make it a 4-wheel drive

This beautiful Sunday began (and ended) with the story of public transportation in Lesotho. If Peace Corp officials were with me on public transport today we would all have cars. Around 10AM I set out to pick up a kombi for the two and a half hour journey back to my hut. Five hours later, a kombi (van) showed up. During my wait, two trucks passed me (no luck hitching, both were totally full). Wow, I am isolated. The Kombi might have come at 3PM, bus this is Lesotho where vehicles do not move until they are full. Luckily, we only waited 30 minutes for the kombi to fill up. I am incredibly thankful the time was so short; the wait can be longer than two hours. We drive about 30 minutes and stop for an hour for unexplained reason to me. Sit. Pace. Sit. Pace. Come to find out we stopped so my driver could consume past the legal limit of alcohol. I am 30 minutes from my starting point, and two hours from my destination. It’s 5PM, the daylight will be gone in a little over two hours. I have no choice but to continue. Picture curvy, dirt, mountainous roads with no guardrails and steep cliffs… all with an intoxicated driver. Part of the experience? May be a part, not a part I enjoyed. This is the only point in my almost four months here I have felt extremely unsafe. The driver was in no hurry. He kept stopping the kombi to chat it up with friends along the way. I made it back to my site as the sun was setting, about 7PM. I made him drop me off at my house. I am not sure if staying in the car longer was the best idea, but I was in no mood to walk the 25 minutes home for the bus stop and I figured I had already made it this far. Alive and well.

Where do you draw the line?

I gave my first test last Thursday (02.17.10). Ideally, I would have given it much sooner; a month of math is a lot for an eight grade brain. Cultural norms say tests here are given monthly, and I am not about to stray from those. I was so excited to see how my students performed. It was going to be my first chance to see if they were really grasping the material.

Disaster 1: The test was prepared with 29 questions, 55 possible marks (points). I thought this was reasonable. The students were going to have 90 minutes to complete the test so I figured about three minutes a question was appropriate. Most of my students did not get past question 20. I felt so bad. Their cries of panic about how they were going to fail, ALL. MY. FAULT. Lesson Learned: No more than 15 questions for a 90 minute test. It will take a lot more work to make 15 well-developed questions that span across a month of material. Plan ahead.

Disaster 2: We have to write the tests with the other teachers in our subject (I suppose to standardize things as much as possible). I teach two of the three eight grade math classes. Due to the fact I am incredibly impatient, I allowed the other eight grade math teacher use my test. He “approved” of the test and gave it to his students as well. He is a student teacher, so I think he appreciated it, but he might be lacking the same experience in practicality I am. Lesson Learned: It is okay to ask for help and gather advice from other more experience teachers, even when they appear flustered and super busy.

Disaster 3: There are no computers at my school which means I had to write (more importantly fit) all 29 questions on the chalk board. The students start working as soon as I start writing questions which means my back was turned to them for 30 minutes while I wrote questions on the board. The chatter was kept to a minimum, and I want to believe the best. Sadly, we live in a results based world where true learning is often left at the door. There are some similarities to America. Lesson Learned: Now that I realize how slowly they work it is okay to pause after every question or so to peruse the aisles (not that I can fit down them).

Disaster 4: In the middle of one of my tests visitors from the Ministry of Education came to talk to the Orphans and Vulnerable Children (OVCs), which happened to be 36 of my 71 students. Ooops, definitely did not tell anyone I was giving a test today therefore they neglected to tell me the visitors were coming. Like everything in life, we made it work. Lesson Learned: Ask in advance, way in advance, about any upcoming events.

Disaster 5: Telling my students I would get their tests back to them the next day. I regret ever harping on a teacher/professor for not getting assignments back promptly. Until you are actually grading 137 math tests with 55 possible points each you can’t understand how much work goes into the process. Not to mention teaching also involves lesson planning and a multitude of other activities going on at school to take part in (Mushroom Demonstrations? Grants to write. Science labs to clean.). Oh a lets not forget my students who have atrocious handwriting copied the questions from the chalk board, following their train of thought with my very neat key is i.m.p.o.s.s.b.l.e. They write the questions like I receive your letters, one, six, three, fifteen, four, and twelve. (Rant: They do not number their problems. Tell them to number them. Yeah, I have. They do not understand this foreign concept. I admit defeat on this battle. How many different ways can you explain number the questions? And after seeing their results we should not be wasting any more class time on this matter!) When I was not in class I was marking, for four straight days. No socializing, no lesson planning, no lunch breaks, no reading, no letter writing, no fun. Lesson Learned: Make no promises. Way less questions=way less marking. Smile.

Disaster 6: The students performance. Sub-par, to put it nicely. This only makes me dislike teaching more. Out of total 137 students I had two students make an 87%, one make an 80%, one make a 72%, one make a 70%, and two make a 67%. Seven(!!!) students performed well(?) and after that the closest was a 51%. Lesson Learned: I have not decided between lower my expectation (a lot), or move even slower in class with even more examples.

