DukeEngage | Duke Center for Civic Engagement

    I wish I thought that any words I wrote could do this situation justice.  I wish I could convey the raw emotion experienced today, our last day at Adikmet, and the awe that I was struck with as I realized that tremendous strides have been made and that bridges have been built in the past eight weeks.  I wish I could show the scene the took place as we left: literally every single student in the school had gathered outside or was standing by the open windows to say goodbye, many of them in tears.
    I’ve thought a lot about how I should write this blog.  What words could aptly convey this experience?  How could I possibly describe my feelings when I witnessed the tears of every single boy and girl in our Telugu class?  How could anyone outside of this tight-knit group actually understand the pain we felt upon leaving these children behind?  And how could I honestly explain the millions of emotions we are feeling, when I went from sobs to hysterical laughter and back to sobs again today at Adikmet?  The truth is, I can’t.
    But, to me, that is the beauty of what I have been fortunate enough to experience during this project.  DukeEngage has given me, my fellow Duke students, and our amazing sponsors the opportunity of a lifetime, and it is something that will bond us and stay with us forever.  As much as we can describe people, places, and emotions to those at home, I know that I can never really describe this experience; somehow, however, that’s okay.  What really matters is that all of us have been changed for the better, and none of us will ever forget this experience.  We have witnessed a million unfamiliar (and sometimes uncomfortable) situations, we have felt deeply intense emotions (both good and bad), and we all have been changed for the better.
    So here’s to all the students and teachers at Adikmet, to the Prasads, and to the amazing group of students in this group… together, we have made the past eight weeks entirely unforgettable and some of the most worthwhile weeks of our lives.  Maybe we didn’t change the world, but we sure changed each other.

The first site we entered at the inception of our trip was Safrani Memorial High School; today, we ended our project there.  Running gamut of emotions with the realization that our work there was completed, I was everything from relieved to saddened to amazed to overwhelmed… not to mention absolutely exhausted.  Though we will return to Safrani on Saturday one last time to present the art projects to the school and have a miniature celebration with the children, we will be guests.  We will not be teachers, and will be not be artists.  I will always be an “akka” (big sister) to these children, but chances are high that I will never again have the privilege of teaching them.

Truthfully, I’m not really sure how I feel about this.  Sentimental?  Of course.  Distressed?  Yes.  Liberated?  A little.  Our time at Safrani has been an interesting exercise, as our contact with them was inconsistent at the beginning of the project and not extensive at the end of the project.  Unlike my classes at Adigmet, I have not spent enough time with the Safrani students to know their names or their passions, and I admittedly don’t feel the same bond to them that I feel to the children at Adigmet (though the Safrani students are absolutely wonderful children).

I do, however, feel a definite attachment to the school as a whole.  Suraiya-ji, the founder of Safrani, has been a silent inspiration to all of us.  Though stunningly resigned for such a powerful and influential woman, every word that she utters is profound.  She doesn’t do anything for the recognition, but rather because she feels an obligation to society.  Yet, in a strange reversal, she profusely thanks us each time she sees us, and she was absolutely effusive when complimenting us on the handprint mural.  I think that all of us see her as a font of wisdom, and I know that we all were ecstatic to be invited to have tea with her on Saturday afternoon.

What is hardest for me about the conclusion of our project at Safrani is the imminent conclusion of our time at Adigmet.  Tomorrow, we will spend our final day at the RK Middle School and at Bhavan’s College.  Twenty-four hours from now, three out of four of our projects will have seen their end, leaving only our biggest and most influential site, Adigmet.  As horribly cheesy as this is, I tear up whenever I think of the moment of goodbye next Thursday.  I get a knot in my stomach with the realization that this really is ending and that I really do have to say goodbye to these children, probably forever.

As much as our DukeEngage group has bonded with each other and with the Prasads, I have no doubt in my mind that we will stay incredibly close to each other (we’ve already announced to Leela that she can expect us to show up at her house unannounced).  But if I’m being reasonable and honest, I doubt I will ever have the privilege of seeing these students again.  They have changed my life, and it’s heart-wrenching to me that now they must no longer be a part of it. 

So, the way I figure it, I have a week left with the students and ten days left in a city that I have fallen in love with, so I need to make every moment count.  If I have learned nothing else from this experience, it’s that there’s no time like the present.  Carpe diem!

It is always funny to me how some of the things that seem most obvious in life can still make you pause with realization when you see them in action.  I have had many of those “light bulb” moments, but one of the most important ones in terms of our project came to me today.

In our Urdu class, we were doing a fairly simple exercise this morning.  We held up a flash card with a random letter of the alphabet, and asked them to name as many words as they could that started with that letter.  Since Alice, Spencer, and I teach fifth grade, out class has a better handle on phonetics than the younger sections, but we hoped this exercise would serve to further reinforce this concept.

The assignment started as would be expected – B is for ball, bear, balloon, basket, bulb, etc.  But over the course of the 26 letters, the children said things that made me smile to myself.  I was for India, S was for sari (though this isn’t an English word, we let it slide), T was for tiger, P was for paneer, and – my favorite – L was for Liza.  With every letter, there were common words also thrown in the mix: I was also for ice cream, S was also for small, T was also for tall, P was also for package, and L was also for lamp. 

But what got me to thinking were the words that seemed, at least to me, unexpected.  Surely when I was learning English I never would have said that P was for paneer; I didn’t even know what paneer was until six weeks ago (for those of you still in the dark on paneer: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Panir)!  I know this seems to be the simplest of revelations, but today’s lesson made me realize that learning a language must be relatable and entirely local.  What good would it do for these children to know that I is for igloo?  Sure, it’s a fine word to know, but it can’t possibly relate to their lives – at least not now.  I think it is important to remember when teaching a foreign language (or any subject, for that matter), especially to children, that it must be honed to their surroundings so that they actually understand and, more importantly, care about the subject matter.

