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Published: July 24th 2010
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First time walking by myself to school today. There's a farm I walk by each day and the smell coming from it is so pungent, it leaves me begging for the stench of a midwestern pig farm. I arrive at school for C is for Caterpillar day. I also did C is for counting and we did some math. I read a caterpillar poem, which pretty much fell flat with the kids. They don't seem too excited to listen to stories or poems. I imagine they don't do a lot of extended listening as I haven't seen any teacher read anything to them. Most of their lessons include oral responses from the students which I've tried to incorporate that into my lessons as well. It helps to keep the children focused. At tea and scone time, one of the older boys goes to his bag, which is near me. "Teacha" he says. And he's holding the butterfly picture we did yesterday. Since he colored it, he's put stickers on it. He takes out his notebook and continues to peel off all the stickers and gently presses them onto his butterfly picture--his treasure.
I remember a comment my dad made when
my parents called the other night. They had been watching Heartland TV and Mike Breaux's "Making Ripples" message had been on. Dad mentioned that one of the children I'm teaching English to may grow up to be the president of Tanzania. Pretty neat to think that is possible, but, equally important, I'm hoping that each child remembers that someone came from far away to teach them, to love on them and encourage them. And that, somehow, that love will spread.
Adult English class is another success. Today we discuss possessive vs plural. This is a challenge for them as most students knew what each should look like, but didn't understand how to use them. Although, this is difficult for native English speakers as well. We did a lot of practice with that. We began with a debate about the best way to cure/prevent malaria as some of the traditional Tanzanian methods include putting aloe vera in the water they drink, cutting bushes around the house or drinking kanyagi--an African gin. The latter sounds pretty fun except that I don't want to be anywhere near alcohol when I'm sick. The students came up with some fairly good points, but the
discussion fell flat, so we moved on. We wrapped up with the last letter game using adjectives. One person wrote an adjective on the board and another person had to write another adjective that started with the last letter of the previous word. This is the second time we played this, but it was still a challenge for most of them. I also asked what topics the students would like to cover for the last 2 classes. There were a lot of suggestions and some were very specific, such as passive voice vs active voice and conditions class. I really appreciate how much they want to learn. After class, the boy who gave me a flower the day before asks for my phone number. I'm actually quite ticked since I've told the class I'm married and I'm certain he knows this. While Tanzanians are definitely very friendly, I get the distinct feeling he's hitting on me. Especially after what P told me last night. He warned that women should not walk back to the hotel from Mchuno's alone (about a 5 minute walk) because Tanzanian men see a white woman alone and think "I will take her back to my
village and make her my wife". He laughed as he said it, but I still find it barbaric and will certainly heed his warning. "No. Absolutely not." I tell the boy. "That would make my husband very unhappy." And, BTW, if my husband were here, he'd kick your butt Marine-style.
After dinner, I have my first trip to Mchuno's. I am underwhelmed. It's a neat place--open-air bar on one side and a couple TV's and a pool table under a hut. It's definitely cool to be able to say I've hung out in an African bar, but I realize that what I've been missing is, um, nothing. I think most of that comes from the fact that I'm old and married and generally don't spend my time at the bar and tonight is a pretty dead night at Mchuno's. I do learn a few interesting tidbits while I'm there. E tells me Jecaan schools costs 500,000 schillings per year (about $350) which is quite a bit considering the average household income is a little over $500 per year and the education they're getting is somewhat minimal. Though I'm guessing it's much more than what their parents had. I also learn the British terms "taking a mickey" (joking around) and "for the love of crumpets". Lol. ALthough I think that may just be a term A uses. I mention to Sc, a fellow American, that I'll be in London on the 4th of July. We both laugh at the irony and he mentions that he'll be in Nepal so he's hoping to find another American to celebrate with. E, a Brit, asks what we do for this holiday, almost as if she's never heard of it. I suppose it's not the type of thing they teach in British schools, so I explain we usually gather with our family and friends, enjoy a cookout and then fireworks at the end of the evening. I don't stay out too late--it is a weeknight after all.
I've been here for a few days now and I'm starting to get used to what it's like to live here. I'm beginning to like cold showers after a hot sweaty day, not wearing any makeup, the lack of email and facebook and the fact that everyone I work for thinks I'm doing an absolutely amazing job simply because I'm giving my best effort.
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