Engagement Party
Trip Start
Jun 22, 2008
1
9
36
Trip End
Jul 31, 2008
Gulu,
Uganda
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
8:40-9:20 block. This time I hoped my teacher would actually show up!
Fortunately he did without a minute to spare. He first introduced me to the
class, explaining that I would be "adding input" to what he said. Next, he
begin instruction. I was impressed with his relaxed demeanor. He smiled
profusely. This was a pleasant surprise. My typical experience with teachers
governing large class sizes is that they are usually strict, fearing the loss
of control. Opira Jame's amiable nature actually afforded him with better
classroom control
Dancing #2
. Students were free to take risks and make mistakes, thuscontributing to increased learning. The only traditional "Ugandan
characteristic" I observed was in regards to his differentiation of
instruction. Most of the class was lecture based, preventing students from
developing deeper meaning and context from the lesson. This provided me with
the perfect opportunity for intervention...
Near the end of the lesson, Mr. James asked if I had any
input for the class. You know I did! I went to the front of the 90 student
classroom and prompted students to ascertain solutions to the numerous problems
facing the Land Cultivation Plan. They would complete this task in pairs and
trios. They really enjoyed this opportunity since it was one of few times they
were actually encouraged to communicate with each other during class
More of Engagement
. I laterdismissed them and thanked them for their time.
So I've been thinking... Uganda may be the place for me. At
least for the next year. When else would I do such a thing? The students are so
desperate for learning. They are motivated, bright and eager. Every single one
of them is a teacher's dream. Teaching 116 Ugandans is far easier than teaching
35 Americans. At least that has been my experience so far. Perhaps it's because
they have less distractions. No video games, internet, movies, etc. They all
have chores and work hard throughout the day. School is a break up to this routine. Therefore, by
default it is an enjoyable activity. Here is my other stipulation: The Ugandans
are great at building relationships. This is one of the greatest gifts they
have! Healthy relationships demand great listeners. I have found most Ugandan
children to be great listeners. They are not always in a hurry. They are
committed to you. These factors make them great learners, as effective learning
is comprised of these essential ingredients.
After class I visited the library to obtain the measurements
for the shelves we would construct. I also took a picture in case the carpenter
required this for construction purposes. Next I met Sarah at the house and we
headed for Gulu. We had three things to accomplish while in Gulu: First, eat;
Second, use the internet; Third, order shelves for the library. We fulfilled
only two of these objectives. We ate at Mat Café and used the internet at Ma's.
Nothing too exciting to report regarding either experience. The boda ride back
however is definitely worth mentioning. Apparently there are two "Pope Pauls"
as I discovered when arriving in front of Pope Paul II on the other side of
town. What's worse, is that on the way to the correct Pope Paul, the boda
driver ran out of gas. Shit! Let me tell you just how bad it is being on the
wrong side of Gulu. It's not like missing an exit on the freeway, where you
take the next exit and make your way back; Instead, if you mix your exit you
have to backtrack and sidewind your way to your original destination. Therefore,
there was NO WAY I would be able to walk from here. If I did, I wouldn't make
it to Pope Paul until early Wednesday. Fortunately the boda driver knew of a
technique to keep the boda functioning on an empty tank. He threw something in
the tank, buying us a couple of minutes to the nearest gas station. We did not
pull up to a gas station however. Instead, we purchased a liter bottle of
gasoline at a nearby store. This gasoline proved to be sufficient in getting us
to Pope Paul VI 10 minutes later.
I was late for our "roundtable discussion." Luckily, it had
just begun. The purpose of this discussion was to meet with our partner
teachers and Amy (the Invisible Children Program Director) to converse
regarding our experiences thus far. This all turned out to be pretty positive.
We were all very receptive of feedback. In hindsight, I wish I would have
brought up my desire to teach more classes. At the time, I reported that all
was going "perfectly."
After our roundtable discussion, Opira and I went to the
teacher's lounge to plan our next day's lesson. Here, I found out that there
would be no next day lesson as my class load was reduced to the lower level
sections. Therefore, I had little left to do. Opira asked if I wanted to
observe an "upper level" geography section taught by another teacher. Of course
I obliged. The classroom we visited could barely be called a classroom. While there
was a chalkboard on the front wall the layout was one large room that had been
divided into two sections. The front wall didn't even stretch to the ceiling.
This made the acoustics very tough as you could hear everything going on in the
room next door. The teacher didn't seem to mind however, and it looked as if
the students were used to such inadequacies. The lesson started out engaging
enough, with the teacher detailing the process of exporting wheat in Western
and Eastern Canada. However, after about 50 minutes of direct lecture, the
students were clearly losing interest. That's when he got flustered. He kept
looking at his watch; hoping class would be over soon. Sweat gathered on his
forehead, and his pacing quickened. I knew exactly how he felt. As teachers, we
have all experienced such anxiety. Add to the mix brutal weather outside and no
air conditioning inside, and you have a formula for disaster. He had to think
fast. He looked to me to bail him out...
