Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
And Then There Were Five
Four Texans arrived in Rabondo a few days ago so there are now five mzungus here! They are here to deliver this huge crate that apparently has desks and playground equiptment and sewing machines and computers, but the church where the crate was being held is now holding it ransom for something like $1000! So the Texans are just haning around here waiting. They are all older, but it's pretty nice being able to speak to someone at a regular pace and to know that they understand me.
Starting Monday my schedule here will be completely changing. I told the secondary principle that it won't work unless I have regular classes so he organized them for me in the afternoon after school hours. Then Timon said he would prefer I spend more time in the primary school so I am going to be teaching there all morning and not going to the dispensary at all (at least not on a daily basis). I am a little sad because I liked helping at the clinic, and teaching is harder, but I know that with my lack of medical experience and the situation in the schools teaching is where I can have the most impact. Unfortunately the classes that don't have teachers are mainly science classes. Not only am I completely inadequate as a science teacher, but the primary principle doesn't know where they are in the curriculum and one of the classes is fifth grade so communication will be next to impossible. Lovely.
So a day in the life of African Ellie will go as follows: wake up at six, make some oatmeal and walk up to primary. Teach 6th grade math, seventh grade science, 5th grade science (ahhh!), 6th grade English. Eat lunch either in this tiny, dark, fly-infested room that they call a restaurant or with the teachers at secondary. Either way lunch probably consists of ugali, which is maze flour and water boiled into a very thick porridge and shaped into a cake, and sakuma wiki, which is a kale like vegetable that is shreaded and steamed/stir fried. Sometimes there are small fish, which are exactly what they sound like. They are the fish that little children try to catch in the shallow water at the lake and people here dry them, fry them and eat them whole whole. Eyes and all.
After lunch I will teach 9th and 11th grade computer classes and then either go home or help out at the dispensary for a little while. Back at home I usually help cook dinner (which is the same as lunch), and let me tell you everything here is harder than it looks. I probably would have lost a finger to shreading sakuma wiki if the knives weren't so dull and after mixing, stirring and shaping the ugali over a fire I was dripping sweat and heavilly panting. It was fairly humiliating. Kenyans just sit there and stir it and then pick up the burning hot pot with their bare hands, but I swear to God it's like stirring cement, and the smoke is blinding, and then you have to somehow flip the pot off the fire onto a plate, without any hot pads because those do not exist here. It really does not seem worth that much effort for ugali, but then again it doesn't require so much effort when they do it, and I guess they don't have much choice.
After dinner I fill a bucket of water and go out to this little hut and bathe. There is actually a shower in the guest house, but there is always something wrong with it and it's more fun to bathe outside anyway.
At this point I usually grade papers, and I will probably have a lot more to grade starting Monday. And when I finish I collapse onto my foam mattress in the little hut which I now sleep in with my African "sisters" Josephine and Loviance. Usually the room is still full of people being loud and the light is still on, but I am way to tired to care.
I wish there was someway that I could truly communicate to you all the craziness and excitement of everyday life here. There is so much more I want to tell you about and show you, but I can't fit it all here. I am trying to upload some pictures onto facebook so check there too. I miss you all!!!
Starting Monday my schedule here will be completely changing. I told the secondary principle that it won't work unless I have regular classes so he organized them for me in the afternoon after school hours. Then Timon said he would prefer I spend more time in the primary school so I am going to be teaching there all morning and not going to the dispensary at all (at least not on a daily basis). I am a little sad because I liked helping at the clinic, and teaching is harder, but I know that with my lack of medical experience and the situation in the schools teaching is where I can have the most impact. Unfortunately the classes that don't have teachers are mainly science classes. Not only am I completely inadequate as a science teacher, but the primary principle doesn't know where they are in the curriculum and one of the classes is fifth grade so communication will be next to impossible. Lovely.
So a day in the life of African Ellie will go as follows: wake up at six, make some oatmeal and walk up to primary. Teach 6th grade math, seventh grade science, 5th grade science (ahhh!), 6th grade English. Eat lunch either in this tiny, dark, fly-infested room that they call a restaurant or with the teachers at secondary. Either way lunch probably consists of ugali, which is maze flour and water boiled into a very thick porridge and shaped into a cake, and sakuma wiki, which is a kale like vegetable that is shreaded and steamed/stir fried. Sometimes there are small fish, which are exactly what they sound like. They are the fish that little children try to catch in the shallow water at the lake and people here dry them, fry them and eat them whole whole. Eyes and all.
After lunch I will teach 9th and 11th grade computer classes and then either go home or help out at the dispensary for a little while. Back at home I usually help cook dinner (which is the same as lunch), and let me tell you everything here is harder than it looks. I probably would have lost a finger to shreading sakuma wiki if the knives weren't so dull and after mixing, stirring and shaping the ugali over a fire I was dripping sweat and heavilly panting. It was fairly humiliating. Kenyans just sit there and stir it and then pick up the burning hot pot with their bare hands, but I swear to God it's like stirring cement, and the smoke is blinding, and then you have to somehow flip the pot off the fire onto a plate, without any hot pads because those do not exist here. It really does not seem worth that much effort for ugali, but then again it doesn't require so much effort when they do it, and I guess they don't have much choice.
