Hi all,

Building on my initial blogging experiences, it has emerged that what is needed is a bit more specificity on the nuts, bolts, developments and daily workings of the school. Henceforth, therefore, I will try to give my impressions on the following – class sizes, resources, curriculum, environment and atmosphere, areas of excellence and areas for development – so that in the weeks and months to come I can return to these topics and ultimately provide an evolving report on how their dynamic interplay creates the unique educational establishment that is the GMMCS.

For those seeking a more George oriented slant on things, I will be blogging henceforth at www.Pause4thoughtina2quickworld.blogspot.com which is an old blog I started years ago, and needs some serious updating. No time like the present I guess.

Back to GeorgeGMMCS…
I intend to conduct some 'market' research among both teachers and pupils to guage their views on the elements of the school pertinent to them. The more angles one can acquire of any given truth, hopefully the closer one can get to it. I will write this up in the blogs to come.

Class sizes and year groups…
The year groups are divided into 'Standards.' The school currently provides for 1st through to 7th standard, with an additional two year groups pre-1st standard known as UKG and LKG. 7th standard comprises 12-13year olds, down to 1st standard for 6-7year olds, with LKG and UKG being for 4 and 5 year olds respectively.

Currently the class sizes seem to increase as you go down the school, with 16-18 students in 5th, 6th and 7th standard, up to 20-25 in 2nd, 3rd, 4th up again to 35-41 in 1sr, UKG and LKG
It is estimated that numbers will continue to grow year on year and this will of course impact on the ability of the school to deliver on its intentions.
From a personal point of view – coming from the P.E and English teaching perspective – it is a challenge to consistently engage all the class once the numbers stretch beyond about 24. I'm sure anyone in education in England will concur with this. Where the teaching of English is concerned, my progress in Hindi is helping, but it is still the case that there will be a core in each class of proficient English speakers, whilst those who are either content not to stretch themselves, or are too timid to do so still understand the phrase 'do you understand?' to which they reply without fail 'yes sir' even if they have no knowledge of what they should be understanding. Initial conversations with the teachers confirms that even they find this to be the case to a slightly lesser degree. The challenge the school faces in the teaching of English is that we have the pupils for such a short period each day that, though children absorb language far more
readily than adults, we have so little contact time with them our impact is as a line upon the sand, for as soon as they climb aboard the bus home, their tongues slip back into the comfort of Hindi or Punjabi. It is my gut feeling that even a small increase in daily face time would drastically improve the amount of osmosis learnt English in those pupils who have no desire to stretch themselves.

Resources…
At the present time the school is very much like a rose bud in the process of blossoming. The petals of an enlightened principal, sizeable classrooms, capable teaching staff, dedicated support staff and happy students have so far unfurled to meet the light. However, a few key petals remain in the bud at present. As you can see from some of the photos, there is excellent potential for the development of sports programs of a wide variety, given the ground space we have at our disposal.
This will be one of the main areas I hope to have significant impact on during my tenure, so stay tuned to coming blogs for progress reports.
The science lab is ready. However, the key elements of equipment, a teacher and space within the timetable remain to be resolved. The computer room is without question a standout resource in the school's armoury, yet with one shattering chink in its armour. The room boasts more than ten pristine computers and at a time when the true power of the internet is building like a wave crest throughout the infrastructure, ready to inundate with the sweeping changes of its tide, this places the school in a hugely advantageous position of potentially being able to turn out already internet savvy students into a nation that will be clamouring for them…except for one major 'but'…but at present there is no broadband at the school. If we are able to get hooked up soon, the massive leap forward this will enable the school to take in terms of twinning with other schools, acquisition of teaching materials and resources, inspiration for creative play,
teambuilding etc cannot be overstated. Apparently the problem lies in the fact that we are more than 7km from the main phone exchange. Any computer whizzes out there who can come up with a solution would be as revered among the GMMCS family as was Gitanjali when first displayed to an English public.
Stop Press! Continuing this blog a day or so after beginning it, I have just walked past the science lab and witnessed the Principal and 7th standard students unpacking a load of science equipment…it seems the petal of the science lab may reach for the light sooner than anticipated.
I mentioned the need for an increase in face time to improve the pupil's absorption of English. I believe the single most important step the school could take besides the connection to broadband would be the institution of an afterschool club focussing on the development of the students sporting and artistic development. It is not only English ability that would be improved, but also the pupils' sense of identity, their capability to integrate as part of a team, their use of imagination and the development of a personal vision of the future stretching beyond the current, which seems to be limited by the blinkers of necessity to perform well in rote exams. My other reason for believing that such an afterschool activities period would be of dear importance is that there is currently no time within the timetable for arts and crafts, theatre, music or design and technology or gardening and other outdoor pursuits – participation in which is surely
paramount at a formative age in order to nurture rounded individuals who have had the best chance possible to learn what it is in life that puts a smile on their face and makes their heart beat quicken.

