Teeeeeacher Briiiiiidget

What a week. I have taken 16 classes for slow leaners and 6 English lessons for a class of 50. I hold the lessons for slow leaners in my classroom - a metal shipping container. There is a low wooden desk and 4 small wooden benches, a blackboard that is actually grey with old chalk and 4 metal bar windows. It's great having my own space and I'm getting the children to colour in pictures (with a highly educated purpose naturally) to decorate it and make it a little less like a metal shipping container. There are 2 main problems with my classroom. The first being that there is no electircity, so in order to a) breath and b) see I have to have the windows open. Unfortunately this means that I tend to have about 30 little faces peering in at me throughout the day asking to come in and screeching 'how are you teeeeeecher Briiiiiiidget?'. It's a little distracting. The other problem is that it leaks - badly. There has been serious rain this week turning the school into a mud pit and my classroom into a dripping health hazard. All a part of the 'experience' eh?!
It's just beginning to dawn on me just how poor the children's education really is. Their lack of knowledge tends to be disgused due to the nature of their usual lessons which consist of repetition and copying directly from a blackboard into their excersize books. The children are all A* students at copying but if you ask them to explain what they're writing, they have no idea. This was made all too apparent to me when I taught some of the children the classic song 'Heads, shoulders, knees and toes'. We sang it about ten times over - much to their delight and my amusument. However, when I gave them a diagram of a body to label half of them were still calling their toes, 'ears'. Hugely frustrating. I fear that my lack of teaching qualifications is going to be a hurdle.
I spent this weekend making huge alphabet charts (such fun) to pin up and preparing lessons for the forthcoming week. I'm trying to put aside my pipe-dream of turning these children into little Einsteins by the end of the term and will instead concentrate on building their confidence, self-esteem and hopefully, in the process, improve their handwriting and comprehension. As 'my' children are the slow leaners they are used to being overlooked and ignored in class. They know they don't need to make any effort to answer questions in class as the brighter children do this for them and so they switch off and cease to exist. As a result it's proving a challenge to keep their attention for the full 40 minutes so I usually end up doing fairly ridiculous things to keep them amused. I'm so glad no one can see me!
I found this week pretty exhausting. The lessons themselves are fine but each one takes an awful lot of time to prepare for. Without a photocopier to hand I've found myself hand-writing individual work sheets for every child. I think I must have drawn 84 apples, balls, cups etc this week alone. But it was worth it to see the sheer delight on the children's faces when I revealled a set of colouring pencils for them to colour in their worksheets. I don't think anything else in the world could have excited them more; in a world of blackboards, chalk, tatty text books and blunt pencils, a tin of colouring pencils was like Christmas and birthdays all at once. Naturally it brought on another lump in my throat - I'm getting used to them.
Another reason for finding this week tiring was thanks to a rather ugly amoeba which has set up home in my stomach. I thought I had food poisioning last weekend but when it didn't go away I eventually went to the doctor to get checked out. After they ruled out typhoid (phew!) they sent me packing with an armful of different medicines to sort the guilty amoeba out. I'm not sure I needed them all but as I had to pay an arm and a leg for them all I guess the doctor wasn't going to hold back on the prescriptions. I'm feeling perkier today (Sunday) so hope that all amoebas have been nuked and that next week will be even more fruitful and eventful.

Reading, Listening and Writting (sic)

