School

Sitting at the teacher's work station out on the porch of the P6&7 building having lunch. Mr. Kaligo is the P7 teacher.
Grade 1 classroom
I started volunteering at the Masooli school. It’s right beside the church. A small school of about 350 kids. Yesterday very few children came to school because it was raining hard. It’s a government funded school which means that children of poorer families go there. School fees are less than in the private schools. They wear pink dress uniforms, and the boys in pink shirts. Their classrooms are bare. Nothing on the walls, a blackboard up front, desks and benches for students to sit on. There are no books. The teacher teaches everything by rote and using the blackboard. Students copy the exercises into their notebooks and do their work. Students stand up when they give an answer. Similarly to our schools though, students write on the desks and leave paper littered on the floor. Some things don’t change. I spent a long time talking to the headmaster (principal). He was very hospitable and happy that I would like to volunteer. He provided me with their curriculum and has me teaching music all next week. Plus English and maybe science too. He asked about what the challenges in our schools are. I told him about the lack of respect for teachers, the discipline issues, the few consequences we have, the difficult parents, the difficult students. It was hard to carry on the conversation because the rain pounding on the amabati roof (corrugated tin) was quite loud. I must have become quite loud and animated myself in my storytelling. The headmaster commented that I would make a good lecturer. I sat in on an English class and walked around looking at student’s work and giving them a couple of tips. Some kids were a little stunned by the muzungu helping them and didn’t quite know how to react. The classes are generally much larger than we are used to. Fiona’s class at her school in Senior 2 has 64 students. I’ve heard of some with 80-100 even. And we complain when we hit 30. But I’m convinced that discipline issues and respect make a difference. There is a great deal of respect for one’s elders here. The student bringing the math teacher the chalk brush knelt down in front of her. Mind you the math teacher did look a little bit scary. I was intimidated by her even. Women and children kneel, in general, in front of men and elders as a form of respect. I find that particularly difficult if they’re kneeling in front of me. I can’t help feeling an idea of servitude.