This is really me and that only needs to be said because some Nigerian (well that's where he wanted the money sent) co-opted my email account and put out an urgent plea for money to all those on my contact list ostensibly because I was stuck while traveling in Nigeria and lost my pass port and wallet and you were (if so moved and fooled by the bad English) to send money quickly via wire transfer. I knew I'd been locked out of my Yahoo email and was informed that I could not get into that account for security reasons. I 'replied' to Yahoo Security message only to find out that Yahoo was unable to deliver it! Email friends delivered 'my sad message requesting funds' to my by hand. I had no email, has lost my contact list and all my email files. Mostly I wanted my contact list, since I don't remember anyone email address. It took only a few minutes to get another email address, but to whom could I write?
A phone call got me started and slowly I am getting addresses again. It came to me that perhaps putting my new address in this blog would get it to my 3 relatives and my 2 or maybe 3 regular readers and put them back in touch with me again. So if your emails have been undeliverable, please try samweeks23@yahoo.com
A Hot New Stove Arrives
In science class we had just finished studying about the various ways that heat travels when the students were a bit more interested than usual about something happening outside. A large silver, heavy object was being delivered and into the lunchroom doors it went. A little later found that we were the recipient of a special FREE stove from the UN World Food Program. It is very efficient and will reduce charcoal use by a significant amount, it can work with just a bit of kindling and no charcoal.
You don't drive anywhere in this area without seeing charcoal for sale or charcoal on the move. Mainly it is moved by bicycle. So much charcoal is loaded on bikes that they can not be ridden, but must be pushed much of the time. Charcoal is for sale roadside and can also be seen on passing trucks. I have not seen the areas where charcoal is produced but I heard them described. Not an ecologically cheerful sight to say the least.
Well if this stove catches on, those many folks in the charcoal business will need other work, one hopes doing less environmental damage.
But back to my science class. New efficient stove, dealing with heat transfer in a much better way! Oh, its time for a short field trip to the kitchen for 5th grade class inspection. No heat lost via radiation as with the typical Zambian (glowing) charcoal stove. All the heat is directed to and around the large pot which is designed to be held and surrounded by the stove. What a wonderful demo for my class and on just the right day.
Testing
Next week will be taken up with testing and I have been preparing exams for each subject. Something new about this testing session. This will be the first time that the students will receive individual copies of their tests. That is the teachers will not have to write them on the board. Board space is limited and I don't have space to write 50 questions.
Well, we have a copy machine, just like a real school. 'Blackboard' tests often involved students moving around in order to see the question and certainly gave them the chance to better see what other students had done or were doing. And the teacher will not have to be erasing the first part of the test in order to put up the last part. So better monitoring will takes place.
I don't think I am or was a good test taker. Tests have always made me nervous. After all these years of teaching and giving tests, you might be surprised to know they still make me nervous, that special feeling in the pit of your stomach, that tightness occurs, even when I am just giving the test.
Don't let your life be the test for which you forgot to study.
This is the verifiable Sam Weeks blog pressing out of Africa.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
One day.
A volunteer's schedule:
Up at 5:30am and I head for the shower. Hopefully I have remembered last night to 'recharge' the geezer (the hot water heater which was appropriately named Geyser but now through the evolution of language, shares its name with me). Recharging the hot water tank refers to the solution to a problem from low water pressure, even though we have two tall towers for our water tanks. The pressure in my building seems adequate to deliver cold water to the taps, but the geezer is located up on the wall about 12 feet and the pressure is not always there to raise the water to that height, I surmise. When that happens, the hot water just stops. So to avoid this problem (this may not seem straight forward, but please hang in there) the best thing to do is to go to the adjoining room with a tub. Now you cover the dual tap for cold/hot water with your hand and then turn on the hot and then the cold water. Since the water can not come out the tap, the cold water is backed up into the geezer/geyser via the hot water outflow pipe. Now why, you might ask, will it go into the hot water tank that way and not the usual way? Well I don't know, but I do know the best way to predictably get a warm shower and that Africa holds many mysteries.
Going back to my room, I try to note the day, is it clear or cloudy and is it windy. Well you know about the wind since our slatted (jalousie) windows are not a big impairment to a breeze. It's still dark but you look for signs of clear sky indicating possible sunny day which might suggest lighter clothing. Give it you best bet and get dressed.
