My Fantastic Time at an Indian School

Disclaimer: I have only visited this private school a few times. What I experienced does not represent how all schools in India operate.

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“Please, ma’am, can we come in? Please, ma’am?”

I looked up from seat to locate where this question was coming from. To my surprise, two elementary girls with shiny, black ponytails stood at the classroom door with their arms stretched towards me. Dressed in tidy, blue uniforms, they waited for my permission to enter the room. As I motioned that they could come in, they eagerly joined the group of chattering students.

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Because I am interested in a career as a teacher, I decided to regularly help with classes at a nearby private school. Right before I arrived in India, school started in the second week of June. In India, May is extremely hot and school is not in session.

In the mornings, I have assisted in the nursery and kindergarten classrooms. For these Indian children, school typically starts when they are three-years-old. In nursery (the earliest grade level), itty-bitty children sing, play, dance, and explore with their friends for two hours each day.

Because these children may speak Hindi, Marathi, or another regional dialect in their homes, nursery is primarily for teaching the little ones English. Nursery also helps children become accustomed to school, to their teachers, and to their peers.

Even at this young age, children are taught an incredible amount of respect. When the nursery teacher in her bright red kurta and matching rosy lipstick called out a name, the name’s owner, a tiny girl with a head full of tossled curls, quickly answered, “Yes, ma’am?”

After nursery, I visit the next grades- upper and lower kindergarten. Lower kindergarten is difficult for me because the children are starting to do organized learning, yet still cannot fully speak English or cannot differentiate between speaking English and their mother tongue. For the most part, I help with my favorite activity: coloring.

At 1:00, the children line up to go to lunch. Like every activity at this school, lunch is an organized and coordinated event. Food is served family-style as teachers dish out the main course to the students at their table.

Unlike the school cafeteria I am accustomed to, manners are intensely regulated in this “canteen” (the Indian word for cafeteria). After watching my considerable amount of blunders, the 3rd-grader next to me politely coached me through the proper way to eat.

“No, ma’am, like this… We must use both the spoon and fork, ma’am… Ma’am, the roti needs to stay on the plate.”

After lunch, I shadow the elementary or high school teachers. Basically, I sit in the back of a classroom and watch. Classes are structured in a similar manner to western classes, but students stand when called on to give their answers.

While I walk in the hallways, often curious elementary students stop to ask the paler-than-a-piece-of-paper girl some questions. Typically, they ask my name and home country. But I have been asked several unique questions. These are my favorites:

• “Ma’am, what are those?” (pointing to my freckles)
• “Ma’am, why are Americans so disrespectful to their elders?”
• “Ma’am, have you heard of Poland?”
• “Ma’am, what are your relations?” (asking about my family)
• “Ma’am, do all Americans have yellow hair like you?”
• “Ma’am, what is America’s national flower?”
• “Ma’am, why is your skin so fair and pale?”

Occasionally, the girls will also offer compliments with their questions. One girl paused in the hallway to say, “You are looking well today, ma’am.” Another small second-grader gently petted my arm and sheepishly assured me that my skin was “soooo soft.”

Without a doubt, these little ones have stolen my heart and reminded me that, no matter how different, we are all humans with hopes and dreams and an abundance of questions.

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What is the weirdest question a child has ever asked you? Tell me about it in the comments below!