Zimbabwe

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OK so thus far my blogging has been poor - awful so i thought I should catch up on the events so far. I am not a talented writer and I'm sure the following paragraphs are going to be pretty dull to read but here we go; this is more a blog for me to look back on and then can remember the stories and tell them later.

The School, I have spent most of my time in Zim helping to teach at St Basil's primary school so it seems to me a good place to start my blog.

On my first day we arrived (me and Oscar) to find the children (all 700 of them) in the main assembly point ready to welcome us. Unsure what to expect we stepped up in front of this hoard of children. Before we could speak all 700 spoke in unison:

“Good morning sir”

Taken aback we replied

“Good morning”

Again united, with military discipline they replied

“We are fine thank you how are you?”

Guilty for not asking how they were I mumbled

“Good thanks”

700 – “Thaaank you”

And so began my first day at St Basil’s.

In the past 4 weeks I have taught everything from fractions to English to HIV. I have really enjoyed the freedom of the lessons the teacher I am helping will simply say ‘teach fractions’ or ‘teach English’ and then proceeds to sit back and get out their phone leaving 40 pre teen faces staring up at me and so I begin!

It is very clichéd and ‘gap yaaah’ but you are struck by the attentiveness of the kids and their genuine eagerness to learn, which is a bit of a rarity in the UK. All the lessons are taught, predominantly, in English as it is still the official language of Zim and the fluency is varied to say the least. As I stand in front of 6A (my usual group) asking questions etc. I look out at 40 faces. Of these the same 10 will raise their hands, not straight as in the UK, but a bizarre Nazi salute all the while clicking their fingers, whistling at me and bouncing up and down in their seats. At home this would be viewed as sarcastic and very rude but here it is just how its done and shows their eagerness. Incidentally in restaurants it is common to attract a waiter’s attention with a ‘tsst’ sound, a move that would earn you a slap, or spit in your food anywhere other than Zim! Anyway back on topic of the 30 remaining students 10 have clearly understood but are to shy to raise their hand. This leaves 20 blank faces at the back of the room who the regular teacher has to translate what I say into Shona for them. I can’t help but think that, when I am alone and there is no translator that I really am painting a white wall white but I hope that some of it goes in!

This divide within each class was most recently highlighted in a geography test I devised with the teacher (the lesson had been on weathering, a subject that had me stumbling through with what I remembered of Common Entrance). Of the kids 18 scored 20,19,18,17/20 and the remaining 21 didn’t score above 3 (with 2 getting 0). It can get quite demoralizing when the kids don’t pick up what you are trying to teach but they do make progress especially when there is a Shona speaker to reinforce what I have been saying.

Though their English is a bit ropey they are all excellent at maths and, cheesy as it may be, I could see why it is described as a universal language. Once there are numbers on the board everyone can understand and even learn the new methods etc just by following what the numbers are doing rather than having to understand my English.

Though my main ‘job’ has been teaching it is not all work and no play. Last Thursday there was a travelling gymnast/circus man who came to the school to do a performance. He took payment in bottles (plastic and glass), it was a strange sight to see all these kids lined up with their bottles waiting for the stamp on the cheek to allow entry! Though this was all well and good there was no mercy for those students who tried to watch without ‘paying’. No humouring them they were just pushed, kicked and thrown out the way by older students and teachers! The performance was good, classic street performance, with gymnastics, fire breathing and drumming. At one point the lighter fluid was spilt, there was no effort to clean up this hazard it was just left there and kids were splashing through it bare foot as though it were water!

I have also taken to playing football with these kids every other day and this is an impressive sight. In the furious heat of the day I run around barefoot with these kids of 8 – 13. In despair I watch as they shot past me not even breaking a sweat as I stagger through them, dripping, stopping every 5 minutes to keel over (though I did better than Oscar who actually chundered). And so the games go on, the kids laughing at my chocking fitness (the kids play for an hour, whereas I have not been able to last more than 20 mins).

Along the lines of sport, they have also been constructing a new basket ball court using Max’s fund raising money and we went to see the area it was going to be situated. It was flat but covered in grass and small trees. So it was that after break that day we were informed that we would not be teaching, but organising a ‘general labour’ session. Unsure what to expect we were led to the B-ball area to see all the grade 5/6s milling around with an array of primitive farming instruments. I have never seen an area cleared so quickly! Seriously screw lawn mowers and expensive labour, get 80 unpaid African kids with metal poles and the job will be done in 10 mins, it was incredible!

I also spent a day at Achris primary, a school on a different farm but Clive is still the patron. The school had a very different atmosphere to St Basil’s, only a couple of years old there are no official classrooms with the farm owner donating have their house to the school. There was a classroom in the hallway, the 2 front rooms, the garage, in the garden and small outdoor thatched shelter. Here I must say the English was of a much higher standard with a couple of kids as designated translators who were borderline fluent at 10/12 yrs old! But it was not just these exceptional students, the general standard of English was much better, I taught a class an English lesson, expecting the 50/50 split as in St Basils however by the end of the lesson (on pen pals) I had an individual letter from each of the students (NB to myself, I MUST write back). It was at St Achris that I had one of my favourite quotes; I passed my camera to one of the teachers and he was flicking through before stopping on a picture of a small hut I had taken in Mozambique. He studied it for a moment before turning to me and asking ‘Where do you live in the UK’. I replied ‘London’ and it turned the camera to me and asked, with complete sincerity, ‘Is this London??’ I would have laughed but the man’s genuine sincerity held me back and I simply told him ‘no’ and described the difference of London.

At the end of the day we had another amusing episode as the headmistress (a large, jovial woman) approached us holding a live chicken by its legs. She passed it to me saying ‘Here is a thank you for all your help today’. I have never held I live chicken in my life and this chicken knew it and started squirming and squawking as soon as it passed into the hands of a novice. I am proud to say I didn’t drop it but neither was I prepared to hold onto this thing as we drove back along the bumpy dirt track in the back of a pick up to the farm. I handed the chicken back very grateful for the offer and equally grateful to be rid of this ‘road runner’.

I had my last day of school today. It was a bit emotional to say goodbye to the kids of 5B and Mr Musieri but we had a good ‘end of term test’ for English and maths. At the end of the morning I had a farewell photo with the class and assured them that all the photos would be sent through to them once I have finished my travels. However, I did want to have a last goodbye to the teachers who have been so kind to me over the past 4 weeks. So I was shown round the little staff ‘village’ which is just the other side of the football pitch. I met all the staff’s families and children and saw their houses and living conditions. Though they weren’t living in spacious buildings there was a definite homely feel to all the buildings and a sense of real community, everyone knows each other and is welcome into each other’s houses and all the kids are playing together outside and I guess it just felt like they were all one family of brothers cousins etc. After the tour we all went for a goodbye drink at the local shop/bar and just sat outside chatting (I was increasing my Shona dictionary for a couple of hours). Here I was introduced to Chibuku, a Zimbabwean beer made from hops, maize, a cereal and yeast. It comes in 2 litre plastic bottles for a dollar and is apparently the drink of choice. More than this it is actually considered a health drink as it is so full of nutrients it is the same as eating a meal!

Anyway, so ended my time at St Basil’s. It has, in a word, been fantastic and I cannot wait to come back to see how everyone is doing. I have promised to keep in touch and send through the photos and Mr Musieri has asked that I find pen pals for his kids! The UK opinion of Zimbabwe (an unstable political system and a dangerous place for the ‘white man’) is so wrong, everyone I have met (not just at the school I am now speaking in general) is so kind and helpful and just wants to know about how we live in the UK!

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