I've completed a whole week of teaching and am now filled with remorse for the way in which I treated some of my teachers - it aint easy. But it has been fun. The children are great; incredibly demanding, still curious about this strange white girl, keen to learn and bouncing with energy. The class sizes are around 50 and the level of education within each class is extreme - some children are astute, accomplished and hungry for more knowledge to keep them satisfied. Others however are battling with even the most basic of skills and while they can copy from a blackboard (which often doesn't display the best English - see title) there is no understanding of what they are writing and therefore it's almost impossible for them to keep up with the others. Which is where I come in - I'm going to take the weakest out of each class and try and go back to basics with them so that they can catch up with their classmates. After one particularly frustrating session I have little faith that I'm going to be able to do this. The language is a barrier of course so trying to explain the most basic of things is a huge challenge. Again, any suggestions for how to overcome these hurdles and teach would be most appreciated. Thrilled to recieve your song suggestions, thank you, I can't wait to get into the classroom to try them out.
School starts at 8am so I leave my house & walk for about 15 minutes along an incredibly dusty road. I've never known such dust - there's some building work going on nearby so trucks thunder past and the air turns into a dust cloud that clogs my eyes, nose and mouth. Not having a decent shower at home is my biggest hangup - I need a power shower to get rid of the dust but instead there's 2 dribbles of either freezing or scalding water - neither of which is bareable.
The school day finishes at 4.10pm. Lunch break is an hour and a half during which the children dish out the food which is brought to each classroom in a vat. Lunch doesn't really vary - it's plain rice 'served' with with gloopy beans. Once they've eaten their food at their desks they then have to clean the room, sweep the floors and wash them down. They do all this without any complaint. Imagine us having to clean our own classrooms every day!?
The classrooms are all made from corrugated iron. They only have one or two small windows which means that if it's not sunny the light is very poor. However if it is sunny they get stiflingly hot. I seem to be the only one affected by this heat at the moment so hopefully I'll get used to it but it's only going to get hotter here, it's currently a comfortable 23 / 26 degrees.
It is very strange being a teacher - I still feel like a naughty school girl when I go into the staffroom (a corrugated iron construction) but the teachers are being pretty friendly although they have no idea why someone from the BBC (those 3 letters have HUGE kudos here) would leave it to come to their dusty school. I had a tricky time yesterday when one of the teachers was encouraging me to beat the children. I told her that I think I could manage without it but she was quite insistent that it was impossible to teach children without beating them or pinching them - it was the only way to control them. The other teachers seemed to agree with her and I was even given a lesson in how to beat them and where best to hit them (behind the knee if you're interested). The teachers laughed when I said that I wouldn't beat them and thought that love and attention was probably just as useful a 'weapon'. I had to really bite my tongue as it was not my place to critisise them but I felt very angry. I haven't seen any children being beaten as I'm pretty sure the teachers won't do it infront of me although I have seen them walking around with a cane or a branch. I've seen them pinch the children which I hate but I don't know how I'd handle seeing one of them being beater - just the idea of it makes me feel sick to my stomach.
We have a break between classes at 11 when all the staff drink chai - basically boiled milk, a couple of kilos of sugar with a tea bag quickly dipped in and out. It's pretty sickly but the sugar is a wonderful boost. I thought I might lose weight out here but with the amount of sugar and carbs I'm consuming my waistbands are feeling the strain. I love buying my food from the kiosks now - all the produce is so fresh and so cheap & I've been making friends with the vendors. A couple of days ago I brought 8 tomatoes, a couple of green peppers, onions, garlic, fresh chillies and tomato paste for 80 shillings. Approximately 60p.
Naturally I have my highs and lows here, as we all do, but I think they're probably a little more extreme than usual. The highs are glorious and exhillerating, the lows achey and exhausting. I've really been battling with tiredness and keep praying for more energy to enable me to throw myself into things with passion and enthusiasm. I'm sure that once I'm into a bit more of a routine I'll feel better. Until then I'll just keeping singing, dancing and teaching; it could be a whole lot worse.

