Experiencing Chimwemwe

One of my recent jobs has been to write the reports for MCC's Global Family program about Chimwemwe and Aisha schools. Here are some "sneak-peak" excerpts from the Chimwemwe report.

Chimwemwe School describes itself as a “community of committed Christians engaged in…action for the purpose of equipping vulnerable children, with primary and secondary education.” Under these guidelines, the school regularly takes a sympathetic approach to those who cannot afford the school fees. Not only has it stretched the Global Family funds to cover as many children as possible, but it also regularly forgoes charging fees on the poorest students. Nearly the entire Grade One and Two classes, I am told, pay no fees. As a result, teacher allowances are often very small, because there is not much money remaining after necessary maintenance has been done. Global Family funds have been greatly appreciated because they provide at least some steady income for the school.

The school also added Grade 10 this year to allow those who did not get into government schools a chance to continue their education. This was also valuable because many of these students are in vulnerable situations and several are already mothers. Unlike other schools, Chimwemwe encouraged these young mothers to return to school to complete their education.

There are some exciting developments at Chimwemwe this fall. Last report mentioned that MCC had donated some computers for the school. Computer classes have begun for teachers, the deaf class, and Grade 10s, and more students will begin their lessons next term. Teachers have been busy learning computer basics – first typing and now word processing. The deaf class, many of whom are quite young, eagerly await their computer lessons and are delighted by the educational programs they are using. There has also been a very fortunate connection made with a local businessman who will be providing high-speed internet and computer based educational resources to the school as a pilot project. This will be installed shortly and will greatly increase the educational potential of the computers, as well as give the school another income generation activity.

There was also much excitement over the recent Independence Day celebrations. The school held a competition for its students in dancing, singing, modelling traditional costumes, and lip synching. Over 300 kids from the local community attended the six hour extravaganza! Since there are few other recreational opportunities within the compounds, any events that are held are eagerly anticipated.

The next couple of months will be a time of change at Chimwemwe. First the Grade 7s and then the Grade 9s will be writing their national examinations. For many of them this will be their last time at the school – some will do well enough to gain a place at a government school, others will fail and will likely quit school. Festivities such as a football match between the teachers and the Grade 9s and an annual Christmas party will be held to mark the occasion

Excerpts from Report by Chamunji K. Mpundu, Executive Director

Chimwemwe is trying by next year to really improve the conditions of studying of other underprivileged children, specifically the physically disabled and the deaf children. They fall into a program called the Community Deaf and Hard of Hearing Children Concern (CODHAC), an educational programme under Chimwemwe Trust School.

We do not know yet how we are going to support our Global Family sponsored children who are now going to Grade 8, 9, 10, or 11 as our scholarship program can cater for just 20 to 28 children at the lower grades only. The older children need help because otherwise they will end up compromising and get infected with HIV/AIDS and will wallow in deep poverty or become transformed into criminals. Currently, very few children who went to Chimwemwe School have been able to afford the high fees of government secondary schools. Some have been forced to get married and others forced to start selling biscuits, cigarettes, and vegetables to earn at least $1.50 US per day for food. Others are still in the street with nothing to do. We are looking at ways to address this situation at a community level as fast as possible.

Experiencing Chimwemwe

“Chimwemwe” is a Nyanjan word meaning happiness after a long period of hardship. When the Biblical Israelites wandered through the desert in hardship until God miraculously provided them with manna, they were experiencing chimwemwe. This seems like an apt metaphor for the school – many children here have had tremendous hardships in their lives but have been given the opportunity to learn.

I had the opportunity to meet with one such family. Laksina Lungu, a widow since 2002, has three children currently sponsored by Global Family – her fourteen year old grandson Chiso Banda (a double orphan since 2005), and her thirteen and twelve year old daughters Dothy and Grace Mwale – all of whom are currently in Grade Four. She is currently taking care of fifteen children, some of whom are her own, and others her grandchildren (five of her children have died). Some of these have dropped out of school while others, such as Moses (age 12), have had their education interrupted due to family tragedies and lack of funds. The family has very little income except for small amounts made by Laksina in a small home-based business. Fortunately, Laksina’s husband had built a house before his death so they are not paying rent, but the family’s income is barely enough for food, let alone education.

