I'm the "Mama Bear". Apparently my Portuguese is easy to understand for the trainees.
My mother arrived today and, surprisingly, everything went as planned. She's gotten a taste of Maputo and Portuguese, and now getting some much needed rest after an incredibly long and tiring trip.
I'm beginning to realize how much I've actually accomplished in the past year, and it's only the beginning.
But being in training made me feel very ALIVE because of all these new people absorbing everything. I think life is turning into a blur that will only start to wind down in December sometime (maybe?). Cool.
Peace
John
Sunday, November 30, 2003
10/28/2003
It's interesting what training does to people. It's like they come from an environment with so many personalities that they have to drown out certain traits, or accentuate ones they didn't have, just to be noticed - just to be an individual. And now in this very focused environment where there is plenty of room to have whatever personality you want, traits get bigger and fill up the empty space. People accentuate parts of themselves they've never let out of the bag and hide some other things they've always expressed. You truly are not yourself during training.
Monica explained it best, but I forgot the exact explanation.
And now, we're figuring out who we really are - in Mozambique.
Peace
John
Monica explained it best, but I forgot the exact explanation.
And now, we're figuring out who we really are - in Mozambique.
Peace
John
10/27/2003
Training is fun. I've realized how much I've learned, and how far I've come since a year ago. Which, of course, is no surprise, but nice to see and hear.
At the same time, I feel like I'm talking peoples' ears off because all they want to hear about is our experiences, but all we want to tell them is that your experiences depend on so many different things, that you can't piece together what your experience will be like - you can only guess at it.
But seeing some people who are leaving and realizing I'm as far away from that as I am to being the trainee, makes me wonder how much - unexpected - will change in my life.
Peace
John
At the same time, I feel like I'm talking peoples' ears off because all they want to hear about is our experiences, but all we want to tell them is that your experiences depend on so many different things, that you can't piece together what your experience will be like - you can only guess at it.
But seeing some people who are leaving and realizing I'm as far away from that as I am to being the trainee, makes me wonder how much - unexpected - will change in my life.
Peace
John
10/26/2003
Visited host family. Ate fried chicken cooked by the new trainee, Mike, at the host. Left various items at Jake's place. Ate a cabbage salad with measuring spoons. Spent 7 hours in a South African-run restaurant sweating and watching soccer. Met a bunch of trainees.
Peace
John
Peace
John
10/24/2003
Here's a truth I wouldn't like to admit - I stick with this experience because I'd like to say I've had it and done it. Clearly there's more, but I feel that very honestly. I think part of that "more" is the effect that my students have had on me. Yes, they have gut-wrenchingly tried my patience every single day, but when I saw a bunch of them leaving the internato (dormitories) with all of their belongings packed into one sack, some of them knowing they would not come back next year - I think it really hit me. I've left my fate to those who don't necessarily share my priorities and I've been forced to look at the world in a different way. I don't feel sad to see them leave because I pity them - I feel sad because they've become a part of my life and I know I will never see some of them again.
I tried to shut off the incoming stream of memories from high school and college, when I felt the same way. There's only so much sympathy - or sentimentality - I can take, especially when earlier in the day, half of them were begging me (some of them girls in very provocative clothing) to raise their grades. It's this constant battle I've fought for nine months, between being pissed off at a developing educational system and being humbled by unquenched desire for knowledge.
Little by little, like every natural system, the lows stop being so low and highs are evened out as well. Next year, I'll be a much better teacher, fully equipped so handle my students.
And tonight really marks the beginning of that second year. I'm only a week away from my half-way point (from being away from Cleveland), I've completed - more or less - the first school year, I'm set to help out in training and get to know the new group, and my mother is coming out to visit. Then, I'll help out with training once again, come back here and participate in activities for world AIDS day, plan out and go to Portugal for Christmas with Eric, go to South Africa to see Cara, Allison and Adam, then start the school year with a new volunteer under "my wing".
Which got me to thinking...why is it that I try so many different things? I think I visualized it by picturing myself walking on a perfectly round plate, balanced in the middle on a sort of giant needle. Head towards the edges, and the plate begins to rock slightly.
But this plate is not normal in any way. It provides the only light in a dark universe, emanating light only where territory has been discovered. And so I am constantly walking this plate, searching dark spaces to bring illumination. And every once in a while, I find the edge - the limit of my abilities. And I don't spend very much time there, because this plate does not like to be unbalanced for very long. So I often return to the middle so that I can look at the big picture and see who I have become and where I would like to go.
I feel like I have discovered only a fraction of the space on this plate, and that areas turn dark with disuse. I must make peace with the fact that I will never find the never-ending edge - the circle that goes around and around without end. Knowing this, I can tell myself to be a wanderer and not have any pressure to try EVERYTHING.
And not all of the space on this plate is occupied by activities I have yet to do. There are emotions I have yet to feel, people I have yet to meet, decisions I have yet to make.
So what occurs to me as I see my students leaving school, possibly for the last time, is whether I have done my best to give them the power to explore their own worlds. Do they see their world a little differently because of me? Do they seek to question what they've been told? Do they know better how to learn?
The randomness of being where I am hasn't escaped me. But the idea that I can adapt and offer my abilities to a community's needs is not only attractive, but is powerful. Sometimes I hope that it's this idea which rubs off on my students.
Peace
John
I tried to shut off the incoming stream of memories from high school and college, when I felt the same way. There's only so much sympathy - or sentimentality - I can take, especially when earlier in the day, half of them were begging me (some of them girls in very provocative clothing) to raise their grades. It's this constant battle I've fought for nine months, between being pissed off at a developing educational system and being humbled by unquenched desire for knowledge.
Little by little, like every natural system, the lows stop being so low and highs are evened out as well. Next year, I'll be a much better teacher, fully equipped so handle my students.
And tonight really marks the beginning of that second year. I'm only a week away from my half-way point (from being away from Cleveland), I've completed - more or less - the first school year, I'm set to help out in training and get to know the new group, and my mother is coming out to visit. Then, I'll help out with training once again, come back here and participate in activities for world AIDS day, plan out and go to Portugal for Christmas with Eric, go to South Africa to see Cara, Allison and Adam, then start the school year with a new volunteer under "my wing".
Which got me to thinking...why is it that I try so many different things? I think I visualized it by picturing myself walking on a perfectly round plate, balanced in the middle on a sort of giant needle. Head towards the edges, and the plate begins to rock slightly.
But this plate is not normal in any way. It provides the only light in a dark universe, emanating light only where territory has been discovered. And so I am constantly walking this plate, searching dark spaces to bring illumination. And every once in a while, I find the edge - the limit of my abilities. And I don't spend very much time there, because this plate does not like to be unbalanced for very long. So I often return to the middle so that I can look at the big picture and see who I have become and where I would like to go.
I feel like I have discovered only a fraction of the space on this plate, and that areas turn dark with disuse. I must make peace with the fact that I will never find the never-ending edge - the circle that goes around and around without end. Knowing this, I can tell myself to be a wanderer and not have any pressure to try EVERYTHING.
And not all of the space on this plate is occupied by activities I have yet to do. There are emotions I have yet to feel, people I have yet to meet, decisions I have yet to make.
So what occurs to me as I see my students leaving school, possibly for the last time, is whether I have done my best to give them the power to explore their own worlds. Do they see their world a little differently because of me? Do they seek to question what they've been told? Do they know better how to learn?
The randomness of being where I am hasn't escaped me. But the idea that I can adapt and offer my abilities to a community's needs is not only attractive, but is powerful. Sometimes I hope that it's this idea which rubs off on my students.
Peace
John
10/23/2003
I think the truth is a lot easier to find and a lot more known than we think it is. We see it, but shut it off - turn away from it - because it's not the answer we wanted, it's too simple, too easy, implies obligation or guilt, or we simply don't trust the source. But we're so conditioned to distrust what is unspoken in favor of something written...and since when did words on paper have more or equal weight to sounds coming from another's mouth?
My point is that we're bombarded with truth every day, and we complain about having to seek it out. What we're actually saying is that the truth is not how we would like it to be, so we think if we can approach the truth from another angle, we can capture it in a different way, a way that will fit our desires.
This is how I see religion, and in general, spirituality. Many people are content to abandon truth-seeking altogether and simply leave those pursuits to others, trusting their findings and allowing the ease of this truth, due to the perceived difficulty with which it was supposedly obtained. But don't all religious prophets simply claim that the truth appeared to them as if it were the easiest thing in the world? We have scientific, but not spiritual, respect for our messiahs who spend lifetimes working towards truths: Darwin, Einstein, Freud, etc. And that respect is fleeting - how many scientists have essentially been shown to be lying. So does that mean scientists are really full of shit? No, I just think the truth is a whole lot easier than we'd like to admit.
That's not to say I agree with our prophets. It's incredible how attractive a prophet is, though, when we value hard-earned knowledge. So is what we're really trying to say, the truth is easy to find, it's just the details that are the hard part?
I realize how vague what I'm saying is, but I promise that it makes sense to me.
Peace
John
My point is that we're bombarded with truth every day, and we complain about having to seek it out. What we're actually saying is that the truth is not how we would like it to be, so we think if we can approach the truth from another angle, we can capture it in a different way, a way that will fit our desires.
This is how I see religion, and in general, spirituality. Many people are content to abandon truth-seeking altogether and simply leave those pursuits to others, trusting their findings and allowing the ease of this truth, due to the perceived difficulty with which it was supposedly obtained. But don't all religious prophets simply claim that the truth appeared to them as if it were the easiest thing in the world? We have scientific, but not spiritual, respect for our messiahs who spend lifetimes working towards truths: Darwin, Einstein, Freud, etc. And that respect is fleeting - how many scientists have essentially been shown to be lying. So does that mean scientists are really full of shit? No, I just think the truth is a whole lot easier than we'd like to admit.
That's not to say I agree with our prophets. It's incredible how attractive a prophet is, though, when we value hard-earned knowledge. So is what we're really trying to say, the truth is easy to find, it's just the details that are the hard part?
I realize how vague what I'm saying is, but I promise that it makes sense to me.
Peace
John
10/22/2003
The weather was perfect today. Yesterday it felt like the first day of spring after a snowy winter. The cold was in the wind, but not in the air, the ground was muddy but freshly so, and I was wearing about 4 layers of summer clothing to make up for the one layer of winter clothing I (mistakenly) did not bring to Africa.
