We don't live in peace, we live in fear.
Over the last few weeks, this statement has been looming in my head. I find myself constantly asking WHY so many choices are made and I've come to realize that this word "fear" can be used to explain so much of what appears to be nonsensical. I don't think it was until this experience that I have really examined my own fears but at least now, I am fully conscious of that. The only way I can even attempt to rationalize some of the things I have witnessed here is to think about how fear effects the choices that individuals make. Whether or not people use fear as a catalyst for some sort of illusion of control or fear causes people to focus on our differences while over looking our similarities, it ultimately comes down to this: do our choices stem from fear or from love?
Something else that I have been thinking about is my beliefs. This may be a silly example but it's the one that I have been contemplating which is my belief to not eat meat or to rephrase, I do not believe in eating meat. I have made a choice to not eat meat because I do not believe in the torturing of animals and the meat industry as a whole. But if I had a choice to either eat meat or die, what would I do? I know this is an extreme situation, but it's a question that I should be able to answer. If I chose to eat meat then I would contradict my beliefs and what is life worth if I have nothing to believe in? After having this discussion with a few people, one person said that the only belief worth dying for is the belief in God. I'm still trying to figure out how to relate to this because never in my life have I said I believe in God but I realize that I cannot say I don't believe in something I don't know. I've decided once I go home I am going to spend some time studying religion so hopefully I can figure out whether or not it's something I believe. In any case, if I've learned one thing since being here, it is the value of conversation.
Another thought that has remained consistent in my head is the thought of going home. What exactly is home? Does home have to be a physical place? It's strange how we use these words like "home" so loosely yet their meanings are so profound. I am (in the literal sense) returning home to America but I do feel at home here as well. This was another conversation I had here with a few friends and I've come to the realization that home is a psychological state simply because home is where I am. In other words, I create a "home" wherever I go. Someone put it nicely by saying that home is our imagination.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Last Thursday was my last day of teaching at Musa Secondary. Musa is a public school that is about a half-hour drive from town, some of the students walk three hours each way everyday to go there. The drive there is insanely beautiful, the school is in the rural outskirts of town so there's nothing but hills of dirt...sometimes I'll see specs of color in the distance and it's Masai boys in their shukas herding cattle. Everday when we would arrive at the school the first thing everyone would do once they got out of the dala dala is brush off their clothes. Since all of the roads are unpaved, it's impossible to avoid the dust.
At first, my teaching partner and I tried to stick to the curriculum of teaching about HIV/AIDS. We were under the impression that that was what our "purpose" was. I was teaching the oldest cohort of kids, Form 4 (ages 16-21) and I found myself wanting to do more, wanting the students to critically think about things aside from HIV/AIDS. One day we had a debate where I asked the kids whether or not they thought Tanzanian was a democratic country. Right now, the primary elections are going on for the upcoming elections in January. Although they hold elections, this place is far from a democracy. The students don't get much of an opportunity to speak up in class, usually when the teacher is in the room he/she is copying stuff from a textbook, writing it on the chalkboard, and the students copy the notes word for word...that's how they "learn". The debate was a huge success, it was interesting to see some of the girls participate too. In secondary school, the boy to girl ratio is unbelievable, there were about six girls in the class of forty. Girls usually have less of an opportunity to go to school for several reasons: one, if the parents can only afford to send one kid to school, the boy gets preference; two, girls get married at a young age because the dowry is worth more if the girl is younger; three, most girls stay home to help around the house and take care of their siblings; and the list goes on. One of my friends from another class told me something one of their female students said and i'll never forget it: "if you educate a woman, you educate society. if you educate a man, you educate one."
One of the biggest challenges I was faced with is that the Form 4 students have their national exams coming up and these exams are a determinant of whether or not they graduate from Secondary School and whether or not they are qualified for University. Because of this, the students were consumed with studying for the exams and only covering material that would be on the exmas. When I wanted to teach about HIV/AIDS, sometimes a group of students would just walk out and other times students would speak out and demand that we stop teaching about HIV. Over the course of my time there, I was able to look at practice exams for the national exam and these exams are HARD, extremely hard. A lot of the stuff I did not learn until I attended college and even with that knowledge, I was limited in what I knew. I still do not understand how the kids are expected to study for the exams when there's not enough books for every student and when they're taught in English and they only speak Swahili.
I felt conflicted in how effective I spent my time in the classroom: part of me just wanted to tutor them for their exams because I knew they needed the help but the other part of me did not want to devalue the value of learning about HIV/AIDS. Everyday was a tough call.
Something unexpected happened our last day. My teaching partner and I put together a lesson plan where the first half of class would be about HIV/AIDS and the second half of class would be a discussion about other things. When we walked into the classroom, the assistant headmaster told us we weren't teaching. After trying to convince the asst. headmaster to allow us our last lesson, he decided to let the students vote. The kids voted us not to teach about HIV/AIDS but instead tutor them for their national exams. I didn't know how to feel about it, I still don't really know. It was great to witness the students taking control of their education and having a say in what happens in the classroom but at the same time, I felt that they just didn't care to learn about HIV. Their reasoning was that they wanted to self study and that our presence in the classroom causes "noise" that distracts them. So on our last day we tutored the kids in math (interesting note: tutoring in Tanzania is called tuition).
Now with two weeks left, I think the remainder of my time will be spent doing physical labor. Every school needs attention. At Mateves Primary, OHS is currently digging a cho (or bathroom)for the kids. It's basically a 20 x 30 foot hole in the ground. At another school called Saint Jema (a private school) we found out one man was hired to rebuild a whole classroom and was trying to finish it before the new school year in January and so he could desperately use our help. Although I've been living in a homestay the past seven weeks, the language barrier has limited my interaction with my family so hopefully I'll have more down time to spend with them.
