We got one turma done today at the grade council - the new pedagogical director is being incredibly strict and I hope this organization pays off later on. For the time being, she's disliked - just like the last ped director. I'm not liked because I'm strict in the classroom - is there a pattern here (other than hyphens)? My turms seems to have some of the highest grades in the 10th grade and it's an older turma that's not expected to do so well. Maybe I can actually take credit for some of that. Maybe.
Paul Theroux's book mentions Maputo and the train that runs up to my site. I've been meaning to take the train for a while, and as I hear it clearly from my window quite often, I feel that my next trip to Maputo should include it.
In the same breath, he mentions an old bit of advice for a do-gooder from their father. He roughly says that every life is unique, is special, and must be treated as such. Like this, you won't be able to touch many lives. But the reality is that you can't help everyone. So work on yourself first and focus on the little things in your life that make it so interesting.
My latest project, the study guide, is half-selfish, muscle-flexing, half-help.
Peace
John
Thursday, April 29, 2004
04/11/2004
I spent most of this weekend finalizing my study guide for 8th grade material (it's going to be a bit longer than I had hoped, but comprehensive), so now I just have to print it up. I've also started on "Dark Star Safari" by Paul Theroux. My mother warned me not to read it (until after I return) because it'd be too depressing, but ironically, I'm finding that it's quite close to how I'm finding Africa to be - and I DO find that fact depressing. He writes quite extensively about the presence of aid workers who don't get it. Meaning that there are tons of aid workers here who are so focused on accomplishing their self-serving goals, that they don't realize what the goals or motivations are of the people they're helping and that the aid they're giving might actually impoverish in the end. That we have the misguided vision that any help is better than none.
Missing from the maxim "Give a man a fish, he'll eat for a day. Teach him how to fish and he'll eat forever" is that if you give him a fish, he'll actually put off learning how to fish for TWO days because he's got a full belly and fully expects you to feed him again the next day. I do the same thing. When someone says to me "Here, take this pill and you won't get malaria" I take the pill and wait for the next dosage. I don't necessarily think about how I can go about avoiding malaria, without taking a pill in the first place. So do we really expect that people who are struggling for meals are going to have the presence of mind to say "No, thanks. I want you to teach me how to do that for myself."? I think what's sad is that exactly this is starting to happen because the victims are being further victimized by this behavior.
And then, when that is avoided, many of the methods for creating a sustainable infrastructure are completely UNsustainable. And why? Well, I'll give an example I developed with Nanosh today. Let's say there's some strife in the US and we end up at civil war again. The country divided into two factions, each having to rebuild based upon new ideals and realities. And let's say one of these factions finds Communism attractive to solve its problems. So we implement a Chinese-style government, educational system, etc., down to the letter. It would fail miserably. And not because Americans and Chinese are different racially. We're culturally - irrevocably - vastly different. Such a governing style isn't a manifestation of OUR culture and inherently doesn't work. Western solutions don't work in Africa 9 times out of 10, not because we don't try hard enough, or because the people here are stupid (definitely NOT the case), or because the solution is bad. It's that the solution doesn't match the culture. And the culture isn't looking for a solution because the culture doesn't yet see it as a problem. Take AIDS. We see AIDS as a problem because we're much more familiar with its effects, having combated it pretty thoroughly. But when we first dealt with AIDS, we were immature and cocky. We underestimated its potential and it ran relatively rampant. Nobody was over our shoulders saying "This is horrendous! It's a catastrophe!" We found enough out on our own and found our own solutions.
So I'm saying that Mozambique needs to find its own solutions, but I still think we can help. I still think we can help give the information about the disease and stir up activism - but as soon as we preach, we're feeding the man a fish and he won't eat nor learn how to fish. So long as we're offering temporary hope, real solutions won't be found.
Peace
John
Missing from the maxim "Give a man a fish, he'll eat for a day. Teach him how to fish and he'll eat forever" is that if you give him a fish, he'll actually put off learning how to fish for TWO days because he's got a full belly and fully expects you to feed him again the next day. I do the same thing. When someone says to me "Here, take this pill and you won't get malaria" I take the pill and wait for the next dosage. I don't necessarily think about how I can go about avoiding malaria, without taking a pill in the first place. So do we really expect that people who are struggling for meals are going to have the presence of mind to say "No, thanks. I want you to teach me how to do that for myself."? I think what's sad is that exactly this is starting to happen because the victims are being further victimized by this behavior.
And then, when that is avoided, many of the methods for creating a sustainable infrastructure are completely UNsustainable. And why? Well, I'll give an example I developed with Nanosh today. Let's say there's some strife in the US and we end up at civil war again. The country divided into two factions, each having to rebuild based upon new ideals and realities. And let's say one of these factions finds Communism attractive to solve its problems. So we implement a Chinese-style government, educational system, etc., down to the letter. It would fail miserably. And not because Americans and Chinese are different racially. We're culturally - irrevocably - vastly different. Such a governing style isn't a manifestation of OUR culture and inherently doesn't work. Western solutions don't work in Africa 9 times out of 10, not because we don't try hard enough, or because the people here are stupid (definitely NOT the case), or because the solution is bad. It's that the solution doesn't match the culture. And the culture isn't looking for a solution because the culture doesn't yet see it as a problem. Take AIDS. We see AIDS as a problem because we're much more familiar with its effects, having combated it pretty thoroughly. But when we first dealt with AIDS, we were immature and cocky. We underestimated its potential and it ran relatively rampant. Nobody was over our shoulders saying "This is horrendous! It's a catastrophe!" We found enough out on our own and found our own solutions.
So I'm saying that Mozambique needs to find its own solutions, but I still think we can help. I still think we can help give the information about the disease and stir up activism - but as soon as we preach, we're feeding the man a fish and he won't eat nor learn how to fish. So long as we're offering temporary hope, real solutions won't be found.
Peace
John
04/08/2004
I was in the middle of the presentations for my second-youngest turma today. Most of the groups had given decent reports of the material, with some small, well-made visual aids and a general knowledge of the material. Then, magic.
This one boy gets up - he always wears a uniform slightly lighter in color than the others, he's always got a half-smile on his face - a face that seems to flow right into his chest without any need for a neck - and he doesn't carry this awkwardness well - and he looks out at the class for a second. He starts by introducing the topic, and without a pause, doubt, or break in his presentation, tacks up a visual aid and with a ruler, points out every step of the process he's explaining so effortlessly and emotionally, that other students become utterly mesmerized. I had to tear myself away from listening to the pattern of his voice and the power of his presence long enough to observe the trance he had put his classmates into. I have never heard a room so silent.
He shifted from foot to foot as if he'd done it a thousand times - without pomp, without hamming it up, and explained for 5 minutes straight to a wowed audience. Everyone knew it when he had finished - it was clear that that was all there was to say on the subject - and he received a screaming, yelling round of applause.
Calmly, smiling, he took down his visual aid and walked back to his desk.
I feel like a turtle has popped out of his shell to show how miraculous life is, and then popped back in just to show you how you can miss all of it if you're not looking the right way.
Peace
John
This one boy gets up - he always wears a uniform slightly lighter in color than the others, he's always got a half-smile on his face - a face that seems to flow right into his chest without any need for a neck - and he doesn't carry this awkwardness well - and he looks out at the class for a second. He starts by introducing the topic, and without a pause, doubt, or break in his presentation, tacks up a visual aid and with a ruler, points out every step of the process he's explaining so effortlessly and emotionally, that other students become utterly mesmerized. I had to tear myself away from listening to the pattern of his voice and the power of his presence long enough to observe the trance he had put his classmates into. I have never heard a room so silent.
He shifted from foot to foot as if he'd done it a thousand times - without pomp, without hamming it up, and explained for 5 minutes straight to a wowed audience. Everyone knew it when he had finished - it was clear that that was all there was to say on the subject - and he received a screaming, yelling round of applause.
Calmly, smiling, he took down his visual aid and walked back to his desk.
I feel like a turtle has popped out of his shell to show how miraculous life is, and then popped back in just to show you how you can miss all of it if you're not looking the right way.
Peace
John
04/07/2004
It was Mozambican Womens' Day today. Blake had a farewell party this afternoon, so I helped the women do the cooking and clean up. Mozambicans were so surprised at this that they took pictures of Nanosh, Charles and I washing the dishes.