A World of Extremes

The meeting in Kibera that I mentioned in my last post was fascinating. It was run by various heads of the Kibera parishes and was attended by about 150 people; all Kenyans apart from 8 mzungu (whites). The meeting was essentially about the issues of the increasing size of slums, how to control their growth and how to improve the living conditions. A woman from the UN Habitat attended - Habitat's aim is to enhance the lives of 100 million slum dwellers around the world, what a job! She gave a power point presentation (projected onto a sheet pinned on the wall) which was interesting but it was very general and had little relevance to Nairobi specifically. When questioned about what UN Habitat was doing for the Nairobi slums she clearly had very little knowledge of the situation, was unable to give any solid facts and excused her lack of knowledge by saying that she wasn't really involved in this area of work but she had to come because no one else could make the meeting. As you can probably imagine, this did very little to encourage everyone there. But it was a positive experience for everyone and many concerns were raised and voices heard.
I found the meeting interesting on many levels but in particular with regards to how it exposed some prejudices of my own that I hadn't been particularly aware of. I'm so ashamed to say that I was surprised by just how articulate, intelligent and impressive the men and women from the slums were - they posed seriously challenging but thoughtful questions to the UN representitive and members of local government. But why was I surprised? It's ridiculous to think that simply because someone lives in a slum, has been denied a decent education and isn't wearing the latest fashions, they do not have the ability to make their voice heard in an intelligent and impressive manner. I think I'm just going to have to accept that this time out here is going to unearth some sides of my character that I don't particular like but if the next 4 months can be a form of a refining process then bring it on - I'm happy to be refined! Every single Kenyan I've met here has been generous, fun, kind and welcoming. I was almost moved to tears (I promise I'm not crying as much as it might sound!) when I was on a Matatu heading across town and one of the men who works in the project office got on board. I'd only met him a few times and didn't know his name. However, when the guy came around to get our money I handed over my 20 shillings but was told that I'd been paid for. Chege (I now know his name) had paid for me. I have never been so humbled - to this man 20 shillings means about 100 times more than it could ever mean to me. What generosity of spirit.
I've continued to see many extraordinary /shocking / glorious / unbelievable things and I continue to be challenged and amazed, which is more than I could have ever asked for. A real highlight was visiting a Rescue Centre for children who have been brought to the centre in dire circumstances by the police (incest, sexual abuse, domestic violence, abandonment to name but a few reasons). The children spend an average of 4 months at the centre being councelled, treated and loved before being put into new families or, if possible & appropriate, reunited with their families. It was a beautiful place - the moment I walked in I was surrounded by little children from the ages of 2 to about 12. They clung on to me, held up their arms to be hugged and didn't let go for the whole time I was there. I hope my being there was of some comfort to them but it was certainly of huge comfort to me. I can't describe just how amazing it felt to have all of those unadulterated hugs lavished on me; my heart was full to bursting and I never wanted to leave. I found it amazing that these children had been through so much (2 year old Charles was found abandoned at a police station, one girl had been raped by her father, a 6 year old boy had been raped by a step-father...and many many other horrors) and had been horribly neglected and adused by adults and yet they were willing to love and trust so freely. There were a few little girls there who sat silently with dried tears on their faces and only occasionally looked over at me curiously. I found out that these were new arrivals who were still adjusting to their new situation. One little 3 year old girl stood silently and stared at me from afar with such a look of anger and stubborness that it really unnerved me - she wasn't expressing the emotions of a child. What a tragedy.
Alongside this wonderful experience I have been educated all about HIV/AIDS, STI's and had a fascinating sex education that was never available to me at school from a wonderful project who teach children and adults all about keeping themselves safe. They had a clever slogan of ABC to encourage sexual health - Abstain, Be faithful & if you can't, use a Condom. Clever eh?!
Probably the most disturbing experience thus far was visiting a rubbish dump in Dandora which is home to 0ver 10,000 children and adults. If I ever had to imagine what hell was like, this place would be it. The rubbish tip stretches over 26 acres, the smell is rancid, steam rises from it - a combination of fermenting filth and small fires - there are huge scavenging birds hovering over it while children rummage for the tinest of scraps to sell and eat. The dump is ruled over by various child gangs - each gang has a leader who controls a certain part of the dump and it would be suicide to venture into a rival gang's 'space'. It reminded me of 'City of God' but set on a pile of garbage. I wish I could say that it was like something out of another world, but it isn't. It is in our world.
The reason I entitled this message 'a world of extremes' is due to the fact that I went from one extreme to another this weekend. I took a couple of Matatus across Nairobi to get to my aunt & uncle's house and in doing so I walked from one world into another. The transition was pretty quick - my uncle did not appreciate having this filthy, smelly girl in his home (!) so I leapt out of my dusty clothers and into a shower and within half an hour I was in clean clothes, drinking fine wine and eating steak and chips brought to me by one of the house staff. As if this wasn't bizarre enough I then spent saturday and sunday at an international polo tournament in Gilgil. It was, as you can probably imagine, a lavish affair with a big black tie event in the evening which was followed up with a big breakfast, bloody marys and more polo. I was made to feel very welcome and was looked after wonderfully but I had a persistant niggle about how unfair it all seemed. This uncomfortable feeling was not helped by some attitudes that were expressed, a couple of which were that there's no point trying to help the Kenyans as they're all corrupt, lazy and happy to be forever reliant on handouts. There was no point in my trying to explain that this couldn't be further from the truth. Thankfully this is not an opinion shared by everyone & many people were encouraging and interested in what I was doing - even if they did think I was completely mad! I did have a great time and met some really fun people who I hope to keep in touch with as well as rekindling old friendships from my previous times out here.
Coming back to South B was a bit like going back to boarding school after a long holiday but within a couple of hours I was back into the swing of it and I really enjoyed my first day teaching today. The children were, without exception, delightful and we had great fun. I'm going to help out in a classroom this week but next week I will be given my own classes from standards 3 & 4 (roughly ages 8 - 10). I'll be teaching the children who are struggling most with literacy & writing etc. I can't wait although I do find the teaching a touch intimidating. I think the best coping strategy is to act as if you do this all the time and keep the children singing and dancing so that their hunger and tiredness doesn't distract them too much. It's a lovely school for 0ver 800, wonderfully run with colourful classrooms and smiling teaachers. What I found most bizarre is not being able to just get a pen or some paper to write on if I need it - these resources simply aren't available. The children's excersize books are so tatty and worn but they look after them with a real pride.
In a few weeks, when I've settled into this school I'm going to do the same thing for 2 or 3 days a week for the school in the slum that upset me so much - it is a very different place, with much less support from staff and lower levels of education so I need to be confident with how to handle myself and the children before I make this move. If anyone has any suggestions for songs that help teach (like 10 green bottles and sing a rainbow) that would be incredibly helpful...I think I'll have exhausted my repertoire by the end of tomorrow.
On a lighter side, I had a Twaekwondo lesson last night! Daniela, who I live with, has been having private lessons for 18 months now and is seriously good - I was seriously rubbish but got real enjoyment from kicking and punching - a great way of venting any anger and frustration that builds up. I've signed up for lessons on Monday's & Thursdays (the teacher comes to the flat) so hope to have a black belt by the time I come back!
Much love to you all. Bridget x