But today was back to being plain old hot. The mud started to dry up, my students stopped dressing like poorly outfitted pimps in their puffy winter coats and uniform pants, and shade was once again welcome.
However, as mistakes go, I made another minor one today. About 3 in the afternoon, well after lunch and without having drunk any water, I settled down to a nice, thick beer with Kingston. I had to convince him that ONE meant ONE and not THREE, but it was still a mistake. I got fairly drunk from the combination of all of these things, made some ill-advised withdrawal from the bank, spoke with the French teacher in SLOW Portuguese (though I think we were both doing it for the benefit of the other) and then returned home in time to eat everything in sight.
Which is why it's 10 PM and I just finished eating dinner, after helping Albertina with her Biology.
One more year?
Peace
John
But today was back to being plain old hot. The mud started to dry up, my students stopped dressing like poorly outfitted pimps in their puffy winter coats and uniform pants, and shade was once again welcome.
However, as mistakes go, I made another minor one today. About 3 in the afternoon, well after lunch and without having drunk any water, I settled down to a nice, thick beer with Kingston. I had to convince him that ONE meant ONE and not THREE, but it was still a mistake. I got fairly drunk from the combination of all of these things, made some ill-advised withdrawal from the bank, spoke with the French teacher in SLOW Portuguese (though I think we were both doing it for the benefit of the other) and then returned home in time to eat everything in sight.
Which is why it's 10 PM and I just finished eating dinner, after helping Albertina with her Biology.
One more year?
Peace
John
10/21/2003
Fatigue has me captive.
The clouds broke today - will it stay this way?
I finished correcting exams. Now just some more paperwork and I'm done with the year.
I'm quite ready for a vacation.
But will I ever enjoy one?
Peace
John
The clouds broke today - will it stay this way?
I finished correcting exams. Now just some more paperwork and I'm done with the year.
I'm quite ready for a vacation.
But will I ever enjoy one?
Peace
John
10/20/2003
Rainy and cold and muddy.
It's true what's said about bad weather - you only enjoy it when you can defeat it. If I didn't have warm clothes and a roof with 4 solid walls, I'd probably be quite uncomfortable.
And just walking is an adventure - finding the right path so you don't end up knee-deep in who-knows-what.
My students feel this and the end of the year, so about half of them showed up today. Even if I wanted to get things done...
I suspected one of my students, who is clearly from a rich family (I've seen him driving two different cars, one of them a new 4x4, and he's 14 years old) of paying Dinho to sit next to him during the Biology test and tell him the answers (he couldn't simply look, because I made two versions). So today, before starting class, I took him into the teacher's room and told him to do the version he didn't do on Friday. I said that if he had studied, he should do a little worse, due to time and the version being a little harder, but I'd be able to determine if the work was his own.
He said, "I can't." I replied that it meant he would get a zero. He agreed, however apathetically, with the sort of attitude that it really didn't matter. In those few seconds, I think I saw an educational lifetime full of buying grades that has so desensitized him he has no stock in the education and no motivation to graduate. It's just something to keep him busy. And when I juxtapose that in my head with girls I know are capable of doing well in school but aren't taking classes because of money, it angers me.
And because Dinho helped - and I believe received quite a bit of money - I've given the two of them zeroes. Judging by their reactions, I'm 99% sure I'm correct. And maybe I should feel good about that, but I don't. I want to believe that I'm not just melting an iceberg with a candle.
No, I refuse to lose my idealism.
Maybe that's what people confuse with naivete.
Peace
John
It's true what's said about bad weather - you only enjoy it when you can defeat it. If I didn't have warm clothes and a roof with 4 solid walls, I'd probably be quite uncomfortable.
And just walking is an adventure - finding the right path so you don't end up knee-deep in who-knows-what.
My students feel this and the end of the year, so about half of them showed up today. Even if I wanted to get things done...
I suspected one of my students, who is clearly from a rich family (I've seen him driving two different cars, one of them a new 4x4, and he's 14 years old) of paying Dinho to sit next to him during the Biology test and tell him the answers (he couldn't simply look, because I made two versions). So today, before starting class, I took him into the teacher's room and told him to do the version he didn't do on Friday. I said that if he had studied, he should do a little worse, due to time and the version being a little harder, but I'd be able to determine if the work was his own.
He said, "I can't." I replied that it meant he would get a zero. He agreed, however apathetically, with the sort of attitude that it really didn't matter. In those few seconds, I think I saw an educational lifetime full of buying grades that has so desensitized him he has no stock in the education and no motivation to graduate. It's just something to keep him busy. And when I juxtapose that in my head with girls I know are capable of doing well in school but aren't taking classes because of money, it angers me.
And because Dinho helped - and I believe received quite a bit of money - I've given the two of them zeroes. Judging by their reactions, I'm 99% sure I'm correct. And maybe I should feel good about that, but I don't. I want to believe that I'm not just melting an iceberg with a candle.
No, I refuse to lose my idealism.
Maybe that's what people confuse with naivete.
Peace
John
Saturday, November 29, 2003
10/19/2003
Going out to the discoteca last night was a good idea. Eating half a chicken was probably not. Well, everyone else enjoyed it at least. That is, seeing me eat meat.
Got to hang out with the new trainees and I'm amazed by how much they're taking in stride by the 2nd week, but still how many simple questions (to a volunteer, at least) they ask. I'm starting to feel like I've been here a year, but it's easier to see that from the other side of things. I don't notice the changes as much as others do.
And there are some very interesting people among this new group, which isn't to say our group didn't amaze me. But this experience just pulls such a wide variety of people, all with stories to tell that you could spend your entire experience just getting to know the other volunteers. I find it incredible how people don't wear their experiences on their faces, but let it be discovered little by little. This mystery seems to be what makes people all the more interesting. I don't know how easily I could be wrapped up in conversation with someone I already know by detailed biography or fame.
As I have more of these experiences, I inevitably ask where all this is going, what I am leading up to by growing out of myself and finding these things in other people that I wish to have in me, too. And what all this business about being better with people will bring me - if my current goal is just to see the end of this experience. It seems to me I should be more goal-oriented in terms of external objectives. I know I want to work to help other people, but even after a year of being here, I'm still at square one, wondering how I want to go about accomplishing that goal.
Maybe this is the secret. Maybe I need to realize that as long as I've never found an answer to that question, there are more doors open to me - and possibly a goal should just be to pursue the answer to the question. Maybe in 50 years I'll be able to answer it better, but it would make for quite a dull life to know what EXACTLY I wanted to do with myself. For me.
And so maybe this is the change that comes about in so many people that causes them to change how they look at the world after Peace Corps. Instead of seeing a path in front of them that leads them to manifesting their idealism, they realize that finding the path is truly the idealism speaking. And in career/straight-line oriented America, this is hard to take and understand.
Jake and I discussed the general pathetic state of affairs in American politics, screaming over 2 year-old hip hop. Though we are somewhat ideologically different, we vehemently agreed that we need a leader with passion and level-headedness. We don't even want to vote when it comes down to a question of issues. Why should politics be about issues, when it's the government, everywhere in the world, that makes very subjective decisions. There is never a clear-cut decision - every tiny vote a legislator makes is full of subplots and political gestures.
So why do we choose leaders based upon the criteria that end up being compromised and not the criteria that really matter: patience, analytical thinking, people skills, calmness, open-mindedness, and passion for universal political ideals? I think we take the easy way out and match ourselves up ideologically because you can total them up and compare - they're tangible. You have to KNOW a person in order to judge their calmness in adverse situations.
I am by no means suggesting a political career. It just seems to make so much sense why we are so fed up with the political system. We see passion every day in the eyes of our students who want to change their community. We know they don't yet have all of the necessary skills, but they have the desire. Which is more important?
Peace
John
Got to hang out with the new trainees and I'm amazed by how much they're taking in stride by the 2nd week, but still how many simple questions (to a volunteer, at least) they ask. I'm starting to feel like I've been here a year, but it's easier to see that from the other side of things. I don't notice the changes as much as others do.
And there are some very interesting people among this new group, which isn't to say our group didn't amaze me. But this experience just pulls such a wide variety of people, all with stories to tell that you could spend your entire experience just getting to know the other volunteers. I find it incredible how people don't wear their experiences on their faces, but let it be discovered little by little. This mystery seems to be what makes people all the more interesting. I don't know how easily I could be wrapped up in conversation with someone I already know by detailed biography or fame.
As I have more of these experiences, I inevitably ask where all this is going, what I am leading up to by growing out of myself and finding these things in other people that I wish to have in me, too. And what all this business about being better with people will bring me - if my current goal is just to see the end of this experience. It seems to me I should be more goal-oriented in terms of external objectives. I know I want to work to help other people, but even after a year of being here, I'm still at square one, wondering how I want to go about accomplishing that goal.
Maybe this is the secret. Maybe I need to realize that as long as I've never found an answer to that question, there are more doors open to me - and possibly a goal should just be to pursue the answer to the question. Maybe in 50 years I'll be able to answer it better, but it would make for quite a dull life to know what EXACTLY I wanted to do with myself. For me.
And so maybe this is the change that comes about in so many people that causes them to change how they look at the world after Peace Corps. Instead of seeing a path in front of them that leads them to manifesting their idealism, they realize that finding the path is truly the idealism speaking. And in career/straight-line oriented America, this is hard to take and understand.
Jake and I discussed the general pathetic state of affairs in American politics, screaming over 2 year-old hip hop. Though we are somewhat ideologically different, we vehemently agreed that we need a leader with passion and level-headedness. We don't even want to vote when it comes down to a question of issues. Why should politics be about issues, when it's the government, everywhere in the world, that makes very subjective decisions. There is never a clear-cut decision - every tiny vote a legislator makes is full of subplots and political gestures.
So why do we choose leaders based upon the criteria that end up being compromised and not the criteria that really matter: patience, analytical thinking, people skills, calmness, open-mindedness, and passion for universal political ideals? I think we take the easy way out and match ourselves up ideologically because you can total them up and compare - they're tangible. You have to KNOW a person in order to judge their calmness in adverse situations.
I am by no means suggesting a political career. It just seems to make so much sense why we are so fed up with the political system. We see passion every day in the eyes of our students who want to change their community. We know they don't yet have all of the necessary skills, but they have the desire. Which is more important?
