I just need to write about something that happened tonight. One of the chemistry teachers, Aman (sp?) came to my house about some university English homework. I invited him inside to work on it together but then I realized he wanted me to do the homework for him (there were several pages) and later he would pick it up and I would explain it to him (which means I would do it for him, and then when he comes to pick it up later he tells me he is busy and I’ll explain it to him “later”). So I asked him “isn’t it you’re work?” and then I offered to help him through it right then. I looked at the first page and it was tough - there were sentences using the conditional and subjunctive tenses which I still struggle through after nine months of being immersed in Portuguese. But I tried to help him as much as I could and we worked through several problems. It was difficult because the questions were way above his skill level and he was not confident enough in his English to try to construct the sentence by himself.
Before we even made it through the first page he asked me if my hired worker - Chris - knew English. “Yeah“, I said. “He’s from Zimbabwe“. So Aman calls Chris over to help him. Chris had been cooking dinner for me in the kitchen. I had an idea of where this was going so I left and continued cooking in the other room. About 5 minutes passed and Aman was already outside my house, on his way back home. “Yeah, I gave it to Chris and he’ll complete it. I’ll pick it up later and he can explain it to me. In the meantime I can work on spelling and how to write”.
“OK” I said. “Boa noite”. I walked back into the kitchen to talk with Chris, who thanked me for continuing to cook dinner.
“Thank you” I said. “It looks like you have some new homework.” I explained to him that I won’t do other people’s work - I’m willing to help people as much as it takes to get the work done but I rarely have to because people usually give up before then. All they want is the answers, they don’t care about learning. “He’s just lazy”.
“Yeah, people here are lazy. He grew up copying and not doing his work and he‘ll continue to do the same thing. He won‘t change.” It was sad but true. Chris later told me he didn’t mind doing other people’s work because he would end up learning from it. “It’s their own loss. I get to learn from the work.” It seemed like an incredibly insightful thing to say from someone still in high school who had grown up in Zimbabwe and been living in Mozambique for two years. Granted the education system in Zimbabwe was a lot better (not sure about it now that Mugabe is really messing things up) but I still wouldn’t expect someone else in Chris’s place to view things so… lucidly. But Chris has a way of surprising me like that. He has his dull moments, but his sharp ones, too. After all, he did win the regional science fair ;)
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Journal Entry September 14
...
School today… ugh. Before I even started class in Turma C it was a mess. They were all riled up because of some drawing homework that was passed back, and I told them to put it away, it was time for chemistry. Then they were complaining because I asked them to turn in homework but I hadn’t told them specifically the class before to do homework on a sheet of paper, even though I have said multiple times to do every homework on a sheet of paper (do it in your notebook, the default, essentially means don’t do it). Everyone was talking, so I told them to be quiet, and one dude said something right after I finished speaking so I kicked him out. Other students were yelling “leave, get out” and so I told them to be quiet and they were students and I am the teacher and they need to sit and listen and learn not tell other students to leave. I think I’m getting better at controlling class, though. I don’t know how, just experience I guess. And the realization that if I want something from them (or I don’t want something) I will have to explain exactly what it is. This could be as simple as not talking during practice problems. It’s bad enough that my classes are so different, but they also have the disadvantage of not being able to think for themselves.
Oh, then there was the thing about the date. I HATE it when students correct me on trivial Portuguese errors. I rue the day I told them it was okay to correct my Portuguese. I had written the date on the board – as is expected every class along with a summary – but had written September in English. The Portuguese word is 2 letters off, but still someone had to correct me… I told them they knew what month it was and we didn’t need to talk about it anymore. God damn, it’s boiling my blood just thinking about it. I don’t think they understand that class time is precious – we have 90 minutes a week. In normal life in Sussundenga though, time is anything but precious, so maybe I will have to explain it to them.
School today… ugh. Before I even started class in Turma C it was a mess. They were all riled up because of some drawing homework that was passed back, and I told them to put it away, it was time for chemistry. Then they were complaining because I asked them to turn in homework but I hadn’t told them specifically the class before to do homework on a sheet of paper, even though I have said multiple times to do every homework on a sheet of paper (do it in your notebook, the default, essentially means don’t do it). Everyone was talking, so I told them to be quiet, and one dude said something right after I finished speaking so I kicked him out. Other students were yelling “leave, get out” and so I told them to be quiet and they were students and I am the teacher and they need to sit and listen and learn not tell other students to leave. I think I’m getting better at controlling class, though. I don’t know how, just experience I guess. And the realization that if I want something from them (or I don’t want something) I will have to explain exactly what it is. This could be as simple as not talking during practice problems. It’s bad enough that my classes are so different, but they also have the disadvantage of not being able to think for themselves.