Life is tough for these kids, particularly the girls. The house has no water so all have to fetch water every day. This involves loading several twenty litre jugs into a wheelbarrow, waiting in the queue at the communal tap, and then carefully hauling the water back home. The girls also have to cook, wash dishes, and take care of the younger children. Grace also says that she is up before sunrise to sweep the house before school. As is typical in Zambian society, Chiso is responsible for far less housework than his female cousins.

The children are all eager to learn at school. All the children identified reading as one of their favourite parts of school. They also enjoy typical childhood activities – playing sports and reading books. Chiso aspires to be a doctor, Dothy a teacher, and Grace a nurse. Laksina has more modest goals; she just hopes that with the education the children are receiving they will be able to support her when she is older. Certainly, the Global Family sponsorships have allowed some hope for the future, some sense of “chimwemwe” in an otherwise difficult situation.

COSAFA Champions!

After recent attending the Zambia vs South Africa football match I was hooked. I knew that I needed to see all the Chipolopolo boys matches that were in town. It was just my luck that this weekend again there was another match - this time the COSAFA Cup final between Zambia and Angola. The COSAFA Cup is an annual competition between nations like Angola, South Africa, Namibia, Lesotho, Swaziland, Madagascar, Seychelles, Zimbabwe, Mozambique, Zambia, Botswana, Malawi, and maybe a couple of more.

There had been a lot of fear among the folks here – Angola after all was at the World Cup this past year. I think I was the only person I know to actually predict a Zambian victory. The pessimistic attitude was mirrored by the attendance which was quite low compared to the last game I was at – although it filled up over the course of the game. The police presence was very high and they were heavily armed with tear gas and beating sticks – I think last time they played Angola there was a riot.

Contrary to the predictions of most, Zambia played incredible football – wonderful runs, great setups, excellent midfield play. After peppering the net with shots for the first half it was still 0-0, but their luck would change in about the 60^th minute or so. Luckily, Zambia was shooting at the net on our end in the second half so we got a very good look at both goals, one in the 60^th minute or so and the other right near the end. When Zambia scored the first time the crowd erupted in ecstatics. It was a moving sea of human joy swelling with the emotions of a long awaited goal against a fearsome opponent. I have not seen the sheer joy of the crowd ever mirrored in any of the North American sporting events I have attended. When Zambia scored a second time everyone knew the match was done. Joyous pandemonium ensued but remained peaceful throughout the stadium. The crowd roar continued as Zambia’s captain hoisted the COSAFA Cup and the team paraded it around the pitch (which was, at this time, surrounded by riot police to prevent the chance of a pitch invasion.

The walk home was an experience in itself. Of the hour long walk home, probably forty minutes were spent walking by kids waving branches, singing songs, and chanting “Go, Zambia, Go.” Everyone, it seemed, was out on the street to celebrate. All the vehicles passing by honked, yelled, and/or gave signals of victory. Apparently I had been shown on the TV broadcast not only once, but twice, so many people recognized me on the way home and were excited to see me. Not only was I the muzungu, I was a muzungu wearing a Zambia football scarf, and had been on TV – a triple threat. It will be a party tonight in the compound! Also cool was that we saw the Angolan national team drive right past us in their team bus, heavily guarded by a police motorcade.

One interesting element of the football match and the party afterwards was the political overtones associated with the celebrations. The raised fist – which I had assumed was related to black power – is actually the symbol for the Patriotic Front political party. The street celebrations included rowing motions (to go along with their motto “get on the boat”) and people shouting Pabwato – Bemba for we are on the boat now. The symbols used to celebrate this victory for the nation are the same as they use to campaign for a political party that is, while incredibly popular in the city, a minority nationwide.

Unfortunately this is the last of the Chipolopolo boys till March or May. I will eagerly be awaiting their return!

