Picnic, Play and Changing the World

By Lotte Webb

Since arriving in Pune as an independent volunteer for Deep Griha Society at the beginning of September, my timetable has included two school drop-out classes at Tadiwala Road. The first class are aged 10-13 years and the other aged from 3-12 years. Many of these children have adult responsibilities, and the school drop-out classes seek to provide informal education and an opportunity for them to be children again. This is a wonderful vision.

On a day to day basis our lessons include a range of activities. I generally begin by singing some action songs in English, and particular favourites include ‘Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes’ and ‘Hokey Cokey’. Following this, I ask the students to sit in a circle, and we spend some time practising spoken English. I also use this time to focus on building relationships between students in the class, as they can be quite rough with each-other. We do activities and games like passing around a toy, saying, “my name is Lotte, your name is Sadam." I have a puppet called Tommy who has proved to be a particular favourite for this activity. We also roll a ball across the circle, practising names, and use clapping and rhythm-based games. It is gratifying to see them beginning to trust each-other, to respond to the games, to ensure that all are included, and to bond as a group. These activities are also accessible to children of all abilities, which is necessary in such diverse groups. The main part of the lesson usually involves some kind of written or arts and crafts-based activity, which ranges from making puppets and mobiles, to drawing, colouring, writing and sticking.

I have a sense of deepening relationships with all of my students. The classrooms and areas where I teach are becoming more and more full of displays of the students’ work, which is a delight for me. There are flying birds, bright parrots and peacocks, English writing, drawings, portraits, Diwali glitter pictures, favourite foods and animals and colours dancing across the walls. I find it creative and rewarding to prepare new activities for the children each lesson, and to see their delight in their work on display on the walls. They come into the room, and smile and point at their work on the wall. In addition to creative work, their spoken English continues to improve.

Before I came to India, I was involved in fundraising for the Deep Griha Society; I wanted to be able to offer financial help in addition to my own time and energy. During this time I was a trainee teacher on placement in St Augustine’s High School, Westminster: a multicultural, multi-faith inner London school. As part of my work experience, I was given the opportunity to lead several assemblies. I took this opportunity to educate the students of St Augustine’s about the work of Deep Griha, and to include them in the fundraising efforts. Various students helped me to gain sponsorship for a sponsored walk from London to Canterbury, in addition to collecting stationery and other kinds of donations to be a gift to the children at Deep Griha. I also prepared a PowerPoint lesson for the Year 7 Personal, Social and Moral Education, about the work of Deep Griha, including showing the video via hyperlink from the DGS website.

While I was preparing the assembly, I began to reflect about the message I wanted to communicate to my students. I feel that one of the greatest myths of our society is that one person cannot make any difference. I wanted to tell the students that each one of them can and does make a difference. In order to express this, I worked with some students on a dance mime, telling the story of Deep Griha. I spoke about Dr Neela Onawale, and her vision and willingness to reach out to others in the ways that she could, which has led to the flourishing of Deep Griha as we know it. We chose the song, ‘Where is the Love?’ (Black Eyed Peas). One student represented Neela Onawale, and she began to walk as the music played. As she passed by others who were in need or suffering, she took their hand. Each person then reached out towards another person, and the chain began to grow. The chain wove its way off the stage and around the students in the school hall, taking other hands as they went, until the chain was a long, dancing line of human beings linked by love.

Following this, I spoke about the vision of the City of Child. While I had been reading through the website for inspiration, I was struck by the vision of City of Child, and by the beauty of the gift of a playground from a school in Scotland to the children at City of Child. What is it to give a child a playground? Laughter; childhood; play; exercise; fun—things which are so fundamental for children, and yet there are no playgrounds here in the slums. Certainly there is play, but the environments are often hazardous. To make the gift of a playground is to give a place where the children at City of Child, and local children from the rural villages, as well as children from the slums, could play. I recall being particularly struck by this vision of City of Child as a haven, or place of retreat, where children from the slums could go and experience play, the beauty of the countryside and fresh air. Even one day out of the ordinary can change a person’s life.

So, as I began to teach my own school drop-out classes here in Tadiwala Road, a dream began to form in my mind and heart. I wanted to take these children on a picnic to City of Child. I wasn’t sure how to organise it, but after negotiations with various staff at Deep Griha, we agreed upon Friday 14th October. When I told the children, they literally jumped up and down with excitement, and I could have cried. It was incredibly moving to see them express such excitement and pleasure in the idea. Their teacher too was nodding and smiling, saying, “very happy” and laughing with the children.

