Pokhara: week three - Pokhara, Nepal
Pokhara, Nepal
The big theme of our third week in Pokhara, appropriately enough for a couple of Brits, was the weather. Monsoon season was well and truly upon us, and in some style. On Saturday the rain had meant that we'd had to cancel our swimming trip with the kids, and we'd had a couple of adequate storms in the preceding weeks but really it was nothing compared to what we had coming up. On Sunday morning we woke up and it was raining. After that we didn't see the rain let up for more than an hour at any one time until Wednesday, and on Monday and Tuesday not at all. No wonder Nepal's so green! The storm on Friday night... well we'll come on to that. After a couple of weeks chilling out, spending time down at Lakeside and generally having a bit of time to get ourselves together, we had decided going into our third week that we needed to get out and about a bit more, lest we suddenly find ourselves with a week left having barely seen anything of Pokhara. The weather did nothing for this plan for the first few days, confining us amid the rain to our room or the children's home. On Sunday, a Banda (strike) had been called across the country, which had closed the schools giving the kids an extra day off. We've mentioned the Bandas already in this blog, and all we can make of them is that they are a pointless and crippling exercise which harm the country and its people preventing growth and stability. This particular day of strike had been called by a number of smaller political parties who disagreed with the date set for an election in November. Instead of bringing it up in an appropriate forum, they encouraged the whole country to skip work, with the public either jumping on the bandwagon with glee, or being too fearful to step out of line (we heard of a bus driver being shot in Eastern Nepal for continuing to operate on a strike day back in March). Possibly the situation is over simplified here and the real struggle and political points are being disregarded, but it is generally accepted by the majority of Nepalis we speak to that the strikes are a bad thing, and because there are so many they completely lose their effect. Last year there were more than 40 days of strikes across the country, which must have such a damaging effect not only on the general economy but also on the personal income of many families. Leaving politics aside for two minutes, we couldn't care less; due to the weather we were facing a day within the four walls of our room, so were quite happy to have a whole day instead playing with the kids! With Sita still away, Parbati took up the kitchen baton on Sunday morning, preparing a delicious dal bhat. We spent the morning upstairs preparing giant letters for their next arts and crafts task, but as we were half way through this there was a commotion downstairs as Julia, a Chinese volunteer who had spent a month or so with them previously, had shown up with 3 friends and a large bag of gifts. In exchange for t-shirts and Oreos, the children were happy to put on an abridged version of Friday night's party, and willing dancers were helped up to the front to perform their well-heeled renditions. Following this impromptu performance we got back to preparing our letters, eighteen altogether which spelt out THANK YOU LOVE FROM AAN. As mentioned before we had received a good number of donations from back in the UK, and we were in the process of collecting donations to go towards some chickens, so once the children had all designed and coloured their assigned letter with great care, we lined them up downstairs and took some pictures to send back to the UK, and for the home to use should they wish. The only downside was that at some point during proceedings Jenna's flip flops managed to walk off by themselves from their position lined up with everyone else's outside. We thought at first it was one of the kids borrowing them, but when they were all lined up for the photo and the flops still hadn't materialised, it became apparent that they'd been borrowed on a more permanent basis by an opportunist passer by. Despite the relatively subdued activity, we still needed some time off by mid-afternoon so left for a few hours before returning at 6 o'clock, by which time the rain had briefly subsided. We found some of the younger children upstairs with a pot of bubbles absolutely transfixed in watching these bubbles fly into the air from the first floor balcony. It was such a little thing but it was so easy to forget that such a simple thing can keep a group of kids of the right age entertained for much longer than we could possibly have managed. As it got dark we ate with the children for the first time, being served a dish of potato puri and fried bread Indian-style, which had been prepared by Santoshi. Leaving them to finish their day off with a Nepali movie, we returned home early. The next two days were utterly dominated by rain; from the moment we woke up to the moment we fell asleep, it drizzled, dripped, poured, cascaded and thundered pretty much non-stop. The clouds were close in around the hills, and would sometimes pass seemingly no more than 50m above the home. It was miserable. Monday was the first day of our time here we didn't accompany the children to the bus stop, and Tuesday was the second. Milan lent Dave a waterproof that had been left by a previous volunteer, and it was put to good use. By mid-afternoon on Monday we were sick of our room and braved the walk down to Bullet