Peace
John
10/17/2003
Thus ends the last round of exams. Going through two weeks of this almost non-stop, I've realized how deeply this issue of desks that seat two students affects the entire educational system.
It seems like a silly thing to harp on, desks, and at worst it seems like a way to save money. If you build desks that seat two, and sometimes three, you save room in already cramped classrooms and more students are given learning opportunities. But it has an indelible effect on the entire educational system.
From the first grade, students take quizzes and tests at these 2-3 seaters, inevitably copying and sharing responses. Instead of examinations being an individual affair, they become group work and never stop being group work. It's too hard to control all of the cheating, so the teachers just accept it.
But the effects are incredible.
In another site, the entire district has single-seaters. When it comes time for tests, there are the usual cheating problems found anywhere in the world, but none of this "group work". Students study harder because they have to know the information. The teachers are more motivated to control the cheating because there is less of it. And every subject benefits.
Portuguese, the language of education, is spoken more widely and more correctly in this district. Test scores are higher, and consequently more money goes into these schools.
But here, I have many students who are unable to communicate with me in Portuguese - it's actually easier to talk to them in Changana. These are students who live in a Portuguese-speaking country, have taken Portuguese classes for at least 9 years, and have been taught in the language for just as long. The issue is not raw intelligence. The issue is that education - studying - is not required for many students. They only have to sit next to the right student, and they will appear to know the information. Large classes, of course, don't help. The teacher can never take time to figure out who cheated.
And so when I take specific measures to counteract this type of cheating, I see horrendous results. On a 20 point scale, a turma can average a 6 or 7. And within this turma, there's two or three scores in the high teens. These are the ones that understand the material. Everyone else just relies on their partner.
And so learning, in any sense, does not happen.
Sometimes I wonder if it's be better to limit enrollment so that every desk only had one student. What a different face that would put on the system!
Peace
John
It seems like a silly thing to harp on, desks, and at worst it seems like a way to save money. If you build desks that seat two, and sometimes three, you save room in already cramped classrooms and more students are given learning opportunities. But it has an indelible effect on the entire educational system.
From the first grade, students take quizzes and tests at these 2-3 seaters, inevitably copying and sharing responses. Instead of examinations being an individual affair, they become group work and never stop being group work. It's too hard to control all of the cheating, so the teachers just accept it.
But the effects are incredible.
In another site, the entire district has single-seaters. When it comes time for tests, there are the usual cheating problems found anywhere in the world, but none of this "group work". Students study harder because they have to know the information. The teachers are more motivated to control the cheating because there is less of it. And every subject benefits.
Portuguese, the language of education, is spoken more widely and more correctly in this district. Test scores are higher, and consequently more money goes into these schools.
But here, I have many students who are unable to communicate with me in Portuguese - it's actually easier to talk to them in Changana. These are students who live in a Portuguese-speaking country, have taken Portuguese classes for at least 9 years, and have been taught in the language for just as long. The issue is not raw intelligence. The issue is that education - studying - is not required for many students. They only have to sit next to the right student, and they will appear to know the information. Large classes, of course, don't help. The teacher can never take time to figure out who cheated.
And so when I take specific measures to counteract this type of cheating, I see horrendous results. On a 20 point scale, a turma can average a 6 or 7. And within this turma, there's two or three scores in the high teens. These are the ones that understand the material. Everyone else just relies on their partner.
And so learning, in any sense, does not happen.
Sometimes I wonder if it's be better to limit enrollment so that every desk only had one student. What a different face that would put on the system!
Peace
John
10/16/2003
I try to return to my spirituality.
I try to let my anger that wants to pass into violence, pass through me.
I try to let those things that frustrate me, frustrate me, but nothing more.
I try to put all of myself into every little thing I do without overworking myself.
I try to give myself time to relax.
I try to realize that I'm doing every day what I would have worked on doing for a year back home.
I try to make this world real.
I try not to forget the reality of the 1st world.
I try not to lose my passion.
I try not to lose my idealism.
I try not to be frustrated that I can't always be idealistic.
I try to make peace with things unalterable.
I try not to look at my watch so much.
I try not to ask "What if?"
I try not to worry about grammar.
I try everything.
I try understanding everyone around me.
I try making them understand me.
I try letting frustration pass through me.
I try looking at the future with one eye on the present.
I try looking at the past that way, too.
I try keeping my body as up to snuff as my mind.
I try writing every day.
I try enjoying something different every day.
I try to explain why.
I am just trying to help.
Peace
John
I try to let my anger that wants to pass into violence, pass through me.
I try to let those things that frustrate me, frustrate me, but nothing more.
I try to put all of myself into every little thing I do without overworking myself.
I try to give myself time to relax.
I try to realize that I'm doing every day what I would have worked on doing for a year back home.
I try to make this world real.
I try not to forget the reality of the 1st world.
I try not to lose my passion.
I try not to lose my idealism.
I try not to be frustrated that I can't always be idealistic.
I try to make peace with things unalterable.
I try not to look at my watch so much.
I try not to ask "What if?"
I try not to worry about grammar.
I try everything.
I try understanding everyone around me.
I try making them understand me.
I try letting frustration pass through me.
I try looking at the future with one eye on the present.
I try looking at the past that way, too.
I try keeping my body as up to snuff as my mind.
I try writing every day.
I try enjoying something different every day.
I try to explain why.
I am just trying to help.
Peace
John
10/15/2003
I met a man, Carlos, from World Relief. He is a pastor at a local church, and though he spoke to me about empowering children, he also spoke to me about teaching morality. Very bluntly, he said there must be moral education.
I said that how education tends to happen here is that the teacher will simply give a fact and the students are expected to accept this fact. And they do. But I said that I don't agree with this system because the only way you learn is if you are given a choice to accept information as right or wrong, at least as far as morality goes.
For instance, abortion. I read a pamphlet today that detailed every week of pregnancy. It was produced to give the fetus very human-like characteristics because it spoke only of how much like the fetus is to being human, and not how alien it really is until a certain point. One reading this pamphlet would not realize the bias unless they had had previous information. They would almost certainly be anti-abortion, or similarly, pro-condom - use.
And so, when I finished saying that morality needs to be objectively taught (and I did NOT illustrate it with the abortion example), there was only silence from a very talkative man.
I took that to mean he didn't agree. I can't say I was surprised - part of me was looking for a fight. My students, when I take the objective road instead of the much kinder subjective road in terms of bending rules, often ask me if I pray. I've made a habit to quickly say "No" and anticipate their response, saying "Yes, and I'm going to hell." It angers me every time that they're taught to think this way - they don't know WHY not praying will send them to hell, but they accept it completely. This is not morality. Morality is a conscious decision.
And so I continued with Carlos, saying that morality is individual. I said that I can respect someone's morality if they have personally developed it within themselves, even if I completely disagree with it.
He finally responded saying that we need to find the truth. I countered, saying that if we ever found it, we would realize that there is in fact no truth. He disagreed. He wants to find the one truth with me.
He started to speak of God. He is interested in an educated perspective because he has argued the following for a long time: You cannot say God is in the moon, because then where does that leave the sun? And not the sun to spite the stars. And not the stars...
And then he hit on my point exactly: And God being everywhere...
"That would mean that God is nowhere and doesn't exist" I said.
He agreed, "Yes, how ridiculous!"
Peace
John
I said that how education tends to happen here is that the teacher will simply give a fact and the students are expected to accept this fact. And they do. But I said that I don't agree with this system because the only way you learn is if you are given a choice to accept information as right or wrong, at least as far as morality goes.
For instance, abortion. I read a pamphlet today that detailed every week of pregnancy. It was produced to give the fetus very human-like characteristics because it spoke only of how much like the fetus is to being human, and not how alien it really is until a certain point. One reading this pamphlet would not realize the bias unless they had had previous information. They would almost certainly be anti-abortion, or similarly, pro-condom - use.
And so, when I finished saying that morality needs to be objectively taught (and I did NOT illustrate it with the abortion example), there was only silence from a very talkative man.
I took that to mean he didn't agree. I can't say I was surprised - part of me was looking for a fight. My students, when I take the objective road instead of the much kinder subjective road in terms of bending rules, often ask me if I pray. I've made a habit to quickly say "No" and anticipate their response, saying "Yes, and I'm going to hell." It angers me every time that they're taught to think this way - they don't know WHY not praying will send them to hell, but they accept it completely. This is not morality. Morality is a conscious decision.
And so I continued with Carlos, saying that morality is individual. I said that I can respect someone's morality if they have personally developed it within themselves, even if I completely disagree with it.
He finally responded saying that we need to find the truth. I countered, saying that if we ever found it, we would realize that there is in fact no truth. He disagreed. He wants to find the one truth with me.
He started to speak of God. He is interested in an educated perspective because he has argued the following for a long time: You cannot say God is in the moon, because then where does that leave the sun? And not the sun to spite the stars. And not the stars...
And then he hit on my point exactly: And God being everywhere...
"That would mean that God is nowhere and doesn't exist" I said.
He agreed, "Yes, how ridiculous!"
Peace
John
10/14/2003
There's a nice big thunderstorm tonight. Off to the west, you can see bolts of yellow on the horizon, silent. To the south, there are white dancers, known only by their reflection in the clouds. From the east are the rumblers - you see a strike and a few seconds later what sounds like a heavy truck lumbering by. And every once in a while, you're blessed with an overhead cloud-to-cloud connection. Noiseless, but it lights up the entire neighborhood.
What's wonderful is that every once in a while it will knock the power out for a few minutes, leaving every strike hanging for a moment on the eyes. Intellectually, the idea that unharnessed electricity can show its mastery over supposedly well-controlled electricity is exciting and a real slap in the face to technology. In the end, nature will win.
Every electrical storm brings back a flood of memories - from my father's house burning down to every thunderstorm since, wondering at the marvel of such brilliant and random power.
And as the storm approaches, you can hear the wind pick up the head leaves while the rain starts little by little, each sound masking the other. It's dramatic, but you never know whether the storm is going to hit with its full force or not, so it is often anticlimactic.
A good way to spend a night.
Peace
John
What's wonderful is that every once in a while it will knock the power out for a few minutes, leaving every strike hanging for a moment on the eyes. Intellectually, the idea that unharnessed electricity can show its mastery over supposedly well-controlled electricity is exciting and a real slap in the face to technology. In the end, nature will win.
