Saturday was unexpectedly wonderful. After two weeks of preparing our Tiwa dance, we performance. The older boys helped me dress in traditional Karbi attire with a sarong, a gamusa head wrap, Uttam’s Karbi vest and crossing gamusas across my chest and back. I thought I looked good and everyone else seemed to agree! The stage was a dozen rickety desks lashed together with rope and bamboo, covered in canvas, so we had to step carefully to keep our toes safe. Everybody started hootin’ and hollerin’ when we got up on stage. I didn’t know the moves too well but it didn’t matter. When we finished a fat man with a layered haircut spoke to the audience about discovering the hidden potential in every student by mapping their fingerprints and then Uttam talked and more people talked, awards were given, volunteers thanked, achievements of the last year discussed. Surprisingly I was only asked to speak briefly. We gave an encore Tiwa performance and the dancing was actually better, though the crowd had already seen our moves.

Tiwa dance

My lovely and talented partner, Seoti Teron

Once everyone left, the students had a dance party stage with a combination of traditional Assamese dance music and Hindi pop. Hormones were unleashed and they danced til dark. It reminded me again that Indian kids are 98% the same as American kids. There was one boy with serious moves for a twelve year old who only wanted to dance alone on the front of the stage. Watching his gyrating hips and two-handed, Backstreet-Boys-style heart-pumping, it seemed obvious to me that he was gay…without thinking to hide it, he was flamboyant even by Western standards. Homosexuality is not even close to discussion in Pamohi and it was another case of “Jeez, what would this kid’s life be like in not-Pamohi?”

My Tiwa buddies. 

Dancing with the students gave me a chance to be one of them, to learn with them as a peer without having to teach or discipline. Instead of wearing jeans and watching the event with the crowd of students and parents and fingerprint gurus, I could stand with the students in my bright get-up and make jokes with, pat backs and butts of, give hi-fives to, console, drink tea amongst, take pictures with and be photographed by – the students. It was camaraderie. It’s just what I was looking for when I came to Parijat Academy and this is the day I will remember when I think of this school.

Girls dancing Boro. There were 5 different dances, but this
was the best picture

Epilogue: Yesterday a bunch of engineering students came to chat with the students and I was invited to sit in the middle of class 9 by the students. I made fun of myself by asking them Aapunar nam ki? What is your name? using the formal “aapunar” instead of the informal “tumar” that I did like a noob when I first got here. This is probably less funny out of context. All the students stood up and introduced themselves really fast so when my turn snaked around, I stood up and said Nomoskaar, mor nam – (pause, wild applause) Shaffer Spaeth as fast as I could.

Volunteers thanked

Tets that we met in Cherripunjee came for two nights. We
had a wonderful discussion about religion, politics, travel,
vegetarianism and life.  I learned a lot from this wise man. 

I was scolded today for complaining too much about this school and was asked why I stay if I am so unhappy. I was probably complaining too much - there are frustrating problems with this school that I don’t blog much about for which no one is to blame and there are no good solutions. I shouldn’t do that. I told her that I stay because of the kids. I don’t think she believed me. But I hope I have demonstrated here that it is true.