But, if you want so hear my thoughts about teaching in Tanzania, check out the blog below.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Mista J.J.
I really, really love teaching. More than anything else, my experience here has cemented in my mind that I want to be an educator. Remember in school, you always had one teacher, who was cooler, more approachable, fun, and somewhat bat-shit crazy? Well, here in Hanga, I think that’s me. I don’t just teach but I also kick it with the students. Teachers tend to be way authoritarian here, and I want them to see a guy who is better educated than virtually all their other teachers treating them like they’re not essentially beneath him. I also do some things I definitely wouldn’t do in the States. I remember one time (here comes the crazy part), I was teaching my computer class, and it was like 10:15 at night, and I really wanted to get out of there because I had to wake up at 7:00 if I wanted breakfast. The students were just not moving and being kind of obstinate. So, I started picking them up and carrying them out of the classroom. Now, to be fair, if I said leave my class and go to bed, in the States they would. Also, these guys are my age, but still.
Teaching English to Swahili speakers is a major difficulty. The languages are pretty radically different. For example, in Kiswahili, there are virtually no prepositions, no continuous tense, no articles, no distinction between infinitives and gerunds, and strictly phonetic spelling which is seemingly really flexible. I can demonstrate what I mean by “flexible spelling” best with an example. I have one student named Caspary. Or Kaspary. I don’t think he his spelled his name the same way twice. Or one might spell his name Theobard or Theobardi. Also, the vowel sounds are different, Kiswahili has five simple vowel sounds, English has eight. There is no “th” diphthong or other diphthongs (eight in all in English) in Swahili. One time, one of my students wrote “hallo, I I thanks so much Chrast.” He meant Christ, in case you were wondering. Another time a student wrote “sanks,” instead of “thanks.” The first few times I introduced myself it went like this. “Jina langu Anthony.” “Antoni?” “Anthony.” “Ansoni?” “J.J., sema J.J.” People love calling me J.J. here. In Kiswahili, “je” means “do,” or “how.” So, in other words, calling me J.J. is almost the same as having the nickname “what, what.”
However, I think the funniest common mistake has to do with “r” and “l.” In Kiswahili, “r” and “l” are completely interchangeable. At one point I thought that people were saying two different words when they were one and the same, just pronounced differently. There also aren’t any words that end in a consonant, so they usually add random vowels at the end of a word, or sometimes in the middle. So, for example, there is almost no difference when they say, “play,” or “pray.” So one day, when I was working on pronunciation, I was thinking of monosyllabic words with an “l” or “r”. I wrote “roll and roller” and then “clap and clapper.” These came out “rorlrli and rorlrrlrlaa.” Coincidentally, they pronounce the name “Laura” very similarly. I hadn’t thought of it when I wrote “clap” and “clapper” on the board, so I was shocked to here forty students all saying in unison “crap,” “crappa.” I laughed uncontrollably for about five minutes. I thought “I gotta explain this in Kiswahili.” “ukikuenda crapper, ni kama kuchuchumaa choni. It was their turn to laugh. The “r” and “l” thing has been a source of constant hilarity. For example, last week, I was asked to be a sort of judge when our school debated another about the merits of a multi-party system or a single party system of government. I sat there intently listening and jotting down notes, when one student got up and in a very fervor filled fashion stated “yah, so the multi-party erection is much better than the single party erection because it give the better freedom.” I don’t know if I’ve ever been with 300 people or so and been the only one to get the joke before.
The students and Andrew and I have an in-joke that we find really funny, though I don’t know if the humor will translate to the page (or webpage, I suppose). So, in Andrew’s chemistry class, he was talking about buffers, when all the students in the class erupted in laughter. Andrew though maybe buffer sounded like a dirty word and Kiswahili or something, but the students just informed him that they just thought it was a funny word. The next day I used for pronunciation practice. I was able to get them from saying “buffa,” to “buffer” with a hard e and a rolled r at the end. Close enough for me, I suppose. So, now, anytime someone says or does something funny or ridiculous, or maybe if there is an awkward pause, someone usually yells buffer.