Every electrical storm brings back a flood of memories - from my father's house burning down to every thunderstorm since, wondering at the marvel of such brilliant and random power.
And as the storm approaches, you can hear the wind pick up the head leaves while the rain starts little by little, each sound masking the other. It's dramatic, but you never know whether the storm is going to hit with its full force or not, so it is often anticlimactic.
A good way to spend a night.
Peace
John
10/13/2003
I proctored the Portuguese final today. The students asked me to explain the questions - it was then I realized that I know more Portuguese than they do, not because of usage or intelligence, but because I know how to study - and how to learn.
Unfortunately, I don't know how to teach someone how to learn. I need to work on that.
Peace
John
Unfortunately, I don't know how to teach someone how to learn. I need to work on that.
Peace
John
10/12/2003
Yesterday I woke up and played a much better game of volleyball than when I played a few months back.
A few months back - I've been in Mozambique for over a year now.
But before I even got to play volleyball at 8 AM, about 20 of my students begged me to give an impromptu lesson answering some of the questions I have as review. I was surprised at their determination, but they still sat there and copied down what I said. Most of them, at least. The better students just sat there and helped answer questions and asked better ones. An 11th grader even showed up to ask a genetics question. Hmmm...Saturday reviews. I wonder if it would catch on? I wonder if I would be up for it. Worth putting on the list of things to do for next year. And if I have 10th grade, I'm going to need to review 8th and 9th grade with them . What better way to do it?
Wow, only one more school year.
And then at about 7 PM last night, the festivities began. Today is Teacher's Day in Mozambique and the party here started last night. A huge dinner, cooked by students and the female teachers, with plenty of beer and other tasty beverages. An ample stereo system was on hand and very spirited dancing was under way before long. Teachers and wives and children all got their fill and by the time I left well-buzzed at 1:30 AM, most of the people were still going.
I get to do this again next year!
Got up at 8 something to do to the official Teacher's Day ceremonies, and got mildly pushed into helping a skit. I made a cameo as a drunk, spitting out Changana and being...obnoxious. Needless to say, it was well-received. I miss performing, but I realize that isn't the reason I'm here. Anyway, immediately afterward, we went back to school to finish off the food and beer.
Is this really the epitome of my experience - partying hard with educators?
We tried to finish off the beer, and in so doing, I ate a tremendous amount of chicken for someone who still calls himself a vegetarian. And as more beer was consumed, less Portuguese and more Chagana was spoken. Once it was at about 95% Changana, I gave up and crawled home. Good practice, but there's only so much foreign language learning I can take.
Can I really learn two languages at the same time?
I ended up napping on the couch, awakened at about 5:30 PM by Blake wondering if I wanted to have dinner with the Canadians. Charles offered me Coke and whiskey, which was actually a good transition to detoxification.
I get filled with excitement and wonder about the future when I allow myself to think about what things will be like in a year - then I remember that it's a year away and where I was a year ago...
Peace
John
A few months back - I've been in Mozambique for over a year now.
But before I even got to play volleyball at 8 AM, about 20 of my students begged me to give an impromptu lesson answering some of the questions I have as review. I was surprised at their determination, but they still sat there and copied down what I said. Most of them, at least. The better students just sat there and helped answer questions and asked better ones. An 11th grader even showed up to ask a genetics question. Hmmm...Saturday reviews. I wonder if it would catch on? I wonder if I would be up for it. Worth putting on the list of things to do for next year. And if I have 10th grade, I'm going to need to review 8th and 9th grade with them . What better way to do it?
Wow, only one more school year.
And then at about 7 PM last night, the festivities began. Today is Teacher's Day in Mozambique and the party here started last night. A huge dinner, cooked by students and the female teachers, with plenty of beer and other tasty beverages. An ample stereo system was on hand and very spirited dancing was under way before long. Teachers and wives and children all got their fill and by the time I left well-buzzed at 1:30 AM, most of the people were still going.
I get to do this again next year!
Got up at 8 something to do to the official Teacher's Day ceremonies, and got mildly pushed into helping a skit. I made a cameo as a drunk, spitting out Changana and being...obnoxious. Needless to say, it was well-received. I miss performing, but I realize that isn't the reason I'm here. Anyway, immediately afterward, we went back to school to finish off the food and beer.
Is this really the epitome of my experience - partying hard with educators?
We tried to finish off the beer, and in so doing, I ate a tremendous amount of chicken for someone who still calls himself a vegetarian. And as more beer was consumed, less Portuguese and more Chagana was spoken. Once it was at about 95% Changana, I gave up and crawled home. Good practice, but there's only so much foreign language learning I can take.
Can I really learn two languages at the same time?
I ended up napping on the couch, awakened at about 5:30 PM by Blake wondering if I wanted to have dinner with the Canadians. Charles offered me Coke and whiskey, which was actually a good transition to detoxification.
I get filled with excitement and wonder about the future when I allow myself to think about what things will be like in a year - then I remember that it's a year away and where I was a year ago...
Peace
John
10/10/2003
Words of hatred to my ears appeared to be words of truth.
I think it's a real problem that I judge myself in the way I do. I really just figured out that I truly judge myself by how others view me - well, maybe it's just that I finally admitted it. I think part of me wanted to believe that I could overcome that and not be dependent on the opinions of others. But I hopelessly am.
And so when others see me as the big, bad white guy - and I'll explain the truth in that - then I feel like shit.
Though I know they joke with me and try to push my buttons, there's brutal truth found in anonymity. When students are missing from my classes, say 20 or so, the class is a whole lot easier to handle, no matter who the 20 are who are gone. There's this power in numbers that reaches a critical point somewhere around 40 or 45 where you can go ahead and completely ream out the teacher and there's almost nothing justifiable the teacher can do.
And even when some students are alone, they think that you can't tell you're being poked and prodded - and there's still no recourse.
Come to think of it, this is much like my own high school experience - very much alone and continually emotionally berated because of this necessity to judge myself based on how others think. And so to compensate for what I feel I must do on principle, I work extra hard outside the lines to try and improve people's opinions of me - to the bone, sometimes. I say that I don't care what others think, but even that is to improve the idea that others have about my self-confidence (but I won't get into the idea that self-confidence is completely illusory in anyone). I undersell myself because I want to be seen as humble and I know that it makes more of an impression on someone if they find something out about me on their own.
But I shoot myself in the foot when I can't decide when to stand on principle and when to try and improve others' opinions of me - because that same conflict exists inside of myself. And I've seen this as a problem for some years now, but I don't think I've ever put all of myself into trying to solve it. Simply because I know how I should be, and it keeps on superficially covering up the problem underneath. Which is that I need the approval of others.
Or is it?
Maybe the problem really is that I see this as a problem. That I don't embrace this piece of myself and end up in conflict. That I don't want to admit to others that I'm as vulnerable as I am because it's not an American quality to be allowed to be judged by others. And not acceptable by Mozambican standards either, least of all a professor be judged by his students.
And so when I expose myself, I don't get the reaction I need, which is an open mind and open ears and understanding of what I'm trying to do, but merely a punching bag (and why that is is still beyond me). Sure, there are a few students who make the effort and forgive me for punishing the larger group because of those who I can't single out. But even they don't understand me and they go along with the abuse because they think it doesn't hurt me - why would I be here if it did? And why should they strive to understand me? They think that they already do. They listen to American music, watch American movies - they're inundated with unfortunately representative culture. As Americans think they know what Africans are like, because we need Africans to be financially poor but spiritually strong, traditional and driven by culture. We expect Africans to be opposite of Americans because we don't want to believe our vices are human nature but instead are something reparable with changing an ideal or two. The truth is, Africans - Mozambicans - have spirituality and tradition that transcends anything an American can conceive of. They have religion that Europeans and Americans brought and it poisons their spirituality. There are more rich Africans than you'd think, but it's because the Western world dumps money on the continent and the ones in power become corrupt - simply because they grew up poor and want to not be poor any more.
And so my point, which is quite a ways away at this stage, is that I wanted to, and almost did, punch Dinho tonight because I ran out of ways to deal with the way I'm treated by the students. He doesn't understand me and doesn't seek to understand me. He is one of the many.
I spend endless hours trying to understand my students in order to teach them better, and not only should I not expect the same from them, but maybe I shouldn't want it.
Which leaves me back where I started. Vulnerable.
Peace
John
I think it's a real problem that I judge myself in the way I do. I really just figured out that I truly judge myself by how others view me - well, maybe it's just that I finally admitted it. I think part of me wanted to believe that I could overcome that and not be dependent on the opinions of others. But I hopelessly am.
And so when others see me as the big, bad white guy - and I'll explain the truth in that - then I feel like shit.
Though I know they joke with me and try to push my buttons, there's brutal truth found in anonymity. When students are missing from my classes, say 20 or so, the class is a whole lot easier to handle, no matter who the 20 are who are gone. There's this power in numbers that reaches a critical point somewhere around 40 or 45 where you can go ahead and completely ream out the teacher and there's almost nothing justifiable the teacher can do.
And even when some students are alone, they think that you can't tell you're being poked and prodded - and there's still no recourse.
Come to think of it, this is much like my own high school experience - very much alone and continually emotionally berated because of this necessity to judge myself based on how others think. And so to compensate for what I feel I must do on principle, I work extra hard outside the lines to try and improve people's opinions of me - to the bone, sometimes. I say that I don't care what others think, but even that is to improve the idea that others have about my self-confidence (but I won't get into the idea that self-confidence is completely illusory in anyone). I undersell myself because I want to be seen as humble and I know that it makes more of an impression on someone if they find something out about me on their own.
But I shoot myself in the foot when I can't decide when to stand on principle and when to try and improve others' opinions of me - because that same conflict exists inside of myself. And I've seen this as a problem for some years now, but I don't think I've ever put all of myself into trying to solve it. Simply because I know how I should be, and it keeps on superficially covering up the problem underneath. Which is that I need the approval of others.
Or is it?
Maybe the problem really is that I see this as a problem. That I don't embrace this piece of myself and end up in conflict. That I don't want to admit to others that I'm as vulnerable as I am because it's not an American quality to be allowed to be judged by others. And not acceptable by Mozambican standards either, least of all a professor be judged by his students.
