Puspa Gautam

English 2010
Professor: Ron
How I learned English?
During those years of my early education, a student had to have at least three full years of
schooling to be promoted on condition to first grade. Whether at normal or subnormal conditions
I entered in that world, I had no judgmental skills but somehow I made my educational journey
a lifelong process. Actually, I was not admitted officially in that school. No one ever registered
me for the school. Every day I followed my maternal uncles and aunts to the school; while they
enter the school compound I used to hide behind the fences and peep through the narrow slits of
that bamboo fencing surrounding the school compound. Imposing myself out of school fence, I
could only imagine as what would be inside those mighty rooms or how honored would I be if I
were given at least a chance to enter that place. May be I lacked the gut to ask anyone. When the
authorities later discovered my frequent presence, they permitted me to sit in a class, that I did
not know which grade. My happiness or excitement reached no limit as if I conquered the
universe in that fascinating homogenous biome. Thus I entered the threshold of modern
education, challenging different hurdles, trying to harness it, appreciating its wholesomeness and
may be playing my part. I need to be content on whatever the fate had ascribed to me during
heavenly blessing.
Whether that was a mindful luxury or economic scarcity, the mode of livelihood was a bare
subsistence. Yet, interestingly, the days spent on that facility were vibrant, every moment spent
was worth mentioning, lively and energetic. Going to school, I must say without exaggeration,
some students of distant villages had to commute more than four hours each day. That was the
only school in the whole subdivision consisting of five blocks of isolated part of the
country(Salami).
Salami falls in heavy monsoon region but we hardly could afford an umbrella to protect from
heavy rain. Umbrella was a luxury stuff to us and it was neither handy nor convenient especially
for those muddy and bushy pathways that were drenched with raindrops. The cheapest and
abundant I could find to cover myself was the banana leaves and there was nothing to be
ashamed of using the leaves. Leaves had its own limitation as I couldnt save for further use.
That was the way of life. And a few students could afford the plastic sheets but with age specific,
the younger students lacked the proper maintenance of wet sheets. The students used to damage
the books by putting the wet plastic alongside in their packs. During long monsoon season, the
gullies, brooks, creeks and streams like Panakhola(river name), Goshikhola(river name),

Bitleungkhola(river name), and others would swell and flood with tremendous downstream. I
had to risk my life and take the challenge to cross those monsoon-fed water bodies. There would
be no elders to assist the crossing. We could not perceive how would be the life of having bridges
or other temporary suspensions that would facilitate crossing. I walked some leech infested
paths, particularly in wet days. I had encountered many treacherous snakes and some wild
predators on gloomy days. The paths through highland or sloppy hills were very slippery and I
faced all such natural hazards with bare feet.
Going by the standard of English I learned, it was all Indian English, probably a reminiscence of
British colonial era. And, the manpower came from India at all level of education in Bhutanese
schools. I was taught by Mr. KG Nair, a man who revolutionized education in Salami. He was
our English as well as the school head teacher. For most of us, it was he who had hold our tiny
tentacles and smeared the alphabets on the slate. But my real English began when I was at grade
one. My teachers focused on all aspects of the language: grammar, vocabulary, oral and written
English. The first few years were really disastrous to me! I had to learn words and grammar
rules, which didn't seem to have much sense for me at that time. I completely didn't feel the need
to learn English.
The time didnt wait and I thought that very next day came too quickly. I prayed or wished for
some kind of illness to the teacher but that didnt happen. The teacher was there. The English
period came, the teacher entered our classroom. All the students were nervous. The teacher asked
us whether we read the story or not. He too said that whether we tried reading or not. We told
him that we tried our best but it was too tough for me. He encouraged us and promised us that he
would help us wherever we would be struck. After hearing such kind words, I was little bit
relieved from the stress. He ordered to start the reading from the last bench at the left corner. So
the first person to read on that day was me. I stood up, hold my book and kept standing. I didnt
utter a single word for five minutes and Mr. Nair (teacher) told me to read and say at least a
word. I couldnt read or pronounce a word. I got punished by the strike on my hand. Teacher told
me to practice and come tomorrow.
As a time rule, which never waits for anyone, our next day school also began. I was at the
English period. The teacher entered to our classroom, looked around and leaned by taking the
support of my desk. Then he asked for me to stand and read the story. Like the previous day I
stood up and hold my book. I began spelling the first word of the story. I spelled the letters o, n,
c, e aloud but pronounced it tortoise. May be I thought that spelling once was pronounced as
tortoise. The whole class laughed. I turned pale and bit embarrassed also. The teacher told to
stop laughing and respect him. I couldnt read further. I kept standing. Then the teacher asked me
to spell once and say once. I did it. I kept on spelling other words and the teacher gave the
pronunciation and I also repeated the words pronunciation. I finished the first sentence. The
teacher asked me to take my seat but told me that I must have to practice reading. He was asked
to be able to read the first sentence without spelling on the next day. I didnt know how I would

