11.3.10
The Patriot
Today I am ready for the self indulgance of America. A day like this creeps up on me every so often here. I become indignant and righteous. I forget everything I have learned and turn my head from the complicated facts confronting me daily. On a day like today, when I return to my car parked alonog the main road, I refuse to give money to the small crowd of boys surrounding it. They eye me as I shut my door, put on my seat belt and shift the car into gear... They are waiting for my response to their doe eyes and pleading nods. Today I am calloused. I want to demand an explanation for how they have earned money from me, besides standing in the road. When they slam my car as I drive away, I want to stop and get out. Today I feel like shaking a finger and shouting. Why do you feel you have a right to my money? Today I can only remember the struggles and poverty I faced as a youth; my slow climb out of it. But on a day like this one, I do not feel charitable in my new position. I do not remember the orphan or feel any sympathy. Today I drive in my car with my eyes straight ahead, not seeing anything. I feel so American today.
10.3.10
Field work
The school year is about to begin its annual rollar coaster build up and slamming descent to the final day. I am home enjoying "spring break" and trying to prepare for what I know will be a messy blur until the jolting moment when I realize its actually all over. School is out. Long before this set upon us, however, I began an experiential learning project with my fifth graders that has us out and about in Kinshasa.
This wouldn't seem like such an amazing feat, except, well, we live in Kinshasa. Field tripping with 23 ten year olds comes with its share of natural hazards..no matter what continent you are on, but here in DRC there several other factors to consider.
The school has a beautiful bus that seats 26 comfortably so transportation was not a problem. Getting back the required permission slips, however, turned out to be more complicated than I had imagined. Many parents were reluctant to have their child out in Kinshasa traffic. "It can be dangerous," one parent remarked.
And so it was that I found myself gazing out at the city sights as we embarked on our first trip downtown to a car rental business housed in a reputable hotel. I realized the thoughts that filtered through my mind were not really akin to thoughts I'd had on previous field trips. I imagined the bus surrounded by an angry mob (not a far stretch of the imagination, really. Just a few days before I'd seen a growing group of street boys crowding a large green SUV.) I contemplated the correct way to handle such a situation and wondered if there shouldn't be some kind of special (tactical?) training for teachers. A few different approaches ran through my mind as I looked over the driver- figuring he should be the first line of defense but knowing it never really works out that way. Later, one of the teachers shared with me that at his previous school, they'd sent one of the security guards to accompany field trips. Yes, not a bad idea.
In addition to the perplexing thoughts, I am receiving a wealth of information about my students.We have been learning some unique aspects of living and doing business in DRC. For example, we found out that when you rent a car in Congo, it generally comes with a driver. How convenient-and affordable! On our trip to see the National Ballet, I had to post an adult next to some electrical wires that had snaked their way out of the ground. I asked our classroom assistant to direct students away from and around the hazard to keep any wayward kids from electrocuting themselves. And at the U.S embassy medical unit, I learned that many of my Africa-weathered students were already familiar with the ailments, bacterias, worms and bites that we viewed in the lab. (They kept saying, "Yeah, I had that," or "My sister had that!")
This wouldn't seem like such an amazing feat, except, well, we live in Kinshasa. Field tripping with 23 ten year olds comes with its share of natural hazards..no matter what continent you are on, but here in DRC there several other factors to consider.
We began the project in response to the school's mandate of career studies and an elementary career fair. As with every school "fair" some kind of culminating project would be needed to show off to the other classes and inspire their professional curiosity and growth. I decided to capture it all by taking the students out on several, much-begged for field trips and have them act as reporters and photographers who would then create a newspaper account of our adventures as well as a re-enactment newsclip shot "on location." I contacted parents and businesses and found many to be eager and enthusiastic about welcoming us into their place of employment.
The school has a beautiful bus that seats 26 comfortably so transportation was not a problem. Getting back the required permission slips, however, turned out to be more complicated than I had imagined. Many parents were reluctant to have their child out in Kinshasa traffic. "It can be dangerous," one parent remarked.
And so it was that I found myself gazing out at the city sights as we embarked on our first trip downtown to a car rental business housed in a reputable hotel. I realized the thoughts that filtered through my mind were not really akin to thoughts I'd had on previous field trips. I imagined the bus surrounded by an angry mob (not a far stretch of the imagination, really. Just a few days before I'd seen a growing group of street boys crowding a large green SUV.) I contemplated the correct way to handle such a situation and wondered if there shouldn't be some kind of special (tactical?) training for teachers. A few different approaches ran through my mind as I looked over the driver- figuring he should be the first line of defense but knowing it never really works out that way. Later, one of the teachers shared with me that at his previous school, they'd sent one of the security guards to accompany field trips. Yes, not a bad idea.
In addition to the perplexing thoughts, I am receiving a wealth of information about my students.We have been learning some unique aspects of living and doing business in DRC. For example, we found out that when you rent a car in Congo, it generally comes with a driver. How convenient-and affordable! On our trip to see the National Ballet, I had to post an adult next to some electrical wires that had snaked their way out of the ground. I asked our classroom assistant to direct students away from and around the hazard to keep any wayward kids from electrocuting themselves. And at the U.S embassy medical unit, I learned that many of my Africa-weathered students were already familiar with the ailments, bacterias, worms and bites that we viewed in the lab. (They kept saying, "Yeah, I had that," or "My sister had that!")
The Monkole Hospital was amazing. It was clean and well kept and appeared to employ many new and modern standards of sterility (no bug to be seen! If you have ever been in a hospital in Africa, you will know that this is difficult to achieve. Bugs are everywhere.) The newest building, the operational unit, even provides meals for patients with strict rules about NOT accepting food from home. (Traditionally in African hospitals, the patient's family is required to bring and provide food for the patient.) We were invited into patient's rooms (with their permission) and saw two brand new babies and one little girl with her grandma - all ready to go home. It seemed quite odd to me to have a group of 7 girls ooh-ing and ahhh-ing over a brand new baby in a hospital room, but the parents were proud and the doctors seemed eager to have us learn all we could.
We have a few other places lined up and I think its been successful in many respects. The students have developed a broader view of the country they live in and the school has begun to make some much needed contact with the community. As for me? I am still hoping for a crash course in field work. Should I try to bargain with the mobsters? Talk them down to a paltry sum (and will I be reimbursed for that?) Threaten them with governmental rebuke (I have quite a few children of ministers in my class) or perhaps, I could borrow a soldier. On the way back from the hospital, we passed one student's house and he had called ahead to arrange someone to meet him by the main road. "Yup," he said as we passed a large, armed man in fatigues and a red beret. "That's my soldier."
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