Trainin' the Newbs

Having been in country almost thirteen months now, our staging group had the opportunity to train the new Peace Corps trainees this weekend. We hosted the first Uganda Peace Corps “Education Fair” in which myself and 17 other education volunteers made the trek into Lweza (just outside of Kampala) to tell the new peeps about something we were doing.

As we arrived at the training center on Saturday, there was an odd feeling of nostalgia. I was taken back to the first night I arrived in country. I thought of the emotions I was feeling, the thoughts I had, the expectations I had already made that would be shattered later on, the immediate learning experiences and small culture shocks.

Volunteers talked about classroom discipline, conducting practicals, reproductive health, personal fitness, and learning aids. Another volunteer and myself hosted a booth called “Dude, where’s my car counterpart?” We described what it was like to teach at a “bad” school and what to expect if you arrive at a seemingly hopeless and troubling environment.

First of all, I don’t pretend to be an expert in the Ugandan education system. To be able to master the technique of teaching effectively in Uganda I believe would take years. And now I was supposed to explain it to the fresh blood. This is one of the reasons we chose the topic of dealing with a difficult environment.

The sessions went really well. It was great meeting the new trainees and finding out what regions everyone would be headed to in just seven weeks. And what a large group, 44 newbies. This was the first training our group could take part in so we were all really excited and eager to show off our knowledge.

The training session made me reflect on how our perspectives shift as volunteers as we progress through the different stages of the volunteer lifecycle. For instance, whenever you are training new volunteers, it is always important to stay positive and present an optimistic outlook on the work you are doing. However, as volunteers, we acquire a lot of knowledge over the year we’ve been here.

We present that knowledge as the facts and reality of the situations we encounter. To some of the newbies though, this open honesty can often times sound negative or pessimistic. I found the differences in perception very intriguing. I was also reminded of how optimistic and fast-paced we are when we come over from America. It was great to get a small taste of that, if only for a few hours.

Below are a couple pictures of my staging group after the training session on Saturday.

18 Shots of Love

And Again...

A Collection of Thoughts and Events from 2/12/11–3/1/11

Part 1: The Borehole

Today I teamed up with our Head Teacher to go to Pallisa and investigate why the school has yet to receive a borehole. A borehole is essentially a well where water is brought to the surface via a large hand pump. It’s how almost all villagers collect their water.

One year ago, Kamuge High School was promised a borehole from the local government. To date, they have yet to receive one. A borehole costs 18,000,000 shillings, around $8,200 at current exchange rates. The community was tasked with raising a contribution of 200,000 shillings, about $90. This was basically all funded via the school’s own annual budget. I was told that it would be very difficult for the Kamuge community at large to raise this sum of money. So the school just decided to front the money since they had it. Side note: the ministry funds the school, so this is government money going back to the government, interesting.

Anyways, we still don’t have one, a borehole, that is. I went to the local water council today with Mr. Bulolo and we were told that we had been allocated a borehole to our school almost a year ago. However, all the allocations have to be approved by the local government. We were told that because of “politics”, our borehole had been diverted to another community. Their recommendation for us was to literally “be patient”. “I am praying for your patience.” The water councilman tells us. We shook hands and walked out.

I had been meaning to have this meeting for a few weeks now. And it’s quite a big letdown that there is basically nothing we can do but sit and wait. As we were driving away, my Head Teacher explained to me, “You see, we come here, they cannot do anything for us. I go back to our community, and the community members all blame me. I come back here and these people blame the local government. It’s one big game.” I told him we could not give up and we needed to keep being persistent. My Head Teacher makes a good effort, he even tried to get some interest paid to us from the 200,000 we had already contributed a year ago! I asked him if there was any way the community could raise the 18,000,000 shillings and just buy the thing privately, he laughed.

The big man himself, my Head Teacher

Kamuge High School is by no means suffering. There are several other boreholes nearby (1 or 2 km). This one would just make life a little bit easier for those that live and work at the school. It’s a unique challenge, one that I will keep thinking of ways to solve. I may be here awhile.

