This is a walk from my house towards the trading center.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
"So I heard that..." Stories from my Ugandan sex-ed class
Term II is quickly coming to a close, and I had saved the best topic for last--reproductive health! However, I took all of the reproduction out of the topic, and rather talked about reproduction avoidance. :D I'm almost certain that my students know more about fertilization, pregnancy and birth than I do, especially with the birth rate in Uganda ((48.15 births/1,000 population (2008 estimate) as compared to that of America (13.5 births/1,000 population (2010 est.)) (Wikipedia). Additionally, I wanted to focus more on pregnancy avoidance in response to a recent article I read in the New Vision during World Population Day. (Being that it was New Vision, I'm not sure if any of it is true, but...) This article, entitled "Over half of Uganda's births are not planned," states, "The proportion of Ugandan births that were unplanned rose from 29% in 1995 to 38% in 2000/2001." Again, not sure how they got their numbers. Did they do a survey of women who had just given birth, "say, did you plan this one?" The article mentions that the average children to women is seven, which is the highest fertility rate in Africa and the third highest in the world. One point that the article made is definitely true, which is, "...many Ugandan women are hesitant to use contraceptive due to lack of accurate information about the safety of the available methods. A third of all Ugandan women of reproductive age want to stop or delay further childbearing but are not using modern contraceptive methods."
A few questions/concerns raised during class...
"I heard family planning pills make you barren."
"My aunt used family planning pills and now she only has disabled children."
"I heard that you bleed a lot when you use the pill."
"Family planning pills lead to genetic alterations."
We discussed how the pills actually work in the body, and the true risks involved with each form of birth control. However, even after explicitly explaining facts and myths, women still left thinking that the pills make you barren. (sigh)
My lecture started with diagrams, looking at each part of the reproductive system, then it was supposed to go into STDs and finally contraceptives. It didn't go exactly in that order, and we didn't go deeply into STDs... but no worries! Important things were learned! Did you know that semen travels, on average, at a speed of 28 mph? When asked the question, "I heard that if you play sex standing up, you don't get pregnant. Is it true?" I referred to the that statistic to back up my point, as in, it's going to get where it's going...
Other things students asked/commented-
"I heard that the more you have sex, the bigger your penis grows."
"If you have sex with a woman menstruating, you get gonorrhea."
"What causes masturbation?"
"Women masturbate? How?"
"Why don't penises burn?"
(A note on that last bit-- students were convinced that penises do not burn. As in, if you were to burn a human male, his penis would remain, uncharred. I can't figure out the root of this myth, but students were saying "We burnt two thieves in the village, and their penises remained!" If you can help me find the root of this myth, I would greatly appreciate it.)
Now, I don't want to paint Ugandans as completely ignorant when it comes to sexual-related topics. There were several questions and comments that were truthful and relevant. One girl asked about the relation between birth control pills and cancer, a correlation which is currently being studied. Additionally, the students could tell me each part of the reproductive system, and I'm certain that they all knew what the act involves. It just seems that misconceptions spread like wildfire, especially in relation to western medicines.
I ended the two-hour lecture with a hands-on activity--practicing the proper way using a condom. Because the students immediately tried to stash condoms for later use, I had to patrol each participant, watching them check the wrapper properly and then open it in front of me. I had to say more than once, "No, I do not have enough materials for independent study..."
A few questions/concerns raised during class...
"I heard family planning pills make you barren."
"My aunt used family planning pills and now she only has disabled children."
"I heard that you bleed a lot when you use the pill."
"Family planning pills lead to genetic alterations."
We discussed how the pills actually work in the body, and the true risks involved with each form of birth control. However, even after explicitly explaining facts and myths, women still left thinking that the pills make you barren. (sigh)
My lecture started with diagrams, looking at each part of the reproductive system, then it was supposed to go into STDs and finally contraceptives. It didn't go exactly in that order, and we didn't go deeply into STDs... but no worries! Important things were learned! Did you know that semen travels, on average, at a speed of 28 mph? When asked the question, "I heard that if you play sex standing up, you don't get pregnant. Is it true?" I referred to the that statistic to back up my point, as in, it's going to get where it's going...
Other things students asked/commented-
"I heard that the more you have sex, the bigger your penis grows."
"If you have sex with a woman menstruating, you get gonorrhea."
