Today was Environmental Day. Four new trees were planted in the front yard in commemoration, and a turma was assigned to take care of them. I hope it happens! I promised other turmas I would help start some gardens for them, too. Not quite sure how to start that, though. Hopefully, we'll see!
After realizing that people beg here in order to receive - expecting to receive, and not just trying as we do in the States - I've made it a policy to always try and give people what they ask for, starting very recently. I've been afraid in the past, but I think people's expectation is that I won't give them what they ask for, whereas a Mozambican would. So maybe if I just give it away, I'll get less requests to give things away, as they realize they're actually begging me and not just playing around. Plus, I can afford to give stuff away. It just requires planning. I really want to teach people how to fish, but I think they need to see that I'm willing to give the fish away in the first place...
And acting along those lines makes me feel better about going to neighbors and asking for simple things like using their water tap or rolador (for making coconut milk). But mainly the image keeps popping into my head of my student who asked for some bread on the street. I retorted by asking her for her bag, and with no hesitation or change of expression, I found an outstretched hand holding her bag...
The Canadians let me borrow a Zen poetry book from their recent acquisitions, a book of poems by Ryokan. One that jumped out at me:
If THERE is beauty, there must be ugliness.
If there is right, there must be wrong.
Wisdom and ignorance are complementary,
And illusion and enlightenment cannot be separated.
This is an old truth, don't think it was discovered recently.
'I want this, I want that'
Is nothing but foolishness.
I'll tell you a secret -
All things are impermanent!
So do memories count as things? Sometimes they seem permanent. Every time I see barbed wire, I see the time in day camp when I took what I thought was a shortcut into well-camouflaged barbed wire at full tilt. I still have the scar to prove it. And I can't look at any barbed wire without seeing that image in my head, however fleeting it is.
I went to the tailor today to get a couple things repaired, including a pair of pants that has in their front pockets, holes the size of my wallet. Not a good feature for a pocket. I've dealt with this for, well, a couple years now, by being creative with my pocket usage. It even got me in the habit of using back pockets all the time. Just because there was something romantic and fun about this particular imperfection. And I'm lazy.
But I think it was the hassle of actually FINDING a tailor, going to the tailor, leaving the clothes, returning to pay, and getting them home for something I could easily do myself (but would never actually take the time to do). Now that I'm here, it's no easier, but I have less stuff and less stuff to compensate with when the stuff I have breaks. You can make things last for a very long time here because of how cheap repair is. And ubiquitous. Cars, bikes, shoes and houses all live well past their expiration dates because of the buy new vs repair gap.
Speaking of something unrelated to the subject I want to write about, I translated for the ladies at the market today. Some South African men came in today, English being their second language. After helping them with their purchases, they said they needed a receipt, which doesn't happen too often at the central market here. Somehow, one of the women had an invoice book, but had no idea how to use it. It was devoid of carbon paper or much evidence of having been used, and she didn't really know how to write. So I ended up writing "Vegetables 200,000.00 Met" and told her to sign it.
Naturally, we had a good laugh afterwards.
Peace
John
Saturday, June 28, 2003
06/04/2003
Today was a hard day. The students refused to follow simple directions, then were completely undisciplined and disrespectful, because my teaching style is so different and language isn't what other professors have (well, duh!), so after class I went to the post office, which was closed, and to a nice quiet, dark area where I could sit and cry a little. Basically, the students don't make me feel human. There are exceptions, but on the whole, I feel like some emotionless space creature. I don't think they care to understand me and how I'm different.
But I put myself in this hole because unlike other professors, I came in treating the students as peers and not as apprentices who know nothing and can only learn what is taught in class. This seems to be the educational disease here, but it's in no way unique to Mozambique. Education. Pooh.
I often think about loved ones and the reason I came here (usually in that order) - to help people. I constantly re-evaluate if I'm helping people, and I think I am, but it's not as effective as it could be.
Peace
John
But I put myself in this hole because unlike other professors, I came in treating the students as peers and not as apprentices who know nothing and can only learn what is taught in class. This seems to be the educational disease here, but it's in no way unique to Mozambique. Education. Pooh.
I often think about loved ones and the reason I came here (usually in that order) - to help people. I constantly re-evaluate if I'm helping people, and I think I am, but it's not as effective as it could be.
