with a child!  Isn't that a lovely idea!! :-)&lt;br /&gt;On Wednesday there was a quiz competition among the different Houses.  They had to answer questions form different topics, Current Events, Arts, sports, science and technology, and a few others.  At the end of the competition, the Head Teacher in charge of Cultural Affairs commented to the audience how in the past 30 years he's been around the results to the quiz es have lowered.  And he was right.  I don't know how much they knew before, but I wasn't too impressed by their knowledge.  Not worst nor better that I would have expected from our students, I think.  Also I say the same about my teaching back home.  I am not sure in my case what the issue is.  Is it that we are expecting less and therefore they are giving less back?  Why the lowered expectation?  Questions for me to explore further!  Any comments would be appreciated!&lt;br /&gt;Teaching here is not an easy task.  So far what I can say is the system is certainly not better than ours in the States.  It is very different.  I will definitely continue on this topic again and again.&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to go.  Tea time soon and I have to meet with a teacher who might be making me some of the beautiful clothes the women wear around here!!  Hooray!&lt;br /&gt;After lunch today, the school has arranged a trip for us to Kahajuro, where there are many beautiful temples it appears.  We are leaving at 2 to Bhopal to get there around 6-7.  Then an overnight train (Slumdog Millionaire here we come!  Ever since I've seen that movie I've been fascinated by those trains!)  We'll be back on Monday evening.  So till then everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-3171770985361954338?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/3171770985361954338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/08/more-about-dc.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/3171770985361954338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/3171770985361954338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/08/more-about-dc.html' title='More about DC'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-1241387169630491588</id><published>2009-08-25T11:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T03:55:01.683-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Daily Schedule</title><content type='html'>The long silence is due to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; connection issues.  First the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;internet&lt;/span&gt; itself has been rather sporadic.  Adding electricity interruption, you get a much frustrated person!  Lots to tell today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post I am hoping my colleagues at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;CRHS&lt;/span&gt; are not reading! I would like to talk about the daily schedule at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Daly&lt;/span&gt; College, aka "DC" by everyone in Indore. The school day starts at 8 AM with breakfast. Then at 8:30 the "Houses" (Very Harry Potter&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, Sam and Paolo!  I will talk about them again later) line up and in neat rows they move to the auditorium - 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, 8&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; and 10&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; graders; to the gym - 11&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; and 12&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; graders. I am not sure where the smaller grades go to. This is Assembly time. Starts off with a prayer, meditation time, then a student presentation. I spoke of my awe at their behavior during assembly last week. It hasn't changed.  A friend commented that this might be a better use of time than our 1 minute of silence in our American schools.  I am not sure that it would be better but what is important is to have this common desire and common respect for the work that is about to start.  The Master Teacher then says "May God be with us in work and in play."  And the whole student body repeats.  So far the student presentation has been a report about a service that a student or group of students have performed in the past month or two.  This could have taken them as far as California, South Africa or the Himalayas. They participate in building of schools, hospitals, teaching young children, learning about themselves through workshops, games.  You name it, those kids have done it.  I am very impressed.  Mrs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Badhwar&lt;/span&gt;, who has exchanged teaching post with me is mostly responsible for these opportunities the students are given.  They always show much appreciation for her and the DC principal, Mr. Singh for having given them such an opportunity. &lt;br /&gt;At the conclusion of the Assembly, the school day starts.  9:10AM.  Three classes of 40 minutes each.  No time in between.  The students stay in their rooms and the teachers go to them.  It's difficult for me to give up MY room concept!  You also move with your chalk and "duster" (aka "eraser"!)  form class to class!!  Today first time I actually remembered to take mine.  That's progress!  Then after those 3 classes is tea time.  Their are two staff rooms, one for the women one for the men.  We meet there for the most delicious &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;chai&lt;/span&gt; (or coffee sometimes) and snacks.  (Remember I promised a post on food in India?... still not ready!)  The students also take their tea by class level on the school ground.  Again boys separate from girls!  After tea there are 4 more classes but now 35 minutes long.  This takes us to 1:40 PM when we break for lunch.  There is one more class after lunch for the upper classes (10 and up).  Then they have games until about 4:10 PM. &lt;br /&gt;Now, my schedule!  Monday I teach 5 classes, Tuesday and Wednesday ONE class (imagine teaching 35 minutes for the whole day!), &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Thursday&lt;/span&gt; and Friday 2 classes and Saturday 4 classes.  ...died and went to heaven? that's what I'd say!  It gets better! In the Chemistry lab there are 3 or 4 assistants, which means if you are doing a lab, you give them a copy of the lab, and they have everything, solutions, chemicals, all materials, neatly ready for you and your class!  And after the lab, everything gets cleaned and put away by them!  I wouldn't be a teacher if I didn't complain!  Though school is technically over after lunch at about 2:10, we have to stay on campus until about 4:15.  To supervise the kids in their games, tutoring or just the presence of a teacher.  None of that "out the door before the students" behavior!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's post was very facts oriented.  