Week 2 of Teaching

Last weekend, I went to my first disco in Tanzania. All I can really say is that it was definitely not like an American club. It was this huge courtyard attached to what looked like a big storeroom. It was across from a creepy looking building that reminded me of a haunted house. Instead of everyone being smashed together, they were spread really far apart and everyone was basically dancing alone. There was a group of dancers on a stage doing kind of a line dance. The music was pretty bad. And me and the other female PCV were constantly getting followed and danced on by these two girls. I don’t really think I need to go to another club in Tanzania.

Anyway, my excitement the next day consisted of me dropping my phone under the seat as I was trying to get off the bus. Everyone was staring at me and trying to hurry me off the bus, but once I made it clear I wasn’t leaving before I got my phone, it magically appeared. After returning to Ndanda I went to the market and a pikipiki driver that I’d met before thought it was necessary to hold me hand and carry my bags for me. I had literally been in the market for about 30 seconds before I got a phone call from Gaudence (the Makonde carver) asking where I was. I was thinking, “Hmmm, I’m pretty sure you know where I am since you probably just saw me! I kind of stand out.”

After waiting for only 2 hours this time, my Mkuu came to get me. Oh, but first we had to go to the hospital to visit a villager. She had a big container full of petroleum and forgot about it and placed something flammable on top. Her face, arm and ankle were pretty badly burned. I actually am glad I got to see a hospital at night. It was about 3 times as busy at night that during the day. I think we arrived around the time that most families were bringing food to the patients. There were hot pots everywhere and people being spoon-fed. It basically was just a room with beds placed next to each other. There were a few people connected to IV’s, but otherwise there was not much medical equipment present. The woman with the burns had a table next to her bed with q-tips and Vaseline. That’s it. And she was pretty badly burned.

School went a lot smoother this week as far as feeling comfortable teaching. My Form 1 class is a lot better mannered than my Form 2 class. They also seem to understand more. There are 2 boys in my Form 2 class who sit at the front of class and are pretty much the only ones that will answer questions. It is sad, but they are probably the only ones who really want to be there learning. In my Form 1 class, I had 3 students write paragraphs with nearly perfect grammar. Two of them I had never even noticed before in class. The Form 1 students want to participate more and don’t care as much if they make a mistake trying. There are still about half of them who seem to shrink into their seats if I look at them and refuse to say anything. I just finished up the topic of “Routine Activities” with my Form 1. I created 10 sets of questions and answers, then cut them up into 1-3 word chunks. They had to rearrange the pieces to form the sentences. They loved it! They are never really given the opportunity to work with others or talk in class. On the other hand, I tried to do a similar game with NECTA problems for Form 2. On the NECTA there is a weird section that says “Join using:…too….to” and “Begin using: Although…” I guess they had never seen those types of questions before so it was just a disaster. Yesterday I started poetry with them and that was a disaster also. There is a poetry section on the NECTA with maybe only 3-4 basic questions about the poem. However, these kids can’t even understand most regular sentences in English, let alone the foreign idea of poetry. One of the questions I asked was what title they would give to the poem. I told them it could be ANY word they wanted. Seems simple enough, right? I started going around the room asking. I only got the 2 boys’ answers.

I had a meeting with my Mkuu to discuss my plans for the next 2 years. I want to open the library, start an English club, lead the FEMA club (life skills), and help create a new timetable that might actually be followed. He seemed like “ok, do it” but had no real guidance or input. I had seen about 20 boxes of books in his office and a library that is padlocked every day. Here was our conversation:

Me: “I noticed you have boxes of books in your office. What are the books for?”

Him: “Boxes?”

Me: “Yes.”

Him: “Boxes?”

Me: “Of books…”

Him: “What?”

Me: “Books. Vitabu. You have a lot of books in your office.”

Him: “Ohhh, books! Yes, from Read International.”

Me: “Can we move the books to the library?”

Him: “Um..”

Me: “When is the library open?”

Him: “I think the library hasn’t opened yet.”

Me: “Ok, well we can put the books in there and open it!”

Him: “Well, the students don’t use the library.”

Me: “We will see when it opens.”

Him: “Ok, you can sit in there. We will teach you how to record the borrowing of books.”

So I have started my library project. The library was swept on Wednesday and then I spent about 3 hours on Thursday unpacking boxes of books with dead bugs in the pages. There are still all the books in the library that I haven’t sorted yet, but there are probably at least 1,000 books total. Most of them are for Form 3 & 4 math and science. There are no teachers for those subjects in those forms so I don’t see why we can’t just give them to each student to study from or try to read on their own. Basically all that school is in Tanzania is the teacher writing a textbook word for word on the blackboard and the students copying that into their notebooks. And they are soooo slow. If you underline something on the board, they need a ruler to underline it in their notebook. I want to teach them how to write faster! I really don’t think they would be capable of taking notes (even in Swahili) if they weren’t written on the blackboard. So, if all the students had books, it would save a ton of time in class and maybe the content would actually be explained to them!

