I was recently coming back from a trip to Gayaza (outside of Kampala). I decided to take the first taxi I could flag down heading to Mbale. Surprisingly, this took less than two minutes to accomplish.
Unfortunately, inside this taxi, there was a man talking in a volume so loud he was basically shouting. He was literally having a conversation with about one or two other Ugandans. But for some reason, he felt the need to speak in a tone audible enough to disturb the entire taxi and those surrounding it outside as well. Nobody says anything or seems to mind. It’s an interesting microcosm of human behavior here.
I put up with this racket for about half of an hour and then decided to exit the taxi and try my luck at hitchhiking (which is a fantastically successful and surprisingly safe idea for the frugal PCV to undertake most times in this country). I paid the taxi conductor 3,000 shillings and left the taxi.
Of course, leave it to me to get out at one of the deadest stretches of highway between Kampala and Jinja. After several failed attempts to flag down some 18-wheelers, I decided to take another taxi. I flagged down the next one that came down the road.
This one was much quieter, but much more full. We sped down the highway. The conductor seemed pretty nice and friendly. By the time we reached Iganga, I realized I needed to buy some airtime. So I instructed the conductor to go and buy me some airtime at the next supermarket (as is very common to do here). I gave the conductor 15,000 shillings to purchase said airtime. The taxi pulls over and the conductor literally jumps out of the vehicle and walks away for about 3-4 minutes and comes back with my airtime.
People do this all the time; conductors will jump out of the taxis and do your grocery shopping for you if you ask them to. My airtime order delayed our journey with my fellow Ugandans a few minutes, but they didn’t seem to mind.
We left Iganga and about an hour later we were in Namatumba. Namatumba is about 20 minutes away from Tirinyi, where I branch north off the main road and head into the bush towards Kamuge. Of course, on this day, the conductor decided that Namatumba was as far as his taxi was going to reach and that we all had to switch to another taxi.
While switching to my third taxi of the day, the conductor asked me for the fare. I asked him how much it was. He said 12,000. Astonished, I told him that the journey we had just made should cost me somewhere around 5,000. In my head I was envisioning 7,000 but had to lowball first of course. He held pretty steady in the 10,000-12,000 shilling range. We continued to negotiate back and forth. Meanwhile, the taxi we are switching to is filling up with Ugandans eager to get to wherever it is they are going.
By the time we finally settle on a price of 8,000 shillings, the taxi is completely full. I tell the conductor I’m not paying the 8,000 until I’m guaranteed a seat on this taxi. Basically, if I didn’t get a seat on this taxi I was going to have to board another one and that was going to cost me even more money, it’s crazy Ugandan taxi logistics, I don’t really understand it to this day, but it works and it keeps the country moving, somehow.
Anyways, I tell him I’m not paying him until a seat opens up. I stand there and just sort of smile and look around in casual observation, waiting for them to acknowledge my demands and make something happen. It takes a few minutes but they figure out whats going on and what needs to be done. They end up moving some guy around in the front seat to the back seat to open up a seat in front for me. Again…. confusing, I know. Basically it worked out so that I got the front seat, the best seat in the wagon.
After seeing my seat open up magically before my eyes I promptly paid the man his money and gave him a nice pat on the back and a grab of the shoulder. He smiled and we continued on our respective paths. Sometimes, no matter the complications encountered with others, I can manage to stay upbeat and kid them a little bit. I like to show some sense of shared brotherhood between myself and those natives that do try to make a few extra shillings off a mzungu.
Even though they try to charge me more, they are simply taking advantage of the combination of a free market and an often times very successful and lucrative opportunity for them. I see the truth in this and I try to talk and joke with them about it. It’s a much better outcome than getting angry, but getting angry is so much easier. Believe me, I’ve had many experiences with both.
So, this week, I’m one half of two Masters on Duty at my school. I’m partnering with the agriculture teacher, Mr. Francis Kagodo. Together, we are supposed to make sure the students are in class and deal with all issues related to discipline. This has proved to be a nearly impossible task to execute with any sort of effectiveness, consistency, or efficiency.
First off, my school has no fence. So any students I see that are not in class immediately run away from me and into the bush upon hearing me call their name.
Second, I don’t really have an effective and impactful means of punishment. On Monday, I made about 13 students slash the women’s netball field for showing up late to class. But I have to teach also! I can’t just sit there and supervise them for an hour. I have a job to do, which is much more important than watching students slash. In the afternoon, about 10 minutes after I had sent 4 students to slash, the rains came and they immediately ran inside the classrooms to take cover. My school shuts down in the rain.
Thirdly, my counterpart, Mr. Kagodo, hasn’t been here! He finally showed up on Tuesday at approximately 10:45 in the morning. And he made no mention or apology for being absent.
Fourth, no teachers! On Tuesday, we had 6 out of 18 teachers on staff show up to school. It’s a bit difficult to control 500+ students with an army of one.
