A Parade. A PARADE?!?!

Words can’t describe the emotions running through us today! Riyas planned to pick us up at the hotel and then drive to school, but he was not his usual “Let’s go!” self. It turns out he was stalling a bit. . .his phone kept ringing with messages of “just five more minutes” and “almost ready.” When we arrived at the stoplight in Wandoor, he told us the school was to the right, but he took a left. A few blocks down, we could see color and movement among the sandstone buildings and roadside shops.

Two colorful, decorative umbrellas were held by smiling girls in uniforms. Along with them were teachers who were positively beaming! A blur of saris and scarves and girls in different uniforms (brown for one level, light blue for another, white for the Junior Red Cross girls) and smiles everywhere turned into a lo-o-o-ong line of young ladies assembled in order down the narrow street. They had a banner with our names and photos and drums at the head of the line-up. . .A PARADE!

It took a few moments for it to register for me, but these young ladies--hundreds of them--had organized a parade in our honor! Along with their teachers and, we found out later, the media, we walked from that spot in Wandoor a few blocks through town, past the stoplight intersection where the police were directing traffic, and a few blocks more to the school’s entrance. Of course, I was crying like a fool! All of this for us? Emily (who had joined us for the first day), Sarah, Sandra and I just looked from the girls to the shopkeepers who lined the street to each other like “Is this really happening?!”

When we arrived at the school’s gate, there were several hundred more girls (and younger boys) lined up to meet us. The entrance and yard had been decorated with palm leaf strips on strings crossing the courtyards and everyone was clapping along to the music. Groups of girls, by standard and uniform color, stood on either side of us and cheered, held up welcome signs, and smiled.

We made our way to the staff room, where shade, water, and ceiling fans were our immediate needs. Gasping at the reality of what just happened, we glanced out the windows (open with just decorative iron) and saw hundreds of eyes peering at us from every available space. These girls were so excited and anxious to meet us! The purpose of our journey suddenly hit me and I wondered how I could “just teach” and not disappoint them. I only prepared a few lessons and, in conversations with Riyas, learned that the school had no whiteboards, no internet, no SmartBoards, one or two working projectors, and 45-55 girls in each class we’d be teaching. How could I do it for a week?! How could they do it on a daily basis?!

Deep breath. . .make our way to the stage area. . .think. . .observe. . .

On the stage, Emily, Sarah, Sandra and I were seated in the front (thankfully under a ceiling fan), with a podium and microphone to our right and about 30 people arranged around the stage area. As the announcements and welcomes built, the stage became more crowded with people. Soon, we were straining to see and hear the person speaking, but we had a clear view of the ladies sitting in front of us. Several times, we commented to each other that we couldn’t believe what we were seeing! They were all sitting quietly, some standing, some on their knees in front, some assembled on the stairs in the back of the room. Nobody talked or complained about the heat or humidity. Nobody took out a phone. Nobody giggled with a neighbor or asked to use the bathroom or pushed to get a better view. These girls had their arms around each other and smiles to light up even the darkest day! We were in awe of them. The parade should have been in THEIR honor!

Finally, it was time for us to speak. What could we possibly say?! After reading our biographies to the group, Riyas asked each of us to come up and say a few words. As I nervously took the microphone, a thought struck me: they are students. I talk with students every day of my career and I love it. This is just a larger group of them. Deep breath.

It’s a blur, but here’s what I can remember: I thanked them for their warm welcome and said that the four of us had earned many honors in our careers, but today was going to stay with us forever. We were honored and humbled to be included in their school for the week and I immediately saw the pride they felt in their community and school. I explained that we understood the name of the school to be the Government Girls Vocational Higher Secondary School, but when a girl does something extraordinary or acts in a mature manner, we begin to call them “young ladies.” So, I said “Thank you, young ladies. We are happy to be a part of you.”

Cheers, clapping, smiles. All week, I will be sure to address them as “ladies.” They have certainly earned it.