I may, however, simply be documenting personal opinions and pipe dreams. The reality remains that the vast majority of parents in India and Indian society at large still regard education as one part of a 'worthwhile life' sequence that runs something along the lines of: education  exams  degree  job, with as ostentatious a marriage as possible shoehorned in somewhere towards the end of the sequence.
The consequence of this, in the context of our discussion, is that many parents simply desire that there children should be sufficiently drilled to enable them to progress to the next stage of the sequence – to the point where they actively encourage the teachers to use physical force if necessary to ensure their sons or daughters successfully complete their work. Convincing them therefore of the benefits of allowing their seed to engage in afterschool activities may be impossible. Further exacerbating the challenge is the fact that a number of pupils live at least 20km from the school, meaning once two hrs or so of activities have been undertaken, the pupils would arrive home barely in time for supper, let alone with time to complete their homework.
My hyperactive mind being what it is, I've begun to try to fathom ways around these problems, but before discussing them with the management here and back home, it would seem ill advised to publish them quite yet.

Curriculum…
Thus far I have only encountered the English curriculum in any detail. The school is affiliated to the CBSE (Central Board of Secondary Education) curriculum. I intend to give it a second chance but, if you never get a second chance to make a first impression, I'm afraid the signs are not good. Being tied to a curriculum that expects students who are still learning the meaning of words such as travel and gratitude to have to understand poetry that contains words such as 'weal' 'beden'd' and 'bone-marrow' is I feel asking too much, especially when some of these words are expected to be understood so that students can complete the activities associated with the relevant poem. Such a gratuitous use of over-complicated English does noone any favours. The teachers suffer the pressure of having to ensure the students know both the simple and complicated words. The students suffer because of the learning load placed upon them.
By the way, I will be grateful to anyone who can give me a satisfactory explanation of the word 'beden'd'. I will try to engage the other teachers to give some feedback on their experiences of the degree to which their particular curriculum helps or hinders their ability to provide teaching free from undue strain on either party.

Environment and Atmosphere...
For the outside observer there is a possibility that certain aspects of the school's environment may be a little like Marmite. The politeness of the students is truly exemplary – to the point where one wonders what authoritarian strictures were necessary to achieve it. Staunch old-school educationalists will look approvingly on the fact that students are called to a satisfactory military style attention before the end of each outdoor games period and at the beginning of morning assembly, where they also sing the national anthem each morning. These aspects may be a cause of revulsion among more participatory/progressive educational approaches. What is not in question is the deeply commendable open-mindedness, patience and warm-heartedness of the principal, nor the ready smiles of the students. There are parts of me that still cringe when the students are called to attention or when they stand as one to welcome you into the classroom, but the longer I
spend here, the more another part of me whispers 'nothing is good or bad but thinking makes it so.' The students possess such joie de vivre and I am yet to come across anything that could remotely be considered bullying. Perhaps the foundation of respectful discipline is allowing for an environment where the students feel safe to flourish as themselves, and consequently the school is going from strength to strength.

These of course are my initial impressions, and may well change according to evidence and learning. I am making stringent efforts not to form any judgements, but to maintain a fluid awareness that allows whatever ideas I've formed about a particular topic to adjust to any new knowledge or circumstance.

