Keeping it all in Perspective

Back to school blues. One would think all that lying in bed on Monday and Tuesday would have me energized for today despite all of yesterdays travels. It didn’t. Five minutes into my walk to school my host mother’s driver picked me up and drove me 30 minutes of the walk. Sweet. I was extra early to school, in time for the morning beatings. Welcome back. I bonded with the night watchman until assembly, where I found out there was no formal school today. That is exactly what I wanted to hear! I love that about this country. It requires you to be incredibly flexible. You might be reading this and thinking to yourself you haven’t exactly been present at school that much this week. You might have been prepared for this had you shown up. Nope, you’re wrong. I promise you nothing is announced until it’s time for them happen, unless they require money and even then you get about a days notice. I am so fond of spontaneity. There is a list of 453 things that are going to annoy me when I get home, people trying to plan things is number three on the list.

Today, we would be going on a “fun walk” instead. That idea of a “fun walk” makes me laugh. The Basotho hate walking, probably because they walk so much. We walked five kilometers to the starting point where all the camptown schools gathered for a six kilometer walk to the playground (no swings, no slides, just a dirt track). Side note: thank goodness I got a ride to school today. My heart goes out to all those students that walked a minimum of two kilometers to school. When we finally arrived at the playground at half past 10 the “Education for All” program started, only two hours behind schedule. I missed the first part of the program because my school sent me home to gather my camera, another four kilometers logged. There were speeches, singing, dancing, and dramas galore when I returned. At one I called it a day, a spectacular day. I spent the majority of the time with middle sister and her best friend. Side note two: she has known her best friend for three years and today was the first time she has been to her house. At their age (well their school age, juniors) my best friend had practically moved into my parent’s house. We spent every waking moment together. It’s no wonder most of my students are suffering from a stress disease called hysteria (more on this later).

Following the “Education for All” program I met up with a closest girl volunteer and we enjoyed an American afternoon. We got a plate (French fries, spinach, and beets—lunch of champions) at the expensive store and went “shopping” in all the stores we have yet to explore. I managed to gather the remaining supplies for the shelves I am building while she picked up some things to prepare her for the winter (tights and blankets). We decided it would have been awesome if there were a book store where we could sip on coffee and browse through books. As an alternative we settled on a game of snooker and wine. I am back on top (assuming I make it through my first real four hour washing session tomorrow morning).

Hump Day

I arrived at school at my normal time, which was the only thing normal about my arrival. Everyone (the teachers, the night watchman, and the students) stopped in his or her tracks. They were so excited to see me. It was incredible, only uncomprehendable! I am just a white girl with a black dog. There is nothing amazing about me. I go to class and teach just like the rest of the teachers. I might act like a clown (climbing on desks, screaming song lyrics at the top of my lungs to get their attention, and dancing for my students like no one is watching), but I am not special. I’m me. I do what it takes to drive home points (whether it be calculating the area of irregular polygons or solubility) and I fight for causes I deem worthy.

Miraculously, despite being gone for a week there simply was not a lot of work for me to do on this particular day so I took the time to talk to my teachers. Generally I am pretty honest with them, not as honest as I was this day. One of my teachers wanted to know why I was here. I told him pointblank I wanted to go on an adventure but that lately I was unsure if I made the right decision.

This lead into a lengthy discussion on the wonders of America. It makes no sense for me to quit and go home, besides pure laziness. I have nothing to go home to. Trust me, I would kill to see friends and family, but there will always family and friends. And unless things get really bad I do not think chips and salsa are going anywhere. When I say I have nothing to go home to I mean I have not been accepted to grad school and I do not have a job lined up. I filled my teachers in on how much nannies, maids, and fast food workers make in America. I dropped a lot of American knowledge on them. We had quite an insightful discussion comparing and contrasting our countries.

Taking time to truly engage in conversation with my teachers made me realize I am trying to do too much. I literally teach and grade notebooks all day, even during my one-hour lunch break. I spend about an average of four minutes interacting with the teachers each day. A lot of times they get on my nerves because I feel like they have so much potential but are inhibited by their bad attitudes. Day after day I am there offering assistance, serving as a role model, observing their classes and N-O-T-H-I-N-G changes. I might only bond four minutes as day with my teachers on an average but I have good relationships with most of them (thanks to staff meetings, sports, and field trips) for four months in. I realize I have said this over and over on my blog but I am going to have to keep digging. Keep learning Sesotho, keep teaching English, crack them open, force them to think (and act on those thoughts) if I want anything to change.

I have spent hours, countless hours learning the names of each of my eight grade students, along with the number of children in their families, their favorite sport, and what village they are from (my school serves 50 plus villages, holy complicated names). This is time spent outside the classroom. I can definitely see the difference it has made in motivating my students, gaining their respect, and the overall performance in class. Wednesday continued to be an above average day because two of my three classes went well. I was warned the impact I made here I might never see. I did not think it would bother me until it was fraction of the tornado that hit me hard this week. A good number of days I still feel like I am filling a position and that is tough. One breath at a time, I’ll make it. On the outside looking in it might look like I am here to save the world, on the inside looking out it is a bumpy emotional voyage.