"What causes masturbation?"
"Women masturbate? How?"
"Why don't penises burn?"
(A note on that last bit-- students were convinced that penises do not burn. As in, if you were to burn a human male, his penis would remain, uncharred. I can't figure out the root of this myth, but students were saying "We burnt two thieves in the village, and their penises remained!" If you can help me find the root of this myth, I would greatly appreciate it.)
Now, I don't want to paint Ugandans as completely ignorant when it comes to sexual-related topics. There were several questions and comments that were truthful and relevant. One girl asked about the relation between birth control pills and cancer, a correlation which is currently being studied. Additionally, the students could tell me each part of the reproductive system, and I'm certain that they all knew what the act involves. It just seems that misconceptions spread like wildfire, especially in relation to western medicines.
I ended the two-hour lecture with a hands-on activity--practicing the proper way using a condom. Because the students immediately tried to stash condoms for later use, I had to patrol each participant, watching them check the wrapper properly and then open it in front of me. I had to say more than once, "No, I do not have enough materials for independent study..."
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| Me, waving around an eggplant with a condom on it. (I realized in my last post that I mentioned eggplants for condom demonstrations without explaining that the eggplants here are much smaller. I can only imagine what you all must have thought...) |
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| Teamwork! |
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| Sometimes you just need a little help from a friend... |
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| Notice my face. The student, front right, just offered to give his own demonstration...jokester... |
Sunday, July 24, 2011
State Fair? No, but pretty darn close!
Yesterday was the second to last day of the week-long Jinja Agricultural Fair/show. The plan was to go the day with my counterpart, and tour around during the day. After meeting up in town, we joined one of the many long lines to get in. This was serious--metal detectors, bag checkers, full-uniformed soldiers...did the show always have this high of security, I wonder? After moving through the single-file line (which was almost orderly, I was quite impressed) and getting the too-personal pat-down, the woman checking my bag pulled out my contraband.
"Ah, you can't have a camera. We do not allow them today." WHAT?! Why, was all I was thinking, and where was the sign for that? The guard directed us towards a man in a short-sleeved, checkered, blue button up. That's odd, I thought, he doesn't look like he has any authority.
"You need to take your camera out," he explained.
"Now, where are we going to take this? We don't live around here?" My counterpart argued.
"Sorry, I can't do anything for you, if I had held onto all of the cameras that have come through here today, I'd have," and he made a gesture showing that he'd be holding a lot. "You can store it at the police station in town. No cameras today, the president is coming."
Oooooooooooohhhhhh. When I heard that, my first thought was, yeah right. Little did I know, the undercover man I was speaking with one of the President's security officers.
We felt defeated. We weren't about to walk back to town, so we did the next best thing and persuaded a traffic officer to hold onto my camera. "Ok, I'll see you in two hours," he said at 11:00 AM.
We thanked him profusely, and then cut the line to get back in. Multi-colored tents, flags, stands, stages and banners were everywhere, advertising things like "Movit" "Herbal Medicine" "Airtel" "Orange," and then some actual agriculture related things. School groups were moving together in clusters, recognizable by their uniforms. Even in the 80 degree weather, guys and gals alike were wearing sweater vests, long-sleeved button-ups, trousers for the gents and knee-lengthed skirts for the ladies, tube socks and dress shoes. I was sweating just looking at them. I suspect that several young gentlemen were changing out of their uniform mid-day, because about 100 Kid Cudi look-alikes were walking around. Music was coming from all directions, booming at maximum volume out of oversize stage speakers. We ate our first chicken meal of the day (we ate chicken all day, about five times total). Over brunch, we discussed my upcoming lesson next week. Reproductive health, family planning and STD prevention. My CP had been helping me think of ways to get free condoms for teaching purposes. My aim is to present a condom demonstration, and the students will be able to try it themselves (using a toilet paper tube). For this reason, I needed like, a LOT of condoms. So far, we hadn't had any luck, and we missed our chance to check out the Family Planning Resource Center in Jinja. Luckily, we came upon the TASO tent.