After School Activities

Canadian kids are used to numerous extracurricular activities. Whether it is music, sports, drama, yearbook making, or any number of possibilities, many students are involved in at least something. I know, for myself, that it was these activities, particularly in high school, that form some of the best memories.

Zambian students do not always get these opportunities. At community schools, since the teachers are not paid a salary anyway, it takes particularly devoted individuals to dedicate their time to after school activities. So there are not many activities for kids to participate in after school. They, too, have obligations: younger siblings to take care of, food to cook, and houses to clean. Yet, if my experience thus far has been any indication, there is an insatiable appetite for any activity one can offer.

I have been able to start up three after school programs and join in on a fourth. At Chimwemwe School I have started Wednesday afternoon football. By the second week there were 60 kids who wanted to play and so we had to divide into two matches. A couple of girls asked me if they could play sometime too so I was trying to have girls football on Fridays but this has not really worked out. Once girls go home they have all kinds of duties to take care of (unlike the boys) so they can't really come back to school to play.

I have also been helping out with the Chimwemwe Anti-AIDS Club. Right now they are preparing poetry and songs for the upcoming Independence Day celebration. This has thrust me into the role of drama and choir director. They are a great group of kids and we have lots of fun.
There is a special event happening at Chimwemwe next Tuesday in honour of Independence Day. The "Miss Chimwemwe Competition" will feature dancing, modeling (both western and traditional), singing, poetry, and miming. Yes, miming. Every day after school there are kids practicing their dance moves or the proper model strut, usually to blaring western R & B. It is actually quite funny. The practices draw quite a crowd as well - usually kids stand several deep around the windows to try and get a glimpse of the action while the Deputy Headmaster has to fight them off with a stick.

At Aisha School, I could see no evidence of activities of any kind. I think that there might be an anti-AIDS club there too but, since I am only there twice a week, I am liable to miss some things. On Tuesdays now we have Bible club. This is really a combination of a short Bible lesson followed up with a semi-related activity. The first week we played some games ostensibly about "making choices." This past week we drew pictures of the differences between seeking power and wanting to help others. The kids lit up when I pulled out the crayons and told them we were going to draw. So this group is also going very well. And finally, on Thursdays we have Chess club. Chess is a very popular game in Zambia and, since the pieces are easy to come by, it seemed like an easy club to start.

That is the sum of my extracurricular activities - usually 3 or 4 days per week I get to do something outside of class. This is great for me because it gives me a chance to meet the kids and interact with them in a setting outside of classes and I hope that it is great for them as well - giving them an opportunity to participate in a slightly structured activity with their friends.

Zambians Love Respect

"I work hard all day but all I really want is some respect," says the voice from the TV. The "respect" that they are talking about is not the type normally associated with dignity or being appreciated. Rather, it is "Respect," the local beer which is also known more commonly as "chibuku" or "shake-shake."

One of Zambia's most apparent problems is alcohol. Since the compounds are full of young, unemployed men and have no recreational opportunities for them to pursue, they all congregate at the bars, or "tarvens" (a common Zambian misspelling), to drink the days away. By the time I am travelling to work at 8:00, the bars have been open for several hours and there are already many people drunk. By the time I knock off (leave work) at 17:15 this number has only increased. Fairly frequently, especially near the weekend, I see the large chibuku trucks - with tanks full of alcohol for that weekend's consumption - unloading their cargo.

The heavy drinking is also a large contributing factor in election or football inspired rioting. Certainly, this is not a problem in Zambia alone (just think of the Whyte Avenue riots in Edmonton this spring). Anywhere that there are large numbers of young men and the alcohol flows freely it does not take much to spark a problem, especially when they do not have much to lose in the first place.

Many Zambians recognize this as a problem. Some churches, including the BIC church, are strongly anti-alcohol. In the city, however, the problem does not seem to be alcohol consumption, it seems that this is merely a symptom of larger problems. When there is high unemployment and no alternative recreation for youth, they feel that there is nothing to do but go to the bar. Also, many of the bars are owned by influential people, including local politicians, who have little incentive to limit hours, consumption, or provide alternatives to their services. So it seems that alcohol consumption is a problem that will not be going away anytime soon. After all, who doesn't want a little respect?

