School Practice-iiii!!!!!

These past two weeks have been BUSYYYYY!  It's school practice time, which is essentially a final exam for our second year students.  Everyday I've been going to a different school in the area to supervise as many students as I can.  Each of our 192 Second Year students have to be supervised 5 times each--that's 960 supervisions, minimum.  As busy as it is, it's been super fun.  I've been trying to capture fun activities and rich learning environments.  In these pictures, my students are dressed in brown, or white (for PE).  Everything you see decorating the classrooms was made by our students--everything.  At most of the schools these students walked into, they found four walls (sometimes three) and a floor (sometimes dirt), and they had to make a real classroom out of it.  I'm sure you all will appreciate the students' hard work as much as I do.  :D 

The first video above is what's called "Free Activity," where students have a guided play time in which they discover things about the theme they're learning about.  In this particular theme, culture and customs (or something like that), these students were acting out an introduction ceremony.  You can see the bride, seated, with her aunties.  The children singing are part of the DJ's music, and the groom's side of the family. 
The second video was today when I was supposed to somehow supervise four PE lessons all at once--that didn't happen...the activity happening directly in front of me was a relay race where students had to fill their mouths with water, then run to the center where there was an empty bottle, and spit the water into the bottle to fill it. 

This picture  has nothing to do with student teaching--check out that giant bee!
He was carrying it around on that stick like a dog on a leash...

Kiri OK!

    I woke up at three AM one morning without explanation.  I couldn’t get back to sleep.  I tossed and turned--no idea what woke me up.  My neighbor’s newborn baby, Shamila, wasn’t even making a peep (which was a rare occurrence--she cries every waking moment unless Sarah is holding her).  I remember finally drifting back to sleep, thinking to myself that the gnawing sound must be the termites in my shelves.  My alarm, next to my ear, gently coaxed me out of slumber at 6:50--EE EEE EEEEEEEEE.  I hit snooze about three times until 7:30, when I finally decided that I should probably be somehow on time that day. 

    Walking much like Frankenstein, I make it to my kitchen (AKA my only other room) and put my kettle on to boil.  When the metal of the kettle and the stove met, it made a loud CLINK--which scared the glasses-case sized, brown, fat mouse.  He took off running, leaped off of my stove table and scared the bejeezus out of me.  Naturally, I screamed, did a funny dance and ran outside to tell Sarah.  I didn’t see where he ran to, so as I got ready that morning, I crept around, wary of every little nook and cranny, or pile of clothes, in fear that the brown, possibly rabid, rodent was going to attack my feet.  Remnants of his presence littered my duuka, much like debris after a tropical storm; a chewed tomato, g-nut shells, mouse poop...all from one night? 
    I told my staff that day about my new roommate, which elicited a lot of different, unique solutions to my problem.  Poisonous tablets, rat glue, poison on toast, a trap, or even let him stay...I really didn’t like that last suggestion... After work that day, I reached home and began chatting with Andrew, my neighbor, like usual.  He was telling me about school and whatnot, and of course I told him about my mouse problem.  While discussing possible solutions, I put some water on to boil again and SURPRISE!  A brown furball scurried right by my feet and into my bedroom.  I grabbed one of my heels and ran outside.  Andrew ran to get a stick while I just whined like a goat in the rain.  He came back and went right to business, poking everything in my house to see if it would retaliate.  The poking method worked--he narrowed it down to the corner of my room with some paper charts.  Squeezing it to death didn’t work--the critter was pretty chunky.  Whenever it ran past my feet I just screamed and pointed, and Andrew would run after it.  It tried to make an escape through a window, but instead just scaled the mosquito screen.  It was then I understood the full girth of the beast, as i saw it outlined on the curtain.  The next minute was a blur of screaming and Andrew hitting everything with a stick--then the mpube finally ran out.  Hurrah!        

    If you can believe it, that wasn’t the most exciting animal encounter in my life as of late--the following day, a monkey was wandering around the PTC.  I was told that monkeys live up the hill from me, but they’re starting to travel down in search of food.  Immy and I tried our level best to lure it near with food--it didn’t see us, and took off to a neighboring house.  We then imagined what that family must have thought when they saw a monkey come into their compound. 

    On the work front, it’s probably the most exciting part of my job--supervising!  I now travel to area schools and supervise my preservice teachers’ lessons.  My heart really goes out to them--during my student teaching experience, we had 20 weeks to figure everything out, and we weren’t supervised until at least the third week.  These students have four weeks, and they get supervised starting on the second day.  However, it seems that they love to be supervised and get feedback.  Everyone is asking, “Madam, when are you coming to see me there?”  Another challenge they are facing is that the college cannot afford to send students to far schools, so all 190 Year II students can only use the 9 primary schools nearby.  Because of that, there are as many as three student teachers in one classroom.  The students are working with it well, though, and I think it helps sometimes for them to share ideas and work as a team.  I’ve so far enjoyed a lot of the lessons I’ve seen.  It’s interesting to see students who never talk in class get up in front of 75 P4 students and teach a really creative lesson with great confidence and ease.   
    Also somehow on the work front, I’ve been continuing with facilitating the Scouts.  Last Saturday I collected about five--which was enough, I decided, to have an official meeting.  We worked on building a campfire.  You may be thinking, bana--these people know how to build a cooking fire.  They sure do, but the suggested fire structure from the internation Scouting handbook is not a three-stone fire.  Once our fire was blazing, we sat around and sang songs...in the middle of the day...next to construction workers.  I felt pretty silly, but it seemed that the Scouts didn’t mind one bit.  The week prior, we discussed First Aid, and practiced steps one takes when approaching a casualty.  The first meeting attracted maybe eight members, the second meeting five....to encourage attendance next week, I put up an advertisement in the Year One hall....I’m crossing my fingers that it helps.   
    That’s all worth mentioning from Wanyange.  Hoping that these next weeks hold some blog-worthy events.  