Africa Lite

One of my favorite teachers, ‘M’e A, is very concerned about how Americans perceive Lesotho. I have kindly informed her most Americans have never even heard of Lesotho and as a result they have no opinions on Lesotho. I have had discussions with her about how I am a bridge between America and Lesotho and explained part of why I am here is for the cultural exchange. Of course, she wants to know exactly what I tell all of you; the funny stories about school field trips, the tales of my very pregnant dog and me, the way the school works, and general information about my family. All this pleased her, however, she wants me to encourage you not to undermine Lesotho. This is where cultures collide.

In a lot of ways, ‘M’e A is right, “Lesotho is moving up.” When I signed up for Peace Corps I never dreamed I would have electricity, internet every week or so, or a phone that allows me to talk to those back home. My school has running water and a toilet. They have electricity and the set up for gas (sadly, no gas) in the science lab. I had no idea how easy it would be to find granny smith apples and a variety of at least two other fruits and vegetables, depending on the season. There are gravel roads being paved every time I turn my head. A few families in my village even have satellite dishes and TVs. This country has more than one would expect (or at least I expected) from a third world forgotten African country.

Now you are probably wondering why life is so tough. After adjusting, general living is not so bad. (I am still quite thankful it is only temporary!) I might spend a good portion of my day cooking food that could be made instantly with processed American goodness, the entire weekend washing clothes by hand, pass urine in a bucket after dark, gather water from a very unreliable tap a 100 meters from my house, and rely on public transportation (or my own two feet) to get from point A to B. I’ve determined the living is not what makes life rough.

Is Lesotho moving up? No and Yes. Volunteer me often wonders why I am here. I hate to report that I there is very little hope for this country. That sounds pessimistic and awful, it’s honest. Everything (education, health, politics, the environment, foreign aid) seems to operate on a one step forward nine steps backwards pattern. The country just can’t seem to catch a break! My own host organization (Peace Corps) has been here for over 40 years and nothing has changed. Sure we all influence one or two people throughout our service. I have definitely mastered the village friend role, for the idealist “changing” one (two, three, or four) people is not enough.

Education definitely plays a large role in the future success of any country. When your education system is failing your country is failing. To a degree this is happening in America right now. Their high school diploma is only valid in their own country as South African universities view their education worthless. Families might have satellite dishes and TVs even though their children do not get fed at night. I want to remain positive but it’s hard for me to negate the facts and statistics against this country: Lesotho now has the lowest life expectancy (yay, new discouraging statistics!), the highest HIV/AIDS rate (recently surpassing Botswana), AND Lesotho is the only country with a rising HIV/AIDS rate in the world. It’s the general hopelessness for this country and my inability to help out that makes living here a challenge.

When material possessions (clothes, cars, cell phones) are the only things that determine your status in the world then Lesotho is moving up. I remember pre-departure being extremely excited about escaping materialistic America. We might take materialism to the extreme in America; sadly I have discovered “wanting/needing” materials must be human instinct. There is a lot of heart here, there is a lot of good here, and there are plenty who are trying to improve the country. People are generally happy and full of life. I continue to learn so much by living among the Basotho and anticipate coming home to America taking life in stride the way Basotho do, even when everything seems to be working against me. Some days are easy, others are hard. On occasion I make progress on one of my projects, most days I am holding on for dear life.

Don't all jump at once!

Thanks to an awesome program I have the chance to help sponsor five children at my school. That’s great, isn’t it? In theory it is! Unfortunately my school is road blocking the endeavor. On March 10th I found out about the Tuition Assistance Program and immediately informed my counterpart and supervisor. They both seemed as eager and interested as I was. Well here it is May 5th and absolutely nothing has been done despite my asking for school records every single day since March 10th (minus March 21 through April 7th while I was away). The applications are due May 7th and when I informed my counterpart today that I was not going to be able to sponsor the students he seemed surprised and told me not to give up. Had I not been totally annoyed I might have believed that there was a way we could still get these applications completed and down to Maseru by four on Friday.

It’s so frustrating because I know there are way more than five children at my school who could use the support. If these grants covered tuition maybe there would be money for them to eat. I feel like my school basically turned away free money. The students were going to be responsible for everything on the application. ALL someone at my school had to do was open a filing cabinet and determine which “needy” student finished in the top 33% percent of their class in the 2009 fiscal year. How hard could that have possible been? No matter how disorganized the cabinet was I can’t imagine this task would have taken longer than an hour. Normally I have nothing except positive things to say about the Basotho, not today. The laziness put me in a sour mood. I can only do so much or nothing at all without any assistance.

