Disastrous education

So much attention, both nationally and internationally, is paid to the importance of education in Nepal. Yet even the most superficial analysis reveals what a raw deal the children are receiving in reality. I have written previously about the flaws of the chronically under-resourced government school system that sees so very few pupils (who are drawn from the lowest social classes) lasting the course to age 16 to take successfully the School Leaver's Certificate (SLC) examination. I have commented on the rote learning that bedevils both the government and private school methods of instruction, with examinations serving as tests of inculcation and memory rather than of education. I could write about the corporal punishment which is endemic in the schools and is just as vicious and sadistic as that which I knew as a boy in Ireland. However today I write about the latest news of the Ministry of Education deciding to close all government schools until the 10th of June. This is as a result of a lack of text books that over the weekend led to street disturbances at several locations across the country. The shortage is entirely due to the recent election when the national printing effort was directed towards producing ballot papers instead of the books that were necessary for the start of the academic year (April). So today's politicians have been elected to the disadvantage of tomorrow's citizens, who already have the cards so stacked against them. And those most disadvantaged kids whom we are trying to help will spend the next couple of weeks at the refuge providing a recreational and educational challenge to our already over-stretched staff. Brilliant.

Yesterday I visited our Arts Rehabilitation Centre in Godawari. It was lovely to witness our new art tutor, Jolanda Aucott, at work teaching the girls the basics of colour. The girls seem to thrive not just on the artistic input but on the attention that they receive from our enthusiastic volunteers. And the standard of mosaic work is soaring, with these becoming all the time smaller and more intricate, reducing shipping costs and making them more desirable to the tourist who might be limited by luggage space. The bee eater mosaic (published right) was designed by my wife Bev and based upon a photo I took at Bardia National Park (see my post of 4th April). It is just 12 cm by 16 cm and takes a girl around one week to make. Not bad for £60.

This morning's ornithological treat in my garden was a hoopoe which I spotted grazing on the lawn. It was a little distance away so please excuse the quality of the image. There's a mosaic in there somewhere...

Charity Founders meet in Nepal

Whenever you hear of a charity with a personal name attached, it is often the case that there is a tragedy (usually a death) underlying its founding. Such is the case with The Esther Benjamins Trust, named after my first wife who died so tragically back in 1999 (see the link to the story of the Trust in my own words at the bottom of the page). Last evening I had dinner in Kathmandu with Richard Carss who is on a flying visit to Nepal. He founded the Zoe Carss Education Trust after the death of his daughter in Thailand in 1996. Just prior to her visit there she had been teaching as a gap year student (age 18) in Nepal. Uncannily - and we see so many of these overlaps - I discovered that the school that she had taught at is a mere 200 yards from my home here in Godawari.


Richard's UK-based Zoe Carss Education Trust now funds education projects in South Africa (Richard's wife is a South African) and in Nepal. For the last couple of years the Trust has funded our schools' capital development project in Makwanpur and adjacent districts. Funds have been spent on enhancements at under-resourced government schools in villages within those districts. But as I wrote in a previous post, I now have serious reservations about such activities, attractively tangible as they might be in a land where so much development funding seems to vanish into the ether. My misgivings are based upon the pathetic quality of the education in these schools and a fundamentally flawed rote learning system. We can't repair these deep fault lines and providing funds to such schools only seems to condone unacceptable standards. On an entirely personal front, I am no longer convinced that I wish to remember Esther (and now Zoe) through the construction of school compound walls and toilet blocks. Moreover, as charitable organisations I feel we should be at the cutting edge of social change, setting an example for others to follow.