The AIDS Support Organization (TASO) works in several areas in Uganda, delivering treatment services (home based, outreach clinics, day care), sensitizing families of HIV+ patients and the community, offering free testing, educating school groups, carrying out research and so much more! It's a really fantastic group working to battle the HIV/AIDs rate in Uganda. Read more about them here. The people working at the tent were happy to see and talk to us. For some reason, I didn't know where to begin asking the nice people for as many free condoms as they could give me. Luckily, my CP was there, and in the very non-direct, roundabout Ugandan way of getting to the point, she smoothly transitioned to asking for as many free teaching materials they could afford to part with.
"Oh, yeah we can give you a whole box!" A man reached behind the table clothed display table and handed me an inconspicuous box of 100, which fit perfectly in my purse. Mission accomplished! At that point, it was the highlight of my day.
We moved around, looking at different types of corn (one type engineered to be drought-resistant), tomatoes, onions, rice, fish, nuts, and greens that are being grown in Uganda. At an impressive display of eggplants, my CP suggested that perhaps that would be better to use than toilet paper tubes, as it's more life-like. Ah, perhaps, but do I really want to buy 50 eggplants?! We then moved through the prison exhibit to see the projects that prisoners work on during their time. They do poultry farming, vegetable farming, or carpentry (depending on their interest). The furniture on display was beautiful, and magnificently crafted! However, the price was reflective of the quality, and so my CP and I just tried out a few comfortable chairs, and moved on. My CP pointed out that the booming music had ceased. I didn't even notice.
"His excellency must be here," she concluded.
Two popsicles and bottles of water later, we met up with another tutor from school who was the chaperone (ish) for our students. They're adult students, so the tutor let them loose. We joined him at the table where he was eating matooke, rice and envuluga under a tent, watching the people ride the spinning swings. We three tutors had a lot to talk about--Mbarara, end of term exams, the students today, and an unfortunate incident with counterfeit money.
Just behind us, about 100 feet from where we were sitting, in a brick gazebo-type building, a crowd was collecting....and then we saw the hat. WHOA. First thought? Too bad I don't have my camera! Second thought? That guy looks familiar....same blue-checkered shirt guy from the front gate was watching the perimeter. It was bizarre, sitting there staring at the president so closely. I believe for the 5 minute photo shoot, no one in that food tent moved or said much of anything. We just kind of stared. New highlight of the day.
From there, we saw the animal exhibit. I saw my first Crested Crane! (Still didn't have my camera with me). The exhibit exited to a bluff overlooking the source of the Nile. Clusters of uniform-clad students relaxed in the shade, watching the water that powers the Owen Falls Dam.
More tutors from college found us, and from afternoon to late late evening, it was a blur of chicken, music, dancing and all together a great time. I'm gaining strength, as I write this, to start my laundry....mpola mpola.
I did get my camera back. At about 4:04 PM, I found the traffic officer in the same spot.
"You said two hours," was the first thing he said to me. I have yet to find a Ugandan in Jinja who operates on 'Ugandan time.' It was all kale, though, no worries!
Tune in next week for updates on my sex-ed class.
"Ah, you can't have a camera. We do not allow them today." WHAT?! Why, was all I was thinking, and where was the sign for that? The guard directed us towards a man in a short-sleeved, checkered, blue button up. That's odd, I thought, he doesn't look like he has any authority.
"You need to take your camera out," he explained.
"Now, where are we going to take this? We don't live around here?" My counterpart argued.
"Sorry, I can't do anything for you, if I had held onto all of the cameras that have come through here today, I'd have," and he made a gesture showing that he'd be holding a lot. "You can store it at the police station in town. No cameras today, the president is coming."
Oooooooooooohhhhhh. When I heard that, my first thought was, yeah right. Little did I know, the undercover man I was speaking with one of the President's security officers.
We felt defeated. We weren't about to walk back to town, so we did the next best thing and persuaded a traffic officer to hold onto my camera. "Ok, I'll see you in two hours," he said at 11:00 AM.