Medi, ready to dig.  I live near some of the cutest
kids in the world....

Musa, Behna and Tagaba in the garden

My overly enthusiastic Scouts, sitting by the
campfire. 

My neighbor Andrew with my other neighbor's baby
Shamila. 

Shakira and I.  Shakira doesn't photograph well...just believe me
she's adorable. 

 

One of my students' classes--P2

You are what? You are lost.

     My dear readers....I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve been lost.  This is what most of my village tells me, “you are lost these days.”  Yes, I explain, I’ve been training in Kampala for these past three weeks.  One quick note on the area that I call my village--when we refer to volunteers here that are wayyyyy out there, away from creature comforts and ice cream joints, tarmacked roads or really even a trading center (re: a place to buy food), we say they are in the VILLAGE (emphasis on the word village).  For that reason, I feel it’s wrong that I keep referring to my site, 15 minutes away from Jinja (the most mzungu-filled town next to Kampala) as a village.  Is there a better word, though?  I can’t think of one.  I’m back in Wanyange, anyway.

    So, Mary, what ripped you away from your internet addiction for a whole month?  It started with in-Service Training, then a four day vacay, then the All-Volunteer Conference.  In-Service Training’s purpose was to get our group of 44 volunteers (we’re all still here!) back together to polish our language, train with our counterparts on life skills and reflect on our experience so far.  The language training was somewhat unstructured, which was OK--I took advantage of the teacher and had some one-on-one lessons.  The following week our counterparts arrived, and we did some fun life skills activities, as well as discussed how to cooperatively develop projects and plan accordingly.  Immy and I thought of a project that costs virtually no money...more on that if it actually comes to fruition.
 

    Following IST, we had a four day do-whatever.  Our volunteers coming from the north, the far west and the far east weren’t expected to go back to site, so a rafting trip had been planned.  I decided to not participate for the monetary reason and possible health risks (blame it on me watching too much House--I could imagine the whole episode, me suffering and probably vomiting blood, the team stressed out and doing tests after tests, one of them suggesting sarcoidosis, and House’s random solution triggered by Wilson talking about golfing destinations...)  And, lucky me, I’m only a two hour trip from Kampala, so I just went back home and did laundry on Sunday.
    Sunday afternoon was the much anticipated Booze-cruise.  It was pretty epic.
    On Monday, some friends whose sites are in the North came to Jinja and stayed over (in my two-room duuka) and it was SO MUCH FUN!  I still don’t know what is being said about me having two males spend the night, but whatever they’re saying, it was worth it.  The Jinja market was first on our agenda before hitting up some supermarkets for our dinner feast.  We made some fantastic pasta with pesto sauce, and garlic bread! 

Shopping in the Jinja market.

 
On Ilse: Second-hand dress, cotton, probably from England.

Wee! Preparing dinner.

We're ready to eat!

    Earlier that day, while giving them a tour of my (village?!) we passed a goat giving birth!  The kid, the size of a small cat, was glistening in the afternoon sun, still goopy from its recent introduction to the world.  It was instinctively looking for milk, and the mother was chewing off its umbilical cord.  We were all stunned, and I’m pretty sure it was everyone’s first time witnessing an animal birth.  However, on our way back from my PTC, an old woman, next to the goat (pushing out kid number three) was there.
    “Mugye! Mugye!”
    “Oh, uh, Oliotya!” My guests said, waving.  (It means hello)
    “Mugye!  Muvaayo!”
    “Oh jeez, keep moving, she wants us to get away...” I explained.  Instantly I thought it was a cultural mishap--perhaps it’s rude to watch other people’s animals giving birth?!  The old woman gave me a quick ‘webele’ for translating correctly.
    A bit flustered and confused, I asked around.  I got the same answer from three different women, “no, there’s nothing wrong with watching animals give birth.”  Whatever the case was, I guess I wouldn’t want anyone freaking out my animals while giving birth.
    Tuesday was our travel day to the Ridar hotel in Seeta, which to me is like paradise.  Pool, bar, rooms with bathrooms inside (WITH HAIRDRYERS, and hot showers).  It was awesome.  The All-Volunteer Conference is where all (nearly) 200 volunteers in country come together and share projects, ideas, strategies and, of course, books.  Events like this are great because I don’t otherwise see the volunteers from other groups.  One of my favorite sessions was from Raising Voices, a group committed to ending violence against children and women in Uganda.  I know that if I try to pursue a project like this with changed behavior of practicing teachers, I’ll get frustrated and give up.  I know the attitudes of current teachers and professionals here, and it will take a lot of intervention and monitoring, not to mention changing of attitudes.  Instead of doing that, I’m going to just start the conversations in my classroom at the PTC with future teachers--those who haven’t been stressed out and beaten down by the system yet, and have yet to develop their teaching philosophy.  I’ve set a small goal for myself, and that is just to have conversations (guided by materials from Raising Voices) in the classroom.  We’ll see how it goes. 
    And now I’m back home, back to work, back to village life.  I put on perhaps ten pounds in the three weeks I was gone?  Well done, Mary.  It was all that damn tea time, with those delicious and seemingly endless snacks...