Nongkrem

All things have a beginning, a middle and an end but for so much of this trip we have felt firmly in the middle of it. Two months away from a mattress, a hot shower, family, friends, work and marmite on toast . . . They all amount to making time slow right down. This does have major benefits though. Time to reflect, time to plan. The last few weeks have been consumed by both of these things. As we boarded the plane to Delhi, our role was clear: fact find. We can now look back and say we have achieved so much more than that, we have put solid foundations in place to allow LBQ and the schools which use it the opportunity to flourish for years to come. That isn’t blowing our own trumpet, that is testament to our colleagues, now friends, who work out here.

Throughout the trip we have written daily reports, capturing the good, the bad and the unbelievable. Most of these detailings have focussed on the goings on within the classrooms. Looking back at those reports, it is now clear why we maybe felt overwhelmed by the task ahead. No structure, no speakable usage of LBQ, no training, no purpose and absolutely zero organisation. These are the things we have tried so hard to rectify and all the while knowing it will be out of our control once we leave. This is where our plan for the project has focused: long term sustainability. The role communication has in this can not be underestimated. Wanlang has joined the project for this purpose, he will be the main point of contact for whoever is the contact in the UK. We are really hopeful and optimistic it will go from strength to strength.

Leaving Nongkrem will be bittersweet. It has been our home for 1/7 of a year (it feels strange when I think of it like that). We have met, spoken, joked and shared our experiences with so many of these people: from the ‘cafe’ owner who must believe we have a deep love for veg fried rice; Victorie, who tells us to, ‘Be quiet and listen!’ even when we are; the school improvement officer who we falsely believed was necking white wine outside the classroom every day; the many taxi drivers who despite living on the breadline, pour all their money into pimping out their ride; to Wanlang and Jop, who live and breathe the village with such commitment and love; the ‘retired’ doctor, who still sees over 90 patients every single day; the shop owner who sleeps in the shop with her two boys; the teachers, who have taken to LBQ and put themselves out of their comforts zones; the lady who invites us in for a cup of tea every time we pass her home (we have never been able to make it) and finally, to the children of Nongkrem, who shout out, “Hello Mr Dan, hello Mr Tom!” everywhere we go and who represent everything good about this village and everything we, as a UK society, are striving for. It is a very special place with very special people.

Last night we were invited to the annual anniversary for Unitarian’s. I loved it. We met at the church and then proceeded to follow the precession around the 4 1/2 km route. As a bamboo torch filled with kerosine was thrust into my hand, I immediately regretted wearing my nylon jacket. Health and safety doesn’t exist here in Nongkrem and it’s a good job: last night would have been called off during the planning stage. Every Unitarian in Nongkrem danced the whole way round and those who were not Unitarian shared just as much joy from their porches and front gardens: clapping, singing and waving to their friends and neighbours. Quite the definition of community. 

I am excited to get home now. I look forward to the many opportunities we are fortunate to have and I am thankful for it. We leave a place behind which deceives first impressions, a place which quietly holds the answers to many of our UK societal problems and that is what makes leaving such a bittersweet experience.