Eid 2012

It’s day five of no electricity. We were supposed to get it back today, but being the Eid holiday, there didn’t seem to be a chance any employee would come to our house to flip a switch. With no running water or indoor toilet, electricity is a luxury we can usually boast about. But not for this long holiday weekend. The fridge and its contents have long gone spoiled. There are wax drippings and splatters littered around the house floors and tables and flat surfaces. No internet, no computer, no phone charge, no electric kettle, no lights.

It’s likely that once we get used to living without electricity – something our students are all too familiar with – the lights will come back on. Being back in Tanzania has been a series of adjustments, most of which I’m still in the process of making. Having traveled for seven months before landing back here, the only thing we had to get used to was not getting used to anything. We were constantly on the move. But we’ve chosen to be here for five months, and I keep reminding myself that it just takes time to get used to things, to learn to function and work in a new environment. It just takes time.

For the first couple of weeks I felt fine, good even. I was teaching English to two new forms, worked in a new office space with new co-workers. Even though I’m teaching less than half the number of classes a week that I taught in Bhutan, I was finding productive ways to keep myself busy. I was beyond coping with change; I was thriving.

But now, four teaching weeks into the second semester, I’m floundering. I’m not finding myself in step with my students in either classes. I’m doubting myself as a teacher. This past week, I even cried in the office. I’m trying not to lose hope though, trying to believe that time will work out the kinks and knots.

One major change that took place in between the thriving and floundering was the Laguna Beach House Study Camp. Laguna Beach House is a building on Orkeeswa’s campus. It houses the administrative office and now – four nights a week – twelve Form 4 girls. The Friday before the first inaugural Monday night study camp, I accepted the responsibility of being in charge of the LBH Study Camp. The goal of the camp is to give the female students extra time to study leading up to the all-stressful, all-powerful Form 4 National Exams – a series of tests that will allow some to continue on to A-level education, and will stop others. The study camp gives the students four and a half hours of study and review time – time that’s otherwise, at home, used for doing an endless number of chores before passing out due to exhaustion only to get up in the middle of the dark night to make a feeble attempt at studying. This study camp is, of course, needed, an obvious program to have. But to the only three female volunteers, LBH Study Camp has changed our Orkeeswa lives. On nights that we’re on, we stay at the house with the girls, facilitate their studying and meals and chores, and get up in the middle of the night, when needed, to open the locked door that leads to the toilets. The door is kept locked because we don’t trust the village boys not to scale a small wall to get to our female students.

All in all, being at the camp is not difficult. It’s just draining to be at the school all day and then all night. Simply being “on” for that long is exhausting, regardless of our good intentions or desire to help. The Form 4 National Exams are in mid-October, so the study camp won’t last that much longer. But I do think it’s affected my ordinary teaching duties and general demeanor. [I apologize for turning this blog post into a complaining rant.]

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The fine dust has calmed down a bit after last night’s rain – an unseasonable event predicted by Thomas a couple hours before it happened. The sun has made valiant attempts throughout the day to show itself, but the clouds have won out mostly. Mzee Mbazi’s grandchildren run around next door making recognizable sounds of fun and playfulness, their loud exclamations mingling with clucking chickens, birdsongs, and the wind blowing through the rustling trees and bougainvillea bushes in full bloom.

English

“Let’s eat Grandma!” versus, “Let’s eat, Grandma!” This was the poster about punctuation I was showing to Lalahe, a form four student. While it took me about ten minutes to fully explain the difference in meaning between the two statements (“Punctuation can save lives. Use it wisely."), the first barrier for Lalahe was understanding the word ‘Grandma.’ The students at Orkeeswa are used to seeing ‘Grandmother,’ not ‘Grandma.’ When I said that ‘grandma’ was a shortening, a sort of nickname, for ‘grandmother,’ Lalahe’s eyes widened and he let out an, “Ahhh, I see. Grandmother, grandma. Grandfather, grandfa?”