We are two weeks deep, and I am starting to feel a bit more like
a real teacher. I have finally started getting into the routine of getting up
at five every day before the sun comes up, reporting to school at seven thirty,
and working from eight to three. By three in the afternoon, I am usually
exhausted and really excited to be on my way home. My class schedule is nice- I
teach several lessons every day between my three subjects, and spend the rest
of my time planning, grading and tutoring in the library. While the library is
nothing fancy, it has become my oasis every afternoon.
On Monday and Friday mornings before each day begins, one
class section is responsible for hosting the morning devotion- a meeting place
where all of the teachers and learners come together to start and end the week.
The class usually sings a few songs and a dance, offers a prayer and says an
official greeting to the school. Announcements are made, and the flag is raised
and the whole school joins together to sing the school anthem, followed by the
national anthem. I love listening to the kids sing all of their songs-
traditional or national. They all seem to have a great talent for singing,
which I am very envious of. Something I have been noticing is that the kids
never receive praise for hosting a great devotion, and I don’t think they ever
expect it. I often think of kids back home and how reliant they are on praise
and positive reinforcement, but it appears that these kids are able to function
on their own pride alone, which I appreciate.
In terms of teaching, this week was pretty rough. I was
finally starting to make the tiniest bit of progress with my grade 8 English
learners, when my school decided that they wanted to drop one section (there
used to be four sections of about 25 learners each) and consolidate them into
three larger sections instead. This wouldn’t have been a big deal, except that
my school assigned me to pick up a class section that I had never met before,
and another teacher would be taking my old class. So, new week, new challenge,
new class. Let’s just say that I took many steps backwards this week starting
over with these kids. I am struggling to figure out how I can possibly move
forward with the syllabus, as most of my English learners can barely form a
coherent written sentence. I have started to realize how far behind these kids
are and I am starting to see just how much their lack of English education can put
them at a disadvantage in the rest of their classes, too. If you can’t succeed
in an English class, how can you possibly take a Geography class that is taught
in English, too? Anyway, this is going to be a huge challenge- meeting their
foundational needs while trying to work through a curriculum and syllabus that
are lightyears ahead of the level they are currently at… I don’t even know
where to begin. Most days, I feel pretty helpless. Everyone in my classes needs
a whole lot of help- I just hope that I am able to offer them each something
they need.
I have also begun to see that my learners don’t exactly
treat me the way they treat their other teachers. I have had to stop my classes
so many times this week and wait for kids to stop talking, fighting, etc. It is
so interesting- they are too shy to answer questions in class, cover their faces
and whisper practically when they do answer a question- yet they talk over me
with the people sitting next to them. Maybe they are starting to think that I am
just some cool white hippie lady and whatever. This idea just doesn’t fly in a
class of 40 kids and only one of me. I had a long talk with my principal this
week- I was getting fed up that the kids were either not doing their homework,
or handing in really shitty, half-completed assignments. I can’t tell yet if
this is a lack of respect, or if they are really just so not used to having an
interactive classroom that they don’t know what to make of me. For example-
this week, I had a teacher come up to me in between classes and ask “if I could
possibly not use the board that period, because she just wrote notes all over
it, and didn’t want to have to do it again tomorrow”. I wanted to vomit when I heard
this. Teachers here tend to rely on the “I write this on the board, you write
it in your notebook” method. No wonder why kids are embarrassed to speak in
English or raise their voices/opinions in class. Many have never had to do this
before. I am trying so hard to be patient and nurturing, as my goal for the
year is to get each learner confident enough to do a report in front of the
class.
Enough about all of that. Ted and I went to the talent show
at his school last weekend, which was just awesome. All of the learners showed
up to watch (it was held inside the cafeteria) and some of their teachers, too.
The kids were so excited to sing, dance, and perform “R&B” acts, pretending
to be The Dogg or the band PDK.