Sports Weekend

I do not know why I still insist on showing up on time. Maybe it has something to do with they fact I spent 22 years in America prior to the five months I have been here in Lesotho. Even more unbelievable than the fact I am still on time for everything is the fact I agreed to accompany the school on another field trip. There is no way more could go wrong on this trip, despite the reality that this one would be four times longer. I am becoming an eternal optimist. Insert chuckle here.

We packed our bags and by that I mean I packed my school backpack while each student who was going packed more than I brought to Lesotho. Incredible! I was in awe of how much they needed for this four-day adventure, but how little they need on a daily basis. It can’t be explained.

I will stop pretending to be a fantastic volunteer and clue you in on the real reason I chose to attend sports weekend. I was going to get to spend four days with T.C.M. as his school was hosting the event. Forget him, I really just wanted to take advantage of his running HOT water (kidding, sort of). My students, all 240 who could afford to go, and teachers were planning on staying at the high school. Have I mentioned it’s freezing? That did not sound appeasing at all. I will never be half as hard-core as them… and slowly I am coming to terms with it.

There I was at three in the afternoon sitting alone outside school with Spads (she has a lot of nerve) waiting for others. At four, departure time, they (the students and teachers) started strolling in. By five the kombis had arrived and around six we determined an additional kombi would be needed for stuff alone. Half past six (the time T.C.M. was expecting me) we were on the road. I thought to my phoneless self, this is going to be quite interesting. In spite of the fact my kombi driver was drinking for the last half of the trip we made it safely to Katse around nine. T.C.M. was waiting for me with J.W.M. (another volunteer) at the local bar. I must tell you the bar was well placed, eyesight of the bus stop. We hung out and played a few rounds of snooker (alternative pool) before hitting the sack.

Thursday I got up and went for a run while the boys kept sleeping. Then I took the hottest bath of my life. I wish I had words to describe what this felt like. Those of you with running water probably understand, five months and I have clearly forgotten. The boys prepared breakfast with Starbucks coffee (oh America), and as always, their food was delicious! Sports were supposed to start at nine sharp but things were just getting underway when we rolled in at 11AM.

Throughout Thursday and Friday I spent a lot less time watching sports than I intended. T.C.M.’s couch, reliable electricity (movies and tv shows on laptops galore), running HOT water (in case you missed it the first time), and the companionship of other Americans made sports less then appealing (for the first time in my life). The afternoon on Thursday and late afternoon Friday and I had about all the unorganized chaos I could handle. Similar to the last field trip I really just enjoyed being around my students out of the school atmosphere despite the commotion. I take pleasure in watching them engage in sports on the field, hanging out with their friends, and watching them be teenagers (sneaking in the bar or off to smoke, ha).

We made an executive decision to leave Katse on Saturday morning for Bobete to catch the district going away party for O.L.S., who completes his service May 8th. This is not before T.C.M. and I hosted a brai for all of our teachers who attended sports day. T.C.M. goes all out for everything so, of course, the boys insisted on slaughtering a sheep on Thursday night for the occasion Friday. For those of you counting that’s four sheep for me, and no, slaughtering does not get easier with time. Meat is a rarity for Basotho subsequently our teachers indulged themselves. I can’t tell you how much entertaining it was to hang out with my teachers outside of school and away from the students. The school is as a result rural we are all spread out, translation, I never see them on the weekends. We danced, sang, spoke broken Sesotho, drank, and ate the night away. At 2:30 AM T.C.M. and I were forcing them out of the house!

We would have ended the party a lot earlier had we known knocking on the door was going to wake us up at 6:00 AM (sharp). Not cool. We lounged around in bed and finally decided to get up and start cleaning (oh there was so much cleaning to be done) around eight. After cleaning we hit the road. A lot a bit of walking, the best hitch ever, and a kombi ride later we made it to O.L.S. around five with empty stomachs. Turns out, O.L.S. had no gas at his place, meaning no food. I suppose that is what I have to look forward to at the end of my service. Liquid diet fae-la (only) Saturday night. Another extremely late (3:30 AM) bed time and up the next day at seven to catch the 7:30 bus out of town. With 32 Maluti between J.W.M. and I for a ride that cost 40 Maluti total we managed to make it back to Thaba Tseka in one piece. I’ll consider that a discount thanks to a broken ATM (the only ATM in the entire district). It was a whirlwind long weekend and I definitely paid for it today but if I could do it again I would, without hesitation.

Tell us about your mother!

I occasional throw informal America days. Basically this means nothing significant is going on at my school so I take advantage of the time to go hang out with my students. We pass the time with rapid-fire questions. They ask me about America and I reciprocate with questions about Lesotho. The only problem is they are not great as asking me questions, instead they usually say “tell me about ________.” This makes it difficult for me as they usually pick broad topics leaving me pick a sub-topic. Plus our language barrier requires me to brainstorm an explanation basic enough for them to understand me.

