Virag: The school of Angels

During the volunteer placement at Prakalpa, one of the first things to do was a handout on an educational complex in a remote part of Keonjhar. We visited the school with Kusum last week. The roads were bumpy, suitable only for a 4 wheeler, but as we went deeper and deeper in the country, even that one was vanishing. Kusum said that they have chosen this spot to be as close to the Juanga villages as possible. Juanga is a small tribe that populates the south of Keonjhar district of Orissa, probably the most disadvantaged in the region.

The pupils in the school are all Juanga girls, receiving primary education in a residential school. They learn how to read, count and write in three languages. You could ask: why do they need this in the mountains? The tribals indians territories' are shrinking, they are poor and they depend more and more on interactions with the outside world. As easily we get lost in their jungles, they can also get lost in our 'civilised' world. Government officials come with complicated forms and procedures to 'help' them; dodgy businessmen come and offer them prosperous work in other states that usually ends in exploitation and misery. The Constitution of India and several rules are established to safeguard them, but they don't know anything about rights. Tribals need to learn about the outer world to be able to protect themselves.

After arrival, Kusum Joseph and I were welcomed by the teachers and we walked into the quiet school building. When we entered the first room, suprisingly we have found about thirty girls of the age 5-6, sitting orderly on the floor, with open books in front of them. Thirty little angels in blue uniforms in complete silence. It was magical, I have never experienced so much innocence before. The second room held another thirty little bit older pupils. The girls looked at us shyly, we must have been a very unusal sight for them. They hardly ever left their villages before. We have sta down and Kusum as a good teacher started to speak to them. Ten minutes later they started to respond to questions and we could see the first shy smiles.

We had to get on with our project of making a couple of hundreds of New Year greeting cards for Prakalpa with their help. After a couple of hours work while the paintings were drying under the sun, the girls went out to play football. Kusum explained that they were asked at the begining of the semester what toys would they like, and instead of dolls they went for a football. Joseph joined in to the bare foot game. That was the first time we saw them relaxed, moving about freely. What is this quietness in them? Is it because the girls are always the last when there is trenching poverty? Or is it a sign of gratefulness for the safety and security of the school that Prakalpa and God gave to them? Girls of their age in rural India would normally be out of education, with the responsibility of looking after their younger siblings and work from dusk till dawn for their daily meal? Could this humbleness be the opposite of the restlessness you see more and more in western kids: a never ending crave for the new and the dangerous and the protest against the adult world? We accept this behaviour as normal of their age, no? Seeing kids at the age of 5-10 being so humble and quiet has deeply touched me and made me wonder.

After sunset we all sat in one room, seventy pair of shy and curious eyes looked out at us from the shelter of their blankets. We listened to their songs in the shady light of the kerozine lamp and I felt God was present. Many call the Juanga primitive and simple. The only words that come to me after that day are innocent and pure. That was my visit to the school of Angels.