After dinner I fill a bucket of water and go out to this little hut and bathe. There is actually a shower in the guest house, but there is always something wrong with it and it's more fun to bathe outside anyway.
At this point I usually grade papers, and I will probably have a lot more to grade starting Monday. And when I finish I collapse onto my foam mattress in the little hut which I now sleep in with my African "sisters" Josephine and Loviance. Usually the room is still full of people being loud and the light is still on, but I am way to tired to care.
I wish there was someway that I could truly communicate to you all the craziness and excitement of everyday life here. There is so much more I want to tell you about and show you, but I can't fit it all here. I am trying to upload some pictures onto facebook so check there too. I miss you all!!!
Monday, October 12, 2009
I finally have internet!!!
I am sorry I haven't posted in over a week now, but to my defense I have tried multiple times. I'm now sitting in the high school on the old dell desktop (of which the screen is violently shaking) and praying that the electricity will work long enough for me to finish this post.
Things are fine in Racondo. I have been keeping busy at the schools and the clinic (and by keeping busy I mean I've been there, not that I have necessarily done anything substantial). It is still impossible to count on anything being regular, which means my computer classes are made of new people each time, which means that I can't move past the first lesson. I find myself repeating phrases like "no, don't ever click the right side of the mouse" and "fjfjfj space ddddd" in the place in my head that used to resonate overplayed pop songs.
In primary school I teach seventh grade English, sixth grade math (or maths as they call it here) and whatever little kid class doesn't have a teacher on a given day. The little kids' English vocabulary doesn't span far beyond "how are you?" so I can only teach them math. It's kind of cool how I can communiate to 50 African first graders through numbers, although they don't understand my pronounciation so I have to have to write everything on the board. The class sizes, by the way, are HUGE. I am not exaggerating when I say 50 first graders. I made the mistake of collecting compositions from my seveth graders and spent my entire night heavily grading what seemed like a never ending stack of grammar mistakes.
As for home life, it gets better everyday. The compound I live on is made up of a really nice guest house, two small mud huts, and a whole lot Africans who are somehow related. I was having a lot of issues at the beginning with everyone being way too polite and always serving me and treating me like some celebrity. That may sound appealing but it makes a person feel incredibly alienated. Since being in Rabondo I have firmly decided I don't ever want to be famous. But anyway I just keep refusing their special treatment, insisting on doing what they do, and spending all my time out in the mud huts rather than the guest house. I am actually going to start sleeping out there tonight! I have to be more blunt than I have ever been in insisting how I want to be treated and what I am trying to say, but things have gotten far more comfortable and fun.
Trying to make people here understand me has been the biggest challenge so far. I think I mentioned that only those who have had at least four years of school school speak English, meaning a good amount of people between the age of 12 and 30, but I use the terms speak and English very lightly. Words from the English language come out of their mouths, but they do not always make up a coherant thought and sometimes have to be decoded from the British and Kenyan influence that affects all English here. Talking gets so frustrating! It takes such an effort to get any little question answered and I'm never sure if they actually understand what I am telling them. Trying to explain myself is often like being in an argument with someone. It's like when you are arguing something and you know so passionately in your heart that you're right, but the other person just can't comprehend your point of view. You lay out a perfectly reasoned, detailed explanation of why you feel how you feel and they just say, no you're wrong. And you get so mad, but it's not their fault that they just have a different understanding of the world.
Ok I have taken far more than my share of computer time and need to go to the clinic. I miss you all, and I love hearing from you so please keep commenting and facebooking and calling, etc.
Things are fine in Racondo. I have been keeping busy at the schools and the clinic (and by keeping busy I mean I've been there, not that I have necessarily done anything substantial). It is still impossible to count on anything being regular, which means my computer classes are made of new people each time, which means that I can't move past the first lesson. I find myself repeating phrases like "no, don't ever click the right side of the mouse" and "fjfjfj space ddddd" in the place in my head that used to resonate overplayed pop songs.
In primary school I teach seventh grade English, sixth grade math (or maths as they call it here) and whatever little kid class doesn't have a teacher on a given day. The little kids' English vocabulary doesn't span far beyond "how are you?" so I can only teach them math. It's kind of cool how I can communiate to 50 African first graders through numbers, although they don't understand my pronounciation so I have to have to write everything on the board. The class sizes, by the way, are HUGE. I am not exaggerating when I say 50 first graders. I made the mistake of collecting compositions from my seveth graders and spent my entire night heavily grading what seemed like a never ending stack of grammar mistakes.