Today it was tell us about your mother. Coincidentally as I was walking to school today I thought about how much my mom would love this country because there are absolutely no birds flying obnoxiously around. I proceeded to tell them about my moms hatred of birds and my conclusion she would is going to love Lesotho. They insisted there are birds here (like I had offended them). I apologized profusely and explained I had not seen any. Then it all came out. “Oh madame, you can’t see them. They are in our stomachs.” Baffled, I was unsure how to respond. They proceeded to explain (and instruct) if I ever see one I am supposed to call them (oh that will be easy since we all have phones!). Apparently they stone and eat the birds they see. Not apparently, a few days later I had a dead bird (we are talking about sparrow type birds) waiting for me on my desk thanks to my students. In class they apologized for the delay and told me when requesting a “deck-dancy (delicacy)” I need to be patient. I never requested anything, especially a dead bird and I am confident I offended them when I refused to take part in the feast. Being the clever students they are they flipped it on me. Clearly I talk about nutrition too much in math seeing that they insisted I should eat the bird for protein. Riiiiiiight, I think I will stick to my eggs and safer subjects too.

What is brown and sticky?

I was having a complete off week. Vacation definitely got me out of the swing of things and I have still not fully recovered. I was more forgetful (example: I thought it was Wednesday and completely missed one of my classes because turns out it’s Friday), I had zero control of my classes (that’s pretty standard though), and I apparently can’t teach (or do simple math, seven times six will never be 48). After missing science (oh darn) I stopped in the middle of my next class and cracked a joke, one of my Popsicle stick favorites. I do not expect my students to laugh. They never do. I tell the jokes to make myself laugh. Their English is nowhere near the level it would have to be for them to understand any of the jokes. As if my (stolen) jokes were not funny enough, part of what makes them even more funny is watching how blank my students look when I tell them. They stare at me laughing in utter confusion, again I recite the jokes for me. Then I pick up the lesson right where I left off and they are even more perplexed.

Today was different. One of my students laughed at my joke. I am confident she did not understand the joke. It did not matter, echoes of her laughter turned the whole day around. For the record, maybe I am not funny. I have only found very few Americans who appreciate those jokes the way I do.

While my students may not be in to Popsicle stick jokes the way I am, they dig analogies. They make them up all the time (or use ones I have never heard of) whenever an opportunity to presents itself. Earlier this week my class of 71 was completely silent for all of five seconds, long enough for one of my students to shout out, “madame, we are smoky monkeys!” I was at a loss for words. I started laughing because that is what I do when things do not make sense. The amount of bellyaching laughing I do here is one of the greatest benefits of living in Lesotho. He kept repeating himself, obviously frustrated with my unconcern. After way more than necessary explanation (which is usually protocol in these situations) it clicked, my students were confused. Reading this you are probably able to distinguish exactly what a smoky money is. Please understand my laughing started an uproar of 71 (average age 15 year olds) shouting explanations in accents that are extremely difficult to decipher.

I may not teach a lot. Actually I teach a lot. My students may not understand enough to learn
any concepts in eight-grade math. On the other hand we have a LOT of fun. My students are a riot and incredible for my ego.

Answer: A Stick

Still Standing

Purposely omitted from my description of the track meet was the stoning event that took place between my high school and the near by high school (after my high school kept whippin’ up on them). In all honesty I could not tell one school from the next therefore I have no idea who technically won (the track meet or the stoning). I realize stoning people at your track meet (more importantly being stoned) makes you and the track meet even more hardcore, but hurting others isn’t a way to earn yourself into my hardcore record books. My students have been pelting dogs and birds with stones since they could walk. They are accurate and have a tremendous amount of power, especially when aiming at much slower, larger targets. After a week of talking about the “event” (as we call it at school) I can’t go without filling you in.

The stoning officially comes to an end today. How was this conclusion reached? Standing up, that is for sure. The meeting begun with cultural song and prayer, followed by introductions (all the teachers at my high school and the rival high school, both principals, the equivalent of a district superintendent, the police chief, and two other police officers), and an apology to me that this meeting would be conducted in Sesotho to make sure all points were clear. Ho-lo kee-lae! (It’s okay!) Before the Sesotho started the superintendent told us that is was our responsibility as teachers “to save these children from their animalistic ways.” Insert unnoticeable laugh here. The discussion was off. One hour in I decide it is okay to pull out my book, two hours in I decided it was okay to use the bathroom, three hours in I decided it was okay to write a letter, four hours I decided it was okay to take a five minute walk. Four hours AND forty-two minutes later the verdict: stoning will not be tolerated anywhere anymore. I have no idea what was said during the meeting. I’ll ask tomorrow. It is amazing how much you can learn from observing though. In the beginning it was rival high school standing on one side and my high school on the other (eying each other down, putting our game faces on, the site could have been easily mistakable for pre-battle). I laughed when others were laughing, and I looked up when select words were spoken in English. The best part of the meeting was the closure. Post battle we were all holding hands in one big circle, rotating my high school, rival school, my high school, rival school. Touching. As we all held hands a teacher from the rival high school made an analogy to the coronary artery. He said (in ENGLISH!!!), “holding hands in one circle with no ends symbolizes the coronary artery. The coronary artery supplies the heart and if there is a break in the coronary artery the heart can’t beat.” I could not have put it better myself. Effort was noted. This quote was followed by a singing of kumbiya or a more local anthem (sung in English!!!): “If you and I believe, Africa will be saved. The Holy Spirit will come down and Africa will be saved.” Repeat three times.