Muzungu, how are you?

"Muzungu, how are you?" How many times have I heard that question. Every day as I ride my bike to school my presence creates huge excitement among the kids enroute. This is lots of fun, both for me and for them. I almost always respond - sometimes in Nyanja, the local language, which causes extra delight - and it feels nice that my existence is recognized, even if it as a generic white guy. Indeed, on the odd day when there are very few "muzungu, muzungu" calls I feel a little lonely - how come no one saw me today?

There are certain parts of Lusaka where being a white man is not a big deal - for example, Manda Hill or Arcades, the two major "western" shopping centres have the same racial mix as in many urban North American cities. When one ventures off the traditional expat path, however, and enters the compound, the excitement begins.

I am not sure what this excitement can be attributed to. I hardly saw any black people growing up, but did not run out the street yelling and waving when I did. I am told that part of it is competition - if one kid gets a response than the other kids all have to get one as well and, usually, I am more than happy to oblige.

Some areas have a greater muzungu fetish than others. There is one road I call "Muzungu Alley." I often feel like the Pied Piper on that road because I usually end up with several kids following me as I walk or ride along. Some trails that I take everyday are still full of "muzungu, muzungu" calls.

So this "muzungu" phenomenon is something that I have enjoyed so far. Maybe it will become tiring some day, but it hasn't reached that point yet. Since this semi-celebrity status will continue throughout the year, I'm sure, it is probably a good thing that I enjoy it!

On Zambian Television

The Zambian media, and most particularly its television industry, is a peculiar affair. There are two major stations: the publicly owned Zambian National Broadcasting Corporation (ZNBC) and the private MUVI-TV (I have no idea if this acronym stands for anything). For those without access to South African satellite dishes, such as myself and the people of the compounds, these two stations are the sum total of television in Zambia. Yet, Zambians love their TV. Indeed, in all my visits to Zambian households, the TV is rarely off. One of my fellow teachers said to me that every evening after supper he watches TV till he goes to bed.

So what are the entertaining programs that keep the nation so glued to their TV set? Mostly, it is foreign soap operas. ZNBC offers fare from South Africa, Venezuela, and Nigeria. My favourite, well the only program I have watched on a regular basis, is a South African soap full of shady characters, intrigue, and race issues. I am told that a standard evening on MUVI-TV (who asks it’s viewers in all seriousness to “Stay Tunned”), which by an unscientific poll of my students I have concluded is overwhelmingly more popular than ZNBC, includes a South African, Mexican, and two Filipino soaps. Television brings the world to Zambia, one romantic drama after another. Probably this is a good thing. Zambian-made programs are incredibly low-budget, low-quality productions. Zambian TV would be no where without globalization.

The television news has also been an interesting experience. For one, North American media has different standards when it comes to what it is appropriate to display on TV. For example, when a man committed suicide by jumping off the ZNBC transmission tower the whole event was replayed on the evening news, including shots of him jumping off the tower and crumpled on the ground with blood oozing from his head. Or, when the story was about a woman succumbing to injuries sustained from a fire, the accompanying image was of the horribly burnt woman squirming in agony in a hospital bed.

My favourite, however, are the local weather forecasts. First, one should know that the weather each day is pretty much the same as the last. Right now, this can be summed up as hot and sunny with a little wind from the east. This has been the same now for several weeks. The job of a Zambian meteorologist, therefore, is not challenging to begin with. The forecast, however, traditionally reads like this: “The weather in Zambia will be hot to very hot today and sunny across the country.” Or, if one is lucky and gets a temperature forecast: “The temperatures tomorrow will range from 30 degrees to 38 degrees.” In this way, at least, the accuracy most be amazingly high. It is hard to be wrong with an 8 degree spread in a country where the temperature stays within a few degrees for months at a time!

So there you have it. A brief description of an overwhelmingly popular form of media here in Zambia, television. To sum up, I guess one could say that television here draws on programs from all over the world, but delivers them in a uniquely Zambian manner.

