Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Rainy day. Cold, drizzle, mud. The small gully we usually climb to gain access to the schoolyard was already a cascade of water and mud.

We had to wait several minutes at the beginning of the day because rain on metal roof makes conversation impossible.

Four or five teachers had already congregated in the tiny computer lab, very excited to get back on the keyboards. Sarah came and unlocked the computer chest. For those who know, these computers were all bought second hand in the States and then Maggie had them sent to the school. They are all Macintosh laptops. The oldest has a Power PC processor; the others are Duos running OS 10.5.8. There is no Microsoft Word, so we use TextEdit, and the only browser is Safari 4.0. I was a bit frustrated, but our “students” know nothing about computer obsolescence; they were ready to go.  I did manage to install Chrome on the computer Andrew was using. I will try to install it on others before we leave on Friday.

Noah gave them their objectives: Research something you are interested in, bring up an article on the Web, cut part of the article then paste it into TextEdit, then cut part of that and paste it onto an email and finally send the email to one of us. This took about an hour and a half except for Joverine.

Joverine’s name somehow fits her. She’s in her early or mid-twenties, hair pulled back into tight braids with an impish grin and flashing eyes that could signal trouble. That’s deceiving; she absolutely loves her job and loves to stop by and learn more computer skills. Joverine was trained a year earlier when Maggie was last here. She’s been playing on my MacBook Pro the last couple days. She and Sarah have the best computer skills of the whole faculty. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Joverine had found Facebook and was busy sending out friend requests. It’s hard to keep a young person off the computer once they’ve discovered Facebook. I’ve been friended.

The rain stayed for the whole morning turning the red clay schoolyard into a sloppy, ugly, mess. Small streams cut through the clay, forming a small lake by the cookhouse where a small child’s laundry hung on the line without hope.  Two older boys attacked a long log with axes, to make a fire for porridge that would be lunch to the children who could afford it.

Cathy worked with Kindergarten and P1 teachers who wanted to know what was meant by a long and short vowel. In their two years of teacher training they were never taught to teach reading in English, even though learning to read and write English is perhaps the most important objective of the curriculum. Of the 130 or so who enter p1, fewer than 20 enter secondary school (equivalent of grades 8-11). Those who want to be teachers take two years of teacher training after leaving 11^th grade. They receive a teaching certificate, but no degree. Jobs are scarce. Lweza teachers make between $35  and $125 per month.

The rain was still coming down at 1pm when the younger children were dismissed for the day. Cathy took a few of the k-p1 teachers back to the house for reading instruction. At least at the house they could hear what each other was saying.

Sarah is the school’s literacy teacher. I don’t think I’m being unreasonable in saying that she is one of the most astute instructors at the school. I wouldn’t call her proficient, but she has managed to train herself to perform rudimentary tasks on the computer. Someone brought her books about writing workshops. I took some time to explain what this meant. There are things she is interested in and some she might try, but I was careful not to be the outsider telling her she’s doing it all wrong or if she’d only do things differently, she would be much more effective. The fact is she and the other teachers are doing a remarkable job with what they have and what they don’t.

Maggie took a few of the computers to Kampala for repairs. The truth is they were used when she brought them two years ago, and they will not last forever. As more and more teachers learn to use them, they will wear out quickly. A select group of students will also begin using them within the next year. We need to find sources of workable used computers, preferably but not necessarily Macs that can be donated. And because of corruption that plagues much of Africa (and admittedly America too), we can’t merely send money. It’s not quite as bad as Blackwater, but it’s the same: money disappears.

I took great care to show teachers at Lweza pictures of both, my middle school students from UW’s summer program, and my undergraduates at Edgewood. They were genuinely surprised that so many of my students are Black. They want to know who Zanae is and how we know her. You could almost see the wheels turning. And I explain to them that we have abject poverty too. But in Uganda, we see what happens when there are no safety nets; no health care, no food stamps, no public works programs. Like many of our parents, the parents of these kids (those who have parents) want to work, but there is no work. These children have nothing. And they are hungry. Most of the older children are at school from 8 in the morning to 4 or even 6 in the afternoon with nothing to eat for that whole time. The water they drink comes directly from the rain on the roof to the “fresh” water reservoir. They are required to pay fees for their “free” public education. They must buy their own paper and pens as well as uniforms. But they have great respect for adults and each other. Teachers never raise their voices at the children who sit six to a desk/bench. Everyone is very gentle and inquisitive. Even and perhaps especially the teachers.

One of the most popular features of Google has been the “images” search. They want to look up “New York City” and when we click on “images” they can’t believe it’s real. They’re amazed to see pictures of snow.

But we’ve been just as amazed as they. We are only a few miles from the equator, but it is much hotter and drier in the Midwest. We do have electricity, even if they can’t keep it at a steady voltage and it cuts out every few hours. And we have eaten relatively well. There are no seconds and no sweets. And you don’t dare bring any water that’s not bottled anywhere near your mouth. But there is plenty of pineapple, bananas, and whatever fruit is in season. We are not hungry. We have no hot running water, but we can wash with soap. And never do we feel unsafe. Up on the highway, we have been stopped twice by the police. They do like to harass. But in the little community on this rugged path they call a road, everyone is kind.

And morning and evening came once more.

^ Students in uniforms on their way to class

Students walking home on the main road at the end of classes.