Test 2 Frustrations

My first test frustrations dealt with my math classes. This was my second test in my science class, and I think my questions and the answers I received will be enough to suffice. I also included the number of students who wrote the answer (exactly as written here), my class has 62 students total.
Question: Name two ways to avoid AIDS.
Answer: We should protect our hands when helping a blinding person and not using one eraser blade. (11 students)
Commentary: (Translation: blinding equals bleeding and eraser equals razor!) I gave credit for this(???). We talked about AIDS for four periods spanning 160 minutes. AIDS is predicted to kill everyone in Lesotho by 2045. D-e-p-r-e-s-s-i-n-g! There is denial, lack of education, and the cultural right to promiscuity.
Question: Name the three body regions of the insect.
Answer one: Butterfly, Bee, Housefly (32 students)
Commentary one: I have NOT mentioned butterflies OR bees in class. Houseflies were discussed as an example of a vector for disease! I spent 40 minutes drawing, discussing, and lecturing about the body regions of insects. We colored insects and labeled the parts.
Answer two: Head, UPdomen, ________ (six students),
Commentary Two: These six students were closer to the four who actually got it right. The answer I was looking for was head, abdomen (code for updomen), and thorax. What is the point of learning English if you do not understand what the words mean?
Question: Name two of the seven characteristics of life.
Answer: die, evaporation (26 students)
Commentary: I guess I drink far to much water to experience evaporation.
Question: What is a conifer?
Answer: A conifer is an animal that eat both plant and meat. (16 students)
Commentary: That would be a omnivore, a topic we have not broached.
Question: What FOOD group is the main source of energy?
Answer: The sun (41 students)
Commentary: What does the sun taste like? Remember that beautiful nutrition lesson plan that took me so long to cover. Point.less.
Question: Name two of the five pathogens.
Answer: Scavengers and Prey
Commentary: No comment
Question: What group of arthropods live in water?
Answer: grab
Commentary: (Translation: grab equals crab)! Much to my dismay I also gave credit for this. The answer was crustaceans and not a single person got this right. I figured a “grab” was a type of crustacean so this deserved full marks.

Shocking, I could not go without my commentary being voiced. After this test I learned ALL 62 of the B3 students are repeaters. They are technically in their third year of high school explaining why their English is significantly better(!!!) than my eight grade classes. Despite my attempts at lecturing, classwork, homework, student presentations, outside activities they still look and claim to be bored in class. Can’t you tell, they have already “learned” the material? It does not help that I am adamantly opposed (slash not allowed) to beat so they have no problem chatting away and throwing paper planes in class.

I love surviving here. Think about it. How cool is it that I get to spend two plus years living in a country the postal workers do not even know about (with scenery in the picture above)? I am living in “a spec on the map” (according to my host mother). Although I would argue aren’t we all. What makes your spec better than mine, Moe’s excluded? Work is tough. As soon as I consider myself to be making progress all of my effort is blown away, by I this case, a test. There is no educational foundation, students do not understand concepts (they want to memorize without studying), their English is atrocious, and I feel less than supported. No one told me if would be easy. I did not know that meant it would be worthless.

Class Pictures

My school from the top of the hill my house sits on, zoomed in 24 times:

I wanted to take pictures of all my classes one to show you three things:
1. How humongous each class is. 2. To better explain the sweet location of my school, and 3. So you could check out their rocking awesome uniforms. In addition to what I wanted to show you I gave each class the option of choosing where they wanted to be photographed. A2 wanted to show you the Lesotho flag, A3 wanted to show you the river valley down the mountain from our school, and B3 wanted to show you how the teachers live. The few B3 boys also wanted to show you the school donkey.