Is That a Prairie Province?

One of the strangest surprises I found soon after my arrival was the geographical knowledge of Canada that Zambians have. As a result of a bizarre, and now former, geography curriculum, many people with a high school education were taught the details of North America instead of the geography of Southern Africa. The Canadian Shield, Great Lakes, and Prairie Provinces are remarkably familiar terms to many people. As a result, if I say I am from Alberta (or Manitoba – I tend to go back and forth) they understand in general terms what part of the country I am speaking of.

I know that it is too easy to bring up an example of a stereotypical American, but as a matter of comparison this is unfortunately necessary. I met a middle-aged fellow from Idaho last week who was helping with the plumbing at school. He lived in a town 30 miles from the Canadian border. When I said I was from Alberta this meant nothing to him – I might as well have said I was from Newfoundland. Yet, if I tell a Zambian the same thing, many would quickly remember that Alberta is in Western Canada and is a prairie province.

Fortunately, the quirk which created such knowledge has since been ironed out. Angola and South Africa are now studied instead of Alberta and Saskatchewan. This makes a whole lot more sense then learning the detailed geography of a distant continent. Nonetheless, being told about the intricacies of the Canadian Shield by a Zambian, who has probably never travelled north of Kitwe, in the middle of a hot and dusty Lusakan compound is one of the things that I would have never expected prior to arrival.

Unplanned Suburbs

In a course I took last year on Canadian Social History, I had the opportunity to read a book by Richard Harris on the development of Toronto’s unplanned suburbs in the early part of the twentieth century. The book, aptly titled “Unplanned Suburbs,” told the story of how working class families would build houses in these regions – often because the lack of amenities made the area affordable and because they could build their houses themselves as they could afford to purchase materials. Civic planning as we know it was rare; there were no rigid grid street plans, public parks, or other semblances of mass civic order.

Fast forward now to twenty-first century Lusaka. One of the things that first hit me when strolling or cycling through the compounds that I frequent was that they were basically “unplanned suburbs” on a massive scale. Houses are built as people can afford the bricks to construct them and are, I think, regularly constructed by the owner and their family, the network of streets and paths appears to be a maze to anyone not familiar with their intricacies, and modern amenities are at a premium. Most places seem to have power (which, however, is regularly out), but fetching water is often a chore that involves walking great distances. Indeed, if there were more services, people could not afford them anyway and would have to move on to another compound.

This observation is not to suggest that Zambia is merely one hundred years behind Canada in terms of development, and so will eventually follow a similar course. I cannot imagine these compounds dying like the unplanned suburbs of Toronto did (the introduction of amenities, and the corresponding taxes and fees, along with improved public transportation made the neighbourhoods to expensive for their original inhabitants). It is interesting, however, merely to imagine the similarities between these historical narratives that might otherwise seem remarkably different, and to recognize that in many ways, large sections of the Canadian working class of 80 to 100 years ago, lived in a “third world” state.

Short Cuts

I have been in Lusaka to be able to travel from Point A to Point B in the areas that I frequent with a general sense of where I am going and the route I am supposed to take. Occasionally this involves some guess work because, although some streets have names on the map, there are almost no signs to identify these names in the real world. Indeed, I pride myself that only once in my frequent travels (and this was on my first day) have I had to stop and ask for directions.

Nevertheless, my sense of the land pales in comparison with my colleagues and friends. I have come to learn that the main route is never an acceptable mode of transport to the average Lusakan. There is always a short cut. I have never gone anywhere with a Zambian in the compound without being told that there is a short cut. Not only is there always a short cut, but it seems that one can never take the same short cut twice – this not only helps to identify one’s prowess as a finder of short cuts but also makes it nearly impossible for me to remember the short cut for my own use. In the compounds, a short cut generally consists of constantly weaving back and forth along paths and roads of various sizes, between houses, and across narrow bridges until one suddenly finds oneself at the destination.