Breakfast consists of cold cereal and fruit. Recently my concern is the hot water for my tea. We suffer from regular and mostly predictable power outages. Lately they have been occurring at about the time those in the other houses are stirring and starting their day. The stove and hot water kettle are electric. Tea has only been delay a few minutes some mornings. The dishes are washed in cold water.
This is the time spent with my daily log. I read through 'yesterday' to see if I missed anything at the evening writing, making additions if necessary. And then start the current day with my weather report and any details I know that will make this day different from the others.
Putting my day together requires assembling all those things needed through the day, up until I return home at about 4:30 (16:00 hrs). This might include: special books, materials for science class, water bottle, etc.
I leave around 7:30 and walk to school, often joined by the early kids. Once in my class room, I try to put in order the things on my desk for upcoming classes, but my room seems a popular place to stop in for kids of all ages. Also because I try to keep the windows and door closed, my room is warmer and they come in for the warmth, but tend to leave the door open. So I am busy at the door. (Should explain that the classroom door only stays shut if locked, or otherwise one must jam just enough burlap bag [it also serves as a door mat] into the jamb to hold the door against the breeze). The kids are also immensely interested in my desk and everything on it. Hands are out constantly shuffling and reorganizing my things in what I am sure seems a helpful way. So I am busy at my desk. It often is with some relief to have the day's instruction begin.
We try to start with my reading a story, maybe 15 minutes with a very brief discussion of what is was about. This sometime requires, however, that I retell the story so that everyone understands what happened. A couple of the students though sharp, can't get much meaning from the spoken word despite my slow pace with constant interruptions to make sure certain words are understood. I most always start by saying please stop me if you don't understand what is happening in the story.
Math is the first subject of the day and usually begins with drills. We've been working on the 'times tables'. I put numbers down the board somewhat randomly (to keep them from reading off their copies of the times tables printed on every workbook they have) from 1 to 12, and then put the multiplier next to them, such as "8", and then point at the random numbers and they call out the answer to what 8 times that number is. I have gotten them up to 'speed' both to avoid using the time table charts and counting on their fingers.
We go from drill to their working at the board in groups. I have learned it is best to give them each different problems since none of them can keep their eyes off what is going on next to them. We start with simple problems which are repetitious of the previous drill then work up to multiplying 2 and 3 digit numbers. Several of the student are good at this, to the point that I occasionally get my math corrected by one of them. I should be embarrassed but instead I am immensely proud.
We are doing division problems as well, now at the end of math class for those who have mastered their times tables and as a goad to those who haven't.
After math, it's usually English class which includes spelling. These words are used in sentences, making sure they can pronounce them and know their meaning. Most are doing well as they should. For I have explained that no one should ever fail a spelling test. It is the only test that a teacher ever gives in which all the right answers are provided well before the exam. Some students want me to make the spelling more difficult, so I have added five more difficult words to the 10 words frequently found in our reading.
We are learning to identify a complete sentence including the subject and predicate. Nouns, verbs, adjectives and adverbs are becoming more obvious. Reading and writing are two more activities. As an ESL teacher, I am hampered by not speaking, nor understanding the various languages these kids know and use.
Science class has involve looking at and dissecting flowers and fruit, drawing insects and identifying soil types. We are learning the metric system of measurements. I purloined a scale form the pantry of my house so we can weigh things. The Ithaca group sent us thermometers, the first that some children have seen. We all have rulers. So we measure the volume of boxes in cubic cms and determine the classroom floor area in square m. We have built a compost.
In Social Studies we have covered a large area of subjects from religion, over population, disease, farming, health, to local geography.
New to our curriculum is something called Technology and Creativity. And this is as broad as it sounds. Since I feel that I include technology in science class, I've tried doing more with creativity. We have molded objects from local (it's free) clay. But first they had to draw the object from three different perspectives. Now this took some explaining. One student couldn't get the idea of different perspectives and continued to repeat his drawing of the side of a truck. I finally took some clay and made a little truck and turned it, looking at it from the front and from above. No luck. I tried to get him to imagine what he would see while walking if a truck were coming towards him. I explained it to other students who understood and had them explain it to him in his language. Never got the second perspective I wanted but instead did get a most interesting Picasso-like drawing showing two sides of the truck at once.
The day includes a break at 10 and lunch at 1:00 and the end of instruction at 4pm. Since the other teacher have to walk some distance and catch public transportation, I hang around and see the kids off the school ground and on their way home.
