Five Months at Ummeed

Not smiling is honestly impossible

Name: Harry Robertson

Nationality: United Kingdom

Email: Harry.robertson4@gmail.com

Job Title: Long-Term teaching volunteer and Online campaign promoter

Job Description: Teaching English and Mathematics to children at Ummeed Aman Ghar, promoting Dil Se campaign through various online methods (blog, facebook page etc)

Introduction: I've come from the UK for a period of six months to work with the children at Ummeed Aman Ghar. I've been here nearly three months now, and have had what can only be described as an incredible experience.I've always enjoyed teaching, and while I loved teaching children in the UK, I have found my work at Dil Se infinitely more rewarding and enjoyable.

In all honesty, my arrival in India was not exactly a calming experience. Having stepped onto the plane through six inches of snow and temperatures hovering around zero, I stepped off five hours later into what would constitute a warm English summer day. A taxi ride, an auto drive and a short walk, and all of a sudden I was standing in the place where I was intending to live for the next five months.  

This was three months ago now, and the impression I formed within the first week has pretty much held true: enjoyable although slightly chaotic. I’m from the UK and have just finished school – I’m on a gap year before I go to York University this September. I’m naturally very disorganized, I don’t speak a word of Hindi and if the temperature outside rises above 30 C then I become a useless pile of sweaty laziness. The reaction most people have to this information is one I have, by now, become used to. There’s a few seconds of processing time, a slightly bewildered look, a widening of the eyes, and a vague attempt to phrase the question “Are you completely insane?” in a socially acceptable manner. 

Insane or not, I have survived so far. Not speaking Hindi hasn’t been much of a problem – most things can be translated with a bit of patience and some over-the-top acting – and learning a little has proved very useful. And the temperature? Well, I’ve just had to live with that. 

Living at Ummeed, though, has been fantastic. Most people would imagine that the huge smiles shared by most boys when saying “Hello” to me would wear off after a few weeks – A new guy living there can only remain a novelty for a short while, after all. Or so I thought, at least. It’s been three months and still, walk into any room and I can expect to hear “Harry bhaiya!” and see a smile so wide it’s a miracle it fits on whichever face happens to be wearing it at the moment. 

I’ve spent the time working as a teacher of English and Mathematics, which has been far easier and more enjoyable than I’d expected, given my (albeit limited) previous experience of teaching in the UK, for one simple reason: the boys at Ummeed want to be taught. UK children will drag themselves to school, look grumpy and begrudgingly listen for half an hour before traipsing out of the class. On the other hand, the Ummeed boys will ask me how long it is until the next lesson, walk in smiling and, still smiling, thank me as they leave. I’ve had boys regularly upset because I can’t manage extra lessons for them, or, upon agreeing to do an hour of extra lessons for a boy, have found myself persuaded to sit around for three or four hours of extra teaching.

A lot of people seem to be under the impression that the most tragic thing that can happen to a child is for him or her to be forced into education when they simply want to play outside. I would disagree. Having seen the children at Ummeed, it is now only too clear that it a far worse crime to stop a child from learning when he or she truly wants to.