This test made me realize that I am not going to be able to reach out to all of my students no matter how much I want to. All my life I have wondered why certain teachers cared so much. Now I understand. Despite my passionate hatred of teaching I hike to school to teach, day after day because that is what I came here to do. I put an ample amount of time into preparing my lessons, hoping to connect to my students and really drive the points home. I want everyone to do well. I want to believe in every one of them, give them a glimpse of hope. That’s impossible. I hate to use that term (especially so early), however, it is unrealistic. I may not be the best teacher. I know I am not the best teacher. I try really hard and someday all that trying is going to pay off. Oh pipe dreams.

Mushroom Demonstration

Today at school we had a mushroom demonstration. A mushroom demonstration is just what it sounds like, a lecture on mushrooms. The lesson was actually taught in English, accurate, informative, and interesting. I just covered nutrition and I am going to start species diversity in my freshman science class so this tied in really well. The only problem I have is you can’t get mushrooms in this country, not in my district, not anywhere. I had to ask. The lecturers informed me they had not really thought about it, they get theirs from South Africa. Oh that is perfect, since most of my teachers (one of the highest paying professions in Lesotho) have not even been to the capital of Lesotho 6.5 hours away. That is how we do things in Lesotho. Here is this great (as in healthy) affordable food… that you can’t have. Enjoy (looking at pictures).

My School

Since arriving in Lesotho I have only been to four high schools, and I have to say mine is definitely the nicest one. The school sits on a mountain plateau with the most breathtaking views of a million mountains surrounding a river valley. The school was built in 2006 and started with eight-grade only. With each year the school has added 100 plus students, the next grade level, and a classroom. This is the first year with all five grades (eight through twelfth), approximately 550 students in all. We have three eight and ninth grade classes and two tenth, eleventh, and twelfth grade classes. Unfortunately, we only have eleven classrooms so the third ninth grade class is occupying the AMAZING science lab. No lie, the science lab is nicer than the ones at either of the high schools I attended. I am trying to encourage my teachers that we can still utilize the lab (it can’t sit there all year untouched) by some sort of sign up system. They are not taking to that too well. I teach my science class in the lab, so if nothing else my students will partake in lots of experiments.

Primary school (first through seventh grade) is free in Lesotho. High school is up to the parents. Tuition is 430 Maulti for the year (about 57 dollars), and 220 Maluti (30 dollars) for books. We are a government school, meaning the government is supposed to give us funding. There is a lot of corruption in the government so that funding rarely shows up. We are lucky enough to have electricity, RUNNING water, the science lab (I mentioned), and a fair amount of equipment in the science lab! This is all great, but we are extremely short on teachers so there is lots of time in the day when the students just sit in class with no teacher and nothing to do. Sigh. Only one of my teachers has been there more than one year, four are student teachers (no pay, young, little work ethic), and one is a PCV (me). Working in the highlands is a starting position; people ideally want to work in the lowlands where life is more developed. There are no computers at my school (I am attacking this one pronto). Do you know how much time it takes to write a test on a chalkboard? Let me not fail to mention, while you write your back is to your students meaning cheating is at an all time high. The school lacks a library (my first true project), a kitchen (another thing I am going to be pushing), and an assembly hall (very important here, good for fundraising).

School runs from 7:00AM to 4:00PM. From 7:00-7:45AM the students have a mandatory study period. At 7:45AM we have assembly, the highlight of the day. The students sign the national anthem, sometimes a cultural song, then they recite the Lord’s Prayer, and listen to announcements. Classes start at 8:00AM and run in 40 minute increments, with a 20 minute break at 10:40AM, and a one hour lunch break at 1:00PM. The schedule is different everyday. Math and science have seven periods a week each so twice a week (in each class) I teach doubles (80 minute blocks). The students sit in the same classroom all day, and the teachers pass. Friday classes end at 1:00PM, but students have to stay on campus and study, play sports, or participate in a club. We have a volleyball and a net as far a sports go. Clubs consist of science/math club, debate, drama, and choir.

Uniforms at my school (and most others I assume) are taken very seriously. The girls where button up shirts under their turquoise jumpers. Then there is a turquoise sweater that goes over the jumper. The button up shirt collar comes over the sweater. The boys were gray dress slacks, with the same button up shirt, turquoise sweater, collar must be over sweater neck. Black dress shoes for boys and girls. Monday and Wednesday it is white button up shirts and white socks while Tuesday and Thursday it is khaki button ups with black socks. Do you remember when tracksuits were in? Okay, maybe they were never in… but here they are in, so in. Friday, it is turquoise track suite day. Best part, I am getting hooked up with one soon (in Lesotho, that means by then end of the year). I can’t wait to rock my turquoise tracksuit (a day off from a skirt)! Hair must be shaved, both girls and boys. If you wear the wrong uniform or forget the uniform you are sent home.

The Joaleng

This weekend we had a “welcome to your new district party” at my place. All the volunteers in my district gathered together for good food and fun. Good will be the term I use to describe any food not cooked by me! Most parties serve a little booze.

Problem 1: There is only beer in my district, a substance my body will not allow me to drink.

Problem 2: We are in Lesotho.

Why are these problems? You have already learned abusing alcohol is a major problem in this country. Well you see in order to get that beer sold by the quart you have to bring back your empty bottle.