We thanked him profusely, and then cut the line to get back in. Multi-colored tents, flags, stands, stages and banners were everywhere, advertising things like "Movit" "Herbal Medicine" "Airtel" "Orange," and then some actual agriculture related things. School groups were moving together in clusters, recognizable by their uniforms. Even in the 80 degree weather, guys and gals alike were wearing sweater vests, long-sleeved button-ups, trousers for the gents and knee-lengthed skirts for the ladies, tube socks and dress shoes. I was sweating just looking at them. I suspect that several young gentlemen were changing out of their uniform mid-day, because about 100 Kid Cudi look-alikes were walking around. Music was coming from all directions, booming at maximum volume out of oversize stage speakers. We ate our first chicken meal of the day (we ate chicken all day, about five times total). Over brunch, we discussed my upcoming lesson next week. Reproductive health, family planning and STD prevention. My CP had been helping me think of ways to get free condoms for teaching purposes. My aim is to present a condom demonstration, and the students will be able to try it themselves (using a toilet paper tube). For this reason, I needed like, a LOT of condoms. So far, we hadn't had any luck, and we missed our chance to check out the Family Planning Resource Center in Jinja. Luckily, we came upon the TASO tent.
The AIDS Support Organization (TASO) works in several areas in Uganda, delivering treatment services (home based, outreach clinics, day care), sensitizing families of HIV+ patients and the community, offering free testing, educating school groups, carrying out research and so much more! It's a really fantastic group working to battle the HIV/AIDs rate in Uganda. Read more about them here. The people working at the tent were happy to see and talk to us. For some reason, I didn't know where to begin asking the nice people for as many free condoms as they could give me. Luckily, my CP was there, and in the very non-direct, roundabout Ugandan way of getting to the point, she smoothly transitioned to asking for as many free teaching materials they could afford to part with.
"Oh, yeah we can give you a whole box!" A man reached behind the table clothed display table and handed me an inconspicuous box of 100, which fit perfectly in my purse. Mission accomplished! At that point, it was the highlight of my day.
We moved around, looking at different types of corn (one type engineered to be drought-resistant), tomatoes, onions, rice, fish, nuts, and greens that are being grown in Uganda. At an impressive display of eggplants, my CP suggested that perhaps that would be better to use than toilet paper tubes, as it's more life-like. Ah, perhaps, but do I really want to buy 50 eggplants?! We then moved through the prison exhibit to see the projects that prisoners work on during their time. They do poultry farming, vegetable farming, or carpentry (depending on their interest). The furniture on display was beautiful, and magnificently crafted! However, the price was reflective of the quality, and so my CP and I just tried out a few comfortable chairs, and moved on. My CP pointed out that the booming music had ceased. I didn't even notice.
"His excellency must be here," she concluded.
Two popsicles and bottles of water later, we met up with another tutor from school who was the chaperone (ish) for our students. They're adult students, so the tutor let them loose. We joined him at the table where he was eating matooke, rice and envuluga under a tent, watching the people ride the spinning swings. We three tutors had a lot to talk about--Mbarara, end of term exams, the students today, and an unfortunate incident with counterfeit money.
Just behind us, about 100 feet from where we were sitting, in a brick gazebo-type building, a crowd was collecting....and then we saw the hat. WHOA. First thought? Too bad I don't have my camera! Second thought? That guy looks familiar....same blue-checkered shirt guy from the front gate was watching the perimeter. It was bizarre, sitting there staring at the president so closely. I believe for the 5 minute photo shoot, no one in that food tent moved or said much of anything. We just kind of stared. New highlight of the day.
From there, we saw the animal exhibit. I saw my first Crested Crane! (Still didn't have my camera with me). The exhibit exited to a bluff overlooking the source of the Nile. Clusters of uniform-clad students relaxed in the shade, watching the water that powers the Owen Falls Dam.
More tutors from college found us, and from afternoon to late late evening, it was a blur of chicken, music, dancing and all together a great time. I'm gaining strength, as I write this, to start my laundry....mpola mpola.
I did get my camera back. At about 4:04 PM, I found the traffic officer in the same spot.
"You said two hours," was the first thing he said to me. I have yet to find a Ugandan in Jinja who operates on 'Ugandan time.' It was all kale, though, no worries!