We then went to the bar a little later, and women were cleaning while a woman served us our beers. A bunch of men were drinking next to us, and a woman drinking was sitting alone inside. We showed a few boys how to play chess while watching women struggle with food and children through the mud.
We then went to get our own bread (ha!) and on the way, passed a late-closing pastry shop where two women were alone behind the counter. We stopped and spoke with them for a while, buying a couple of pastries.
Mainly, it seems that on this national holiday honoring women, I saw men wandering around aimlessly and women going about doing the work they do every single day. And even the women couldn't IMAGINE it being any different.
Tomorrow, I'll most likely see a few presentations, but be frustrated that more weren't presented. Rain, cold and motivation are all against me.
Peace
John
We then went to the bar a little later, and women were cleaning while a woman served us our beers. A bunch of men were drinking next to us, and a woman drinking was sitting alone inside. We showed a few boys how to play chess while watching women struggle with food and children through the mud.
We then went to get our own bread (ha!) and on the way, passed a late-closing pastry shop where two women were alone behind the counter. We stopped and spoke with them for a while, buying a couple of pastries.
Mainly, it seems that on this national holiday honoring women, I saw men wandering around aimlessly and women going about doing the work they do every single day. And even the women couldn't IMAGINE it being any different.
Tomorrow, I'll most likely see a few presentations, but be frustrated that more weren't presented. Rain, cold and motivation are all against me.
Peace
John
04/05/2004
I thought about going home today - about leaving this all because somebody wants to exploit the culture here, somebody else just wants to alleviate their guilt by dumping books, and somebody else wants to make money off of everyone else's desire to learn English. But I took a step back and realized why I see other people for their selfish motives and it's because I'm not seeing their humanity, which is the same as mine, essentially selfish. It's just how we use that selfishness that's the catch.
I graded a lot of my students' projects today - they're writing summaries of 8th grade topics to help their studies for the exams. In addition, they're writing different types of questions and doing presentations which have to include a visual aid of some sort. I can already see how far they've come from last year because many of the groups have clearly sought to understand the material, and their summaries reflect that. They start their presentations tomorrow, and I'm really psyched to see what they come up with.
The biggest challenge with the whole thing so far has been that they don't really know what a "sentence" is. I asked for 5 sentences, and I've received 5 lines, 5 paragraphs, and one of 5 sections. It's so basic a concept to me, I don't know how to explain what a sentence IS, other than that it starts with a capital letter and ends with a period. But they're putting together some excellent questions that drive to the heart of the concepts. I'm planning on compiling their projects into a study guide, and I think it will work really well - they've never had a textbook that has answered questions in it, so it might be hard to show them how to use it, but a wonderful asset at the end of the year.
Peace
John
I graded a lot of my students' projects today - they're writing summaries of 8th grade topics to help their studies for the exams. In addition, they're writing different types of questions and doing presentations which have to include a visual aid of some sort. I can already see how far they've come from last year because many of the groups have clearly sought to understand the material, and their summaries reflect that. They start their presentations tomorrow, and I'm really psyched to see what they come up with.
The biggest challenge with the whole thing so far has been that they don't really know what a "sentence" is. I asked for 5 sentences, and I've received 5 lines, 5 paragraphs, and one of 5 sections. It's so basic a concept to me, I don't know how to explain what a sentence IS, other than that it starts with a capital letter and ends with a period. But they're putting together some excellent questions that drive to the heart of the concepts. I'm planning on compiling their projects into a study guide, and I think it will work really well - they've never had a textbook that has answered questions in it, so it might be hard to show them how to use it, but a wonderful asset at the end of the year.
Peace
John
04/04/2004
Went to the beach today and it was very nice - good to get away, but still glad I'm not going to be voyaging very much this break. Gave me some time to think about this privilege issue.
It's quite arrogant for me to call it privilege. I didn't really define privilege in a context. It's very much financial privilege. It's having opportunities that others can only hope to have in their entire lives. And so by being born in America, I have a ton more opportunities than someone born Mozambican. The point is, I shouldn't feel guilty about that any more than a Mozambican should feel slighted. Someday, the situation may very well be reversed. I feel that my obligation as someone who has opportunities, is to make the most of these opportunities and possibly give them to others, so maybe they can give opportunities to even more people.
Maybe this is part of the truth I'm always seeking, that our spirits are defined by how we can express them - just like a genius will sound like a first grader in a new language, a society that has no outlet for being a good teacher, an honest politician(!), etc., will never produce one. The opportunity isn't there.
Peace
John
It's quite arrogant for me to call it privilege. I didn't really define privilege in a context. It's very much financial privilege. It's having opportunities that others can only hope to have in their entire lives. And so by being born in America, I have a ton more opportunities than someone born Mozambican. The point is, I shouldn't feel guilty about that any more than a Mozambican should feel slighted. Someday, the situation may very well be reversed. I feel that my obligation as someone who has opportunities, is to make the most of these opportunities and possibly give them to others, so maybe they can give opportunities to even more people.
Maybe this is part of the truth I'm always seeking, that our spirits are defined by how we can express them - just like a genius will sound like a first grader in a new language, a society that has no outlet for being a good teacher, an honest politician(!), etc., will never produce one. The opportunity isn't there.
Peace
John
04/03/2004
I still feel like "life" is on pause. I feel like this is one of these two-week programs I used to do for the experience. I feel like it's not quite real.
In some sense, it's not. I don't belong here, I'm not staying here, my heart's not here. But this is as much life as it is in the States.
I just can't imagine walking out of a movie theater to a snowy night, getting into a warm car and driving to an all-night diner, afterwards snuggling into bed to wake up and do it all over again. I can't imagine how normal I'd feel doing it and how overprivileged I'd truly be. I guess a part of me has always felt that way. I'll just know it for sure now.
And now I know what privilege is - it's not skin color or intelligence or financial prowess. It's where you're born. I remember at about 10 years old, thinking how lucky I was to be born American in the era in which I was born. I still feel that wonder at how much it affects and how deeply it affect every aspect of my current life. And if I were born Mozambican, I might be sitting in one of my classes, trying to figure out what this strange guy is really trying to get me to learn. But if I were born Mozambican, I'd most likely never break free of poverty, in some sense, and forever be a slave to my lack of privilege.
Peace
John
In some sense, it's not. I don't belong here, I'm not staying here, my heart's not here. But this is as much life as it is in the States.
I just can't imagine walking out of a movie theater to a snowy night, getting into a warm car and driving to an all-night diner, afterwards snuggling into bed to wake up and do it all over again. I can't imagine how normal I'd feel doing it and how overprivileged I'd truly be. I guess a part of me has always felt that way. I'll just know it for sure now.
And now I know what privilege is - it's not skin color or intelligence or financial prowess. It's where you're born. I remember at about 10 years old, thinking how lucky I was to be born American in the era in which I was born. I still feel that wonder at how much it affects and how deeply it affect every aspect of my current life. And if I were born Mozambican, I might be sitting in one of my classes, trying to figure out what this strange guy is really trying to get me to learn. But if I were born Mozambican, I'd most likely never break free of poverty, in some sense, and forever be a slave to my lack of privilege.
Peace
John
04/02/2004
I gave the same lesson four times today, but I gave four different lessons. Then, I gave my 8th grade lessons and they were fantastic. Carolina, another Biology teacher, watched my first lesson and noticed how many visual aids I used and how interactive the lesson was and seemed excited to use some of these concepts in her own lessons! I gave the same lesson a second time and felt the same success without the affirmation of another teacher.
I suppose that I somewhat dislike success, because it broadens the scope of what is possible and distracts me from my somewhat constant goal of figuring out exactly how to teach in this system. I suppose it's very scientific, my approach: try and prove a theory by disproving everything else. In this case, I don't really have a theory yet, as much as a good guess.
A girl - a really smart one - participated for the first time, voluntarily, in one of my classes today. She received a 100% on the last test, and I hope that's what boosted her confidence.
Peace
John
I suppose that I somewhat dislike success, because it broadens the scope of what is possible and distracts me from my somewhat constant goal of figuring out exactly how to teach in this system. I suppose it's very scientific, my approach: try and prove a theory by disproving everything else. In this case, I don't really have a theory yet, as much as a good guess.
A girl - a really smart one - participated for the first time, voluntarily, in one of my classes today. She received a 100% on the last test, and I hope that's what boosted her confidence.
