Thursday, February 25, 2010

"HIV is important to people"

I'm alive and well here in good old Masite Nek.

Teaching is, as it has been since day one, a struggle. But it's fun. I think of it as a year-long challenge, the kids start here (imagine my hand really close to the floor), and I'm trying to see how close I can bring them to wayyyy up here (hand up around eye level).

The class size has tapered off, we're at 107 students in Form A. Their ages range from 13-22 (again, this is 8th grade). One looks like he could kick my ass. There are about 10 boys who look like they are 9 years old. They all talk nonstop, until one of two things happens: a) I give about 10 people detention, or b) I go on a tirade about how they need to grow up, how I'm not their babysitter, and how the rest of the class is spending money to learn, and these certain kids are ruining it for them. All in all, they've developed into a pretty entertaining, though often infuriating, bunch of kids (and men and women).

I have stolen a brilliant teaching strategy from my friend Adam, who is working up North in Butha Buthe. I've split my class into 12 teams, each with some smart kids and some... eh... work-in-progress types. Over the next month, teams compete to have the highest average grade in math, science, and business education classes (I am teaming up with the business teacher for this). Teams got to choose their own names, captains, and assistant captains. The winning team is invited to my house for some homemade American food (chili - I make some pretty good chili). They also will win a pen, which might help with them whining about losing their pens.

In other competition news, ultimate frisbee is developing a small but loyal fan base, and I've had a couple of really fun games with the students. I'm still feeling out how much potential this has to become an official club, or even better, some sort of organized team setup.

Last week I got hit with a pretty nasty cold, even though its 90 degrees here most days. I went to the hospital to get some antibiotics, and when I was there, I got a sweet t-shirt I really wanted. It's bright red, and in huge letters says "HIV POSITIVE." You see them around Lesotho now and then. They're given out by Doctors With Borders. It's just about raising awareness and willingness to discuss HIV. I have been wanting one for a while, and so was thrilled to get one shortly before beginning my science lessons about reproduction and sexual safety.

The story really begins yesterday, when I walked into class prepared to talk about STD's. I tore off my button down shirt Superman-style to reveal the HIV Positive t-shirt. There was much hooting and hollering. I told them to be quiet. I told a story about how my friend got AIDS and died, because her boyfriend thought he was clean, because he never bothered to get tested. This got them to shut up real fast. It's not a true story, but enough people have a story like that that I felt fine telling it, and making it seem more personal for effect. I realized their interest in talking about HIV, so I abandoned my lesson, and had them all write one question they had. I collected them, and planned to read them over and answer as many as I could the next time (today).

Some questions were good, some were silly. Some weren't even questions. My favorite, which made me burst out laughing, and which I am going to hang on my wall, is "HIV is important to people." The girl who wrote it is really sweet, I love her, but... let's just say this is not her first year in Form A. But then... I got this one two-part question, from a tall, quiet, really nice 20-year old guy. He said "1. Where did I get this deases from? 2. Why did'nt I protect my self from this dangerous deases?" My heart sunk when I read it. I wondered what I should do.

So I answered many of the questions in class today, but not his, that would have been really inappropriate. When it ended, I said to come see me if you have more questions. He found me outside immediately, and asked me what he should do. Struggling, I told him I'm not a doctor, but that he needs to go see a doctor to come up with a plan, and that modern treatment makes it possible to live a long, decent quality life. Surely this wasn't the ideal answer, but still, if he goes to see professional help, that's great.

Now, Jerry Springer's Final Thought: As always, the days are a mixture of fun, frustrating, exciting, and depressing. My general state of mind is great though, I'm quite happy, so please don't worry. Or, worry, but attempt to fix it by sending me Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. :) Only kidding. As it says on my frisbee, Life is Good.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Eventful few days

The past few days haven't really been all that busy. I still spend a few hours each day sitting around my apartment trying to find ways to pass the time (I just finished reading Fountainhead, a 695 page book that I got extremely sucked into... or is it better grammatically to say "into which I got extremely sucked"... eh whatever, that's not the point). But it's been highly eventful.

Last Saturday I went to a wedding, as the... guest? date?... of a coworker of mine. Her friends got married. I went into it unsure if I was meant to be her date, or just an American who would be curious to see a Basotho wedding. Even now, it's still very hard to say. But indeed, I was very curious to see it, and it was fun. The whole service was much more energetic than an American wedding service. There was a marching band/choir that paraded through the aisles. The pastor, in an effort to play matchmaker, made all the single folks stand up in their seats and say hello to each other. There is a dance/techno song  called "Marry Me" (by DJ Call Me, if you're curious) that is ridiculously popular in Lesotho and South Africa right now. It cracks me up, because the lyrics are "If I marry you, will you marry me," which makes very little sense. I hear it daily, blasting from the windows of my neighbors houses or the tarven across the street. At the wedding, there were rented 16-person taxis driving us from church to reception and such... in the taxis, Marry Me was on a continuous loop, at full volume, and people were going nuts for it. Really, really fun. The rest of the party was OK, though surprisingly little dancing. The weather wasn't great, maybe that's why. And, they slaughtered sheep, not cows, which was a bummer. I really don't like mutton. But I went home and made myself 2 cheeseburgers for dinner. I have been wanting a cheeseburger for 3 months, it was glorious (side comment, Ellen, I'm glad my hunger for beef amuses you so much, and I'm really excited to hear you're reading the blog!).