Peace
John
06/03/2003
I've been doing a lot of correcting lately. A LOT. It takes an average of 2 hours to do one test for one class. And I have 8 classes, but I've been doing them all in time. And going to all of my classes, teaching full lessons. But that is often quite a challenge as the students want to get going early every day and aren't used to my 45-minute lessons.
It's funny how smells, even the briefest of whiffs, can send you off into another world. It feels like the past all comes rushing back when I smell something familiar or hear an American voice.
English classes are stalled at the moment and I'm trying to get a request to the District director written up.
I lent the chess set to Diamentino so he could practice and hopefully beat me on a regular basis.
The Canadians received 900 books in English, French and Portuguese from donors back home. I borrowed a few of the interesting ones (to me) including a history of Western philosophy, a couple poetry books, the beginning of the Dune series, a book on the American Revolution, and a couple language books. There will be no complaining about a lack of reading material.
Hopefully, Zach and I will take a road trip (bikes) into the matu (country) of our province, on the next full moon.
I should see the "Bike Maintenance" video this weekend that I helped make. It's funny by all accounts.
A student of mine didn't believe me that I could cook. But since I don't have a lot of time TO cook, I stole some traditional dish that Albertina made and offered up a sample as my own. Really, my student has no reason to believe me. But then she asked for what we ended up having for dinner tonight, as well, so I may end up lying twice (I did PARTICIPATE in making it this time, at least). Anything to bust up a stereotype.
Nimi and I will hopefully road trip (cars) out to Monica's site and party with her to break her house in.
I watched another professor's lesson today. She talked at the class for about 20 minutes, asking a couple questions, then dictated the notes for 10 minutes. This is a standard lesson here - and though our system is more developed and useful for the material we teach, it seems to me that there's something in this style I don't yet grasp. Because communication is largely oral, the power of information is huge. To insinuate that knowledge is anything but information, is to strike at the heart of tradition here. But it's not the fault of the teaching that these methods don't work. It's the material. Western knowledge is transmitted multi-dimensionally, because of tradition and resources. Knowledge here is traditionally spread uni-dimensionally, which makes for quite a stir when you try to teach on multiple levels. Just like the other way round. There's something romantically appealing about focusing on someone's train of thought and trying to emulate it. And so this is how learning is taught, by example. In the West, we teach learning by certain methods. When you introduce methods to example-based students, they look at the methods as examples and emulate the methods. It's not that kids don't learn here, they don't learn our way. So I think the goal of education here should be to broaden and deepen the educational system as it currently philosophically exists, and not blindly push our thoughts on education into the system. This is 100% harder than what we're currently doing, as it involves changing how you think.
Peace
John
It's funny how smells, even the briefest of whiffs, can send you off into another world. It feels like the past all comes rushing back when I smell something familiar or hear an American voice.
English classes are stalled at the moment and I'm trying to get a request to the District director written up.
I lent the chess set to Diamentino so he could practice and hopefully beat me on a regular basis.
The Canadians received 900 books in English, French and Portuguese from donors back home. I borrowed a few of the interesting ones (to me) including a history of Western philosophy, a couple poetry books, the beginning of the Dune series, a book on the American Revolution, and a couple language books. There will be no complaining about a lack of reading material.
Hopefully, Zach and I will take a road trip (bikes) into the matu (country) of our province, on the next full moon.
I should see the "Bike Maintenance" video this weekend that I helped make. It's funny by all accounts.
A student of mine didn't believe me that I could cook. But since I don't have a lot of time TO cook, I stole some traditional dish that Albertina made and offered up a sample as my own. Really, my student has no reason to believe me. But then she asked for what we ended up having for dinner tonight, as well, so I may end up lying twice (I did PARTICIPATE in making it this time, at least). Anything to bust up a stereotype.
Nimi and I will hopefully road trip (cars) out to Monica's site and party with her to break her house in.