On Thursdays last period my class has P. E. during which they play soccer for an hour. This is interesting to see how they interact on the pitch. In class they don't always get along smoothly. There are arguments, you took my pencil and the like. But on the pitch any signs of disagreement are gone and no fighting over whether a goal was scored or not. They play rough but with great freedom from cross words or fighting. It's a joy and a puzzlement.
Friday is testing day and we give exams in each subject. The school day ends at 1pm, the kids go home and the teachers work on lesson plans, etc. for the next week.
School breakfast is provided for non-resident children. Lunch is provided for children and staff.
After school I try to take a walk, since the classroom offers little real exercise. Then I headed home to check emails, read and catch some BBC news via the radio. At some point between 6:30 and 7:30 a group of boys will come for me from the house at which I am current eating. They take me to supper just in time to sit down and eat.
When the meal is over and the table cleared and wiped, the books come out and the listeners crowd around. Sometimes so tight, I can't turn the pages other times there may be as few as three. After about a half hour of reading, I excuse myself giving good-nights and walk home, noting the stars and the big dipper standing now on its rim on the horizon with no North Star. Occasionally I will turn 180 degrees to look at the Southern Cross or enjoy the moon shining on the metal roofs of the houses.
Home to writing my evening log entry and more reading, emailing, blogging. Finally I throw the large mosquito net with a grand gesture, but all I have ever caught is my bed. I must remember to recharge the geezer (you know all about that) and put on the automatic kettle which boils a liter of water and then shuts off, by morning it will be cold and become my drinking water for the day. And that's as exciting as it gets.
This is Sam Weeks blog pressing out of Africa.
Up at 5:30am and I head for the shower. Hopefully I have remembered last night to 'recharge' the geezer (the hot water heater which was appropriately named Geyser but now through the evolution of language, shares its name with me). Recharging the hot water tank refers to the solution to a problem from low water pressure, even though we have two tall towers for our water tanks. The pressure in my building seems adequate to deliver cold water to the taps, but the geezer is located up on the wall about 12 feet and the pressure is not always there to raise the water to that height, I surmise. When that happens, the hot water just stops. So to avoid this problem (this may not seem straight forward, but please hang in there) the best thing to do is to go to the adjoining room with a tub. Now you cover the dual tap for cold/hot water with your hand and then turn on the hot and then the cold water. Since the water can not come out the tap, the cold water is backed up into the geezer/geyser via the hot water outflow pipe. Now why, you might ask, will it go into the hot water tank that way and not the usual way? Well I don't know, but I do know the best way to predictably get a warm shower and that Africa holds many mysteries.
Going back to my room, I try to note the day, is it clear or cloudy and is it windy. Well you know about the wind since our slatted (jalousie) windows are not a big impairment to a breeze. It's still dark but you look for signs of clear sky indicating possible sunny day which might suggest lighter clothing. Give it you best bet and get dressed.
Breakfast consists of cold cereal and fruit. Recently my concern is the hot water for my tea. We suffer from regular and mostly predictable power outages. Lately they have been occurring at about the time those in the other houses are stirring and starting their day. The stove and hot water kettle are electric. Tea has only been delay a few minutes some mornings. The dishes are washed in cold water.
This is the time spent with my daily log. I read through 'yesterday' to see if I missed anything at the evening writing, making additions if necessary. And then start the current day with my weather report and any details I know that will make this day different from the others.
Putting my day together requires assembling all those things needed through the day, up until I return home at about 4:30 (16:00 hrs). This might include: special books, materials for science class, water bottle, etc.
I leave around 7:30 and walk to school, often joined by the early kids. Once in my class room, I try to put in order the things on my desk for upcoming classes, but my room seems a popular place to stop in for kids of all ages. Also because I try to keep the windows and door closed, my room is warmer and they come in for the warmth, but tend to leave the door open. So I am busy at the door. (Should explain that the classroom door only stays shut if locked, or otherwise one must jam just enough burlap bag [it also serves as a door mat] into the jamb to hold the door against the breeze). The kids are also immensely interested in my desk and everything on it. Hands are out constantly shuffling and reorganizing my things in what I am sure seems a helpful way. So I am busy at my desk. It often is with some relief to have the day's instruction begin.
