Tanzania Blog July 27th

By the end of the school day on Tuesday, I had begun to observe some differences between LOAMO School and educational practices of the U.S.A. When thinking of a developing country like Tanzania, one would not first think about well-dressed people, but that is exactly what you get in Tanzania. I have to say, I was embarrassed of my outfit when I first saw the teachers and students. The male teachers wear nice pants with dress shirts underneath patterned sweaters. The female teachers wear long skirts, nice shirts, and cardigans/sweaters with colorful scarves. Meanwhile, there I was, with my khakis and plain old polo shirt. I wish to impress the teachers with my teaching, but I know that it must start with the way I present myself. As a side note, I must also mention that Mr. Geoffrey, a teacher, wore a bright blue and black suit that he actually rocked. The students all wear grey pants or skirts with grey button-down shirts and red ties, finally topped off with blue sweaters.

Obviously, the school mandates the student’s uniforms, but it’s not just the uniforms that amaze me. Every single student from kinder to class 7 hasn’t a speck of dirt on their pants. Not a single student has a messed up collar. To me this sends a loud, clear message. I hear the 316 students saying how proud they are to be getting an education. We cannot begin to comprehend how important school is to these students. I think back to school at home, and I realize how ungrateful my generation is. We show up to school in sweatpants, short-shorts, tank-tops, and other clothing that says “I don’t really care to be here.” It makes me sad that our society is this way, but the LOAMO school inspires me and fills me with the drive to be the change I wish to see in the world, as Mahatma Ghandi professed, even if it is just dressing proudly.

            In every one’s life, there are the epiphanies, the “a-ha” moment when the paradigm shifts. As is the purpose, my experiences with CGA have brought many of these moments, regarding the world, poverty, society, etc. On Tuesday, I had a very enlightening       “a-ha” moment. The way that the preparatory class schedule works is such that the last two and a half hours of the day are dedicated to games/songs/stories either outside or inside. Tuesday’s outside time began well enough, but when my teacher gave Finn and me the reigns to the sea of 70+ children, I panicked and had no idea what to do. Still scared, we made a weak attempt to teach them a song. I was embarrassed like most people would be standing in front of others singing about funky chicken, but this is when I made the breakthrough. I realized, and not without a thanks to Karlie, that it wasn’t working because we weren’t into it. I discovered how incredibly important the teacher’s energy is, not just for my class at LOAMO in Arusha, Tanzania, but for education as a whole. As a teacher, I have to be the most overly absurd, excessively energetic person in the room. I have to put aside any personal fears or humiliation and just go “full send.” My dad is a 5^th grade teacher at Red Hill Elementary School in Gypsum. Every Friday he dresses up in a tie-dye shirt, a Green Bay Packer cheese tie, and some kind of weird pants. It confused me a little bit until I had my breakthrough on Tuesday. Now, I completely get it. If he is not excited at school, how can he expect his students to be excited? If his students aren’t excited, how can anyone expect them to learn? With this new realization, I feel that I may be getting closer to achieving the goal I had set earlier this week.

At LOAMO, there is rarely a kid who does not smile or laugh all day. But behind these smiling faces are stories of hardship and struggling to survive in a country where the average income per day is $2.50 USD. On Wednesday afternoon, I went on a home visit to hear the unique and tragic story of two of LOAMO’s students. Enock and Ebenezer are brothers in class 3, Enock, 13 years old and Ebenezer, 14.  From what I hear, they are both exceptional students, but they are quiet and have nothing about them that implies a rough home life. However, when we walked into the twelve-by-twelve foot room that was their house, it was clear that they had it harder than most of us can even imagine. No running water, no electricity, no bathrooms. Only a bed, a couch a table, some dishes, and a small kerosene stove.

Their father is living some 300 km way, leaving them only with their loving mother, Lillian. It is hard, though, to care for your children when you are 100% blind. Yes, Enock and Ebenezer’s mother is completely blind. Blinded by a disease at the age of two, she got a primary school education (up to class 7), and continued to live on the same street until she met the boys’ father. Soon after the boys were born, the father left them, only to come back to take them away ant the ages of three and four. He raised the boys as cow herders, with-holding them from an education, and beating them if they so much as mentioned school.  Seven years later, they returned to their mother and lost all contact with their father. As one might expect, their mother has not been able to get a job, and the boys are not old enough to work. Where do they get money? The only way they survive is by the generosity of the rare passerby or friends from their church. The boys are fed at school and their mother makes dinner when she can. For this family, having food is as uncertain as the weather. It crushes my heart to think about how hungry they must be for almost the entirety of their lives, but no one hears a peep out of them. So the next time you feel that the odds are stacked against you, think about Enock and Ebenezer and their silent fight against starvation while they continue their education.

In this past week at LOAMO school, I have seen my confidence soar, met new and interesting people, and been bought down to Earth by the horrible realities of the world. At the beginning of the week, I said I wanted to end each day with excited and happy students. With a new-found attitude, I find this easier to do, but I know I can still improve. I also said I wanted to make connection. In keeping with this, I’ve worked up the courage to listen, ask questions and listen to the stories of a few of the teachers, and I am still looking to start long-lasting friendships. This week, though I have been doing the teaching, I feel I have been the one learning.