Peace
John
Tuesday, April 27, 2004
04/01/2004
Every time it gets cold, the kids are uncontrollable. You add in April Fool's Day (here, Liar's Day) and it gets pretty unpredictable.
Throughout the day, I was playing a joke on classes, saying that they had a pop quiz - playing it straight, up until one of them actually brought their books to the front of the room. I was surprised they found it so clever (I wouldn't dare try that in the US and expect to be found "funny" by a group of kids). I even told a couple of secretaries that one of the other teachers had torn off all of his clothes and was running around outside naked - they started to look, then realized their mistake.
My students got me back by telling me that another teacher was calling me - so I went out to talk to him in the rain and came back to the same laughter I'd created. They asked if I was mad! It was pretty funny, all told. How could I be mad if I had done the same thing...
So it was in this context that someone from the secretary's office came by and told me that I needed to go see them right away. I was overseeing a lesson (a student was giving dictation) at the time, and so I thought for sure they were taking their turn with me. So I thought, "Well, I'll try and turn it around on them."
So I went past a few students I get along with well, and grabbed one who I know is a good actor. I told him what was going on and that my plan was for him to act sick - REAL sick - and pretend like we were going to the hospital. The idea was that their calling me in to the office as a joke would seem like an unnecessary inconvenience because I was escorting this poor student to the emergency room, and had to stop what I was doing just to get to the office.
Well, I walked in there, with my student next to me, doubled over in mock pain, and the head secretary shows me a photocopier that they just got and explains that they need someone who can read the instruction manual to put it together. At this moment, I laughingly pushed the student away and told the secretaries I'd be back to take care of it. The student and I had a good laugh outside at my paranoia, and his crappy acting job - they never even asked about him!
Peace
John
Throughout the day, I was playing a joke on classes, saying that they had a pop quiz - playing it straight, up until one of them actually brought their books to the front of the room. I was surprised they found it so clever (I wouldn't dare try that in the US and expect to be found "funny" by a group of kids). I even told a couple of secretaries that one of the other teachers had torn off all of his clothes and was running around outside naked - they started to look, then realized their mistake.
My students got me back by telling me that another teacher was calling me - so I went out to talk to him in the rain and came back to the same laughter I'd created. They asked if I was mad! It was pretty funny, all told. How could I be mad if I had done the same thing...
So it was in this context that someone from the secretary's office came by and told me that I needed to go see them right away. I was overseeing a lesson (a student was giving dictation) at the time, and so I thought for sure they were taking their turn with me. So I thought, "Well, I'll try and turn it around on them."
So I went past a few students I get along with well, and grabbed one who I know is a good actor. I told him what was going on and that my plan was for him to act sick - REAL sick - and pretend like we were going to the hospital. The idea was that their calling me in to the office as a joke would seem like an unnecessary inconvenience because I was escorting this poor student to the emergency room, and had to stop what I was doing just to get to the office.
Well, I walked in there, with my student next to me, doubled over in mock pain, and the head secretary shows me a photocopier that they just got and explains that they need someone who can read the instruction manual to put it together. At this moment, I laughingly pushed the student away and told the secretaries I'd be back to take care of it. The student and I had a good laugh outside at my paranoia, and his crappy acting job - they never even asked about him!
Peace
John
03/30/2004
Here, you realize how tightly you must hold on to small victories. I think my students have renewed vigor after seeing high test scores and their efforts validated. The next step is to see how they do on their trimesterly projects on 8th grade material.
Even though I didn't teach all that much (though 5 lessons can sound like a lot, out of context) today, I got super tired. I think it's just built-up fatique from grading papers and giving classes/proctoring exams for a week and a half straight. Resting up tomorrow and getting some things done around the house will be nice.
Word has hit that Horacio, a Peace Corps driver, died a couple of days ago. I remember that he always greeted me in Changana and remarked on "how great" it was that I was learning and making an effort. We'd speak in Changana about our health, the health of our families, what we were doing, where we were going. He would always make me feel special, and I always tried to return the favor.
All told, death is tough to understand.
Peace
John
Even though I didn't teach all that much (though 5 lessons can sound like a lot, out of context) today, I got super tired. I think it's just built-up fatique from grading papers and giving classes/proctoring exams for a week and a half straight. Resting up tomorrow and getting some things done around the house will be nice.
Word has hit that Horacio, a Peace Corps driver, died a couple of days ago. I remember that he always greeted me in Changana and remarked on "how great" it was that I was learning and making an effort. We'd speak in Changana about our health, the health of our families, what we were doing, where we were going. He would always make me feel special, and I always tried to return the favor.
All told, death is tough to understand.
Peace
John
Thursday, April 22, 2004
03/28/2004
Dear Diary,
I apologize. It has been far too long without telling you what's going on in my life. You see, I had a tough week and I really didn't feel like trying to recap it in a few words here and there. I feel like I would be doing you a disservice. So I'm going to try and paint you a picture of what I've felt like lately.
I feel like a ghoul who moves in and out of various skins, occupying them for a time with a common, unidentifiable spirit.
I spent some time in the body of a doctor who makes house calls, trying to repair the spirit and wrist of a kid who saw his best friend killed.
I hopped into that of a poltergeist, furiously detecting any hint of cheating and dismissing all who tried to pass. Many students suffered at the point of my red pen.
I found temporary lodging in the accustomed mask of a freak - accustomed in the sense of being resigned to his strangeness. It's a mask that seems to be worn quite often, for hours or even days at a time. It is a sad and dark mask, and it longs to be removed. It's a mask that tries to be just that - it wishes for its own nonexistence.
I even found myself looking into the mirror at a grimy investigator, tracking down culprits in the case of a robbery. I'm unhappy in this skin as well, because it is vengeful and improperly motivated.
So I returned to the doctor's body to try and cure others in the hope of curing myself. I took care of two of my ailing companions - we ghouls. But I always flee from the mind of the doctor for the wings of the bird - and thus it was when dealing with what I could not fix around me this week.
I remained inside the bird while my old friend Bert - very much a non-ghoul - begged for my transformation into a more recognizable form. It seems that everyone becomes a bird in his presence. The bird may be free, but is cowardly. It takes a strong person to find the cowardice of others so easily. Unfortunately, strength can come in some incongruous forms.
But, as I always do, I stepped into the skin that I brought with me to Mozambique - and that matches most closely with my spirit. I hopped in and took my students on a ride through Portuguese, English, Chemistry, Math and Biology. We had very successful voyages, and our biology trip ended in unprecedented victory in the form of the high test grades I discovered this weekend. It's this skin I miss the most and I hope to be able to stay within for the rest of my life.
The life of a ghoul is tiring and unsatisfying. Diary, I sincerely hope that I can dispense with this jumping around soon, whether it be here in Africa or back in the States. What I fear is that the same forces that have caused me to jump around so much here may not disappear when I find myself in my native land. So this fear feeds my desire to understand these other skins and comprehend why it is that I need them close by.
Diary, one day I'll get all this. I'm getting closer, little by little.
Peace
John
I apologize. It has been far too long without telling you what's going on in my life. You see, I had a tough week and I really didn't feel like trying to recap it in a few words here and there. I feel like I would be doing you a disservice. So I'm going to try and paint you a picture of what I've felt like lately.
I feel like a ghoul who moves in and out of various skins, occupying them for a time with a common, unidentifiable spirit.
I spent some time in the body of a doctor who makes house calls, trying to repair the spirit and wrist of a kid who saw his best friend killed.
I hopped into that of a poltergeist, furiously detecting any hint of cheating and dismissing all who tried to pass. Many students suffered at the point of my red pen.
I found temporary lodging in the accustomed mask of a freak - accustomed in the sense of being resigned to his strangeness. It's a mask that seems to be worn quite often, for hours or even days at a time. It is a sad and dark mask, and it longs to be removed. It's a mask that tries to be just that - it wishes for its own nonexistence.
I even found myself looking into the mirror at a grimy investigator, tracking down culprits in the case of a robbery. I'm unhappy in this skin as well, because it is vengeful and improperly motivated.
So I returned to the doctor's body to try and cure others in the hope of curing myself. I took care of two of my ailing companions - we ghouls. But I always flee from the mind of the doctor for the wings of the bird - and thus it was when dealing with what I could not fix around me this week.
I remained inside the bird while my old friend Bert - very much a non-ghoul - begged for my transformation into a more recognizable form. It seems that everyone becomes a bird in his presence. The bird may be free, but is cowardly. It takes a strong person to find the cowardice of others so easily. Unfortunately, strength can come in some incongruous forms.