We try to start with my reading a story, maybe 15 minutes with a very brief discussion of what is was about. This sometime requires, however, that I retell the story so that everyone understands what happened. A couple of the students though sharp, can't get much meaning from the spoken word despite my slow pace with constant interruptions to make sure certain words are understood. I most always start by saying please stop me if you don't understand what is happening in the story.
Math is the first subject of the day and usually begins with drills. We've been working on the 'times tables'. I put numbers down the board somewhat randomly (to keep them from reading off their copies of the times tables printed on every workbook they have) from 1 to 12, and then put the multiplier next to them, such as "8", and then point at the random numbers and they call out the answer to what 8 times that number is. I have gotten them up to 'speed' both to avoid using the time table charts and counting on their fingers.
We go from drill to their working at the board in groups. I have learned it is best to give them each different problems since none of them can keep their eyes off what is going on next to them. We start with simple problems which are repetitious of the previous drill then work up to multiplying 2 and 3 digit numbers. Several of the student are good at this, to the point that I occasionally get my math corrected by one of them. I should be embarrassed but instead I am immensely proud.
We are doing division problems as well, now at the end of math class for those who have mastered their times tables and as a goad to those who haven't.
After math, it's usually English class which includes spelling. These words are used in sentences, making sure they can pronounce them and know their meaning. Most are doing well as they should. For I have explained that no one should ever fail a spelling test. It is the only test that a teacher ever gives in which all the right answers are provided well before the exam. Some students want me to make the spelling more difficult, so I have added five more difficult words to the 10 words frequently found in our reading.
We are learning to identify a complete sentence including the subject and predicate. Nouns, verbs, adjectives and adverbs are becoming more obvious. Reading and writing are two more activities. As an ESL teacher, I am hampered by not speaking, nor understanding the various languages these kids know and use.
Science class has involve looking at and dissecting flowers and fruit, drawing insects and identifying soil types. We are learning the metric system of measurements. I purloined a scale form the pantry of my house so we can weigh things. The Ithaca group sent us thermometers, the first that some children have seen. We all have rulers. So we measure the volume of boxes in cubic cms and determine the classroom floor area in square m. We have built a compost.
In Social Studies we have covered a large area of subjects from religion, over population, disease, farming, health, to local geography.
New to our curriculum is something called Technology and Creativity. And this is as broad as it sounds. Since I feel that I include technology in science class, I've tried doing more with creativity. We have molded objects from local (it's free) clay. But first they had to draw the object from three different perspectives. Now this took some explaining. One student couldn't get the idea of different perspectives and continued to repeat his drawing of the side of a truck. I finally took some clay and made a little truck and turned it, looking at it from the front and from above. No luck. I tried to get him to imagine what he would see while walking if a truck were coming towards him. I explained it to other students who understood and had them explain it to him in his language. Never got the second perspective I wanted but instead did get a most interesting Picasso-like drawing showing two sides of the truck at once.
The day includes a break at 10 and lunch at 1:00 and the end of instruction at 4pm. Since the other teacher have to walk some distance and catch public transportation, I hang around and see the kids off the school ground and on their way home.
On Thursdays last period my class has P. E. during which they play soccer for an hour. This is interesting to see how they interact on the pitch. In class they don't always get along smoothly. There are arguments, you took my pencil and the like. But on the pitch any signs of disagreement are gone and no fighting over whether a goal was scored or not. They play rough but with great freedom from cross words or fighting. It's a joy and a puzzlement.
Friday is testing day and we give exams in each subject. The school day ends at 1pm, the kids go home and the teachers work on lesson plans, etc. for the next week.
School breakfast is provided for non-resident children. Lunch is provided for children and staff.
After school I try to take a walk, since the classroom offers little real exercise. Then I headed home to check emails, read and catch some BBC news via the radio. At some point between 6:30 and 7:30 a group of boys will come for me from the house at which I am current eating. They take me to supper just in time to sit down and eat.
When the meal is over and the table cleared and wiped, the books come out and the listeners crowd around. Sometimes so tight, I can't turn the pages other times there may be as few as three. After about a half hour of reading, I excuse myself giving good-nights and walk home, noting the stars and the big dipper standing now on its rim on the horizon with no North Star. Occasionally I will turn 180 degrees to look at the Southern Cross or enjoy the moon shining on the metal roofs of the houses.
Home to writing my evening log entry and more reading, emailing, blogging. Finally I throw the large mosquito net with a grand gesture, but all I have ever caught is my bed. I must remember to recharge the geezer (you know all about that) and put on the automatic kettle which boils a liter of water and then shuts off, by morning it will be cold and become my drinking water for the day. And that's as exciting as it gets.