I wanted to give a view of our day at DC.  I have all 3 meals in the mess hall.  Breakfast at 8, lunch at 1:40 and Kahlil and I walk back to school at 8PM for dinner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-1241387169630491588?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/1241387169630491588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/08/daily-schedule.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/1241387169630491588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/1241387169630491588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/08/daily-schedule.html' title='Daily Schedule'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-7037538048775368033</id><published>2009-08-22T06:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T06:40:53.134-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Finances</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/So_LDPygcOI/AAAAAAAAABs/39rHFcX_VSM/s1600-h/IMG_1076.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372736137114710242" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/So_LDPygcOI/AAAAAAAAABs/39rHFcX_VSM/s200/IMG_1076.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/So_LCyWMV2I/AAAAAAAAABk/rg1WELlNCbY/s1600-h/IMG_1070.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372736129211324258" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/So_LCyWMV2I/AAAAAAAAABk/rg1WELlNCbY/s200/IMG_1070.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/So_LCe0w0vI/AAAAAAAAABc/bqZIy_Ag_eI/s1600-h/IMG_1068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372736123970835186" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/So_LCe0w0vI/AAAAAAAAABc/bqZIy_Ag_eI/s200/IMG_1068.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/So_LB5xpU7I/AAAAAAAAABU/qIynLdIYuD4/s1600-h/IMG_1059.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372736114025649074" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/So_LB5xpU7I/AAAAAAAAABU/qIynLdIYuD4/s200/IMG_1059.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This post is going to go straight to the hearts of those of you who have been to Europe lately... travelling in a foreign country you are expecting to exchange money, right?... Well, like everyone else, I did just that upon arriving in Frankfurt for our 6 hour lay-over. We exchanged $40.00, Kahlil and I had breakfast, consisting of a coffee and a croissant for me, and soup and an apple juice for Kap! We left Frankfurt 6 hours later with 3 Euros! Oops, I forgot, I also got a huge chocolate bar upon landing! Now arriving in India I changed $200.00. Six days later I have about 60 Rs. what have we done? Lunch in Delhi, 2 days. Visit in a Rickshaw (Pictures will be posted shortly!) to the India Gate and the Red Fort. Taxi to the Airport in Delhi. Settling in Indore (though most everything was already set for us when we arrived), little house knic knack that we still needed. A beautiful Kamaaz (picture will follow!) for me - haven't dared the Saree yet! Nice dinner Kahlil and I after our shopping spree last night. Think I am done?... nope! Cell phone and syms (?) card with 500 Rs balance on the card!!! Dannie, Pantal, don't you wish your seminar this summer was in India?! Even Haiti can not compare!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are two topics that I havent touched upon yet. Foods and the Slumdogs. Both deserve a session all to themselves. The first one I am getting it slowly and I am almost ready to discuss this issue! The second one needs a bit more thoughts and understanding on my part. Not ready!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK, till another day. I will post the pictures in a little while.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-7037538048775368033?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/7037538048775368033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/08/finances.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/7037538048775368033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/7037538048775368033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/08/finances.html' title='Finances'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/So_LDPygcOI/AAAAAAAAABs/39rHFcX_VSM/s72-c/IMG_1076.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-6271753271248364047</id><published>2009-08-21T05:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T06:08:33.341-04:00</updated><title type='text'>First Year Veteran.</title><content type='html'>How can a 22-year veteran feel like a brand new teacher in the classroom?!  Send him/her half way around the world and it will happen!  This is exactly how I felt yesterday and today.  Wonderful experience.  Nothing better to force you to evaluate what you are doing and put your teaching in perspective. &lt;br /&gt;I wish I had Mildred's verve or Jean-Claude's commands of words who can tell you a precise thought or idea in just one line.  I, on the other hand, will have to go around and around to explain to you my total awe at the Daly College!  Morning Assembly, mind boggling!  A huge auditorium of 7th, 8th, 9th and 10th graders and you could hear a pin drop.  First the prayer, then yoga meditation.  Words fail me to report the reverence in those young persons!  Without any more prompting than the "bell" ringer, everyone's eyes closed canting, ummmmmmm! ummmmm!!  I could only stare at the audience tears streaming down my face!  Then students presentation (today two students presented their experience in an exchange program that they had participated in.)  At the conclusion of their talk, the principal had a few announcements.  Tomorrow is casual dress day.  Anyone who wishes can dress casually for the wooping cost of 60Rs. (that's about $1.3) Fundraising for an organization of which I am forgetting the name now, but they purchase material for school and hospital construction.  I was right back at CRHS then, hearing Mrs. Leal giving parameters for the "casual dress idea"!  Plus ca change, plus ca demeure pareil!!  Incredible.  Then the vice-principal simply had to announce the order in which they will be leaving the auditorium and it happened. 10A boys, then 10A girls, 10B boys...  Nothing had to be repeated because you could hear him wisper the number! &lt;br /&gt;Had two classes today.  All went well. &lt;br /&gt;Got to go! Meeting with my colleagues.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-6271753271248364047?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/6271753271248364047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-year-veteran.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/6271753271248364047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/6271753271248364047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-year-veteran.html' title='First Year Veteran.'