A2 (one of my eight grade math classes): This class definitely wins the award for trying the hardest each and every day. They always do their “level best” (which I assume means very best)! They are constantly begging me to assign them more homework. Strange, yet refreshing… students that come to school because they want to learn (or because otherwise they might die of boredom). If we could get the basic foundation America students have and the effort of the Basotho students I imagine we (the United States) could rival some of those other developed nations. They prefer to work individually to groups, a movement I am completely opposed to (but since when does my opinion matter?). Call me lazy. I do not feel the need to defend myself but I am going to anyways. I will say it 10,000 times: There are 66 of them and only ONE of me. If only there were more me (plural, can me be plural?). In a classroom where you can hardly move down the isles it is a lot easier to reach 11 groups of six. I realize I told you never to trust me but take my word on this and sending mail. This goes without mentioning, I have about ten students in this class that “get it” so it really helps them when they work in groups and explain it to their classmates. I can say it four different ways and work 99 problems on the board but sometimes it is just better to have a peer explain it. Not to mention their English is not great so a lot of what I say (despite clearly writing it on the board) goes in one ear and out the other. In many ways this place really is no different from America, most of my education went in one ear and out the other (which I realized the other day when I could remember how to draw an Iodine ion on the board properly showing all electrons).
A3 (another eight grade math class): This is my favorite class by a landslide. They are hysterical, an absolute riot. If it were not for them I probably would have quit teaching long ago. We have bonded. We get each other. We know how to make it work without making either parties life miserable. I need them to show my other two classes how to have fun while learning.
B3 (my ninth grade science class): This class brings me down to new lows, each day worse than the day before. Most of what I need to say about them can be explained in the post titled “Test 2 Frustrations.” I am sad to inform you picture day was also “hair check” day, which hit the B3s hard. Half of this class was sent home from school because their hair was too long. Two millimeters of hair is two millimeters too much. Out of about 550 students at the school slightly over 100 were sent home. From the pool of 100 there were 30 from the B3 class. My other source of relief (besides A3) is knowing the B3s are not just trouble for me!

Track Meet

Saturday I went to the district track meet with my school where the biggest lesson I learned is that I am not hardcore. Being hardcore has been my number one goal most of my life and Saturday all those dreams were shattered. I did not even know my school had a “track team” until the day before the district finals. You guessed it, that means no practice. The debatably 400 meter track had two mild inclines and was dirt smeared with shards of glass. My students ran barefoot! The girls ran in skirts with no sports bras. They were not allowed to eat or drink water until after they finished ALL their events because it makes you run faster. Learn something new everyday. Better than that, they each had to eat ONE TABLESPOON of SALT because as it was explained “it keeps the water in you.” Why yes, salt does make you retain water… but that is NOT a good thing. Each student ran multiple events, meaning the distance runners ran the 800, 1600, 3200, and 5000 meters all in the SAME day. That is six and a half miles of racing for those less familiar with track lingo or wiling to do the conversions. And some of these events are back to back, organization is at it finest in this country. Probably the funniest part of the whole event is the runners walk off the track after the first three runners cross the finish line. It’s hysterical! Quit if you are not the best (or top three), another fabulous lesson learned. For those keeping tabs, you’re right, technically very few actually finish all the events. Regardless they are still hardcore in my mind.
Sold, another project for the to-do list! Now that I know my school has a “track team” or students interested in running I am totally on board. At next years district meet we are going to rock, or at least have some new tips for healthier, faster running. Running was a huge part of my high school experience. In fact, it was the only thing that made high school bearable. Perhaps, I can share my joy for running and high school sports with my students. For selfish reasons it will also allow me to get some running done. I have been unable to run around my hut because all the Basotho throw rocks at me. They are not trying to be vicious and they don’t try to actually hit me (although I have been pelted a few times). They simply are trying to get my attention. Remember that whole greet everyone well it is really hard to get a run in when you are stopping every 100 meters to greet someone. Back to my new track team, To get me started, I know of this great organization in Colorado who collects old running shoes. I am not sure what they do with them, but I think donating them to Lesotho is a good idea. As soon as I find a way to make this donation sustainable I am contacting them (shouldn’t be a challenge with all my access to phones and internet). I want them to do well not only next year but also they year after and the year after that and forever after I am gone.

Sound Advice

My freshman science class does not like to listen or learn. I refuse to beat them so they are smart enough to realize there are very few consequences for their actions. How do you manage a class of 62 students ranging in age from 14 to 36? I finally got fed up with them today. The assignment: Write half a page on why you think it is okay to disrespect your teacher and classmates and how you are going to change your behavior so everyone has a fair chance to teach and learn.

One students response (exactly like it was written, with my commentary in italics):

Madame, I am very sorry to tell you that you handwriting is not good (there is a first time for everything), so you should try to write clear words (sometimes it is as easy a dotting the i’s, problem solved). And I do not hear some words when you are calling them (well, that is because YOU are talking). That is not to say I am making noise in the class no, some are making noise not all of us (I guess placing blame on others is a global trend). I did not understand some of topics you did with us because when you are teaching you are making noise (I am not sure how I am supposed to teach without making noise), so “PLEASE” try do explain again. My dear teacher (such a charmer). You should not write like you write poems (goodbye bullets), make long sentences (hello even slower motion). (I definitely appreciate the advice, unfortunately this was DEFINITELY NOT the assignment. Whenever students do not want to do my assignments, they make up their own. This way science, but especially in math. They change fractions to whole numbers, negative numbers to positive one, and division signs to multiplication. Makes grading a real blast!)

Classic.

