I am not this entertaining

When we arrived at Shree Gothbhyanjyang we were asked to meet with all of the teachers, and to visit each of the classrooms. The principal expressed to us that our presence would not go unnoticed, and that it was important to their board that we meet each class, introduce ourselves, and explain to them what we were doing. We were honored when they performed the tika ceremony and greeted us as special guests.

Proceeding to the classrooms, Nikita, our Nepalese collaborator, introduced us to the classes and we were asked to answer questions or give any advice. My colleague, Leah, took quite naturally to the children: she has experience as a teacher and a babysitter, so she knew exactly the types of answers they wanted to hear when asked about the differences between Nepal and the United States, and why they shouldn’t be worried to take their SLC exams.

Leaving the last classroom, we saw many of the younger students circling up in the courtyard. The teachers asked us if we wanted to play a game with them, to which we enthusiastically replied. Enthusiasm turned to panic when they asked us “So, what game do you want to play?” There were close to forty children that looked to be between ages five and nine, and I couldn’t remember a childhood game to save my life! “Duck duck goose?” I suggested to Leah, and she ran with it! While in Thailand, I had learned that touching a child’s head was culturally taboo, and was thankful that I had asked our Nepalese colleague, Sanmita, about this before embarking on our trip; fortunately, there is nothing wrong with touching a child’s head in Nepal.

In an attempt to be less intimidating, we agreed that there would only be one capstone member with the Nepalese collaborator while conducting the survey. The other capstone member would stay outside the classroom with the other children while they waited. Leah was to record the first set of surveys, while I was tasked with trying to keep the children away. Speaking very little Nepali, I entertained the children for a few minutes with my Nepali phrasebook, having them help laugh at me pronouncing Nepali words and phrases. Even the teachers were interested in this book! This, however, would not distract the children from the questioning happening upstairs in the classroom, so I attempted to teach them how to play ‘The Human Knot’.* Not speaking the same language, it took a couple tries because the 12 year old boys were far more interested in laughing at how tangled they had become. Eventually I got them to understand that they needed to try to step over each others legs to become untangled, but then they realized that with their collective power, they could easily lift the boy who had stepped over. I think this is as far as they got, but they had taken the game and made it their own. Looking to me again, and running out of ideas, I began playing ‘Patty Cake’ with one of the girls. This game grew to be quite popular: we started chains of ‘Patty Cake,’ switching directions and partners, speeding up and slowing down the pace. I knew Pandora had opened the box when I saw younger children playing the game and even singing ‘Patty Cake’ in English! One enthusiast and bold young girl was so eager to play me that she came right up and starting tapping my hands! I loved her lack of fear and enthusiasm; I tried to play with other girls, but this girl continued to be insistent. I played ‘Patty Cake’ so many times that my ring had broken! After what had been almost two hours, I went upstairs to check on how the surveys were going, not sure how much more playing I could do.

I am not this entertaining.

*To the writers of the Lonely Planet Nepali phrasebook, please include the word ‘knot’ in your next edition.