Us: “Ntate (equivalent to Mr.), we have not bought beer here before, how can we have empties?”

Ntate: “No sell, no empties.”

Us: “What do we do if this is our first time at your bar?”

Ntate: “No sell, no empties.”

Us: “Can we bring them back to you in the morning?”

Ntate: “No sell, no empties.”

This conversation went on for quite sometime. The sale was not made until we found some villagers to provide us with empties, which are now being held hostage till my next visitors arrive (under the command of the other volunteers).

This is Lesotho.

Teaching

Cross teaching off possible career options. I do not like teaching at all, which is horribly depressing since that is my primary project while I am here. Teaching is not sustainable. It could be… but not in my case. I have a background in Biology (not teaching or math). I am teaching eight-grade math (adding and subtracting fractions, sets, properties of shapes, measuring angles). I have no experience teaching classes of 70 plus students who are learning in their second language, nor do I have knowledge in classroom management. The only “teaching” I have done is tutoring where there were never more than five students at a time. Not only do I lack teaching experience, I have not been here long enough to grasp the education system (patience, patience, patience). I did not expect it to be like America, and I do not want it to be. The Basotho have so much pride in their culture and country. I do not want to step on any toes or make changes in that department. I just want to get my students and I want them to get me.

I am happy to report my principal and co-teachers have been nothing but helpful, friendly, and understanding. I am supposed to be here to help them and instead I feel like a burden. I am constantly asking them questions, shadowing their classes (anything for new ideas), and using their lesson plans. They will stop everything they are doing and try their best to explain things to me. I am so grateful they do their best to speak in English when I am around or translate when I ask.

Teaching is also not challenging. My only challenge is finding a way to make myself like it. I do not use other teachers lesson plans because I am lazy… I use them because I tend to overdo it. The “textbooks” here are very basic and bland so when I have memories of something one of my teachers did growing up I like to spice it up, which on multiple occasions has led to mass chaos, laughter, and confusion. Never hurts to try, or keep trying? As of now I go to school, I write notes on the board, I repeat the notes twice orally during class, I ask questions, the students answer incorrectly, I correct them, I assign homework, I grade homework. Repeat Monday through Friday. It’s depressing. I realize making any true changes/differences in this country is impossible. I am not giving up. I am being realistic. This is more of a survival/cultural experience.

Growing up my teachers have definitely been the most influential people in my life. Here I am, given this incredible opportunity to “give back” and be that person for my students. That brings me to the third reason I dislike teaching: I can’t communicate with my students. They do not understand basic instructions (write your name on your paper, this is your homework, pick up your notebooks at break in the staff room). The school system is so test oriented (much like America) as opposed to learning oriented. The majority of my students struggle because they have never been taught how to learn. They do not take notes in class, they attempt to memorize everything (does not work in math!), and they have no concept of time (and how to manage during a test). I wish I could take class time to teach them some of the things I find beneficial, but it would take days to for them to “get” it, meaning “wasting” tons of class time when I need to be cramming their heads with math facts. In my opinion, it would not be a waste at all. It could potentially benefit them for life, except we are in Lesotho where there is NO future thought. I am in a bind.

On the upside, I did pick up a ninth grade science class last week. I still do not really enjoy teaching, but my students have an extra year of English under their belts (so much help). Plus, they are ever so curious. They like when I come hang out with them, and they are really open and honest with me.

True or False?

I burn bread. True. Here the bread cooks in grocery bags, imagine the smell of burnt plastic for days. I melt holes in countertops. True. When you boil eggs it is not okay to set the hot pot on the plastic counter. It melts and also releases burning plastic toxins. I forget baking powder when I cook scones. True. To think, I thought I was a decent baker. The 400 batches of chocolate chip cookies A.L.R.L. and I made should have given me some practice. Scones aren’t cookies. Dutch ovens are not ovens. There is a patch of arm hair missing on my left arm due to improperly lighting my gas stove. True. Light the match, and then turn on the stove. Lesson(s) learned. I made some zucchini slop not even the starving dogs would touch. True. I hate being the “rich, white American” who puts food out for the flowers. Another true story. When I disposed of my zucchini slop I thought I hid it well. Later that night my well-educated host mother approached me to inquire, “Why are you feeding the flowers?” I knew exactly what she was talking about. I thought I hid the slop well. Umm, I was actually hiding that from you. My face turning bright red, my brain frantically coming up with excuses. I replied, “the dogs must have dragged it from the pile.” Her reply, “You know it is pretty bad if the dogs in Lesotho won’t even touch it after a day in the flowers.” I am well aware.

How did I make it to 22? Most days, I wonder that too. I have come to realize the first 18 years for I lived in a house with two gourmet chefs. Year 19 those same gourmet chefs paid a ridiculous amount for me to eat cereal and peanut butter on bagels out of the dining hall. Years 20-22 breakdown: I spent too much money at Moes, made/held onto friends that know how and enjoy cooking (& sharing!!!), and I inhaled processed goodness!

Major Problems: cooking for one, no refrigerator/freezer, no oven, no microwave, no processed food, no restaurants. I like a challenge. I haven’t given up yet.