I watched another professor's lesson today. She talked at the class for about 20 minutes, asking a couple questions, then dictated the notes for 10 minutes. This is a standard lesson here - and though our system is more developed and useful for the material we teach, it seems to me that there's something in this style I don't yet grasp. Because communication is largely oral, the power of information is huge. To insinuate that knowledge is anything but information, is to strike at the heart of tradition here. But it's not the fault of the teaching that these methods don't work. It's the material. Western knowledge is transmitted multi-dimensionally, because of tradition and resources. Knowledge here is traditionally spread uni-dimensionally, which makes for quite a stir when you try to teach on multiple levels. Just like the other way round. There's something romantically appealing about focusing on someone's train of thought and trying to emulate it. And so this is how learning is taught, by example. In the West, we teach learning by certain methods. When you introduce methods to example-based students, they look at the methods as examples and emulate the methods. It's not that kids don't learn here, they don't learn our way. So I think the goal of education here should be to broaden and deepen the educational system as it currently philosophically exists, and not blindly push our thoughts on education into the system. This is 100% harder than what we're currently doing, as it involves changing how you think.
Peace
John
Friday, June 27, 2003
06/02/2003
8 months!
Changana is getting better every day, so it seems, but the progress is going to be so much slower than Portuguese, because I'm not forced to use it as much and I can't just use cognates (but I can cheat and use Portuguese).
Nimi came into town today and we hung out for a bit. He bought $1.25 worth of oranges - one rice sack full. Incredible. And Dona Maria received a package from her son in the US today, with some US money I'll help her exchange. I think the money didn't look real to her, as Mozambican money at first didn't for me.
Peace
John
Changana is getting better every day, so it seems, but the progress is going to be so much slower than Portuguese, because I'm not forced to use it as much and I can't just use cognates (but I can cheat and use Portuguese).
Nimi came into town today and we hung out for a bit. He bought $1.25 worth of oranges - one rice sack full. Incredible. And Dona Maria received a package from her son in the US today, with some US money I'll help her exchange. I think the money didn't look real to her, as Mozambican money at first didn't for me.
Peace
John
06/01/2003
I went to Maputo this weekend. It was 4 hours down, starting at 6:30 AM. I walked to Shop-Rite (more on this), which took about an hour. Then I got myself to a hotel where other volunteers were, visited them and got ice cream, then went to the PC office and finally, just before sunset, got to the site where our host families are so I could eat dinner and spend the night.
It was fun spending some time with Bernardo, Antonio and the rest of the family, but it wasn't enough. The big change was that I know enough Changana now to have simple conversations with my host mom, Regina. Because of her lack of Portuguese, she now rattles things off to me in Changana. I catch less than 50% of it, but I know how to get the gist of what's going on.
Doing without electricity, running water or toilets is good for sleep, and I got the best night's sleep I've had in quite a while - about 10 hours! I just had to go 5 hours away to do it.
And because I was traveling so much, I'm tired and behind on work with a full day ahead of me. So I'll explain the Shop-Rite.
To the north of downtown, in the middle of nowhere, is by every appearance, a normal American shopping mall. As I walked up to it, dodging piles of fly-infested garbage and street vendors, I wasn't quite sure what was going on. This feeling lasted about the entire time.
For eight months now, I've been adjusting to a life devoid of any of the principles that go into a shopping mall. And here I was, dodging cars in a parking lot, staring at the chain stores in front of me. So I walked into the Shop-Rite and realized I could have been in any American supermarket. Subtly different, but there was nothing subtle about the dichotomy of this store set against Mozambique. I was a deer in headlights.
A worker had to stop me to tell me that I had to leave my backpack in front. I grabbed a handbasket and began going down every aisle, not quite sure what to expect. but it was all too familiar. The vacant expressions on people's faces, the fat children, the lack of people staring at me...and aisles upon aisles of stuff I didn't need but found tantalizingly useful. I was disgusted.
Going back to the US will be HARD!
Peace
John
It was fun spending some time with Bernardo, Antonio and the rest of the family, but it wasn't enough. The big change was that I know enough Changana now to have simple conversations with my host mom, Regina. Because of her lack of Portuguese, she now rattles things off to me in Changana. I catch less than 50% of it, but I know how to get the gist of what's going on.
Doing without electricity, running water or toilets is good for sleep, and I got the best night's sleep I've had in quite a while - about 10 hours! I just had to go 5 hours away to do it.
And because I was traveling so much, I'm tired and behind on work with a full day ahead of me. So I'll explain the Shop-Rite.