And so when I expose myself, I don't get the reaction I need, which is an open mind and open ears and understanding of what I'm trying to do, but merely a punching bag (and why that is is still beyond me). Sure, there are a few students who make the effort and forgive me for punishing the larger group because of those who I can't single out. But even they don't understand me and they go along with the abuse because they think it doesn't hurt me - why would I be here if it did? And why should they strive to understand me? They think that they already do. They listen to American music, watch American movies - they're inundated with unfortunately representative culture. As Americans think they know what Africans are like, because we need Africans to be financially poor but spiritually strong, traditional and driven by culture. We expect Africans to be opposite of Americans because we don't want to believe our vices are human nature but instead are something reparable with changing an ideal or two. The truth is, Africans - Mozambicans - have spirituality and tradition that transcends anything an American can conceive of. They have religion that Europeans and Americans brought and it poisons their spirituality. There are more rich Africans than you'd think, but it's because the Western world dumps money on the continent and the ones in power become corrupt - simply because they grew up poor and want to not be poor any more.
And so my point, which is quite a ways away at this stage, is that I wanted to, and almost did, punch Dinho tonight because I ran out of ways to deal with the way I'm treated by the students. He doesn't understand me and doesn't seek to understand me. He is one of the many.
I spend endless hours trying to understand my students in order to teach them better, and not only should I not expect the same from them, but maybe I shouldn't want it.
Which leaves me back where I started. Vulnerable.
Peace
John
10/09/2003
The proctoring this morning went as expected. That is to say, difficult. But nothing out of the ordinary.
I got in a weird mood and started "shocking" my students with a vibrating pen Dirt Devil sent me (bet they never thought of that!), but all in good fun. Then, as I went to my last class, the weird mood ended and I just wanted to be done with the day. I put questions on the board for my youngest class, turned towards them and waited. They never stood to compliment me - which seems quite vain, but it's the norm and also respectful - not to mention the rule. So I simply stood there for 40 minutes, silent and motionless. At the end, I announced that they had earned a collective absence for not complimenting me (and additionally for saying quite a few things while my back was turned that were quite inappropriate).
Leaving the room, they started chanting the Changana word for "colonist" at me. They know that I speak a little, so it was half play, half anger.
Thus, my initiation as a white teacher in Africa is complete.
Peace
John
I got in a weird mood and started "shocking" my students with a vibrating pen Dirt Devil sent me (bet they never thought of that!), but all in good fun. Then, as I went to my last class, the weird mood ended and I just wanted to be done with the day. I put questions on the board for my youngest class, turned towards them and waited. They never stood to compliment me - which seems quite vain, but it's the norm and also respectful - not to mention the rule. So I simply stood there for 40 minutes, silent and motionless. At the end, I announced that they had earned a collective absence for not complimenting me (and additionally for saying quite a few things while my back was turned that were quite inappropriate).
Leaving the room, they started chanting the Changana word for "colonist" at me. They know that I speak a little, so it was half play, half anger.
Thus, my initiation as a white teacher in Africa is complete.
Peace
John
10/08/2003
I left the house at 8 AM. I was about 10 minutes down the road when my pocket started ringing (that's right, I took the phone today for the first time in a long time). Mid-stride, I took the phone out of my pocket and looked at the number.
"That's strange - local number but not in our address book." I answered and it was Laurenzo. Where was I? I needed to come to school immediately to proctor an exam. But I switched exams with another teacher, I told him. He knew, but there had been some confusion apparently.
In my T-shirt and sandals, I walked the five minutes to school. Do not pass home, do not collect your wits.
(See, proctoring exams when you're the only white guy and you keep a very tight ship compared with the other teachers in terms of cracking down on cheating, requires you to collect yourself beforehand.)
So I arrived at school and was graciously handed the tests for the turma I had proctored on Monday. I left my hat in the office.
Arriving in the classroom at 8:20 AM, I was greeted with screams and yells in many languages, telling me to leave. I didn't open my mouth. I sat down at the desk in front and just stared at them with as blank an expression on my face as I could muster at such a moment. I've actually learned how to enjoy moments like this, but I knew showing any emotion would make things worse, if that were possible.
Four minutes later, Agostinho, kind of my associate-boss at school, stormed in and started to try and berate the class. He started yelling over them, and they finally quieted down enough for him to be heard. He called on the chefe of the turma to speak about why the class was behaving so poorly. The chefe said that it was unfair that I should proctor their class twice in the same testing period. Agostinho saw through to the truth very quickly: they just wanted to get away with cheating. He got very angry. He told me to wait in the office and told the class that they might all receive zeroes.
In the office, I calmly walked in to find Laurenzo talking with another teacher. Laurenzo worriedly asked me why I was back with all of the tests.
I told him why.
A minute later, we were on the warpath back to the room, blank paper in hand. I commented to Laurenzo "You know, I'm used to this now." He changed the subject quickly.
Laurenzo has this presence that's not quite apparent when you walk into the office until he directs his attention to you. It's as if he wants you to know that you have his full attention even though you can tell he's doing other work in his head. The point is, you know immediately that you can tell him the complete truth because he wants to hear it and you appreciate quick action because you know he's busy.
When he walks into a classroom, this same presence transforms into calculating control - and the students recognize his power immediately.
So when we walked into the room, with Agostinho this time, there was silence before Laurenzo could open his mouth. He grabbed the blank pieces of paper and explained that every student who didn't want to take the test would have to justify their actions on the piece of paper.
Clearly, and very well planned, there were no justifications. Laurenzo then made the logical conclusion that all must want to take the test - and if they would like to do so, it must be with me proctoring.
At 8:40, we finally began. We cut 20 minutes off the one-hour time limit and students not in uniform were made to go and get them. On his way out, Laurenzo said that I would continue to proctor this class for the rest of the week.
I thought he was bluffing, but he called tonight to make sure I was available tomorrow morning. The students already hate me, now they're going to want to have my head.
Should be...interesting.
Peace
John
"That's strange - local number but not in our address book." I answered and it was Laurenzo. Where was I? I needed to come to school immediately to proctor an exam. But I switched exams with another teacher, I told him. He knew, but there had been some confusion apparently.
In my T-shirt and sandals, I walked the five minutes to school. Do not pass home, do not collect your wits.
(See, proctoring exams when you're the only white guy and you keep a very tight ship compared with the other teachers in terms of cracking down on cheating, requires you to collect yourself beforehand.)
So I arrived at school and was graciously handed the tests for the turma I had proctored on Monday. I left my hat in the office.
Arriving in the classroom at 8:20 AM, I was greeted with screams and yells in many languages, telling me to leave. I didn't open my mouth. I sat down at the desk in front and just stared at them with as blank an expression on my face as I could muster at such a moment. I've actually learned how to enjoy moments like this, but I knew showing any emotion would make things worse, if that were possible.
Four minutes later, Agostinho, kind of my associate-boss at school, stormed in and started to try and berate the class. He started yelling over them, and they finally quieted down enough for him to be heard. He called on the chefe of the turma to speak about why the class was behaving so poorly. The chefe said that it was unfair that I should proctor their class twice in the same testing period. Agostinho saw through to the truth very quickly: they just wanted to get away with cheating. He got very angry. He told me to wait in the office and told the class that they might all receive zeroes.
In the office, I calmly walked in to find Laurenzo talking with another teacher. Laurenzo worriedly asked me why I was back with all of the tests.
I told him why.
A minute later, we were on the warpath back to the room, blank paper in hand. I commented to Laurenzo "You know, I'm used to this now." He changed the subject quickly.
Laurenzo has this presence that's not quite apparent when you walk into the office until he directs his attention to you. It's as if he wants you to know that you have his full attention even though you can tell he's doing other work in his head. The point is, you know immediately that you can tell him the complete truth because he wants to hear it and you appreciate quick action because you know he's busy.
When he walks into a classroom, this same presence transforms into calculating control - and the students recognize his power immediately.
So when we walked into the room, with Agostinho this time, there was silence before Laurenzo could open his mouth. He grabbed the blank pieces of paper and explained that every student who didn't want to take the test would have to justify their actions on the piece of paper.
Clearly, and very well planned, there were no justifications. Laurenzo then made the logical conclusion that all must want to take the test - and if they would like to do so, it must be with me proctoring.
At 8:40, we finally began. We cut 20 minutes off the one-hour time limit and students not in uniform were made to go and get them. On his way out, Laurenzo said that I would continue to proctor this class for the rest of the week.
I thought he was bluffing, but he called tonight to make sure I was available tomorrow morning. The students already hate me, now they're going to want to have my head.
Should be...interesting.
Peace
John
10/07/2003
Finished "Dune". Good book. Highly recommend it.
I find it interesting how people tend to work so predictably as if our culture programs us so specifically as to make similar reactions to similar stimuli seem eerie.
Deep breaths today - I can feel many story lines in my life coming to a head very quickly. It's quite exciting.
Peace
John
I find it interesting how people tend to work so predictably as if our culture programs us so specifically as to make similar reactions to similar stimuli seem eerie.
Deep breaths today - I can feel many story lines in my life coming to a head very quickly. It's quite exciting.
Peace
John
10/06/2003
One busy teaching day. I controlled an exam (proctored I should say) in the morning - I should have proctored two - taught 5 review sessions for the upcoming final, then taught two 9-minute English classes. Started at 8 AM and ended at 9 PM. Still had time to think about a good analogy, though.
It seems like education is a puzzle. It starts as a pile of colored wood and ends up a beautiful painting of some sort. The pile of colored wood is the collection of ideas and the finished puzzle is the arrangement of these ideas when connections are made properly.
Education - or the piecing together of the puzzle - in Mozambique seems to be an exercise in taking two pieces, demonstrating how they fit together, and making sure the student knows how they fit together. The student copies what the teacher did and slowly builds a puzzle in this manner.
But nobody does puzzles this way.
What I'm trying to do is introduce a level of abstraction - I'm trying to show the students why certain pieces fit together. Sometimes I'll use example pieces to demonstrate my point, but my overall goal is to teach mastery of the concept of "why" the pieces fit together...then bring out from the student which pieces fit with which others. But this last step I feel needs to be left with the student, or they never know what they truly know, by proving it to themselves. My point is that a learner in the first group will be dumbstruck when presented with a corner piece because it is different and doesn't fit a known scheme - even though it is much easier to place in the puzzle. A learner in the second group knows that a corner piece reduces the work necessary to fit it in by two, though they have no idea exactly where it should go. But they will never hit a dead end. This is important - they may, on the average, have a harder time deriving a simple fact, but they will never meet a problem they can't dissect and resolve.