The last thing I want to do is donate one to the community. After living here and witnessing the corrosive effects of the dependency created by a donor culture, I’m staunchly against almost all money coming into this country. I’m glad Peace Corps is not a donor organization. We are different…somehow.

Part 2: A Closer Look at Rural Education

The progression of dedicated lesson time at my school is very interesting. As a student graduates to the next level (S1, S2, S3, or S4), he or she is most likely going to receive both more lessons and more lesson time from the various teachers operating at Kamuge High.

S4s are the highest priority by far. They almost always have a teacher in their classroom and they usually attend extra lessons after regular classes and on the weekends. The reason for this is because they are preparing for the largest, most comprehensive, most determinative exams of their lives.

The S4s having a lesson after hours in around 98 degree heat

In late October and into November, they will sit these exams. Each subject has a separate exam. Most secondary students take around 8-10 different subjects. The exams can have anywhere from one to three separate papers, and each paper lasts about two hours. All told, these students are basically taking tests for six hours a day for two weeks. It is a ridiculous amount of knowledge and testing to postpone until the last year of education and I highly respect any of the students who manage to do “well” on all of them.

The S3s get more attention than the S2s and S1s because they are going to be S4s next year and need to start preparing early. The S2s and S1s suffer the most from this imbalance. The S1s are lucky if they have one lesson during the entire day. Many of them are still struggling with their English skills and can’t understand the teacher at the front of the room. How frustrating as a student! School was hard enough in my mother tongue, I can’t imagine learning in a different language.

What a back row S2 student sees

For the poor and under resourced schools of Uganda, the strategy is basically to pummel the S4s into oblivion with knowledge during their last year in the last desperate hope that something will stick and at least a few will attain that Division 1 score. For the rest of the school, it is do what you can, when you can. I’ve stopped teaching S1s because they cannot understand my accent or English.

This term I am teaching S4 mathematics, S3 physics, and S2 mathematics. I’ve been with the current S4s for three terms now and have developed a really good rapport with many of them. I know the good students. I know the ones that continue to try the hardest and just may succeed. I know the jokesters and the flippant.

Keeping track of students here is extremely difficult. They’re all extremely soft spoken. I can barely hear them talk when they’re standing right next to me. They all have the exact same buzz haircut (even the girls). They are all wearing the exact same uniform. They all basically have the same skin tone. Though some are lighter or darker than others.

This can be an obstacle to teachers. If we need to find a particular student for any reason, it is often times difficult. And even if that very student is in the room, it usually takes several minutes to locate them. Moreover, many students are constantly transferring in and out of our school. This makes for a lot of new and even more unrecognizable faces.

These new students understandably share no unity or solidarity with the rest of the student population. Often times they come from a different tribe and thus speak a different language. At the really great schools in Uganda, the students interact in English, but here they all speak in “vernacular” as the teachers call it. This makes communication difficult amongst new and diverse students.

Yesterday we had another random “pop” assembly at our school lasting one hour. I sat there in the background as various teachers spoke, staring at the smartest students who chose to stand at the front of the crowd with their Barack Obama belt buckles and engaged expressions. The whole time I’m just thinking about how much time we’re wasting and robbing from the students education. I accept the frustration, forget it, and listen on.

Part 3: KAF Guest House

There are some interesting characters at KAF Guest House. I’m a regular here. Men come here to relax during the hottest parts of the days. Some of them drink soda. Others drink beer. Others drink Waragi (Uganda’s own brand of disgusting liquor) straight or mixed with some brand of soda.

Women come too. But they are few and far between. The employees that work here are all women, attractive women. There is a mzee (old man) that owns the place usually lurking around behind the scenes. I’ve never been too fond of him. But the girls who work here are a delight. And they know me.

Inside the KAF Guest House

The men sit with their respective beverages and stare into the empty, dry, hot air. Some of them nod off for an afternoon nap, while sitting. When power is available, the blaring sound of music videos offers no semblance of peace within a 50-foot radius. I’ve learned to power through and focus my concentration despite the barrage of noise.

