Argh! The Internet is So Slow: A Lesson in Patience

        Let me be the first to say that patience does not come naturally to me. However, in order to work in education, patience is extremely important. I have spent years trying to cultivate this habit. Anyone who has spent any time with children under the age of 8 or over the age of 12 (or between the ages of 9 to 11, for that matter) can understand how necessary it is.

        Well, if you are also interested in becoming a more tolerant, self-restrained person, I have the place for you! I had always thought that a pre-K classroom was the best place to develop patience, but I was wrong. Rural India is it. You want to, say, buy some bread? Well, walk down the street, smile foolishly, say the Gujarati word for bread in an unintentionally hilarious accent, get pointed to a store, walk to the store, get laughed at for your unintentional hilarity, get pointed to another store, et cetera. Wait, now you need a lightbulb? Some spinach? Toothpaste? Do all of that over again, ad nauseum.

        Given that social enterprise is the hot new development trend, I am thinking of opening some sort of patience-building retreat in Kadod (all proceeds to be evenly split between the Nanubhai Education Foundation and the Providing Sarah Birgé With Chocolate Cookies Organization). People love going to retreats in India! Yoga is passé, patience is in.

        However, the real master class of this new venture will be called, “Using the Internet: An Exercise in Virtual Zen.” Very catchy, right? Basically, the internet here is sloooooow. Like water buffalo slow (if you have never seen one “walking,” they are really really slow). Even getting the internet requires a lot of deep breathing and counting to ten behind clenched teeth. When my disciples are ready for this level of patience-building, we will first take a public rickshaw to Bardoli. Suppressing your growing nervousness as more and more people pile into the rickshaw (my personal record is seventeen; I was sitting on Claire’s lap and holding a baby) is the easy part.

Not the most aerodynamic animal.

        Once you get to Bardoli, you must find the internet store. No, that is not a joke. Every month, we go to the store and put another 1500 rupees of internet on our tiny USB satellite stick. After finding the store in the warren of dusty mini-malls that make up most of Bardoli, you need to wait until the manager goes to get his friend who speaks English. That is, unless the store is closed…because the the manager has gone home for a nap. Then, you need to exchange the same banal pleasantries that you exchanged last month, and take another harrowing rickshaw ride. When you get home, plug in that USB stick and check out all the new internet you bought!

        Unless, of course, it is raining. Or cloudy. Which it usually is for the, oh, four months or so of monsoonal rains. Or if you are sitting in the middle room of the house, or the kitchen, or anywhere except that one spot in the corner in the front room where the internet works. I can’t imagine trying to get online school assignments done like this! Or any school assignments for that matter.

        Of course, we do manage to get our work done, and have time to send emails to friends and family. Nothing, however, teaches patience like staring at a vital, unloaded google doc for twenty-five minutes. As much as I sometimes do get frustrated (and write slightly whiny blog posts), it is a good reminder that access to high-speed internet is a huge luxury, both personally and professionally. I’d like to think that, during my time working in Kadod, I have been able to focus my productivity and yes, become more patient.

(Applications for the Kadod Patience Retreat are open immediately; please make out all checks to the PSBWCC Organization).