This is Sam Weeks blog pressing out of Africa.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Eating and Reading Around
Well with the change of month, I have changed the house I eat at. I am now at house 2, not exactly in order, but I have made the full round of houses. Each is different with a little mini culture all their own. House 2 is heavy on formality with my food served in separate dishes instead of being served to you on one plate. The quantities are back where there were when I started, but because of the cold weather and increased appetite, I am not protesting quite so much. The first night, I was seated with the house mother, which was a first.
Again the children are not used to a story reading session after the meal and don't quite seem to know what to make of it. Sometimes I start with what looks to be the youngest about 3 in number and as I read the group grows in numbers and in age. I have them select the books and bring me the ones they want to hear. At this cold season of the year with short days and long nights, it is an old tradition to sit around the fire and listen to stories. We lack two things, the fire and the story teller. We sit indoors and listen to stories being read. In house 1, I read almost exclusively African folk tales. (except for Charlotte's Web). Our thanks go out to the Ithaca group who got a suit case full of African stories to us for the school library. Trying hard not to make this a little American colony and attempting to honor in some way Zambian culture, I read as much as I can of African material to them. Stories of children who's main relationship seems to be with a TV set and cell phone and a room so full of material things that they can't deal with it, who eat cookies, junk food, soda and pizza and hang out at the mall are not what I think they need to hear about.
Zambian Weather
Seems we've run out of what I can the Zambian Tourist Weather. I has gotten cold. How can I say that, having been raised on the frigid plains of eastern Montana; and having gone to school in the Rocky Mountains further west? Cold for me starts somewhere below zero. Why here its gotten down as low as 13 deg. C. Seems that's about 58 deg. F. Surely one can't call that cold. Well, not if you are living in a heated fairly tight house, and travel in a heated car and visit other places that are thermostatically controlled then that's not cold. Here if the temperature is 58 deg. F that is the temperature everywhere. In your bedroom, in the shower, in the kitchen, in the classroom, you can't avoid it and it will eventually, especially if you are confined to a classroom and desk, come creeping, seeping into your bones. Your hands will be cold and can only be warmed by holding a cup of tea. But you can only drink so much tea...
So we complain about the cold. The Zambians complain about the cold, as you would expect. They don't get much fluctuation in temperature throughout the year. But what you wouldn't expect what their reaction to it is. We do get some radiant energy from the sun and my class room has a hint of warmth in it on sunny days. I keep the windows and the door closed despite a stream of kids coming in because my room is a little warm. They never think to close the door, will go to the window and open it just to look outside. Any heat I started with would be gone in a few minutes if I did not countermand this behavior. Well they're just oblivious teens, after all.
But when I go to the teacher's lunch room, what do I find, everyone shivering with the door and window open and a heady breeze blowing through and each complaining about the weather. What is this, I demand (all my cultural sensitive out the window with any hint of heat). If you are cold, why not keep the warmth we have? They look at one another, shrugging their shoulders, and one says, I guess we just like the fresh air. Ah, just another of the unexplained African mysteries.
House 7 report
House 7 is being plastered inside and undergoing such finishing work. It is a new presence on the street of houses in our little village. I have enjoyed the reflected moon light off the new corrugated metal roof these past few evenings on my way home after supper/reading.
You Get July 4th.
Well I got to go to a wedding on the 4th, full report to follow. Then on Monday 6th is a holiday here: Hero's Day (none of my kids could name a hero to be remember on this day). And while we are still in the mood (mode), Tuesday is another holiday: Unity Day. So back to school on Wednesday.
I was invited to a wedding on Saturday afternoon. The schedule of events worked out that I got to have a meal with Phillip and Maria and their 4 month old son, Shebach, in their home. Shebach provides sufficient entertainment that neither parent needed to be there to keep me happy. Good company, good food. Oh, and I saw a little tv, had forgotten what that is like.
The church in which the wedding was being performed had moved to their current location, but have not yet be able to put up a new building. So they are using a large blue and white tent with the internal, up to date appointments you'd find in any church building here: sound system (two lap tops, a PC, five microphones, Beringer mixer with a square yard or so of dials and slides, large paired speakers and monitor [we go for the sound and the Spirit here]), Yamaha keyboard, fancy lectern, stone floor, seats and benches. I know I am suppose to mention the orange roses in perfusion and gold and yellow ribbon, bows and fabric hangings (you can tell don't even know the vocabulary). The brides gown was white and she had a bouquet, there! The weather cooperated so temperatures were comfortable.