Basecamp for a hot chocolate and a change of scenery. It was even more dreary than our room, but as we didn't fancy going all the way to Lakeside it was the only option. Although our top halves stayed dry our legs were soaked, and after we'd warmed and semi-dryed we had to step back out into the rain to make our way back again. There was even a bull taking shelter under the canopy of the bar; we got soaked. An evening news class - our first in a while - on swimming, and a game of pairs for Jenna with Sima and Sarswati completed our evening On Tuesday morning we were reminded of our horrible bus journey back from Ilam. Sita, who had been in Kathmandu for a few days visiting a doctor, had been held up by a landslide on the main road caused by the endless rain, and her bus hadn't arrived into Pokhara until 1.30am. Too late for a taxi and with Milan unable to leave the children, she had spent the night on the bus in the car park before Milan could pick her up in the morning. She was given the morning off cooking the dal bhat! Tuesday was just as horrible if not more so than Monday, but deciding we couldn't stay in the room all day we trudged down to Lakeside and holed ourselves up for the day on a couple of sofas in Madhushala bar. Dave was pleasantly surprised to find haloumi on the menu, the first time we'd seen it since the UK. The weather was so bad when it was time to leave that we were forced to take a taxi back to the home. When we arrived back we bought three bags of milk so the children could have dudh chia, something they very rarely get. Continuing the spoiling theme, Milan had decided to buy chicken for the second time since our arrival, partly to cheer the kids up and partly because two new volunteers had arrived from Australia - Shannee and Claudia - who were coming for a month or so. The children have been getting more and more anxious about news class due to their impending exams, so Tuesday was to be one of the last for a while. Dave employed Ikshya to help him prepare a news class on Switzerland from a world encyclopaedia, due to the disappearance of the newspaper (sabotage?). Milan's brother is based in Switzerland and it is where most of the sponsors are based. The children have sporadic contact with their sponsors, and therefore have a fascination with the country, some of them hoping to visit at some point in their lives. The class was finished with a quiz between two teams, and their reluctance to participate was soon forgotten as they got competitive, openly questioning Dave's Maths skills during the decider. Jenna, meanwhile, was downstairs teaching five new words to do with dancing to the younger ones. On Wednesday morning we woke to find that the rain had at last ceased, and although the sun wasn't really out we jumped at the chance to get out and see some more of Pokhara. Having been cooped up for several days we decided to get our walking boots on and walk right over to the far side of the city to where there is a popular local waterfall and a Tibetan refugee camp. To add to the action-packed day we had gained permission from Milan to take the three older ones - Mausami, Sagun and Nabin - out for a drink to take them away from the boredom of their extended holiday and congratulate them on their results. We walked down through Lakeside towards the dam at the southern end of the lake (in the area known as Damside), stopping for a cuppa in the cafe of a large German bakery that supplies many other bakeries and cafes in Pokhara and the surrounding countryside. Continuing on we crossed a rickety bridge and found ourselves in paddy fields, with oxen being used to plough, and irrigation systems distributing the rainfall here and there. Back on the main road, we eventually found our way to the Tashi Ling Tibetan Refugee Camp. The words 'refugee camp' immediately bring to mind images of poverty and UN-provided tents, but as Tibet has been occupied by China since 1950, the children growing up here had parents and even grandparents who were born in Nepal. The community is well-established with a school, a monastery and a large showroom for displaying Tibetan carpets. It was here we made our way to, browsing hundreds of beautifully woven rugs and, despite their beauty, were eventually put off buying one by the price tags. Buddhist prayer flags hung from buildings, and small stupas had been built in courtyards. On one wall of the carpet showroom hung a banner with the picture, name, age and current status of every person known to have committed self-immolation in the last two years in the name of Save Tibet. Although the practice is not supported by any major pro-Tibetan parties the people are sympathised with, and a notice nearby asked people not to celebrate major festivities due to the ongoing crisis. After a browse of some handmade jewellery stores we began to walk back, realising we didn't have time to visit Devi's Falls due to our impending meeting with the kids in town. Back in Lakeside we walked into Boomerang to find Mim, Shannee and Claudia sat there, but no sign of Mausami, Sagun or Nabin, who had not shown up to their meeting point with Mim. A bit disappointed we had a drink anyway before heading back towards our room. The two Aussies had decided after one night that a month in The Garden was not for them, and they were moving their stuff out from Tika's to a guesthouse down in Lakeside. Arriving at the home at five we found a guilty-looking Mim and the three older children who we had meant to meet that afternoon. They