I discussed with Richard my latest idea of setting up a special school in Kathmandu dedicated entirely to serving the victims of child trafficking. This would pull together two of our initiatives that are currently underway as pilot projects. In Bhairahawa we have been running educational bridging courses that are designed to fast track returnees (including the pictured girls) who have no previous education into school at a level appropriate to their age. This course was set up by us last May in response to the returnees' request for a proper education (rather than a half-hearted non-formal education provision) and a wish not to join school and sit in class with infants. In parallel in Kathmandu we have been running an art workshop for returnees that has been teaching ceramics and mosaic techniques to older girls. This started in September and we have been enjoying the support of UK volunteer and professional potter Alex Hunter in this exciting development that will lead to jobs within the arts and crafts sector in Nepal. We see great merit in collocating both activities so that returnees have the option to mix their interests and see which pathway suits them better. A school in Kathmandu would be more readily accessible to Western volunteer teachers, both artistic and academic, and would put an appropriate distance between the students and their families in rural areas who only spoil their daughters' chances in life (again) by interfering in our provision.


I have shared this vision with Richard and we concur on the desirability of moving on to a higher level. It remains to be seen exactly what shape that partnership will take.


Sitting at the dinner table last evening and discussing our respective personal bereavements it inevitably became quite emotional. I was reminded by that once again of how gut-wrenching and fresh that sense of loss remains. But rather than being a pair of sad, inward looking people we find ourselves both here in a foreign land trying to make it a better place for some of the country's most vulnerable children. The human response to trauma can be quite paradoxical and perhaps it is our capacity to rise above this that sets us apart from animals and reflects the divine that is within us all, whether we choose to recognise it or not. The divine that happens to be saluted through the Nepali routine greeting of "Namaste".

Rural education in Nepal

I am about to host a visit from one of our UK funders, Mr Richard Carss, whose Foundation has been funding some of our work with rural schools in Makwanpur and adjacent districts. While we have been providing scholarships, his Foundation has been funding capital enhancements - classroom builds, toilet blocks, classroom furniture and the like. I intend to be totally frank with him in that I am increasingly of the opinion that we have been misguided in propping up a flawed system. And those who purport to support the existing system are often kidding themselves and others.


In previous posts I have mentioned the problems in village schools with huge classes, chronic under-resourcing and the routine rote form of learning that burdens children's memories pointlessly while stifling their creativity. Therein lie some of the intrinsic flaws. However, as part of a pursuit of the Holy Grail of increasing attendance and reducing drop out rates (especially for girls) incentives are used to motivate the children and their families that can totally backfire. I am currently refusing to fund any kind of a feeding programme in village schools in Rupendehi district as that fosters dependency (which once started is hard to break away from) and provides the wrong motivation to attend classes. I point to an example of how well-intentioned NGOs can get it wrong in an item that appeared in yesterday's Himalayan newspaper. It was reported that in one rural district an NGO has offered the incentive of two litres of cooking oil per month provided per child that attends classes. It seems that this has now become the only pathetic reason that families send their children to school. Children can keep repeating the same year at school over and over again, failing exams and without making any educational progress while continuing to receive oil. One mother said:


"If my daughter fails this year, we could get the oil for one more year. If she passes she will go to a distant school and there will be no one to do the household chores too. I will ask the teachers to fail my daughter this year."


So at the end of this programme (if the NGO can ever detach itself from it) the statistics will point to increased attendance of pupils and everyone, as I stated above, is fooled, including themselves. Indeed the "success" may become a paradigm for managing this endemic problem. Meantime the children will have achieved nothing, exploited by parents who seem to value them only in terms of a few paltry gallons of oil. This is why I believe we need to engage in something different and I will elaborate upon this in a later post.

It appears that the word is getting out internationally about progress on the international adoption situation in Nepal. Over the last day or two I have been obtaining more hits on this site from overseas couples who are suddenly - and understandably - researching the subject. So for those who haven't heard the news, the 440 pending cases are now going to be processed with the case files re-opened last Sunday for the first time in months. Maybe within six months they will all have been cleared, but this latter statement is a guess on my part.

This morning I found the butterfly pictured right lying dead by the roadside. This beautiful creature is a Lime Swallowtail, apparently quite common in this part of the country. In fact, interestingly Nepal has an estimated 850 species of butterflies and over half of them can be found here in Godawari. The aim now is for us to perform an act of resurrection, converting this butterfly into a vital mosaic and presenting it our mosaic exhibition in Skipton, U.K. on the 4th December. How rewarding that will be!