Sunday evening: Tonight is Brandon's brother's 25th birthday party. We arrive in Wanlang's pothole defying Suzuki with the rain lashing it down. A marquee has been erected and it is packed with chairs and a stage area. There are some speeches mid-flow and the mood is light with outbreaks of laughter punctuating the pauses from the addresser. Wanlang beckons for us to join him at his mother's house across the road. As with most Khasi households, I have to unceremoniously dip my head through the 5ft doorway before I find shelter. We are ushered into a sideroom where there are three generations of men in a bedroom watching Sheffield - Man City on a widescreen TV. Quality. If I am totally honest, I could have stayed there watching it all night but Wanlang ushers us out into the living room area and we sit whilst he selects a variety of songs from his phone - Ronan Keating, Boyzone and presumably some Khasi classics. Inexplicably, Ronan Keating is playing in Shillong next year and due to this Tom and I are assumed to be big fans. As I strain my ears to catch some of the city game from next door, we are interrupted.
"The DJ is here!"
It is true, the DJ is here and he is a familiar face from last year. With a huge grin he whips out his equipment. "This here, is very small - but it does the job." For clarity, the 'equipment' is his mixing desk and it is by far the smallest one I have ever seen. No bigger than two curly wurlys stuck together side-by-side.
"Will you stay to watch me?" he asks.
"Of course, looking forward to it!" we reply.
Wanlang must have itchy feet as we are ushered again, this time out of the room, back through the limbo stick doorway and across the road to the party. There is a significant shift in spirits as Brandon's brother stands at the front, microphone in hand - tears flooding as he speaks to the packed tent. We ask Wanlang to translate -
"He is thankful for being here, 25 years. Very thankful. Also, his Dad expired, he passed away." I'll never quite get used to that phrasing but with that aside it is an emotional moment. It is clear to see that there is a great sense of togetherness under that one sheet of canvas. After the speeches from numerous family members conclude, Brandon finally arrives from a taxi shift, his grin wide. He gives us a nod and then darts through the tent and out of sight only to reappear stood at the front in a shiny silver suit. After a period of everyone feeding the birthday boy cake and vice-versa I am thankful to be called up simply receive the cake and feed myself infront of the watching eyes. Inside I am begging any kind of higher force to keep the microphone well away from me: I do not feel well-placed enough to comment on Brandon's brother's 25 years of life. I don't know his name yet.
The party progresses to some karaoke and then to the curly wurly DJ set. It is impossible not to absolutely love it: Dad dancing, kids sliding on knees and grandparents sat motionless like a frame around the tent looking miserable. Some things are just universal.
Alcohol is not socially accepted here and so Monday morning it is up bright and early with a clear head to the school. Location? 'Just down the road only'. From Khasi to English that translates as an hour car journey. When we arrive at Thynroit Presbyterian School we are informed by the Principal that he thinks we are the first white people most of his students will have seen in real life. Whilst the school building is in need of severe renovation, the classrooms are calm and the children (who are early on in their LBQ journey) get straight into it. This is one of a number of schools that is shaping our future approach to the role out and delivery of LBQ in this area. We now have a couple of characteristics that are clearly defining the profile of the schools that we work with. Those that have a possibility of connecting to a district WiFi line and those that don't. There are also a cluster of schools that fall within the village of Nongkrem and those which are scattered more widely across the East Khasi Hills. A school such as Thynroit Presbyterian School will benefit from weekly outreach support by the team here: a whole days support using LBQ weekly, team teaching and getting the children used to the platform. As tempting as it may be to flood the school with devices, it would be at the detriment of another school who could make better use of 'the full package' of devices and licenses by learning from the nearby 'flagship' Paysyndiew School and having a reliable WiFi connection. We discussed this with the Principal who at first seemed deflated but then immediately encouraged that his school would still be a big part of the project. We leave feeling upbeat that this is another school with supportive staff and enthused students who will benefit from Jop, Khraw, Wanlang and the work they will continue to do with them in the future.
As the Suzuki plots its way along the barely roadworthy road, I think about last night's assumptions of my music taste. Boyzone? Really?
Oh no...
A terrifying flashback takes me back to my parents front room, aged 6 or 7, topless, a hairbrush, oh no . . . a practised dance routine with my sister and the sleeve of 'A Different Beat' open for the lyrics to belt out...
I think Boyzone may have been my first ever album.
