Life in Rabondo has been a bit of an emotional roller coaster for the past few weeks. The Texans came and went, one of them generously leaving me her laptop to use for videochat between Kenyan students and her own, and teaching has reached both glory and the pits of despair. As I mentioned in my last post I took on more classes at the primary school, which seemed like a good idea at the time, but has been incredibly overwhelming. I was given no curriculum, only a book, in which no one seemed to know what they had learned, and principal and other teachers were less than helpful. The one teacher who could actually explain what one of the classes had been learning then proceeded to rearrange his schedule so that I could take more of his classes and when I told him to teach his own class he attempted to trick me into teaching his class. The other teachers do not follow the timetable so I often find teachers teaching other subjects to the classes I am assigned, which is strange considering that they skip their own lessons on a regular basis.
I met with the Principal after a realizing that the kids were not learning from me, but he told me to use more body language. Today I taught 7th grade about the reproductive system. Lovely. I never thought I would be drawing a detailed penis on the board for a classroom of 14 and 15 year olds. I'm sorry principal, but body language just wasn't an option.
My 6th grade class was acting up the other day and in utter frustration I mentioned it to another teacher. Ten minutes later the entire 6th grade was herded into the staff room, told to lie on the floor and beaten with sticks. It took me a minute to comprehend that these were my students and they were being beaten because of my comment. Ever since then the teachers seem to have decided that it is now OK to beat the kids in front of me (up until that point they were keeping it more discreet), and I have witnessed many a broken stick and yelping child. Am I just as cruel as the teachers with the sticks? I don't stop them.
Language is still a hindrance on everything I do. I got into many fruitless arguments with people who were telling me I was lost before I realized that they only meant they hadn't seen me for a while. But through all the frustration and misunderstanding I am learning a great deal about myself, my expectations of others and about other people in general. I am realizing that everything depends on perception and no perception of mine is more correct than a perception of anyone else, however unfair. I am learning how to slow down - how to stop and remind myself how lucky I am to have been raised by good parents in a priveledged home. I am coming to appreciate the value of being able to look like a fool and laugh at myself. And I am reminding myself day after day that what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.