As the crowd gathered, I gradually became aware that there was only one muzungu (non-African) present. What made this most obvious was the line of about 6 young children (4 to 6 years old) seated at right angle to me who enjoyed staring. I didn't help things much by smiling at them and imitating their gestures, the most common of which is putting hands up to your face and almost covering up your eyes, but not quite and then turning away.
The service was to start at 2 pm. The groom arrived early. At 2:30, no bride, groom stressed, young children enjoying the silly muzungu. At 2:50 bride arrives, if you didn't know, the car horns and ululations were a good hint. The Bishop who will perform the ceremony (older brother of the groom) comes in and warms up the microphone and attendees. He introduces an unusual number of ministers, perhaps 8 for which special seating was provided, each had a role to play. The numbers were due in part to the fact that the Bishop is a bishop and his father, a minister was the guest of honor. The first sign that were we seriously about getting started, was that an attendant wipes down the lecture, a modern glass and chrome tubing structure.
At 3 pm we are underway with a prayer. The entire service was enjoyable and fun. The wedding party danced in. (oh, I forgot the pre-wedding rehearsals, not what you think). For months before the service the wedding party has been rehearsing weekly up to the last weeks when rehearsals become daily. Why? Because to be in the wedding party means that you must dance like a professional! Your wedding planner is also a choreographer and dance instructor. Back to the wedding ceremony. Well, suffice to say that each minister offered a word of advice and/or a prayer. Nothing too heavy except that the groom should have a vision or goal. If you should marry a man who is going no where, that is just where you will wind up. To me this advice was a little late in coming since they were half way to saying their vows and gone though an unusually long awkward period waiting for anyone to speak up as to why these two should not be married and then again while we waited to see if either of the couple had any reservations about the impending union. Several times it seem to be stated that divorce was not an option.
Must mention that the groom was told to be sensitive to the goals that his wife has, things that she has set to do for herself, before he proposed and she said yes.
I learned during the service and it was hard to miss, that the bride and groom were from different tribes. Thandie is a Tonga and Joshua a Bemba. Many jokes about misunderstood remarks between Tonga and Bemba's because of the similar sounding words with wildly different meanings. The Bishop told of his experience, marrying a woman from another tribe and feeling that he should know that language better, had begun to study it. Showing off to his mother-in-law he used a phrase in relation to her family which he took to mean something like "birds of a feather flock together" however a more literal translation is: those who spend time with folk suffering from diarrhea are apt to suffer from it as well!" When she made it clear what he'd said, he left quickly.
There was the exchange of vows and rings. The new husband was asked to unveil his wife and then demonstrate his affection so he very slowly and meticulously rolled it back off her head and kissed the bride. We were all asked if we had seen that, everyone to a person answered NO, a repeat performance, same question, same answer and another kiss.
Wedding party danced out, and the service was over at 5 pm. Have a feeling it might have gone longer, but the facility was needed for another function.
The reception was some kms and hours away in another church hall. This was fun, much dancing, displaying what months of rehearsals can do to 8 attendants and the couple. Dancing in Africa is not dancing unless a part of it at least is competitive, between the couples, between the males and between the females.
It was at the reception the over abundance of ministers started to overburden the affair from my perspective. It seemed the preaching wasn't preaching unless it was competitive. Of course the oldest minister and guest of honor had the last and the longest words, he finally said Amen and sat down, the MC gets up to wind things up when the Guest of Honor has one more word, one more charge from above which he had neglected earlier. Seems he has a sum of money is mind that should be collected and with many reminders that we would all receive more if we would only give more (when asked) and a couple of large plastic lids where passed to help finance the honeymoon. The old man said he didn't want the couple to call the Bishop in a couple days asking for money to get home. The sum of money was not quite enough, so the lids came round again.
At this point I get the high sign from Phillip and Maria and we were outa there. Only made one really bad gaff. My hand delivered invitation was so nice that I immediately made it a part of my daily log. It seems that I should have surrendered it at the door of the reception, but no one, I guess, was going to stop this old, odd looking, out of place man and hassle him for it. I walked in unscathed.
This is Sam Weeks with an invitation to next Weeks' blog and you can keep it!
