As the final class of the day, this group of 30-odd boisterous lads could have been a real nightmare – especially coming hot on the heels of 4A. However, as with so many of my classes, they were chock full of personality and, regardless of their teenage-boy physiology, were nearly always a pleasure to teach. They often surprised me by getting through the workload of much smaller classes and it was a testament to their over-riding good natures (coupled with a strong desire to get outside and play) that I rarely had to shout at them…although one or two recalcitrants were often to be found squatting away in front of the blackboard.
Many of the boys had it in them to be every bit as unpleasant as their older friends in 6A but some basic decentness of character seemed to prevent them from falling into these bad habits. There was a not-inconsiderable amount of beating and the occasional unkind name-calling but, for the most part, they seemed to throw their lot in together as a class and, even when over-excited, mostly seemed to police themselves. Much as with their peers in 5A, they really seemed to have benefited from the extra time they’d spent at Samata school compared to the Class 6 boys. However, in their case, I think it was their behaviour that had been ameliorated by the community spirit and discipline of the school.
There was no natural leader as such, probably as there were so many personalities and characters in the class that there was too much competition for one or two guys to hold sway over everyone else. Being clever in 5B was not seen as being uncool and, in fact, one of the most popular kids, Rajesh, was probably one of the brightest kids in the school…and a total malco when it came to sports and games. In a British school this would be a recipe for being the butt of many jokes but his generous nature meant that he was always willing to share his knowledge and, thus won himself many friends.
These guys certainly knew how to have fun and I think, in a way, I was privileged to have them for the last lesson of the day…as long as there was a bit of time to escape to the playground. A full eight lessons stuck inside would often have them champing at the bit, which could be difficult if there was too much work to get through – but if we did get out into the playground they always played every game to the limits and revelled in the freedom to run and shout unrestrained. Binod and Sanjeev – two of my quieter, younger and best-behaved boys, who would sit and work unbidden at the front of the class – would fly onto the bricked surface like trained gymnasts onto the floor and pull of a string of exuberant handsprings to celebrate their freedom. British Bulldogs was always competed fiercely with no quarter asked or given by the smallest or the largest. The most fun I can remember having with them though was when Michael and I were instructed by them in the pleasures of Nepal’s national sport, Kabbadi. I had distant childhood memories of watching this exciting, but incomprehensible, sport on Channel 4 of a Sunday morning and it felt very surreal to be playing it out there on the playground. It was hilarious when Michael and I tried to keep up our constant ‘Kabbadi, Kabbadi, Kabbadi…’ as dictated by the rules during forays into enemy territory…we often ended up tongue-twisted and laughing and would be derided by the kids before being made to sit out on the sides.
Back in the classroom the laughter was never far from my lips. Sometimes I’d be suppressing giggles as dopey Norbu dropped himself in it for the umpteenth time and found himself squatting at the front. He always wore an air of resigned nonchalance befitting of the class clown and, to his credit, never complained when justly punished. The kid was strong and could pull off enormous numbers of reps without pause but the sweat would, nevertheless be streaming down his face by the time he sat down. Just because he was a clown didn’t make him stupid and, despite all the time spent doing exercises, he scored consistently good marks throughout the term. More than could be said for his partner in crime Pramod – every bit as much the clown with a mile-wide grin and a love of being centre of attention. He would take his punishments with pleasure and a big ‘Ehh!’ and consequently I took to calling him Roland after the daft TV rat of my childhood.
Buddha and Bishnu (fittingly named after Gods) were both tall and strong and the owners of particularly winning smiles (which, incidentally, made them very popular with some of the girls in 5A!). Neither was particularly talented in the academic department but their close friendship with Rajesh and a willingness to work hard meant that they always stayed near the top of the class. Alongside Phurba – with his oversized Rasta beanie and silly faces – those mentioned were among my favourite students. As with 5A, I could spend all day describing other members of the class but these were the standout characters in a class full of brio and ebullience. With luck, I’ll be able to follow their progress and, hopefully, see them again before they leave the school.
No comments:
Post a Comment