It has been a whirlwind few days since my arrival in Bangalore. And I have to keep reminding myself about the quantitative aspect of that sentence - a few DAYS - not weeks not months but days. Because it feels like I have been here a lot longer. It also feels like I have been here no time at all.
The arrival has been smooth. The good folk at Stonehill International School have gone to great ends to ensure that all of the new hire staff (17 in total) feel comfortable, well fed, prioritised. They value their staff and this shines through in the attention to detail. The size and facilities of my apartment far exceed my needs. After sharing with students, artists, academics and cafe staff for the best part of ten years, I now have a 13th floor apartment all to myself. Gym, swimming pool and tennis courts. The muslims that run the local grocery store stare at me with unexpected affection and ask questions that might be considered invasive in Western countries. It is novel to be a novel animal.
The school itself is remarkable. Large, open designed workspaces and optional outdoor learning environments for the primary years. The gardens are beautiful and security guards pepper the lawns. A bus collects the staff for delivery to the school each morning (a practice that shall be maintained until the end of the year - by which point we are expected to have our own transport - on these roads?). Upon arrival at the heavily fortified gate a guard checks the front of the bus for explosives - then gives us the ok to proceed.
The school has great facilities and employs a full-time snake catcher. Yesterday he caught a seven foot long cobra just out front of the admin building. Several staff members ran to his aid as he held the snake by the tail and warded off its coiling stabs with a short stick. He trapped its erratic movements before seizing its head while the body thrashed in opposition. A guard appeared with a fabric bag (apparently designed for the occasion) and our hero nonchalantly held the snake aloft while it bounded against his arm and shoulder. He popped it into the bag as though he were Santa delivering a sweet into a stocking, then carried it about, smiling while we marvelled at its contents. The school employs a great number of people to fulfil its many requirements.
Way back in January I was employed as an English teacher. When I arrived at the school on Monday morning I was introduced as the Drama teacher. This created some confusion. I will be teaching some English. But I am the new Drama teacher. Which spins me out a little.
Any of you who have followed my blog will know that I was, as a writer, at my most industrious when last I was travelling. I continued to write after I got back to Melbourne, but the spark had gone out of my pen - I had stopped journalling, and the occasions for publishing were separated by greater intervals. It was the desire to rediscover this spark that sat behind my decision to move overseas. I believed that working with motivated students in a foreign land might create the necessary context for reigniting that creative fire. But the subtle difference between being an English teacher and a Drama teacher makes me wonder if it might be a different set of coals that receive the stoking. I haven't written a scrap in my journal yet - and this first blog entry comes five days after my arrival - which might not sound unreasonable, but I had expected to be wilfully blogging by day two at the very latest. Perhaps it is because my arrival has been so carefully planned and catered for - I have yet to find the deep end. Perhaps it will be as simple as taking away a few ingredients, or adding a few. Or maybe a different skill set will need to be cultivated. I have only been here a few days. It has been an extremely busy few days. And it is way too soon to know.
From amid the whirling winds of Bangalore, thank you for reading.
The arrival has been smooth. The good folk at Stonehill International School have gone to great ends to ensure that all of the new hire staff (17 in total) feel comfortable, well fed, prioritised. They value their staff and this shines through in the attention to detail. The size and facilities of my apartment far exceed my needs. After sharing with students, artists, academics and cafe staff for the best part of ten years, I now have a 13th floor apartment all to myself. Gym, swimming pool and tennis courts. The muslims that run the local grocery store stare at me with unexpected affection and ask questions that might be considered invasive in Western countries. It is novel to be a novel animal.
The school itself is remarkable. Large, open designed workspaces and optional outdoor learning environments for the primary years. The gardens are beautiful and security guards pepper the lawns. A bus collects the staff for delivery to the school each morning (a practice that shall be maintained until the end of the year - by which point we are expected to have our own transport - on these roads?). Upon arrival at the heavily fortified gate a guard checks the front of the bus for explosives - then gives us the ok to proceed.
The school has great facilities and employs a full-time snake catcher. Yesterday he caught a seven foot long cobra just out front of the admin building. Several staff members ran to his aid as he held the snake by the tail and warded off its coiling stabs with a short stick. He trapped its erratic movements before seizing its head while the body thrashed in opposition. A guard appeared with a fabric bag (apparently designed for the occasion) and our hero nonchalantly held the snake aloft while it bounded against his arm and shoulder. He popped it into the bag as though he were Santa delivering a sweet into a stocking, then carried it about, smiling while we marvelled at its contents. The school employs a great number of people to fulfil its many requirements.
Way back in January I was employed as an English teacher. When I arrived at the school on Monday morning I was introduced as the Drama teacher. This created some confusion. I will be teaching some English. But I am the new Drama teacher. Which spins me out a little.
Any of you who have followed my blog will know that I was, as a writer, at my most industrious when last I was travelling. I continued to write after I got back to Melbourne, but the spark had gone out of my pen - I had stopped journalling, and the occasions for publishing were separated by greater intervals. It was the desire to rediscover this spark that sat behind my decision to move overseas. I believed that working with motivated students in a foreign land might create the necessary context for reigniting that creative fire. But the subtle difference between being an English teacher and a Drama teacher makes me wonder if it might be a different set of coals that receive the stoking. I haven't written a scrap in my journal yet - and this first blog entry comes five days after my arrival - which might not sound unreasonable, but I had expected to be wilfully blogging by day two at the very latest. Perhaps it is because my arrival has been so carefully planned and catered for - I have yet to find the deep end. Perhaps it will be as simple as taking away a few ingredients, or adding a few. Or maybe a different skill set will need to be cultivated. I have only been here a few days. It has been an extremely busy few days. And it is way too soon to know.
From amid the whirling winds of Bangalore, thank you for reading.
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