To the north of downtown, in the middle of nowhere, is by every appearance, a normal American shopping mall. As I walked up to it, dodging piles of fly-infested garbage and street vendors, I wasn't quite sure what was going on. This feeling lasted about the entire time.
For eight months now, I've been adjusting to a life devoid of any of the principles that go into a shopping mall. And here I was, dodging cars in a parking lot, staring at the chain stores in front of me. So I walked into the Shop-Rite and realized I could have been in any American supermarket. Subtly different, but there was nothing subtle about the dichotomy of this store set against Mozambique. I was a deer in headlights.
A worker had to stop me to tell me that I had to leave my backpack in front. I grabbed a handbasket and began going down every aisle, not quite sure what to expect. but it was all too familiar. The vacant expressions on people's faces, the fat children, the lack of people staring at me...and aisles upon aisles of stuff I didn't need but found tantalizingly useful. I was disgusted.
Going back to the US will be HARD!
Peace
John
05/27/2003
I've been trying to get my mind around the HIV/AIDS problem and education - in general - lately.
Why do I have so many discipline problems that relate directly to giving and making understood the information that students are paying to receive? Is it the American sickness of going to school for the diploma and not for the means? Or does it have to do with the fact that I am SO different, that my idea of education is so different, that the kids stop trying to make heads or tails of it?
I have a feeling the last part is the closest to the truth. I've revealed to some of my turmas now that I know some Changana, which immediately gets me more respect. Silence is easier to get, as long as they remember that I'm not just another white guy. And so maybe they're re-evaluating me, for the first time since I showed up with crappy Portuguese and unreasonable expectations. Maybe they're starting to see that I really care.
But I think some kids are still caught up in the messenger instead of the message. I could speak perfect Portuguese, but their mind is not on what I'm trying to say, but on how I say it. There was a notice to be read today, and after I read it, there was a concensus that it ws not well understood (though during it, my pronunciation was corrected on a word that meant they understood), so a student read it. She received a round of applause, mainly to spite me (yes, this is my least favorite turma), even though her recitation was almost exactly like mine - if not worse. I tried to not let it get to me, but it took the back route and is still slightly getting to me.
And this lack of digging deeper is not relegated just to my lessons. When almost any new information is received, the emphasis is on knowing the words, not an understanding of the concept. When I ask "What does that mean, in your own words?", I can see the smoke rising. There's a pause as the student actually THINKS (it's quite visible), then figures out whether they understood it or not. And they'll say nothing rather than say what they think is wrong or say they don't know. It seems fairly universal that there is a fear of physical violence for a wrong answer. I have to convince them "I don't know" IS acceptable.
And so since the emphasis in HIV/AIDS education is informing people, the same trap has been set between information and comprehension.
Peace
John
Why do I have so many discipline problems that relate directly to giving and making understood the information that students are paying to receive? Is it the American sickness of going to school for the diploma and not for the means? Or does it have to do with the fact that I am SO different, that my idea of education is so different, that the kids stop trying to make heads or tails of it?
I have a feeling the last part is the closest to the truth. I've revealed to some of my turmas now that I know some Changana, which immediately gets me more respect. Silence is easier to get, as long as they remember that I'm not just another white guy. And so maybe they're re-evaluating me, for the first time since I showed up with crappy Portuguese and unreasonable expectations. Maybe they're starting to see that I really care.
But I think some kids are still caught up in the messenger instead of the message. I could speak perfect Portuguese, but their mind is not on what I'm trying to say, but on how I say it. There was a notice to be read today, and after I read it, there was a concensus that it ws not well understood (though during it, my pronunciation was corrected on a word that meant they understood), so a student read it. She received a round of applause, mainly to spite me (yes, this is my least favorite turma), even though her recitation was almost exactly like mine - if not worse. I tried to not let it get to me, but it took the back route and is still slightly getting to me.
And this lack of digging deeper is not relegated just to my lessons. When almost any new information is received, the emphasis is on knowing the words, not an understanding of the concept. When I ask "What does that mean, in your own words?", I can see the smoke rising. There's a pause as the student actually THINKS (it's quite visible), then figures out whether they understood it or not. And they'll say nothing rather than say what they think is wrong or say they don't know. It seems fairly universal that there is a fear of physical violence for a wrong answer. I have to convince them "I don't know" IS acceptable.