But, as I always do, I stepped into the skin that I brought with me to Mozambique - and that matches most closely with my spirit. I hopped in and took my students on a ride through Portuguese, English, Chemistry, Math and Biology. We had very successful voyages, and our biology trip ended in unprecedented victory in the form of the high test grades I discovered this weekend. It's this skin I miss the most and I hope to be able to stay within for the rest of my life.
The life of a ghoul is tiring and unsatisfying. Diary, I sincerely hope that I can dispense with this jumping around soon, whether it be here in Africa or back in the States. What I fear is that the same forces that have caused me to jump around so much here may not disappear when I find myself in my native land. So this fear feeds my desire to understand these other skins and comprehend why it is that I need them close by.
Diary, one day I'll get all this. I'm getting closer, little by little.
Peace
John
03/24/2004
So, on Monday morning, a kid fainted during the national anthem, and everyone just stood around like nothing had happened, continuing to sing. I helped the kid out and a minute later, another teacher came by to help. 400 students and 10 teachers, and the white guy goes and helps - irony being that nobody said anything afterwards - in a kind of way, that's what everyone expected to happen.
On Monday evening, Nanosh fainted in a restaurant, and everyone looked over to see what was going on. Nobody said anything, because it's just weird to see it.
Tuesday afternoon, the father of the kids who stole our things sat there nervously while his kids lied through their teeth and, as we've learned, something they're quite accustomed to doing. And there's nothing we can do.
Tuesday sometime, my fan decided to stop working.
This morning the woman who washes my clothes now didn't come, but left a message with one of our neighbors that tomorrow, a relative of hers would come to wash my clothes.
Today, another teacher tried to get our test typed up, but managed to foul it up so incredibly that most of the questions are illegible or have so many errors, it's difficult for ME to read. And they left off 20% of the test.
I proctored two tests to the delight and surprise of some 300 screaming and yelling kids. Nobody else gets a reception like that.
I went to use the Internet to help a teacher out, but we both ended up wasting our time as the Internet wasn't working.
Today was my "day off". I missed my Changana lesson with Alfredo. I also missed lunch.
All told, I don't have a cellphone, a wallet, bank card, credit card, clean clothes, well-made tests, a working fan, or the slightest desire to be pitied or to pity myself. Life is like this - period. I still have a lot more going for me than most of the people I'm surrounded by. And I can still say that I'm getting thrown curveballs making life at the very least - interesting.
Peace
John
On Monday evening, Nanosh fainted in a restaurant, and everyone looked over to see what was going on. Nobody said anything, because it's just weird to see it.
Tuesday afternoon, the father of the kids who stole our things sat there nervously while his kids lied through their teeth and, as we've learned, something they're quite accustomed to doing. And there's nothing we can do.
Tuesday sometime, my fan decided to stop working.
This morning the woman who washes my clothes now didn't come, but left a message with one of our neighbors that tomorrow, a relative of hers would come to wash my clothes.
Today, another teacher tried to get our test typed up, but managed to foul it up so incredibly that most of the questions are illegible or have so many errors, it's difficult for ME to read. And they left off 20% of the test.
I proctored two tests to the delight and surprise of some 300 screaming and yelling kids. Nobody else gets a reception like that.
I went to use the Internet to help a teacher out, but we both ended up wasting our time as the Internet wasn't working.
Today was my "day off". I missed my Changana lesson with Alfredo. I also missed lunch.
All told, I don't have a cellphone, a wallet, bank card, credit card, clean clothes, well-made tests, a working fan, or the slightest desire to be pitied or to pity myself. Life is like this - period. I still have a lot more going for me than most of the people I'm surrounded by. And I can still say that I'm getting thrown curveballs making life at the very least - interesting.
Peace
John
03/23/2004
It's just all so complicated, I don't even want to get into it - yesterday and today. So I'll just boil it down. Yesterday, we talked with the father of the boys, and though the mother confirmed the identity of sandals left at the Canadians' house (in her own way), and Latify saw the boy, the only thing we could do was go to the police. We did, and the father, sweating profusely and shaking, listened to the coached responses of his children. Alfredo knows the police, and got them to talk to the older kid alone, and report back to us. But the problem is still there and it looks as if they will get away with it.
Peace
John
Peace
John
03/21/2004
I don't want to say I'm once again embittered, but it would be hard to say that I'm all that happy. I feel like I'm stuck in the Peace Corps experience (redundantly, that feeling is part OF the experience) and not actually living. I feel like I only fit into one place here - school, and that is in a limited context - and the rest of my daily experiences are spent as an outsider because of religion, race, culture, personal decisions, money, educational status or simple personality. I truly feel that I cannot be myself happily here, and as I was happy with who I was before I left for here, I am afraid of permanently losing that, simply because I have to survive in this environment.
What's keeping me here? Well, there's sheer determination, pride, etc., but the only one that truly convinces me is the students. I understand, finally, what is meant when a teacher says they love their students. It's not because their students are these perfect, wonderful angels, or that they are always showering their teacher with love and affection. It's because we live in a very real world and school is all about what CAN be. You study to be something more than you are, you study material that goes above and beyond what you know or will ever need to know. And students ask questions that show they're not content with what you've presented. True, the vast majority of students (anywhere)just want to pass and get the piece of paper that says they did. But I love the students because I can be idealistic and hope with them, because they want to have the same hope about their lives. There's some carnal level of existence that we share which allows us to communicate in this almost artificial way - about this universe that will most likely never exist. I look at them and see them as housewives, truck drivers and farmers, but every once in a while I see a nurse or social worker. And, like them, I feel like I'm in the presence of something special and unique.
But then I step out of school, away from the hope and equally random harassment, and it seems that I'm in a heartless and harsh world. I've been in this mood plenty of times before, and I just can't bring myself to shake how foreign I feel. I know it's not just me. Almost all non-Mozambicans here in town feel this way.
What happened this time? Well, in Saturday, Nanosh, Jenna and I went to a barbecue hosted by Annie and Charles, attended by Alfredo, Oscar, Blake and Albertina, and Latifa. We made a wonderful combination of American grill-out food and Mozambican party food. Charles and I even got the balls up to kill a couple of chickens, and then Nanosh dressed them. Charles and I agree that killing the thing is a whole lot easier than plucking and cutting. Though I must admit that killing a chicken is something that neither I nor most people who know me would expect I'd do. But I told myself that if I were going to eat the thing again, I had to kil it at some point. I suppose it's poetic that I've finally come around to valuing my own life more than another animal's.
In any case, after dinner, at about 10:30, we were all sitting outside, having a wonderful chat, when Latifa shouts "Estao a (Mom can't read this word)!" from inside, alterting us to a robbery in progress. Charles, Alfredo and Oscar gave chase only to later come up with a muddy kid who ended up not being the one (but an accomplice, nonetheless) and Nanosh and I both lost our cellphones and I lost my wallet (nothing else was taken). Annie felt horrible, but all we could say was that we were lucky nobody was hurt and it could have all been a lot worse. Really, we just feel violated - mainly because it was Annie and Charles' neighbor.
Charles and Annie spoke with the two kids' father today and they determined that he would "investigate" but when it came to this evening, and Nanosh and I were there, we were basically given the feeling that he had done nothing. My thinking is that the father won't do anything, and we'll go to the police where even less will end up happening, because we're white and the system isn't there to protect US.
So, quite easily, we'll most likely be out money and cellphones (and a wallet I REALLY liked :)) which are just material items, but we'll be without them because we aren't members of the community and in some sense we don't belong here. Our Western idea of fairness is massively damaged, but more importantly, it rattles our desire to be in the middle of a city that essentially resents us. Kingston and (a name that Mom can't read) live in teacher areas in much more rural settings, only half an hour from here, and there's even some teacher housing for my school just a few minutes down the road. The temptation to get out into the middle of nowhere is huge.
In college, I was in an urban setting for 5 years, likewise here. I was born and raised in calm, quiet areas and I think it's really taken its toll on me. I need room to be and not feel cramped. I need to feel accepted by more than my roommate and a handful of other people who've been in other cultures. I hate thinking like this, because this whole experience was an exercise in putting away every ounce of selfish desire possible.
But maybe I've done that without the piece of paper. Maybe it's time to start allowing myself to be selfish again and take hold of what I need and give what I can to others. Maybe I've truly hit the wall.