My advanced English class derived a rule for superlatives and comparatives from the examples I gave them. It was intellectually stimulating for them in addition to being great practice. Good day.
Peace
John
It seems like education is a puzzle. It starts as a pile of colored wood and ends up a beautiful painting of some sort. The pile of colored wood is the collection of ideas and the finished puzzle is the arrangement of these ideas when connections are made properly.
Education - or the piecing together of the puzzle - in Mozambique seems to be an exercise in taking two pieces, demonstrating how they fit together, and making sure the student knows how they fit together. The student copies what the teacher did and slowly builds a puzzle in this manner.
But nobody does puzzles this way.
What I'm trying to do is introduce a level of abstraction - I'm trying to show the students why certain pieces fit together. Sometimes I'll use example pieces to demonstrate my point, but my overall goal is to teach mastery of the concept of "why" the pieces fit together...then bring out from the student which pieces fit with which others. But this last step I feel needs to be left with the student, or they never know what they truly know, by proving it to themselves. My point is that a learner in the first group will be dumbstruck when presented with a corner piece because it is different and doesn't fit a known scheme - even though it is much easier to place in the puzzle. A learner in the second group knows that a corner piece reduces the work necessary to fit it in by two, though they have no idea exactly where it should go. But they will never hit a dead end. This is important - they may, on the average, have a harder time deriving a simple fact, but they will never meet a problem they can't dissect and resolve.
My advanced English class derived a rule for superlatives and comparatives from the examples I gave them. It was intellectually stimulating for them in addition to being great practice. Good day.
Peace
John
10/05/2003
My students are often helpful, but often equally mysterious. I crossed a river by boat with two of them and at the end, they didn't pay for the crossing. They said it was because they are students that they don't need to pay. There really didn't seem to be a better reason, but I was wondering why I had to, as their teacher.
Visiting Jesse and Zach this weekend was a good time. They have a nice, fairly isolated home in a very quiet area. They've really just settled in, getting electricity all hooked up recently and getting things squared away with their embrogada. They've got plenty of room and little furniture, but it's really just a matter of time before that gets remedied.
Really, they don't know what to do with themselves with all the free time they've made for themselves. Now that they're in the routine of biking a large hill to and from school, buying food every day, etc., they're realizing they need hobbies. Interesting that we all get to that point at different moments of our time here.
They seem fairly close with their community - it's helpful that their community is small and isolated. But they are regularly invited to parties around town and generally have adopted a more Mozambican way of life. Also, they don't get cellular phone service where they live which surprisingly has a pretty significant impact on their social lives. All in all, they are inseparable.
Well, I think my little experiment worked well, but it seems obvious that only talking about others really reduces the impact of the personal experience and growth - I definitely need to think outside of myself more, and it's a gradual thing. Nothing that one half-assed attempt (I still ended up writing from my perspective) can change. It's got to be every day, looking at the world a little differently.
Word has it Nelson Mandela might be in the area soon. Visited the HIV/AIDS hospital today. Got a sunburn walking about 5 miles today.
Peace
John
Visiting Jesse and Zach this weekend was a good time. They have a nice, fairly isolated home in a very quiet area. They've really just settled in, getting electricity all hooked up recently and getting things squared away with their embrogada. They've got plenty of room and little furniture, but it's really just a matter of time before that gets remedied.
Really, they don't know what to do with themselves with all the free time they've made for themselves. Now that they're in the routine of biking a large hill to and from school, buying food every day, etc., they're realizing they need hobbies. Interesting that we all get to that point at different moments of our time here.
They seem fairly close with their community - it's helpful that their community is small and isolated. But they are regularly invited to parties around town and generally have adopted a more Mozambican way of life. Also, they don't get cellular phone service where they live which surprisingly has a pretty significant impact on their social lives. All in all, they are inseparable.
Well, I think my little experiment worked well, but it seems obvious that only talking about others really reduces the impact of the personal experience and growth - I definitely need to think outside of myself more, and it's a gradual thing. Nothing that one half-assed attempt (I still ended up writing from my perspective) can change. It's got to be every day, looking at the world a little differently.
Word has it Nelson Mandela might be in the area soon. Visited the HIV/AIDS hospital today. Got a sunburn walking about 5 miles today.
Peace
John
10/02/2003
One year.
Nimi came by today. He's so random and enthusiastic. He asks about every vendor's family and I think he actually keeps track of it all. Maybe it's because he spent some childhood time in Africa, so he's in tune with it, but it's really quite something. He seems perfectly at home waiting for a ride on the curb or buying chickens in the market. He knows patience in a store, in the market or out on the town. And I mean he KNOWS patience. There doesn't seem to be an ounce of him that wants to hurry the situation any more than it needs to be done.
Peace
John
Nimi came by today. He's so random and enthusiastic. He asks about every vendor's family and I think he actually keeps track of it all. Maybe it's because he spent some childhood time in Africa, so he's in tune with it, but it's really quite something. He seems perfectly at home waiting for a ride on the curb or buying chickens in the market. He knows patience in a store, in the market or out on the town. And I mean he KNOWS patience. There doesn't seem to be an ounce of him that wants to hurry the situation any more than it needs to be done.
Peace
John
10/01/2003
Dela, fikia. "The woman who works in the room with the turma books", has a lot of time on her hands. Because her entire job consists of ringing the bell (due to energy issues, now is a lead pipe and steel rod), and watching over chalk and aforementioned books. So she becomes everyone's best friend and the center of the gossip circle. She has her own opinion about everything and will let you know if you give her 5 minutes. She'll take care of your baby if you've got to teach (or attend) classes, pass along all sorts of information, tell you exactly where any teacher is at any moment, defend you when you've been wronged, be a gentle and comforting ear - in a word, indispensable. I hesitate to say (but shouldn't) that she might be more useful to the school than some of the teachers. I think she was more useful than I was the first few weeks I was teaching. I was a dumb lump speaking a language few understood. She was the judge in the middle of everything, making sure I understood exactly what was going on.
Luis, one of the neighborhood kids, greets me every time I see him with "Where's the frisbee you were going to give me?" He's tiny but has some of the meanest throws you've seen a kid launch, and then he jumps around chasing imaginary friends and being generally aloof. Incredible.
Isac, another one from the neighborhood, stumbled into one of my outdoor lessons once. He quietly watched what was going on, then, pushing his toy wire-frame semi, he started to ask me how everything was going. He's genuinely interested in other people and greets me with a knowing smile every time we meet.
Samuel, aka Jerry, is on the other end of the age scale, but still seems to have the same interest. Though it's been tainted by alcohol. He was let go by my school this past month because he accumulated too many absences. Dela said he'd show up reeking of alcohol and admit he was in no condition to teach, but did not want to be marked absent. He hasn't been seen around in a while.
Alfred, the new English teacher in place of Jerry, has thankfully not taken up his habit. In fact, Alfred has an education in teaching English...
Peace
John
Luis, one of the neighborhood kids, greets me every time I see him with "Where's the frisbee you were going to give me?" He's tiny but has some of the meanest throws you've seen a kid launch, and then he jumps around chasing imaginary friends and being generally aloof. Incredible.
Isac, another one from the neighborhood, stumbled into one of my outdoor lessons once. He quietly watched what was going on, then, pushing his toy wire-frame semi, he started to ask me how everything was going. He's genuinely interested in other people and greets me with a knowing smile every time we meet.
Samuel, aka Jerry, is on the other end of the age scale, but still seems to have the same interest. Though it's been tainted by alcohol. He was let go by my school this past month because he accumulated too many absences. Dela said he'd show up reeking of alcohol and admit he was in no condition to teach, but did not want to be marked absent. He hasn't been seen around in a while.
Alfred, the new English teacher in place of Jerry, has thankfully not taken up his habit. In fact, Alfred has an education in teaching English...
Peace
John
09/30/2003
Every so often, Violeta comes over from her house next door to sit down on the ground and have Albertina do her hair. They speak in Changana every so often about random topics, but mostly it's silence interrupted only by the rough brushing of hair. Violeta maintains a calm, collected demeanor, fooling around with her fingernails or something else mindless. Every so often, she'll fall asleep because of the massage she's receiving through the wrestling of her hair. Albertina just keeps on tugging away, just as automatically but not without intention and care. It's a ritual, for sure, and can be seen indoors and out at any time of day.
And then there's Cesar. He's a very passionate, optimistic, idealistic man, but unfortunately has a habit of talking without...stopping. He came over today and managed to do just that for about half an hour. He's got some great ideas about HIV/AIDS projects and is incredibly motivated to get funding for them, but he needs to learn how to take things one step at a time.
Dona Flora, one of the women at the market, always speaks Changana to me. Today we spoke about the usual - weather, family, health. But today I had a request to borrow a Changana book. She furtively grabbed the book so nobody could see - hidden among rice sacks in her stall - and made sure she passed it to me with care. She said she was afraid of the other ladies stealing it. She's funny - a mother of at least two children, but she admits to being lazy and acts like a little kid quite often. But she's got a bona fide heart of gold.
And then there are my students. There is a certain collective consciousness they have. They want to be told what to think and when to spit it back out...and how. They want their papers to be neat, their notebooks well taken care of, but they don't care as much about the actual content of said papers and notebooks. They were only ever told to keep everything neat, not be critical about what they're told. They are used to a couple of major learning styles, but adapt to new styles amazingly quickly. However, they have problems in assimilating information in different ways. They are generally enthusiastic about new information when it is accessible - relevancy doesn't seem to matter. As long as it can be understood, the Mozambican student is typically excited by the information. They're motivated.
Among these students are the wise-asses who keep any lesson light but are always dancing the line between being a big help, and getting kicked out; the smart kids who want to answer every single question (but I don't let them); the smart kids who take Mark Twain's advice: "Better to remain silent and appear stupid than to open your mouth and remove all doubt"; the kids who try REALLY hard, but only rarely does it "click"; the kids who are of average aptitude for Biology and only speak when called on; and the kids who are still learning Portuguese and whose presence continually awes me. All in the same room, 5 days a week, 5 hours a day.