And so since the emphasis in HIV/AIDS education is informing people, the same trap has been set between information and comprehension.
Peace
John
Thursday, June 26, 2003
05/26/2003
6:30 Will myself out of bed. Stretch.
6:45 Start working out.
7:30 "Shower" and wash dishes
8:00 Eat breakfast
8:30 Correct papers
9:00 Go out to run errands
9:40 Finish up with Internet
9:45 Get to market and chat for a bit, buying several kilos of food.
10:15 Get face time with Primary School Director who is paranoid about my intentions of giving FREE English classes. Practically get kicked out.
10:30 See former English students of mine, tell them what's going on.
10:40 See Diamentino's dad selling oranges. Buy oranges. Buy 3 Met (9 oranges) and pay with a 100 Met bill.
11:00 Arrive at home, drop groceries off to do second run.
11:15 Get eggs, sugar and delicious Lemon Cream crackers.
11:20 Receive a Changana lesson at the Post Office and send a letter.
11:30 Grab bread.
11:40 Arrive home, again. Make leftovers for lunch.
12:00 Get ready for school.
12:20 Arrive at school, prepare for lessons.
12:40 Sing Mozambican national anthem.
12:45 First two classes with my youngest turma. They're very well behaved, only have to chew out Dinho.
14:20 Third class of the day, with my oldest turma. They're a handful today, but at least participating.
15:10 Trade schedules with fellow professor so we can watch each other's classes.
15:30 Go home to get water and pee. Have a small snack and talk with Diamentino.
16:00 Arrive back at school. Meet with Laurenco and talk shop for a while.
16:20 Last two classes of the day. have apathy problems, as usual, with this turma. Give them the "I don't make money for doing this" speech and the "If you only come to class for the notes, why come?" speech.
17:00 Fight breaks out in back of room. One student holds back aggressor, I hold back the other kid and drag him out of the room. "Kid" meaning about my age.
17:20 After "detaining" the aggressor in the room and giving him time to cool down, I send him home. Mark my first red faltas (highest discipline possible) in the book for both kids.
17:50 After getting shaken up over the fight and apathy of the class, I cut the lesson 5 minutes short to the delight of the students.
17:55 Sit alone in the room, decompressing.
18:05 Arrive at hime, start an eggplant Parmesan without the cheese.
20:15 Eat the eggplant Parmesan with one of my students who came by asking about girl trouble. Advice meager.
20:30 Shoo the kids away who watched the whole cooking process, thinking I was cooking something else.
20:35 Clean.
21:00 Start correcting papers and researching questions kids asked me in class.
21:50 Get call from Eric! Whoo!
22:20 Return to correcting papers.
23:30 Enter grades into gradebook.
23:45 Write in journal.
0:00 Bed.
Peace
John
6:45 Start working out.
7:30 "Shower" and wash dishes
8:00 Eat breakfast
8:30 Correct papers
9:00 Go out to run errands
9:40 Finish up with Internet
9:45 Get to market and chat for a bit, buying several kilos of food.
10:15 Get face time with Primary School Director who is paranoid about my intentions of giving FREE English classes. Practically get kicked out.
10:30 See former English students of mine, tell them what's going on.
10:40 See Diamentino's dad selling oranges. Buy oranges. Buy 3 Met (9 oranges) and pay with a 100 Met bill.
11:00 Arrive at home, drop groceries off to do second run.
11:15 Get eggs, sugar and delicious Lemon Cream crackers.
11:20 Receive a Changana lesson at the Post Office and send a letter.
11:30 Grab bread.
11:40 Arrive home, again. Make leftovers for lunch.
12:00 Get ready for school.
12:20 Arrive at school, prepare for lessons.
12:40 Sing Mozambican national anthem.
12:45 First two classes with my youngest turma. They're very well behaved, only have to chew out Dinho.
14:20 Third class of the day, with my oldest turma. They're a handful today, but at least participating.
15:10 Trade schedules with fellow professor so we can watch each other's classes.
15:30 Go home to get water and pee. Have a small snack and talk with Diamentino.
16:00 Arrive back at school. Meet with Laurenco and talk shop for a while.
16:20 Last two classes of the day. have apathy problems, as usual, with this turma. Give them the "I don't make money for doing this" speech and the "If you only come to class for the notes, why come?" speech.
