Geetanjali Krishna: Playing around with studies

PEOPLE LIKE THEM

Every morning on the beach in Goa, I'd see teenage boys playing football, wearing jerseys emblazoned with the names of their favourite soccer heroes.

They'd hang around long after their game had finished, as if they were in no hurry to get anyplace else. One morning, when I passed the ball back to them after the umpteenth time that it had rolled to me, I asked one of them why they weren't in school. "Are you from the church?" he asked. I shook my head. "From some NGO or school?" he persisted.

I shook my head again. Finally convinced I had no agenda in asking him what I'd thought was a fairly innocuous question, he said, "we're here because we've all flunked in our exams!"

It seemed to me that getting to play football on the beach was an incentive rather than punishment for failing. Curious to find out more, I waited for the game to finish, and went up for a chat. They were all sons of local fishermen, said they.

"I found studies in class seven very difficult," said Joseph, "and knew well before the examinations that the outcome would be bad!" Since his parents were illiterate, he was unable to get any help outside school. The boys said they found it tough going after class five as the medium of instruction in school changed from Marathi to English. Since many of them were first generation school goers, they could not get any help outside school and were unable to cope with the change.

"Reaching class six was easy," piped in Thomas. The group laughed jeeringly and one of them added, "that's because there are no examinations till class five!" But once they failed their examinations, none of their parents wanted them to waste another year trying to pass. "Instead, they send us to the beach to earn some money.

The best way to get the attention of tourists, often, is football. They play with us, get friendly, and give us odd jobs like fetching drinks, or acting as guides," said Thomas, "the tips during peak season are pretty good!"

Did they feel they were losing out on opportunities by not attending school, I asked? The boys didn't think so. "Most boys in our age group drop out after class seven or eight, for they realise that going to school doesn't really guarantee them good jobs," said Joseph.

"You see, today in Goa, there are only a few careers worth opting for, and none require a class ten certificate!" he said, adding, "traditional work "" farming, fishing and carpentry "" don't require a school education either, but they won't get us very far, would they?" Most of the group felt that getting a driving licence (and someday, a taxi of their own) would take them further away from poverty than an education would. Another option local boys often dreamt of, was shipping. "Ten months on a ship, and you can earn enough to build your own home in the village!" said Thomas. But it seems that in rural Goa, the only way to get a shipping job is by hiring agents "" "most of them charge between Rs 2 lakh and Rs 3 lakh just to put us in touch with the right shipping companies," he said.

Just then, some foreigners came our way. The boys casually began kicking the ball around, and invited them to join in. "We'd love to!" said one of them, "you boys are lucky to be able to play here everyday!" Thomas caught my eye and grinned, going off for yet another game on the beach.