I had a party for thanksgiving and thirteen volunteers showed up, making this one of the first things I’ve organized where more people attended than I was expecting. I had tried to get a turkey, but that ended in failure; a friend on the coast brought red snapper, and I cooked pork instead, along with stuffing and mashed potatoes. Amazingly there were pumpkins in the market that day – pumpkins aren’t in season, I haven’t seen them in months – and so we made pumpkin pie using Humphrey’s oven. Erina also made cucumber rolls. It turned out really well.
Humphrey Mutaashta is a VSO accountant from Uganda. He’s
Thursday, November 26, 2009
October 30, 2009
My computer crashed last week and I lost several entries. I’ll try to rewrite a couple of them now.
I suppose I should give some overview of the schools here. Education in Tanzania is based on the British system. Students study in primary school for seven years, in secondary school for four years, and then in a sort of post-secondary school for two years. Most university degrees take only three years afterwards. In Kenya and Tanzania everybody associated with the education system is preoccupied with the numbe of years in each level; if people asked me what education was like in America, I would say “eight-four-four” meaning eight years primary, four years secondary, and four years in University; students and teachers would immediately understand. I could say many other things, of course, but spitting back three numbers is a good way to change the topic. The first level of secondary schooling is called O-level; the second is advanced, or A-level. At the end of each tier of schooling, students take an exam to determine if they will continue to advance; no grades are awarded during the course of the year and this exam is the only record of the student’s achievement.
I’ve seen a lot of differing statistics on the percentages of eligiblechildren enrolled in school, but most likely some 70% of the population now will enter primary school and some 2-3% eventually finish A-level. Maybe one half of one percent of the population continues on into the university. Children cannot begin schooling before they are seven, and given the delays after each level of exams most people here are lucky to finish secondary school by the time they are 21; several of my students are older than me. The first president, Julius Nyerere, was obsessed with education and adopted the titel “Mwalimu” or teacher. I have a series of speeches, in English and Swahili, about his goals to create an egalitarian, socialist society through the education system. He failed, and now the school system is in tatters.
Primary school is taught in Swahili. Secondary schools are supposedly taught in English, although among most teachers fluency is very poor and even A-level English (!) classes use a mix of Swahili and English. Advanced students take only three core subjects, along with a weekly seminar “General Studies” and religion courses twice a week. Scienc estudents who don’t study mathematics as a core subject also take a course called Basic Applied Mathematics. Physics, Chemistry, and Biology classes are comparable to AP courses in America, except the material is somewhat broader than an AP or introductory University course. Mathematics students learn pre-calculus with some little smattering of derivatives and integrals midway through their second year. The syllabi are terrible.
I suppose I should give some overview of the schools here. Education in Tanzania is based on the British system. Students study in primary school for seven years, in secondary school for four years, and then in a sort of post-secondary school for two years. Most university degrees take only three years afterwards. In Kenya and Tanzania everybody associated with the education system is preoccupied with the numbe of years in each level; if people asked me what education was like in America, I would say “eight-four-four” meaning eight years primary, four years secondary, and four years in University; students and teachers would immediately understand. I could say many other things, of course, but spitting back three numbers is a good way to change the topic. The first level of secondary schooling is called O-level; the second is advanced, or A-level. At the end of each tier of schooling, students take an exam to determine if they will continue to advance; no grades are awarded during the course of the year and this exam is the only record of the student’s achievement.
I’ve seen a lot of differing statistics on the percentages of eligiblechildren enrolled in school, but most likely some 70% of the population now will enter primary school and some 2-3% eventually finish A-level. Maybe one half of one percent of the population continues on into the university. Children cannot begin schooling before they are seven, and given the delays after each level of exams most people here are lucky to finish secondary school by the time they are 21; several of my students are older than me. The first president, Julius Nyerere, was obsessed with education and adopted the titel “Mwalimu” or teacher. I have a series of speeches, in English and Swahili, about his goals to create an egalitarian, socialist society through the education system. He failed, and now the school system is in tatters.
Primary school is taught in Swahili. Secondary schools are supposedly taught in English, although among most teachers fluency is very poor and even A-level English (!) classes use a mix of Swahili and English. Advanced students take only three core subjects, along with a weekly seminar “General Studies” and religion courses twice a week. Scienc estudents who don’t study mathematics as a core subject also take a course called Basic Applied Mathematics. Physics, Chemistry, and Biology classes are comparable to AP courses in America, except the material is somewhat broader than an AP or introductory University course. Mathematics students learn pre-calculus with some little smattering of derivatives and integrals midway through their second year. The syllabi are terrible.
