Factual Storytelling: A Change Of Country, A Change Of Life

A Change Of Country, A Change Of Life

I've now been back at home longer than I was away. For the most part I've been very happy ever since returning to Australia and I haven't devoted much thought or time to remembering my five months in India. But looking back on photos I start to miss my Indian home: the people, the places, the food, the adventure. India was by no means an easy place to live, how could it be with over a billion people crammed in like sardines? But it was the story of a lifetime.

I signed up to Lattitude Global Volunteering halfway through Year 12 when exams had my nerves stretched to breaking point. Sitting at my computer day after day I would dream about the adventure that awaited me if I just got myself through my final year of school.

It seemed to take forever, but eventually the day dawned when it was time to leave. My mum and dad kissed me goodbye and before I knew it I was on my own, heading off to one of the poorest, craziest countries in the world. I began to wonder what I'd let myself in for.

When people ask me, “how was India?” I find it very difficult to answer. Everything that could be said about India, the opposite is also true. My trip was both wonderful, and horrible. There were times I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe and there were times I wanted to curl up in a ball and know it was over. It is a country of contrasts. You can walk down the street and see a man as fat as a walrus walking past a man whose body is wasting away to nothing.

I taught English at a middle class school called Olympus High. Every afternoon I would also go and help out at a slum school a few kilometres down the road and these kids had nothing but the borrowed uniforms on their back. In contrast to the kids at Olympus they were skinnier, less confident, and their school books were carried in plastic bags. But their enthusiasm to learn was unparalleled. Though their English was much poorer they were the best students I have seen in any school anywhere in the world. I taught them songs, showed them videos of Australia and its wildlife and every afternoon as I left the little room where I taught them I felt a warmth inside me and a sense of pride for what I was doing. To know that I was helping these kids get an education and make something of themselves was an indescribable feeling. Its the most rewarding thing I've ever done.

 

As the months rolled by I grew to love and hate India almost equally. The pollution was almost unbearable. It clung to my skin, made my eyes yellow, my snot black and my hair fall out. Hygiene was basic and I found the reactions of my friends and family back home funny when I told them I used squat toilets and washed out of a bucket of cold water. There was no water for washing hands, mosquitoes woke me up almost every night, and sometimes it was even too hot to sleep. It was these times I knew I was a long way from home, but I always felt grateful for the experience. To experience life in a much less privileged place, where people never complained about their situation left me feeling quite humbled.

 

I slept in a dormitory with twelve of the boarding children at Olympus High. We woke at six o'clock every morning (except Sundays), got ready for school, had a breakfast of chai and rusk (a sort of bread), attended/taught classes, ate lunch, and finished school for the day. After school the children had sports activities and they spent their evenings studying, only stopping for dinner. The dedication the Indian children showed to their school work would put Aussie kids to shame. Eight and nine year olds spent four to five hours a day doing after-school work. I truly came to love these kids and the staff who ran the dormitory. They are the best of India and what I miss the most.

I can remember wanting to cry when I saw the yellow sands of Australia from my seat on the plane. My country was so pristine and clean. Driving home was surreal. There were no people walking beside the road, no three-wheeled rickshaws or constant beeping horns, no rubbish, and no crazy drivers. The moon was white, not the hazy yellow I had become accustomed to seeing through the smog. I now know how lucky I am to live where I do.

I wish everyone could have as eye-opening experience as I did. It changed my perspective on life forever and gave me an appreciation I never had before. I grew up in India; I left still a child and came back an adult. In India I discovered how strong I really am, what I am capable of and what the world has to offer. Looking back at photos of my time there, it was the most rewarding thing I've ever done and it has helped make me who I am today.