Oh, then there was the thing about the date. I HATE it when students correct me on trivial Portuguese errors. I rue the day I told them it was okay to correct my Portuguese. I had written the date on the board – as is expected every class along with a summary – but had written September in English. The Portuguese word is 2 letters off, but still someone had to correct me… I told them they knew what month it was and we didn’t need to talk about it anymore. God damn, it’s boiling my blood just thinking about it. I don’t think they understand that class time is precious – we have 90 minutes a week. In normal life in Sussundenga though, time is anything but precious, so maybe I will have to explain it to them.
Monday, September 13, 2010
goats, puppies, and more pics
1) My students and I at the regional science fair. Chris, in the top right, got first place for the older bracket.
2) A snake in my bathroom, before Chris bashed it with a big stick.
3,4) My puppy
5,6) Around the center of town. I don't remember if I already posted these pictures before. The center is a chapa stop where you go to catch a bus to Chimoio, the fifth biggest city in Mozambique and a (bumpy) hour away). The chapa stop is lined by bars, small stores called bancas, and a restaurant that almost never serves food.
7) Also at the center of town, the line of about 10 bancas. Most of them sell the same stuff: oil, matches, spaghetti, etc.
8) Inside one of the bancas
9) The largest "shop" in Suss. They got real dish soap!
10,11) At A Tribunal in Suss on a holiday I believe called A Concordanca de Victoria. It was the day the fighting with the Portuguese stopped and a treaty was signed in 1974.
2) A snake in my bathroom, before Chris bashed it with a big stick.
3,4) My puppy
5,6) Around the center of town. I don't remember if I already posted these pictures before. The center is a chapa stop where you go to catch a bus to Chimoio, the fifth biggest city in Mozambique and a (bumpy) hour away). The chapa stop is lined by bars, small stores called bancas, and a restaurant that almost never serves food.
7) Also at the center of town, the line of about 10 bancas. Most of them sell the same stuff: oil, matches, spaghetti, etc.
8) Inside one of the bancas
9) The largest "shop" in Suss. They got real dish soap!
10,11) At A Tribunal in Suss on a holiday I believe called A Concordanca de Victoria. It was the day the fighting with the Portuguese stopped and a treaty was signed in 1974.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
August 2, 2010
I still don’t have any classes on Thursday, or anything to do for that matter, so today was a slow day. However a couple things happened which made it interesting, which is why I’m writing about it at all.
The first fun thing that happened was this morning. I was in bed reading a National Geographic – from April and also the newest magazine I have – but was kind of falling asleep. However some voices in back of my house woke me up and I realized they were people I knew, on of them my good friends, right outside my window. I went to my backyard and saw four adults, three kids and a couple dogs standing around a goat which was tied up and looking frightened. It was goat killing time, and for some reason they chose to do it in my backyard. Was it bad that the first thing I thought to do was get my camera?
It was actually the first time I’ve seen a goat being killed and I was startled by the gruesomeness of it. They slit the throat and cracked the neck. There was a LOT of blood gushing out, which they saved in a pan of course to eat in some dish I’m not particularly keen to try. I was also surprised by the kids who were totally nonchalant about the event. The littlest, about four or five, was playing with a condom by blowing it up like a balloon. So that’s why I see so many condom wrappers on the ground…
The second thing that happened is, well, I bought a dog. I don’t know if it will end up being MY dog or just be a stray showing up at my house to be fed every once in a while. I’m hoping to train it, though; tricks like sit, come, maybe how to attack people, and if it gets big enough I could ride on its back to the market.
It was never really my plan to buy a dog. I was talking to my whacky friend Tim Froh this afternoon on the phone. He was telling me about some crazy dude in the U.S. who kidnapped some people from Discovery Channel because he thought the company was promoting procreation and overpopulating the world. (Sometimes I’m glad I’ve been away from the states for so long – all that craziness and you’ll start to think it’s normal. But then again Moz has its fair share of craziness as well.) Anyway while I was talking on the phone I saw these really, really cute puppies that my neighbors have. There were 7 of them and they were all running around and fighting with each other. I could barely say goodbye to Tim because I was so infatuated with these little guys. I’m not even a “cute puppy” person, if that gives you any idea how cute this scene actually was.
