The Daily Routine

Alarms aren't a particularly nice way to wake up, doorbells are slightly less persistent but still aren't conducive to a gentle rousing (being woken up at 4 o'clock by Rory generously donating last nights supper to the toilet bowl is probably third on the list though).

Each morning at 7.15 we're woken up by Suresh, or sweet, sweet Suresh as Rory has nicknamed him, at our door. He is there to pick up our empty food pot. 

15 minutes later he returns with a full food pot and the day begins. By this point we have made our beds, filled our bucket (providing there's water) and started heating it, I cannot tell you how good and virtuous this makes me feel.

We then shower, dress and head down for chapel at 8.15. There we sing two hymns (we're trying to get Jerusalem into the hymn book), say a prayer, listen to a reading and then head back to our room. Then depending on how enthusiastic we'll head out to period 1. As often happens we're still waking up and period 1 slips by but then we head out and carpe diem (not sure if that works in a sentence).

Lessons include sitting in (just watching the teacher teach), actively learning which we do as little as possible, (except in politics) and teaching. Teaching varies widely, our standard job is 35 minutes with the junior school boys teaching a mixture of French, Spanish (I learn the 6 phrases I'm going to teach them from Rory on the way down to the lesson) and whatever the teacher has planned. Its amazing how receptive the boys are to something new. I'm sure I was never that excited about lessons, they've even begged us for extra French lessons. However this excitement isn't all constructive and I have become exceptionally adept at propelling small pieces of chalk at the back of small Indian boys' heads as they turn around to talk to their mate. As 1950s as it sounds it works, and as yet I haven't gone as far as throwing the board duster, a tactic employed by one of dad's teachers in prep school.

Rory and I also had the pleasure of teaching elocution to a class of 15 year olds preparing for a reading competition. My mother will be shocked as she claims I'm utterly incoherent at the best of times but I do at least pronounce 'v' as a 'v' and not a 'w' as is the done thing here. After finally getting them to accept this, the word 'Wagnerian' then caused significant confusion. The piece was from 'My Fair Lady' and Rory does a pompous Prof Higgins voice very well while I've attempted to explain the irony and set the scene of gender discrimination in Britain at the time. Being a boys school the latter was far easier than the former.

I also taught maths to Year 6 in the last period of the week when attention spans weren't at their best and have a weekly slot teaching Huygens principle to the Upper 6. All good fun.

Lessons continue until 3 o'clock, then there is tea and then games. Cricket being the main one but wall-climbing is also big at the moment and there is a small gym where we can shift large amounts of iron about, and box (I haven't actually boxed since being well beaten by a boy two years younger than me, a foot shorter than me and two thirds my weight, but I'll try again as soon as the ego has recovered).

After games there is first prep, in which we normally learn Hindi but is also a useful internet time. Then at 7.45 we have supper in the dining hall with the boys. Supper and lunch are good, but fairly repetitive. Rice and dal, occasionally with chicken or lamb and various veggie dishes such as alu gobi, all mopped up with countless chappattis. Its no longer the beer that's contributing to the small bulge above my belt, it's now officially a chappatti belly. After supper we normally hang out with the boys for a but and then retire to our room for a movie or bed.

We're off to Rajasthan tonight for a week, Jodphur, Udaipur and Jaipur our targeted spots so I'll have plenty to write about, and plenty of photos to upload when I get back. I'll also try and get some photos of the school and the classes to put up.

Cheers