had waited patiently at the meeting point for two hours until 4 o'clock, apparently just behind a tree where Mim hadn't seen them. As Sagun had come up especially and we wouldn't have another opportunity, a quick decision was made that we should turn around and take them out then, so we walked back down to Lakeside and took them to Perky Beans for mango smoothies and biscuits. Given that the majority of our time has been spent with the little ones, it was nice to spend some time and chat with the older kids, who at 16-17 were having to make big decisions about colleges and future plans. We introduced them to Jyaps (which Jenna stole after Dave had won all three uncounted warm-up games) and generally just chilled out with them for a few hours before returning for a dal bhat we really didn't need. Thursday was actually nice and hot, which was just as well as we had decided to accompany the kids to school on the bus. We were given seats and treated as a bit of a novelty on the bumpy ride there, and when we arrived the younger ones were eager to show us their depressingly bare classrooms and where they sat. Bold young boys queued up to shake Dave's hand while Jenna's hands were being held and whisked left and right by the girls. Not long after we'd arrived a bell sounded and children started whizzing in all directions before marching class by class out into the playground. They lined up with the youngest class at one end and the oldest at the other, and with the shortest classmember at the front and the tallest at the back. Standing in the shade of the three-storey classroom block, we were right in front of the kindergarten children, specifically Sima's class, who had stayed put. With the majority of the students now lined up, a teacher started directing them in some sort of military exercise programme - hands up, attention, at ease etc. - with the aid of a microphone and an older student keeping time with a bass drum. Once this odd warm-up demonstration had finished it quickly got odder, as the teacher leading began singing a Nepalese folk song. The lines of students then launched into an a cappella version of the national anthem, which in turn was followed by Ikshya striding to the front to greet her fellow students with a message over the tannoy. It was all a bit overwhelming, The morning formalities over, each class marched one by one back to their classrooms to the beat of the drum, and we were approached by the teacher who had led proceedings. He introduced himself as Dilli Ram Taipathi, Social Studies teacher for the senior classes. We had a brief conversation with him before being joined by one of the school administrators, and the two of them took time to show us around the school. Peering into the different classrooms we saw many of 'our girls', some of whom looked pleased and some of whom looked embarrassed as if their parents had come to say hello in front of all their mates. The classrooms as mentioned were bland with undecorated grey walls and just a white board up front, with the only exceptions being those for the very youngest. There was a library and a computer room, which the students got access to once a week. The parade square/basketball court was surrounded on three sides by buildings of between one and three storeys, and we were told that there were about 550 students at the school. Dilli Ram then took us to the most lavishly decorated room in the school: the staff room. We were beckoned to sit, and Dilli Ram taught us some of his Social Studies syllabus before we took the obligatory photos (including at his insistence one of him pretending to mark books), and were invited to dinner the following evening. We said we'd let him know. Making our excuses we left Dilli Ram to his pretend marking and pottered off out and down the street towards the new bazaar. Not much of a bazaar, this was more just a collection of shops on wide, busy streets all selling roughly the same stuff. After finding some thread to make bracelets with the girls, we found a local restaurant for some samosas before wandering south through the streets until we found our bearings. Walking through the dusty streets we could have been anywhere in Nepal. Pokhara for the most part is not pretty, it has no architecture of note, no buildings that stand out and very little in the way of culture. It is a wonder, then, that we like it so much, and is really the only place we've seen in Nepal where we could consider spending any real amount of time. Yes Lakeside is pretty, and it is well stocked with amenities for the westerner, but the real draws are just the views, when they are out, that make the city so special. It was hot, very hot, as we walked back to our room, buying stools, a chapatti board and mangoes and bananas on the way. Back at the children's home that evening we weren't really in the mood for hard work, so Dave spent most of his time beating first Bishal then Milan at Chess, while Jenna spent her time beating Yougesh at Connect 4 but then losing to Tulsa at Snap. On Friday morning the sun was out once again and we had a mission. The previous evening we had proposed the idea to Milan of taking all the children out for a meal at an appropriate restaurant in town, and it had been enthusiastically received. We just had to find that appropriate restaurant. A lot of the children had never set foot in a restaurant before, and the idea of taking 20 children out for an evening where they could choose their own food and drink and be waited on