Nearly everybody here has the same basic problems or errors when they speak in English. For example, they constantly say the word “somehow” when they want to say “somewhat.” Improper use of punctuation, capitalization, just general word choice, abound. Also, people often phrase things in a very awkward way. For example, the habit I’ve been trying hardest to break my students of is saying things like, “he likes so much to go to school.” Part of the problem extends from the word sana, because it can mean “so much,” “so many,” “very,” “really,” “a lot,” in English. You see they study English very similarly to the way we might study dead languages like Latin or Greek, in our education system. They don’t speak it, learn to understand native speakers, or pronounce things in a way that native speakers understand. There are definitely no oral exams. In many schools, the teachers themselves may never have talked to a native speaker. What happens is the teachers write the notes in English, explain them in Kiswahili, and then the students are tested in English. The knowledge is completely compartmentalized. In other words, if they have a math problem, they can solve it. Give them a word problem and they’re screwed. To complicate matters even further, I’ve only met a handful of teachers who are themselves proficient, let alone fluent, in English. In some of the classes I’ve sat in on, they’ve explained things in Kiswahili in an English literature course! Also, the teachers make obvious errors for example, spelling successful “succesiful” (the way they say it). Another time, a teacher wrote on the board “what is the roles of literature.” I’ve noticed that people have these massive vocabularies, but make constant errors with really basic stuff like verb tense, syntax, plural and singular, pronoun use, capitalization, simple punctuation, articles, and prepositions. That’s what the education system focuses on I also use a much simpler English vocabulary than other teachers I’ve seen. It’s like they expect everyone to run before they walk. What ends up happening is they misuse complicated words, and improperly construct complex sentences. They also constantly use antiquated terms. They speak like a British guy 70 years ago, and for a very good reason, the translations were made 70 years ago by stuffy British academics, and it hasn’t been updates since! Instead of saying, “do it this way,” someone might say “do it thusly.” It’s like an education system run by college freshmen. If they explained things in a simple way, they wouldn’t have to teach in Kiswahili. They also use a very imperfect immersion system. They call it English medium, but I would estimate they speak in Kiswahili 70% of the day. Even the signs “Speak English” should read “Speak in English.” Also, the time for English is split between grammar and literature, so there isn’t as much time devoted to actually learning the language. Essentially, the way the education system is set up, all they really need to be able to do is read English. They don’t need fluency or proficiency, or even the ability to apply their English in real world situations. They just need to pass the national exams (more on that later).
You might find yourself asking why they learn in English at all. I’ve asked myself the same question many times, and indeed, so do the people who run the Ministry of Education. Here are basically the two sides of the debate. Our student’s aren’t learning a usable or correct form of English, so we might as well just teach in Kiswahili so they understand the material better, and make English something optional (like foreign language in U.S. schools). But here is the other side of the coin. There are certain concepts you simply can’t explain in Kiswahili. It’s nearly impossible to explain how light can be both a wave and a particle. Or how something could be hermaphroditic or asexual. Kiswahili developed as a trade language, not one to be used for academic discourse. Also, all the science, social science, math, etc. words that they use, pretty much come from English anyway. Plus, if they have any hopes for defending themselves from the onslaught of globalism, they need to an international language (I say international language, and not English, because due to the increasing influence of China in the area, it would be better for them to learn Chinese).
Kiswahil, for all its faults as an academic language, has been one of the key things in Tanzania’s (relative) success. I mean, every other country in East Africa has been an absolute shit show at some point since its independence. It has a lot to do with their first president Julius Nyrere. The guy was a genius, it’s too bad nobody has been nearly as effective since. He’s responsible more than anyone else for the spread of Kiswahili (or in English ,Swahili, to clarify). Originally, it started as a trade language, not a native tongue. Arabic traders (read: slave traders) definitely influenced its initial spread. German colonists also spread it to help them (where as the English spread English). But instead of being a trade and slave language, Nyrere turned it into something different. Kiswahili is unique in some aspects because aside from the youth, or in places like Dar or Zanzibar, it’s no one’s first language. Tanzania is the only (or at least was at one time, I’m not really sure) African country to have an African language as its main official language. It’s the only African language that is an official language of the African Union*. It’s a great source of national pride. Also, where other countries have been wracked with tribal tensions, and in some cases warfare and genocide, Tanzania has remained stable. It’s a safer country than the U.S. This is largely due to the national unity a common language brings to places with artificial borders put in place during the scramble for Africa by European powers. But partially, its prominence holds Tz back from learning other languages. Americans don’t learn other languages, really, but we’re luck enough to have an international language as our native tongue. However, outside of East Africa (Kiswahili is used in Kenya, and its use is spreading in Zambia, Rwanda, Uganda, Burundi, and even as far away as Somolia), it’s basically useless. Any Tanzanian or native Swahili speaker I meet in the States is going to speak better English than I speak Swahili.
I think, in some ways, it’s because of this that many outside groups are hesitating to pump their resources into teaching English. The Peace Corps, lest we forget, was started to make Americans look good abroad, and that continues to be part of its mission. So, all the Peace Corps education volunteers I have met all teach math and sciences. I think, honestly, it would be better to pump most of them into English medium primary (elementary) schools, so student understand the material better later on. But the U.S. government would never do that because it smacks too much of imperialism for them to improve their image. I mean, they do need good math and science teachers, but I think in a holistic sense, teaching young people English is more sustainable and versatile. I mean, the education system is ALREADY IN ENGLISH. Though there are many problems besides the level of English, I still think it is the best solution.
