My Friday

Friday is swimming day for standard 5, always an interesting endeavour. Particularly so this week as I nearly drowned. One of the older girls swam out too far and grabbed onto a volunteer in panic, dragging her under the water. I went over to help and held out a float, but she grabbed me instead and pushed me under. She had her hands on my head, I couldn't breathe, move or see. The other volunteer was still trying to get her breath back and pull the kid off me, but she wasn't strong enough. I kept trying to resurface but I couldn't get up from beneath her.
It was terrifying. I genuinely thought I was going to die in a pool full of people who just hadn't noticed because we weren't making any noise. Eventually I managed to push the child off and find the wall. I hauled myself up and wheezed like a beached whale for about 10 minutes, much to the consternation of everyone else who had no idea what had happened. I thought I was going to have an asthma attack, I was shaking and my chest felt like someone was punching it from the inside. I managed to reassure the kids before sneaking into the loo to hyperventilate and reassure myself that I was actually alive.

So not a great start to the weekend, but I was so thrilled to be still breathing that I made the most of our night out. We started dancing around midnight and I was still on the dance floor at 5am after only 3 Fanta breaks. It was one of those nights when you forget theres other people on the dancefloor and just dance and dance like the music's in your veins, like you'll die if you stop, regardless of how cheesy or repetitive the music actually is. We stopped at 5.30 for cheeseburgers and I convinced everyone to come to the beach to watch the sunrise.
We got there at 6am and there were already people swimming and running, setting up stalls, getting ready for the day. We found a quiet spot and snuggled up for warmth listening to the blues on someones phone. A couple of people got tired and left, but 3 of us stuck it out and got to see the sun blaze into the sky and across the water. It's funny to think that sunrise is something thats happened every single day of my life yet I've rarely seen it. I went for a walk along the water's edge as the sun began to fill the sky and the water turned orange. Drowning, dancing and sunsets on the beach: my Friday in Mombasa. :)

Hamisi

One of the great things about being here long term is that you get to see the progress of individual kids. When I met Standard 5 in January, Hamisi was the quiet, nervous kid who sat in the back of the class and read his Kiswahili Bible during lunchtime. He jumped if I spoke to him and the other kids laughed when I asked him to read aloud, causing him to pretend not to hear me and tie his shoelace or start writing. He had quite poor English and was the only one in the class who went for one to one reading, making him a target for the kids to poke fun of.
When we drew up our classroom rules we agreed that laughing at people was against the rule to be kind to eachother and from then on, anyone who made fun of Hamisi (or anyone else) was sent out of the classroom. I started asking him to read sections I knew he could manage without difficulty and got him to read a line or 2 more each time. Two of the older boys, Joseph Reuben and Fikiri, took Hamisi under their wing and began to threaten anyone who mocked him. He gradually grew less afraid of reading in class and one day, about a month ago, I asked for volunteers to come up and do a guessing exercise in English-and Hamisi raised his hand! It was the first time he ever volunteered for anything, I was so chuffed. Since then he's been coming on more and more, reading constantly in his spare time and asking if he doesn't understand something.

The best moment was last week when I got the kids to pretend to be news readers. They were in teams of 3-news, sports and weather-and each kid had to write a report and read it at a desk in front of the class. Two kids were too shy and when Hamisi's team came up I was afraid he would be too, I started mentally berating myself for putting him on the spot.
He sat down, looked at his notes, then calmly set them on the desk, looked around the room and said in a clear, confident voice: "Welcome to KTC News. I am Hamisi. Weather tomorrow will from 3pm to 6.30 be sunny, then wind from 12 to 4am. After that, rain, then again sunny. Thank you."
The room went silent. One kid whispered something incredulously in Swahili and I caught the word "HAMISI?!" Then in a spectacularly cheesy Disney movie moment, the kids all started clapping spontaneously as Hamisi beamed and took his seat. I was grinning like an idiot, I was so proud of him.

If anyone reading this used to teach Hamisi, thank you for your hard work and for not giving up. You guys put in the ground work and now I'm getting to see the results. I hope that the next volunteer Standard 5 gets is able to see even more progress, for him and all the kids. As westerners we come to expect instant results but thats not what Olives is about. It's the gradual changes that will last, and if we don't get to see them happen while we're here it doesn't mean we've achieved nothing, only that the next volunteer will benefit from and hopefully build upon our hard work.

Hamisi

Corporal Punishment

I've been avoiding writing this entry, but I want this blog to be an honest account of my time in Kenya and that has to include the bad as well as the good. Corporal punishment has been illegal in Kenya for over a decade but is still a normal part of Kenyan society-and school life. Obviously, GVI does not condone it, but it still happens behind our backs and its a constant struggle to persuade local teachers (all of whom I respect and like on a personal level) that beating a kid is not the only way to gain their respect.

It came to a head the other day when I sent 2 of my Standard 5 kids outside for messing (anyone who knows St 5 can guess which 2!) and they ran back in 10 minutes later sobbing hysterically and curled up at their desks. It took me a few minutes to decipher that one of the new teachers had found them and caned them.
 I'm not good with confrontation, it makes me feel physically sick, but I was so angry I was literally shaking. I walked up to the teacher before I could lose my nerve and asked if he had caned them. He nodded and I told him that while I appreciated him trying to help me (that was hard to choke out) I don't cane my students as it is illegal and I morally object to the hypocrisy of telling children not to be violent and then beating them til they scream. He looked a bit surprised and then said he hadn't caned them, just made them kneel on the hard ground. I said regardless of what he had done it was my class and I can discipline my own students my own way and that I'd appreciate if he didn't interfere in future. I walked away to tell a staff member and managed to get outside the school gate before I burst into angry tears.