You walk in some days and its as if the place is closed, yet open. Nobody is around and the employees are blending in somewhere on the perimeter of the room or of the…well…perimeter. Men storm in and tap or bang their keys and knuckles on the bar demanding service. “You bring me a beer.” They demand quick customer service. Interesting to witness considering this is a country largely without any sense of urgency.

Some men converse in Ateso or Lugwere about the day’s events or “struggling somehow”. Some of them look at me with controlled excitement. Just waiting for me to look at them or say something. Every time I come here I get some comment regarding what I’m taking (drinking) that day, usually a cold 300ml bottle of Coca-Cola classic. I ordered a Senator (one of Uganda’s cheapest and finest Extra Lagers) the other day and one man was astonished. “I thought you take only soda.” He says.

When there is power, this place serves as a nice haven to complete work on my laptop with access to decent internet. Lately though, the mzee has been asking me to foot a small portion of his power bill, claiming it has increased significantly since I started coming here. That may be the case, but considering I come here once maybe twice a week for a few hours, I doubt I am the main cause of his establishment’s increase in power usage.

It’s quiet here now. Patrons sit and relax and let the heat pour over their exhausted sticky bodies. I take another drink of Senator and lean back into the soft, sinking, felt cushions of my lounge chair while contemplating what I’ll do next.

The Good with the Bad

Another week has passed in the blazing pearl. This week has been strange, characterized by a series of small victories and small failures. We had a “pop” assembly during the middle of the day on Monday, which lasted two hours and deprived the students of that lesson time for the day. Most of the teachers got up and mentioned one thing or another about the “undisciplined students” being “not serious”. My mind tends to drift into limbo during these useless diatribes.

I have been working with the students all week to get their letters written to students in America. They are excited. But they are so unorganized. I tell them to meet me at a certain time on a certain day, and they don’t. They come the next day and claim they didn’t understand. We definitely have our communication issues.

I cracked the whip on my S4s this week. I kicked a bunch out of class for not being prepared and bringing their workbooks as I had told them to do multiple times. They don’t like that. They are smart students, but they act like freaking kindergarteners all the time. Class was so quiet that day. It was great.

I had been living with only about $3 of cash on hand this week. Multiple events contributed to this unfortunate circumstance. I had to pay back a friend who had lent me some money and this threw off my regular budget. Earlier in the week I tried to go to the bank in Pallisa but the power was off and the ATM wasn’t even working. I rolled into town today with my last 2,000 shilling note praying that the bank would be up and operating, luckily it was and I’m flush again.

I tried to meet up with our Head Teacher to discuss a bore hole implementation project I’m toying with, but was unsuccessful. He had gone to town, I went and tried to find him but he was unfindable and his phone was shut off. I feel like I need some sort of in country companion to pilot these projects with, otherwise they are destined to fail. Finding motivated individuals is definitely a challenge in my community. Especially when I struggle with motivation enough as it is.

I slaughtered a chicken this week! I used the “step on the feet with one foot and the wings with the other and pull on its neck and slice its head off” technique. About halfway through cutting through its neck, I had to stop and hold it down to allow it to die so I didn’t get blood all over myself. It was pretty cool…and later…delicious.

I started my garden… again. I planted tomatoes, onions, carrots, and green peppers. I’m going to plant more (watermelon, cantaloupe, greens, eggplant) later on. Uganda is so fertile; it’s so easy to grow stuff here. And it’s a fun little project for me. Everything is done by hand here and digging with a hoe for any period of time longer than five minutes turns out to be a beast of a workout, especially with dry soil.

So Peace Corps has this document describing the emotions that volunteers experience throughout their two years of service. Here is what it said for those volunteers 11-15 months in (aka yours truly):

ISSUES: doubt about program, role, self, govt., various failures over time, reflection: disillusionment, confusion, resolving frustrations with victories

BEHAVIOR/REACTION: impatience with self, program, systems, blame on program, constant complaining, lethargy

Do I sound like any of these? Personally, I found this to be extremely accurate and a bit of a relief. I think every single volunteer can relate to at least some of these, and to different degrees. I feel like the feelings I’ve experienced have been pretty mild when compared to the overall population of volunteers. However, it’s still pretty amazing to know that we all go through the same thing, that we are all human. That our thought processes and emotions can be depicted accurately and reliably as time goes by. It’s a refreshing revelation.