"Do you have any input to add?" He asked- I knew I didn't
however he was in a bind. I had to think of something quick. I went to the
front of the classroom and the following words came out: "You know what I see
in this room, a lot of problem solvers. Instead of talking to people about the
several problems existing in the world, you discuss solutions. But we have a
major problem here, yes? Wheat exports during the Winter are dangerously
low....Do you like to eat? (The whole class said "yes") Because right now, there
are families in danger of starving. Why? Simply because nobody has solved the
problem of bringing wheat to the Ugandan market. We are here today to solve
that problem. You and me. The future decision makers of Uganda. Who is with
me!"
At first I had only 2 students raise their hands indicating
they were with me, however after further prompting, the whole class seemed
fired up. I next directed them to discuss solutions to the exportation of wheat
problem with the pupils beside them. They worked diligently. Everyone wanted me
to see their work. Let me tell you something about these northern Ugandans. They
are brilliant! Every one of them! Why? Because they have had to solve these
kind of problems their whole lives. There was no local supermarket where the
supply of food was steady and guaranteed. They felt the seasonal changes more
acutely than developed countries.
Students wanted to stay after to chat, but since the next
teacher had to begin class, I had to say good- bye. I left the class again on a
high. This class meeting only served to re- affirm my previous thoughts on
teaching Acholi. They were so receptive to learning. They loved it! They have
only to realize their full potential. They are world changers.
I sang all the way back home, greeting every Acholi child I
passed on the way. I rode my high all the way back to Christ the King where I
met up with everyone to attend an engagement party. Sounds odd right? Here I am
having only been in Uganda for a week and already I was being invited to
exclusive parties. Granted all of us "munus" were invited to the party, I still
felt special. After showering and changing
clothes we headed out.
Upon arriving we ate and then sat down for speeches from
both the bride and groom's family and friends. Given that all the speeches were
in Lwo, we didn't understand a word! Except when they said "mabet" ("fine" in
English), at which point we congratulated ourselves for our deep understanding
of this complex language.
I spiced things up by adding humor where appropriate (or
inappropriate to everybody else). For instance, when anybody spoke, I
translated in English. I somehow made the remarks either sexual or offensive in
nature. "I would like to thank Martha for being my first lay. She taught me
everything I know. Which is what makes me so good with my future wife." The
best was this out of control woman in the back. After nearly every salient (or
non- salient) point, she screamed. It wasn't a normal scream mind you. No, that
would be no fun. Instead, it was a high pitched battle cry: "Ay yay yay yay
yay." I looked around frantically, thinking the LRA would kick in the door at
any moment.
The best moment of the speeches came during the groom's
remarks. It literally happened at the climax of his speech. As he raised his
voice- conjuring up sentimental emotions, probably talking about the great life
that lay ahead, I fell out of my seat. This was not a normal fall. Most people
fall out of their chair in one sweeping motion. The event is embarrassing, but
people soon move on, and the event continues as if it never happened. This fall
was not that simple. It almost happened in slow motion. As I dug my back into
the back of the seat, the backing gave way into the wall and I slid down
slowly. There was no stopping the inevitable fate to come. Soon, I lay flat on
my back with my beer bottle slamming onto the ground beside me. At this point everybody turned. Adam was
laughing so hard, you wouldn't be surprised to see a yellow stain forming on
his pants. I looked like the town drunk. Except I was a "Munu." White and
drunk, not a good combination. In my defense it was only my first beer, however
this makes the story much more fun.
After all the speeches it was time to dance. The only male
African I could model my dance after seemed to be the only male African with no
rhythm. For those of you who have seen my brother Brett's "old man" dance, it
was almost spot on. He stuck his ass out as far as possible and moved his arms
in a downward motion. Meanwhile, his feet slid back and forth. He looked like
he was pumping water from a well. I laughed at first, but I was soon informed
that this was the "proper way" for males to dance. Perfect! This was my chance
to perfect my most humorous dance, and not offend anyone in the process.
As guests, we were required to present a gift to the bride
and groom. When you present this gift, the whole floor clears. People return to
their seats to watch the procession. What's funnier is that we must do the "old
man" dance all the way to the front. I had a little too much fun. Did you ever
notice how I over exaggerate everything? Well, in case you haven't, this is a
definite truism. I stuck my ass out twice
as far, moved my arms twice as
slow, and shuffled my feet at half
time. Our gift giving gave way to a full on dance party. I danced with
literally every Ugandan there. They tried to get me to do the man's part, but
the woman's part was so much fun. Especially when you practice your hip
swinging every weekend at the club.
It was all over a half and hour later. We took the truck
back and prepared for bed. I would tell you all about my sleeping experience
but I have a hard time describing how I look when I sleep.
