5:00 a.m. – My alarm goes off. It’s already getting light
outside because this part of Mozambique
is technically in the wrong time zone. It’s getting light by 5 a.m. and getting
dark by 5 p.m. I can already hear people moving around on the streets outside
the compound. But it still feels early.
6:10 a.m. – I say a hasty good-bye to Mark and then wait
anxiously as he unlocks the door and the padlock on the outer door so I can run
to the compound gate to catch the chapa I’ll
take out to Rapale.
6:15 a.m. – Three kids and I climb on the chapa.
6:30 a.m. – We’ve made it through downtown Nampula and have
picked up 11 of the 12 kids remaining. Because I’m a teacher (and maybe because
I’m white?), I have the front seat next to the driver. The 15 kids are crammed
into the back of what would be a 12-passenger van in the U.S. I wrestle
with a moral dilemma: none of the children have seatbelts, nor are they
remotely safe in the chapa. I have a
seatbelt. Should I use it, even though all these children don’t have that
luxury? I finally decide to clip the belt into place. If we roll over, maybe I
won’t be as injured and can help all of the injured children.
6:40 a.m. – We’ve clattered and bumped our way down part of
the dusty red road to Rapale. We have one more child to pick up. He’s not at
his stop, so we turn down a smaller dusty red road and ride between mud huts
roofed with grasses. People who may or may not ever have been into a town stare
at this chapa full of Zimbabwean kids
and one white woman. We pull up to the last child’s house. The driver turns on
his siren (his siren? I didn’t know he had a siren on his chapa!) and all the kids cheer and hoot and holler. The boy comes
out of his house and joins the crowded benches.
7:20 a.m. – We arrive at Rapale. Prayers have been answered
and the chapa has once again made it
over the ruts and rocks without breaking down or rolling over. I shake off the
tension of the ride and get ready for the school day. I look at the unusually
beautiful mountains surrounding the school and can’t believe I get to teach
here.
7:40 a.m. – Teachers share a quick devotion time together
and pray while kids play in the school yard.
8:00 a.m. – School starts with the ringing of a cowbell.
Kids line up in the school yard and walk in an orderly fashion into their
classrooms. I take up residence in the staff room/library. I open up my
computer and my 1956 edition of The
Abridged Dewey Decimal System and begin cataloging the books to the best of
my ability. Next week I’ll be in charge of monitoring upper high school
students as they work on chemistry, physics, and biology to prepare for the
IGCSE (the English version of the SAT, I’ve heard), but they haven’t arrived in
Moz yet.
10:30 a.m. – Children swarm the playground, which is mostly
a dusty area covered sparsely with grass and a few trees. My goodness how these kids can climb trees!
One kid brought a soccer ball, so some kids are playing an unorganized game of
soccer. Excuse me, a game of football. The
teachers gather in the staff room/library for tea or Milo ,
my new favorite unsweetened chocolaty beverage. A break for hot drinks! I’m
going to suggest that we take up this tradition at the library.
11:00 a.m. – I finally get to teach! Today I’m teaching 8th
and 9th graders. Only two in the class now, but two more will be
coming in a week or two. We’re studying chemistry. Right now we’re reviewing
material from last year, so classes are pretty low-key, mostly note-taking and
talking through the material. The kids are troopers, though, and patiently
waiting for some more hands-on work.
12:30 p.m. – Lunch time finds kids gathering on the edge of
the veranda to eat their lunches and drink their water, brought from home. Then
they play. Teachers gather in the staff room to drink another cup of tea,
coffee, or Milo , or to stand in line for the
copy machine. It’s not all work and no play, though. This is a very fun group
of teachers.
1:00 p.m. – Only one hour of school left. I sit down at the
computer and realize I’ve lost the last half hour of work I did before lunch.
Apparently our building doesn’t get enough energy to power both the computer
and the electric kettle at the same time. I figure out which books need to be
cataloged again and then start cataloging new books, making a mental note to
myself to figure out where computers and Internet should go in Dewey Decimal,
since my archaic abridged copy doesn’t include those subjects.
2:00 p.m. – I pack up my stuff, take a deep breath, and
climb on the chapa again, praying
that we stay upright, don’t run over anyone on a bike or on foot, and that the
engine and tires hold out over the hilly bumpy road.
3:30 p.m. – I step through the compound gate, a little
dustier, and very tired, but happy.
--Hillary
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