Plant That Seed

It’s Tuesday, the week after the elections has gone off successfully. On Monday morning, I could detect a subtle aura of frustration and disenfranchisement amongst the teachers and administrative staff. Most of them had no trouble voting. However, they were upset at the results. The culture of political discussion is quite different here.

In America, it’s quite the taboo topic in a professional setting. However, Ugandans discuss politics pretty regularly and openly amongst each other. Many Ugandans wear t-shirts with a picture of the head of their candidate for president. I can’t imagine this happening in a professional setting in the states.

“I was very disappointed.” Mr. Otoke says after I ask him what he thought of the election results. He then continues to talk about the election and how the Members of Parliament (the U.S. equivalent of Congressmen) that he voted for did not win. And how some “shady characters” ended up winning the election.

I keep hearing stories about different voters showing up to their specific polling station only to find out that their name is not on the “list”. They are then told to go to another polling station, which is two districts away and unreachable in terms of money for transport. Many villagers cannot afford the taxi fare. And even if they can afford to reach the new polling center, their name is missing from that list, and they are referred somewhere else, and so on and so forth.

Today teachers were saying “Peaceful, yes! Free and fair, no.” I told them that international observers seemed to be happy with the results. I don’t think they bought into much of what I said. Neither do I, I have no clue. All I saw were the long lines.

So the country moves forward. This week has been busy in a different way with lots of random meetings and events. Somehow we are still scrambling to get organized for this term. We are now four weeks in. We keep getting new teachers and transfers. Teachers keep transferring out. And trying to organize these new staffing arrangements without strong administrative leadership from the school turns out to be complicated. Surprise?

There are more rounds of elections for local office tomorrow. Students kept hinting that school may not be in session for this reason. So what do I do? I go and ask the teachers if we will have school tomorrow. They don't know. Next, I go to ask the administrative staff if school will happen tomorrow. "It is likely not to happen," is the response I get. How does this happen? Haha. I ask my Head Teacher. He says no, school will continue. This was earlier in the day. I just got word 30 minutes ago that it's a public holiday. Gotta love it.

I’m happy to report that progress is being made on a school garden we took on this term. Land is being cleared for a seven-acre plot. The hope is that we can use this garden to feed the students lunch during the school year. I’m happy to see that the leadership on this project is coming completely from the school, and not me. I just planted the proverbial seed of thought into the teacher’s minds.

I started a pen pal writing program with some of my students on Monday. They are eager to begin writing to students in America. Below is a picture taken yesterday.

I Wish They Would Smile!

It'll Set You Free

While on a run yesterday, my mind began questioning what makes a society function…well. It was Election Day. And I found myself, once again, running through the dirty, crowded, chaotic, and scattered streets of this country. I often ask myself, what is so hard about cleaning up a city? Or building good quality roads?

The country lacks the foundation of democratic infrastructure needed to sustain what it calls a government of the people. There are no real, powerful objective institutions. As many of my colleagues at the school say, the man is bigger than the institution. When ideally the institutions should be bigger than the man. The country’s leadership usually keeps a low profile. Their daily appointments and tasks kept secret from the general public. It’s difficult to know just what the president is up to on any specific day.

People have little faith in change. They keep strolling to that ballot box every 5 years with the hope that some unique effect will be derived from their actions. Something that will help them. Something that will help the country. But year after year, all they are met with is more corruption, more complacency, more dysfunction. It’s something that has become an innate part of the culture in many people here.