October 25, 2008
Matthew Nagatani is another volunteer who lives about 20-25 km from my house, up on the Makonde Plateau. This plateau is dry and consequently poor; almost all the buildings I saw were made from dried mud or cow dung, with thatched roofs. Water was going for 800 schillings a bucket when I visited, more than what most people make in a day (1250 tzs = 1 dollar), and the rain which came Saturday was a godsend. Matt’s village, Nyambe, passes for a big town in the region; but almost no food is available besides rice, tomatoes, beans and onions; life here teaches all of us to appreciate things like vegetables. No other white people live close to him and so he is something of a celebrity. People remembered me as the crazy person who walked all the way from Ndanda.
October 23, 2008
I’m trying to get one of my students into an American university. Festus Ndalama is by far my best student, usually scoring 10-15 points higher than the next one on my chemistry exams; I understand his physics and mathematics results are also the best on his class. During the breaks he remains at school and studies, during weekends he studies, and the result is that he has managed to teach himself undergraduate science without any real qualified teachers or adequate textbooks. Our school had class meetings where the students air their greivances to their fellows and to the class teachers; most other students complained about the bad food, the lack of lab materials and the unqualified teachers; Festus stood up and castigated his fellows for not working hard enough. At O-level he studied at a seminary school, which are viewed as among the best in Tanzania; at this school his teachers forced him to speak only English, so he has no problems understanding me or his exams (which are written in English).
A few weeks after I first arrived I lent him a copy of Brian Greene’s The Elegant Universe. He finished it and could explain some of its concepts to me. After the first Chemistry exam I gave him an English dictionary and some books to study for the SAT’s. Last Wednesday we sat down to register at collegeboard.com.
Collegeboard.com asks all students to complete a profile of themselves, and of course the answers are directed at Americans. Festus had never used a computer before and so I had to fill out all the survey for him. Someof them seemed so ridiculous I didn’t even ask him questions and just checked “no”. Festus lives in Dar es Salaam; neither of his parents had studied past secondary school. He doesn’t have a cell phone and does not return home for holidays, and so I believe he is one of the poorer students here. He has no email address and I used mine; I’ve gotten three messages from collegeboard since then. I think the seventy dollar SAT application fee may put the test out of his price range, and I told him I’d front the money and he could pay me back if he made it to the States.
The experience was both moving and surreal. I tried to picture Festus Ndalama, now dressed in an ironed maroon uniform, walking around a frosty New England campus carrying a laptop. What would he think of a school cafeteria? A library? I do not know what the future holds for Festus, if he will make it to America. If our lab technician screws up the practical again Festus may very well not even make it to the University of Dar es Salaam. For now his focus is on the practice examination which begins next week, and the national examination starting in February.
A few weeks after I first arrived I lent him a copy of Brian Greene’s The Elegant Universe. He finished it and could explain some of its concepts to me. After the first Chemistry exam I gave him an English dictionary and some books to study for the SAT’s. Last Wednesday we sat down to register at collegeboard.com.
Collegeboard.com asks all students to complete a profile of themselves, and of course the answers are directed at Americans. Festus had never used a computer before and so I had to fill out all the survey for him. Someof them seemed so ridiculous I didn’t even ask him questions and just checked “no”. Festus lives in Dar es Salaam; neither of his parents had studied past secondary school. He doesn’t have a cell phone and does not return home for holidays, and so I believe he is one of the poorer students here. He has no email address and I used mine; I’ve gotten three messages from collegeboard since then. I think the seventy dollar SAT application fee may put the test out of his price range, and I told him I’d front the money and he could pay me back if he made it to the States.
The experience was both moving and surreal. I tried to picture Festus Ndalama, now dressed in an ironed maroon uniform, walking around a frosty New England campus carrying a laptop. What would he think of a school cafeteria? A library? I do not know what the future holds for Festus, if he will make it to America. If our lab technician screws up the practical again Festus may very well not even make it to the University of Dar es Salaam. For now his focus is on the practice examination which begins next week, and the national examination starting in February.
August 8, 2009
We began staying with RPCVs in Dar es Salaam, and I spent the last few days with the head of malaria and TB and USAID. He had good stories from his volunteer days, mostly about collecting all sorts of rare artifacts and smuggling them out of Bolivia. His daughter works for the world wildlife fund on a short term contract.
Yesterday I went to the FEMA club office, and was given a lot of materials.
