One of the first things that my friend told me before coming was I better learn to be flexible if I wasn't already. I think that I am pretty flexible, and today was a good test for that.
I went with another girl from the house to a school where she teaches English. It is a private school for children in kindergarten through 8th grade. The school is in two campuses, one across the street from the other. We rode a few minibuses to the younger student's campus and walked into the main courtyard. Off the courtyard are restrooms, the main office and all of the classrooms. Here, students stay in one classroom all day with a teacher's assistant to help out if a kid needs something and all of the subject teachers travel around to the classes. Today was a half-day because of exams next week so I was supposed to be there till around lunch time. I really didn't know what I was supposed to do, but assumed I would be sitting in on a class to listen to the children and teacher speak Amharic and learn science or math or something. Really, I was expecting to be in the back seat of a class for the day.
Well, I walked into the office and the main lady who runs the school said, in pretty good English: "Welcome! I am glad you are here. We only have a few minutes until school starts and I wanted to show you around first. Well, there isn't time for that. Instead of observing today, you are actually going to be our substitute English teacher. Here is your curriculum for the classes you'll teach." She then handed me two exercise books (which aren't really curriculum--they are just the students' homework books). I asked her what page they are on and she showed me in each book. Then, I asked her what she wanted me to do. Pretty much, her response was: teach them nouns and prepositions. Lastly, I asked her if the kids spoke English at all yet, concerned because I was supposed to be TEACHING them that... making me think they don’t know it yet. (And, I don’t speak Amharic, remember?) She told me that they spoke a little.
The bell rang a couple minutes later (after she wrote out my schedule) and it was game on. I walked into my first class of 30 1st graders. They all stood up from their tiny tables and benches and said, "Good morning, Miss." Talk about making your heart melt. I said, "Good morning! How are you doing today?" They smiled and said, in unison once again: "We are doing fine, thank you. And you?" I told them I was fine and that they could sit down. They didn't take their eyes off of me. Most everyone here stares at me since I am white. (I have caught myself staring at other white people here, too. We are that rare. I have seen about eight of them out and about other than the ones I have connections with here. I have been here five days. Eight white people in five days isn't very many when you feel like you are seeing thousands of people a day.) Well, I asked them to take their books out and then, I went around and checked their work. Tebl and cheir are incorrect spellings of common nouns, so we had a lot of work to do. (And, side note: the teacher’s assistants were also spelling things this way. Most people here read and write, but some don’t read or write very well in English. They may be because they come from oral backgrounds.) The classroom had nothing in it but a board and a half of a piece of chalk that I found on the floor. So, I drew animals and pictures and had kids come and write what each picture was on the board. We did several other activities and I assigned the next page in their books for homework. A bell rang and I switched classes. I next taught a 2nd grade class in a room twice as small with 24 students. This room had three pieces of chalk, though :). And really, I didn't need anything. We got through the work and took care of learning prepositions in the 2nd grade room. I put the chalk everywhere: "Now, class, where is the chalk? Yes, IN my pocket, ON the floor, IN your desk, BETWEEN your hands, UNDER my foot." After 2nd period, I went to break with my friend from the other campus. We walked to a small cafe and got macchiatos before I went back to see the kids still out playing in the courtyard. They told me I could take pictures, so I gladly accepted the opportunity. When people have said that kids attack you when you have a camera, that is an understatement. They LOVED it. Next, I went to teach my next two classes, another 2nd grade class, then another 1st. A funny story: in 4th period, the teacher's assistant saw me write the date at the top of the blackboard and told me I was writing the date wrong all day. What was I thinking? I thought it was November 6, 2009. And to think that I was just glad I had written 6/11/09 since they write the month and date opposite. Nope... I was nowhere close. Remember the calendar difference? Today, it was 27/2/2009. Boy was I off! Well, it was an incredible 27/2/2009 this time around, to say the least.
After school, we were walking out and the lady running the school came to find me and... no lie... she asked me to come back on Monday. :) She said to my friend: "Can you check on her schedule? She really is a good teacher and we need her back!" We'll see :).