And there are many other problems. In other disciplines, while tutoring the students I’ve noticed some pretty glaring errors, and not just with grammar. The other day, I was looking at their geography notes**. Under the heading “Other causes of earthquake” it listened such things as “volcanic activity,” “human development like excavation and mining,” “landslides,” and “animals stampedes.” It later said something like minor tremors, but they did already call it an earthquake. Awesome. I’ve noticed a number of errors in the textbooks themselves. Here is one verbatim:
Simple Prepositions: These are prepositions which are not formed by any method and are common to a language [comma use sic plus the fact that the sentence doesn’t make sense]. They formed [sic] by one word. Such prepositions are as follows: At [capitalization, sic],by [comma use sic] for, from, in, off on, out, through, till up with, after, since, via, per, than town [wtf??? sic], past under to over, but round.
Examples:
She is at the bus stop.
He fell off the lorry [note, this is the U.K. word, the U.S. word is truck]
Rukia is killed by her husband [Wha? What the fuck? I mean seriously, people, a correct sentence, but huh?]
And that’s their textbook! You might think that’s bad, but at least my students have textbooks. The writers of the book only had their B.A. too. Also of the problem has to do with the ministry of education. They are the ones who allow this crap to be printed. The language system is basically based on an antiquated preWW2 era British system. Most of the schools are boarding schools. The have primary school standard I-VII, which is basically kindergarten through 6th grade. Form I and II are basically 7th and 8th grade, forms III and IV are 9th and 10th, and O level and A level are 11th and 12th grade. From III and IV students range in age from 17-28. If you are not familiar with the U.K. system today, the education system in Harry Potter is based on the old model. There is virtually no continuous assessment; instead, they have the national exams. National exams are a big deal the have one at the end of Form II, Form IV, and A level. Again, with the Harry Potter, they are like the O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S. They cost money to take, involve a lengthy registration process, and have police officers with AK-47 at the door to prevent cheating (seriously). I’ve looked at these exams. I’m a college educated native English speaker, an I found the English exam confusing as hell. Andrew described the Physics exam this way: “a M.I.T. physics prof would get a 70% on the exam because the questions are so unclear and misleading.” I guess it’s a good thing they only need like a 30% or 40% to pass.
You might find yourself asking why use these exams at all. Well, in a sense, the government is stuck. They don’t have enough qualified teachers. Like in the States, the money lies in government work, business, etc. Places like Tz suffer from major brain drain. Many who get enough education expat. Most teachers don’t go to college. This basically means the same thing as having someone who just finished high school teaches 10th grade. In small isolated places, people who complete standard VII teach standard II or something. This means a 7th grader teaches 3rd grade. In the past few years, the government has built 2000 schools, but this means dick bupkiss if there aren’t teachers. Without some sort of accreditation process, these exams are the only thing the government can do to create some sort of semblance of consistency. So yeah, problems exist at the schools here, but these are good schools. The students, at least, have enough teachers and freakin’ libraries. Many schools can’t boast that. I’ll give you and an example, there is a school not so far from here that a couple years ago had 700 students and 4 teachers. It was a new school, all the students failed their exams, the students left, and the school went bankrupt. But this has turned into a success story. One of the best teachers from Hanga Seminary became headmaster there. He is doing everything right. He’s building it in a sustainable way. They are building an adequate library before the buy books so they remain in good condition. Right now, they have about 100 students (and they all passed their last round of exams). Right now, there are 10 teachers and he wants to increase the student body to 200 and no more. It’s sustainable that way both for the education of the students, and for the amount of food they need. Plug, plug, when I get back to the States, I’m going to try and fundraise them a library, and I’m also going to try and help get them a Peace Corp volunteer. But other problems exist. Legally, the headmaster or his (realistically only his and not hers) proxy is able to administer four strokes as a punishment. To beat a student otherwise is illegal. There are a lot of things illegal in Tanzania. There are also a lot of things that are never prosecuted. A cop is much more likely to (illegally, only immigration can do that) ask a white person traveling through town for their papers, hoping for a bribe, than to bust a school for corporal punishment. Now, at all the schools in Hanga it is strictly prohibited with varying degrees of enforcement. Other schools, it is certainly commonplace. Also, at some schools it depends on the teacher. If the teacher has a degree, and therefore indispensable, than they can do whatever they damn well please. It also depends a lot on the personal leadership of the headmaster. For me, if I see it, I have the knowledge to say you can’t do this. A teacher can’t counter with “this is our culture” because it is against their law. If the headmaster consents, my hands are completely tied. Now, I don’t want to paint an overly dark picture, that would be unfair and outright incorrect, but there are things that leap out to me as major problems. For example, it is not just common place, but almost assumed, that male teachers are having sex with one or more of their students. For the girls, it’s the possibility of a guaranteed benefactor. Now, I’d say this has more to do with the promiscuous culture that school abuse issues (make of that what you will). Again, in Hanga this is strictly prohibited, as these are Catholic schools (and it definitely never happens at the Seminary because it is all male, and there’s no pederasty, because of how homophobic this country is) and I would say it would be way more unheard of than beating and immediately punished. However, there was a case a few years ago that a girls schools that is a Catholic school where the from IV students pimped out the form I and IIs to villagers and collected money. Once it was discovered, it was stopped, but still. To an extent we have a self-perpetuating cycle. The repression done by some current teachers will lead to the next generation thinking it is acceptable. Now, as an outsider and a person who doesn’t know all the details, and can’t always make a clear observation I would stand behind under oath, I would say that some of the schools in Tanzania remind me more of a scene out of Cool Hand Luke than a place of education.