Other interesting things this week- I was sitting outside
the library at school, eating my lunch, as I do every afternoon. One of my
colleagues came to say hello, and was so shocked to find that I was eating a
salad. When I told her that I don’t eat meat, of course, she was astonished. We
had a conversation about why I don’t eat meat, how good the meat is here, and
how she simply could not survive without a meat-heavy diet. I explained to her
about the quality of the meat and poultry at home- how everything is pumped
full of hormones and chemicals so that people can make more money. She
reassured me that everything here is natural, local, and was probably killed
that day or week for consumption. Let me get to my favorite part of the
conversation- we talked a bit more about food and such, she told me about some
of the vegetarian things people like to eat here (like porridge), and before
she left, she said, “Can I ask you one question about the food in America?” yes…
“is it true that people even eat oranges without seeds there?” I was embarrassed
to say yes. She was so sad to hear that even our produce is terribly mutated,
for better or for worse. Funny but true.
We went to a friend’s birthday party in Ongwediva on Friday
night, which is about 40k away from our site. Since coming to Namibia, we have
had no trouble at all with cabs or getting ripped off or anything of the sort.
We have been told that cab drivers here all follow government-regulated prices
for standard trips, so we usually don’t have to worry about negotiating, etc.
We got in a cab, as usual, and hit the dusty dirt road to town. We were only
about five minutes away from our destination, when our driver became confused
about where we wanted to go, so he decided to pull off the road to ask an auto
mechanic for some directions. When he asked the mechanic, he said it was a few
more minutes down the road. The driver proceeded to tell us that it was too
far, and that we had to get out and pay him for how far we had gone. In
reality, our destination was only about 3k from where we stopped, but that is
not the point of this story. Our cab fare should have been $17 each to get from
our village to the first town, and another $9 each to get from that town to our
current location. This guy tried to tell us that he wanted $100 for the trip we
had just taken. Yep, for real. Luckily the guys working at the auto shop took
our side, told the driver he was full of it, and told him to leave. Someone who
was there waiting for their car to be fixed offered to drop us off at our
friend’s house, which we gladly accepted.
The party was nice- it was family, friends, and some
colleagues of the birthday girl. Everyone sat outside chatting, drinking and
feasting. So I have told you many times about how Namibians love meat- let me
try to explain this again. The grilling started at about 8:00, and went on for
at least four hours- the last batch of meat was coming off the grill after
midnight. Trays and trays and trays of different grilled meat just kept coming
in shifts. Chicken, sausages, various cuts of beef- it was never ending. There
was a ton of Tafel (the Namibian beer) and hard cider, which I have become a
big fan of. They had a really nice cake, pasta salad, and grilled some fish
especially for Ted and I, which was so nice. Everyone at the party was pretty
kind- we couldn’t really participate in most of the conversations, as they were
all speaking in Oshikwanyama, but we listened thoughtfully and enjoyed watching
the stars come out. We pitched a tent and slept out back, as travelling by car
at night here is very dangerous. Lots of people get killed here hitting cattle
on unlit roads, or by drunk drivers (you can drive with open containers here).
We took care of our grocery shopping today, which is a long
and tiring process. Apparently the first weekend of the month is the busiest
shopping day- since everyone just got paid on Friday. This proved to be true
today. The market was super busy today, and as if things aren’t slow moving
enough, the crowds really add to the issue. The lines can be really long and
slow moving, then, once you finally get through the line, you have to have your
entire receipt checked, item by item, to make sure you aren’t stealing
anything. Everything is a process.
Things to think about this week:
There is no such thing here as a place to get a coffee to
go. It doesn’t exist. This is a very big problem.
Vocabulary:
Robots= traffic lights
Footing= walking, arriving on foot
Somehow= so-so, as in, my day has been somehow
Cooldrink= soda
Sweets= candies
In good news, we found veggie burgers at a different
supermarket today. Still no tofu, though. On our agenda: we are trying to buy a
goat. One to keep here at our house and eat our grass. If all goes well, we
will have a new pet soon, we just have to convince the school to allow us to
get one since we live on their property!
That’s it for now! I am going to attempt to make an angel
food cake today without the proper pan and with a highly dysfunctional oven.
Tomorrow, we may begin working on our garden. Happy weekend to all!
Sometimes, we need to be reminded of what it feels like to be a minority, to be mistreated for the color of your skin, whatever- so that when we return home, we can fight for the people who are in shoes similar to the ones we are in right now. You really can't understand what it is like to be hated for no reason than the color of your skin until it happens to you. Then, you can fully empathize with the people who suffer in this way, every day. We are definitely breaking down racial walls in being here. It is tiring, but it is powerful. 