appealed to us. We also wanted some sort of entertainment thrown in, and came up with the idea of going to one of the restaurants in town that had a nightly culture show with Nepali dancing. After last week's failed attempt to go swimming, we had also agreed to reschedule that for the Saturday, thus creating a whole day of excitement. Milan had thought of the idea of combining the two activities by going to one of the hotels in town with a swimming pool. The extra expense that would come by being in posh surroundings would hopefully be saved by the fact we wouldn't need to book transport and we could create some kind of deal. Milan had quickly taken the situation into his own hands, making several phone calls to different people. Therefore we began by wandering down to Hotel Barahi in town to meet with one of the managers. There was another party happening there on the Saturday evening, they weren't particularly accommodating with the price, and it looked like we were going to be shoved into one corner. Never mind. Giving up on the hotel joint-swimming-and-meal idea as it looked like the kids weren't going to be able to act like kids, we walked down to Boomerang restaurant, an outdoor place we'd been to a couple of times and who ran a culture show each evening down by the banks of the lake. The food was perhaps a little more expensive than we were after, but they were quite accommodating, giving us time to look over the menu and decide what we'd like to put in a set meal. After outlining what we wanted the manager gave us a per-head figure that was higher than had we walked in off the street and ordered from the menu. Refusing to believe this he stuck stubbornly to his price, apparently unable to see the advantage of doing good business with people who were likely to turn up with a party of 25 during the off season. Again, he didn't seem at all interested in having the children there. Frustrated we left him and went next door to Fewa Paradise, who with limited English didn't really start negotiations, and we felt like we weren't really getting anywhere. Ditching Milan, who despite his Nepali was proving more of a hindrance than a help, we walked down towards the other end of Lakeside to a restaurant called Once Upon A Time... We had partly come up with the restaurant idea earlier in the week while standing outside of this restaurant looking at the menu. The three of us went inside and spoke to the head waiter who told us that absolutely, a party of 25 could be accommodated, and would we like this whole upstairs space? The manager was unfortunately out, but a quick phone call brought him back to speak to us, and he was very enthusiastic. We could get 10%252525 off the already well-priced menu, could have a whole area to ourselves, decorate it how we liked, and have access to the music system so the children could dance and have a good time. Happy, we sat down for some market research, sharing a pizza while deciding what to offer the kids from the menu. We quickly went and printed out an invitation/small menu for the children before popping back to our room. We'd heard from the kids the previous evening and that morning that apparently we were indeed confirmed for dinner at 6 o'clock at their teacher's house. Not particularly fussed about this we returned to the children's home at five, just as the weather was coming in. Thunder had been rolling around the valley for some time, but then came the rain. Harder and harder it got, until our 6pm arrival time was missed and we were still gazing out of the windows wondering what to do. We passed the time by playing pairs with Sima, who at the grand age of 4 drew with Jenna (once Jenna had prevented her the chance of picking up the final pair) and gave Dave a run for his money. Just after 6.30 the rain relaxed enough for us to consider departing along with Harimaya and Lalita, who for some reason knew exactly where their teacher lived. A 20 minute walk later and we arrived at the house just as the rain began again, coming down forcefully in the fading light. The girls were invited in by Dilli Ram's wife, who was a teacher but didn't speak any English, and we also met his son Pratam, who was nine and spoke some. As the family home is in a village a couple of hours away, this was just a rented room with en suite and a small kitchen, and we were given a seat on one of the beds to wait for Dilli Ram to return. He did before too long and we spoke about school life, his life etc while being served lychees. As is the Nepali custom, we were served our meals first while Dilli Ram sat by and watched. The girls lucked out as well, scoring a meal that included a couple of different curries and even some fish caught in the lake. Our meal finished we began to worry about the weather, which was becoming more and more fierce, forks of lightning lighting up the sky every few seconds, and the rain making quite a noise. As conversation became a little more stunted, we realised that walking home in the dark and with the weather as it was, especially with the girls, was not an option. Therefore Dilli Ram mustered up a taxi number, who would be with us within half an hour. The half hour came and went, the family got hungry, and made their excuses so they could go and have their meal in the other room. Another half hour came and went, with the weather still not letting up. Staying there was ridiculously seeming like an option. During this time the girls received a phone call from Milan. In response to our questions at