The last two weeks I’ve gotten to participate in one of the highlight projects of my stint in Africa.
One Sight is a philanthropy that travels throughout the globe, providing free optometric eye care to those who need it but may be unable to afford it or access it. Working with partner organizations in their host country, they run the entire process – from the Snellen Chart (remember elementary school eye charts? ), autorefraction for accurate prescriptions , full optometric exams (cataracts, glaucoma, pterygium, diabetic retinopathy,etc) and at the end, glasses at the closest possible prescriptions. And even if you don’t need glasses: sunglasses! The sunglasses were a big deal, by the way. Kids were coming back through three or four times, complaining about how their glasses didn’t work and they needed extra sunglasses. They got stickers instead…oh well.
The process for a patient is a whirlwind. For those who had never had an eye exam before – which was the majority of the people who came – it was the equivalent of an alien abduction. Have you ever had your eyes dilated? It sucks on a normal day. Imagine being led to a room with thirty other people, listening to a stranger speak a language you don’t understand, right before they start dousing your eyes with burning medicine. Not a lot of surprise when I heard the rumor about the strange white folk coming to blind people in the villages. Oddly enough it took a few days to figure out that the person explaining the temporary effects of dilation might want to do it in Zulu.
You could say my main job was making the experience as comfortable as possible for the gogos. Most of the two weeks, I was working with the doctors doing the eye exams, as a translator. According to the optometrists, the pathology was interesting…different than what they had expected. Most likely they were referring to the man with the mole – complete with hair – growing out of his eye.
Over the course of two weeks, 6000 people passed through. Taking into account the weather (bad) and the site locations (quite rural) that’s an impressive number. The One Sight crew and the Mpilonhle NGO were awesome people. Working with South African physicians and optometrists on site to schedule follow up care for those who required it was possibly the most important part of the whole process, in a manner of speaking. In the face of the HIV epidemic, routine optometric care is a luxury at best – and, at least in my health district (serving upwards of 100000) completely absent. I met with people I know from my village there; people who had traveled nearly three hours to another village for treatment. Bringing to light the resources already available in South Africa, among people who may have previously just resolved to live with a worsening health condition, might improve the quality of life of many for years to come.
Best thing from the two weeks: an older man who had worked for several years in Joburg had a flawed cataract surgery, rendering him essentially blind. After putting on his glasses with an insane prescription, he started jumping for joy and calling out (in Zulu) all of the random objects outside he could see. The display drew some attention, and out of nowhere he was surrounded by about forty digital cameras snapping photos. After basking in his fame for about 30 minutes, he leans over and starts complaining about how we were wasting his time. I asked why, said that I didn’t understand. His response: “Cama manje! Cama manje!” Translates as: “Pee now! Pee now!” The man was, literally, going to piss himself if he was not released. Made my day.
Friday, November 4, 2011
Saturday, October 8, 2011
10-09-2011
I observed Yom Kippur yesterday. Sort of.
Yom Kippur is Hebrew for Day of Atonement, or Repentance. Coming only ten days after the new year (Rosh Hashanah) it allows for a space of time to reflect on your transgressions over the past year, and consider the year ahead. Yom Kippur became somewhat important for me because it also coincides almost perfectly with the half-way point of Peace Corps service. And since I just returned from Mid-Service Conference (or mid-service training, MST) in Pretoria on Friday afternoon – which was a lot of reflection, intentional and unintentional, by the PCVs on what the hell exactly are we doing in South Africa – it sort of continued the sentiment. In a good way.
Both MST and Yom Kippur – for me personally – had a lot in common. First off, my connection to Judaism is feeble, through relation and name only. And lately, I’ve been feeling the same way about Peace Corps, that I’m part of Peace Corps by name only and really, I’m just a teacher in the school and that white guy in the village.
Both started out as a reflection of a lot of failure and loss. The first year as a Peace Corps volunteer was tough; I showed up with what I wanted to accomplish, only to have a lot of it thrown back in my face. Or worse, ignored completely. I thought about each project I knew was just so perfect, so important and so gratifying that I had to dive right in, all else be damned. I had wasted a lot of time looking at people as victims in need of rescuing, as one of the people at MST put it. In addition, two of my closest friends in the Peace Corps both ET’d during MST; I had time to reflect on how much I’ve relied on both of them at times to steady myself here and how much they will be missed here for what time is left.