But you need to remember reading this that their culture is different than ours. Corporal punishment in all circumstance is more acceptable. Also, living in what we would see as cramped conditions, is totally normal. Some people wouldn’t know what do to if they had a room as big as the average American teenager. That’s one thing I see no problem with (other than the communicability of disease). Also, the sexual dominance of older men over young girls is something that needs to be addressed at a societal level. In some ways many cultures throughout human history have considered this behavior normal. The best approach a volunteer or someone else can take is to talk about health issues and STDs for prevention, or help establish adequate social services. Anger or outrage doesn’t do any good. Only smart, calculated, and informed action does.
I’d also like to point out that it is usually really good here. Students are happy. Teachers are happy. Sometimes the shit hits the fan, but not often. In terms of the bad stuff, the same thing happens in the States. And at least these schools don’t have crack to deal with. Or metal detectors at their doors. In many ways, the education gap in the States is much more disgusting, because the most powerful country in the world could solve it’s education problems in a year with all the money is spends on weapons that can potentially kill civilians, or the money spent on that second Escalade or Hummer. I mean, I think we have all had one or two teachers who were essentially useless, but had a job because they were a really good coach, or the school’s turn-over rate and pay were too crappy to keep the talented folks around. If you are thinking “what can I do?,” I have a couple answers, but most people won’t like ‘um. Become a long-term volunteer. If you stay short term it doesn’t do a whole lot in terms of impact (but it might for the personal growth of the volunteer). Donate to scholarships, but make sure they aren’t mismanaged or misappropriated. Or, become an educator yourself or help the kids in your local area. It’s easier, and more effective. DON’T send a bunch of shitty books to Africa. The bookshelves here are littered with Harlequin romance novels, or classics the students can’t read and don’t apply to their lives. There is a Spanish textbook here. Great, I’m the only one in Hanga that can use it. The money spent on the postage could buy them English-Swahili dictionaries or encyclopedias that they need much more. Or Scholarships. Make the smart choice and not one that alleviates a guilt conscience or give a feeling of false-self-accomplishment.
So I came into this wondering whether or not I was qualified. As it turns out, I am hyper-qualified by comparison. Also, you need to remember that having a diploma, degree, or certification helps a lot to assure quality levels, but it doesn’t make someone a good teacher or even more intelligent and wise. Just because a teacher doesn’t have one doesn’t mean they are a bad teacher. Likewise, I’d like to think I’m a good teacher because I’m smart and I care. But who knows, maybe I am totally screwing these guys over because I’ve spent most of my time on teaching them how to use prepositions and verb tenses instead of things like writing recipes (it’s on the nation syllabus, really) or cramming a bunch of wordy impressive sounding vocabulary in their heads. Either way, these guys really make me want to come back to Tz and to be an educator wherever I go. Also, high school pretty much sucks wherever you go. I guess the only thing I can say with certainty is we all gotta keep trying. So, crap for multipartison erections, and sank Chrast for what you’ve got.
Post Script.
I didn’t know where this would fit in here, so I’m adding it as a post script. For some reason, people here freaking love professional wrestling. I can’t describe my confusion when my students (multiple times and parties) asked me “yah, so do you know John Cena.” “Who the hell is John Cena?” “Yeah, he’s very strong, and he’s so famous in America.” “Really.” “You know wrestling is fake, right?” “No, not.” “Then how come their faces aren’t bruised and bloody after the fight like they are in boxing.” “Yah, because they are very strong.” “Whatever guys.”
*Something like 30% of Kiswahili comes from Arabic, and large amounts come from English, German, and a lesser extent Portuguese, so, to be fair, it is somewhat debatable whether or not it can be considered a truly African language.