Tune in next week for updates on my sex-ed class.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
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| Immaculate! |
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| Me and Immacualte (Ugandans generally don't smile in pictures) |
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| Some of the students and I after the debate club (this was the first day I wore pants to school) |
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| Assembly |
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| Typical day for the neighboring primary school at recess. Note the cow. Jus' chillin. |
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| GROUP WORK! |
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| Practicing for the upcoming athletics event. Most were running barefoot. |
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Today is a good day
I've had a kind of fantastic day. There was nothing out of the ordinary, I didn't find a lost shilling note on the side of the road or come across a hoard of chocolates I had forgotten about, but everything that did today went just swimmingly. I managed to find the Year Twos free so I could teach each of the two streams. Not only was it an informative lesson (on emphysema and tuberculosis), but it was entertaining. I tend to get kind of note-heavy, so to break it up, I like to have the class do energizers. In one stream we spelled the word "EMPHYSEMA" with our whole body, while in the other stream we spelled "TUBERCULOSIS." It was quite funny. These diseases are part of their study of the respiratory system. I'm feeling, finally, like I'm teaching something new, exciting and beneficial to these students. Since they read so much on their own, and they've studied about the different body systems in O level, learning about the different diseases and how they affect their bodies is a great way to use their knowledge in context. I also find that when I include rough statistics about how prevalent these diseases are in Uganda, how many people contract the disease or die from it each day/month/year, or how they rank in infection in comparison to the world, it is most interesting, and keeps students engaged. Although Tuberculosis is not caused by smoking, (as many of the students had previously thought), smoking can exacerbate a TB infection (http://www.ctsu.ox.ac.uk/projects/indiatb) and (http://www.searo.who.int/en/Section10/Section2097/Section2106_10682.htm). Emphysema is, primarily, caused by smoking. For this reason, we ended the class with doing a skit on how to say 'no' to peer pressure (saying no to cigarettes while keeping your cool). This was also hilarious, and I felt like the lesson overall was effective, even though I didn't do my daily 1/2 sheet exit slip assessment.
After those two lessons, I hadn't had anything else planned for the day, but Mr. Oketch, an SST tutor, and I met our personal tutor students (the ones we are in charge of guiding and counseling). That was somewhat entertaining, "Ladies, if you have a problem, go see Madam Mary." I guess my duties in guidance and counseling these students also include doing a personal report on each one (or, at least, the ladies).
Following that brief meeting, I headed down to the library to lesson plan a bit. Perhaps an hour passed before a Year One student requested to come in and check out some books. I inquired if there was a tutor in class, which indeed there wasn't. Huzzah! I explained that the library would be open in the evening, but at that moment, I would take Stream J into the reading room so they could finish their projects. The students are working in cooperative learning groups, researching specific subjects (as delegated by me) with the goals of 1) presenting the necessary material to the rest of the class and 2) Being as creative as possible to involve their colleagues in the presentation. This was fantastic, because Stream P had finished preparing the day before, I and I was unsure when I'd find another open slot for J to complete before presentation day, this Friday. Additionally, being at the end of the day, I didn't have to interrupt them and kick them out after an hour. I'm on a high of how productive and fulfilling my day was. The only road bump arrived just recently; the power in Wanyange is out (I'm typing this by gaslight...and the light from the screen....) meaning that the college as well doesn't have power, and the students don't have enough flashlights to make opening the library now worthwhile.
And now I'll use the last bit of my laptop battery to do some idle surfing before I read by candlelight and call it a night. This is my life in Uganda.
After those two lessons, I hadn't had anything else planned for the day, but Mr. Oketch, an SST tutor, and I met our personal tutor students (the ones we are in charge of guiding and counseling). That was somewhat entertaining, "Ladies, if you have a problem, go see Madam Mary." I guess my duties in guidance and counseling these students also include doing a personal report on each one (or, at least, the ladies).
Following that brief meeting, I headed down to the library to lesson plan a bit. Perhaps an hour passed before a Year One student requested to come in and check out some books. I inquired if there was a tutor in class, which indeed there wasn't. Huzzah! I explained that the library would be open in the evening, but at that moment, I would take Stream J into the reading room so they could finish their projects. The students are working in cooperative learning groups, researching specific subjects (as delegated by me) with the goals of 1) presenting the necessary material to the rest of the class and 2) Being as creative as possible to involve their colleagues in the presentation. This was fantastic, because Stream P had finished preparing the day before, I and I was unsure when I'd find another open slot for J to complete before presentation day, this Friday. Additionally, being at the end of the day, I didn't have to interrupt them and kick them out after an hour. I'm on a high of how productive and fulfilling my day was. The only road bump arrived just recently; the power in Wanyange is out (I'm typing this by gaslight...and the light from the screen....) meaning that the college as well doesn't have power, and the students don't have enough flashlights to make opening the library now worthwhile.