17:00 Fight breaks out in back of room. One student holds back aggressor, I hold back the other kid and drag him out of the room. "Kid" meaning about my age.
17:20 After "detaining" the aggressor in the room and giving him time to cool down, I send him home. Mark my first red faltas (highest discipline possible) in the book for both kids.
17:50 After getting shaken up over the fight and apathy of the class, I cut the lesson 5 minutes short to the delight of the students.
17:55 Sit alone in the room, decompressing.
18:05 Arrive at hime, start an eggplant Parmesan without the cheese.
20:15 Eat the eggplant Parmesan with one of my students who came by asking about girl trouble. Advice meager.
20:30 Shoo the kids away who watched the whole cooking process, thinking I was cooking something else.
20:35 Clean.
21:00 Start correcting papers and researching questions kids asked me in class.
21:50 Get call from Eric! Whoo!
22:20 Return to correcting papers.
23:30 Enter grades into gradebook.
23:45 Write in journal.
0:00 Bed.
Peace
John
05/25/2003
Waiting for a ride from Nimi's site to my own after spending the weekend there, this entry could be short!
Nimi's site is quite in the middle of nowhere, especially for being only an hour out of my city. It is an African village closer to what my original expectations were after training. Using a latrine, going to the market (just got a false alarm...) to find next to no produce, lighting lamps at night and seeing a very new, bright-faced school are all things I thought would be part of my new life, but whether good or bad I don't know.
And Nimi sees different things, different suffering than I do. He sees funerals 3 or 4 times a day because of AIDS. He hears of civil violence unheard of in the States. I'm really quite sheltered from most of that, and it almost feels like I'm not getting the full experience.
Nimi has organized a performance group from Maputo to come to his school, and we saw (I got picked up..where was I?) them perform - they're very good, clear and motivated. We went out for drinks afterwards and had a great time discussing world politics, African culture and stale crackers. Hopefully, I'll be able to get the same thing at my school, though I imagine the experience would be completely different.
I was able to hold my own in a quite complex discussion of democracy in Portuguese, and its various implementations. It helped that this group was from Maputo, where Portuguese is more native and people understand heavier accents more easily.
I'm currently reading "Watership Down". Dated, but still relevant.
Peace
John
Nimi's site is quite in the middle of nowhere, especially for being only an hour out of my city. It is an African village closer to what my original expectations were after training. Using a latrine, going to the market (just got a false alarm...) to find next to no produce, lighting lamps at night and seeing a very new, bright-faced school are all things I thought would be part of my new life, but whether good or bad I don't know.
And Nimi sees different things, different suffering than I do. He sees funerals 3 or 4 times a day because of AIDS. He hears of civil violence unheard of in the States. I'm really quite sheltered from most of that, and it almost feels like I'm not getting the full experience.
Nimi has organized a performance group from Maputo to come to his school, and we saw (I got picked up..where was I?) them perform - they're very good, clear and motivated. We went out for drinks afterwards and had a great time discussing world politics, African culture and stale crackers. Hopefully, I'll be able to get the same thing at my school, though I imagine the experience would be completely different.
I was able to hold my own in a quite complex discussion of democracy in Portuguese, and its various implementations. It helped that this group was from Maputo, where Portuguese is more native and people understand heavier accents more easily.
I'm currently reading "Watership Down". Dated, but still relevant.
Peace
John
05/23/2003
It's occurred to me that I write only a fraction of the thoughts and events that happen every day. Even when I write for 8 or 9 pages. I've only touched on what happens in a single day here. I could live a year in the States and not find one day that rivals "average" here.
For one of my lessons, I wanted to demonstrate a tree stump and the rings that form every year. Unfortunately, there were none around school, and walking with one of my students, he suggested I try cutting a branch off a tree. I didn't want to be too destructive, so I found a mostly dead branch on a tree just outside our house. I asked a couple neighbors if they had a saw, but unfortunately they didn't. Five minutes later, a kid I asked comes back and says he found a saw, so I walk with him to another house, where a woman is cooking. She hands me a saw, very sheepishly - which I've come to recognize as shyness and not reluctance - I thank her and ask the kid if he wants to help. He grins and agrees wholeheartedly. I jump into the tree, have him hand me the saw, and just as we're deciding what to do, he arrives.
