lots about school

A few days ago I went to a local college’s graduation ceremony- Admas University. I was told this was the most festive celebration that the tenured Americans had been to. There were a bunch of speeches from various ministers, clapping and music. Maybe 200 graduates? Many graduated with “very very distinction” earning them a medal. The valedictorian was awarded a very large trophy and did a little celebration shake. At the end, there was music, everyone was clapping and some people even moved the arms to the rhythm. For a country and culture that does not believe in any type of celebration or dancing, this was quite the scene.

Universities here are a profit driven business (clearly a big distinction from those in the US). Only about two are decent, and even those graduates are less educated (on average) than the secondary school students who will graduate from our program. Most anyone can get into the universities and, from what I hear, the classes are a joke. Three teachers that came to teach at this particular university have since transferred to AbaarsoTech (our school) because the quality of students and quality of education at AT are so much better than at the universities.

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Today, right now actually, Kenai is in his first day of village school. This is super fabulous. He has missed the structure of school and is super excited to be here. Really!! It’s great to see him back in his groove. He is such a patient child and put up with a lot of transition and adults in the last month. And for this, I am very grateful to him. Admittedly, and not surprisingly, I was not the best at keeping a structure and home schooling him. School for him right now is great!

There are about 12 boys in this class, including Kenai, and 8 girls. Of course, they are sitting on opposite sides of the class. From what I could tell, the first class of the day was Arabic. Kenai was learning the alphabet, and other students vocab words such as whale, shoes and bird. It was a combination of Somali, Arabic and English. English just for our sake I think. The students in this class range from Kenai looking like the youngest to about 9 or 10 I would guess. I am bad at guessing age, and no one here really keeps track of that. White buttons downs and khaki’s are the boys’ uniforms.

Naturally, we are a novelty. After an hour in the classroom, I do not think we are a distraction anymore. It’s now Somali class, I think. The teacher wrote a bunch of words on the board and I think the students are supposed to be copying them. The teacher just wanders in and out of the room, stopping to talk to me in the rotation. The students are staying in the same classroom, but the teachers seem to be moving about. During Arabic, when the teacher left, one girl got up front and made a little song with the vocab words. The others repeated the song. This went on with the same three words from about 5 minutes. It was beautiful!

During the hour long break in the four hour total school day, which also started an hour late from what I can tell, we walked into the ‘downtown’ of the village. Speaking with the English teacher, whose English really is subpar even for a Somali, Kenai told him that we were going to be here three or four days a week for a year, maybe two, or maybe for the rest of our lives. We just were not sure yet.

In the village, we snacked at one of the huts. I had hot sugar with a little bit of tea, Kenai had fresh guava juice, fully sugared as well, and two samboosas (kind of like an egg roll or samosa, but triangular and with goat). All of that cost about $.25 I think. And the kid running the operation behind the counter had to be about 13 at most. Kenai, however, announced that these were the best samboosas he has had yet! And he wants it to be his snack everyday; maybe we should even get breakfast there.

We, especially him, are a novelty. This is expected, and K handles it very well. Someone asked him ‘where do you come from?’ Kenai replied ‘Abaarso. We walked here.’ Love it!! He was the center of the herd and holding his own quite well on the walk back to class.

There are two or three kids whose English is quite impressive! Complete sentences, beyond ‘how are you?’ That is impressive. I imagine if we are coming here regularly, I will start teaching, or assisting with some of the English and math classes. It is great to sit in on the Somali and Arabic though. I think this may be my only hope for learning the language. I too wrote down everything that was on the board and hope to get help translating and practicing it all tonight.

This is good. I am happy in the village and at this school. Kenai has his mojo back too. The folks are great and just engaging K in some school routine is great. Today is a good day, and it is not even noon yet.
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Day two of school: similar to the first day. We are in math class right now. Kenai got a round of applause for adding 2+4. Aye. At least the basic math review is hopefully engraining the Somali numbers into his head. The worksheets I brought should also supplement this decently. I think there is one teacher for every two classrooms. When the teacher is away, the kids are relatively well behaved, but clearly not engaged in any kind of learning. It is quite sad and disappointing. What is needed - more teachers? Better teachers? Aides? This is just the way it is? Some of the kids were sharpening their pencils with a razor blade. Now, two younger ones are playing catch with it. I am going to presume it is not sharp in anyway…. Im also very tempted to continue this math lesson while the teacher is away. Maybe next time. I want to sit back and observe for a while before inserting myself.

I just consulted Kenai about going up there and teaching fact families. ‘Yes mom. Go up and teach. But do I have to listen to you too?’ (I taught addition and subtraction. when the teacher came back, he brought another teacher with to watch me, leaving four teacherless classrooms).

Walking back from break today, I felt like the lead fish in a school of sardines. We were walking down the street in town and the usual crowd of kids was following. We turned, they turned. School was the final destination and we were clearly walking the wrong way (Kenai being the leader). When I redirected him, the school of fish followed. The fun part was they were all in uniform and for sure knew where the school was. It was a game for all involved.

The school director also invited us back to his house one day this week to pick some fruit. Im looking forward to that! Operation learn the language and integrate into the village is underway!

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The kids (secondary/ high schoolers) are back in school! The week before their arrival Kenai, J (school director) and myself went to one of the students homes for lunch. It started off fabulously. The social crowd was the student and the three of us. We said hello to her mother and siblings, but then they disappeared. We talked for a bit then ate a ridiculously enormous lunch of rice, pasta, grilled fish, some type of meat falafel, a wonderful fish in an eggplant sauce, goat, salad, and fruit. Custard for dessert. The eggplant fish was amazing!! I did not eat any goat, but graciously ate way more than my share of the rest. Oye. After lunch, we sat in the living room. Loved it!! Great, deep red and gold colors. Low couches with pillows lining all of the walls. A nice open space in the middle with a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Do not think there was a coffee table, but there may have been. It was simple, very warm, and very cozy. I hope to recreate that room in my house someday.
As we were enjoying each others company and resting our bellies, Kenai melted. He was inappropriately playing with the pillows and cushions, kicking them across the room, and talking about how miserable his life was. It was a lovely first impression for the student, let me tell you. Despite making him sit next to me, and then leave the room, this continued for a good half hour. Fabulous. Those are hard parenting moments- when beating the child is clearly unacceptable, yet sitting there patiently is equally horrifying.
Then, when he felt he was heard, he went back to being a perfect little angel. Aye child.