The kiddies

I have already learned more from the children in my school than I could ever  teach. To say the experience is rewarding would be a drastic understatement. It is certainly challenging at times, and I am often speechless at how out of balance and unfair our world is, but the children are so incredibly loving my days are full of hugs and endless appreciation for simply being present.

Amani and Sister Casmiri. 

35 children are in my class, and I think I've finally identified the age range from 2 to 6. Many of them don't actually know their accurate age. There is Amani, just over 2 years old who can say the entire alphabet, and is a myna-bird and repeats whatever I say in English including, "Amani, how are you today?". Then there are children like Lameck or Bertimo, who are about 6 and can't get past the letter 'E' in the alphabet. The pack of girls make me melt - Devota the flirt, Violet the sweetheart, Angel, Innocence, Caren and Glory, and then the boys including Bruno who shows up everyday in a pink sweatshirt with a castle on it knowing nothing of the gender stereotypes that would have him teased back home. He's simply happy for something warm (albeit muddy) to wear on a chilly morning. There is cunning Nickson, who I discovered a few weeks ago is on the cusp of reading. I'm glad someone absorbed the African countries Sister kept making me shout and repeat! Now I know he can sound out Mozambique. The names of some of the kids crack me up. My fellow volunteers had even more interesting ones. There is Gift, Funny, God Bless, and Lightness. To make matters even more complicated they often spell their names various ways. Another hurdle in my determined attempt to get them  all to (somewhat) master writing their names. Innocencia and I have worked on no less than a dozen spellings of her name. I have to laugh. 

Nickson, my not so secret favorite.

It took so long to assess the massive range of capabilities in the classroom. I'm thrilled another volunteer has joined me who can eventually pick-up where I leave-off versus starting from scratch. We now can split the class in half which is a luxury to be able to spend quality time with just 15 or so students and tailor a lesson. There are a handful of very troubled children who act out, and a few with ADD and one I think is autistic. Something I didn't think much about before coming here was how learning disabilities and other problems have no real way of being diagnosed, much less treated. For all I know some of the children who don't participate may have hearing or sight problems.

Lameck

Lameck for example bounces off the wall like no child I've ever seen. He actually swings from the window shutters. Apparently the last volunteer was reduced to tears often by his extreme behavior. I now recognize he has a lot of problems, focus and hyperactivity being the least of them. After many challenging days, even weeks, he now holds a special place in my heart. He needs so much love and individual attention I fear he will never catch-up or be on par with students his age. We recently made progress on writing his name which is a huge step in the right direction. When I asked about his home life my fears were confirmed when Sister explained that his father does hit him. I'm trying to figure out what, if anything I can do, or we can do for this kid, but it is so challenging here, and there are so many others like him, it's hard to know where to begin in this system, or lack there-of. But I'm continuing to ask questions...



Our tiny village is full of more children than I've ever seen in my life (although I recognize I live in Manhattan where everyone is permanently in their 20s or 30s and children are a rare breed). On just our street in Karanga there are practically a dozen schools. A dozen! I still can't figure out where in the cornfield all these children come running from. In addition to the schools there are more orphanages than I naively knew existed. There are so many unwanted children it breaks my heart. I think of how many people I know desperately wanting children and I get angry at the politics and infrastructure that make adoption from a country like Tanzania very, very hard. Birth control here is often not available, or practiced. All of the many, many factors has the average number of children in each household hovering somewhere around 7 or 8. Today in the US this number is below 2 I believe. In a lot of cases pregnancy is also used as a method for men to maintain power over the women. I've often heard the phrase "Tie her down with a baby." The men are often found out at bars (or with other women) while their wives are at home with the children and tending to the banana trees. And no, that is not a euphemism.

My girls Angel, Devota, and Innocencia. 

I've made some progress teaching once I grappled with the chaos, barriers and range of children's abilities. So many of them simply memorize it is a tough habit to break in terms of not only learning, but how the teacher is teaching. I know this is a challenge with kids of this age anywhere in the world, but with limited resources and a big class it's even harder. A large part of where we have success is teaching the teachers. Individual attention is not something that was practiced when I arrived. It couldn't be with 35 students to one teacher. And many schools it is over 50 students to 1 teacher. I now try and bring handouts, worksheets or even a craft to get them to focus for a bit so I can spend time with those who need it most.

While I never feel qualified for the advice I give, I'm reminded that my access to an education in the United States makes me more than qualified. People here cannot believe that a free public education is available where I come from. They can't comprehend the government pays for this. And to think I received a private school education! All of the teachers here proudly say that attendance is up when a volunteer is present in the classroom. That alone makes me feel good. Unfortunately attendance is low though if it rains. If I had to hike it through a cornfield  in a downpour I'd probably stay home too. You'll see most have uniforms, but from what I can tell each child has only one, and wears the same one everyday. It's probably easier than dealing with very limited clothing choices, but they never are washed, sewn or cleaned at all.

Materials are scare but donations from all of you has helped so much. When I first passed out crayons they didn't know what to do with them. I had to walk around and show them how to color. Can you imagine? It was crazy. As we bounced around ideas back at the home base for arts and crafts we thought of making play-dough or clay from scratch, but nixed the idea because we heard the kids might try and eat it. As we briefly talked about macaroni necklaces my assumption was correct that it is not appropriate to waste food for play, and the kids will likely try and eat it it raw. At least the 30 toilet paper rolls I've been saving all month will finally come in handy this week for an art project. Thank you fellow CCS volunteers for helping horde.

Caren and Glory, 2 more of my favorites. Maybe they are all my favorites.

One of the toughest things to get used to here is the practice of corporal punishment that still exists, and is often culturally accepted. I was startled when I realized this. Tanzania is over a generation behind us in many ways, this being one of them. I hope just as my generation has evolved from my parents', the same will eventually happen here. I am fortunate that Sister does not believe in, or practice it (much). She uses the stick we use as a pointer for a quick snap on the hand occasionally. I rationalize this as being similar to the rumors I heard of decades ago in the States when a nun would apparently hit a kid with a ruler. The trouble is, as we all know, it is a slippery slope. What is once a quick snap on the hand can quickly turn into a much more dangerous beating, which does occur in many schools. The other obvious issue is the children then only respond to the threat of the stick, or the hand, not my raised voice. This is even more of a problem if they are often being hit at home.

We had a new TA arrive a few weeks ago whose tactics are not to my liking. My heart breaks into a thousand little pieces when I see little Lameck flinch when the stick is raised. I have to restrain myself from not swooping him up and carrying him out of the classroom and running to the airport to save this kid. I'm a few steps away from pulling an Angelina Jolie and bringing him back to the States with me. For now I'm trying to work with them on other forms of disciplines like time outs, etc. It's now no surprise that when chaos breaks out in the classroom they all start hitting each other. They've learned it's acceptable. Sigh.

There are ups and downs, and so many children I wish I could help in so many ways. It is hard to feel like whatever I am doing, it is not enough. I remind myself I am but a piece to a bigger organization with a broader goal. My fellow volunteers can build from the knowledge I've gained and shared about each child's needs. There really is no better feeling than a dozen children running out of the dirt paths and cornfield to race to school with me each day. It's a funny sight to watch them bouncing off into the postcard picture scurrying home. So different from our systematic public school bus or carpool system.  I still can't figure out how they find their homes later, it is one big maize maze to me. Ha! Ok, that's my cue to get some sleep. And the fact that the power has gone out twice while writing this.

Emmanuel, my neighbor. We sing songs on the walk to  minimize the language gap.