Areas of Excellence
With the exception of the power lines that have recently been erected annoyingly low over the proposed community centre roof, the schools grounds and site are certainly arrows in our quiver of the finest grade. If ever in these early stages we doubt our ability to achieve all that we would hope, we need only look at the grounds we possess to provide instant relief from our blues. Whether thinking of the accommodation we will come to provide, or the sports facilities which could materialise, or the fields that might be used to pioneer alternative farming methods to prevent the lands of Punjab and Haryana sliding irrevocably towards desertification, all roads lead to one conclusion…we have a rare piece of clay in our collective hands. We need simply the muscle of commitment and the clarity of a shared creative vision to craft a sculpture of eternal beauty and inspiration.
Two other aspects standout for me. One is the support staff, who never fail to impress me with their attentiveness and diligence in seeking to ensure the smooth day to day workings of the schools nuts and bolts. Two of their number can be seen in the photo of Kapil and Ramkumar posted in an earlier blog.
The final 'area of excellence' that immediately springs to mind in the writing of this blog is our principal Mr Nammalvar. In conversations with Mota and Janet (two of BKIT's founding members) it invariably crops up just how lucky we are to have him at the head of our school. He is not your TNT, blasting a way for a new road, rather he is the water eking out the wonder that is the grand canyon. I am told some parents are disconcerted, believing all principals should be in the TNT mold, but I share the belief that his heartfelt commitment to the nurturing of the children coupled with his openness to try new approaches will stand us in excellent stead in the years to come.

Areas for Development
Homework: when something emerges as a pattern that is disrupting the harmony of the student – pupil relationship, it is clearly and area for development. Both on my previous visit and at the present time, I have encountered the teachers' frustrations that many of the children simply ignore the homework they are given. Of course I can hear the choruses of ''twas ever thus' from teachers and former pupils, but having personally witnessed the extent to which a lack of application from one or two students can hold up the whole class, coupled with my aforementioned misgivings about the curriculum, I feel some way needs to be found to incentivise the children to commit to their studies outside of the classroom. Use of physical force, whilst socially ingrained, nevertheless dehumanises student and teacher, demotivating if anything. Sorry to sound like a broken record, but if a way could be found to initiate afterschool clubs, one could adopt the
approach of Coach Carter and other such examples in requiring students to achieve certain academic minimums before participation in sporting or creative activities is permitted.

If such an approach were to be adopted, there would certainly be some preliminary work in developing the team unity of the teachers and their awareness of their role beyond that of teacher. I was discussing this with the principal the other day. If the school is an onion, the teachers seem too content to know only their layer of it, rather than seeking to gain a sense of the plant as a whole. To use another unwieldy and overly verbose metaphor, as is my wont…The teachers are the wood from which our ship is fashioned. At the moment, they have taken on board only that they are a number of planks of wood, without grasping that they are the very fabric of our survival, and that collectively they are wrought into a peerless vessel. Theirs is a worrying tendency to focus on the potential leaks of others and on the colour of the sails (whether the teachers should wear uniform), or what varnish should swab the decks, without taking a moment to consider the
direction of the winds or our intended destination. Until we can lift their gazes to the broad seas upon which we sail, until we can germinate in them the understanding that theirs is no role of mere teacher, but of pioneering explorer and soul activist, until we can glean their wisdom of local weather patterns, swift currents and dangers of the deep, our vessel will progress with only a limited rudder and in ever present danger of being capsized by a sudden storm.

Finally, it is my opinion that no school can serve its pupils optimally without providing opportunities in sports, music, theatre and other creative arts. Ultimately, an invention that could freeze time for a couple of hours each day would be ideal. We'd even be willing to try untested prototypes of such contraptions…any offers? No? In that case, we must use our collective brilliance and problem solving skills to create available time where there appears to be none. There are certain rays of hope dimly perceptible through the clouds of intransigent tradition. One is the upsurge in X-Factor type TV programs here in India, such as Dance Premier League and Indian Idol. Whilst I would rather cheese grate my hands, arms and face to bloody stumps than sit through a series of such programs, the fact remains that they legitimise creative arts in a way that our words and affirmations never could, making the career paths of actress/singer/dancer bordering on
acceptable, where before the only choices on offer would have been doctor/lawyer/engineer. Similarly, in the field of sports, the meteoric rise of cricket's Twenty20 format and its ability to earn big quickly, suggests the possibility of a similar rise in the popularity of sportsman as a career choice and in its parental acceptability, provided the students have sufficient schooling to fall back on.