Field Trip Fiasco

The pounding on my door woke me up at 2:00 AM. Thank goodness because I am not sure the six alarms I had set were going to cut it. By 2:30 AM we (middle sister and I) were riding IN A CAR to school. The walk takes 45 minutes, the drive takes 20. Yes, the roads are that bad. I am not sure why I bothered being punctual, probably has to do with the fact I am an American. When I showed up there were two kombis (vans), we needed ten to leave. By 3:53 AM we were cruising, taking bathroom breaks galore. At 7:00 AM the caravan of ten kombis halted, kombi “No Fear” lost a wheel. All the kombis in this country have hysterical names. After watching nine bo-ntate (grown men) struggle for 45 minutes to change a tire I stepped in. I realize this was a radical move. I am a woman. I changed that tire and we were on our way. You’re shocked? I was too. Who knew I could change a tire? I didn’t, but a little determination goes a long way.

Back on the road at 8:00 AM with a tremendous amount of additional bathroom breaks. Surely we are getting close I thought to myself at 11:30 AM as we sat and waited and sat and waited on the side of the road for kombi “Haho Tatoe” who got lodged into the dirt “road” going down a steep rocky descent. This time the bo-ntate strategically placed several rocks allowing the “Haho Tatoe” to gas itself out of the ditch. Watching this process occur was truly remarkable.
Rocking and rolling at 12:15 PM and safely at our destination at 1:00 PM. I immediately jump out of the kombi and start examining my surroundings. My first observation: all my students are frozen in position in the kombis. Apparently they were too tired to move. I convinced them we did not drive all that way for nothing. We walked down to the “caves” where I proceeded to take 150 individual pictures of my students. Bringing a camera out in public, mistake number 802 I have made in Lesotho. I spent the entire time photographing them and no time looking at the “caves” or the incredible surroundings. And when I thought I was done, my teachers wanted all of their pictures taken… individually.


A camera battery later the teachers (myself guiltily included) were scaling (in the kombis) up the same mountain “HaHo Tatoe” got lodged in coming down. My students were forced to climb up the mountain, apparently they are the reason we got stuck in the first place. After the students finished their hour climb straight up we were movin’ and grovin’ towards our final destination, my bed. Exactly an hour later kombi “More Fire” was coincidently/ironically (R.D.S. I know this is pet peeve #46 but I am not sure which one I am supposed to use, circle the proper word choice now) on fire. We pull over, they evacuate the vehicle, and the front seats are lifted to reveal a burning engine. Smoke fills the air, students disperse in panic, I laugh, the driver cries. There is nothing we can do but practice our patience. FOUR HOURS later we are on the road, kombi “More Fire” is left behind. Now, our kombis meant for 16 passengers are stuffed with 21 passengers. Oh comfort! FOUR MINUTES later we see a KFC and my teachers decide it would be appropriate to take all 150 plus students in. My students had never been to the capital of their country. The concept and taste of KFC was simply mind-boggling.
It is now about 10:36 PM and everyone is loaded back up and we are on the road for approximately two minutes when the driver decides we need petrol, a brief (when compared to other events of the day) 25 minute stop. Now that is shortly after 11:00 PM we are on the road. We chug up and up and up some more. I live way up in the mountains. We do not stop to go to the bathroom; we simply drive UNTIL 3:30 AM when we see a truck jack-knifed into the guardrail preventing vehicles from flying off the mountain. I am still wide-awake! I have a student head asleep on each of my shoulders and another head in my lap. Both the driver and passenger were okay, but their truck definitely was not. The picture shows the truck after we removed it from the guardrail. Since the Basotho are such incredible people all nine kombis stop and help dislodge the truck from the guardrail. Picture 16 people bouncing this truck with all their might until they can pry it loose. The whole process took an hour. Nonstop fascination, pictures (you will never see) galore! We arrive safely at school at 5:30 AM at which point I reunite with my sister for our 45 minute journey home. I am home for approximately 30 minutes when a few volunteers knock on my door, ready for the hike we had been planning for weeks. Sleep or hike? I think you all know what I choose, and it does not require a pillow.
This day does not sound like a blast to you, and it wasn’t exactly a blast for me either. But if you asked me to do it over again, I would say yes in a heartbeat. I became closer to several of my students and even better I got to see my students act like kids—hanging out of the kombi windows, screaming/singing/chanting at the top of their lungs, and laughing with their friends. The way my students act at school I often times feel like I am a military instructor. It was simply refreshing to seem them have fun. The days events were so absurd you have to laugh, otherwise you might cry. In America the amount of time we spent in the car is equal to that of a trip from Clemson, SC to Baltimore, MD and back. Instead we never left a country the size of the state MD. This is Lesotho public transportation. If you do not believe me, come visit and see for yourself.

Gearing Up

Here I sit, it’s 5PM and in 9.5 hours I am leaving for a field trip with my school.
Last Thursday in a staff meeting I was asked if I would like to accompany the school on a field trip. “Sure, when?” Their response, “FriDAY.” All I know about the field trip is what time we are supposedly leaving and coming home and the name of where we are going (no idea how far away it is or where it is actually located). Leaving at 3AM is technically Friday, and returning at 10PM is also technically still Friday. Not what I had in mind, but I am here for new experiences. It also means I had to find transportation to the school because there was no way I was walking 45 minutes in the pitch black to my school. My students spent the night at school, but I was not really up for that since none of the other teachers were going to be there I mentioned my host mother is incredible. She is having her driver wake up and take me to school at 2:30AM. I am here to help and I feel like there is no way to ever repay them for all the favors they do for me.