I am occasionally suspicious about these short cuts – they always have many intricate steps but sometimes don’t seem to be a whole lot shorter than the main route. Often I think that the purpose of the short cut is for my host to demonstrate their impeccable knowledge of their surroundings. This being said, however, there is tremendous potential for shortcuts when there is no concept of trespassing on another’s property and when roads and paths carve through the compound in every which way. I just hope that some day I will be going somewhere with someone and I can say, “ah, I know a short cut!” and lead a twisting trail through the depths of the compound.

The Mighty Chipolopolo

Chipolopolo. This word, which left me wondering for a day or two exactly how many “po”s and “lo”s it contained, is universally known here in Zambia. It is, after all, the nickname of the national football team and it was my pleasure today to see the Chipolopolo boys take on the Bafana Bafana (South Africa). International football in a country like Zambia is an entirely different cup of tea than the handful of Canadian international matches I have been to. For one, there is no need for riot police in full equipment to patrol the outside of Commonwealth Stadium in Edmonton, or protect the entrances, or defend the pitch. At Lusaka’s Independence Stadium, however, the police presence was very heavy, particularly so because in a recent match the crowd rioted after a loss – which cost Lusaka the right to hold international matches for an extended period of time.

The second difference, was that, unlike those matches in Edmonton, the stadium was packed. Nearly all of the 30,000 spots on the benches were taken. I estimate the crowd at 29,995 black folks and 5 muzungus, of which I happened to be one. This brought much amusement to the spectators around me – especially when they got me make to make the symbol of the PF (Patriotic Front - see my election comments) and when everyone, including me, gave what I believe was the “black power” salute during the national anthem.

Throughout the game the passion was evident. Every slight success by the Chipolopolo boys – getting a shot, running past an opponent, gaining a throw in, was met with rapturous applause. There was one silent moment – when South Africa scored midway through the first half. In one section to my left a brass band played throughout the game and people were dancing in their rows. Yet, try as they might the Chipolopolo boys could not meet their fan’s expectations on this day. A combination of shoddy first half defence and a mediocre midfield in the second half was too lethal to overcome, despite some attempted last minute heroics.

After the game, we visited the national memorial for the national team which was wiped out in 1993 in a plane crash – a team which would have qualified for the World Cup. This disaster is treated as the worse thing that ever happened to this country – which gives an indication of how powerful an image the team is for the country. Hundreds of fans who had minutes before been chanting, yelling, and encouraging their modern Chipolopolo sombrely walked single file past the graves of their beloved heroes. It was strange to see this quiet procession of people who had so recently been embroiled in the emotions of the match.

Month of Interruptions

One of my colleagues at school this week described October as the "Month of Interruptions." Such a description could not be more apt. The month began with several days off for the election, will be followed next week with Teacher's Day, and later in the month more time will be taken off for Independence Day. The problem is not just with the official days off but that students regularly don't show up after these days off either. For example, after having most of Wednesday and all of Thursday, Friday, Monday, and possibly Tuesday off, only about a third of students bothered showing up this Wednesday - I had 11 Grade 8s and 4 Grade 10s. On Friday, the situation was worse as 3 Grade 8s and no Grade 10s bothered to come to class. Students were not the only ones suffering from lax attendance standards. Several teachers did not bother to come to class either. Such a situation is frustrating for someone used to Canadian expectations about attendance but I had better get used to it as we are only one week into the "Month of Interruptions."

Election Aftermath

The election passed relatively smoothly with only a few isolated incidents of violence in the city. The problem is that Lusaka and the urban areas of Copperbelt province to the north of us are strongly against the ruling party. These urban results were released about a day before the other results started trickling in so it seemed like an opposition candidate, Michael Sata would win. Rural regions, however, voted in overwhelming numbers for the incumbent, Levy Mwanawasa. As a result, the expected victory turned into a bitter defeat for PF supporters.