I hope this initial missive gives a clearer idea of the direction this blog is to take, and of the soil we have at present and the challenges faced in trying to till it as best we can.

I welcome any questions, and can be reached at GeorgeJDH@yahoo.com, or preferably by txt on 0091999698354

Much love.
George.
x

Nothing like having to teach hindi first lesson to kick the day off in style. I tried to introduce the children to the idea of Taoism, whereby the fastest is the slowest, or in this case, the teacher is the pupil. Their knowledge of comparative Chinese religion was about as substantial as my hindi, but together we muddled along. I can now count up to ten, and can say I am, I do, I will, I make.
Yesterday was quality. I headed up to Lehrian (one of the villages in the school's catchment area) in the early evening and introduced the village children to Ultimate Frisbee. Our pitch was somewhat rudimentary – its boundaries being defined by the communal drains that vein the streets. The photos attached are simply staggering if you believe in the ability of photos to capture spirits in the form of orbs of light. We are playing under the watchful gaze of the village Neem tree, which for years has functioned as a village focal point/meeting place/ village hall whenever something of import needs to be communicated. It is incredible, with ancient spider webs wreathing its lower branches like the gossamer finery of a prince. For comparison purposes the photo of my current means of transport is taken three minutes after the shots of the children and the tree that are so bespeckled with orbs. I'm sure there are photography experts out there who can
explain this all away, but until then I will stick with the hypothesis that those beings beyond our kenning share with the Neem tree a love of children's laughter and were delighting in our play as much as the children. There are always two sides to every story my friends, and our lives are the stories we choose to tell.
The preparations for the cricket pitch come on apace. What was rutted mud is gradually becoming a flat and potentially malleable surface. My concern is that the soil quality is of quite the sandiest variety and thus, after a few weeks, our net wickets may resemble brittle versions of the subcontinent's dustiest dust bowls. Anyone out there who has some groundsman knowledge, or knows a groundsman would ingratiate themselves to me no end if they can enlighten me as to how I may prevent our surface from breaking up too rapidly. Given that we are at the blank canvas stage, we should be able to incorporate any suitably practical suggestions into the pitch making process.
On the strength of my performances on the scrubland when last I visited and on the evidence of one innings of road cricket since my return, I have been asked by Sodagar's nephew to join the Kothi cricket team. I don't know whether this is due to my unmatched cricketing prowess, or to the fact that they have a tournament in three days time only have eight players at present. My pride wishes it was the latter, my common sense affirms the former. I'm slightly apprehensive about my ankle, which I sprained just before flying out, and which is still far from properly healed. Perhaps I'll just have to do a Flintoff and surge in with a simultaneous first and last hurrah, before gracefully retiring victorious.
Spending the evening with Sodagar's nephew yesterday evening allowed me the opportunity to hone some Punjabi. In a display of vocab learning of the utmost importance, I can now differentiate between animal dung – gobar – and human dung – tatti. How did we get onto this subject you ask? A combination of factors – namely that I trod in some gobar before I arrived and that Owais Shah as a Twenty20 batsman is utterly tatti. On such fecal matters I leave you for now…

