PEOPLE LET´S NOT GET ANGRY
As a volunteer I am teaching at the school in the remote village of Mulbekh in the Himalayas and staying with the families of local pupils. Usually in the afternoon when I return from school, a cup of tea awaits me. My “grandmother” and the children sit across from me, watching how I enjoy tea! I enjoy it – the tea is salty and with flour.
Salty tea is an important source of nutrients here Ladakh. Flour is added to each cup, creating a sort of liquid cake that helps one survive until dinner, which is served around 11 PM. Until then, parents and grandparents work in the fields, care for animals, cook, while children help, play, and learn by the stove. In the morning at 7 AM, breakfast consists of tea, flatbreads, and boiled vegetables. Another sip of salty tea, butter, salt, and flour dissolve on the tongue. As I slowly sip from the cup, my “grandmother” smiles and commands, “Drink, drink!” We sit on carpets—Norboo, Stanzim and me.
Education is the Soul of Society
Norboo is a ten-year-old student at Spring Dales Public School in Mulbekh, a village in northern India. Mulbekh lies at 3500 meters above sea level in the Himalayas in Ladakh, often called "Little Tibet." The main religion is Buddhism, with the Dalai Lama as the spiritual leader. Ladakh is a frequent refuge for Tibetan refugees. Stanzim, Norboo’s 14-year-old sister, attends the governmental school in a nearby village, Wakha, walking 1.5 hours each way. Norboo's school is “behind the house,” straight down the road and up a path between the fields. While Spring Dales Public School proudly displays "Education is the Soul of Society," the government school bears the slogan "Learn to Serve."
Spring Dales Public School charges tuition and is supported financially and spiritually by the Dalai Lama and the Czech Brontosaurus movement. I came to Mulbekh with Brontosaurus volunteers, teaching alongside others. Some volunteers are teaching, the others are building the new school. Our lessons run from 10:30 AM to 1:30 PM, and after school, we play football, volleyball, chat, and hike in the mountains. The football field is a dusty plateau with brick goalposts. When the ball goes out of the pitch, it flies deep into the valley.
Ladakhi Reality
Norboo takes a paper, draws a track, marks houses with crayons, creates figures, and quickly makes a “dice” with numbers for us to play "ludo or in Czech Man do not get angry..." In the spacious guest room with a view of the road and mountain peaks, a low-energy light bulb casts cold white light. As we play, the light suddenly goes out, and the entire house is plunged into darkness. Only the fire in the stove across the kitchen flickers. When the power goes out, the flow of news, Bollywood films, and TV shows stops. The television in the next room runs almost nonstop, flashing ads across the screen: heroes rush in shiny Ferraris with their sexy girlfriends to nightclubs on skyscraper rooftops. Outside a Tata Nano car is parked, Tata Sky provides satellite TV, and Stanzim talks to her father on Tata Mobile. A Tata tanker with petrol from Srinagar passes by. In the local shop, Tata water is sold in plastic bottles. We arrived in a Tata Mahindra vehicle. This is also life in Ladakh. "My dad is in the army in Chandigarh. We visit him once a year, and he was here this May," says Norboo. Most adults work in government, the army, or on the farm. The father is often away, and the son will likely face a similar fate, while the mother looks after the household.
School and the World Beyond
“People here need to get a good education. They need to know what the world is like elsewhere. We are happy that volunteers come to teach,” says Skarma, one of the school founders. The current school director, 35-year-old Tsewang Norboo, studied in Delhi for several years. “I’ve always known my mission was here. I want to raise children with good hearts, sharp minds, and skilled hands.” Every morning, a colorful spectacle unfolds in the dry hills – children in maroon sweaters and light blue caps head to school. Morning assembly takes under the open sky among the peaks of Himalayas “We Shall Overcome.” sing the whole school, my eyes are wet from emotions. I enter the classroom, and the first graders rise and shout in unison, “Good morning, Sir!” They sit down, I thank them, and the entire class stands again, responding, “Thank you, Sir!” Such strong discipline makes me feel self-conscious. As a volunteer, I teach visual arts and photography to grades 1–4. Creativity is lacking in the local curriculum, so the children eagerly look through homemade viewfinders and enthusiastically draw. We brought postcards painted by their Czech peers, and the Ladakhi children send similar postcards back. Collage is the main theme of the lessons.
Under the Watchful Eyes of Buddha
“Punk never dies,” “Puma,” “Nike,” “Friends,” “God Bless You,” and “Being Human” are large stickers on cars, trucks, and buses in the village. Along the roadside, there are signposts with slogans like, “After drinking whiskey, driving is risky,” and “If you love her, divorce speed.” On the opposite hillside, the snow melts into a cross shape, and below, an enormous sculpture of Buddha is carved into the rock, watching over pilgrims. A Buddhist monk gazes into the distance, while girls wash their hair in a stream by the road. Nepali road workers lay asphalt, burning tires and boots in barrels, discussing the strength of the Indian rupee and the weakness of the Nepali one. The locals greet each other with “Dzhuley” (a Ladakhi word meaning “Good day,” “Thank you,” or “Goodbye”). Everyone smiles when they say it – try saying "Dzhuley" and smile, too! For the weekend, we head out for a picnic, traveling by microbus. The whole journey is filled with singing and dancing, with some children and teachers riding on the roof. Along National Highway No. 1, I notice tents with workers and their families who live here, repairing the road damaged by the harsh winter. It seems as though they are breaking rocks with their bare hands.
Respect and Joy Above All
We arrive at the spot, unload the goods, and the bus driver drives into a stream to wash off the dust. In no time, a field kitchen is set up, and the music plays. Students and teachers dance. I am amazed at how older students help the younger ones set up tents and find places to sleep. The respect younger ones show older ones is extraordinary. Third-grade students introduce themselves. Among 20 children, 8 are named Stanzim, a Ladakhi variation of Tenzin, the name of the 14th Dalai Lama. “I am Kryštof,” I introduce myself to one boy as we toss a flying disc. “Hi, I am Buddhist,” he replies, thinking probably I meant to say I am Christian. The time for the celebration has arrived: on July 6th, the Dalai Lama celebrates his 77th birthday. The girls and boys wear beautiful traditional costumes. The girls carry baskets of yellow flowers, moving joyfully to the rhythm of live music. We dance the polka. The men sit on one side, the women on the other. People share biscuits, tea, water, or local alcohol, which resembles wine. The courtyard is covered with a canopy from a hot air balloon. At noon, lunch is served – lentils, vegetables, rice, and flatbreads. Everyone washes their tin plates at the pump.
Children from first grade learn Ladakhi, Hindi, and English, and some schools also teach Urdu. Each of these languages has a different script... Now it’s the weekend, and the entire school is heading for a trip to a monastery high in the mountains at 5000 meters above sea level. “Last year, a child got lost here. The whole community searched for him, but he was simply gone. After a week, a shepherd ran into the village saying he had found the child. He had been sitting by a cave, how did he survive without water and food? How could he climb so high? It was a sign, and today that boy is in the monastery; he will be a monk.” The school director answers our questions about child safety in the mountains.
The Ladakhi teachers point out the carvings on the rocks, where I recognize Tibetan letters. On the left, there’s a print of a monk’s footprint, who allegedly survived a leap across a gap to a cave during an ancient war. The students, like us volunteers, listen intently. At the top, we are treated to a breathtaking view of the Himalayas and the cave monastery, where the children pray.