Both allowed me to see that reflection of loss and failure for what it was. Thinking about Peace Corps service, all that mattered was me. I didn’t spend time thinking about what the people needed, but what I needed to do – whether to prove to myself or justify myself or whatever, the key thing was always “what have I done” and “what have I accomplished”. Failing to do so was just that…failing. It implied that a better volunteer would have done even more, that the community might be disappointed in what I had given.
Don’t get me wrong, I have seen a lot of success in my work as well, both in and out of the classroom. But I was left, overall, feeling unfulfilled.
In the end, both ended up being about reflection on the next year – and a reevaluation. Peace Corps isn’t really about projects; or rather, the projects you take on shouldn’t be what is keeping you here. It’s about relationships, connecting with others and sharing experiences. The projects just become a little more incidental, sort of a bonus to what’s really going on. And I think I kind of like that.
Just some of the things a 25 hour fast will get you thinking about. L’shanah tovah, here’s to one more year in Africa.
:- )
-Ryan
Yom Kippur is Hebrew for Day of Atonement, or Repentance. Coming only ten days after the new year (Rosh Hashanah) it allows for a space of time to reflect on your transgressions over the past year, and consider the year ahead. Yom Kippur became somewhat important for me because it also coincides almost perfectly with the half-way point of Peace Corps service. And since I just returned from Mid-Service Conference (or mid-service training, MST) in Pretoria on Friday afternoon – which was a lot of reflection, intentional and unintentional, by the PCVs on what the hell exactly are we doing in South Africa – it sort of continued the sentiment. In a good way.
Both MST and Yom Kippur – for me personally – had a lot in common. First off, my connection to Judaism is feeble, through relation and name only. And lately, I’ve been feeling the same way about Peace Corps, that I’m part of Peace Corps by name only and really, I’m just a teacher in the school and that white guy in the village.
Both started out as a reflection of a lot of failure and loss. The first year as a Peace Corps volunteer was tough; I showed up with what I wanted to accomplish, only to have a lot of it thrown back in my face. Or worse, ignored completely. I thought about each project I knew was just so perfect, so important and so gratifying that I had to dive right in, all else be damned. I had wasted a lot of time looking at people as victims in need of rescuing, as one of the people at MST put it. In addition, two of my closest friends in the Peace Corps both ET’d during MST; I had time to reflect on how much I’ve relied on both of them at times to steady myself here and how much they will be missed here for what time is left.
Both allowed me to see that reflection of loss and failure for what it was. Thinking about Peace Corps service, all that mattered was me. I didn’t spend time thinking about what the people needed, but what I needed to do – whether to prove to myself or justify myself or whatever, the key thing was always “what have I done” and “what have I accomplished”. Failing to do so was just that…failing. It implied that a better volunteer would have done even more, that the community might be disappointed in what I had given.
Don’t get me wrong, I have seen a lot of success in my work as well, both in and out of the classroom. But I was left, overall, feeling unfulfilled.
In the end, both ended up being about reflection on the next year – and a reevaluation. Peace Corps isn’t really about projects; or rather, the projects you take on shouldn’t be what is keeping you here. It’s about relationships, connecting with others and sharing experiences. The projects just become a little more incidental, sort of a bonus to what’s really going on. And I think I kind of like that.
Just some of the things a 25 hour fast will get you thinking about. L’shanah tovah, here’s to one more year in Africa.
:- )
-Ryan
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
07-13-2011
Today at the clinic, a child that decided to display his English vernacular decided to inform me that I have a big head.
As in:
“Umlungu, Your head is big!”
While the obvious response was that it’s full of brains, I was concerned that the word “brain” might not be one he has learned yet. So instead, I decided to use the Zulu equivalent...only to realize that the Zulu version of the word “brain” was one that I had not learned yet, so best to use the next closest thing:
“Mnumzane, ikhanda lami ligcwala ngamasimba!”
