On Friday we got a taste of the Kenyan education system when we were all tossed into our own classroom with seemingly simple directions: "teach English." Now we've all graduated high school English, each at a different level, but we speak it so we naturally assumed that we could pass on some of that information to the youngsters at St. Annes Academy in downtown Chebilat. When I was 12, my grandmother taught a little phrase about what happens when one assumes anything ... clearly I didn't take it to heart. We were given a lesson book, two pieces of chalk, and a pat on the head before we were sent into the fray.
Our experiences in the classroom varied but we found several things in common: they don't have their own books to look out of, the chalkboards are the texture of heavy sandpaper, and we haven't the foggiest idea how to teach, despite our 13+ years watching our own teachers pass on their knowledge. On the bright side though, a few did know English well enough to help the others along, and the cadets were very well disciplined, a fact i am attributing largely to corporal punishment (an institution whose evil I've been taught all my life but am beginning to rethink). We each taught a different level, the ages of which don't necessarily correspond to their American counterparts. Taylor had the privilege of enlightening level four, Colin had five, Stefan six and I trained level seven, with about five students in each level. We all found that the books we were given to teach with were slightly over the heads of its target audience, and that its difficult to explain a language in the language one is trying to explain. We all had different levels of success. My level seven students were able to grasp the concept of making nouns and verbs into adjectives using the suffix -ful quite well, though imperatives were a bit too much for Colin's kids and Stefan's all stared at him blankly for an hour as he tried, among other things, to explain what a veranda is using Swahili.
In the end I think we all learned more about teaching than they did about English, but it was an adventure that we'll laugh about in a few years. After teaching we went out back to a big field for game time with them, where the students were called together to sing an adorable little welcome song for us which included the lyrics "welcome to our sisters" (with the kenyan accent, the words 'sisters' and 'visitors' sound very similar). After our official welcome we all took our shoes off and the teacher divided the students for a game of futbol.
And there we played, on the fields of St. Annes Academy, 30 waafricani and their two wazungu against 30 more waafricani and their own two wazungu. The mass of screaming, jubilant children swarming the ball as it made its way all over the large open space made for a wonderful spectacle, which is largely what it was for us, since we'd have had to push and shove to get to the ball. Under the ominous daily rain clouds, which arrived right on time, we scampered after the mass, occasionally getting a touch in, though more often running around, holding a child's hand on each side, laughing and together enjoying the wonderful feeling of the coming storm and soft grass under our bare feet. The whole afternoon was a wonderful time of interaction between these beautiful Kenyan kids and our YES team. We built many new relationships which we look forward to developing over the next few months.
Praises: -the discovery of large, cheap mangos
-answered prayers in the healing of a sick girl from the congregation
-wise leadership within the church
Requests: -continued healing for Colin's sickness
-timely and effective resolution to conflict within the congregation
-continued growth of the young church here in Chebilat
Thanks and God bless.
Lovin' Him,
Brook
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