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-747438966636406342</id><published>2009-08-18T07:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T07:52:55.517-04:00</updated><title type='text'>First Impression</title><content type='html'>OK, first India impression?  The plane was highjacked and we landed in Jamaica instead!!  How did Roma and Xavier not tell me this?!  Could be the driving on the WRONG side of the road! but that was definitely both Kahlil's and my impression!  The recommendation of reading "The White Tiger was incredibly appropriate... the street book venders! the drivers!  the hotels... you name it it was there.  Delhi is a city to behold.  Couldn't live there, though.  Too busy and noisy!  It is judt busting with life everywhere, all the time! Today and yesterday were a little more quiet, though... why?  The Rickshaw drivers were on strike!  and those, my friends are to be reckoned with around here.  So France doesn't have the corner on strikers, as I thought!  &lt;div&gt;We had some interesting guess speakers these past two days, preparing us for the next few months.  The Fulbright staff, USIEF (United States India Educational Foundation), the US Embassy put out their best foot forward to prepare us for all eventualities.  Hopefully all will go well.  One thing is for sure, every one we met was very welcoming and the foreigners (Americans or ...) wouldn't give their spot for nothing in the world, was the impression we got.  So, looking forward to a wonderful experience.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the airport now, waiting for our flight to Indore... and life in India will really start! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kahlil is sure is a positive addition to my trip.  Nothing puts him off!  "Kahlil, it's going to be very hot."  "Yeah, I can't wait!"  "Kahlil, security is a great concern." "Yeah, I can't wait!"  "Don't eat any fresh fruit and vegetables" "Yeah, I can't wait"  Life is really just a bowl of pitted cherries for him.  :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK, I have to stop.  Will continue when I get HOME!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-747438966636406342?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/747438966636406342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-impression.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/747438966636406342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/747438966636406342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-impression.html' title='First Impression'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-791768202352913084</id><published>2009-08-16T10:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T11:02:55.745-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Big Day is here'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Soge4cKC-wI/AAAAAAAAABM/WvEu_-C14uo/s1600-h/IMG_1045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370576510619155202" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Soge4cKC-wI/AAAAAAAAABM/WvEu_-C14uo/s200/IMG_1045.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Birthday, Pantal. August 14th, about 9AM - went to a serious meltdown!! If Rachel was not there, I would not be here!! I guess it was a combination of seeing her beautiful familiar face, Nael being his usual "I am your man" attitude, Sole (I won't go there!) and the realization that I wasn't going to see them for a while AND the fact that I was still not done with packing that just made me lose it completely. So Rachel took over and by the time Muriel came into the picture, between Rachel offering to give me a Xanax and Muriel suggesting that a good shot of Barbancourt would be quicker and more efficient :-) I was almost my old self again! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are off.  Good bye, everyone, we'll continue our dialogue from India!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-791768202352913084?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/feeds/791768202352913084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/08/happy-birthday-pantal.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/791768202352913084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/791768202352913084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/08/happy-birthday-pantal.html' title=''/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/Soge4cKC-wI/AAAAAAAAABM/WvEu_-C14uo/s72-c/IMG_1045.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6555479781577744893.post-5608688170802733498</id><published>2009-07-21T09:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T09:25:17.195-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Introduction to Indian food!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SmXAdoLT49I/AAAAAAAAABE/4-doAJG-4SE/s1600-h/IMG_0367.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360902546688041938" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SmXAdoLT49I/AAAAAAAAABE/4-doAJG-4SE/s320/IMG_0367.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SmXAdLb6q5I/AAAAAAAAAA8/2e6Hwgurd-4/s1600-h/IMG_0366.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360902538973064082" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SmXAdLb6q5I/AAAAAAAAAA8/2e6Hwgurd-4/s320/IMG_0366.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SmXAc8UONOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/j9b7YPRsyco/s1600-h/IMG_0365.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360902534914258146" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SmXAc8UONOI/AAAAAAAAAA0/j9b7YPRsyco/s320/IMG_0365.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Friends who took me to an Indian restaurant "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Imlee&lt;/span&gt;" to introduce me to Indian cooking! It was delicious and notice, no forks!! A Rome &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;il&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;faut&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;faire&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;comme&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;les&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Romains&lt;/span&gt;!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6555479781577744893-5608688170802733498?l=isabelleinindia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/5608688170802733498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6555479781577744893/posts/default/5608688170802733498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelleinindia.blogspot.com/2009/07/introduction-to-indian-food.html' title='Introduction to Indian food!'/><author><name>IsabelleCamille</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14168510215333312712</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lVQ_g6DcuAM/SmXAdoLT49I/AAAAAAAAABE/4-doAJG-4SE/s72-c/IMG_0367.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>