So I kept telling Chris I wanted to buy a puppy until I decided to do it right then and there. I went to my neighbor’s house and asked if they were for sale – 50 meticais each which is $1.43 if the exchange rate is still 35 mets to the dollar. They had been born last week from a dog I’m pretty sure gave birth like four months ago. Those puppies might all be dead from starvation – I had seen them scrounging around my house for anything, even a little bit of tuna juice soaked into the dirt. That was one of the reasons I decided I wanted one of the puppies. Even if I fail to take care of it, it was probably going to die anyway. I said I’d take one and sat next to the furry convention before making my decision. My criteria were smartness, playfulness, and feistiness. Cuteness was not a factor under consideration because they were all adorable.
I took the rascal home (if you have a good name make a suggestion in the next couple days) and he cried in my kitchen for the next couple hours. After petting him a lot, trying to play with him, and offering him some rice and couve, which he didn’t eat, he was almost asleep. I put him back with his brothers and sisters and I’ll get him tomorrow morning. I’ll know which one it is because he’s got green permanent marker on his head.
Well this blog post is beginning to look like so many others on the internet which discuss the owner’s pets. I’ll end here.
PS more pics on the way. I would have gone to Chimoio today to upload pics but we are on standfast, which means we can not leave our site because of the rioting in Maputo over increased prices. Don't worry, I'm in no trouble. The black mambas in my bathroom are infinitely more dangerous.
The first fun thing that happened was this morning. I was in bed reading a National Geographic – from April and also the newest magazine I have – but was kind of falling asleep. However some voices in back of my house woke me up and I realized they were people I knew, on of them my good friends, right outside my window. I went to my backyard and saw four adults, three kids and a couple dogs standing around a goat which was tied up and looking frightened. It was goat killing time, and for some reason they chose to do it in my backyard. Was it bad that the first thing I thought to do was get my camera?
It was actually the first time I’ve seen a goat being killed and I was startled by the gruesomeness of it. They slit the throat and cracked the neck. There was a LOT of blood gushing out, which they saved in a pan of course to eat in some dish I’m not particularly keen to try. I was also surprised by the kids who were totally nonchalant about the event. The littlest, about four or five, was playing with a condom by blowing it up like a balloon. So that’s why I see so many condom wrappers on the ground…
The second thing that happened is, well, I bought a dog. I don’t know if it will end up being MY dog or just be a stray showing up at my house to be fed every once in a while. I’m hoping to train it, though; tricks like sit, come, maybe how to attack people, and if it gets big enough I could ride on its back to the market.
It was never really my plan to buy a dog. I was talking to my whacky friend Tim Froh this afternoon on the phone. He was telling me about some crazy dude in the U.S. who kidnapped some people from Discovery Channel because he thought the company was promoting procreation and overpopulating the world. (Sometimes I’m glad I’ve been away from the states for so long – all that craziness and you’ll start to think it’s normal. But then again Moz has its fair share of craziness as well.) Anyway while I was talking on the phone I saw these really, really cute puppies that my neighbors have. There were 7 of them and they were all running around and fighting with each other. I could barely say goodbye to Tim because I was so infatuated with these little guys. I’m not even a “cute puppy” person, if that gives you any idea how cute this scene actually was.
So I kept telling Chris I wanted to buy a puppy until I decided to do it right then and there. I went to my neighbor’s house and asked if they were for sale – 50 meticais each which is $1.43 if the exchange rate is still 35 mets to the dollar. They had been born last week from a dog I’m pretty sure gave birth like four months ago. Those puppies might all be dead from starvation – I had seen them scrounging around my house for anything, even a little bit of tuna juice soaked into the dirt. That was one of the reasons I decided I wanted one of the puppies. Even if I fail to take care of it, it was probably going to die anyway. I said I’d take one and sat next to the furry convention before making my decision. My criteria were smartness, playfulness, and feistiness. Cuteness was not a factor under consideration because they were all adorable.
I took the rascal home (if you have a good name make a suggestion in the next couple days) and he cried in my kitchen for the next couple hours. After petting him a lot, trying to play with him, and offering him some rice and couve, which he didn’t eat, he was almost asleep. I put him back with his brothers and sisters and I’ll get him tomorrow morning. I’ll know which one it is because he’s got green permanent marker on his head.
Well this blog post is beginning to look like so many others on the internet which discuss the owner’s pets. I’ll end here.
PS more pics on the way. I would have gone to Chimoio today to upload pics but we are on standfast, which means we can not leave our site because of the rioting in Maputo over increased prices. Don't worry, I'm in no trouble. The black mambas in my bathroom are infinitely more dangerous.
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