Monday Surprises

I came home after a long, long Monday today to find this on my doorstep:



My Monday wasn't even in need of Real Brightening, it was just a Monday, but this made so much of a difference!!

Three Cheers for Mom!

Bible Trivia Extra Credit:

Who was the first farmer recorded in the Bible as becoming drunk?

update

It's now 3:13 a.m. I woke up in a cold sweat about an hour ago, with my stomach literally in pain from anxiety about school tomorrow.

One of the first year teachers told me this happened to him while he was student teaching. I guess it's normal.

Meanwhile, I'm too tired to do anything productive. I'm too stressed out to sleep. I'm too mad at my students to stop thinking. Oh well. Here I am.

UPDATE: (3:17 p.m.) We had a serious chat about my behavior expectations and consequences today. They are remarkably reasonable (I think) and will train them in life skills that will help them keep a job (for example, not shouting across the room while your boss is giving a presentation or not texting during work meetings, etc). Class went much better, despite my nausea and beginnings of an ulcer that I've felt all day. All of my students were alive when they left 4th period today. One was sans cell phone, but that's his own fault. He had to negotiate it back from the principal. He knew the rule. And broke it. Twice. The consequence I promised ensued. He got mad, but not mad enough to get written up for that too. He did choose to sign the non-participation discipline referral instead of doing his work, though. Whatever. Moral of the story: I survived. they did too.

Letter of Explanation

Dear Mr. Principal,

Thank you for expressing your concern regarding my mental and emotional health. I assure you I have never felt such a burden lifted as I do today. Please allow me to explain the somewhat mysterious circumstances surrounding my recent arrest, as I am sure you must be curious.

As you know, fourth period English class is quite a challenge. Twenty-three seventeen year old male students should be reconsidered as a general educational principle. Especially when those students a)chronically fail English (and all) classes, and b) are put in a class with a young, female student teacher. They tested the boundaries of my patience, my normally extensive patience, and I thought carefully through my options. After much deliberation, I decided in a lucid and rational state of mind, to impose certain consequences for their misbehavior. The consequence for a first infraction would be a calm verbal warning. A second offense would result in being forcibly thrown out the second story window.

This strategy worked delightfully. Once the offending students were removed, in a manner most thoroughly therapeutic for the student teacher, the classroom became an apex of hard working diligence, respect, and obedience. Granted, the class size has been reduced to the four female students and six remaining male students, but I believe that is sound educational practice anyway.

I will pay for the window.

Sincerely,

Miss Student Teacher

running away

It's a dreary 35 degrees and raining. I've been working on schoolwork all day, with very little to show for it. I want to go here: http://www.lonelyplanet.com/worldguide/destinations/pacific/fiji.

Please?

Photos from the girls' home

Sometimes ...

... It's just a spaceship onesie kinda night.

Faith Christian Academy

I spent almost every day at Faith Christian Academy, a K-12 private school in Mtsiliza. We spent the first week just observing - there was a lot to take in. On a superficial level, the classrooms had dirt or broken cement floors and were lit by the open doorway and window holes. The tin roofs also let in some light and rain in places, but when it rained you couldn't hear anything anyway, so the dripping didn't matter so much. Most students had desks, although some had to share benches in the back. Classrooms held anywhere from 12 to 49 students.

Students came to school carrying their exercise notebooks (paper folded in half and stapled) and pens in plastic tourist bags. They study 11 subjects total: Math, Science, Chichewa, English, Social Studies, History, Agriculture, and Bible Knowledge are the ones I remember. When they have a question, the students approach the teacher, kneel on the ground, and say, "madam?" When the teacher deigns to look down and excuse the student to the restroom, the student runs out.

The style of education is largely direct instruction, resulting from the influence of Dr. Livingstone. He instituted a British-style education system in Malawi in the mid-1800s, and it's stuck. The teacher lectures, the students listen and take notes. The teacher asks questions, the student answers them. The government issues exams, the students take them and either advance to the next grade or repeat the grade.

After observing various classes, mostly secondary level, for a week, Nichole and I started planning a teacher workshop. Being a mere student teacher, this may seem a little presumptuous. It definitely felt weird. But because FCA is a private school, the teachers don't need certification, and most of them have had no teacher training. We've been drowning in teacher training for the last seven months. So we just make a workshop to show them some stuff that we've learned about making sure students know what's going on, different assessments, and how to plan lessons.

Our last week, we did soe English/literacy lessons for the elementary students. The best quotes from that time: When we walked into the the fifth grade, the teacher said, "Ok, class, now the white people are going to teach." And the class yelled, "Yay, foreigners!" That particular class was a little rough though - 49 kids, 10-15 years old, hot day. The lesson had to be translated because that was only their second year of English instruction.