In the United States, we have these institutions. They are stronger than the man. They are stronger than corruption. They are stronger than the power of those elected and appointed. We built the oldest, most transparent, overanalyzed, criticized, scrutinized, examined, researched, recorded, photographed, discussed, admired, audacious, hated, envied, examined, inspected, explored, resilient, stable, wealthy, flexible, accountable, sustainable, self-sufficient, failsafe, and secure form of uniformly representational democracy ever known to man. How lucky we are. How far we have come.

The effects and conditions of countries subsisting without these adjectives in their so-called democracies contribute to a harder life for those people living in those countries. They cast away opportunity. There are no easily navigable channels here to earn a better life for yourself. There are no student loans. No student jobs. You have to truly work at it. And if you make it, you've done exceptionally well. But to make it in a community like the small village of Kamuge in Pallisa District in Uganda, East Africa, it requires you to become a magician. To make teachers appear where there are none. To make reliable health professionals and prescription medicine appear where there are none. To bring light to a place where the students evening study sessions are cloaked in darkness. To make clean and nutritious food available when there is none at school.

Navigable channels. My whole life I feel like I have been overwhelmed with opportunity. And a general feeling that there would and will always be a path for me to reach my next goal. A loving and supportive family. Great friends. A fantastic public education system. A quality and affordable university education system. A vast and thriving job market. A freedom to choose to do what I want to do. An ability to act on that choice. Choice. Choice.

What’s a difference between us and the developing world? We have a choice.

The election is over. The votes are being tallied. Uganda has made their “choice”. It appears to be Museveni, again. I praise this country for being as peaceful as it has for this long. I hope it lasts a few more days while tensions are still high. I continue to be amazed at the grace and perseverance human beings can display day in and day out in a country with so many problems. But, the people have spoken, and though the election may have been marred by semi-corrupt and unfair electoral practices, which I know almost nothing about, I truly respect and support the will of the people, if the count truly represents their majority opinion, if it represents truth.

Uganda Votes

Elections are imminent. In two days, millions of Ugandans will travel back to their home villages or their closest polling station to cast their ballots in favor of the incumbent, President Museveni, or one of the seven different opposition candidates, one of which, is a women.

So far, the process leading up to election day has been very peaceful, especially when compared to other events currently going on throughout Africa and much of the Middle East.

As PCVs living in country, we get many updates on how the campaigns are going and any potential threats. So far we’ve been told that things have been calm this week and that Museveni has been fighting fair (although African standards of fair are quite different than American standards).

Museveni has been in power for 25 years. And he has done many great things for Uganda. In talking with voters in my community (colleagues and students), it’s difficult to develop any sort of logical consensus as to what a majority of Ugandans believe. Some of them still love Museveni and think he should keep on keepin’ on. Others think he should have left tomorrow and will vote for anyone but him.

Most of my fellow teachers pass their morning tea and afternoon lunch breaks embarking on diatribes against the two and half decade incumbent. Others, like my S4 students, praise him for providing them with free universal education, something they would not be able to afford otherwise, even though it’s quality may be lacking. And like almost every other nation, these opinions change depending on what region of the country you are in. I happen to be in an anti-incumbent region.

With seven different opposition candidates, it would be difficult for one of them to gain the required 51% majority to win elected office. What would be more interesting to see is the opposition vote depriving Museveni of his required 51% for re-election, in which case the vote goes to a runoff of the top two finishers. Some Ugandans recently informed me that although many of them support the different opposition candidates, on election day, they will all select the one they believe to be the strongest, in hopes of defeating the incumbent, I found this very interesting.

However, I’m still very much an outsider when it comes to this topic. I wish I could speak intelligently about the current issues, candidate platforms, and relevant statistics to be able to develop an informed opinion, but to be honest, I have no clue. I don’t understand what is meaningful to Ugandans and what they are going to be voting on on Friday. I wish I did. I wish I could communicate it to everyone back home. But I think it is far too complicated and limited solely to Ugandans’ actual perspectives. Alas, I remain neutral. It feels great to be in Uganda during such an exciting and unique event. I hope for a vote that is free, fair, and peaceful for all Ugandans.

