Bethel Matriculation School

Today I met a “very dynamic woman.” At least, these were the words used, on several occasions, to describe her before we actually met. After meeting one another, I found the words to be quite fitting, indeed. Her name was Mrs. Nganaraj and she is the principal of the Bethel Matriculation School.

Now, a quick paragraph for those of you (like myself) who are not fluent in Indianized Britishisms (and, yes I did just make up that word), a “Matriculation School” is something like a boarding or preparatory school where the students are brought up in a highly regimented manner and usually live together on or near the school’s campus. So, it is something like college in the states (but minus the regimented lifestyle, of course).

My day began at 9:15 sharp in the office of Mrs. Gnanaraj. She was a robust but elegant women, beaming with self-assurance--but in a positive way. She was the kind of woman who, when you stand in her presence, your posture becomes a bit straighter, and you are all of a sudden aware of things like whether or not your shoelaces are straight and if the line of the buttons on your shirt is askew from the buckle of your belt and the zipper on your pants. She wore an bright and regal silk sari with a grand-patterned sash that whipped in the wind as she walked. I have to admit that I had equal levels of fear and respect for this women--she was good at what she did.

Anyway, after a short introduction we started out across the dusty schoolyard into the ranks of schoolchildren, at attention, standing shoulder to shoulder, about 2 feet apart. We crossed into the dead center of three troops, all facing one another. As the principal proceeded forward, I began to hold back--slightly intimidated by the phalanx of children that I saw before me. Seeing that I was falling behind, the principal gave a brief wave of her hand and uttered a quick, “Come, come!” So, I sheepishly proceeding forward into the ranks. I stood before them, just a few feet behind their headmaster. She called the children to order, and the ranks suddenly became a bit stiffer. Following her call, she maintained a piercing silence, which lingered in the air as a dagger, threatening any deviants who might dare to fall out of line or break the well-honored stillness.

She gave a short introduction of who I was and what I would be doing there. She demanded that the children “show him how we behave around here,” and I believe that both the children, as well as myself, knew good and well that this was a loaded statement. Following my introduction, the day began with hymns sung in Tamil, and a warm singing of happy birthday to one of the girls who wore a long-patterned red dress instead of a uniform as the others were wearing. The principal placed her hand on the shoulder of the girl and lead the crowd in singing “happy birthday” followed by additional verses of “God bless you, dear child” and “long life to you, dear one.” After the sweetness of that moment, the principal gave another quick wave of her hand accompanied with a firm, “get back in line,” and the birthday girl scurried away.

Apart from learning a bit about Matriculation Schools and the Indian/British school system. I got to see the greater function of the school in a context such as this. This school is the nurturing ground for the children living in the Children’s home, and the school of the babies and toddlers from the orphanage. The school gives strong christian (although, strict) upbringing and nurture. Behind the firm hand and high expectation are loving hearts that are working to create well rounded, with a firm understanding of who they are as christians.