The tree-trimmer guy!
I hadn't seen him for a couple weeks, which was the usual interval. But I didn't know where he lived, so though he was my first consideration, I had no idea how to contact him. I forgot his name, too. But here he was, undoubtedly hearing that I was fidgeting around with a saw in a tree.
Unfortunately, he speaks as much Portuguese as I speak Changana. Which is to say, our conversations are comical. He's a nice young guy and is always gracious, even when we don't have work for him. But the job was there for the taking this time.
I had the kid translate what I wanted and came away only 5 Met (20 cents) poorer for a nice specimen.
I realized it needed some sanding, but had forgotten to run to Home Depot. Hehe... The "Home Depot" here is called Kawena. They have huge warehouses, so the first time I approached one, I got very optimistic. Though I was told they only have a dozen items, I was sure that was an exaggeration.
Nope. I walked in and sure enough, there were 12 items in front of me, backed by tons and tons of the same thing, over and over again.
Since then, I've learned to go to the market. If it's not there, Mozambique doesn't have it. Sure enough, a friend helped me and guided me to some mid-coarse sandpaper. I arrived at home a few conversations later, with enough time to sand down the wood, eat lunch, and shower before class.
So now you have a brief overview of two hours of my day, from the "what I did" perspective. Wow. I'm really doing this, this big adventure.
Peace
John
For one of my lessons, I wanted to demonstrate a tree stump and the rings that form every year. Unfortunately, there were none around school, and walking with one of my students, he suggested I try cutting a branch off a tree. I didn't want to be too destructive, so I found a mostly dead branch on a tree just outside our house. I asked a couple neighbors if they had a saw, but unfortunately they didn't. Five minutes later, a kid I asked comes back and says he found a saw, so I walk with him to another house, where a woman is cooking. She hands me a saw, very sheepishly - which I've come to recognize as shyness and not reluctance - I thank her and ask the kid if he wants to help. He grins and agrees wholeheartedly. I jump into the tree, have him hand me the saw, and just as we're deciding what to do, he arrives.
The tree-trimmer guy!
I hadn't seen him for a couple weeks, which was the usual interval. But I didn't know where he lived, so though he was my first consideration, I had no idea how to contact him. I forgot his name, too. But here he was, undoubtedly hearing that I was fidgeting around with a saw in a tree.
Unfortunately, he speaks as much Portuguese as I speak Changana. Which is to say, our conversations are comical. He's a nice young guy and is always gracious, even when we don't have work for him. But the job was there for the taking this time.
I had the kid translate what I wanted and came away only 5 Met (20 cents) poorer for a nice specimen.
I realized it needed some sanding, but had forgotten to run to Home Depot. Hehe... The "Home Depot" here is called Kawena. They have huge warehouses, so the first time I approached one, I got very optimistic. Though I was told they only have a dozen items, I was sure that was an exaggeration.
Nope. I walked in and sure enough, there were 12 items in front of me, backed by tons and tons of the same thing, over and over again.
Since then, I've learned to go to the market. If it's not there, Mozambique doesn't have it. Sure enough, a friend helped me and guided me to some mid-coarse sandpaper. I arrived at home a few conversations later, with enough time to sand down the wood, eat lunch, and shower before class.
So now you have a brief overview of two hours of my day, from the "what I did" perspective. Wow. I'm really doing this, this big adventure.
Peace
John
05/22/2003
Pretty good school day. Tried a new HIV/AIDS idea - I allowed the students to write on the board all of their questions about HIV/AIDS. I got 10 good questions, just from one class. I think it worked because it wasn't a one-by-one sequence of questions where the students get bored.
My youngest class was a pain in the ass, though. They were extremely hyper, and though they're smart, they're also young...and incredibly immature (as you would expect). I kept them in silence for 5 minutes straight at the beginning of class, which helped a little.
I really can't get enough of teaching. The look on a kid's face when they get it is incredible.
Peace
John
My youngest class was a pain in the ass, though. They were extremely hyper, and though they're smart, they're also young...and incredibly immature (as you would expect). I kept them in silence for 5 minutes straight at the beginning of class, which helped a little.
I really can't get enough of teaching. The look on a kid's face when they get it is incredible.
Peace
John
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