So that was all really fun, but on the other end of the spectrum... today, the other teachers and I went to visit the mother of a recently deceased student. [WARNING: This paragraph is horribly depressing.] We ended school two hours early to go there. (Back story: The girl had recently become pregnant, and when the mother found out and confronted her, she became scared. Supposely she was mostly scared of what the father was going to do when he found out. She drank rat poison. She was a Form C student; I didn't know her.) We walked in to the mother slumped on a mattress on the floor, covered in tattered blankets, facing the wall with her head in her hands. The teachers all began to sing Sesotho hymns, which were intense and had a lot of emotion in them, but were unable to drown out the mother's wailing. It was one of the most heart wrenching things I can remember. But the way in which we entered the house, spoke very little, and sang traditional songs for about 30 minutes was very beautiful. Some of the teachers who led the songs didn't even know the girl, but they were no less sincere, and it felt totally natural. There is a level of camaraderie, a certain easiness, among Basotho that does not exist in America.

In other news, my Form A students (now 106 of them) were so terrible yesterday morning that with 20 minutes left in class, I told them I was too angry to teach anymore, and I gave them a big homework assignment to write about what they all did wrong (talking incessantly, throwing paper, cheating on a quiz, whining about not having a pencil, etc), and left the room. I had to teach them again in the afternoon, which began with them apologizing, and then me giving them a long lecture about how much they are wasting each others time. Also about how Lesotho is poor, and someone, parent or otherwise, is struggling to pay money for them all to get an education, and they are wasting it. I was really pissed. But today was improved. Also, I am now underway teaching Form D biology. I have on 21 students in there, and it's amazing. I think about how a baseball player swings two bats in the on-deck circle, so when he steps up to the plate the one bat feels light. That's how 21 Form D students feels... it's a breeze.

I'm also trying to teach some kids at school frisbee. I'm hoping to eventually start having Ultimate Frisbee games, if they have the patience to learn how to throw. OK, TTFN.

Friday, February 5, 2010

So much to say...

I haven't had much of a chance to write in a while. Computer battery life has been hard to come by, but alas, now I have some. Hooray.

Ok, maybe to be honest, I've been procrastinating writing a bit. I found myself thinking, I don't have that much to say, things have been pretty steady these past few weeks. But as soon as I started to write, I realized I have an overwhelming amount to talk about.

Things like... how to manage a class of 97 students in a room that should only have 30, when you have no resources but a chalkboard and chalk, and the kids are conditioned only to respond to being beaten, and I refuse to beat. Things like, why I regularly see students eating entire sheets of paper (and not just the weird kids, the normal ones), and how I can't leave chalk behind after I teach because it disappears instantly (probably gets eaten too). Like, how infuriating corporal punishment is, both from an ethical standpoint, and from the standpoint that it is destructive to the learning process. Like, how, as a new school, we accept any kids we can get to build up our student body, so we end up with a ton of other schools' rejects. This might help to explain why we found 5 kids fighting with switchblades in the grass two weeks ago, how only 35% of the class completed the first homework, and how 81/85 students got <50% on my first math test.

But that's only the bad stuff. And really, I joined Peace Corps for the challenge, and that's exactly what these things are. So from this distorted, semi-perverse perspective, these problems are kind of... good. They keep life interesting, to say the least.

I actually really enjoy my students. Many of them are going to fail, there's no question. A lot are repeating Form A already. Many are orphans, or have been abandoned. Some walk two hours each way to/from school. A good portion of my class is visibly beaten down by school and by life, and despite their actions a lot of the time, I think they all really want to do succeed. I'm starting to get the sense that in many cases, their self esteem sucks, and they are starved for guidance, encouragement, and positive reinforcement.

I had two PC staff come to watch a class on Wednesday, and the class responded by behaving flawlessly, not making a peep, answering questions with enthusiasm. I was stunned. Later in the day, as they sat in the room goofing around with no teacher present (this happens regularly), I walked in. Without saying anything, I wrote on the board "Thank you for being perfect students today in science class. You made me look good." Before I was done writing, they had broken into a screaming, joyous applause like I've never heard before. I hurried to finish writing, because I coudn't help but to laugh and applaud with them for a minute. In the grand scheme, it was a small accomplishment, but they were really proud of themselves. It was a poignant moment, definitely the highlight of teaching in these first 3 weeks.

Another short, funny story. I've become kinda tight with the guy who runs the shop next to my house, Bokang. I usually walk in on the way home from school to say hello, and to pick up anything I need that day. One day last week, I went in to say hi, and out of nowhere, he told me I should get behind the counter and start selling, because he could use some help. I had nothing better to do, so I did as he said. It was pretty fun, and it has evolved to where I now work there for 30 minutes or an hour every day or two. It's a good way to pass the time, to hang out with Bokang, to meet the people from the neighborhood, to practice Sesotho, to play with his dog who is always in the shop, and to clear my debt for keeping food in his fridge.

There's plenty else to talk about, but for now, I'll end it here. Tomorrow I'm going to a Basotho wedding! I hope they slaughter a cow, I would love a steak.