And now I'll use the last bit of my laptop battery to do some idle surfing before I read by candlelight and call it a night. This is my life in Uganda.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
I've taken long without posting...
I guess I want to say that there's no news, but I'm in Uganda, so everything is newsworthy somehow, right? I had been frustrated lately, teaching, because everything that I had planned in Health Science (following the curriculum guide given to me by the head of department) was apparently old news to the students. In fact, the book that I was following to guide my lesson planning is available in the library for the students to read. And so, everything that I've been given to teach (by the head of department who reassured me over and over again that the students do not know the information) the students already know. Old news. My previous plan was to discover the parts of each body system in depth and discuss how it works within itself and in conjunction with other body systems. However, each lesson was putting the students to sleep, and when I had some students come up and re-iterate what they learned, they would add in even more knowledge that I didn't even know about. At the end of that week, during my jarring realization, I was defeated, and I whined to anyone at the college who would bother to listen to me.
Some advice was,
"Don't let them ask questions that are off topic. Come and teach what was planned." But the questions are good?
"It's okay if they've already read the module, then they know what you're talking about." But then what am I teaching?
"It may seem like they know the material already, but they don't." Really? My pre-tests indicate that yes, they already do know the parts and functions of the circulatory system.
Still feeling defeated, I talked the ear off of another science/math tutor whom the students really look up to and respect. He pointed out that the students should also know major diseases and disorders that afflict each system. This was great, because it was also apparent that the students had the most interest in that as well. With that, I re-vamped my scheme and successfully taught not only about the circulatory system this week, but also discussed high blood pressure, heart attacks, stroke, coronary heart disease and diabetes. This was great, because in the process I knew I was eliminating some misconceptions. Additionally, I'm learning so darn much about the body, I feel like I could perhaps pursue a career in nursing.
In other news, everyone wants to be my friend. I can't put my finger on why, perhaps because of my bubbly personality? Maybe because I cook some really great food? Could it be because I dress so smartly? Oh, and there's that whole mzungu part of me....
Two days ago, a letter had been stealthily slipped under my door. "Madam Mary," was printed in the deliberate and ever-so-careful handwriting of some pupil somewhere. "I see you everyday but you don't see me." "I really hope we can be pen friends." Cute, right? I set it aside with every intention of responding, and sticking a letter outside my door for the yet unknown kid.
Yesterday, exhausted, dirty, and starving (I skipped lunch), I had finally arrived home and was making popcorn and tea. There was a knock at my door. "Good evening," I say to the random boy at my door, through the curtain, as I continue to tend to the popcorn.
"Good eveningowareyou?" He said, all in one breath, as many Ugandan children say.
"Oh I'm fine," I said. In my peripheral vision, I could see him slip off his sandals. I had assumed that he, like any other Ugandan child, would respect my space and not come in unless invited. He was not like other Ugandan children. In he walked, still talking to me. He picked up my iron off of the blue Mukwano plastic garden chair, set it aside, and took a seat. I was blown away. I don't like to be blunt or demanding, especially of people I don't know, so I said nothing, but rather offered him some popcorn while I sat, as well. To be clear, I only offered him some so as to not be rude and eat in front of him, but I remind the reader, I was starving. And if you know me when I'm starving, especially with popcorn, I'm greedy. So I only offered once.
"You got my letter," he said.
"Oh yes, and I was going to write back, today even..." I bluffed. There wasn't much in the letter to respond to, so it was going to be hard to write back.
"I see you everyday. I really want to be friends with people like you."
People like me? What, old, white people? YOU'RE 13.
"I'm finding it kind of odd that you want to be my friend. You don't even know me. Usually, when someone here wants to be my friend, they're looking for money or a ticket to the US."
"No, I'm not like that. I just want to be your friend." Nothing seemed to bother this kid. I must say though, his English was pretty good.
"Ok. So..."
"So what do you do on Sundays?" he asked, interrupting me.
"Um, I wash clothes."
"OK, I take you for prayers," he said, confidently, like it was a done deal.
"I don't pray."
"Oh, that's OK too," again, still blown away by his arrogance and command of English, "are you going to town tomorrow?"
"Yes, early in the morning."
"Ok, I'll escort you," he said.
There was no question, but rather just matter-of-factness in his propositions. "Um, no, I can go by myself." What the hell am I supposed to talk about with this kid? "So, you have brothers and sisters?"
