LA School...
Smart from the outside as viewed from the empty playground.The place is surrounded by buildings in various states of construction and disrepair - no green school fields around here just concrete and sky. Teachers arriving, looking at me in some state of confusion, but Amrit explains my presence and I am allowed to take a peek into the place these kids call their school.
It's a pretty austere place to be spending ones childhood years with this particular classroom sparsely furnished with ageing desks and wooden chairs. Concrete on all sides from top to bottom, dark grey and freezing cold - no heating in here anyway, thankfully the winters are short! Next, the mates room judging by the somewhat lengthy and complicated formulae on the blackboard. again, as austere as the previous room but despite the surrounds their education system is obviously working pretty well from what I have seen from Amrit and Anjali. And for those lucky enough to have schooling, $15 per month is the price to pay. Perhaps Austerity and strictness is the answer that successive British governments have been looking for!
Uncles house and sweet shop is conveniently located opposite the school gates and with still an hour before lessons it's a good place to hang out according to Amrit, thus an introduction to various Uncles, Aunties and the 'Second Mother' which turns out to be Grandma. Infact, Amrit and Anjali are somewhat confused by the intertwined relationships of their large family, so everyone aged less than 40 are referred to as brothers and sisters. Tea, yes of course, thank you, but I politely decline the offer of rice and vegetables, although some toast is a welcome snack. I get a tour of the place, decked with family photos and various other brightly coloured artefacts of a religious nature.
Time to go as the kids have class and uncle leaves for the office. The playground is filling up as Amrit drags me though the gate eager for me to meet some of his friends. Some are quite shy but others try to engage in English, and quite successfully.
Well, that was the school run. Very different from the British version.There isn't that jostling for car parking spots, no prams to trip people up and definitely no 4x4's pushing in. Looks like everyone gets a ride on the school bus, with a handful of mums and dads walking their kids.
Smart from the outside as viewed from the empty playground.The place is surrounded by buildings in various states of construction and disrepair - no green school fields around here just concrete and sky. Teachers arriving, looking at me in some state of confusion, but Amrit explains my presence and I am allowed to take a peek into the place these kids call their school.
It's a pretty austere place to be spending ones childhood years with this particular classroom sparsely furnished with ageing desks and wooden chairs. Concrete on all sides from top to bottom, dark grey and freezing cold - no heating in here anyway, thankfully the winters are short! Next, the mates room judging by the somewhat lengthy and complicated formulae on the blackboard. again, as austere as the previous room but despite the surrounds their education system is obviously working pretty well from what I have seen from Amrit and Anjali. And for those lucky enough to have schooling, $15 per month is the price to pay. Perhaps Austerity and strictness is the answer that successive British governments have been looking for!
Uncles house and sweet shop is conveniently located opposite the school gates and with still an hour before lessons it's a good place to hang out according to Amrit, thus an introduction to various Uncles, Aunties and the 'Second Mother' which turns out to be Grandma. Infact, Amrit and Anjali are somewhat confused by the intertwined relationships of their large family, so everyone aged less than 40 are referred to as brothers and sisters. Tea, yes of course, thank you, but I politely decline the offer of rice and vegetables, although some toast is a welcome snack. I get a tour of the place, decked with family photos and various other brightly coloured artefacts of a religious nature.
Time to go as the kids have class and uncle leaves for the office. The playground is filling up as Amrit drags me though the gate eager for me to meet some of his friends. Some are quite shy but others try to engage in English, and quite successfully.
Well, that was the school run. Very different from the British version.There isn't that jostling for car parking spots, no prams to trip people up and definitely no 4x4's pushing in. Looks like everyone gets a ride on the school bus, with a handful of mums and dads walking their kids.
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