** So, when they reach O level and A level or university, they are channeled into different disciplines, and there isn’t a whole lot of choice in what you do. For example, one path is English, Kiswahili, and geography. The study of geography has nothing to do with linguistics. These just happen to be the three easiest subjects to pass the test in. Sigh. PBC, or physics, biology, and chemistry are the most difficult and sought after. If you can’t do, teach. If you can’t teach, teach Geography.
Teaching English to Swahili speakers is a major difficulty. The languages are pretty radically different. For example, in Kiswahili, there are virtually no prepositions, no continuous tense, no articles, no distinction between infinitives and gerunds, and strictly phonetic spelling which is seemingly really flexible. I can demonstrate what I mean by “flexible spelling” best with an example. I have one student named Caspary. Or Kaspary. I don’t think he his spelled his name the same way twice. Or one might spell his name Theobard or Theobardi. Also, the vowel sounds are different, Kiswahili has five simple vowel sounds, English has eight. There is no “th” diphthong or other diphthongs (eight in all in English) in Swahili. One time, one of my students wrote “hallo, I I thanks so much Chrast.” He meant Christ, in case you were wondering. Another time a student wrote “sanks,” instead of “thanks.” The first few times I introduced myself it went like this. “Jina langu Anthony.” “Antoni?” “Anthony.” “Ansoni?” “J.J., sema J.J.” People love calling me J.J. here. In Kiswahili, “je” means “do,” or “how.” So, in other words, calling me J.J. is almost the same as having the nickname “what, what.”
However, I think the funniest common mistake has to do with “r” and “l.” In Kiswahili, “r” and “l” are completely interchangeable. At one point I thought that people were saying two different words when they were one and the same, just pronounced differently. There also aren’t any words that end in a consonant, so they usually add random vowels at the end of a word, or sometimes in the middle. So, for example, there is almost no difference when they say, “play,” or “pray.” So one day, when I was working on pronunciation, I was thinking of monosyllabic words with an “l” or “r”. I wrote “roll and roller” and then “clap and clapper.” These came out “rorlrli and rorlrrlrlaa.” Coincidentally, they pronounce the name “Laura” very similarly. I hadn’t thought of it when I wrote “clap” and “clapper” on the board, so I was shocked to here forty students all saying in unison “crap,” “crappa.” I laughed uncontrollably for about five minutes. I thought “I gotta explain this in Kiswahili.” “ukikuenda crapper, ni kama kuchuchumaa choni. It was their turn to laugh. The “r” and “l” thing has been a source of constant hilarity. For example, last week, I was asked to be a sort of judge when our school debated another about the merits of a multi-party system or a single party system of government. I sat there intently listening and jotting down notes, when one student got up and in a very fervor filled fashion stated “yah, so the multi-party erection is much better than the single party erection because it give the better freedom.” I don’t know if I’ve ever been with 300 people or so and been the only one to get the joke before.
The students and Andrew and I have an in-joke that we find really funny, though I don’t know if the humor will translate to the page (or webpage, I suppose). So, in Andrew’s chemistry class, he was talking about buffers, when all the students in the class erupted in laughter. Andrew though maybe buffer sounded like a dirty word and Kiswahili or something, but the students just informed him that they just thought it was a funny word. The next day I used for pronunciation practice. I was able to get them from saying “buffa,” to “buffer” with a hard e and a rolled r at the end. Close enough for me, I suppose. So, now, anytime someone says or does something funny or ridiculous, or maybe if there is an awkward pause, someone usually yells buffer.