I keep telling myself that this experience isn't about the "experience", about me, the US, Mozambique - it's about teaching. Whatever else happens is completely coincidental. If I can't be a good teacher, then what use am I? And when I look through that pair of rose-colored glasses, I get mad when people take advantage of me or treat me as less than human. All I want to be is a teacher - and the district puts us in a bat-infested house, the...enough.
As I said to Nanosh, the worst part isn't that I don't understand why we're treated poorly, but that I understand exactly why. And I have to say that if I were in the opposite position, I wouldn't necessarily be able to swallow it all. I might feel the same way.
So - enough.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow is the beginning of the trimesterly exams, and in a change for this year, we have lessons during exam week. I'm not quite sure how I feel about this yet. I think the ends could justify the means, or it could be really hard on the students. So for about half my classes, I'm giving reviews for the biology exam and in the other half, I'm offering my services in studying other subjects. I've got Bio, Portuguese, Chemistry, Physics, English and Math expertise that I can offer, and I think the students will take advantage of this (they really liked the idea of study sessions with me, anyway). So I'm excited to start helping them tomorrow and to try my hand at a few other subjects.
Well, I've come to the end of my 10th journal now, and this one has lasted about 3 1/2 months, probably the most uneventful stretch of my time here, but a great time for figuring out what I'm doing here. If the next journal should last 3 months, I'll be talking about the end of the second trimester and the "home stretch". And maybe it'll be cold by then (knock on wood!)
Peace
John
What's keeping me here? Well, there's sheer determination, pride, etc., but the only one that truly convinces me is the students. I understand, finally, what is meant when a teacher says they love their students. It's not because their students are these perfect, wonderful angels, or that they are always showering their teacher with love and affection. It's because we live in a very real world and school is all about what CAN be. You study to be something more than you are, you study material that goes above and beyond what you know or will ever need to know. And students ask questions that show they're not content with what you've presented. True, the vast majority of students (anywhere)just want to pass and get the piece of paper that says they did. But I love the students because I can be idealistic and hope with them, because they want to have the same hope about their lives. There's some carnal level of existence that we share which allows us to communicate in this almost artificial way - about this universe that will most likely never exist. I look at them and see them as housewives, truck drivers and farmers, but every once in a while I see a nurse or social worker. And, like them, I feel like I'm in the presence of something special and unique.
But then I step out of school, away from the hope and equally random harassment, and it seems that I'm in a heartless and harsh world. I've been in this mood plenty of times before, and I just can't bring myself to shake how foreign I feel. I know it's not just me. Almost all non-Mozambicans here in town feel this way.
What happened this time? Well, in Saturday, Nanosh, Jenna and I went to a barbecue hosted by Annie and Charles, attended by Alfredo, Oscar, Blake and Albertina, and Latifa. We made a wonderful combination of American grill-out food and Mozambican party food. Charles and I even got the balls up to kill a couple of chickens, and then Nanosh dressed them. Charles and I agree that killing the thing is a whole lot easier than plucking and cutting. Though I must admit that killing a chicken is something that neither I nor most people who know me would expect I'd do. But I told myself that if I were going to eat the thing again, I had to kil it at some point. I suppose it's poetic that I've finally come around to valuing my own life more than another animal's.
In any case, after dinner, at about 10:30, we were all sitting outside, having a wonderful chat, when Latifa shouts "Estao a (Mom can't read this word)!" from inside, alterting us to a robbery in progress. Charles, Alfredo and Oscar gave chase only to later come up with a muddy kid who ended up not being the one (but an accomplice, nonetheless) and Nanosh and I both lost our cellphones and I lost my wallet (nothing else was taken). Annie felt horrible, but all we could say was that we were lucky nobody was hurt and it could have all been a lot worse. Really, we just feel violated - mainly because it was Annie and Charles' neighbor.
Charles and Annie spoke with the two kids' father today and they determined that he would "investigate" but when it came to this evening, and Nanosh and I were there, we were basically given the feeling that he had done nothing. My thinking is that the father won't do anything, and we'll go to the police where even less will end up happening, because we're white and the system isn't there to protect US.
So, quite easily, we'll most likely be out money and cellphones (and a wallet I REALLY liked :)) which are just material items, but we'll be without them because we aren't members of the community and in some sense we don't belong here. Our Western idea of fairness is massively damaged, but more importantly, it rattles our desire to be in the middle of a city that essentially resents us. Kingston and (a name that Mom can't read) live in teacher areas in much more rural settings, only half an hour from here, and there's even some teacher housing for my school just a few minutes down the road. The temptation to get out into the middle of nowhere is huge.
In college, I was in an urban setting for 5 years, likewise here. I was born and raised in calm, quiet areas and I think it's really taken its toll on me. I need room to be and not feel cramped. I need to feel accepted by more than my roommate and a handful of other people who've been in other cultures. I hate thinking like this, because this whole experience was an exercise in putting away every ounce of selfish desire possible.
But maybe I've done that without the piece of paper. Maybe it's time to start allowing myself to be selfish again and take hold of what I need and give what I can to others. Maybe I've truly hit the wall.
I keep telling myself that this experience isn't about the "experience", about me, the US, Mozambique - it's about teaching. Whatever else happens is completely coincidental. If I can't be a good teacher, then what use am I? And when I look through that pair of rose-colored glasses, I get mad when people take advantage of me or treat me as less than human. All I want to be is a teacher - and the district puts us in a bat-infested house, the...enough.
As I said to Nanosh, the worst part isn't that I don't understand why we're treated poorly, but that I understand exactly why. And I have to say that if I were in the opposite position, I wouldn't necessarily be able to swallow it all. I might feel the same way.
So - enough.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow is the beginning of the trimesterly exams, and in a change for this year, we have lessons during exam week. I'm not quite sure how I feel about this yet. I think the ends could justify the means, or it could be really hard on the students. So for about half my classes, I'm giving reviews for the biology exam and in the other half, I'm offering my services in studying other subjects. I've got Bio, Portuguese, Chemistry, Physics, English and Math expertise that I can offer, and I think the students will take advantage of this (they really liked the idea of study sessions with me, anyway). So I'm excited to start helping them tomorrow and to try my hand at a few other subjects.
Well, I've come to the end of my 10th journal now, and this one has lasted about 3 1/2 months, probably the most uneventful stretch of my time here, but a great time for figuring out what I'm doing here. If the next journal should last 3 months, I'll be talking about the end of the second trimester and the "home stretch". And maybe it'll be cold by then (knock on wood!)
Peace
John
03/19/2004
Well, it sounds like the plot may have been simpler - just Nalia switching tests. If it ends up being the case, I've got some apologizing to do, but some punishing at the same time.
Today was just a crappy day. I had three tests to give and I caught so many cheaters, I hesitate to count. For my worst turma, I gave slightly easier ACS and they responded by doing much better on the test than they did for the first ACS (quiz or test). Progress.
My brain is pretty fried and full, and I just need to let it unwind.
Peace
John
Today was just a crappy day. I had three tests to give and I caught so many cheaters, I hesitate to count. For my worst turma, I gave slightly easier ACS and they responded by doing much better on the test than they did for the first ACS (quiz or test). Progress.
My brain is pretty fried and full, and I just need to let it unwind.
Peace
John
03/18/2004
Some cheating is on an entirely different level than anything I've heard of before.
The students sit two to a desk - desks that are built for two (sometimes three). From a capacity standpoint, good, from an evaluation standpoint, bad. So I give them variants - one test for the left side of the desk, one for the right side. It ends up that the only ways for them to cheat are by looking in front or in back. I catch most who use books, cheat sheets, or speak with others during the test. Really, I've eliminated most ways to cheat. Except for one.
It's easy to catch someone looking at another paper or talking with someone else because they have to do it for so long to get anything out of it, and they're usually looking at me before they do it. But a preplanned switch of tests is easy to pull off because it only takes a second. So here's what I knew about the situation before two students solved the mystery for me.
As I collect the two tests at every desk together, one should always be one variant and the other test should always be the other variant. If two tests are the same, then I know someone has cheated (or royally screwed up). So bells went off when I noticed Fernando (one of my best students) and Sarita handed in tests from the same variant, from the same desk.
As I always wait until I get home to separate each desk, I only noticed this at home. At the time, I thought it was strange because I didn't remember these two sitting with each other, but went ahead and gave both of them zeroes, knowing they would complain. But I figured I would feel it out.