Which translates, roughly, to: Sir, my head is full of poop. (The poop is the ‘ama simba’ part. Ama pluralizes it, so the sentence could also translate as: Sir, my head is full of many poops.)
I think this is a good place to mention that, in South Africa, a popular variety of chips is called Simba Chips. They have standard flavors, and then a more South African flair (personally, I think the spare rib flavor is phenomenal).
Walking home this evening, I started to wonder why in the world a company – in South Africa – would market a product called Simba Chips when it translates, in one of the most widespread languages in the country, into Feces Chips?
Doing some research…in Swahili, the word Simba means ‘lion’ (ring any bells?), which might explain why there is a lion on the cover of the chips bag. Still though, if the word poop meant something incredible or fantastic in another language, I do not think I could be convinced to buy a bag of Poop Chips.
And according to my online Zulu dictionary, the Zulu word for brain is, in fact, brain.
As in:
“Umlungu, Your head is big!”
While the obvious response was that it’s full of brains, I was concerned that the word “brain” might not be one he has learned yet. So instead, I decided to use the Zulu equivalent...only to realize that the Zulu version of the word “brain” was one that I had not learned yet, so best to use the next closest thing:
“Mnumzane, ikhanda lami ligcwala ngamasimba!”
Which translates, roughly, to: Sir, my head is full of poop. (The poop is the ‘ama simba’ part. Ama pluralizes it, so the sentence could also translate as: Sir, my head is full of many poops.)
I think this is a good place to mention that, in South Africa, a popular variety of chips is called Simba Chips. They have standard flavors, and then a more South African flair (personally, I think the spare rib flavor is phenomenal).
Walking home this evening, I started to wonder why in the world a company – in South Africa – would market a product called Simba Chips when it translates, in one of the most widespread languages in the country, into Feces Chips?
Doing some research…in Swahili, the word Simba means ‘lion’ (ring any bells?), which might explain why there is a lion on the cover of the chips bag. Still though, if the word poop meant something incredible or fantastic in another language, I do not think I could be convinced to buy a bag of Poop Chips.
And according to my online Zulu dictionary, the Zulu word for brain is, in fact, brain.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
05-07-2011
This one may feel a little like a tourist brochure. It definitely did when I wrote it.
Time Magazine, a few weeks back, had an article in its culture section about the film industry in South Africa – and how Hollywood is starting to take full of advantage of everything it offers. South Africa is jaw-droppingly beautiful, and has every type of scenery imaginable. I wasn’t surprised to read that. What did seem pretty cool, though, was this little bit of information: the South African film industry is already a billion dollar (dollar, not rand) industry employing over 25 000 South Africans. And growing. For a country with a government that, in the State of the Nation address earlier this year, announced that job creation was its number ONE priority, it seems like one industry is really pushing for that.
And where is this based out of, you ask? Not Jo’burg, the biggest and busiest city in the country. Not Pretoria, the capital steeped in heritage and history. And certainly not Manguzi.
Nope, this is the Mother City herself, the glistening tip of South Africa’s Coast. That’s right: Cape Town.
Being in Africa for almost a year now, I’ve gotten to travel a bit around the country. I’ve been to five out of nine provinces, and have seen pretty much every major city, some more than others. And I must say, from at least an attraction standpoint, Cape Town takes the cake.
To the curious traveler, I’ve got to warn you. Cape Town doesn’t always feel very… African. The buildings look a lot like lower Manhattan, although everyone seems to have a more laid back feeling. And not to sound bad, but most of the people don’t really look all that…well, African. It has a lot to do with the rich and often turbulent history of Southern Africa, especially in the days when it was passed back and forth between the British and Dutch. Slaves and indentured workers from Malaysia and the South Pacific were brought into Cape Town (back when it was still the Cape Colony) to work for the colonials. Over the generations, mixing between the native San, and the white and Asian people led to an entirely new and uniquely South African population of Cape Town ‘Coloreds’. And with them came the birth of the Afrikaans language – a mix of Dutch, Malay, Arabic and native African tongues (one thing I learned in Cape Town: the very first written Afrikaans was written with Arabic lettering, to use by the Muslim population). It’s interesting, given the sentiment tied into Afrikaans now as a language exclusively white South African, that it was never really a ‘pure European’ language at all.
And that’s why I like Cape Town – if South Africa is supposed to be the Rainbow Nation, then Cape Town is the city to see it. I love the village, but it is great to see the face South Africa tries to paint to the rest of the world.
And Cape Town’s heritage is famous and infamous. Right in the bay, visible from the hills above the city, lies Robben Island. Robben Island is famous the world over as the prison of former president Nelson Mandela. It had been used as a political prison for decades, acting almost as a training ground for the elites of modern South Africa. And what I loved most about this tour was that the tour guides we had were all former prisoners themselves, at one time or another. Many had met the great revolutionaries that have changed the country completely in the last twenty years. Everyone in the group could feel the connection to South Africa’s past making it one of the most unique tours I have ever been on. After all, it’s not many places where the guide points to a prison cell and says “and this bunk? This bunk was mine.”
The views off of both Table Mountain and the Cape Point were breathtaking. From Table Mountain, you can see the entire city stretch like a blanket beneath you, and the bay curve around the lonely Robben Island sitting directly offshore. And Cape Point, which a large sign proclaimed as the ‘Southwesternmost point of Africa’ (potentially the worst slogan I’ve ever heard…next to the can of Baked Beans that says “It’s the best you can do.”) offered even more amazing views of the entire cape terrain including Hout Bay and Kemp’s Bay.
And the beaches? Well, to be truly honest, I didn’t really care about seeing the Cape Town beaches before I left my village. I have access to the most beautiful and temperate private beach I’ve seen in my life. The Durban beaches were way too crowded for me, and the beaches in the Cape were about the same – although the water coming off the southern tip was MUCH colder. We stopped at a beach for about ten minutes; long enough for me to put my foot in the other side of the Atlantic just to say I had. For anyone who doesn’t live in northern KZN / does not have a perfect private beach of their own, the experience is probably a lot better – go for it. Just don’t stay in the water too long, amanzi ayabandayo.
There’s one thing I did not expect about Cape Town, although I guess I should have: Cape Town is expensive. At least, by South African standards. In Durban, I could get by on about a hundred rand a day, which was definitely not true for Cape Town. It’s more tourist friendly and caters to plenty of international clientele with money to spend. I’ve got no problem with this; tourism brings in revenue to support the growing infrastructure for the impoverished, and tourism is a leading sector in employment in the country. For me, though, spending what money I’ve got – remember, Peace Corps wants you to live in the village at the village standard – can be tough when it runs low. I usually feel like I get paid plenty of money to get by very comfortably in the village, but pretending to be an American tourist again becomes a bit tougher. If you plan on coming to Cape Town, and you want the full experience, be ready to spend some cash.
So overall, what are my feelings on Cape Town? Well, let me put it this way. I spent about a week in Durban over the Christmas break. When the last day came, I was pretty much ready to get back to the village. I felt like I had gotten enough of Durban for at least a few months, and was ready to get back home. But when the last day came in Cape Town, I wasn’t quite ready to leave. I felt like there was still too much to do and possibly never enough time to do it all. If I can go back before I end my service, I definitely will. And if not, when I get around to getting back to ZA, I’ll be sure to make a stop in Cape Town. Even if for nothing more than jazz and yoga again.
I’d recommend this place to anyone who comes out to visit South Africa, although be prepared – Cape Town is distinctively South African while at the same time not South African in the slightest. If you go, mention my blog. Maybe they’ll give me a discount next time I pass through.
Since I’m talking about vacations, I’ve attached a youtube link for a trip with some other volunteers a few months back. We walked from one of the beaches near Manguzi about sixty km south, to a place called Sodwana Bay. It was right at the end of the sea turtle season – we passed about two dozen nests along the way. The beaches were also completely unpopulated; these are the private beaches mentioned earlier.