the beginning of the evening to clarify that Milan knew where they were etc, they had told us everything was absolutely fine. The phone call made them very quiet however and we began to suspect this was not the case. Getting restless Dave put on his coat, borrowed an umbrella and a torch and made his way across the drive to the front gate. The driveway was underwater in some places up to and above the ankles, and between the gate and the road a river was running furiously down the hill. Returning back, there didn't seem much hope, but soon the taxi arrived with its lights on outside. We rustled up the girls, said our thank yous, and, with Jenna having to remove her shoes and roll up her trousers, made our way through the water, through the river and into the taxi. The thunder and lightning continued all around us, and the roads were like an assault course our driver had to navigate. Eventually though we dropped the girls back, and got dropped off ourselves, making our way back in to dry ourselves off and cower under the covers. As long as it wasn't raining in the morning, our grand plans would still be intact. We woke up, predictably, to rain. Swimming was off for the second week in a row, and with their exams imminent, we weren't going to have another chance to take the children. A bit disappointed we moseyed on round for dal bhat, but shortly after that Milan put a Nepali movie on, making us redundant. We found out that the previous evening Milan had indeed given Harimaya and Lalita a bollocking over the phone and when they got back for not telling him where they were, something we weren't particularly surprised at. After a few hours back at the room we returned to the home to set into motion our plan for the evening. The weather was easing off - a pain considering we'd cancelled swimming but good for our restaurant plan. Our plan was to call all of them into a News Class at 3 o'clock, and we teased them by telling them it was a special one that would last at least two hours. Looking a bit sulky they traipsed in and Dave set them off by reading a review of a local restaurant called Once Upon A Time... It went like this: Once upon a time... "One of the best restaurants in the whole of the city of Pokhara is 'Once Upon A Time...' and it is located in the Lakeside district close to Camping Chowk. The restaurant is known for offering an excellent selection of well-cooked food, and has a great atmosphere in which customers can enjoy their meals. Some of the highlights on the menu include the pizzas, which are made fresh to order in the kitchen, the selection of western burgers, which are served with coleslaw salad and chips, and the chow mein, served either with vegetables or chicken. They also serve some of the best ice cream in Pokhara. On Saturday 22nd of July, the restaurant is opening its doors to eighteen lucky children and seven adults from a nearby children's home. They will be treated to a three-course meal in the restaurant with music, and maybe even some dancing. Some of the children have never been to a restaurant before, so Once Upon A Time... are looking forward to treating them to a lovely evening. The children all live at AAN Children's home in Malapatan, and are being taken to the restaurant by their volunteers." For the first two paragraphs they looked bored and inattentive as usual, but then as Harimaya began to read the third paragraph she began to get more and more excited, and Santoshi, reading over her shoulder started to shake and smile, and one by one it dawned on the children what was going on. There were a few genuine tears in there (including #jennatears) that was very touching, possibly because they realised they weren't being subjected to a two-hour news class. It was amazing just to see the looks on their faces. Jenna, pulling herself together, handed out their invitations with their menu choices on. There were several choices of 'ice cream' and we had to explain to the children that yes, they would be getting ice cream, and what would they like before that? Yougesh was on particularly fine form, struggling to make a decision: Yougesh: Chicken pizza and chicken burger Dave: Which? Y: Ok. D: No, come back, pizza or burger? Y: Chicken D: Pizza or burger? Y: Ok D: No, Yougesh, come here, you can only have one. Which one? Pizza or burger? Y: Chicken pizza D: Are you sure? Y: Ok D: Yes? Chicken pizza? Y: Ok He returned five minutes later and changed his order to a chicken burger. It wasn't a huge surprise; from a menu choice of seven, we had 17 requests for chicken burgers, and three for pizza, plus three for pizza from Milan, Sita and Tika. What was important, however, was that they had each made the choice themselves. Leaving them with a couple of bottles of nail varnish which they quickly got stuck into, we traipsed down to the restaurant where we found the area all set up ready. The staff helped us blow up balloons and we felt assured that we had made the right choice. We then tried to find a bar in town to watch the second half of the first Lions Test, but it appears Nepal isn't really into rugby, even when it's the Lions. Instead we found our way into Madhushala for a happy hour beer and wine and followed the game on the live text. It wasn't the same but at least the Lions won, even only just. We wandered back up and quickly got changed, returning to the home at 6.30, the agreed time. There was nobody there. The whole place was locked up, there was not a sign of a child anywhere. At first we thought it might