So I handed the tests back, and sure enough they complained. But they were giving different, muddy stories of what had happened because they were trying to talk simultaneously. I told them to write down what had happened on a single piece of paper, thinking they'd write one paper. I took back their tests so I could grade them in case I changed my mind.
Before I had the chance to look at anything though, two other girls in the class came up to me. They explained that Sarita and Fernando in fact were NOT sitting next to each other - to which I asked, "How did they manage to end up with their tests together?" Well, Sarita was sitting BEHIND Fernando, and another girl, Nalia, was sitting next to Fernando. Apparently, Nalia did the same variant as Fernando, cheating off him, and Sarita was supposed to do the same variant as her deskmate, to cheat off another girl, Demetria. (Recap: Fernando and Nalia in front of Sarita and Demetria.) Fernando and Demetria both are good students. Then, Sarita and Nalia switched papers, the objective being that they'd copy off better students and I wouldn't notice. Well, Sarita screwed up and did the wrong side, so I noticed. Nalia did the same side as Fernando, so the switch hid her cheating. After learning this information, Fernando's write-up confirms it all and Sarita's write-up denies "whatever anyone says about switching".
Peace
John
The students sit two to a desk - desks that are built for two (sometimes three). From a capacity standpoint, good, from an evaluation standpoint, bad. So I give them variants - one test for the left side of the desk, one for the right side. It ends up that the only ways for them to cheat are by looking in front or in back. I catch most who use books, cheat sheets, or speak with others during the test. Really, I've eliminated most ways to cheat. Except for one.
It's easy to catch someone looking at another paper or talking with someone else because they have to do it for so long to get anything out of it, and they're usually looking at me before they do it. But a preplanned switch of tests is easy to pull off because it only takes a second. So here's what I knew about the situation before two students solved the mystery for me.
As I collect the two tests at every desk together, one should always be one variant and the other test should always be the other variant. If two tests are the same, then I know someone has cheated (or royally screwed up). So bells went off when I noticed Fernando (one of my best students) and Sarita handed in tests from the same variant, from the same desk.
As I always wait until I get home to separate each desk, I only noticed this at home. At the time, I thought it was strange because I didn't remember these two sitting with each other, but went ahead and gave both of them zeroes, knowing they would complain. But I figured I would feel it out.
So I handed the tests back, and sure enough they complained. But they were giving different, muddy stories of what had happened because they were trying to talk simultaneously. I told them to write down what had happened on a single piece of paper, thinking they'd write one paper. I took back their tests so I could grade them in case I changed my mind.
Before I had the chance to look at anything though, two other girls in the class came up to me. They explained that Sarita and Fernando in fact were NOT sitting next to each other - to which I asked, "How did they manage to end up with their tests together?" Well, Sarita was sitting BEHIND Fernando, and another girl, Nalia, was sitting next to Fernando. Apparently, Nalia did the same variant as Fernando, cheating off him, and Sarita was supposed to do the same variant as her deskmate, to cheat off another girl, Demetria. (Recap: Fernando and Nalia in front of Sarita and Demetria.) Fernando and Demetria both are good students. Then, Sarita and Nalia switched papers, the objective being that they'd copy off better students and I wouldn't notice. Well, Sarita screwed up and did the wrong side, so I noticed. Nalia did the same side as Fernando, so the switch hid her cheating. After learning this information, Fernando's write-up confirms it all and Sarita's write-up denies "whatever anyone says about switching".
Peace
John
03/17/2004
It seems to me that today's St. Patrick's Day. I think I lost Mother's or Father's Day somewhere in there. I'm sure there was a President's Day at some point, a Veteran's Day and a Patriot Day, Secretary's Day, Boss' Day...
Today was my weekly day off, or so it's said. From sunup to now (10:30PM), I was busy doing work or in a meeting of some sort.
I'm learning more Changana by the day, and I'm realizing more and more that I should put it all together in a textbook of some sort, that is easy to read and in English (!)
Alfredo is finally being challenged - I could tell today that I had given him some really hard questions, as he had to think about them for a while. Though I know a lot, my vocabulary and ability to put words together is still suffering, though I'm improving.
Kingston's in the hospital with malaria, and I have yet to visit him. I must do that tomorrow sometime.
My hand's tired from writing, my brain's tired from thinking about biology.
Peace
John
Today was my weekly day off, or so it's said. From sunup to now (10:30PM), I was busy doing work or in a meeting of some sort.
I'm learning more Changana by the day, and I'm realizing more and more that I should put it all together in a textbook of some sort, that is easy to read and in English (!)
Alfredo is finally being challenged - I could tell today that I had given him some really hard questions, as he had to think about them for a while. Though I know a lot, my vocabulary and ability to put words together is still suffering, though I'm improving.
Kingston's in the hospital with malaria, and I have yet to visit him. I must do that tomorrow sometime.
My hand's tired from writing, my brain's tired from thinking about biology.
Peace
John
Saturday, April 10, 2004
03/16/2004
I caught myself daydreaming about day camp this morning. It was all the weather's fault. This morning it was brisk (low 70s) with a slight mist, plenty of humidity and a sun that was promising to beat down on you later in the day. It reminded me completely of waiting for the bus to take me to day camp, and how nice that silence was - how anticipatory it was of the day ahead.
And just like then, my day today was very busy, but in so different a way that it is difficult to describe how strange I feel continuing this metaphor. My biggest challenges then and now are social ones, but the very fact that I was the age of my youngest students when I was in day camp, and my oldest students are my age now - well, to think of my life proceeding so slowly just to come to a head a few years later, as is expected of most Mozambicans - it's mind-boggling. In the span of about 12 years I've changed almost completely as a person, from objectives to knowledge to personality, and I feel like if I were Mozambican, that would never be possible.
Peace
John
And just like then, my day today was very busy, but in so different a way that it is difficult to describe how strange I feel continuing this metaphor. My biggest challenges then and now are social ones, but the very fact that I was the age of my youngest students when I was in day camp, and my oldest students are my age now - well, to think of my life proceeding so slowly just to come to a head a few years later, as is expected of most Mozambicans - it's mind-boggling. In the span of about 12 years I've changed almost completely as a person, from objectives to knowledge to personality, and I feel like if I were Mozambican, that would never be possible.
Peace
John
03/15/2004
In between my four morning and two afternoon classes today, I showed around two Peace Corps staff members from Maputo. I was to tell them all about the projects that I'm involved in and how I got that way - in doing so, I realized how integrated I am into my site and how much my hands are dipped into. I suppose it's a nice feeling, knowing and seeing how far I've come, but realizing once again that I'm working towards ends I'm about to abandon, is somewhat depressing. It hasn't really sunk in yet, and I'm not expecting to get "senior-itis" (because I didn't in high school or college), but I feel like it could be demoralizing at some point to envision myself leaving all of this.
When I came back from a weekend in the provincial capital yesterday and stepped onto familiar ground once again, I realized how much like home it's gotten. I guess your bubble of comfort slowly extends outwards from some central location, be that home, work, a friend's place, etc., and slowly you feel more and more comfortable more of the time because it looks and smells and feels the same. We are truly creatures of habit - we need everything to be roughly uniform day in and day out so that we can get our minds around the things that are different and not worry about that which does not matter.
So someday I'll come back here and see the brightly-colored playground and BP gas station on the way to my site, then the bank and the restaurant with the green and yellow awning, then my school, and my house, and it will all seem so wonderful and exciting because it will be another comfortable place for me, like Cleveland, Avon, Collinsville and Canton. But I'll sit and think and wonder what might have happened had I stayed and realized the projects I had started until their logical ends (and not their artificial ends). And I'll forget about all the things I missed and how temporary life truly felt during those months because life will be predictable and the people I missed will be around me once again.
And so it's in these 9 months that I need to make everything happen and I know that I can.
Peace
John
When I came back from a weekend in the provincial capital yesterday and stepped onto familiar ground once again, I realized how much like home it's gotten. I guess your bubble of comfort slowly extends outwards from some central location, be that home, work, a friend's place, etc., and slowly you feel more and more comfortable more of the time because it looks and smells and feels the same. We are truly creatures of habit - we need everything to be roughly uniform day in and day out so that we can get our minds around the things that are different and not worry about that which does not matter.