Anyways, enjoy
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qTyddWMc1a0
Ryan
Time Magazine, a few weeks back, had an article in its culture section about the film industry in South Africa – and how Hollywood is starting to take full of advantage of everything it offers. South Africa is jaw-droppingly beautiful, and has every type of scenery imaginable. I wasn’t surprised to read that. What did seem pretty cool, though, was this little bit of information: the South African film industry is already a billion dollar (dollar, not rand) industry employing over 25 000 South Africans. And growing. For a country with a government that, in the State of the Nation address earlier this year, announced that job creation was its number ONE priority, it seems like one industry is really pushing for that.
And where is this based out of, you ask? Not Jo’burg, the biggest and busiest city in the country. Not Pretoria, the capital steeped in heritage and history. And certainly not Manguzi.
Nope, this is the Mother City herself, the glistening tip of South Africa’s Coast. That’s right: Cape Town.
Being in Africa for almost a year now, I’ve gotten to travel a bit around the country. I’ve been to five out of nine provinces, and have seen pretty much every major city, some more than others. And I must say, from at least an attraction standpoint, Cape Town takes the cake.
To the curious traveler, I’ve got to warn you. Cape Town doesn’t always feel very… African. The buildings look a lot like lower Manhattan, although everyone seems to have a more laid back feeling. And not to sound bad, but most of the people don’t really look all that…well, African. It has a lot to do with the rich and often turbulent history of Southern Africa, especially in the days when it was passed back and forth between the British and Dutch. Slaves and indentured workers from Malaysia and the South Pacific were brought into Cape Town (back when it was still the Cape Colony) to work for the colonials. Over the generations, mixing between the native San, and the white and Asian people led to an entirely new and uniquely South African population of Cape Town ‘Coloreds’. And with them came the birth of the Afrikaans language – a mix of Dutch, Malay, Arabic and native African tongues (one thing I learned in Cape Town: the very first written Afrikaans was written with Arabic lettering, to use by the Muslim population). It’s interesting, given the sentiment tied into Afrikaans now as a language exclusively white South African, that it was never really a ‘pure European’ language at all.
And that’s why I like Cape Town – if South Africa is supposed to be the Rainbow Nation, then Cape Town is the city to see it. I love the village, but it is great to see the face South Africa tries to paint to the rest of the world.
And Cape Town’s heritage is famous and infamous. Right in the bay, visible from the hills above the city, lies Robben Island. Robben Island is famous the world over as the prison of former president Nelson Mandela. It had been used as a political prison for decades, acting almost as a training ground for the elites of modern South Africa. And what I loved most about this tour was that the tour guides we had were all former prisoners themselves, at one time or another. Many had met the great revolutionaries that have changed the country completely in the last twenty years. Everyone in the group could feel the connection to South Africa’s past making it one of the most unique tours I have ever been on. After all, it’s not many places where the guide points to a prison cell and says “and this bunk? This bunk was mine.”
The views off of both Table Mountain and the Cape Point were breathtaking. From Table Mountain, you can see the entire city stretch like a blanket beneath you, and the bay curve around the lonely Robben Island sitting directly offshore. And Cape Point, which a large sign proclaimed as the ‘Southwesternmost point of Africa’ (potentially the worst slogan I’ve ever heard…next to the can of Baked Beans that says “It’s the best you can do.”) offered even more amazing views of the entire cape terrain including Hout Bay and Kemp’s Bay.
And the beaches? Well, to be truly honest, I didn’t really care about seeing the Cape Town beaches before I left my village. I have access to the most beautiful and temperate private beach I’ve seen in my life. The Durban beaches were way too crowded for me, and the beaches in the Cape were about the same – although the water coming off the southern tip was MUCH colder. We stopped at a beach for about ten minutes; long enough for me to put my foot in the other side of the Atlantic just to say I had. For anyone who doesn’t live in northern KZN / does not have a perfect private beach of their own, the experience is probably a lot better – go for it. Just don’t stay in the water too long, amanzi ayabandayo.