As for home life, it gets better everyday. The compound I live on is made up of a really nice guest house, two small mud huts, and a whole lot Africans who are somehow related. I was having a lot of issues at the beginning with everyone being way too polite and always serving me and treating me like some celebrity. That may sound appealing but it makes a person feel incredibly alienated. Since being in Rabondo I have firmly decided I don't ever want to be famous. But anyway I just keep refusing their special treatment, insisting on doing what they do, and spending all my time out in the mud huts rather than the guest house. I am actually going to start sleeping out there tonight! I have to be more blunt than I have ever been in insisting how I want to be treated and what I am trying to say, but things have gotten far more comfortable and fun.
Trying to make people here understand me has been the biggest challenge so far. I think I mentioned that only those who have had at least four years of school school speak English, meaning a good amount of people between the age of 12 and 30, but I use the terms speak and English very lightly. Words from the English language come out of their mouths, but they do not always make up a coherant thought and sometimes have to be decoded from the British and Kenyan influence that affects all English here. Talking gets so frustrating! It takes such an effort to get any little question answered and I'm never sure if they actually understand what I am telling them. Trying to explain myself is often like being in an argument with someone. It's like when you are arguing something and you know so passionately in your heart that you're right, but the other person just can't comprehend your point of view. You lay out a perfectly reasoned, detailed explanation of why you feel how you feel and they just say, no you're wrong. And you get so mad, but it's not their fault that they just have a different understanding of the world.
Ok I have taken far more than my share of computer time and need to go to the clinic. I miss you all, and I love hearing from you so please keep commenting and facebooking and calling, etc.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Rabondo
Thanks for the comments!! I am in Rabando! I miss Bev and the boys SO much, which made the adjustment hard, but I am learning to love Rabondo too. I thought people were crazy about the mzungu (white person) in Nakuru but oooh my god I didn't have any idea. Here all the kids below age three get this shocked look on their faces when they see me and then run away screaming at the top of their lungs. The four and five years old will trail behind me as I walk and the brave ones run up and touch me. The elementary kids just stare and giggle while high schoolers make cat calls and whistle or bombard me with questions. The old women are my favorite. I can't understand a word they're saying and they know it, but they will just stand and continue asking me questions and telling me things and then start laughing hysterically.
It was pretty chaotic when I first got here. I went to the elementary school the first day and while I was just planning on getting a feel for it, they sent me to teach a class of eigth graders (many of whom are older than me) and didn't tell me what to teach or when the class ended. The kids kept lying to me because they wanted the mzungu in their class and no one came to relieve me so I was stranded trying to improvise an English class for four hours!
After that I decided I would check out the high school where they told me there I would be teaching beginner computer lessons, but every single computer had viruses and zero protection. I am quickly becomming an expert on technology.
My last job is to volunteer in the village dispensary. I got off to a great start today when the nurses left me in charge during their lunch break. A patient came so I went to try and find them but all I knew was they were in one of the surrounding huts. I went to the closest hut and the door was a little open so I stuck my head in, but there was a lady right inside standing butt naked bathing herself!!! She screamed so I screamed and then I just ran away, but she is clearly going to know it was me as I am the only white person for a 20 mile radius...
Other than that I pretty much just sat in the dispensary and distracted people from their pain by being white. Oh and the nurses made me take pictures with them. Posing as their patient. It was very bizzarre.
Collins, my main go-to person for everything, got called in two months early by his college and left yesterday, and my phone stopped working (oh my number is +10910418292), but at least I have internet for the moment! And I have more phone numbers, dinner invitations, and even sleepover invitations than I can keep track of. Everyone wants to have the mzungu in his house! My first computer lesson is tomorrow so I guess I should get some sleep, but I miss you all!
It was pretty chaotic when I first got here. I went to the elementary school the first day and while I was just planning on getting a feel for it, they sent me to teach a class of eigth graders (many of whom are older than me) and didn't tell me what to teach or when the class ended. The kids kept lying to me because they wanted the mzungu in their class and no one came to relieve me so I was stranded trying to improvise an English class for four hours!
After that I decided I would check out the high school where they told me there I would be teaching beginner computer lessons, but every single computer had viruses and zero protection. I am quickly becomming an expert on technology.
My last job is to volunteer in the village dispensary. I got off to a great start today when the nurses left me in charge during their lunch break. A patient came so I went to try and find them but all I knew was they were in one of the surrounding huts. I went to the closest hut and the door was a little open so I stuck my head in, but there was a lady right inside standing butt naked bathing herself!!! She screamed so I screamed and then I just ran away, but she is clearly going to know it was me as I am the only white person for a 20 mile radius...
Other than that I pretty much just sat in the dispensary and distracted people from their pain by being white. Oh and the nurses made me take pictures with them. Posing as their patient. It was very bizzarre.
Collins, my main go-to person for everything, got called in two months early by his college and left yesterday, and my phone stopped working (oh my number is +10910418292), but at least I have internet for the moment! And I have more phone numbers, dinner invitations, and even sleepover invitations than I can keep track of. Everyone wants to have the mzungu in his house! My first computer lesson is tomorrow so I guess I should get some sleep, but I miss you all!
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