Arusha Arusha - Update 2

7:00am. I awake on Thursday morning to the prospect of another two days of teaching prior to the weekend. I’m absolutely shattered! I’m not sure I can do it, I think to myself. Perhaps another 5 minutes in bed will do the trick, so I hit the snooze on my alarm...

Twenty minutes later I drag myself out of bed and into the cold shower. The refreshing shock to the system of the cool water against my skin wakes me up some, but the lingering dread of a full day's teaching is still present. Partially, it’s the booze from the previous night talking, but much of it is the sheer constant effort that is primary school teaching (in my limited experience).

I'd always thought that the life of a primary school teacher was a blissful one. Read a few stories, get cuddles from adoring children, and other general fluffiness. OK, there's the occasional story to read, and as I arrive at school the children come running to greet me, but once the school bell sounds the kids get their game faces on. Less than two weeks in and I am knackered! I now have a completely new found respect for the teaching profession.

I guzzle down my breakfast (chapati, banana and chai) and rush off to school. I manage to arrive on time, but the school van doesn't arrive for another 45 minutes. T.I.A.

Not wanting to waste the significant effort that was getting out of the bed in the morning, I sit down to write this update. Sitting here now in the internet cafe, I can reflect on a couple of challenging, but rewarding days.

Thursday morning begins once the bus load of children arrive. The first lesson of the day is mathematics. The counting sticks are out... My previous English classes don't seem to have taught them much as they appear to be unaware of the difference between "counting" sticks and "fighting" sticks, and mayhem ensues. I get out the mean Teacher Dominic voice, but this works for about 2 minutes at a time.

Today's topic is multiplication. Not exactly an attention grabber it seems. 90 minutes of multiplication tuition (plus counting stick related injury time) later, and I still receive three different answers to the taxing problem of "two times two is equal to...?" What a great teacher! I try my best not to be discouraged (as this is their first ever multiplication lesson) but decide the kids can go for an early break.

After the morning's draining maths class, I make the tactical decision to re-jig the schedule for the rest of the day. Science and English are replaced by silent reading, art (or vocational studies, as they call it here) and a story. Still lots of misbehaviour, but it goes a lot smoother than the morning session.

Once school is over for the day I head into town (10 minutes ride on the Dalla Dalla local bus). I head to the second-hand clothing market and get immersed in retail therapy, African style. The majority of the stuff has been donated by the American Red Cross (over the last 25 years from the looks of it). Rummaging through the various stalls is like trawling through the Klaxons/Hadouken! tour wardrobe. I lose track of time and have to quickly negotiate a deal ($1.50 for 2 t-shirts) before jumping aboard a crammed Dalla Dalla heading for my adult English class.

Teaching a group of adults, who don't speak a lick of English, but are kind enough to refrain from hitting each other with their pencils, seems like a piece of cake compared to the trauma of the morning.

Today (Friday) goes much better at school. To my surprise, our recap of the multiplication from yesterday seems to sink in and they're all getting the answers (albeit to simple questions) by the end of the session. We follow up with a word-search and then we've got break.

It's my fellow volunteer teacher Lisa's final day at school today (as she returns to the States on Tuesday), so we let the kids watch Tarzan 2 on DVD as a treat. Afterwards, the kids perform a leaving song for her and she's given her leaving present. She has literally taught me everything I know about teaching (and also about "local culture") and I don't know how I'll cope once I'm teaching completely on my own...

Again, I've babbled on for far too long without really saying much, so I'll leave it there. If anything's going on at home then I'd love to hear about it, but otherwise I'll see you all (well, most of you) in June.

Baadaye.

Dominic

P.s. I will get around to putting some photos up soon, I promise...