I’ve been having some problems with a Form 2 student that seems mentally instable. She came over and introduced herself to me on Monday and asked me to write her name down. I was assuming she wanted a nametag. The next day she sat with me for an hour in the staff room while I was grading quizzes. She started writing 2 pages of ramblings in Swahili/English about her family and what she does every day. She told me she goes home every day and takes medicine for her headache…then asked if I had medicine for her. She also wrote that she wanted to live with me until December. We started talking about food and then she said she would help me cook. I said I could cook. Anyway, I went home and then my water boy came over so I let him in, thus leaving the gate open. As he was finishing pouring the water, this girl, Sabina, just walked into my kitchen! I just said a few greetings and then when Shadrock went to leave I made eye contact with him saying ‘help me!’. We convinced her that she should go back to school…after she asked me for money and biscuits and to stay to cook. Later that day I went next door to get hot charcoals and was gone for less than 5 minutes. I came back and she was in my courtyard with a bucket of cashews dumped out that she was “preparing for me”. I got irritated and told her to leave, but was raising my voice and gesturing for the door. She just smiled at me like we were best friends. Thankfully the boys followed me back and they once again explained to her that this was my home and she was not allowed. She continues to show up at my gate, front porch and even peered through my front window one night. It is really creepy. I told me Mkuu about it and he doesn’t really think it is a problem. I see her a lot with his daughter, so maybe he doesn’t want to be mean to her. She also disrupted my class on Friday by walking up to the front and asking for a dictionary while I was teaching. A few minutes later she raised her hand (I thought to answer a question) and started rambling again about her family. When I told her to stop she ran out of the classroom and then I yelled at her to come back and sit in class. I just don’t know what to do with her! I continue to have students bang on my door/windows all the time to ask for water too. When I’m at home, I’m usually wearing shorts and a tank top and so it’s a pain to have to change just to answer the door, just to tell them they can’t have water.

I do allow certain students in my house-ones who are not actually my students, and those that talk to me and the neighbor boys that help me with a lot of things. One day they were beating the students in the staff room while I was trying to do lesson plans, so I noisily left the room. I was walking around the back of the building and found a group of Form 3 girls hanging out outside. We talked in Swahili and they laughed at me but it wasn’t the mean, mocking laugh that most of the students do. They were giggling because I was trying and I was laughing at myself too! They weren’t in class because they had no teacher. (Even though there were 3 teachers in the staff room beating students.) Later, they asked my Mkuu if I could be their teacher. The girls came to my house Thursday to ask me myself. They ate Honey Oat bread (that was chewy because I didn’t let it rise enough), drank water, painted their toenails, and read People magazine. It was fun to just hang out with them. One of them was Fausta, my old house girl. I asked her to come once a week just to mop the floor and sweep the dirt because I can’t make myself do that. Her and Regina (the really outgoing one) eagerly agreed to do it. When I asked them how much they should get paid they said “hamna” (nothing). I’m going to pay them 1,000/= each week, which is less than $1. On Friday I went to their class and I’m going to make that a very informal class and do mostly speaking exercises. There are only about 20 Form 3’s so it should be a fun, interactive class. We just did introductions and their grammar is horrible. “I have 16 year. And brothers, one; sisters, three.”

The other big thing this week has been graduation practice. I went to watch one day and had a good time. They have three drummers, a very talented young lady singing, and everyone else chants/sings along. It is just kind of line dancing (same formation), but just to the beat of the drum. Then, they did a comedy skit which I couldn’t really understand. The graduation is supposed to be next weekend, but they aren’t getting enough contributions from people. They came to my house asking for contributions. During training they told us that when asked for contributions (for a wedding, funeral, graduation, etc) to look at the contribution book and see how much other people put in. I couldn’t decipher their book, so ended up just giving 5,000 which seems about right after talking to other volunteers. The contributions go towards throwing a party. In America, most people have their own parties afterward, but here they can’t afford that, so the graduation is the party. Hopefully it will happen next weekend as planned!

This weekend I’m going to loot a PCV’s house who is about to COS (close of service). I’m excited! Last night we were at the bar and Mikey was flicking lit matches around and accidentally lit Steph's hair on fire. Oops.We were also thinking of how much a beer would cost in America, in shillings. Jenn was saying a Bud Light in NYC was $9 which is 15,000/=. We pay 2,000/= per beer. And 2.2 beers here equals a 6-pack by American standards. Each beer is bigger (500ml) and has a higher alcohol content (usually 6.5%). Also, beers here are sold in bars for only slightly more that the wholesale value. They buy them for 1,600/=to 1,800/= and re-sell for 2,000/= Speaking of which, I’M A SHILLINGI-AIRE! It is crazy to see that amount of money in your bank account. I think I’m going to save it for traveling to Zanzibar and Kilimanjaro at some point!

Some Humor:

Last weekend, we were talking about how we wanted someone to bring us ice cream on the beach. TJ said, “Well just go find a 4-year-old with a baby strapped to his back. Then you know he’s responsible. 4-year-olds with no babies on their backs need to get their shit together and obviously can’t be trusted.”