I’ve learned so much from these children in the past few weeks (maybe even more than they’ve learned from me), but I was a little surprised that it took me this long to seriously consider this topic.  I mean, it’s pretty simple, right?  Of course it is.  But one of the other things that these kids have taught me is that sometimes the simplest things are the most rewarding, and sometimes the simplest things take the longest time to learn… but when you finally do learn them, it's worth the wait.

After going weeks on end without any contact with Westerners outside of our DukeEngage group, it always throw us off when we see people from Europe or the States.  I actually find myself staring at them – they are a novelty to me as much as I am novelty to Indians.  Who would have guessed that I would ever be in shock to see people that look like me?

Well, tonight we saw a LOT of those people.  The Prasads are good friends with the director of the Study India Program at Hyderabad University, and she kindly invited us to their farewell party for their summer students.  It was a great evening: we first had a concert in a Northern Indian style of music, followed by a delicious buffet of traditional Indian food (and French fries, of course).  The weird part, however, was that the majority of the people there were either American or Nordic; for the first time in my life, a situation in which I was in the majority felt strange to me.  It’s almost as if I’ve grown so accustomed to being in the minority here, and as if it’s become a such a norm in my life to be the different one, that I was a little freaked out when surrounded by fellow Westerners. 

To make matters even stranger, I actually felt a little more at ease with the students from Scandinavia, as they were still somewhat removed from my life at home.  My subconscious kept telling me that even though they were white and Western, they were still foreign, so it was somewhat normal to be around them.  Being with other Americans outside of the DukeEngage group, however, completely baffled me.  Comparing experiences with them also made me realize how lucky I am to be participating in DukeEngage, as I feel like I have been forced to become so immersed in the Hyderabadi culture and I have a tremendous understanding of the daily life of typical Indians.  While I do not mean at all to demean study-abroad programs, as they are undoubtedly worthwhile and beneficial, I think that doing DukeEngage has given me an entirely different experience than I would have otherwise had in Hyderabad, and I am deeply grateful for this unique opportunity.

In other news, one of my Urdu students met Jiajia today and insisted on calling me Lizaliza.  I tried explaining to him that Jiajia was her name and that Liza was my name, but he was having none of it.  I think I’m stuck with Lizaliza for the next three weeks.  If that’s the worst he throws at me, though, I can’t really complain.

As of today, we have offically reached the half-way point: one month down, one to go.  Thus, now that we are fully acclimated to Hyderabad and have immersed ourselves in the city, I thought this to be an appropriate time to reflect.  Our experiences have been astounding in many ways, and every day brings a new challenge.  I don't think any of us, however, were prepared for one challenge that we didn't know we would have to face: wild city animals.  They challenge our patience when they cause traffic jams, challenge our concept of wildlife when we see them roaming free, and challenge our long-standing views that birds, rodents, and insects were the only "wildlife" in major cities.  Boy, were we wrong...

1.    Cows:  Since cows are sacred in Hindu society, they roam free on the streets.  This might sound fun at first, and it was, but the novelty wore off of us after about three days.  Now we just hope that they don’t cause traffic jams (or, should I say, make the traffic jams that constitute all traffic in the city even worse) and that our cars and swerve out of the way when a stubborn cow ambles into the road.  I get the feeling that the cows here have a pretty good life, as they cannot be harmed.  Though we still enjoy seeing the calves that travel with many of the herds, the original excitement over free-roaming cows is definitely gone.

2.    Dogs:  Just like cows, dogs are everywhere.  Literally, everywhere.  People who know me know that I’m prone to exaggerate in a big way, but this time I’m not.  I tried to count one day that number of stray dogs that I saw during our normal routine, but I stopped after I got to twenty in less than an hour.  We can’t really complain though, because the dogs don’t really bother people and mostly stick to themselves.  We do feel bad for them whenever we see them up close – unlike domestic dogs in America, these dogs are thin as rails and many of them have sores or wounds all over their bodies.  Obviously the dogs in people's homes are taken care of very well (the AID director, Vidya, has the cutest puppy at her house), but it was quite a shock to us to see as many stray dogs as we see on a daily basis.

3.    Pigs:  For me, pigs never get old.  I think it has something to do with the fact that I discovered at a very young age that I, in fact, can snort like a pig… I guess I just have a natural affinity towards them.  We don’t see pigs as regularly as we see dogs and cows, but we probably see them a few times a week.  They usually are found in groups rummaging through trash (like all the other wildlife here).  Since I’ve never thought of pigs as clean animals, it doesn’t really upset me to see them as dirty and foul as it does when I see the dogs like that.

4.    Goats:  Goat sightings are about as frequent as pig sightings, though much less exciting in my opinion.  There isn’t much to say about them… they just do their thing like any of the other animals here do.  Amusingly, however, Jiajia, Daniel, and Bethany once asked a student to spell “the” and he wrote “goat.”  At least he still spelled a real word.

5.    Camels:  Saving the best for last, camels are by far the most exciting of the wildlife we have seen in Hyderabad (excluding the monkey on the motorcycle, but he was domesticated and thus does not find himself in my list).  The first camel we saw might as well have been named Shaq – we all swear that it was at least an eight-footer.  Camels are big, but not that big!  We usually just see a lone camel, either carrying a person or carrying goods – or both.  Last weekend we did see a train of camels walking down one of the main roads, two grown men riding two grown camels and a young boy riding a young camel.  Though as much as we enjoy admiring them from our car, I hear that we might not like them so much up close and personal.  At least for now, we’ll take what we can get.