Teaching in Africa

A new school year started on January 21, and thus began a new year of teaching kids Agriculture and HIV Life Skills here in Lesotho. I feel more confident this year as a teacher. My first few months as a Peace Corps volunteer and teacher in my village had a big learning curve. I spent a lot of time being frustrated, confused, angry and annoyed with the Lesotho education system and the teachers that I work with. I was also still grasping the cultural differences in learning and teaching here in Lesotho.

Although I still get frustrated, I have a better understanding of how things work here, with the limited resources available. I can go into a classroom and feel like some students understand me now. At first they would all sit there and give me a confused look. It took me a few weeks to slow my voice down so they can understand me. All schools are English medium, so I speak in English (Sehua) to my students but my accent is difficult for them to understand. I live in the remote mountains so my students only exposure to English is at school. Many of the teachers at my schools English is really poor, and often they resort to Sesotho. It's important for students to understand the concepts, but at the end of the year their only examination that "counts" is a multiple choice exam administered by the Ministry of Education and it's all in English. If they don't understand English, then they don't pass their exam.

I teach at several different schools. Here's a few "stats" on my schools & Lesotho Education System.

* My largest school is the Primary School that's only a 20 minute walk from my village, other schools are 1-2 hours away.

*At the primary schools I teach Classes 5,6 & 7. At the Secondary School I teach Form C.

*My classes sizes vary from 9 students - 76 students - depending on the school and class.

*In one of my classes at the primary school, the age range of my students is 11-24 years.

* 1 out of 5 schools has toilets (pit latrines) for the students

* All of my schools have a garden

* Most of my classrooms are cement block walls with corrugated tin roofs. I have a few classrooms that are mud & stone walls with tin or grass roofs.

* Teachers in Lesotho only have to graduate high school to work as a teacher

* Teachers make about 21,000 R ($3,000) a year

* It's estimated that 1/3 of school age children are not in school

* Many schools are controlled by churches - makes it difficult to teach Sex Ed / HIV life skills.

* Some of my students travel as far as 5 miles to come to school

* Only a few of my students from the Primary school will actually go to Secondary and less to High School.

* Many of my Primary School students drop out of school to get married (girls - ages 14+ & boys)

* All students are required to wear a uniform (but many can't afford it) They can come to school still, but sometimes get beat across the back of the legs or the tops of their hands for not wearing a uniform.

* Corporal Punishment is the preffered method of punishment of students.

Some days I get so frustrated with how things operate here. It's all part of being a Peace Corps Volunteer, I know no "big" changes will occur while I'm here, I'm in a developing country and I must be patient and work with what we have at the school. I'm doing my best to help the students have some fun, learn some important life skills. I also work with teachers on lesson plans and helping them do fun activities with students.

Change is slowly coming here, the education systems has faced a lot of challenges after the Primary education was changed to Free. Class sizes doubled in some schools and there isn't enough space or teachers to teach. Also, the impact of HIV & AIDS has impacted all sectors of this government, lack of teachers, many orphans etc. There are a lot of unexperienced teachers all over the country, trying to do the best they can. There are also some amazing teachers working in the schools that want to see change. There is hope, but it's slow in coming.

But, Like the Sesotho Proverb, Ho bea ditho ho hlahisa kgomo. (Patience is a virtue.)

Running From Lightning

It’s summer here in Lesotho. It’s difficult to imagine the fresh powder and snow in the mountains of Idaho. During the rainy season the weather is typically predictable. In the mornings we awake to amazing sunrises, the sky full of pastel clouds and soft green light on the mountain slopes. A cool mist rolls through the river valleys as the herd boys take their flocks of sheep and cows to the field and women carry buckets of water from the spring. The hot summer sun will shine through a clear blue sky, until the dark thunderheads roll in around noon. For a few hours the sky turns dark, the rain pours and lighting flashes all around. The thunder sounds like gun shots then freight trains racing through the ground and through the grass roof of my hut. It scares me, but it’s exciting and makes me feel alive. It typically clears around 4pm and I sit outside my hut enjoying the fresh smell of rain and the beautiful rainbows that connect the canyon ridges. As the sun sets I watch the sky turn a kaleidoscope of oranges, blues, purples, grays and reds. I’ve never seen such amazing sunsets and have had my breath taken away many times by the beauty of it all.

This is “typical” weather for the rainy season/summer. But…I live in the mountains and the weather can change at a moments notice. My days are planned by the weather, if I wake up and I see some unfriendly clouds in the sky I won’t go to a remote school. Sometimes it’s difficult to tell, the storms sneak over ridges really quickly, and there have been a few times I’ve misjudged the sky and have been pelted by hail, downpour rains and stuck next to flash flooded rivers. It’s so unpredictable at times, but also incredibly beautiful. I always carry my raingear, lots of water and some snacks, even if there is not a single cloud in the sky. Just in case I have to run from the lightning.

Some of my favorite moments are the hard rains, lightning, sunshine and double rainbows all at the same time.