South B - home

Well I've moved into my new home 'Plains View' in South B, Nairobi. Despite being forewarned about some unwanted house guests (rats & cockroaches) I'm enjoying being there and have become happily acquainted with our furry friends who seem to have no intention of going anywhere! I have a nice room which is simple but comfortable - the main downside of the room being that it looks out onto a busy street so sleep is proving a challenge. If I'm not being woken by the call to prayer from the nearby mosque then its a Matatu screeching past or the outside water tank filling up or a radio blaring some very 80's music into my ear. Bizarrely I find it all rather wonderful & exotic, maybe the novelty will soon wear off?

I share the house with 3 Slovakian girls who are all lovely but the language barrier is a problem and I feel a touch awkward at times as it would be so much easier for them to chat away in Slovakian which they do at times but they try hard to stick to English. Not sure why there are so many Slovakians in this area but they're everywhere!

This week has been another blinder - and it's only Wednesday. Yesterday I visited 2 schools in the slum area - both are basic in the extreme, have far few staff for the amount of children they accommodate (800 & 1300) but one of the schools broke my heart and brought about the first tears of my trip. It was in the middle of the Mukuru slum - surprisingly the poverty & conditions here were even more horrifying than in Kibera. It was a dusty, grotty area into which the children were crammed - classrooms were little more than tatty cattle sheds & each held about 50 or 60 children who had to share desks and chairs. They're all so adorable in their uniforms which are invariably mixed and matched and filthy and they rarely have a smile off their faces. One classroom of six year olds was full apart from a teacher - the little things were just sitting there alone because the teacher was off sick. So beautifully behaved yet expecting little more for themselves. A large river of sewage ran through the grounds which no one takes responsibility for so the poor teachers have to keep unblocking it and covering it up. I'm probably going to spend a couple of days in this school helping the children who struggle most with their studies but to be very honest, the thought of spending time there really fills me with dread as it is so bleak and vast so that the problem seems utterly unsolvable. I walked around the school with a lump in my throat - where on earth can we begin to change places like this? No one takes responsibility for changing the situation because so many are responsible; government, world debt, individual families. It's daunting and exasperating.

Today I went to another slum to do home visits with some girls who help mentally ill women & women with extreme difficulties to get some self-esteem back by counseling them and then helping them start up a business - this may just be selling maize in a little stall but it's a start and they can hold their heads up. We did a few surprise visits to see how the woman were coping. Many had 'disappeared' upon hearing that they were being checked up on but we met a few of the woman who invited us into their homes. These 'homes' were normally to be found down tiny little alleys which were thick with sewage (I was hopping and leaping all over the place again!) Going into the homes was an intriguing (I'm so nosy!) and incredible experience. They were no bigger than a typical downstairs loo in a British home - with a very small bed, perhaps a table with a stove for cooking (with paraffin so the smell is strong and harmful for children) and maybe a stool. One home had 4 baby white rabbits also sharing their floor - children have to share beds with their parents or sleep under the bed. They are privy to everything that goes on between their, often single, parents at night and so lose their innocence so young. There's nowhere for the children to do their homework or simply be children. One of the women we visited told us that her nextdoor neighbor had been 'slaughtered' (yes, literally slaughtered) that evening. Someone had taken her from her home and killed her in a house opposite. The police had been there just before us and demolished the house but there was a lot of blood on the floor and on the remains of the home. For some reason I felt no emotional reaction to seeing the blood or hearing about what had happened to her - I fear becoming desensitised but perhaps the reality was too ghastly to properly absorb & there was an element of self-protection kicking in?

