Nomoshkar—greetings. (Namaste is Hindi. We are in west Bengal.)

Today was rough. The time change is kicking my ***. We had meetings and presentations most of the afternoon—the middle of the night according to my circadian rhythms. I was nearly falling off my chair through some of the presentations. Everyone said they were struggling—but I felt particularly conspicuous.

The speakers were terrific, though (what I was awake for!). Niladri Chatterjee, an English professor from Kalyani University and Fulbright alum addressed us first with a photo essay about his beloved home of Kolkata. He described the history, showed us highlights—the New Market, College Street (the book district—calling to several of us English teachers) the Writer’s Building (historically akin to the Counting House in Salem, now a government building), and where to go for great photos of the city (The Blue and Gray restaurant on Lindsay Street.) We heard about the secondary system in India, roles and expectations as we teach in the schools, some medical do’s and don’ts, and had a fun session learning some basic Bangla.(All right = Thik ache)

Then the long-awaited moment—we had dinner with representatives from our schools, which meant most of us met the teachers we would be working with. Subha was everything I expected—she said she recognized me from behind. She is beautiful, smart, political, and outgoing. The school, St. John’s Diocesan School for Girls has a population of about 400. Subha teaches classes of 60, but has one of 90. Yes—90! That’s an entire grade level at Gilmour Academy where I teach. She says that the girls will have no difficulty understanding me, but I might expect a little difficulty understanding them. She is allowing for a great deal of flexibility—giving me classes like creative writing, essay writing, and spoken English. I think she is a true-blue, died-in-the–wool language teacher and so knows that getting to know each other is a critical aspect of the endeavor for any language teacher, and this will take some time. Forty minute classes that meet once per week with 60 + girls. Step one—nametags. Gotta start somewhere.

I went back to the hotel; crashed for the early evening; needless to say I was up before 4.