We went to lunch with one of my friend's other friends who works at the school at a local restaurant. We had tibs today... chopped meat. Good stuff, followed by macchiatos, of course. They love those here. :)
Taking minibuses, we rode to a hotel here with FREE INTERNET in their lobby. And, it is pretty fast. This was during our break before an evening house group. Afterwards, we headed back to the house by taxi. Here, you can barter for taxi prices. And, it is not uncommon for people to sit in the front. (These are just a couple of differences I have noted and thought remarkable, once again.) We came back to the compound, picked up cornbread for dinner and our taxi driver waited for us so he could take us to house group.
It was about 4 o'clock so we had a couple free hours still and had to run an errand for my friend. We stopped by a neighborhood that houses some of her American friends because she had left her cell phone there. And this was the fun story about our trip to the house: We got dropped off by the taxi a few blocks from the neighborhood. After walking the neighborhood a few times with no success in finding the compound with their house, we decided to get help. So, we asked a few local boys playing soccer in the street (with a homemade soccer ball, mind you) if they knew where the white people lived. The boys shouted and pointed saying, "Come, come, follow us!" They spoke a little English... enough to convince us they knew what we were talking about... so we followed them. Then, we realized they were talking about playing ball and we said, "No, no... not to find white soccer players. We are looking for people whose house says the initials CH on the front of the gate." Sure enough, the boys said: "Come, come, follow us!" again. So, we did... running after them and laughing about it. They ran us about a block in another direction and pointed to a gate. It had no letters on it. Then, the boys did an awesome charades act showing how recently someone had painted over it, but before lately, it said CH. Ha! It was pretty great help they gave us! We knocked on the gate and the boys were right! My friend placed a few coins in their hands and they waved us on saying, "Thank you!" (Something I have noticed is that I love it when local people just have a few English words to say so they say them whether that be telling me I am pretty or telling me to look at something. We had that encounter on our walk as well.) After we got the cell phone, we came back out, found the boys and, of course, played a little street soccer.
Next, we walked to the compound of someone else in the house group (the soccer project's family) and caught a ride with them to house group. On the way, we stopped to get gas, an adventure of itself. Here, people pump your gas for you. I was told that they think that we don't know how... and it is customary anyways. (Side note: pollution = terrible here... more to come about that later.) Gas for cars here is 90% diesel and the other 10% unleaded. The gas is about 3 dollars USD a gallon and a little more for unleaded. Though diesel is more expensive in the States, this diesel is poor quality. But, it works for these cars... it's just that something is a polluting the air, whether that be the gas or the cars! So, when we were getting gas, we watched a very interesting scene: two local people were pumping gas into a city minibus and it was amazing. They kept pushing on the minibus and SHAKING it. And then, we figured it out. They were trying to get as much gas in as possible, as if gas (a liquid!!!) settled or something. (Then, they wouldn't have to refill as often.) Lots of gas ended up getting on the ground. The local people and the people in my car talked back and forth about it, laughing. We pretty much just ended up telling them that one birr's worth of gas was on the ground. It was a pretty good cultural experience... one of many I've had since I arrived.
At house group, I had a great time with lots of foreigners here working overseas. I know the night was a good experience for me because I got an inside look into their small group. It was a great family atmosphere with dinner, singing and a lesson. One of the best parts of the night (at least it would be for my Starbucks partners back home) is that I met the man who lived in the house and he mentioned he was from the States. And guess what? He used to work at a Starbucks in Arkansas! He and I discussed our job experiences there and he told me he had been growing coffee outside. Well, much to my delight, he took me out in his courtyard so I could see his great big coffee trees with the green coffee beans all over them. He told me how he was planning to take them through the entire process from tree to cup. Then, he showed me where he was drying them out and how they were beginning to look like coffee beans, the way most of us would expect them to look before roasting. And guess what? The coffee he was growing was Ethiopian Sidamo! Talk about getting a FRESH cup of coffee from Starbucks... as local as it can be!
To finish the day, I rode home with my friends and the family hosting us. We enjoyed listening to their 4-year-old daughter singing English and Amharic songs... both with an INCREDIBLE local accent (since she goes to school here). When I got back, I talked to Dad and Lee. Good day all around.
Love you all,
Laura
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment