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.