There’s one thing I did not expect about Cape Town, although I guess I should have: Cape Town is expensive. At least, by South African standards. In Durban, I could get by on about a hundred rand a day, which was definitely not true for Cape Town. It’s more tourist friendly and caters to plenty of international clientele with money to spend. I’ve got no problem with this; tourism brings in revenue to support the growing infrastructure for the impoverished, and tourism is a leading sector in employment in the country. For me, though, spending what money I’ve got – remember, Peace Corps wants you to live in the village at the village standard – can be tough when it runs low. I usually feel like I get paid plenty of money to get by very comfortably in the village, but pretending to be an American tourist again becomes a bit tougher. If you plan on coming to Cape Town, and you want the full experience, be ready to spend some cash.
So overall, what are my feelings on Cape Town? Well, let me put it this way. I spent about a week in Durban over the Christmas break. When the last day came, I was pretty much ready to get back to the village. I felt like I had gotten enough of Durban for at least a few months, and was ready to get back home. But when the last day came in Cape Town, I wasn’t quite ready to leave. I felt like there was still too much to do and possibly never enough time to do it all. If I can go back before I end my service, I definitely will. And if not, when I get around to getting back to ZA, I’ll be sure to make a stop in Cape Town. Even if for nothing more than jazz and yoga again.
I’d recommend this place to anyone who comes out to visit South Africa, although be prepared – Cape Town is distinctively South African while at the same time not South African in the slightest. If you go, mention my blog. Maybe they’ll give me a discount next time I pass through.
Since I’m talking about vacations, I’ve attached a youtube link for a trip with some other volunteers a few months back. We walked from one of the beaches near Manguzi about sixty km south, to a place called Sodwana Bay. It was right at the end of the sea turtle season – we passed about two dozen nests along the way. The beaches were also completely unpopulated; these are the private beaches mentioned earlier.
Anyways, enjoy
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qTyddWMc1a0
Ryan
Friday, April 29, 2011
04-29-2011
About two weeks back, we hit Doppler Effect in Physics. I like the Doppler Effect, especially for my class of 23 rural South African 18-20 year olds. It’s a simple topic, basically one equation with really only two situations the learners have to know. Even more, it’s intuitive – from years of tutoring and classes, I’ve never met someone who doesn’t just get the Doppler Effect. Don’t believe me? Follow my instructions:
1)Stand on side of road. Not TOO close.
2)Wait for car to come.
3)Listen to how the sound the car makes seems to get higher as it gets close to you.
4)Listen to how it drops right back down as it drives away from you.
5)Pat yourself on the back. You are now a Physicist.
So, yeah. As expected, the learners caught the gist of it pretty quickly – like math or music or love, perhaps the Doppler Effect is really just the universal language. And seeing as how it’s good to connect these scientific ideas with applications, I explained that the Doppler Effect is more useful than just watching Mr.Ryan pretend to be a car in front of the room. Wanting to take the lesson a step further, I brought up cosmology. I talked about Edwin Hubble (that guy from the satellite), and galactic redshift – in a nutshell, walking them through how the Doppler Effect explains how the Universe seems to be expanding and offers scientific credence to the Big Bang, something they had never heard of until then. I wanted to get the kids – excuse me, young adults much like myself – talking a bit about the idea of how a scientific theory can have controversial social implications, and when suddenly people started warming up to a discussion…the bell rang. My hour was up, and the next teacher was standing at the door, waiting.
This is a pretty typical (part of a) day in South Africa.
With this post and about five months – crazy that it’s already basically May, by the way – into the school year, I figure I’ll let everyone in on what I’ve been getting up to here. The main focus of my assignment is school development, a vague enough term that essentially allows the volunteer to, within reason, operate as how they and the school see fit. Most volunteers teach, primarily, either with another teacher or on their own in more unfortunate cases. Right now, I’m teaching grade 8 English, and grades 11 and 12 Physical Science. All of these classes are occasionally wonderful – although the grade 8 class has 86 learners. Imagine 86 eighth graders, in a hot African classroom, listening to someone speak in a language they don’t really understand. Pretty scary visual, I bet. The grade 11 and 12 classes are more fun, with only 19 and 23 learners respectively I’ve gotten the chance to get to know most of them by name. Since it’s a subject I feel a little more comfortable teaching than English – I’ve often had to explain to my counterpart English teacher after class that “I don’t know why that sentence is wrong, I just know that it’s wrong” and that “English is really a horrible language to begin with” – the learners and I tend to get a good vibe going in the class. Especially in Grade 11, since Grade 12 is under a lot of pressure to simply cram as much information in as possible before the daunting exams, we can have a lot more fun. Also, we can blow more things up (Zinc + Hydrochloric Acid, anyone?).