do this reading practice and be fluent on the next day. In the next day teacher asked me to do this
reading again. I repeated exactly in same manner as I did on the previous day: I spelled o,n,c,e
and pronounced as tortoise. The teacher got furious which he expressed clearly by the body
language but he didnt utter a word. He left the class and went to his office. Now he came
determined: a cane in his hand. The teacher asked me to show my right palm and struck me three
times quite severely. While beating, he was cursing me and kept emptying his dissatisfaction. He
too said that only the pain of cane would make me competent to read. Whether the fear of
punishment would ever make a person perform better in academics or some improved instruction
method would support better, I can leave the discussion open. Once he finished striking my right
palm he demanded, Now show me your left fist and display your palm. He beat me quite
hardly once on the left hand with that strike. I broke down and began crying loudly. The loud cry
forced the teacher to stop beating me further. Then in a very commanding and threatening voice
the teacher told me that if I could not read the first sentence on the next day, the punishment
would be doubled. He also said that you already know the taste of cane, and the choice would be
his. I kept on weeping for rest of the period while other students were asked to continue reading.
I learned our lessons out of fear of getting similar punishment. There was no extra scaffolding of
any level that would facilitate learning. We didnt see extra books or valuable sources like
library. Neither students practiced speaking English outside of classroom premises nor heard
peoples interaction in English medium. There was no formal interaction with any native speaker.
It was really roller- coaster moment in my life. I started reading more than half of the night every
night. I was little blessed as I had material uncles and aunts who would render me extra support
during the need. But they were in distance from my house, and hard to get them.
At some point I read my first whole book in English and I understood it. That moment was a
breakthrough in my life. I knew that I had broken a barrier, gotten into a new world. I found that
reading is much more exciting in English. When I read in English, I have not only the pleasure of
reading, but also the pleasure of using English and the pleasure of learning English. I was
thinking how to speak in English with the teachers. I have to speak in my native language in my
house and with entire neighborhoods because nobody speaks English except few elders who
were on higher grade. I got scared how to build sentences, and grammar? Reading the story was
a real challenge to me. For sure, I did not know how to pronounce most of the words without
someones guidance. I was not familiar on how the letters would combine to give the specific
sound and practice the words pronunciation. I lacked the phonological serenity or other acquired
knowledge of language regulations. There were two important aspects: the embarrassment of
incompetency on one side and certainty of corporal punishment from the educator on the other.
Even though I was quite amateur in decision making, many of the students started talking of not
coming to the class on the following day so that we could avoid that uncomfortable class
situation. We swore many inappropriate things, mostly of hopelessness but worthy of paying
attention. The encouragements would be a healthier approach but sometimes the things askew
from the normal curve. I learned every new English word that I met. With each new word I felt
closer to my goal. With each word I felt that my reading ability was increasing. Each word added

to my sense of power. This was how I crossed the different phases of primary schoolings and
learned English.