Nearly everybody here has the same basic problems or errors when they speak in English. For example, they constantly say the word “somehow” when they want to say “somewhat.” Improper use of punctuation, capitalization, just general word choice, abound. Also, people often phrase things in a very awkward way. For example, the habit I’ve been trying hardest to break my students of is saying things like, “he likes so much to go to school.” Part of the problem extends from the word sana, because it can mean “so much,” “so many,” “very,” “really,” “a lot,” in English. You see they study English very similarly to the way we might study dead languages like Latin or Greek, in our education system. They don’t speak it, learn to understand native speakers, or pronounce things in a way that native speakers understand. There are definitely no oral exams. In many schools, the teachers themselves may never have talked to a native speaker. What happens is the teachers write the notes in English, explain them in Kiswahili, and then the students are tested in English. The knowledge is completely compartmentalized. In other words, if they have a math problem, they can solve it. Give them a word problem and they’re screwed. To complicate matters even further, I’ve only met a handful of teachers who are themselves proficient, let alone fluent, in English. In some of the classes I’ve sat in on, they’ve explained things in Kiswahili in an English literature course! Also, the teachers make obvious errors for example, spelling successful “succesiful” (the way they say it). Another time, a teacher wrote on the board “what is the roles of literature.” I’ve noticed that people have these massive vocabularies, but make constant errors with really basic stuff like verb tense, syntax, plural and singular, pronoun use, capitalization, simple punctuation, articles, and prepositions. That’s what the education system focuses on I also use a much simpler English vocabulary than other teachers I’ve seen. It’s like they expect everyone to run before they walk. What ends up happening is they misuse complicated words, and improperly construct complex sentences. They also constantly use antiquated terms. They speak like a British guy 70 years ago, and for a very good reason, the translations were made 70 years ago by stuffy British academics, and it hasn’t been updates since! Instead of saying, “do it this way,” someone might say “do it thusly.” It’s like an education system run by college freshmen. If they explained things in a simple way, they wouldn’t have to teach in Kiswahili. They also use a very imperfect immersion system. They call it English medium, but I would estimate they speak in Kiswahili 70% of the day. Even the signs “Speak English” should read “Speak in English.” Also, the time for English is split between grammar and literature, so there isn’t as much time devoted to actually learning the language. Essentially, the way the education system is set up, all they really need to be able to do is read English. They don’t need fluency or proficiency, or even the ability to apply their English in real world situations. They just need to pass the national exams (more on that later).
You might find yourself asking why they learn in English at all. I’ve asked myself the same question many times, and indeed, so do the people who run the Ministry of Education. Here are basically the two sides of the debate. Our student’s aren’t learning a usable or correct form of English, so we might as well just teach in Kiswahili so they understand the material better, and make English something optional (like foreign language in U.S. schools). But here is the other side of the coin. There are certain concepts you simply can’t explain in Kiswahili. It’s nearly impossible to explain how light can be both a wave and a particle. Or how something could be hermaphroditic or asexual. Kiswahili developed as a trade language, not one to be used for academic discourse. Also, all the science, social science, math, etc. words that they use, pretty much come from English anyway. Plus, if they have any hopes for defending themselves from the onslaught of globalism, they need to an international language (I say international language, and not English, because due to the increasing influence of China in the area, it would be better for them to learn Chinese).
Kiswahil, for all its faults as an academic language, has been one of the key things in Tanzania’s (relative) success. I mean, every other country in East Africa has been an absolute shit show at some point since its independence. It has a lot to do with their first president Julius Nyrere. The guy was a genius, it’s too bad nobody has been nearly as effective since. He’s responsible more than anyone else for the spread of Kiswahili (or in English ,Swahili, to clarify). Originally, it started as a trade language, not a native tongue. Arabic traders (read: slave traders) definitely influenced its initial spread. German colonists also spread it to help them (where as the English spread English). But instead of being a trade and slave language, Nyrere turned it into something different. Kiswahili is unique in some aspects because aside from the youth, or in places like Dar or Zanzibar, it’s no one’s first language. Tanzania is the only (or at least was at one time, I’m not really sure) African country to have an African language as its main official language. It’s the only African language that is an official language of the African Union*. It’s a great source of national pride. Also, where other countries have been wracked with tribal tensions, and in some cases warfare and genocide, Tanzania has remained stable. It’s a safer country than the U.S. This is largely due to the national unity a common language brings to places with artificial borders put in place during the scramble for Africa by European powers. But partially, its prominence holds Tz back from learning other languages. Americans don’t learn other languages, really, but we’re luck enough to have an international language as our native tongue. However, outside of East Africa (Kiswahili is used in Kenya, and its use is spreading in Zambia, Rwanda, Uganda, Burundi, and even as far away as Somolia), it’s basically useless. Any Tanzanian or native Swahili speaker I meet in the States is going to speak better English than I speak Swahili.
I think, in some ways, it’s because of this that many outside groups are hesitating to pump their resources into teaching English. The Peace Corps, lest we forget, was started to make Americans look good abroad, and that continues to be part of its mission. So, all the Peace Corps education volunteers I have met all teach math and sciences. I think, honestly, it would be better to pump most of them into English medium primary (elementary) schools, so student understand the material better later on. But the U.S. government would never do that because it smacks too much of imperialism for them to improve their image. I mean, they do need good math and science teachers, but I think in a holistic sense, teaching young people English is more sustainable and versatile. I mean, the education system is ALREADY IN ENGLISH. Though there are many problems besides the level of English, I still think it is the best solution.