This morning I wanted to leave Dar es Salaam. But we couldn’t find a taxi early in the morning and we missed the bus by five minutes or so. I called someone who works for the company, and he told me to meet the bus in Temeke; so I chartered a taxi to temeke, but when we got there the bus was gone. Then they wanted to go to the next stop and the taxi driver wanted another thirty thousand schillings; I told him I only had three. We got to the stop and the bus was already gone, so I had to get more money from an ATM; the taxi driver is unhappy with his compensation but what I gave him – 23000 total – is more than fair. Anyway I’m stuck in Dar for another day, and am staying in a hotel with bev and steve.
Yesterday I went to the FEMA club office, and was given a lot of materials.
This morning I wanted to leave Dar es Salaam. But we couldn’t find a taxi early in the morning and we missed the bus by five minutes or so. I called someone who works for the company, and he told me to meet the bus in Temeke; so I chartered a taxi to temeke, but when we got there the bus was gone. Then they wanted to go to the next stop and the taxi driver wanted another thirty thousand schillings; I told him I only had three. We got to the stop and the bus was already gone, so I had to get more money from an ATM; the taxi driver is unhappy with his compensation but what I gave him – 23000 total – is more than fair. Anyway I’m stuck in Dar for another day, and am staying in a hotel with bev and steve.
August 2, 2009
My final peace corps conference, a seminar about our close of service. We talk about wrapping up our Peace Corps service and returning to life back in the states. I know, because I already went through a similar conference when I first transferred to Tanzania; but when I did it then I was pretty sure I was going to remain in Africa and the conference felt somewhat irrelevant. The trip up here was uneventful, and our bus even had seatbelts(!) but I’m thankful I’m only making this trip once or twice more before I return home. Met several other volunteers for dinner yesterday.
I spent most of the bus ride, and most of the last few days, steaming about falling attendance in some of my classes. The real kicker was that the same students go to class if a Tanzanian happens to be teaching, and now that we have a practice math teacher from university I have seen students who I thought had transferred months ago. In physics class not more than 10 students arrived any day this week. Once I arrived in Dar I wrote an open letter to the physics students outlining a new policy, and threatening to screw with the test scores of any student who fails to report to every class between now and the end of term.
I spent most of the bus ride, and most of the last few days, steaming about falling attendance in some of my classes. The real kicker was that the same students go to class if a Tanzanian happens to be teaching, and now that we have a practice math teacher from university I have seen students who I thought had transferred months ago. In physics class not more than 10 students arrived any day this week. Once I arrived in Dar I wrote an open letter to the physics students outlining a new policy, and threatening to screw with the test scores of any student who fails to report to every class between now and the end of term.
April 24, 2009
I just started teaching this week. After a period of travel and a month of inaction the school year started without warning (classes supposedly began two weeks ago but the first day is pretty flexible). The school dropped all the math and physics classes on me, so I have more classes than any four other teachers combined. For the first time since I left America I feel like I’ve been working, waking up at 5:30 to prepare classes and standing in front of students for six hours a day. My situation has been immensely complicated by the erratic electricity (see below) – but we should get a mathematics teacher within the next few weeks, brining my courseload back to a normal level.
I find teaching material the second time around isn’t nearly as interesting, and I enjoy my form VI classes much more than my form V. Part of that are the students, the older students are more comfortable in the classroom, answer questions more readily… and there are a lot less of them. I’m not so impressed with the new ones, but we’ll give them some time.
I realize I haven’t update for over two months, ever since the marathon in Kilimanjaro. Mostly I’ve been busy, and when I have had free time the power was dead – for the last three weeks we’ve only had some six hours of electricity a day, mostly at night. I’ve spent a lot more time with my VSO friends across the street, partly because they have reliable electricity and food processors and lots of other goodies that I can’t usually get here.
Erina returned last week, but she plans on spending every weekend from here on out away from site – she likes traveling. My students are also gradually returning to school, if not to class.
I find teaching material the second time around isn’t nearly as interesting, and I enjoy my form VI classes much more than my form V. Part of that are the students, the older students are more comfortable in the classroom, answer questions more readily… and there are a lot less of them. I’m not so impressed with the new ones, but we’ll give them some time.
I realize I haven’t update for over two months, ever since the marathon in Kilimanjaro. Mostly I’ve been busy, and when I have had free time the power was dead – for the last three weeks we’ve only had some six hours of electricity a day, mostly at night. I’ve spent a lot more time with my VSO friends across the street, partly because they have reliable electricity and food processors and lots of other goodies that I can’t usually get here.
Erina returned last week, but she plans on spending every weekend from here on out away from site – she likes traveling. My students are also gradually returning to school, if not to class.
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