So someday I'll come back here and see the brightly-colored playground and BP gas station on the way to my site, then the bank and the restaurant with the green and yellow awning, then my school, and my house, and it will all seem so wonderful and exciting because it will be another comfortable place for me, like Cleveland, Avon, Collinsville and Canton. But I'll sit and think and wonder what might have happened had I stayed and realized the projects I had started until their logical ends (and not their artificial ends). And I'll forget about all the things I missed and how temporary life truly felt during those months because life will be predictable and the people I missed will be around me once again.
And so it's in these 9 months that I need to make everything happen and I know that I can.
Peace
John
03/14/2004
Good weekend - not all that relaxing but went to the province capital to meet up with some other volunteers for some beer and conversation. I think we've all been having frustrating discipline problems, etc., because on three separate occasions we got into mock brawls that ended with funny, but real, bruises. I've never been hit or hit others as much in my life, but using Jake, Chris and Zack as human punching bags and being likewise used is very stress-relieving. Definitely the most intense game of Euchre I've playing in my life - one bad play and then BAM! :)
I spent my time on chapas (all told, about 6 hours) listening to the Changana being spoken and picking up on the sense of humor you almost never hear, because it's filtered through another language. When you have to explain a joke, it's no longer funny. But when you can pick up on the timing, the presence, and the context of a joke, but not necessarily all the language, it can still be hilarious. Such was the case with the cobrador (guy who collects money) on my last leg of the trip. He was cracking jokes in Changana the whole time and was a general goofball, wearing a wool hat that sort of flopped around the entire time. It made my extremely uncomfortable seating bearable.
Peace
John
I spent my time on chapas (all told, about 6 hours) listening to the Changana being spoken and picking up on the sense of humor you almost never hear, because it's filtered through another language. When you have to explain a joke, it's no longer funny. But when you can pick up on the timing, the presence, and the context of a joke, but not necessarily all the language, it can still be hilarious. Such was the case with the cobrador (guy who collects money) on my last leg of the trip. He was cracking jokes in Changana the whole time and was a general goofball, wearing a wool hat that sort of flopped around the entire time. It made my extremely uncomfortable seating bearable.
Peace
John
03/12/2004
Ahh, it's raining again. We just got done with rain last weekend, or so we thought, and now we're in for it again. How wonderful. There doesn't seem to be any threat of flooding, and as long as it's not heavy rain, the ground's still absorbing more. It's just the current crops that suffer...and my students get stir crazy and end up going nuts in class.
Speaking of classes, things are going well but I'm still incredibly frustrated. I've worked about a month with the kids on doing basic genetics problems and many of them, if not most, are by any measure still incapable of solving them. I've given two extra sessions a week for the past few weeks, given extra problems to do at home, and now I'll hand out even more to do at home for the semester finals. But it's frustrating to put that much work in and have students - so many - who clearly don't understand a thing, and when asked, seem to not haved a desire to understand.
Lately, I've been feeling that the good that I can do here has been done - that I'm now teaching completely out of their abilities.
Because for all of primary school, they're taught to mimic the teacher - feed back what has been fed. They get to secondary school and the 10th grade exam requires them to go above and beyond. It's like training a mechanic on a bicycle and then throwing them a broken down semi. The mechanic has two choices: bust his ass learning truck repair with a crappy background in bicycle repair, or try and cut a deal with another gearhead who will do it for less and pawn it off as your own work.
I understand the mechanic's dilemma, and I consider myself to be included in the former group. And it seems to me that success in Mozambique as measured by successful people seems to come to those who bust their ass - instead of those who whine "They never trained us for this!" So I want my students to quit whining because I'm giving them the opportunity to pass.
But the dilemma is twofold. They've spent seven years on bicycle repair and I essentially want them to spend two on Mack trucks. Their habits have already been formed. Their capacities have already been defined. Like the bicycle mechanic, they have a limited tool set. I need to teach them how to use tools they don't have.
So I say that all my good has been done because I'm too deep into Mack truck repair to turn back and give them some sort of compromise. There will be some who will never get it, and may buy their way into passing. There will be some who struggle and success, but they already have the tools to success.
I think that the more I try, the more I teach, the better their chances are. I still think that - maybe this whole situation is my own Mack truck.
Peace
John
Speaking of classes, things are going well but I'm still incredibly frustrated. I've worked about a month with the kids on doing basic genetics problems and many of them, if not most, are by any measure still incapable of solving them. I've given two extra sessions a week for the past few weeks, given extra problems to do at home, and now I'll hand out even more to do at home for the semester finals. But it's frustrating to put that much work in and have students - so many - who clearly don't understand a thing, and when asked, seem to not haved a desire to understand.
Lately, I've been feeling that the good that I can do here has been done - that I'm now teaching completely out of their abilities.
Because for all of primary school, they're taught to mimic the teacher - feed back what has been fed. They get to secondary school and the 10th grade exam requires them to go above and beyond. It's like training a mechanic on a bicycle and then throwing them a broken down semi. The mechanic has two choices: bust his ass learning truck repair with a crappy background in bicycle repair, or try and cut a deal with another gearhead who will do it for less and pawn it off as your own work.
I understand the mechanic's dilemma, and I consider myself to be included in the former group. And it seems to me that success in Mozambique as measured by successful people seems to come to those who bust their ass - instead of those who whine "They never trained us for this!" So I want my students to quit whining because I'm giving them the opportunity to pass.
But the dilemma is twofold. They've spent seven years on bicycle repair and I essentially want them to spend two on Mack trucks. Their habits have already been formed. Their capacities have already been defined. Like the bicycle mechanic, they have a limited tool set. I need to teach them how to use tools they don't have.
So I say that all my good has been done because I'm too deep into Mack truck repair to turn back and give them some sort of compromise. There will be some who will never get it, and may buy their way into passing. There will be some who struggle and success, but they already have the tools to success.
I think that the more I try, the more I teach, the better their chances are. I still think that - maybe this whole situation is my own Mack truck.
Peace
John
03/09/2004
I had a great day today. Woke up at 6, gave lessons from 7 to 9:30 to some strangely enthusiastic and quite curious 10th graders. I checked e-mail, did some shopping, ate some lunch and prepared for the afternoon classes. I have two action-packed lessons on parts of the human body, then went and gave a 30-minute tutoring session in English to an old guy. I stopped home for about 45 minutes, conversed in Changana with Alfredo for a while, then was back at school for extra Biology help. The kids and I got a lot done and I ended up teaching until they had to go home at 5:30.
The reason why it was so great is that the last lesson, the Bio session, went so well after a tiring day. The students were so willing to try what I wanted them to try, and my spontaneous planning led to such productive results, that I couldn't help but smile. Almost all of them are my students from last year who have come to realize that I try to make dry subjects fun, sometimes in spite of it all. It's a nice feeling when that's essentially recognized.
Also, a bunch of students did some research for their trimesterly projects due in about a month. I'm really glad they're going ahead with the work and I'm optimistic that I'll see some creative projects.
In listening to what disappointments and frustration Nanosh and I have every day, I'm beginning to realize that the life of a teacher who truly cares about their students is a tough one to maintain. It's far easier to step back from the situation and just teach; it's a lot harder to break the fourth wall and introduce yourself into the learning process. When you have a personal stake in getting the material understood, every battle is felt strongly and apathy stings like nothing else. I couldn't understand not putting myself in that situation, but I guess that's just me.
Likewise, it's nice to see local teachers who do the same.
Peace
John
The reason why it was so great is that the last lesson, the Bio session, went so well after a tiring day. The students were so willing to try what I wanted them to try, and my spontaneous planning led to such productive results, that I couldn't help but smile. Almost all of them are my students from last year who have come to realize that I try to make dry subjects fun, sometimes in spite of it all. It's a nice feeling when that's essentially recognized.
Also, a bunch of students did some research for their trimesterly projects due in about a month. I'm really glad they're going ahead with the work and I'm optimistic that I'll see some creative projects.
In listening to what disappointments and frustration Nanosh and I have every day, I'm beginning to realize that the life of a teacher who truly cares about their students is a tough one to maintain. It's far easier to step back from the situation and just teach; it's a lot harder to break the fourth wall and introduce yourself into the learning process. When you have a personal stake in getting the material understood, every battle is felt strongly and apathy stings like nothing else. I couldn't understand not putting myself in that situation, but I guess that's just me.
Likewise, it's nice to see local teachers who do the same.