Rats for Breakfast

My Basotho mother, Me’ Masentle Rabale is a spunky 60 something year old woman that always keeps me on my toes. The other day she appeared at my open window at 4:30am, as the dawn light started appearing over the mountains. I’m usually starting to wake up around this time, but was still sleeping that particular morning. I woke up to Me’s voice, “Amohelang na u robala joale? (are you sleeping?) Amo! (my nickname). “Amohelang, ke na le bohobe hape tokolotsi” (I have bread and an elf) “Nka” (Take it). I debated pretending I was still sleeping, but groggingly crawled out of my bed and mosquito net and went to the window. Me’ was standing there with a bowl of hot steamed bread in one hand, a dead rat the size of my kitten in the other hand and a huge grin on her wrinkled brown face. She had set some rusty spring loaded traps the day before and was successful at catching the corn stealing culprit. I took the bowl of bread and laughed at my Me’ and wished her well as she was heading to her field. She placed the rat on my window sill hoping my cat would eat it, grabbed her hoe and water jug and walked down the dusty road to her corn fields. I crawled back in bed (after checking and making sure I didn’t have a rat under my bed or sheets ).

One thing about living in a remote village in the middle of Lesotho, is you never know what surprises each new day will bring.

Swimming and Climbing with Bo-Abuti

Sometimes I just need to get out of my village. A few weekends ago I sent a student note to James in the neighboring village and we made plans to travel to Thaba Tseka and get a plate of food and some cold drinks. A plate of food is the name of the traditional meal of Basotho. It usually consists of nama (some type of meat) moroho (cabbage salad) and papa (cornmeal). Sometimes there are other salads like salsa, beets, carrots etc. In Thaba Tseka you can get plates with really good fried chicken and papa. It’s worth the bus fare and the waiting for hours on the side of the road to get some meat and a cold soda.

I jumped on the bus on a cool summer morning just as the sun was coming up between the peaks above my village. Two hours later we rolled into Thaba Tseka at around 8:00am. The first thing James and I did was find a cold soda, then walked to the house of a volunteer who lives in Thaba Tseka. After visiting with some other volunteers we found our infamous plate of food, then went to the local joalang (bar). James, Jordan and I sat outside and visited over cold drinks. The Lesotho wind blew red dust in our faces as we chatted with Basotho who were curious about who we are. The bus eventually came by and we returned to Mashai.

On Sunday we hiked down to a waterfall and relaxed in the water. James and I like to rock climb and both have recently received our climbing shoes in the mail. We bouldered around the rocks while Jordan bathed in the waterfall. The cliff faces above us were lined with kids watching the crazy Americans climb rocks and laying in the “cold water”.

It was a nice weekend hanging out with the guys. James cooked some amazing food (as always) and it was nice to pull on my climbing shoes for the first time in many many months. I've been bouldering around my house lately, the Basotho think I'm absolutely crazy, but it makes them laugh.

The Joys of Public Transportation

Transportation in Lesotho has made me a very patient (or crazy) individual.

The bus stop is a select spot on the side of the road that has a few nice “butt rocks”. Yesterday morning I didn’t have a chance to “park” as the bus was actually on time. I had to jog the last stretch of trail to get to the road before the bus made it. It’s rained for several days so I slid several times running down the red muddy slope. The bus was nearly empty, because of the rain. Most Basotho hate the water and when it floods we have to take a boat across the river and get on another bus. Somedays I could spend 4+ hours on a rock on the side of the road, waiting for the bus. Somedays it never comes, somedays it's 4 hours late and somedays it's actually "on-time" (whatever that means).

The road from Mashai and most of Thaba Tseka is a very bumpy, rocky road that currently is washed out it several places. The slick mud from the heavy rains made the bus move really fast, or really slow, or not at all. We got stuck a few times, the longest for an hour. We were going uphill and stopped then slide backwards quite away, it was a little nerve wracking. I plugged into my ipod and “shut it all out”. Especially when other buses passed us on the down side and every time the brakes were applied they would slide several feet. There are no guard rails on these beautiful mountain roads.

At the Thaba Tseka bus rank (a muddy, empty lot) the bus became full (really full). The rivers were behind us so the bus filled quickly. All the seats were full and the center aisle was crammed with as many bodies as you can get shoved into that small space. I was so happy I wasn’t one of the passengers standing in the center aisle. I’ve spent some quality time sandwiched in one of those spots and always get out of the bus with a few new bruises.

Another seat that really sucks is the edge of a center aisle. All the people standing lean or sit on top of your shoulder or head. If your lap is empty anyone standing in the center can put their bag, child or chickens on your lap. It’s almost as uncomfortable as standing for 8 hours on the really bumpy, rocky, muddy roads.

Yesterday I had my nice comfortable seat by the window. I could occasionally open the window for some air flow, but have to shut it soon after. Basotho think they'll get really sick if the wind blows in their faces. I've tried to explain the chances of getting TB while having 100 bodies confined in a bus with no air flow is much higher, but they just think I'm a crazy American. I was sitting next to a huge woman who’s elbow was in my kidney for a good part of the journey, but that’s nothing compared to other bus journeys I’ve had. For part of the trip she fell asleep on my shoulder. In the states I would have totally felt uncomfortable, but here… no big deal. A little weird, but no big deal. I was content tuning in to my Ipod and staring out the mud splattered window at the beautiful villages and people that waved to the bus. For ten hours…

We spent 1 hour and moved about 15 feet on this slippery spot of the road