Fortunately, the incidents of rioting were quite isolated and localized. Unfortunately, and unbeknownst to me, one of these isolated pockets lay directly on my route to school. On Monday I was on my way to school when I began noticing that there were big rocks that had been heaved on to the road, evidence of fires from the night before, and a complete lack of minibuses (with which I normally have to fight for space on the road). There were also many people on the road and instead of being their normally friendly selves were quite hostile and did a lot of yelling. By the point that I realized that I probably shouldn’t be there and wanted to get out I was already halfway in and figured that it might be easier to go through then go back. Shortly afterwards a couple people threw rocks at me – one of which struck the bike and the other struck my leg. Fortunately, I was able to get through the crowds and made my way to school only to find that it had been cancelled because of the insecurities. Apparently there had been serious rioting the night before and, judging by the bangs I heard that day while holed out in a fellow teacher’s house, there continued to be some disturbances during the day. Hopefully this will clear up quickly and life will resume to normal.

Some Observations on Teaching

Teaching has been one of my great joys here. I have the opportunity to teach Grade 8 and 10 English and Math on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons in addition to the computer teaching I do on MWF mornings, Tuesday, and Thursday. The Grade 10s are great because there are only 13 of them and so this creates possibilities to do all kinds of more interesting exercises, especially in English. The Grade 8s too are a fairly small class, although, since they don’t ever all show up, I’m not exactly sure how many there are. Probably in the range of 30 or so. Although I have never taught in Canada, my experience during twelve years of grade school allows me has let me realize some of the differences between Zambian and Canadian schools.

1. For one, I am the only one with a text book. This means that every question and idea has to be written out on the board and then the student’s copy them down. For English, this is particularly hard because it makes things like reading a story difficult, or at least slow, because it would have to be read out loud.

2. There is great respect for the teacher. I am always referred to as “Sir” or, if not that, then as Mr. Epp (which often comes out pronounced “Mr. Hap”). I had a couple of discipline problems once when I was supervising another class but have never had any during the first month in my Grade 8 and Grade 10 classes other than a couple of cheating incidents.

3. Pupils feel the need that I should mark everything that they do – even regular practice questions I assign in class. I haven’t quite figured out why this is. This isn’t a problem – it just means that after assigning work I spend the rest of the class going around and marking. This practice certainly helps identify who is having problems with the questions and what I need to go over more.

4. Similar to number two, teachers here are able to get students to do many things for them. If a desk needs to be moved, or if the board needs to be brushed, or the sidewalk needs to be swept the first unlucky student to be seen will be given that responsibility.

That is enough of a list for now. In many ways, kids are kids wherever they are. It is also interesting to see, however, how educational practices differ between our two countries.

Welcome Here

I did not ever think that I would take the plunge and begin a blog but here I am so I guess it has happened. I will try to keep it up-to-date fairly frequently and will attempt to use this space to say things that are hard to convey in e-mail form. Perhaps this will result in longer reflections on particular issues that I run across or perhaps the blog will just devolve into a series of mundane comments on everyday life in Zambia. You will notice the flurry of activity today – I figure I should have at least something on this thing and I have the morning off so am taking advantage of that opportunity. Anyways, enjoy!

Trip to Victoria Falls

Probably the most frequent touristy question I received, both before leaving for Zambia and now that I am here, is when I would see Victoria Falls. I can answer now that I have indeed seen this awe-inspiring site.

It is now near the end of dry season so there was not a whole lot of water in the falls - and the water that was there was on the Zimbabwean side so could only be seen from a distance. This, however, afforded us the opportunity of climbing across the rocks that will, in a couple of months, be under water. It was very neat to walk across much of the face of the falls - there are some very impressive rock formations formed as the water drives into rocks with tremendous force and the cliffs are staggeringly tall. This is truly one of the seven natural wonders of the world!

The rest of the day was spent taking in the Livingstone Museum, exploring the sites of downtown Livingstone, and then meeting up with the Choma Secondary School sports teams whom had given us the ride to Livingstone from Choma. All in all, a great day and a great chance to see Zambia's most famous attraction.

We rode back in the back of a lorry - a common method of transporting large numbers of people. I'm not sure how many of us there were because there were a few sports teams, accompanying teachers, and us hangers on. We certainly filled the space though - benches were placed in the middle and then some kids sat precariously on the edges. I was thankful to be sitting at the front on the "teacher's bench" which at least had a solid wall behind us.