"Yes, one younger brother and a sister."
"Ah, that's nice."
"Actually, my younger brother is there, in America."
ORLY?!
"Which state is he in?" I innocently asked. Kid reaches over and grabs a handful of popcorn. Reminder--I only offered popcorn once.
"I don't know. He didn't tell me."
"How old is he?"
"Seven."
"You talk to him on the phone?" Grabs another handful of popcorn.
"Yeah, I talked to him last Wednesday."
"Ah, how does he like school?"
"It's good. He's in P4."
He's in P4 (not fourth grade?), at the age of seven, in America? This kid's story, and body language, were slowly indicating that he's a fantastic liar.
"He even told me," he began, "that they bought him a house."
"A house?" I probed. "Some American bought a seven year old a house?"
"That's what he said!"
It was more than evident that this kid is lying a blue streak. At this point he had taken my whole bowl of popcorn. "And your family? Who else is in your family?"
"Well, I have my mom, but she has the Virus," he said. And now he's trying to lay a guilt trip on me, somehow. He began to tell a sad tale about his family. Credible? Not sure. Hmmm....
"Ok, well I have to run to the trading center here quickly to get some things," I say, setting up my escape.
"First take tea," he said, motioning to my cup. What a demanding little...
"No, I'm going to go now."
"Can I escort you?"
"No."
"Can I stay here?"
"No."
"Why not? I am now your guest."
ORLY?! I couldn't take it anymore.
"I'm trying to be as polite as possible here. I don't know you, you walked into my house uninvited, you ate my food and I'm trying to--as politely as possible--ask you to leave. It's odd that a thirteen year old wants to be a friend of a random woman in the village, and other than my being a mzungu, I can't imagine a reason why you'd want to do that. So, you're welcome to stop by and greet me, but other than that..." I kind of left it there. He got the message, but first cleaned the popcorn bowl before he slipped his sandals back on to leave.
Completely disorganized, as they say here (flustered really) I huffily went over to my neighbor Behna. What I like about Behna is that she can bargain to obscenely low prices and she can be kind of a hard ass. When I found her, she was carrying a newborn baby. Funny how babies can make you soften up and forget your troubles for a bit. She was just holding on to her while the mother was at the market. After a while of loitering and just discussing about other things, I finally got around to my situation that had just happened. She was just as appalled as I had been.
"Don't entertain children in the house. He could be a thief."
Ah! Ba-na, I didn't even think of that! And so, now I'm paranoid.
I see you everyday, but you don't see me.... It doesn't sound so cute anymore....
Some advice was,
"Don't let them ask questions that are off topic. Come and teach what was planned." But the questions are good?
"It's okay if they've already read the module, then they know what you're talking about." But then what am I teaching?
"It may seem like they know the material already, but they don't." Really? My pre-tests indicate that yes, they already do know the parts and functions of the circulatory system.
Still feeling defeated, I talked the ear off of another science/math tutor whom the students really look up to and respect. He pointed out that the students should also know major diseases and disorders that afflict each system. This was great, because it was also apparent that the students had the most interest in that as well. With that, I re-vamped my scheme and successfully taught not only about the circulatory system this week, but also discussed high blood pressure, heart attacks, stroke, coronary heart disease and diabetes. This was great, because in the process I knew I was eliminating some misconceptions. Additionally, I'm learning so darn much about the body, I feel like I could perhaps pursue a career in nursing.
In other news, everyone wants to be my friend. I can't put my finger on why, perhaps because of my bubbly personality? Maybe because I cook some really great food? Could it be because I dress so smartly? Oh, and there's that whole mzungu part of me....
Two days ago, a letter had been stealthily slipped under my door. "Madam Mary," was printed in the deliberate and ever-so-careful handwriting of some pupil somewhere. "I see you everyday but you don't see me." "I really hope we can be pen friends." Cute, right? I set it aside with every intention of responding, and sticking a letter outside my door for the yet unknown kid.
Yesterday, exhausted, dirty, and starving (I skipped lunch), I had finally arrived home and was making popcorn and tea. There was a knock at my door. "Good evening," I say to the random boy at my door, through the curtain, as I continue to tend to the popcorn.
"Good eveningowareyou?" He said, all in one breath, as many Ugandan children say.
