Getting Settled

It is Friday afternoon and I have just caught up a week’s shortage of sleep by sleeping in till 2 pm. The involuntary wake-up was generated by yet another power cut which led to halt in the supply of moving air – which is without AC a prime need to survive – as the fan straight above my bed stopped producing its endless spinning. A glance at my phone told me that it was quite a reasonable time to get up, and the desperate need I was in for a cold shower – I don’t even touch the warm water knob here – made the move out of my bed and towards the bathroom rather easy to accomplish. What I found out a mere ten seconds later however was that another surprise awaited me there, apparently not only the power had been cut but running water now officially belonged to desperately desired for but not acquired basic needs as well. Since it was well after two am the previous night – as it has been for the whole week – I had decided not to take a shower before going to bed but rather postponing it to the subsequent morning, something I desperately regret right now. Today is my first day off since I started working, the considerable distance I have to cover to reach the school I teach at and the related time and money issues have led to an agreement regarding a four day workweek with full shifts. All in all I am very satisfied with the schedule the principal and I have agreed upon, I teach six different classes a day with varying levels of English, age group and gender. The level of English varies from zero (using gestures, pictures and very basic words in order to have them understand something) to rather well (me talking slowly and clearly about geography and history, using maps and the like). Personally I prefer the groups with students who have a bit of an advanced level, this way I can actually address certain topics without mimicking every word by the sight of all the puzzled faces in front of me. The students all come from the slum area the school is located in and are well aware of the importance of being taught English, and therefore as well eager for classes and very grateful for me doing the job. Personally this is the best payment one can wish for; pure gratitude. Especially the somewhat older children – often the word children is not applicable cause ages range from nine or ten to twenty-two – are very eager to acquire the language skill that will offer them so many more opportunities in life. After five days at the school I have also gained a more profound understanding of the community and the background that has led to the foundation of the school. The one things that bonds all those people is their culture, since they all come from an area called Rajistan. As their grandparents moved to Delhi in the search for work the culture was maintained within the community; a culture of music and dance. The name of the school, or rather of the NGO, also refers to this, as ‘Kalakar’ means artist in Hindi. The organization helps the children of the community to develop their skills at school while at the same time offering them the opportunity to maintain the artistic skills that flow in their blood. Many of the older students have already been abroad to perform at international festivals. Now a skeptical reader may think; if there is plenty of money to let them travel abroad to perform at festivals for music and dance, why do they live in a slum area and why do they depend on charity to let the school functioning? I must admit I asked myself that very question as well, but after a mere week at the school I have come to the realization that singing and dancing is not a hobby, not a occupation for them, it is their life and their way of acquiring income. Their job if you will. As some people are auto drivers and some are construction workers, these children are artists. And it is something that goes way back, something that is centuries old and ought to be preserved in today’s society where the West and the forces of capitalism change the whole of India. And one of the main skills that these children need to ‘sell’ their artistic performances abroad and in India is the English language skill. Going back to the different groups I was talking about, I must say that the older students are a bit more aware of this then the younger ones, as they immediately obey my requests for silence and attention. I do not seek to impose, as the native teachers do, a teaching style of harsh order maintenance whenever a child disturbs order or starts fighting. Rather I take a step aside, stop talking, until they come to the realization that I won’t teach them if they are not quiet. I must say that some of the younger groups got this a bit faster then their peers, but I am confident that eventually they will all get the point. The commute that initially worried me has turned out to be not that big a problem after all, since I can cover half the distance to the school by metro. The whole journey starts every day by walking out of my house into the huge oven that this climate generates. I walk towards the main road in Kalkaji, looking for an auto (auto is the word here for motorized riskja, I will put some videos and pictures on facebook regarding these undertakings). One has to bargain for nigh any purchase here, and the price of a drive by auto is certainly the most important one, since the money spent on this way of transportation is certainly the dominant one in my wallet, superior to even costs for food and housing. I have noticed however that as the days go by the auto drivers do not try to charge me with ridiculous prices anymore, apparently something in my attitude tells them that I am not a mere tourist, naïve and unaware of the way things are done in India, but someone who lives here and knows his way around. The negotiation process takes places before getting in the auto, and if the guy asks a decent price I do not bother to bargain but immediately accept, one grows a bit tired of doing that twice a day. Anyway, the auto takes me for an average seventy rupi to the metro station where I continue my journey by a metro system with very Western standards. Actually it may be the only place in Delhi where it’s clean and tidy, with no beggars or heavy smog, the scent of food sold on the street or the frequent appearance of dogs and cows. That changes however at the stop where I exit the metro, as this is the border of the slum area where I work. It is one of the poorer areas in Delhi, and the journey through it (i.e. the slum) makes one realize what living conditions are like here. Open sewers, half naked people walking around in the tiny and crowded streets, cattle (goats and sheep) held in front of the houses, all in all it’s rather impressive. The whole journey costs me a bit over an hour, rather reasonable I must say, especially since only half of that time is spent in the thick clouds of smog which I try to prevent inhaling by covering my mouth and nose with a huge scarf. That I look like a terrorist like that doesn’t bother me as much as the chances I run for getting lung cancer without this precaution. The imposition of capitalism in India may have many flaws and shortcomings, something I may talk about some other time, the forces of free competition among auto drivers however are working as well as Adam Smith has once predicted. They could (i.e. the auto drivers), in theory, unite in some way and agree upon certain minimum prices for set distances, as in a cartel. In my humble opinion that thought has not occurred to any one of them yet, as they do not seek to cooperate at their joint benefit but rather desperately fight for that one person who seeks for a ride. As I came out of the metro the day before yesterday on my way back from work I approached a group of auto drivers. The first one who caught my eye demanded a price of eighty rupies for the journey to Kalkaji, some I’d pay at the max for this distance. I told him sixty was a decent price, and before he could respond one of the auto drivers close by interrupted the discussion by eagerly stating that he would take me for seventy. Now take a minute to consider this move. The second guy knows, or rather ought to know by using his common sense, that the first driver would offer me seventy as well as soon as he finds out that a competitor offers me that price, which is what happened. The only thing the second driver thus realizes is a lower price for me, any price he offers will be mimicked by the first driver and since I am half a meter away from his (i.e. the first one’s) auto I will always get in that very vehicle rather then changing autos for the same price. Interesting development I reckon, though I fear that opinion will not be shared by all of you. ;)
Anyway, I see I’ve again covered an impressive amount of paper, though I haven’t told half of what I intended to. Tonight or tomorrow I will move to the other trainee house, which has a washing machine, running water and constant power supply, and last but not least, an internet connection! That is when I will put this story online, cause the coffee corner I am sitting at now does not offer that facility. I’d better go back home now and start packing my suitcase in preparation of the move. Next time I’ll tell about the trainee community here, which is a great new social environment!

I’d like to thank you all for the reactions, I have only read the ones posted prior to Wednesday afternoon, but it’s great to hear something from you folks in Europe!! Thank you all and I hope the length of my stories does not bother you too much.

All the best from Delhi!