The next day…
Building on the idea of the fastest being the slowest, the teacher the pupil etc...this morning the teacher was just getting done over. I was asked to stand in during a second standard (6-7 year olds) period. I came out feeling I'd gone ten rounds with Tyson in his prime. All my efforts to engage the kids fell on ears that heard but were nowhere near comprehension. With their only means of communication being Hindi, we were the original odd couple. It wasn't the blind leading the blind, but more the blind being led by the mischievous. It seemed the more they realised I couldn't really understand their conversation, the higher the laughter and delinquency rate grew. My shredded nerves were saved, however, by a swiftly invented variation of 'Simon Says,' whereby I would write on the board an English word, and they would have to repeat the word back while performing the action associated with that word. Unfortunately I was unable to take my
revenge as I might have liked – their English vocab having not yet stretched to 'self-flagellation' – so I had to content myself with their apparent enjoyment of 'sit' 'stand' 'sit' 'stand' ad infinitum…
Our sporting ingenuity continues – today we have been playing a unique remix of netball comprising the use of spare flowerpots in place of baskets and a tennis ball as netball.
This afternoon I was forced to re-enact the pied piper, after one of the village elders took offence to our impromptu game of cricket at the Neem Tree Oval. We headed to the Govt school playing ground, which is essentially brick like mud cracked into great jagged crazy paving. The wicket played surprisingly true, and we have scheduled a return match tomorrow afternoon.
It appears I am to be housed at the school in the not too distant future. I am yet to determine whether unbeknown to myself I have done something to grossly upset my hosts. I have been told off for whistling. Apparently it's not done in India. I will report back on the cricket and my eviction shortly.

Much love.
x

Yes Yes People,

Today is Diwali - the festival of life celebrating Ram's return from Lanka after defeating Ravana. We celebrate by Jelado Diya (lighting/burning lamps) among other things. I don't know for how long it has been traditional, but apparently one buys new clothes/paraphernalia at Diwali. You can take the Christ out of Christmas, but the plastic trinkets will continue to flood the landfills.

On this note, I accompanied my host to a funeral for an elderly member of the community yesterday. It was a little saddening to be offered delicious food on a polystyrene platter. Where once there was probably just the tang of cow dung in the air, now as dusk falls in any small town or big city, one's nostrils are accosted by the perfume of plastic fires that punctuate the roadsides and alleys like an acne for the earth.

The Shamaic worldview does not see innately positive or negative energy, but rather energy that is in harmony or discord with its surroundings. I feel it is in this light that we must view the vast swathes of plastic that flow like a river through our lives. Building on examples such as David de Rothschild - http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/2009/apr/12/david-de-rothschild-plastiki-pacific - it is essential that we begin utilising our species abundant ingenuity to turn waste plastic from a curse into a resource. Perhaps someone who knows more about chemistry than me can tell me why we cannot distill/refine plastic back into its component parts?

On a more natural note, those who have been privy to my parts of my reality will know my love of trees. I have been overjoyed to discover there are two beautiful Pipal trees a short walk from the house. The Pipal is a sacred tree in Indian culture – perhaps paralleling our oak – it is one of the few trees that produce oxygen both day and night, and is the subject of many myths involving divinities such as Lord Vishnu (one of the Hindu trinity) and Lord Shani (the hindu divinity figure of the planet Saturn)

It is truly beautiful in appearance – seeming like innumerable strands of svelte tree-trunk interwoven to create a greater whole. It is known also by the name 'sacred fig' tree and we are all aware of the fig's place in the mythos of our planet.

I have been assessing ways to develop a space to build some cricket nets, and I write off now because I am told there are plans afoot to level off an area of ground in front of the proposed community centre for just this purpose.

Photos do exist, and I'll get them up either today or tomorrow.

Massive love.

xx

As to why this didn't upload the first time - the clue's in the drumming.

So my first blog was for those who don't know me, to give an idea of what makes me tick.

Here's my update to date…in two parts. A summary for those pressed for time, and an extended version if you need a reason to ignore your work/washing up/TV for a moment or two.

Summary:
Flight all good. Swine flu being ridiculously hyped – heat-detecting cameras to catch those with a temperature etc. Good to see Sodagar and family again. School development coming on ace – classrooms on third floor finished along with science lab and computer room. Foundations complete for community centre, sports area has its first covering of grass.

Farming situation in Punjab and Haryana pretty much screwed – too many farmers living beyond their means, relying on produce from soil becoming ever more over fertilised and destitute.

Election time in the state. A pretty impassioned affair. Fisticuffs and ridiculous accusations abound, but thankfully only one death.

My Laptop causes quite a stir. Play murder ball and Frisbee with kids on first day. Hope jet lag will be gone by this evening.