With all the stuff that comes with teaching – between grading and lesson planning and evening/Saturday/holiday classes and so on – it gets fairly time consuming, but pretty much all volunteers try to tack on other efforts, known as Secondary Projects, as well. This term, the school garden which another teacher and myself started planning last December, is finally underway. With the help of the Department of Agriculture, nearby villagers and, of course, the learners, we’ve plowed out a sizeable plot to beginning planting some good winter crops. Hopefully, this will help supplement the food scheme for the lunches at school and, if possible, will expand to be fully managed and operated by the students themselves. Still a long term goal though. But everyone, including Mr.Ryan, seems to enjoy plowing barefoot into the weeds (when it’s not hot).
Another project that’s being supported by a local NGO is a Kid’s Club for a small group of OVC qualifying learners. The term OVC stands for Orphans and Vulnerable Children, and these learners are among the neediest of needy. As the social worker at the NGO had once put it, there is even a hierarchy in survival itself. So each week on Monday (only once so far this term, due to holidays), I meet up with about twenty little kids from 6 to 14 years old. After some organizational hurdles, the first meeting we had was terrifying – especially for me. I’m not a social worker, and something about very little kids is just…off putting. Possibly repressed memories of Children of the Corn surfacing. But it went amazingly well – bonding through games and activities, the learners are provided a safe environment after school to do homework and talk with other kids, two grade 12 learners, and myself about any problems they may be facing at school or home. It’s been a great way for me to connect more with the learners in the Primary School, because I feel like I’ve been somewhat absent from there.
The latest project – that has been slower in coming than I thought – has been cleaning and remodeling the school library. The original ‘storage room’ was a nightmare. Piles of books and spilt paint cans three feet high, with rumors of rats (also snakes to eat the rats) living in it like a trash pile out of the Dark Crystal. Over two consecutive Saturdays, the building was not only completely cleaned but repainted as well (some pictures are up on Facebook). It was a great project because it gave an opportunity for the learners that came to help the chance to truly own their school. It was nice because, frankly, I had pretty much nothing to do with it besides some initial pushing – the guys that came out were excited and hardworking. It would not have been done nearly so fast without everyone’s help. Once done, I’ve been working on getting the books back in and (hopefully) getting a carpentry-training NGO I’ve been working with to donate some shelves the trainees have made for practical exercises.
^With this last project in mind, I know I’ve had some people ask if there’s anything I’d like to have sent me from the States. At first, I gave some joke answers – and did, surprisingly, receive quite a bit of Peanut Butter, thanks everyone :-) – but I’ve started to realize that this may be a blessing in disguise. Sending packages doesn’t have to be about me, but offers you the chance to help out the projects directly. I’m not asking for donations, but if people are still thinking about sending boxes or packages, toss some children’s books in there instead. What I’ve seen, especially with the Kid’s Club, is that the books we read as kids – Dr.Seuss, Roald Dahl, etc. – are the same books these kids love to have read to them! Most of them, especially the ones living in the depths of the village and without literate family member, have no access to this. And to live in an environment where books are so rare as to be unknown is heartbreaking. Just a thought.
Well, I hope this gave you a brief overview of what’s been happening. There are a few other projects I’m hoping to get underway, some big and some smaller. For now though, one step at a time.
In one of these posts, I’ll fill in a bit more about travels around South Africa, multiday beach hikes, and croquet with Afrikaner children. Take care until then.
-Ryan
1)Stand on side of road. Not TOO close.
2)Wait for car to come.
3)Listen to how the sound the car makes seems to get higher as it gets close to you.
