Top of the class

AS THE sun rises, the children of the Kalimpong Hill region in the Himalayas put on their uniforms, pack their bags and make their way to school.

For some of them, this means a two-hour trek along narrow footpaths through mountain terrain, but it's a journey they don't mind making. Their schoolrooms may look humble by Western standards, but the 100 pupils at St Mary's see education as a road from poverty to opportunity.

In this remote setting, 7,500ft above sea level, the last person you might expect to find is a retired Scots primary school teacher. But for 65-year-old Pauline MacInnes, visits to the village of Nok Dara, in West Bengal, have become a regular occurrence. In 1999, when her daughter was working as a volunteer teacher in Nepal, MacInnes decided to fly out and lend a hand during the summer holidays. She enjoyed it so much that in 2004 she decided to officially volunteer her services through an organisation called MondoChallenge. Unfortunately, her trip coincided with political unrest in Nepal, and it looked as if she would be confined to the capital city, Kathmandu, for her three-month stay. But, keen to venture into the hills, MacInnes took up the option of going to a village called Baranumber, in West Bengal, instead. Although this region is officially part of India (a gift from the British when they left), the area borders Nepal and the people living here are Nepalese.

"I don't like ordinary holidays," says MacInnes. "So I work in the classrooms teaching English. They need that, because there are no examination systems or textbooks in Nepali. The children do their work in English, and they also study Hindi and the West Bengali dialect."

While teaching at Baranumber, MacInnes met Father Felix D'Sousa, director of several schools in the nearby Gitdubling valley. He explained that remote schools receive little help, and extended an invitation for her to visit them should she decide to return. Her resulting visit to St Mary's in 2006 cemented MacInnes's desire to help the local children. "It's a very isolated area, and the teachers at the school are not getting paid," she says.

"They ask for a fee from the children, and those that can give money do, but it's not enough. The teachers are working without pay because they are so keen for the children to get an education. It's the only thing they can see as a way forward for the villages."

The personal stories of the children she meets shows what a difference the schools have made to their quality of life and future prospects. She describes one girl, Anita, who was brought to school when she was seven. Anita's father had walked out on the family, leaving the girl's mother struggling to cope. "Anita was very ill, so her mother left her at the school and asked them to attend to her, whether she lived or died, as she could not afford to keep her," MacInnes explains. Three years on, Anita has severe learning difficulties, but she has responded well to the care and support of the teachers and pupils, and MacInnes describes her as "happy and contented – she loves to help in the kitchen and the garden".

On her most recent visit to the area, MacInnes was introduced to 11-year-old Samjuta. She had been rescued from the streets twice before but had run away from the school she had been sent to. "Samjuta was being abused by men, but was being given presents which made her happy," MacInnes explains. "Her mother, a stone breaker, agreed to her being taken to school – children are never brought their without their parents' permission. It can be difficult for the street children to adjust to life at the school and sometimes they steal little things or run away. But the other pupils are very patient and welcoming. It took Samjuta several weeks to settle down but by the time I left, she had already made new friends."

MacInnes says that central government has taken no interest in the area because the people living here earn very little and don't pay taxes. "The infrastructure is very poor. Most of the villages have no vehicle access, and although the main market village of Gitdub-ling has electricity, most of the others don't. There is no industry of any kind up here."

To feed themselves and their families, the villagers farm small terraces of land, producing crops such as rice, potatoes, maize and vegetables. "Each village has two oxen and a wooden plough, and to pay for the use of that they swap excess produce or skills – it's a barter system," explains MacInnes.

So how did she adapt to life in the mountains? "It took a lot of adjustment initially," she admits. "The diet is very mundane. It's chapati or porridge in the morning, then dhal bat, which is rice with watery lentils, for lunch. And in the evening, it's dhal bat again. You also get a wee bit of whatever vegetable is in season at that time." Then there's the sleeping pattern – as it's pitch dark by six o'clock in the evening, and there's no electricity, most people are in bed by 8pm at the latest.

On her first visit to St Mary's, MacInnes slept in a classroom with a concrete floor, cement walls and a door that didn't shut properly. "I got used to it, but the people don't respect privacy here," she says, "purely because they don't have any privacy. They don't shut doors in their houses or have glass in their windows; they have one room they live in. I taught the children that I'd really rather they knocked if they wanted to come into my room."

Then there's what could be described as an innocent lack of tact. The average lifespan in Nepal is 47, so at the age of 65 and with white hair, MacInnes found herself the subject of much speculation. "The first thing the children say is, 'What age, what age?' It takes a bit of getting used to and realising not to be offended; you're just different to them."

As well as St Mary's, MacInnes also taught at a larger school, St Joseph's, in the main village, Gitdubling. It educates children up to the age of 15 and has almost 400 pupils, many of whom stay in on-site hostel accommodation. Some of the children have been rescued from the streets or from factories. Pupils at both schools are very involved in household tasks such as collecting firewood and water, and helping with meal preparation. As well as literacy and numeracy, they are taught about agriculture and forestry. "Their life is hard and repetitive, but I never hear them complain," says MacInnes. "And they really make the most of any special occasion – there's no religious discrimination and everyone celebrates the festivals of the different faiths."

After discussions with both schools, it was decided that the best way for MacInnes to help in terms of fundraising would be to raise money to pay the teachers' wages, which are £25 a month. MacInnes realised that she needed a formal framework for her fundraising, and so the Himalayan Children Education Trust was set up.

After MacInnes gave a talk at the West Pilton Children and Family Centre in Edinburgh, nursery officer Christine Povey decided to approach her employers about going out to India as a volunteer. "The idea was to go out and form links with the schools so that we could do a bit of promotion work for them in this country," she says.

With the full support of the local authority, Povey went to West Bengal with MacInnes earlier this year. She was based at St Joseph's and took some of the curriculum material she uses in Edinburgh to give the teachers there an idea of the teaching methods used in Scotland. "The children are quick at picking up songs, and they are very receptive to being involved in things," she says. She also found that the older children were very focused on getting qualifications. Jobs in social work, teaching, engineering and nursing are popular career choices.

Since returning home, Povey has established an India group at the West Pilton Family Centre, with the aim of having at least one fundraising event a year to provide the schools with specific items they need – such as bookcases or desks. "If you look at the opportunities we have in Scotland, we want to pass that on to other areas of the world where the resources aren't as good but the demand for education is huge," she says.

As for MacInnes, she is hoping to return to the Himalayas next year for a four-month stay. "My plan is to travel round the schools to see what is going on and how they're all managing," she says. "There was so much progress on my recent visit and they are very hopeful of being self-supporting within about five years."

The teacher certainly shows no signs of wanting to enjoy a quiet retirement. "It's so fulfilling to go out there," she says. "It changes your whole outlook on life."

For further information about the Himalayan Children Education Trust, visit http://pauline-westbengal.blogspot.com or e-mail [e-mail]