Lately I've been trying to process everything that I've seen here, I know once I get back to the states it'll all feel too surreal to process. An early morning last week, I heard the kids in my boma outside laughing and a few women talking. At first, I didn't think anything of it but then the noise became louder and it almost sounded like a commotion. Soon, women were yelling at one another. I found out that one of the woman who live in my boma was being accused of having an affair with the husband of the another woman. The two women were arguing but soon it was no longer just a vocal confrontation, the women of the husband brought a knife. It all happened so fast, one of the women was stabbed and there was blood. The children were no longer laughing, all I could hear were the two women outside. Fortunately, there were enough people around to stop the violence but it was the first time that I saw what utter freight looks like and it was the first time that I saw blood from an intentional act of violence. My first thought when it was all happening was to call the police but quickly realize that was not an option because this was a "family matter" that needed to be resolved within the boma. It just doesn't make sense how polygamy is completely acceptable but an affair is a sin worth death.
I know it's impossible to make sense out of things that are nonsensical but I'm constantly finding myself in this trap. I don't know if it is just this place or maybe it's that I'm more aware of what is going on. Either way, there's always something to learn and I must keep telling myself that I know nothing.
At first, my teaching partner and I tried to stick to the curriculum of teaching about HIV/AIDS. We were under the impression that that was what our "purpose" was. I was teaching the oldest cohort of kids, Form 4 (ages 16-21) and I found myself wanting to do more, wanting the students to critically think about things aside from HIV/AIDS. One day we had a debate where I asked the kids whether or not they thought Tanzanian was a democratic country. Right now, the primary elections are going on for the upcoming elections in January. Although they hold elections, this place is far from a democracy. The students don't get much of an opportunity to speak up in class, usually when the teacher is in the room he/she is copying stuff from a textbook, writing it on the chalkboard, and the students copy the notes word for word...that's how they "learn". The debate was a huge success, it was interesting to see some of the girls participate too. In secondary school, the boy to girl ratio is unbelievable, there were about six girls in the class of forty. Girls usually have less of an opportunity to go to school for several reasons: one, if the parents can only afford to send one kid to school, the boy gets preference; two, girls get married at a young age because the dowry is worth more if the girl is younger; three, most girls stay home to help around the house and take care of their siblings; and the list goes on. One of my friends from another class told me something one of their female students said and i'll never forget it: "if you educate a woman, you educate society. if you educate a man, you educate one."
One of the biggest challenges I was faced with is that the Form 4 students have their national exams coming up and these exams are a determinant of whether or not they graduate from Secondary School and whether or not they are qualified for University. Because of this, the students were consumed with studying for the exams and only covering material that would be on the exmas. When I wanted to teach about HIV/AIDS, sometimes a group of students would just walk out and other times students would speak out and demand that we stop teaching about HIV. Over the course of my time there, I was able to look at practice exams for the national exam and these exams are HARD, extremely hard. A lot of the stuff I did not learn until I attended college and even with that knowledge, I was limited in what I knew. I still do not understand how the kids are expected to study for the exams when there's not enough books for every student and when they're taught in English and they only speak Swahili.
I felt conflicted in how effective I spent my time in the classroom: part of me just wanted to tutor them for their exams because I knew they needed the help but the other part of me did not want to devalue the value of learning about HIV/AIDS. Everyday was a tough call.
Something unexpected happened our last day. My teaching partner and I put together a lesson plan where the first half of class would be about HIV/AIDS and the second half of class would be a discussion about other things. When we walked into the classroom, the assistant headmaster told us we weren't teaching. After trying to convince the asst. headmaster to allow us our last lesson, he decided to let the students vote. The kids voted us not to teach about HIV/AIDS but instead tutor them for their national exams. I didn't know how to feel about it, I still don't really know. It was great to witness the students taking control of their education and having a say in what happens in the classroom but at the same time, I felt that they just didn't care to learn about HIV. Their reasoning was that they wanted to self study and that our presence in the classroom causes "noise" that distracts them. So on our last day we tutored the kids in math (interesting note: tutoring in Tanzania is called tuition).
Now with two weeks left, I think the remainder of my time will be spent doing physical labor. Every school needs attention. At Mateves Primary, OHS is currently digging a cho (or bathroom)for the kids. It's basically a 20 x 30 foot hole in the ground. At another school called Saint Jema (a private school) we found out one man was hired to rebuild a whole classroom and was trying to finish it before the new school year in January and so he could desperately use our help. Although I've been living in a homestay the past seven weeks, the language barrier has limited my interaction with my family so hopefully I'll have more down time to spend with them.
Lately I've been trying to process everything that I've seen here, I know once I get back to the states it'll all feel too surreal to process. An early morning last week, I heard the kids in my boma outside laughing and a few women talking. At first, I didn't think anything of it but then the noise became louder and it almost sounded like a commotion. Soon, women were yelling at one another. I found out that one of the woman who live in my boma was being accused of having an affair with the husband of the another woman. The two women were arguing but soon it was no longer just a vocal confrontation, the women of the husband brought a knife. It all happened so fast, one of the women was stabbed and there was blood. The children were no longer laughing, all I could hear were the two women outside. Fortunately, there were enough people around to stop the violence but it was the first time that I saw what utter freight looks like and it was the first time that I saw blood from an intentional act of violence. My first thought when it was all happening was to call the police but quickly realize that was not an option because this was a "family matter" that needed to be resolved within the boma. It just doesn't make sense how polygamy is completely acceptable but an affair is a sin worth death.
I know it's impossible to make sense out of things that are nonsensical but I'm constantly finding myself in this trap. I don't know if it is just this place or maybe it's that I'm more aware of what is going on. Either way, there's always something to learn and I must keep telling myself that I know nothing.
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