On our last day, a teacher brought us around to the form classes to say a formal goodbye, and the teacher tried to teach the students to say, "Go in peace." In two of the classes it came out, "Go in pieces!"

During the morning break, if the students are hungry and can afford it, a line of vendors selling snacks were right outside the school. The doughnuts and popcorn were pretty yummy. We didn't try the meat-filled pastries (meat = bad idea) or fried cassava.

Current Mary News

I had a good day at school - the first Really Good one since I've been back. I'm phasing into student teaching (= taking over more and more of each period or each day until I'm doing it all), and today I taught a lot of Spanish. It went so well - first period was kind of iffy. When I'm nervous I'm a lot less fun. But by third period I was on a roll - I ended the class laughing and with a Teacher High I'd never had before. The kind when everything's gone right and I feel good and the kids feel good and the lesson went well and we even snuck in some school in there. It was nice to actually feel like a teacher instead of Some Big Fake.

The high lasted until about twenty minutes ago, and now I'm fighting off a bout of Loneliness. It's hard to come home after being gone for a month and feel like all of a sudden I only have two friends and they're both working. It's hard to talk to a group of people at church and be the only person not invited by name to a get together. It's also hard to reach out and love other people (instead of being stuck in this marycentric attitude) when I don't feel like anyone really wants to talk to me anyway.

I know part of it is still adjusting to America again. We live in a culture that values Independence, Individualism, and Rights. I prefer those things to be balanced with a little more Community, Service, and Responsibility. Part of recovering from trips like this is feeling lonely, but I wonder how much is me recovering, how much is perceived, and how much is valid.

Baby Stepping to the Elevator

I'm not adjusting well. Mostly, I wish there were more sunshine and warmth here. I'm not doing terribly, but it's turning out to be a rougher transition than I anticipated. So I think I'll try a little blog therapy and tell you about where on earth I was all month. With pictures (hurray! I love pictures!).

Mtsiliza:

Every day, the lovely Mel or Amy carted us off to Faith Christian Academy in a village called Mtsiliza. It was only about a 15 minute trek, but it was packed full of sensory delights. People sold mangos, roasted maize, coal, wood, fried mice on a stick, tomatoes and other items on the side of the road - even the side of the highway. A pile of garbage or plantlife usually burned somewhere by the road. The rainy season infused broad-leafed green life over everything that wasn't the packed red dirt or tarmac, and maize or tobacco fields stretched out to the horizon. We turned into the bumpy dirt road leading to the village sometimes at our peril; if it had been raining for an entire day the mud was as slippery as Spokane slush, and the van could easily get stuck in a ditch filled with miscellaneous trash and sewage.

People walked and biked down the road, usually carrying something impossibly heavy or awkward with grace. While the men usually sold produce or other goods on the sides of the roads, the women were usually engaged in some kind of manual labor. They either carried large buckets of water on their head and a bag of produce in their hands with a baby strapped to their backs, or were in their yards scrubbing pots with dirt and water, washing clothes, or stirring nsima in their outdoor kitchen. The children who couldn't afford school ran out at the van and yelled, "Foreigners! Foreigners!" waving wildly.

No electricity. They pumped water to bring it home in buckets. Flies jumping from children's faces to open sores on the mangy dogs to the corn drying on mats. Holes in the ground for toilets.

Roughly 40% of the people in Mtsiliza are HIV positive. Roughly 1 in 4 children die before the age of five. So many babies are stillborn that it is culturally taboo to talk about a woman being pregnant until she gives birth.



This was the village in which I worked, attended church, ate meals, and developed relationships.


Here we met the group of widows I posted about earlier, who are learning how to knit, crochet, sew, and embroider so they can support their families (some have as many as 10 children). These widows took us in and embraced us with a joy I have never seen before.


Here 400 children lined up for lunch provided by Children of the Nations. For some of them it was their only meal.

Here a group of young boys tried to give us a drum lesson. They were very enthusiastic, but their rhythms were a little too quick and complicated for me.

Here we met the girls in the Girls' Home. I'll have to talk about them more later. They deserve their own post.



That's all I've got for tonight.

ugh

it's 12:10 a.m. on a school night (school morning?). i got over being tired a few hours ago. i mean, i'm still absolutely wiped out, but i'm don't think i can sleep. i may be self-sabotaging so that i'll get sick and be able to miss some school. hmm... probably not my best strategy.

i'll try to get out of my i-don't-want-to-communicate-with-anyone-or-do-anything-except-sit-here rut soon.