Tuesday morning was absurd and shocking. It was about 8:04 in the morning and I was just starting to discharge my duties for the morning by ensuring the classrooms were swept and clean. Mr. Odoi (my neighbor and the strictest and harshest teacher at my school by far) walks into his first classroom with a bundle of sticks about half an inch thick each and two or so feet long. He walks to the far end of the classroom, slams down his books on the table, and yells “What is this?! Classroom not swept!?” and starts beating the students in the front row violently on the sides of their torsos and legs. He gets to about two or three before the students are literally running over tables and desks for their lives and jumping out of windows.
I’m standing here watching this happen. This guy is intense. I admire him for being so strict but I don’t endorse the beating of students. I wish there was some other form of punishment that was used more commonly.
Lunch break ends on Tuesday and Mr. Kagodo and I walk slowly and carry our big sticks across the front expanse of the school grounds. Neither of us uses them; they’re just for show. Upon seeing us, late students sprint across the front lawn in a hurry to retreat back to their classrooms.
Afterwards, I talk to Mr. Kagodo and tell him I could never physically cane a student. He tells me he has trouble with it also, especially when he thinks of his grandchildren who will be attending primary school very soon in the near future.
I had a fantastic day on Wednesday. Not only did I teach two doubles that went incredibly well, but my good friend John came to visit me that same day. He was able to take some great shots of my teaching in action.
In addition, about two weeks ago I invited Sam Ssegirinya, the Executive Director of an NGO called Save the Rural Out of Poverty, to come and speak at our school. And he came! I organized a school assembly that day beginning at 2pm. I opened up the assembly by emphasizing the importance of the presentation they were about to see. I introduced Sam and told the students a little bit about his organization. Sam then got up and gave his presentation.
Basically his organization revolves around mobilizing rural youth to create products from local materials. Some examples would be creating paraffin from bamboo, perfume from flowers and grass, baking flour from raw cassava, sanitary pads from papyrus, plastic utensils from plastic waste, etc.
These are products these students can produce with little or no capital investment. The NGO then buys the products from the students and sells them to the wider EACM (East African Common Market-Wikipedia it yo!, it’s pretty cool). And of course the students can sell them locally.
I absolutely love and support this idea because it is consistent with our fundamental nature as human beings. These students want to build a better life for themselves. And this gives them one avenue where they can potentially generate some income and maybe afford a higher education once they graduate as S4s. Moreover, it requires their labor, their input, their time, and their investment to create a tangible, valuable item to be sold to a viable market. It is not something that is just given to them.
The event was an incredible success. Even the teachers were intrigued at everything this guy was saying. Afterwards, they all went up to him and thanked him for coming. My students signed up for activities that interested them. Later, Sam’s organization (SROP) is going to send out teachers to conduct hands on practicals with the students interested and teach them exactly how to make these products from local materials. I have high hopes accompanied with a lot of skepticism. I’m skeptical of pretty much anything right now. But there definitely appears to be some potential of promise to this project…maybe. Ha.
After the assembly, my friend John and I ran a great meeting with my Business & Life Skills Club. We talked about the importance of friendship and what qualities a good friend possesses. I gave my students the “Pay It Forward” assignment. They loved it. They seemed so happy. It was so fun!
Thursday, I gave an exam to my S2 math students. As I do every time I give an exam, I told them I would take their papers away if I caught them cheating. Sure enough, about 6.5 minutes later I caught two students looking (blatantly) at each other’s papers. I rushed over to both of them, slammed my hands on their papers and yanked them away from them. The rest of the class shuddered a bit. Hahahaha… that will teach them.
Cheating is a huge problem here. But I noticed once I started strictly enforcing the rules, virtually every student abstained from moving their eyes from their own paper.
Ground has broken, literally, on my school’s plan to add several building to our current landscape. We will be getting more classrooms, more laboratories, a new administrative building, and more latrines.
The official handing over ceremony of blueprints from the school to the contractor
The school had to cut down two gigantic Mango Trees in order to make way for the new structures. How do you cut down a Mango Tree? By hand of course! With the help of about seven men and several axes and hoes. The two trees came down. During lunch, the other teachers and I sat outside watching them dig at the roots of the trees. The work looked very difficult, very physically demanding. I got tired just looking at them. And a bit of me died inside as I watched my favorite shade providing Mango Tree right outside my office meet its end.
from the two pictures it looks like their is space all around the trees for buildings... especially since they dont have any fences up in the way.
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RIP
Mango tree #1 & #2
You stood strong, provided shade,
and everyone always looked up to you
Yeah, you're right. There's a ridiculous amount of space. There is little to no concern voiced by anyone on preserving these trees. One, the provide shade. Two, they provide food in the form of delicious mangos! Three, they're frickin ginormous trees and they're awesome. It's frustrating. I'm told I should have strapped myself to them to halt their destruction.
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