On the morning of the picnic, instead of riding to work in the usual Deep Griha jeep, we drove in the ambulances over to Tadiwala Road. When we arrived the children and teachers were all waiting, and as we got out of the van they excitedly screamed ‘didi, didi’ and came rushing around us! We somehow managed to squash about 50 children and 6 adults into two 12 seater minibuses! I was personally in a double seat with 3 children and a large sack of garlic, so there wasn’t exactly much leg-room! We drove in convoy for the hour-long journey over to City of Child. The children went through their repertoire of English songs a number of times during the drive, and particular favourites include the Rainbow song; Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes, and Hokey Cokey (the latter two of which are not easy to lead when feet and toes are entirely obscured by sacks of garlic and small people!)

When we arrived at City of Child I immediately took the children over to the playground, where we spent a happy morning. There is a climbing frame, slides, swings of varying types, and a very fast roundabout. I and the other volunteers were enjoying pushing the children on the swings and roundabout. When they decided they wanted me to go on the roundabout, I was very glad I knew the word ‘Bas!’ (enough!) as I was spun around at an alarming rate by enthusiastic 13 year old boys! While I was playing with the younger children, I heard someone shouting, ‘Didi, saab! Saab!’ Now, I know very few words in Marathi, but having taught animals in English, I recognized the word for snake. I went rushing over to the children (I’m not sure what I thought I was going to do, but it was instinctive) to find that Sadam had a viper on the end of a stick. In clear sign language and English I instructed him to throw it into a nearby field and come away!

After two happy hours in the playground, we went over to the eating hall for our picnic. Some children had brought food, and shared it, and others were given food along with the some children from City of Child. We all sat in a big square and ate together, which was wonderful. At City of Child there is always a blessing prayed before eating, which was led by one of the City of Child children, and repeated by all the other children. I believe that eating together builds community, and this is especially true in India where people are always so generous and wanting to share whatever they have with you. People had brought treats for the children, including a banana each, and some biscuits for afternoon tea, so it was a real feast for us all.

After lunch we went for a walk in the hills to a nearby lake, as City of Child is set amidst hills, and rural villages with thatched huts. The children enjoyed throwing stones into the water, and playing on the banks, though swimming was definitely not an option. On the way back they were picking custard apples and flowers to take home to the slums. We also went into a mandir where there was dharshan, before returning to City of Child. For me if was so special to see the children taking delight in the beauty of the scenery, a passing green parakeet or beautiful butterfly. We were all holding hands and singing as we walked. For some it may have been their first trip out of the slums and the city, and it is very moving to be part of such a journey. In some small way, it is changing people’s lives and expanding all of our inner worlds.

On the Monday following the picnic, I wanted to include in our lesson some reflection on our experience together of the picnic, to help the children to make meaning from all they had encountered. However, as ever the language barrier always makes things more challenging. How could I express the inner meaning, and encourage them to do the same, without being able to speak their language? In the end, I decided that the best thing I could do was to draw a picture of the day, and what it had meant to me. In the picture I included particular people, Sadam’s snake, the playground, Temple and lake, and the details which held meaning for me. As we sat in a circle that morning, I took out the picture and showed them all. They were smiling as I pointed to the different features, “yes, didi” they said, understanding. I then stuck my picture at the front for them to see, and gave them each some paper to draw their own pictures, writing “On Friday we went for a picnic to City of Child” on the board. It was wonderful to see the quality of the work they produced that morning, which is now proudly on display on the walls of the classroom under the title, ‘Our Picnic’.

A month later, the experience clearly remains fresh and strong in their memories. This afternoon, as I was sitting working at the computer, two of my students came to find me. “Didi, didi” they called, and took me by the hand, making it clear that they wanted to show me something upstairs, in the area where we have our lessons. I allowed myself to be led up the stairs and they proudly pointed to the chalk board, which had been divided into two sections, each filled with a lively picture of children playing, mountains, temple, playground with swings and slides and flowers and trees. “Picnic, Picnic” said Puja, pointing proudly at her board mural of our day at City of Child as she and Menakshi smiled broadly. “Picnic, didi…”