Peace
John
And then there's Cesar. He's a very passionate, optimistic, idealistic man, but unfortunately has a habit of talking without...stopping. He came over today and managed to do just that for about half an hour. He's got some great ideas about HIV/AIDS projects and is incredibly motivated to get funding for them, but he needs to learn how to take things one step at a time.
Dona Flora, one of the women at the market, always speaks Changana to me. Today we spoke about the usual - weather, family, health. But today I had a request to borrow a Changana book. She furtively grabbed the book so nobody could see - hidden among rice sacks in her stall - and made sure she passed it to me with care. She said she was afraid of the other ladies stealing it. She's funny - a mother of at least two children, but she admits to being lazy and acts like a little kid quite often. But she's got a bona fide heart of gold.
And then there are my students. There is a certain collective consciousness they have. They want to be told what to think and when to spit it back out...and how. They want their papers to be neat, their notebooks well taken care of, but they don't care as much about the actual content of said papers and notebooks. They were only ever told to keep everything neat, not be critical about what they're told. They are used to a couple of major learning styles, but adapt to new styles amazingly quickly. However, they have problems in assimilating information in different ways. They are generally enthusiastic about new information when it is accessible - relevancy doesn't seem to matter. As long as it can be understood, the Mozambican student is typically excited by the information. They're motivated.
Among these students are the wise-asses who keep any lesson light but are always dancing the line between being a big help, and getting kicked out; the smart kids who want to answer every single question (but I don't let them); the smart kids who take Mark Twain's advice: "Better to remain silent and appear stupid than to open your mouth and remove all doubt"; the kids who try REALLY hard, but only rarely does it "click"; the kids who are of average aptitude for Biology and only speak when called on; and the kids who are still learning Portuguese and whose presence continually awes me. All in the same room, 5 days a week, 5 hours a day.
Peace
John
09/29/2003
One of my best students today showed up with new, change-in-the-sunlight glasses. He's one of my activists and better students. During class, he got very mad at me for not accepting his homework, to the point of practically yelling at me. He passed a note to one of his neighbors: "The American doesn't get on well with the African. Example: The Biology of the Secondary School and the students of 9th grade." He's usually a good kid. Now he's going to write an essay for me on how I can "get along better" with them.
The advanced students in my English classes are wonderfully smart and inquisitive. They asked me questions until 9:20 tonight, absorbing almost everything I threw at them. One of them is a major kiss-up and a little too smart for his own good. He loves to answer questions, but sometimes he just doesn't let anyone else respond. Every class has got one.
I still haven't seen the old guy (Pedro) return to the post office after his long vacation. His temporary replacement is maybe permanent, after all? A trainer from the language program in Peace Corps was fired and all the trainers said was that she "wasn't in this week". Strange, that.
Laurenzo, noting the absence of all the secretaries and the pile of bookkeeping to be done, was crunching major numbers today. He's a Biology teacher, pedagogical director, and substitute secretary. How many hats does he have to wear? How many people would be as dedicated in his position? It's really incredible.
On a good note, the students in my youngest turma were absolutely a pleasure. We had a quick, fun two lessons and they seemed to absorb everything attentively. I guess it also helps that I have them first thing Monday afternoon. But they are generally smart and ambitious.
Dinho is starting to swing to the side of "incredibly annoying" once again. He has these swings every so often for one extreme or the other, and he's really being far too honest as of late. Far too honest.
Peace
John
The advanced students in my English classes are wonderfully smart and inquisitive. They asked me questions until 9:20 tonight, absorbing almost everything I threw at them. One of them is a major kiss-up and a little too smart for his own good. He loves to answer questions, but sometimes he just doesn't let anyone else respond. Every class has got one.
I still haven't seen the old guy (Pedro) return to the post office after his long vacation. His temporary replacement is maybe permanent, after all? A trainer from the language program in Peace Corps was fired and all the trainers said was that she "wasn't in this week". Strange, that.
Laurenzo, noting the absence of all the secretaries and the pile of bookkeeping to be done, was crunching major numbers today. He's a Biology teacher, pedagogical director, and substitute secretary. How many hats does he have to wear? How many people would be as dedicated in his position? It's really incredible.
On a good note, the students in my youngest turma were absolutely a pleasure. We had a quick, fun two lessons and they seemed to absorb everything attentively. I guess it also helps that I have them first thing Monday afternoon. But they are generally smart and ambitious.
Dinho is starting to swing to the side of "incredibly annoying" once again. He has these swings every so often for one extreme or the other, and he's really being far too honest as of late. Far too honest.
Peace
John
09/28/2003
I left the training site yesterday, heading straight for the beach where a bunch of volunteers were hanging out - just because.
I managed to catch one of the slowest chapas I've ever had on the way there. The driver slowed down to about 20 km/hr (about 15 mph) and took back roads to get to his house. Who knows what he was doing there or why, but now I know another chapa to avoid. We waited outside his house about 10 minutes before anyone from the car decided to go try and find him. Luckily I was in no hurry.
The next ride I got was from a couple of South Africans who own some land by the beach - I got a very windy ride, but was rewarded with a genuine lager at the end of it. As I had only eaten popcorn earlier in Maputo (and impressed the vendor with my Changana, getting an extra scoop), the beer hit me pretty hard. The 90 degree day didn't help either. So I grabbed some cashews and munched on that while I looked for the volunteers.
We got together, finally, and after having seen some of my students on a school outing, we said bye to the beach, and headed back to Monica's place. We cooked a fabulous Mexican-themed dinner with tacos, enchiladas, sangria, etc. Unfortunately, I suddenly felt nauseous about 30 minutes before all was ready. I sat down and rested for a while, but it turned out that was all I could handle. Realizing I wasn't very hungry and how little I had eaten all day, I figured something I had had at the training site got to me. Oh, well.
I watched everyone go off to the club, and stayed watching movies subtitled in Portuguese on a very appreciated big-screen TV.
I grabbed a couple hours of sleep, at most, then we all headed out together. We got another very slow ride, but it was fun. There's nothing like sitting on peoples' laps and crunching legs together to endear you to others. Chapa Twister.
To say that I napped on the ride into town would be an understatement. I was awake long enough to make it to my bed - possibly the best feeling in the world after spending two uncomfortable prostrate hours on a reed mat. And, so far today, I've eaten a banana. It's almost 9 PM. I'm hoping tomorrow is another, more normal day.
I think keeping up with thie journal has made my thinking very self-centered. I think my relationships here are suffering because of it - so I'm going to try, starting tomorrow, for a week, to only write about others I encounter over the course of the day. Hopefully, that will get me back on track.
I think I'm gonna try eating a little dinner. Food. What a concept.
Peace
John
I managed to catch one of the slowest chapas I've ever had on the way there. The driver slowed down to about 20 km/hr (about 15 mph) and took back roads to get to his house. Who knows what he was doing there or why, but now I know another chapa to avoid. We waited outside his house about 10 minutes before anyone from the car decided to go try and find him. Luckily I was in no hurry.
The next ride I got was from a couple of South Africans who own some land by the beach - I got a very windy ride, but was rewarded with a genuine lager at the end of it. As I had only eaten popcorn earlier in Maputo (and impressed the vendor with my Changana, getting an extra scoop), the beer hit me pretty hard. The 90 degree day didn't help either. So I grabbed some cashews and munched on that while I looked for the volunteers.
We got together, finally, and after having seen some of my students on a school outing, we said bye to the beach, and headed back to Monica's place. We cooked a fabulous Mexican-themed dinner with tacos, enchiladas, sangria, etc. Unfortunately, I suddenly felt nauseous about 30 minutes before all was ready. I sat down and rested for a while, but it turned out that was all I could handle. Realizing I wasn't very hungry and how little I had eaten all day, I figured something I had had at the training site got to me. Oh, well.
I watched everyone go off to the club, and stayed watching movies subtitled in Portuguese on a very appreciated big-screen TV.
I grabbed a couple hours of sleep, at most, then we all headed out together. We got another very slow ride, but it was fun. There's nothing like sitting on peoples' laps and crunching legs together to endear you to others. Chapa Twister.
To say that I napped on the ride into town would be an understatement. I was awake long enough to make it to my bed - possibly the best feeling in the world after spending two uncomfortable prostrate hours on a reed mat. And, so far today, I've eaten a banana. It's almost 9 PM. I'm hoping tomorrow is another, more normal day.
I think keeping up with thie journal has made my thinking very self-centered. I think my relationships here are suffering because of it - so I'm going to try, starting tomorrow, for a week, to only write about others I encounter over the course of the day. Hopefully, that will get me back on track.
I think I'm gonna try eating a little dinner. Food. What a concept.
Peace
John
09/26/2003
It's been nice to be away from home for a couple days, but I think I'm starting to feel bad about missing class. Oh well!
I helped the trainers with their lessons today and also with their computer training. It's a lot of Portuguese, but I think I'm getting used to it (though at time I feel like I'm always tripping over my words). Being the only volunteer here before the new trainees arrive is quite eerie - I feel like a ghost. If any of the trainees were like me, they will have read some of my journal, they'll be using materials I helped (or simply) prepare, will have watched a staging video with me in it, and some of the trainers will be using methods I helped them with.
Now, I just need to do my JOB!
Peace
John
I helped the trainers with their lessons today and also with their computer training. It's a lot of Portuguese, but I think I'm getting used to it (though at time I feel like I'm always tripping over my words). Being the only volunteer here before the new trainees arrive is quite eerie - I feel like a ghost. If any of the trainees were like me, they will have read some of my journal, they'll be using materials I helped (or simply) prepare, will have watched a staging video with me in it, and some of the trainers will be using methods I helped them with.
Now, I just need to do my JOB!
Peace
John
09/25/2003
Ngovo. It's a drink. Traditional. Rough stuff this drink.
Had a good training session - prepping for the big arrival of new trainees. Had a good long conversation about nothing.
Peace
John
Had a good training session - prepping for the big arrival of new trainees. Had a good long conversation about nothing.
Peace
John
09/24/2003
Kingston got me drunk. Bad man, that guy.
I'm taking this "missing people" thing one day at a time, or at least trying to. It's hard.
Peace
John
I'm taking this "missing people" thing one day at a time, or at least trying to. It's hard.