Peace
John
03/09/2004
Weekend spend inside because of major rains outside. Out in-progress palhota is currently a swimming pool. The river is becoming a swamp and streets are replacing the river. I can hear a chorus of frogs outside my window. It's cool enough to not use a fan (74 degrees F), very cold for this time of year. People are wearing winter jackets (us included).
I have to start thinking about my break now. Thinking about going to Zambia or Lesotho...
Peace
John
I have to start thinking about my break now. Thinking about going to Zambia or Lesotho...
Peace
John
03/05/2004
Life seems to be the opposite of an impressionist painting - the further you get away from a situation, the more clearly you see what it really is and the less you're blinded by your own perception. I've been seeing American society for the scary reality lately from an outsider's point of view. It's downright surreal how easy and media-driven American lives are. I don't know if I'll hold myself to it, but I've sworn that I won't have a computer or cable TV when I get back. If I want to watch a hockey game, I'll have to at least be social doing it, if not actually watch one in person. If I want to check e-mail, I'll have to find a public or friend's computer. I don't want a cell phone either, but I may have no choice soon.
I've been thinking about career options, and I definitely want to continue my education and my involvement in the theater, but not be necessarily tied down to one or the other. I think I'd be content to find an interesting and low-to-mid-paying job while taking community college courses and acting in local theater.
But then again, as Kingston told me, I shouldn't write off a future in Mozambique. The possibilities for the English school are great here, and if it should happen and be sustainable, I might be able to realize some dreams as they come to education.
My concern, and this was just cemented today, is that the educational system doesn't promote pattern recognition, which is a critical aspect of the learning process. So people feel like school is something apart from real-life learning and sever the connection between life and school, forever condemning their "education" to memorized facts. My struggles stem from the fact that I require pattern recognition and all the students know, is how to memorize every problem's resolution. It's as if, from a very early age, students have the choice of digging two holes - one hole is to recognize the innate patterns in information and another is to ignore them completely. I feel like these two holes separate like a V and my students are too far down their hole to get back to the one I want them to be in. Sometimes I feel like I'm doing them a disservice by not teaching the "memorize" way as well as I can, because then I match their learning style and help them more for the exams. But my conscience won't allow it. I get enough "Ohhh!" moments that I feel justified, but enough run-ins with administration and other teachers that I question my motives.
So I feel that maybe if I could start young with a group of kids, in a school with a different philosophy, I could really make a lasting difference. But I have no pedagogical training other than my experience here - another reason to keep my education going. Though I've heard that school just prepares you for more school (and to some extent I buy that), I'm not willing to write off an education in education.
What it comes down to is that I made an essentially selfish decision to get away from what I was disgusted by, in order to realize that I want to spend my life figuring out how to help out - and it might turn out that this help is best applied where I can fit in the best, the very place I was running from and with the very people whom I didn't include in that decision.
With 9 months left, I should figure out how I can apply what I'm doing here to helping out back in the states.
Peace
John
I've been thinking about career options, and I definitely want to continue my education and my involvement in the theater, but not be necessarily tied down to one or the other. I think I'd be content to find an interesting and low-to-mid-paying job while taking community college courses and acting in local theater.
But then again, as Kingston told me, I shouldn't write off a future in Mozambique. The possibilities for the English school are great here, and if it should happen and be sustainable, I might be able to realize some dreams as they come to education.
My concern, and this was just cemented today, is that the educational system doesn't promote pattern recognition, which is a critical aspect of the learning process. So people feel like school is something apart from real-life learning and sever the connection between life and school, forever condemning their "education" to memorized facts. My struggles stem from the fact that I require pattern recognition and all the students know, is how to memorize every problem's resolution. It's as if, from a very early age, students have the choice of digging two holes - one hole is to recognize the innate patterns in information and another is to ignore them completely. I feel like these two holes separate like a V and my students are too far down their hole to get back to the one I want them to be in. Sometimes I feel like I'm doing them a disservice by not teaching the "memorize" way as well as I can, because then I match their learning style and help them more for the exams. But my conscience won't allow it. I get enough "Ohhh!" moments that I feel justified, but enough run-ins with administration and other teachers that I question my motives.
So I feel that maybe if I could start young with a group of kids, in a school with a different philosophy, I could really make a lasting difference. But I have no pedagogical training other than my experience here - another reason to keep my education going. Though I've heard that school just prepares you for more school (and to some extent I buy that), I'm not willing to write off an education in education.
What it comes down to is that I made an essentially selfish decision to get away from what I was disgusted by, in order to realize that I want to spend my life figuring out how to help out - and it might turn out that this help is best applied where I can fit in the best, the very place I was running from and with the very people whom I didn't include in that decision.
With 9 months left, I should figure out how I can apply what I'm doing here to helping out back in the states.
Peace
John
03/04/2004
I lectured a turma today for about 10 minutes straight because they didn't leave me alone the entire day about taking their class early. See, if a turma isn't in class, they always try to get teachers to teach their class ahead of time. This turma had managed to get two free times because of absences and the last time (period) had already presented their class. Since I was the second to last teacher for the day, I was the only thing keeping them from going home. The entire day they asked for me to teach their class, and I kept saying no because I had other classes to teach. They then asked to sit in on another lesson, and I told them no because the lessons were different.
When I finally (!) arrived to teach their class, many students had already left and of those that stayed, quite a few started openly complaining that I never taught their class the whole day, as if it were insulting.
Well, I ripped into them and touched on everything about why they're here - is it to pass or just to say you watched the lesson (I've given up on "for education") - that it's not the teacher who waits on the students but vice versa, that I don't teach because of money, but I want to have them understand, which can't be done in an out-of-order lesson, etc.
I felt bad ripping into them like that, but they're adults and act like little kids who couldn't care less about school - that is, they don't want to miss the lesson because that would be the supreme failure; they don't have any drive (most of the students) to understand because they either don't see the relationship between understanding and performance, or don't care because they can buy their way through. And when it comes down to it, even the best motivation in the world can't make someone want to understand when they don't want to.
I still don't know how best to motivate my students - 25% are always motivated and 25% will never be. It's that 50% in the middle that's got me stuck.
Peace
John
When I finally (!) arrived to teach their class, many students had already left and of those that stayed, quite a few started openly complaining that I never taught their class the whole day, as if it were insulting.
Well, I ripped into them and touched on everything about why they're here - is it to pass or just to say you watched the lesson (I've given up on "for education") - that it's not the teacher who waits on the students but vice versa, that I don't teach because of money, but I want to have them understand, which can't be done in an out-of-order lesson, etc.
I felt bad ripping into them like that, but they're adults and act like little kids who couldn't care less about school - that is, they don't want to miss the lesson because that would be the supreme failure; they don't have any drive (most of the students) to understand because they either don't see the relationship between understanding and performance, or don't care because they can buy their way through. And when it comes down to it, even the best motivation in the world can't make someone want to understand when they don't want to.
I still don't know how best to motivate my students - 25% are always motivated and 25% will never be. It's that 50% in the middle that's got me stuck.
Peace
John
03/03/2004
I had my first Changana class with Alfredo in over a year today. I told him I wanted to cover interrogatives, so we talked about interrogatives for about an hour and a half. I think I asked him some hard questions (smirk), but he was more than up to the challenge. He is really an incredibly intelligent man because he could explain to me the reason why things are said the way they're said, clearly and succinctly. He's a master scientist of Changana.
After the lesson, I asked him whether he'd gone to university and he said that he hadn't yet. He's waiting to start his family enough to be able to leave them alone for essentially a few years - though he will be able to come back on the weekends. He wants to study psychology and/or linguistics and for all the right reasons. He wants to understand them both, but only toward his goals of becoming a translator for health workers in local villages. If he realizes his goals before getting his diploma, he'll leave - no problem.
His idealism and work habits are downright inspiring. He knows more English than most teachers here and refuses to just do something "routine" if it could be called that.
Peace
John
After the lesson, I asked him whether he'd gone to university and he said that he hadn't yet. He's waiting to start his family enough to be able to leave them alone for essentially a few years - though he will be able to come back on the weekends. He wants to study psychology and/or linguistics and for all the right reasons. He wants to understand them both, but only toward his goals of becoming a translator for health workers in local villages. If he realizes his goals before getting his diploma, he'll leave - no problem.
His idealism and work habits are downright inspiring. He knows more English than most teachers here and refuses to just do something "routine" if it could be called that.
Peace
John
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