And there are many other problems. In other disciplines, while tutoring the students I’ve noticed some pretty glaring errors, and not just with grammar. The other day, I was looking at their geography notes**. Under the heading “Other causes of earthquake” it listened such things as “volcanic activity,” “human development like excavation and mining,” “landslides,” and “animals stampedes.” It later said something like minor tremors, but they did already call it an earthquake. Awesome. I’ve noticed a number of errors in the textbooks themselves. Here is one verbatim:
Simple Prepositions: These are prepositions which are not formed by any method and are common to a language [comma use sic plus the fact that the sentence doesn’t make sense]. They formed [sic] by one word. Such prepositions are as follows: At [capitalization, sic],by [comma use sic] for, from, in, off on, out, through, till up with, after, since, via, per, than town [wtf??? sic], past under to over, but round.
Examples:
She is at the bus stop.
He fell off the lorry [note, this is the U.K. word, the U.S. word is truck]
Rukia is killed by her husband [Wha? What the fuck? I mean seriously, people, a correct sentence, but huh?]
And that’s their textbook! You might think that’s bad, but at least my students have textbooks. The writers of the book only had their B.A. too. Also of the problem has to do with the ministry of education. They are the ones who allow this crap to be printed. The language system is basically based on an antiquated preWW2 era British system. Most of the schools are boarding schools. The have primary school standard I-VII, which is basically kindergarten through 6th grade. Form I and II are basically 7th and 8th grade, forms III and IV are 9th and 10th, and O level and A level are 11th and 12th grade. From III and IV students range in age from 17-28. If you are not familiar with the U.K. system today, the education system in Harry Potter is based on the old model. There is virtually no continuous assessment; instead, they have the national exams. National exams are a big deal the have one at the end of Form II, Form IV, and A level. Again, with the Harry Potter, they are like the O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S. They cost money to take, involve a lengthy registration process, and have police officers with AK-47 at the door to prevent cheating (seriously). I’ve looked at these exams. I’m a college educated native English speaker, an I found the English exam confusing as hell. Andrew described the Physics exam this way: “a M.I.T. physics prof would get a 70% on the exam because the questions are so unclear and misleading.” I guess it’s a good thing they only need like a 30% or 40% to pass.
You might find yourself asking why use these exams at all. Well, in a sense, the government is stuck. They don’t have enough qualified teachers. Like in the States, the money lies in government work, business, etc. Places like Tz suffer from major brain drain. Many who get enough education expat. Most teachers don’t go to college. This basically means the same thing as having someone who just finished high school teaches 10th grade. In small isolated places, people who complete standard VII teach standard II or something. This means a 7th grader teaches 3rd grade. In the past few years, the government has built 2000 schools, but this means dick bupkiss if there aren’t teachers. Without some sort of accreditation process, these exams are the only thing the government can do to create some sort of semblance of consistency. So yeah, problems exist at the schools here, but these are good schools. The students, at least, have enough teachers and freakin’ libraries. Many schools can’t boast that. I’ll give you and an example, there is a school not so far from here that a couple years ago had 700 students and 4 teachers. It was a new school, all the students failed their exams, the students left, and the school went bankrupt. But this has turned into a success story. One of the best teachers from Hanga Seminary became headmaster there. He is doing everything right. He’s building it in a sustainable way. They are building an adequate library before the buy books so they remain in good condition. Right now, they have about 100 students (and they all passed their last round of exams). Right now, there are 10 teachers and he wants to increase the student body to 200 and no more. It’s sustainable that way both for the education of the students, and for the amount of food they need. Plug, plug, when I get back to the States, I’m going to try and fundraise them a library, and I’m also going to try and help get them a Peace Corp volunteer. But other problems exist. Legally, the headmaster or his (realistically only his and not hers) proxy is able to administer four strokes as a punishment. To beat a student otherwise is illegal. There are a lot of things illegal in Tanzania. There are also a lot of things that are never prosecuted. A cop is much more likely to (illegally, only immigration can do that) ask a white person traveling through town for their papers, hoping for a bribe, than to bust a school for corporal punishment. Now, at all the schools in Hanga it is strictly prohibited with varying degrees of enforcement. Other schools, it is certainly commonplace. Also, at some schools it depends on the teacher. If the teacher has a degree, and therefore indispensable, than they can do whatever they damn well please. It also depends a lot on the personal leadership of the headmaster. For me, if I see it, I have the knowledge to say you can’t do this. A teacher can’t counter with “this is our culture” because it is against their law. If the headmaster consents, my hands are completely tied. Now, I don’t want to paint an overly dark picture, that would be unfair and outright incorrect, but there are things that leap out to me as major problems. For example, it is not just common place, but almost assumed, that male teachers are having sex with one or more of their students. For the girls, it’s the possibility of a guaranteed benefactor. Now, I’d say this has more to do with the promiscuous culture that school abuse issues (make of that what you will). Again, in Hanga this is strictly prohibited, as these are Catholic schools (and it definitely never happens at the Seminary because it is all male, and there’s no pederasty, because of how homophobic this country is) and I would say it would be way more unheard of than beating and immediately punished. However, there was a case a few years ago that a girls schools that is a Catholic school where the from IV students pimped out the form I and IIs to villagers and collected money. Once it was discovered, it was stopped, but still. To an extent we have a self-perpetuating cycle. The repression done by some current teachers will lead to the next generation thinking it is acceptable. Now, as an outsider and a person who doesn’t know all the details, and can’t always make a clear observation I would stand behind under oath, I would say that some of the schools in Tanzania remind me more of a scene out of Cool Hand Luke than a place of education.