Again the children are not used to a story reading session after the meal and don't quite seem to know what to make of it. Sometimes I start with what looks to be the youngest about 3 in number and as I read the group grows in numbers and in age. I have them select the books and bring me the ones they want to hear. At this cold season of the year with short days and long nights, it is an old tradition to sit around the fire and listen to stories. We lack two things, the fire and the story teller. We sit indoors and listen to stories being read. In house 1, I read almost exclusively African folk tales. (except for Charlotte's Web). Our thanks go out to the Ithaca group who got a suit case full of African stories to us for the school library. Trying hard not to make this a little American colony and attempting to honor in some way Zambian culture, I read as much as I can of African material to them. Stories of children who's main relationship seems to be with a TV set and cell phone and a room so full of material things that they can't deal with it, who eat cookies, junk food, soda and pizza and hang out at the mall are not what I think they need to hear about.
Zambian Weather
Seems we've run out of what I can the Zambian Tourist Weather. I has gotten cold. How can I say that, having been raised on the frigid plains of eastern Montana; and having gone to school in the Rocky Mountains further west? Cold for me starts somewhere below zero. Why here its gotten down as low as 13 deg. C. Seems that's about 58 deg. F. Surely one can't call that cold. Well, not if you are living in a heated fairly tight house, and travel in a heated car and visit other places that are thermostatically controlled then that's not cold. Here if the temperature is 58 deg. F that is the temperature everywhere. In your bedroom, in the shower, in the kitchen, in the classroom, you can't avoid it and it will eventually, especially if you are confined to a classroom and desk, come creeping, seeping into your bones. Your hands will be cold and can only be warmed by holding a cup of tea. But you can only drink so much tea...
So we complain about the cold. The Zambians complain about the cold, as you would expect. They don't get much fluctuation in temperature throughout the year. But what you wouldn't expect what their reaction to it is. We do get some radiant energy from the sun and my class room has a hint of warmth in it on sunny days. I keep the windows and the door closed despite a stream of kids coming in because my room is a little warm. They never think to close the door, will go to the window and open it just to look outside. Any heat I started with would be gone in a few minutes if I did not countermand this behavior. Well they're just oblivious teens, after all.
But when I go to the teacher's lunch room, what do I find, everyone shivering with the door and window open and a heady breeze blowing through and each complaining about the weather. What is this, I demand (all my cultural sensitive out the window with any hint of heat). If you are cold, why not keep the warmth we have? They look at one another, shrugging their shoulders, and one says, I guess we just like the fresh air. Ah, just another of the unexplained African mysteries.
House 7 report
House 7 is being plastered inside and undergoing such finishing work. It is a new presence on the street of houses in our little village. I have enjoyed the reflected moon light off the new corrugated metal roof these past few evenings on my way home after supper/reading.
You Get July 4th.
Well I got to go to a wedding on the 4th, full report to follow. Then on Monday 6th is a holiday here: Hero's Day (none of my kids could name a hero to be remember on this day). And while we are still in the mood (mode), Tuesday is another holiday: Unity Day. So back to school on Wednesday.
A Equipment for the School
This week, Phillip brought back from Lusaka a beautiful box. This was something very special. It contained the first piece of equipment beyond pen and paper, for the school, a real copy machine. And this was not JUST a copier, but an accessory to our promised computer: a Printer and a Scanner. So when our computer arrives we will almost be working in this century, which ever one this is? Our computer, if it should have internet abilities, will allow us to do those functions demonstrated nicely by Mamie Spillane when she was here, down loading useful teaching tools/aids and we won't need someone to come from the US to do it for us on the busy Chishawasha office systems.
The Wedding
I was invited to a wedding on Saturday afternoon. The schedule of events worked out that I got to have a meal with Phillip and Maria and their 4 month old son, Shebach, in their home. Shebach provides sufficient entertainment that neither parent needed to be there to keep me happy. Good company, good food. Oh, and I saw a little tv, had forgotten what that is like.
The church in which the wedding was being performed had moved to their current location, but have not yet be able to put up a new building. So they are using a large blue and white tent with the internal, up to date appointments you'd find in any church building here: sound system (two lap tops, a PC, five microphones, Beringer mixer with a square yard or so of dials and slides, large paired speakers and monitor [we go for the sound and the Spirit here]), Yamaha keyboard, fancy lectern, stone floor, seats and benches. I know I am suppose to mention the orange roses in perfusion and gold and yellow ribbon, bows and fabric hangings (you can tell don't even know the vocabulary). The brides gown was white and she had a bouquet, there! The weather cooperated so temperatures were comfortable.