One Year In, One Yearnin'

“This school used to be better.” Our DOS (Director of Studies), Madam Aloro Ester, tells me one day. We were sitting outside the administration block in the cool shade of a nearby mango tree. Ester has some passionate views. Ones that she voices almost everyday she is at the school. She is always ranting about some issue, usually concerning politics, education, the food, or our “undisciplined” students.

Sometimes I join her just for fun. All the Ugandan teachers in the room get a huge kick out of that. I will go on rants about how sick I am of posho and beans for lunch and ask why they don’t give us something else. Or we will talk about daily happenings in Uganda and I will question them and tell them it makes no sense to me.

Back to the mango tree, we were both sitting there. I was watching as she called students over and told them to “tuck in” their uniforms and be smart. Then a group of seven girls got caned for skipping class. It looks pretty painful from up close. Caning doesn’t happen often at my school, so I was a bit surprised.

Mrs. Aloro Ester explaining her frustrations

After the beatings, she started talking to me about how Kamuge High School used to be a few years ago. The students were more disciplined, they wanted to learn, their performance was better, and teachers were paid more. She told me that when the Ministry of Education introduced Universal Secondary Education (USE), everything started to deteriorate at Kamuge High.

The school could no longer accept school fees. Before USE was implemented, the school was charging 49,000/= per student per term. That’s around $25. This money was used to reimburse teachers for public transportation costs in their commute to and from the school. These costs can sometimes add up to 25-30% of their monthly pay. It was also used to reward teachers for better performance. This money is no longer there. The teachers do not get reimbursed for travel expenses and bonuses are unheard of. They received a huge pay decrease from a salary that is already ridiculously low. Some make $100-200 a month.

The students now pay nothing, zero. Which means the families also pay nothing. Not a shilling. When was the last time you received something for free? Do you still have it? Did you value it all that much? Do you even remember what it was? Now, what was the last thing you purchased? How much was it?

My point is, I believe making education completely free at this school was a really bad idea. Because it is free, I don’t think the families or the students value it as much. Because it is free, I think the students have less incentive to come everyday and the families have less incentive to make their children come everyday. Spending money hurts, and if they spent money on school fees for their kids, they’re more likely to make them go and get their money’s worth. Especially here, in country where money is so scarce.

The government mandated that the school must accept everyone. Fine, I have no problem with this. But it exploded the school population. It is now double what it was in earlier years. And the government did nothing to increase the resources of the school to handle the increase in volume. If anything, it decreased the resources indirectly by decreasing the money flowing into the school.

The government mandated that the school must accept ALL new S1 students with an aggregate P7 score of 28 or less. Ok, translated into American education terms, this would be like admitting a student who just completed 8^th grade with an average of 30% or better in all courses into high school with no questions asked. Furthermore, the government mandated that we are not allowed to fail ANY student whatsoever. Each student must be allowed to move on to the next grade no matter how poorly they perform.

The government also made caning illegal. The teachers claim that this is the only way to discipline the students. I happen to disagree but it’s just one more thing that adds to their difficulties.

Ester talked about how she used to love being a teacher. She loved to come to school and teach students who were eager, disciplined, and ready to learn, students who respected the teacher and performed well. Now she says she has lost all her love for the profession. And who can blame her after all that has happened?

Universal Secondary Education, hm, it sounds great. Accessible education for everyone? Yeah, it’s a great ideal and one every nation should strive for. But the way it has been implemented in some parts of this country has had devastating effects on the quality of education.

Our school’s results came out from last year. We had zero students finish in Division 1. Doesn’t really mean much to people back home, but it is bad. And the teachers sit around and talk about how disappointed they are in the students, and then they sort of laugh about it and talk about how bad everything is, it’s an interesting dynamic that plays out.

Friday marked my 1-year anniversary since arriving in Uganda. Only 1.25 more years to go! To reflect on the title of this post, I guess I yearn for the American ideals I had come to learn during my first 26 years of life. But I know that is an unrealistic goal. In some ways it feels like I have learned and accomplished a lot, in others I feel like I have accomplished nothing, a common Peace Corps reflection among many volunteers.