"Oh I'm fine," I said. In my peripheral vision, I could see him slip off his sandals. I had assumed that he, like any other Ugandan child, would respect my space and not come in unless invited. He was not like other Ugandan children. In he walked, still talking to me. He picked up my iron off of the blue Mukwano plastic garden chair, set it aside, and took a seat. I was blown away. I don't like to be blunt or demanding, especially of people I don't know, so I said nothing, but rather offered him some popcorn while I sat, as well. To be clear, I only offered him some so as to not be rude and eat in front of him, but I remind the reader, I was starving. And if you know me when I'm starving, especially with popcorn, I'm greedy. So I only offered once.
"You got my letter," he said.
"Oh yes, and I was going to write back, today even..." I bluffed. There wasn't much in the letter to respond to, so it was going to be hard to write back.
"I see you everyday. I really want to be friends with people like you."
People like me? What, old, white people? YOU'RE 13.
"I'm finding it kind of odd that you want to be my friend. You don't even know me. Usually, when someone here wants to be my friend, they're looking for money or a ticket to the US."
"No, I'm not like that. I just want to be your friend." Nothing seemed to bother this kid. I must say though, his English was pretty good.
"Ok. So..."
"So what do you do on Sundays?" he asked, interrupting me.
"Um, I wash clothes."
"OK, I take you for prayers," he said, confidently, like it was a done deal.
"I don't pray."
"Oh, that's OK too," again, still blown away by his arrogance and command of English, "are you going to town tomorrow?"
"Yes, early in the morning."
"Ok, I'll escort you," he said.
There was no question, but rather just matter-of-factness in his propositions. "Um, no, I can go by myself." What the hell am I supposed to talk about with this kid? "So, you have brothers and sisters?"
"Yes, one younger brother and a sister."
"Ah, that's nice."
"Actually, my younger brother is there, in America."
ORLY?!
"Which state is he in?" I innocently asked. Kid reaches over and grabs a handful of popcorn. Reminder--I only offered popcorn once.
"I don't know. He didn't tell me."
"How old is he?"
"Seven."
"You talk to him on the phone?" Grabs another handful of popcorn.
"Yeah, I talked to him last Wednesday."
"Ah, how does he like school?"
"It's good. He's in P4."
He's in P4 (not fourth grade?), at the age of seven, in America? This kid's story, and body language, were slowly indicating that he's a fantastic liar.
"He even told me," he began, "that they bought him a house."
"A house?" I probed. "Some American bought a seven year old a house?"
"That's what he said!"
It was more than evident that this kid is lying a blue streak. At this point he had taken my whole bowl of popcorn. "And your family? Who else is in your family?"
"Well, I have my mom, but she has the Virus," he said. And now he's trying to lay a guilt trip on me, somehow. He began to tell a sad tale about his family. Credible? Not sure. Hmmm....
"Ok, well I have to run to the trading center here quickly to get some things," I say, setting up my escape.
"First take tea," he said, motioning to my cup. What a demanding little...
"No, I'm going to go now."
"Can I escort you?"
"No."
"Can I stay here?"
"No."
"Why not? I am now your guest."
ORLY?! I couldn't take it anymore.
"I'm trying to be as polite as possible here. I don't know you, you walked into my house uninvited, you ate my food and I'm trying to--as politely as possible--ask you to leave. It's odd that a thirteen year old wants to be a friend of a random woman in the village, and other than my being a mzungu, I can't imagine a reason why you'd want to do that. So, you're welcome to stop by and greet me, but other than that..." I kind of left it there. He got the message, but first cleaned the popcorn bowl before he slipped his sandals back on to leave.
Completely disorganized, as they say here (flustered really) I huffily went over to my neighbor Behna. What I like about Behna is that she can bargain to obscenely low prices and she can be kind of a hard ass. When I found her, she was carrying a newborn baby. Funny how babies can make you soften up and forget your troubles for a bit. She was just holding on to her while the mother was at the market. After a while of loitering and just discussing about other things, I finally got around to my situation that had just happened. She was just as appalled as I had been.
"Don't entertain children in the house. He could be a thief."
Ah! Ba-na, I didn't even think of that! And so, now I'm paranoid.
I see you everyday, but you don't see me.... It doesn't sound so cute anymore....
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