As the crowd gathered, I gradually became aware that there was only one muzungu (non-African) present. What made this most obvious was the line of about 6 young children (4 to 6 years old) seated at right angle to me who enjoyed staring. I didn't help things much by smiling at them and imitating their gestures, the most common of which is putting hands up to your face and almost covering up your eyes, but not quite and then turning away.
The service was to start at 2 pm. The groom arrived early. At 2:30, no bride, groom stressed, young children enjoying the silly muzungu. At 2:50 bride arrives, if you didn't know, the car horns and ululations were a good hint. The Bishop who will perform the ceremony (older brother of the groom) comes in and warms up the microphone and attendees. He introduces an unusual number of ministers, perhaps 8 for which special seating was provided, each had a role to play. The numbers were due in part to the fact that the Bishop is a bishop and his father, a minister was the guest of honor. The first sign that were we seriously about getting started, was that an attendant wipes down the lecture, a modern glass and chrome tubing structure.
At 3 pm we are underway with a prayer. The entire service was enjoyable and fun. The wedding party danced in. (oh, I forgot the pre-wedding rehearsals, not what you think). For months before the service the wedding party has been rehearsing weekly up to the last weeks when rehearsals become daily. Why? Because to be in the wedding party means that you must dance like a professional! Your wedding planner is also a choreographer and dance instructor. Back to the wedding ceremony. Well, suffice to say that each minister offered a word of advice and/or a prayer. Nothing too heavy except that the groom should have a vision or goal. If you should marry a man who is going no where, that is just where you will wind up. To me this advice was a little late in coming since they were half way to saying their vows and gone though an unusually long awkward period waiting for anyone to speak up as to why these two should not be married and then again while we waited to see if either of the couple had any reservations about the impending union. Several times it seem to be stated that divorce was not an option.
Must mention that the groom was told to be sensitive to the goals that his wife has, things that she has set to do for herself, before he proposed and she said yes.
I learned during the service and it was hard to miss, that the bride and groom were from different tribes. Thandie is a Tonga and Joshua a Bemba. Many jokes about misunderstood remarks between Tonga and Bemba's because of the similar sounding words with wildly different meanings. The Bishop told of his experience, marrying a woman from another tribe and feeling that he should know that language better, had begun to study it. Showing off to his mother-in-law he used a phrase in relation to her family which he took to mean something like "birds of a feather flock together" however a more literal translation is: those who spend time with folk suffering from diarrhea are apt to suffer from it as well!" When she made it clear what he'd said, he left quickly.
There was the exchange of vows and rings. The new husband was asked to unveil his wife and then demonstrate his affection so he very slowly and meticulously rolled it back off her head and kissed the bride. We were all asked if we had seen that, everyone to a person answered NO, a repeat performance, same question, same answer and another kiss.
Wedding party danced out, and the service was over at 5 pm. Have a feeling it might have gone longer, but the facility was needed for another function.
The reception was some kms and hours away in another church hall. This was fun, much dancing, displaying what months of rehearsals can do to 8 attendants and the couple. Dancing in Africa is not dancing unless a part of it at least is competitive, between the couples, between the males and between the females.
It was at the reception the over abundance of ministers started to overburden the affair from my perspective. It seemed the preaching wasn't preaching unless it was competitive. Of course the oldest minister and guest of honor had the last and the longest words, he finally said Amen and sat down, the MC gets up to wind things up when the Guest of Honor has one more word, one more charge from above which he had neglected earlier. Seems he has a sum of money is mind that should be collected and with many reminders that we would all receive more if we would only give more (when asked) and a couple of large plastic lids where passed to help finance the honeymoon. The old man said he didn't want the couple to call the Bishop in a couple days asking for money to get home. The sum of money was not quite enough, so the lids came round again.
At this point I get the high sign from Phillip and Maria and we were outa there. Only made one really bad gaff. My hand delivered invitation was so nice that I immediately made it a part of my daily log. It seems that I should have surrendered it at the door of the reception, but no one, I guess, was going to stop this old, odd looking, out of place man and hassle him for it. I walked in unscathed.
This is Sam Weeks with an invitation to next Weeks' blog and you can keep it!
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