Peace
John
09/23/2003
Many volunteers come to training saying things like "I love my students", and "teaching is great". I hesitate before saying anything like that. My students, on the whole, give me tons of problems and often turn me into an unmotivated lump by the end of the day. I know it's a city thing - but it's also a "we see white people every day. They're all rich and unapproachable, so why should you be any different?" thing. This great combination leads to sometimes outward hostility and most times complete lack of discipline. Yes, often complete lack of discipline.
Though I try.
Kicking students out, giving the entire class an absence, giving red absences (get 3 and you're out of school), giving zeroes in quizzes and tests, tearing sheets out of notebooks, simply not giving classes but holding the students responsible for the material...often it still does not guarantee that I can give a class. Example.
I gave four ACS' today. The first one I gave I only had to kick a couple students out. But I had another lesson with the same class and they made so much noise - even after throwing several students out and calling roll early - that I had to stop the lesson short. I knew I had lost control and they had no intention of participating or cooperating. My mental sanity was at stake. This happens at least once or twice a week.
In one of my ACS' today, of which there are two versions - one for the right side of the desk and one for the left, because they sit two to a desk - a girl actually got up and moved around to sit on the other side of the desk. Not only was she disrupting the class, but she had clearly seen a previous version of the quiz I had given in another turma and decided she knew the other side better. So I threw her out.
Then I noticed that the girl she was sitting with didn't have a proper uniform, and I had just gotten spoken to about enforcing the uniform rule (no uniform, no classes). So I threw her out, too. It's incredible - depending on the teachers that students have every day, they will wear different clothes. Uniform if a teacher will throw them out for not having it. Short skirt for girls who want to flirt with the teacher. Random Amiercan paraphernalia for me. If they just put that much effort into their schoolwork!
I've been trying to figure out lately why it is that language is more easily understood than spoken. It seems to make sense that you can understand what's going on by picking up on key words, but all those little words you don't know pose a problem when speaking. I think that's one aspect. There's also body language that in a native speaker can serve to help communicate, but a learner will use in place of proper language. Additionally, memories can be triggered by hearing a word - somehow this is often easier than thinking simply of a translation.
This last one has me hung up - what structure exists in the brain that makes it easier to recognize than to translate a word? At what point does the word take on its own meaning, independent of explanation or translation?
Peace
John
Though I try.
Kicking students out, giving the entire class an absence, giving red absences (get 3 and you're out of school), giving zeroes in quizzes and tests, tearing sheets out of notebooks, simply not giving classes but holding the students responsible for the material...often it still does not guarantee that I can give a class. Example.
I gave four ACS' today. The first one I gave I only had to kick a couple students out. But I had another lesson with the same class and they made so much noise - even after throwing several students out and calling roll early - that I had to stop the lesson short. I knew I had lost control and they had no intention of participating or cooperating. My mental sanity was at stake. This happens at least once or twice a week.
In one of my ACS' today, of which there are two versions - one for the right side of the desk and one for the left, because they sit two to a desk - a girl actually got up and moved around to sit on the other side of the desk. Not only was she disrupting the class, but she had clearly seen a previous version of the quiz I had given in another turma and decided she knew the other side better. So I threw her out.
Then I noticed that the girl she was sitting with didn't have a proper uniform, and I had just gotten spoken to about enforcing the uniform rule (no uniform, no classes). So I threw her out, too. It's incredible - depending on the teachers that students have every day, they will wear different clothes. Uniform if a teacher will throw them out for not having it. Short skirt for girls who want to flirt with the teacher. Random Amiercan paraphernalia for me. If they just put that much effort into their schoolwork!
I've been trying to figure out lately why it is that language is more easily understood than spoken. It seems to make sense that you can understand what's going on by picking up on key words, but all those little words you don't know pose a problem when speaking. I think that's one aspect. There's also body language that in a native speaker can serve to help communicate, but a learner will use in place of proper language. Additionally, memories can be triggered by hearing a word - somehow this is often easier than thinking simply of a translation.
This last one has me hung up - what structure exists in the brain that makes it easier to recognize than to translate a word? At what point does the word take on its own meaning, independent of explanation or translation?
Peace
John
09/22/2003
I gave the second ACS (quiz) today. I threw three girls out of one turma because they were talking during the quiz. They complained to another teacher, and the teacher begged me to let them in. But I held my ground and made sure it was understood that a rule is a rule, not to be bent when convenient - I can really be an asshole like that.
Naturally, giving these quizzes, when all I have to do is watch for cheating, I get plenty of (dangerous) time to think. Like about how we internalize language.
It seems like we teach language as if it were created at some point as a bunch of rules that define how it should be spoken. But, with rare exception, that's not how it happens. Rules can help with language learning because it can, in some cases, account for the majority of the grammar. But what often gets ignored is that you're teaching a new way to think. The rules that someone makes by looking at the language scientifically are just an entry into that way of thinking. When language is seen as a bunch of rules as opposed to an entire method that transcends these rules, learning the language is more difficult.
But how is this overcome? How do you structure lessons and an entire curriculum around teaching a way of thinking if not rule by rule? I think this point needs to be more carefully addressed. Maybe there's some way to teach how to think in the other language - still in the mother tongue of the student - so as to give the vocabulary and even grammar somewhere to sit when it's learned.
Which brings up another point. Learning, the actual integration and association of facts, only happens when these connections are made by the learner. I think it's our job as teachers to only provide the information and methods of integrating the information - and not actually making the connections. This means giving questions and not the answers. And questions that don't have just one correct answer. This means explaining clearly everything up to a certain point, when it becomes the responsibility of the learner.
The quiz I gave today reflected that philosophy and I'm seeing the difficulties in doing so.
I fell asleep reading at 8 PM last night and didn't wake up until 7 AM this morning. I believe that's the longest night's sleep I've had in Mozambique - it was my body saying "Enough - pay attention now, you need to rest." Speaking of...
Peace
John
Naturally, giving these quizzes, when all I have to do is watch for cheating, I get plenty of (dangerous) time to think. Like about how we internalize language.
It seems like we teach language as if it were created at some point as a bunch of rules that define how it should be spoken. But, with rare exception, that's not how it happens. Rules can help with language learning because it can, in some cases, account for the majority of the grammar. But what often gets ignored is that you're teaching a new way to think. The rules that someone makes by looking at the language scientifically are just an entry into that way of thinking. When language is seen as a bunch of rules as opposed to an entire method that transcends these rules, learning the language is more difficult.
But how is this overcome? How do you structure lessons and an entire curriculum around teaching a way of thinking if not rule by rule? I think this point needs to be more carefully addressed. Maybe there's some way to teach how to think in the other language - still in the mother tongue of the student - so as to give the vocabulary and even grammar somewhere to sit when it's learned.
Which brings up another point. Learning, the actual integration and association of facts, only happens when these connections are made by the learner. I think it's our job as teachers to only provide the information and methods of integrating the information - and not actually making the connections. This means giving questions and not the answers. And questions that don't have just one correct answer. This means explaining clearly everything up to a certain point, when it becomes the responsibility of the learner.
The quiz I gave today reflected that philosophy and I'm seeing the difficulties in doing so.
I fell asleep reading at 8 PM last night and didn't wake up until 7 AM this morning. I believe that's the longest night's sleep I've had in Mozambique - it was my body saying "Enough - pay attention now, you need to rest." Speaking of...
Peace
John
09/21/2003
A couple days ago I had a nice intimate conversation with the owner of one of the stores in town. She had very few customers, it was almost closing time, and the paperwork was all done. I had some time to kill, so I started asking about her family - how they were doing and such.
We ended up talking about providing the future and how we live on through our children. She talked about how during the war, she ended up having to run to "the jungle" in order to hide out. She told me how her father narrowly escaped ambushes on a couple of occasions and how she ended up having to drop a promising career in order to provide for her children in the here and now.
It was a rare, frank talk about the effects of the war on people here. In fact, it's the only unsolicited one I've gotten in the almost one year I've been here. I asked her why that is, why people don't talk about the war. People are happy to be living in peace. To her, she doesn't care if her country finds riches and the comforts of life that Westerners enjoy. It's just the living that she and other Mozambicans enjoy.
She's putting three children through university, not a small thing she's doing. Private university costs about $200 a month, so only one of the kids is going to a private school.
She's one of the lucky ones. She and her family survived the war, and she's found a way for her children to have a better life. She knows she's lucky, too.
Which makes me feel even luckier.
Peace
John
We ended up talking about providing the future and how we live on through our children. She talked about how during the war, she ended up having to run to "the jungle" in order to hide out. She told me how her father narrowly escaped ambushes on a couple of occasions and how she ended up having to drop a promising career in order to provide for her children in the here and now.
It was a rare, frank talk about the effects of the war on people here. In fact, it's the only unsolicited one I've gotten in the almost one year I've been here. I asked her why that is, why people don't talk about the war. People are happy to be living in peace. To her, she doesn't care if her country finds riches and the comforts of life that Westerners enjoy. It's just the living that she and other Mozambicans enjoy.
She's putting three children through university, not a small thing she's doing. Private university costs about $200 a month, so only one of the kids is going to a private school.
She's one of the lucky ones. She and her family survived the war, and she's found a way for her children to have a better life. She knows she's lucky, too.
Which makes me feel even luckier.
Peace
John
09/19/2003
Maputo and C--- are a world apart. Every time I arrive here, I feel like I've been transported to another time. And I know that Maputo had the feeling for me coming from the States.
Well, the second HIV/AIDS meeting is tomorrow and I think we are well-prepared for it. It seems like many people will be attending, and if all goes well, this will be a hit. I don't know what will eventually come of our efforts, but I hope I've planted the seeds for a good group of leaders.
Got a free Coke for showing an out-of-towner around. It's hot here and the Coke was nice and cold...
Peace
John
Well, the second HIV/AIDS meeting is tomorrow and I think we are well-prepared for it. It seems like many people will be attending, and if all goes well, this will be a hit. I don't know what will eventually come of our efforts, but I hope I've planted the seeds for a good group of leaders.
Got a free Coke for showing an out-of-towner around. It's hot here and the Coke was nice and cold...
Peace
John
09/18/2003
I worked hard today. Spoke a lot of Changana. I think the trainers have a better hold on Portuguese teaching now, but it looks like I'm coming back next week.
Boy am I tired. Looking forward to a nice, long chapa ride.
Peace
John
Boy am I tired. Looking forward to a nice, long chapa ride.
Peace
John
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