Peace. One Love.
x

Extended version…

Initial attempts to head off proved abortive – the plane switching from Birmingham to Heathrow and back again. Finally the plane decided it preferred Heathrow and the Airways of the British.
So off we (Janet, Mota and I) went and arrived at the (in my opinion) overly ostentatious Terminal 5 building. In a rather sinister use of technology, they now have a 'car finder' facility, which tracks down your number plate, this despite at point having been asked to enter your vehicle's registration – hints of bug brother are worrying.

After the usual ridiculous security checks, complete with facial photography of every passenger and anal searches for the usual toothpaste disguised as…toothpaste, I found my way to gate 42 via the duty free shop. Clutching a new digital camera courtesy of The Gap Community centre in Warwick and an external hard-drive so I can edit up some video for y'all, I was forced to swallow a 'shapers' sandwich from Boots. I'm sure it will shape me superbly, given that it contained about 24% of my daily fat intake – not bad for a low fat sandwich.

On the plane I was sat next to a young blonde lady just out of uni, visiting India for the first time and travelling alone. Rather her than me! Warning her that 'single white western female' is sometimes mistranslated in Bharat Mata Ki as 'whore', seemed to put her mind at rest, so I moved on to reassure her about the high logic and organisation of the Indian road system…not such a good idea as it turned out, for she had been in a car crash a week earlier and was still a little nervous. Nothing that a heart and gut wrenching taxi ride from the airport wouldn't cure I reasoned to myself.

The world has officially gone swine flu crazy. Not content with rolling out untested vaccines containing live bird flu (with patents US666 and EU666 in case you needed another reason not to let your children near a vaccine) the PTB have now established heat sensitive cameras at Delhi airport immigration. Given that I was carrying my own weight in hand luggage and, expecting it to be cold on arrival, was wearing a jacket, my body temp was pushing the mercury. My prodigious sweat turned swiftly cold when I was called back to stand in front of the camera for an extended period to ensure I was not a danger to humanity. Quarantine beckoned like a gaping chasm of bulls**t, but eventually the masked denizens were satisfied and I was free to sweat in the queue for passport control.
The minor mishap of the wheels breaking loose from my main luggage could not dampen my delight at seeing a friendly face waiting with a sign that read 'Mr George – Leamington spa'. I'm no nearer knowing the gentleman's name, but he was without doubt the best cricketer I encountered during my last trip – the universal language of sport is yet to find an equal.

Arrival at BKIT house was delayed to allow time for my first meal on Indian soil at a service station. Whereafter the remaining journey became far more soporific than the plane had ever been. It was superb to see Sodagar and his family again. The guy's a proper warrior disguised as an understated, yet very respected and reliable community member.

We headed straight to the school, which is looking excellent. The community centre has full foundations, the sports area has a nascent covering of grass and the upper class-rooms on the third floor are now finished, along with the science lab and new computer room.

Over dinner I shared my first drink for about 6 months. It will be another 6 months before I have another – suffice it to say that one pint and a glass of whiskey was enough to leave me feeling a little half cut. I remained sufficiently lucid to enjoy a good conversation with Pawitar – Sodagar's brother in law from Coventry. It was of great benefit to be able to ask in English some pertinent questions about the state of the local area and community and receive articulate answers.

Sadly Pawitar painted a more bleak picture of the farming situation than I had supposed it to be - innumerable farmers indebted beyond their means, borrowing from avaricious loan sharks against the coming crop. Soil so destitute that ever more fertiliser is applied to achieve the expected yields. It would only take a wholesale crop failure and the rate of farmer suicides would soar beyond its already stratospheric rate. Never has an example of alternative and productive practice such as the community centre might provide been so needed. The challenge that must be faced is finding a way to allow the soil to recover and help it do so in as swift and as natural a way as possible, whislt providing an income and livelihood for those affected. The size of this challenge is made all the larger by the fact that so many rely on each year's crops for their very sustenance.

I do perceive one beacon of hope however. On the journey from the Airport there were frequent adds on the radio for an organic food company. The burgeoning growth of India's middle classes perhaps offers the opportunity to present organic food as an essential lifestyle choice to those with a sufficient disposable income. Of course in a perfect world everyone would be eating locally produced organic food etc etc…but one must work from the point of the present reality and start the snowball of change rolling with whatever impetus lies at hand.
Always one for the bigger picture and idealised vision, I imagine the community centre possibly serving as the hub for an ethical organic produce distribution co-operative, a focal point from which any organically produced food in India's bread basket can find a consumer.