I am trying to go in with a positive attitude, but public transportation in this country is usually a nightmare so I am preparing for the worst. I am preparing myself to be incredibly patient, understanding, and embrace my surroundings. I just finished a session of yoga and meditation (no lie, what is this country doing to me?). I am going to bed around 7PM to catch a few hours of sleep before a long day. I will be back into report soon!

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.

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.

Nutrition Lesson Plan

Here is an idea of my freshman science lesson plan on nutrition to give you an idea of how basic things are and how slow we have to move. This lesson plan took seven periods to cover or 280 minutes. Some of this information presented may not be accurate, but this is what they are tested on so this is what I am teaching. I especially like this lesson plan because as sad as this sounds, basically all food (healthy and unhealthy) can be placed in your balanced diet. My lesson plan could not be typed without commentary! Smile.

Animal Nutrition (also called animal feeding, really?)

There are three (that’s it?) classes of food

1. Carbohydrates:
1. Importance: good source of energy, one gram of carbohydrates releases 17 kj of energy in the body
2. Sources: Jam (ha), cookies (ha, ha), cakes (ha, ha, ha), potatoes, maize bread, rice, cereal (I presented them in that order. I know cookies and cakes are carbs, however, are they good sources of carbs? Are there cookies and cakes in this country? If yes, where?)
3. Elements: Carbon, Hydrogen, Oxygen

i. Element: is a substance which is only made up of one type of atom

2. Proteins
1. Importance: they make new cells and repair damaged cells, body building foods, make antibodies and enzymes
2. Sources: meat, fish, eggs, milk, cheese, beans, wheat(?), maize
3. Elements: Carbon, Hydrogen, Oxygen, Nitrogen
3. Fats
1. Importance: good source of (good? I think more along the lines of quick or temporary) energy, keeps heat inside the body, insulates against the cold
2. Sources: meat, milk, cheese, butter, egg, yolk, plant fat (sunflower oil) (note: jams, cookies, and cakes are not considered fat)
3. Elements: Carbon, Oxygen, Hydrogen

In addition to the three classes of food, diet must also include minerals, vitamins, water, and fibre (Welcome to British English land)

Vitamins: protective food, they help our bodies fight disease	Food Sources	Function
A (Retinol)	Liver, eggs, oranges, green vegetables, carrots	Necessary for good eye sight, especially at night
C (Ascorbic Acid)	Fresh fruits and vegetables, particularly citrus fruits	Prevents scurvy, bleeding gums, and helps wounds heal fast
D (Calciferol)	Liver, egg yolk, butter (maybe if you can find it fortified?)	Helps body absorb calcium for strong bones and teeth

Minerals: keep body healthy, come from the soil, green plants are sources	Food Source Animal Plant		Functions
Calcium	Milk & other dairy products	Green leafy vegetables	Prevents rickets in children & osteomalaria (not even sure what this is or if it is spelled right) in adults by helping building strong bones and teeth
Iron	Meat, liver, egg yolk	Peas, beans, peanuts	Help blood to carry oxygen, prevents anemia

• Water: the body is made up of 70% water
• Importance: transports substances in blood, sweat, urine; water is lost from the body by breathing, sweating, urinating
• Sweating: cools the body when it overheats in sweat salts
• Urine: water helps remove waste from the body (urea)
• Blood: helps transports materials around the body (food)
• Sources: water (imagine that), juice, food
• Elements: Hydrogen, Oxygen
• Fibre (roughage): not digested but is important in keeping food moving in the gut (digestive system) this prevents constipation (difficulty passing feces)
• Sources: fruits, vegetables, beans, samp, bran
• Balanced Diet: diet that contains all nutrients in correct proportions and the right quality. Needs to contain carbs, proteins, fats, vitamins, minerals
• Water and Fibre are not nutrients, still essential part of diet
• Malnutrition: poor eating, diseases caused by poor nutrition, can result from under feeding or overfeeding
• Overfeeding

1. Obesity: a condition where the body stores excess food it does not need & becomes too big (too much fat leads to obesity)

• Underfeeding

1. Marasums: caused by lack of food in general (little carbs, protein, fats)

2. Kwashiokori: caused by lack of protein in the body

For those of you who did not get too bored and made it to the end, I am really not a horrible volunteer. We scheme (do not get me started), lesson plan, and write the test together as freshman science teachers. I make sure to cover the general lesson plan because the test are “standardized” to the entire freshman class. Normally, I try to jazz it up a little. In the case of this lesson plan, I did not know I was teaching freshman science until the Monday I started. I am more than thankful I was even given a lesson plan.