By now, I've settled into a routine in my teaching job. Well, as much as a routine as is possible when the word "schedule" refers to a vague set of guidelines rather than an actual plan. Almost every day, I arrive ready to teach, only to discover that at least one of my classes has been cancelled. The reasons are diverse: extra-long morning mass, sports competitions, HIV testing, sack races (I kid you not), and mandatory 3-hour choir practice called for at the last minute by a rogue priest. When one of the teachers saw me writing lesson plans, he looked at me in wonder and called me a "very serious woman." It's frustrating, but I'm trying to just accept that it is the way it is. Lax time standards are just part of the culture. Sometimes they are nice, like when everything pauses for a mid-morning snack and tea break. Other times I feel like I am going to go insane. I want more time in the classroom. The kids want more time in the classroom; they don't like the interruptions either. So who is the one forcing the interruptions? That's the mystery. No one seems to be running things. Everyone goes with the flow. The flow is in charge.
I don't want to give the wrong impression about St. Francis. The kids are incredibly bright, motivated, and friendly. Despite their very limited resources, they manage to learn a great deal. I just found out that they routinely wake up at 5 am for an hour of study before they get ready for the day. They also have class from 4-6 am on Sundays (yup, you read that correctly) because that's the only time the teacher is available. An American high school student would simply up and leave. But these kids take school very seriously. It is their way out of poverty and into a life that they choose. I asked the kids what they do in the month-long breaks between terms. "We dig," they said. That's what they do during "vacation;" they dig and plant and harvest. It is not fun. They would much rather be at school.
And indeed, they spend a lot of time at school, arriving before 8 and leaving after 5. That's a long day, but there is a lot of downtime spent just waiting for things to happen. At first, I wondered why they didn't just cut out the breaks and shorten the school day. But like I said, downtime is part of the culture, and something I would do well to learn. Plus, unlike American kids, Ugandan students don't stare at the clock and count down the seconds until dismissal. In the first place, there is no clock. Secondly, school means friends and fun and learning. Home means a long walk, followed my chores and taking care of siblings. Who wouldn't rather stay at school forever?
Last week was the annual house competition. This event, which made me think of Hogwarts, is a national secondary school phenomenon. The students divide into 3 teams and compete in a variety of events like football (soccer), netball, debate, and even a yard work contest. (Yard work, in fact was one of the biggest class-interrupting culprits.) It's a mixture of fun and seriousness. The competitive spirit pervades the whole school, and when the time comes for a new challenge, the excitement in the air is electric. On Friday, the students banded together as one school and traveled to Kayabwe High School to participate in a sports and debate competition. St. Francis was definitely the underdog. Not only did Kayabwe have A-level (the most advanced) students, but compared to St. Francis, its facilities seemed like the Taj Mahal. I never thought a Ugandan high school could seem luxurious, but perspective does funny things. The funniest part about the day was the atmosphere. It was exactly that of the high school tennis tournaments and football games of yore. There was a certain unspoken antagonism between the two sides, and even a few outspoken parents and teachers who contested Sister Estellina's netball refereeing skills. Some things are universal. In the end, St. Francis won at netball (I was proud that Sister whipped out team into shape in just a week- they were awesome) and lost football, volleyball, and the debate. This may sound disheartening, but I was so proud of the students for putting their hearts into each event and giving the better-funded Kayabwe a run for its money. Go St. Francis. Hmmm, I should find them a mascot.
As far as teaching goes, I'm enjoying it much more than I expected. When I actually do get to be in the classroom, I have so much fun. The kids are accustomed to very standard, by-the-book teaching, so every time I add a new tool like an acronym or a rhyme, they stare at me silently and then dissolve into giggles. It's gratifying to be able to show them new things and encourage them to be creative. I tried to do madlibs yesterday, and that was definitely a failure- they just didn't quite get my silly sense of humor. It's OK, though, most people don't. But I'm slowly introducing new things, and I think, for the most part, they enjoy it. I only wish I could spend al day with them. There is so much to work on, it's very difficult to choose what to cram into an hour and twenty minutes. So far, their English education has been grammar based. I am obligated to teach some grammar because of national requirements, but I really want to work on their reading and writing skills as well. I set one of my classes a composition assignment: write about a Ugandan meeting a muzungu on the road. Most of them took that as a cue to write about me. I was variously described as tall, white, big, interesting, and having an "enchanting" smile. One especially articulate boy wrote that he thought I was a tourist up until the very moment I started teaching. It was all rather enlightening. Also a little scary, being put under a microscope, even if some of the scrutiny was a little difficult to understand.
The attempt to reconcile accomplishing things with being chill is my ever-present struggle. I don't think I'll ever master it completely. But I'm trying not to let all the wasted time bother me so much. It's funny, I've never been much of a stickler for punctuality (whoops...), but here I long for some semblance of structure. I suppose it's part of the adjustment. I've been here for 3 weeks, but it seems like much longer. As much as I'm learning and enjoying (which is a LOT), there are days when I just wish I were home. Oh well, I guess it will be all the sweeter when I actually do get there. For now, know that you're all in my thoughts. Missing you.
P.S. This weekend I'm going on safari in Queen Elizabeth National Park. I will return exhausted, smelly, and hopefully in possession of some good pics of animals. Can't wait for the hippos!!
P.P.S. Sorry for no pictures, the internetz is being really slow today (on a good day, pics take an hour to upload). I'll try to incorporate them into the next post. I have some awesome ones of the students and of Sister coaching. :)
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