Tomorrow I'm going to attend a large meeting of NGO heads in Kibera which will be an interesting experience no doubt. They're all discussing how they can work together & communicate better so it should give me an idea of how things work around here. Kibera seems to have a lot of attention and focus (perhaps partly in response to 'The Constant Gardener) but some of the other slums are utterly ignored and abandoned - I want to shout and scream at someone to come and sort them out but I'm sure if it was that simple it would have been done a long time ago. The people (mostly nuns) who dedicate their lives to setting up schools and children's homes should all be cannonised - amazing, glorious people of God who never have smile far from their faces and are indomitable in the face of hurdles. I have a lot to learn from them.


NEARLY MOVED IN:

Dear All - I'm just making the most of my aunt's computer until I move into my new home tonight where electricity is on a meter so there's no computer or TV (or hair straighteners - eeek!) so I'll have to track down an internet cafe for my next update. I'm going to be living with a group of Slovakins who are working out here in the slums as volunteers. I've just received a text from one of the girls who lives there saying that they've got an infestation of rats! Nice, I think I'll pack a hammer!

This week has been a real feast of experiences - the highlights being visting Kibera (the main slum), driving myself around Nairobi which is an experience in itself and familiarising myself with the Matatus (small buses which hurtle around Nairobi at great speed). It may sound silly but it felt like quite an achievement braving these buses as they are always rammed full of people & you have to leap on them as they rarely stop for you to get on, just slow down and you have to hurl yourself in and hope that you're on the right one! I was a little taken-aback when I had a bath later in the day and the water turned black - they're not the cleanest way to travel that's for sure!

My first experience of Nairobi's slums was a jaw dropping one. Kibera is home to about 1 million Kenyans but only covers an area about the size of a golf course. Every single inch of land is taken up with homes / shacks, stalls selling a variety of wares, open fires cooking maize and other snacks and people sitting around chatting. Kibera is a network of narrow alleyways & the main 'street' is a railway line. Sewage runs along every street so you have to walk along with your eyes firmly on the ground so you can leap over puddles of muck every other step. While I was walking along the railway line heading to one of the projects I was suddenly shouted at & when I turned around I saw an industrial train chugging steadily towards me. I had to leap over a stream of sewage onto a large pile of compost to avoid this vast locomotion as it thundered past. I must have looked so funny - a white girl teetering precariously on a pile of rotting vegetables with a rather shocked expression on her face! It's extraordinary to think that people live with this danger every day - there was no way the train was going\nto stop so I hate to think what would happen if a child could't get out of the way in time.

Walking through the slums I was constantly surrounded by little children who were an absolute delight - they all chorus 'how are you' and shake your hand and then run off squealing, for some reason they found me hilarous -hmmmm! The project I visited was a real oasis amongst so much poverty and filth. It runs a primary & secondary school (the latter of which is being threatened with closure - something to do with title deeds but is essentially beuracracy gone mad - if the school closes there will be about 120 children back on the streets with nothing to keep them out of trouble, it makes no sense) They also have a health clinic, a pro-life councelling service, training courses in mechanics and dressmaking which provides a lifeline out of the slums and into employment, as well as a drop in centre for street children. If I end up working for this project I'll probably be teaching in the primary school & helping to run the drop in centre which means that I'll work closely with the social workers, organising home visits to establish why the children aren't in school and encouraging them to come to the project. The project also runs a feeding programme as hunger prevents many children from being able to concentrate at school. It was a wonderful place but vastly understaffed - there were only 2 volunteers working there so an extra pair of hands will go a long way.

Next week I am going to the women's prison in Langata to take provisions (loo roll, soap etc) and see how the children who live with their mothers there are getting on. It's a vile place the prison - cramming over a thousand women into a place that is only built to accomodate around 300. I'm also going to spend time in another slum area - Makuru - which has 4 primary schools an orphanage and various drop in centers. I've been asked to do a couple of afternoons / evenings at the orphanage to help the children with their homework and to play with them...even something as simple as being there to talk to the orphans and play games is apparently something which is desperatley needed. So simple yet so precious. I'm also going to have Swahili lessons which I'm quite excited about. So far my 'where's the loo', 'a cold beer please' 'I'd love a cup of tea' and various other phrases have proved pretty useless.

So that's pretty much it from me for now - I will endeavour to write again once I have more news...hopefully news of rat exterminations!

Much love to you all - thank you for your messages & prayers - they mean the world to me.

Bridget x