But you need to remember reading this that their culture is different than ours. Corporal punishment in all circumstance is more acceptable. Also, living in what we would see as cramped conditions, is totally normal. Some people wouldn’t know what do to if they had a room as big as the average American teenager. That’s one thing I see no problem with (other than the communicability of disease). Also, the sexual dominance of older men over young girls is something that needs to be addressed at a societal level. In some ways many cultures throughout human history have considered this behavior normal. The best approach a volunteer or someone else can take is to talk about health issues and STDs for prevention, or help establish adequate social services. Anger or outrage doesn’t do any good. Only smart, calculated, and informed action does.
I’d also like to point out that it is usually really good here. Students are happy. Teachers are happy. Sometimes the shit hits the fan, but not often. In terms of the bad stuff, the same thing happens in the States. And at least these schools don’t have crack to deal with. Or metal detectors at their doors. In many ways, the education gap in the States is much more disgusting, because the most powerful country in the world could solve it’s education problems in a year with all the money is spends on weapons that can potentially kill civilians, or the money spent on that second Escalade or Hummer. I mean, I think we have all had one or two teachers who were essentially useless, but had a job because they were a really good coach, or the school’s turn-over rate and pay were too crappy to keep the talented folks around. If you are thinking “what can I do?,” I have a couple answers, but most people won’t like ‘um. Become a long-term volunteer. If you stay short term it doesn’t do a whole lot in terms of impact (but it might for the personal growth of the volunteer). Donate to scholarships, but make sure they aren’t mismanaged or misappropriated. Or, become an educator yourself or help the kids in your local area. It’s easier, and more effective. DON’T send a bunch of shitty books to Africa. The bookshelves here are littered with Harlequin romance novels, or classics the students can’t read and don’t apply to their lives. There is a Spanish textbook here. Great, I’m the only one in Hanga that can use it. The money spent on the postage could buy them English-Swahili dictionaries or encyclopedias that they need much more. Or Scholarships. Make the smart choice and not one that alleviates a guilt conscience or give a feeling of false-self-accomplishment.
So I came into this wondering whether or not I was qualified. As it turns out, I am hyper-qualified by comparison. Also, you need to remember that having a diploma, degree, or certification helps a lot to assure quality levels, but it doesn’t make someone a good teacher or even more intelligent and wise. Just because a teacher doesn’t have one doesn’t mean they are a bad teacher. Likewise, I’d like to think I’m a good teacher because I’m smart and I care. But who knows, maybe I am totally screwing these guys over because I’ve spent most of my time on teaching them how to use prepositions and verb tenses instead of things like writing recipes (it’s on the nation syllabus, really) or cramming a bunch of wordy impressive sounding vocabulary in their heads. Either way, these guys really make me want to come back to Tz and to be an educator wherever I go. Also, high school pretty much sucks wherever you go. I guess the only thing I can say with certainty is we all gotta keep trying. So, crap for multipartison erections, and sank Chrast for what you’ve got.
Post Script.
I didn’t know where this would fit in here, so I’m adding it as a post script. For some reason, people here freaking love professional wrestling. I can’t describe my confusion when my students (multiple times and parties) asked me “yah, so do you know John Cena.” “Who the hell is John Cena?” “Yeah, he’s very strong, and he’s so famous in America.” “Really.” “You know wrestling is fake, right?” “No, not.” “Then how come their faces aren’t bruised and bloody after the fight like they are in boxing.” “Yah, because they are very strong.” “Whatever guys.”
*Something like 30% of Kiswahili comes from Arabic, and large amounts come from English, German, and a lesser extent Portuguese, so, to be fair, it is somewhat debatable whether or not it can be considered a truly African language.
** So, when they reach O level and A level or university, they are channeled into different disciplines, and there isn’t a whole lot of choice in what you do. For example, one path is English, Kiswahili, and geography. The study of geography has nothing to do with linguistics. These just happen to be the three easiest subjects to pass the test in. Sigh. PBC, or physics, biology, and chemistry are the most difficult and sought after. If you can’t do, teach. If you can’t teach, teach Geography.
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