Later that day I found 1 of my tiny Standard 1 pupils sobbing under her desk and discovered she had been beaten by a teacher I have great respect for and consider a friend. I understand that he genuinely loves the kids and sees beating them as being cruel to be kind, its the only method of discipline he's ever been shown, but it's hard sometimes to separate my feelings towards him from my feelings about caning. I spoke with the staff that night and they agreeed that something needed to be done. GVI arranged a meeting with the teachers on discipline and I attended with 2 staff members. I was apprehensive and pretty pessimistic about getting any results.

I was pleasantly surprised by the headteacher's reaction though. Mr Stephen said that he was beaten in school and it made him fear and hate the teachers who hurt him. He said we need to encourage children to respect us through mutual trust, not violence, and asked me and the staff how we manage our classes. I had the chance to talk about classroom management techniques and alternative ways of disciplining students and some of the local teachers made suggestions too. I had been worried it would seem like we were judging and lecturing them and just get their backs up, but they all seemed receptive and interested. We agreed that the teachers and volunteers all need to set firm boundaries and enforce the rules but in a non-violent way.
I'm not expecting dramatic changes overnight: this is Africa! But the fact that Mr Stephen made his position clear after a long time of ambivilence means at least it's being reinforced by their own management and it's not just GVI imposing a western approach. The teachers all genuinely love the kids and want whats best for them, they just need to see that caning is not the only way to get results.
I'm hopeful. :)

Cave lessons

At the caves last week I had the kind of lesson that reminds me why Im here. I brought a box of colouring pencils, paper and reading books and stumbled my way down the steps to find 8 kids sitting patiently on the dance podium. I showed them the goodies and they gasped and clapped their hands in excitement. One kid clasped his hands together and whispered "Thank you Lord Jesus!" We sat down and talked about our families, then wrote about it and drew pictures. The kids all worked away as I walked around and checked their work.
3 of the kids were very little and didnt have any english, so I gave them an alphabet jigsaw to do. When I went to check on them there was an 8 year old boy sitting with them pointing to the letters and getting the kids to call them out. By the end of the lesson he had them singing the alphabet song! As the older kids finished their work I gave them books to read and without me having to ask they went to the younger kids and read to them. More and more kids appeared and just settled into the lesson and I sat in the middle and watched them teach eachother and work away, sharing their pencils and tearing paper in half to share it. The sun was streaming down through the leaves and the crickets were chirping in the background as 22 street kids bent over their books and read together. It was a perfect moment.

Swimming lessons!

So we had our first swimming lesson with Standard 5... :) On the walk to Sanana gym we asked the kids if they could swim and got confident "Yes Madams!" from at least 10 of the 13. Then we got in the water and watched as they proceeded to flail wildly in panic or slowly sink to the bottom.

We managed to organise them into advanced (Those who could stay afloat without drowning) and beginners ( those who clung wildly to my leg and screamed when the water splashed them.) We practised holding our breath under water, kicking our legs while holding the float, and staying afloat without crippling Madam Miriam. Joseph Katana somehow managed to always start kicking juuust as I passed behind him. Bless his cotton socks. I accidentally splashed him back after the 5th time. :) 

It was so much fun, I cant wait for next Friday. Although I may invest in goggles and waterproof armour...

Swim Juliana, swim!

Staying calm and in control... :)

Teaching Winnie to float.

Persuading Gilbert to get in.

Medical Camp

We managed to get in touch with the local AAR emergency medical centre and they volunteered to come to Olives for a day of free medical care for the whole village including consultation, treatment, counselling and most ambitious of all-free on the spot HIV testing. The local villagers were shy to come at first but Mr Joseph got on his megaphone and blared welcome messages throughout the village as the kids persuaded their parents to come along.
The day started at 8am and went on til 5.30. I got there at around 2pm to find the schoolyard full of people waiting patiently as AAR staff and offered diagnoses, prepared medicine, performed HIV tests and counselled those whose results were positive. The volunteers slotted in where needed: filling in paperwork, dispensing drugs, entertaining the scores of children milling around bored. I read stories and amused the whingy toddlers while their parents went for their HIV tests. I went for one myself and it was really nervewrecking waiting to see if the test would show one line for negative or two for positive. It must be terrifying for someone who suspects they might be positive.
We got through about 400 people that day and AAR have promised to come again. Thats 400 people getting treatment they could never otherwise afford. For me the most encouraging thing was that most people went for the HIV tests, despite the fact that their neighbours and friends were all within earshot. In a country where AIDS is still stigmatised to the point of possible ostracisation, thats a huge step. It was one of those days where change doesnt seem so impossible after all. :)

HIV Counselling session

Me and my Olives homies.

Ian, David and Joshua-masala mango time!

My man, Ayub ( the kid who asked about goat sex)

Chillin with Raphael and Brian