Back to reality and George's time at the school…

Yesterday was election day across a number of states including Haryana. Voting is taken fairly seriously over here, despite the prevailing opinion that most Indian politicians are in politics simply to make as much money as quickly as possible. Today's papers report that only one person died in the numerous skirmishes that occurred on polling day. Would that western nations sought so passionately to hold their governments to account. Were it so, perhaps the string pullers of the special alliance might not be profiting so handsomely from their disguised-as-war smash and grab raids on the opium and oil of the middle east.
The fervour can be taken to ridiculous lengths though – Sodagar has emerged from the day being accused of coercing votes because he was kind enough to give his elderly and immobile aunt a lift to the polling stations. Needless to say he is not losing too much sleep over the threats of his accusers.

Two nights of failing to fall asleep before 3am are not yet taking their toll, but may do if the trend continues.

I am enjoying the use of the family scooter. Those who know me will attest that any form of propelled transport will always put a smile on my face. I scooted happily to school this morning to begin my tenure officially. My Laptop has been the cause of as much fascination as my white skin – especially among my fellow teachers. The kids have been introduced to a Frisbee today, and to my childhood game of Murderball – not quite so vicious as it sounds, requiring simply the lobbing of a football at your opponents legs.

That's pretty much it for the now folks.

Love to all, and keep being the amazing souls you are.

Peace.
X

p.s. any questions, just ask.

P.S. for those who've been arsed to read this far, i might as well add a little more - today murderball has offcially been establishing itself as the game of choice. I have been getting down to some serious Hindi learning and my virile legs have been the cause of much conversational amusement.

i ran a kind of freestyle english conversation class with the students today. the first phrase we shared was 'why are you laughing?' - tum has kyon rahe ho - to which i discovered the answer - mari tenge chuje jase hai - 'my legs are like a chicken's'

quality!

photos still to follow.

massive love.
xx

photos to follow.

lots of love.
x

A Mosaic of ways to kiss the Earth

Ripple the earth as I walk this land
A soul surrendering to love, seeking a hand
To be seeding a plan, setting magic in motion
For combine us together and we're quite a potion
So let's ignite the notion, state from the start
That we heal our earth when we follow our heart

So what's your passionate spark, what's your moment's meaning
What races your pulse in your wildest dreaming
For this soul its believing we all are born to shine
Which is why I offer in service to Love all that is mine
And all my prime, my drive, my will and my talents
Knowing if we work together we'll restore the balance
With ever deepening roots, we'll stave off rejection
Blessed with a planet to let feel our loving connection

For is the list not endless of all that we might create
And in these times of transition, there's so much at stake
As I state here and now to give all my love's worth
To put smiles on faces by embracing our earth

Which is Rumi enough for us each to be true
Come let the beauty you love be what you do
Diving deep into the mystery of all that we are
Aiming to shine with love like the brightest star

Have we not the imagination to see through beyond money
And to reach for something sweeter like Pooh for the honey
Of course the truth is funny, but do we not share an intent
To build on this beautiful moment so lovingly sent

Seeing so many wonderful souls beginning to shine their light
It's left me feeling invincibly up for the fight
To light the torch of peace, to guide our release
From the TV's jaws as it gnaws at our self-belief

And the chief thing I know in all of this talk
Is that right now I've found my reason to walk
And I'll persevere alone if so it must be
But two heads are better and I prefer you and me

So whatever it is that brings you balance and joy
Come let us share and our talents employ
And let's not be coy, or limit the dreams we perceive
For what we together believe, we'll together achieve

Simply being you changes lives like the return of Saturn
So our Mosaic's incomplete without your soul's unique pattern
And it can happen we forget our great strength within
Well now's the time to remember, now's the time to begin

For to suggest we're powerless is life's greatest deception
Because love empowers and connects all and makes no exception
Heartfelt connection's our truth, in each moment we know it
And Love's our great seed…so together let's grow it