be a practical joke, but it soon dawned that no, they had all left. A bit confused (and a bit upset as we had wanted to walk down with them and get excited with them) we walked back down to Lakeside to find some of the children in the restaurant and some wandering up having been for a walk around the area. Still confused we walked up the area and welcomed the children in regardless, and sat them all down on the long table. Forgetting that they had all left without us, the next few hours were brilliant. The waiters were friendly, the music was turned up to 11 (the restaurant was of a size that other customers could be put downstairs on the other side of the courtyard) and once they had settled, the kids buzzed with excitement. Hands were put up for coke, fanta or sprite (sprite being the main choice there, although we did get an extra one as Sima put her hand up twice), and plates of momos and pakoras were brought out as starters. Once these had been cleared, the favourite songs were pumped out, and by-now-familiar combinations were performed while everybody clapped. Once these were done a full-on disco ensued, with every child and teenager (except Yougesh) eager to dance until they were too hot. Once everybody was knackered, the chicken burgers and pizzas were brought out and food was swapped, stolen or passed under tables. Ice Cream orders were taken with difficulty (another choice) and served in cones due to a lack of bowls. This was fine, and they proceeded to do what kids do, biting off to bottom of the cone and letting it drip out. Tika did the same. When it was time to leave they all got a balloon, we said thank you to the team, and we made our way downstairs. Milan began doing shuttle runs up the hill on his motorbike, smallest first, as we walked up with a dwindling number of older children. We had nearly reached the home when Milan came back for the last run, and quickly turned around, diving into Bullet Basecamp for a much needed drink. We, much like the kids, were happy but exhausted. A note on... The Nepalese Education System Education in Nepal has crept into our blog several times over the last couple of months, whether that was us looking at Samyog's homework in Arubote, talking to Dipendra or Deepika in Kathmandu, or, more prominently, while we've been working at the children's home. Given that this week we have been to school and for dinner at a teacher's house, it seems like a good time to write a few words on it. English is held in high regard in Nepal, as is education, and the top schools all teach the majority of their classes in English, from Kindergarten upwards. The number one biggest absolutely huge horribly unforgivable problem is that kids from a young age are being taught in English, are reading text books written in English, are having their work marked in English...by people who can't read, write or speak adequate English. I feel confident in suggesting that if the teachers of the schools in Nepal (and I'm talking the good, fee-paying, English speaking schools rather than the government schools) were to take an English Language GCSE tomorrow, less than 10% would pass with a 'C' or above. The number of grammatical errors that we have corrected in school books over the last few weeks is worrying. Sentences such as 'Mother and Father is my parents' are being rote learned by children as young as six, and copied out any number of times. We have also learnt anecdotally from other volunteers that within the classroom the English being spoken between teacher and student is barely recognisable to an English speaker, and those that are volunteering as assistants are struggling to comprehend what it is the children are being asked to do. Dilli Ram, our host on Friday night, spoke acceptable English, but he still didn't understand several of our questions, and for a teacher teaching in English, that is just frightening. Which brings us on to the second point: the kids just don't understand. They are rote learning answers from an early age that they are able to recite word for word before forgetting the next day. Test the girls on what they've written and they'll give you a word-for-word answer out of their books. Ask a question out of order and they look confused and annoyed. Tulsa has been copying sentences for the past few weeks such as 'A shopkeeper sells goods', or, 'A cobbler mends shoes'. They are written beautifully and she can recite them perfectly...but she has no idea what a cobbler or a shopkeeper is or does. As long as the handwriting is neat and there are no spelling mistakes, all is well. The day we leave, every child in the school from Nursery to Grade 10 will start a week of exams testing their knowledge of what they have learnt in the five main subjects - English, Nepali, Maths, Science and Social Studies. All they are doing at the moment is cramming answers, and they understand less and less. At school I mentioned that most of the classrooms were bare and featureless, hardly inspiring for learning. No teaching aids are used. It is incredibly frustrating watching the children learn in such a painful way; there are so many barriers to their learning that it's a wonder they learn anything at all. A lot of the older ones have been taught in English for seven or eight years, yet are unable to carry off a conversation in English. Most poignantly, perhaps, the school's staff room had posters up including the school's mission statement written by the chairman. There were three separate grammatical errors.