4)Listen to how it drops right back down as it drives away from you.
5)Pat yourself on the back. You are now a Physicist.
So, yeah. As expected, the learners caught the gist of it pretty quickly – like math or music or love, perhaps the Doppler Effect is really just the universal language. And seeing as how it’s good to connect these scientific ideas with applications, I explained that the Doppler Effect is more useful than just watching Mr.Ryan pretend to be a car in front of the room. Wanting to take the lesson a step further, I brought up cosmology. I talked about Edwin Hubble (that guy from the satellite), and galactic redshift – in a nutshell, walking them through how the Doppler Effect explains how the Universe seems to be expanding and offers scientific credence to the Big Bang, something they had never heard of until then. I wanted to get the kids – excuse me, young adults much like myself – talking a bit about the idea of how a scientific theory can have controversial social implications, and when suddenly people started warming up to a discussion…the bell rang. My hour was up, and the next teacher was standing at the door, waiting.
This is a pretty typical (part of a) day in South Africa.
With this post and about five months – crazy that it’s already basically May, by the way – into the school year, I figure I’ll let everyone in on what I’ve been getting up to here. The main focus of my assignment is school development, a vague enough term that essentially allows the volunteer to, within reason, operate as how they and the school see fit. Most volunteers teach, primarily, either with another teacher or on their own in more unfortunate cases. Right now, I’m teaching grade 8 English, and grades 11 and 12 Physical Science. All of these classes are occasionally wonderful – although the grade 8 class has 86 learners. Imagine 86 eighth graders, in a hot African classroom, listening to someone speak in a language they don’t really understand. Pretty scary visual, I bet. The grade 11 and 12 classes are more fun, with only 19 and 23 learners respectively I’ve gotten the chance to get to know most of them by name. Since it’s a subject I feel a little more comfortable teaching than English – I’ve often had to explain to my counterpart English teacher after class that “I don’t know why that sentence is wrong, I just know that it’s wrong” and that “English is really a horrible language to begin with” – the learners and I tend to get a good vibe going in the class. Especially in Grade 11, since Grade 12 is under a lot of pressure to simply cram as much information in as possible before the daunting exams, we can have a lot more fun. Also, we can blow more things up (Zinc + Hydrochloric Acid, anyone?).
With all the stuff that comes with teaching – between grading and lesson planning and evening/Saturday/holiday classes and so on – it gets fairly time consuming, but pretty much all volunteers try to tack on other efforts, known as Secondary Projects, as well. This term, the school garden which another teacher and myself started planning last December, is finally underway. With the help of the Department of Agriculture, nearby villagers and, of course, the learners, we’ve plowed out a sizeable plot to beginning planting some good winter crops. Hopefully, this will help supplement the food scheme for the lunches at school and, if possible, will expand to be fully managed and operated by the students themselves. Still a long term goal though. But everyone, including Mr.Ryan, seems to enjoy plowing barefoot into the weeds (when it’s not hot).
Another project that’s being supported by a local NGO is a Kid’s Club for a small group of OVC qualifying learners. The term OVC stands for Orphans and Vulnerable Children, and these learners are among the neediest of needy. As the social worker at the NGO had once put it, there is even a hierarchy in survival itself. So each week on Monday (only once so far this term, due to holidays), I meet up with about twenty little kids from 6 to 14 years old. After some organizational hurdles, the first meeting we had was terrifying – especially for me. I’m not a social worker, and something about very little kids is just…off putting. Possibly repressed memories of Children of the Corn surfacing. But it went amazingly well – bonding through games and activities, the learners are provided a safe environment after school to do homework and talk with other kids, two grade 12 learners, and myself about any problems they may be facing at school or home. It’s been a great way for me to connect more with the learners in the Primary School, because I feel like I’ve been somewhat absent from there.
The latest project – that has been slower in coming than I thought – has been cleaning and remodeling the school library. The original ‘storage room’ was a nightmare. Piles of books and spilt paint cans three feet high, with rumors of rats (also snakes to eat the rats) living in it like a trash pile out of the Dark Crystal. Over two consecutive Saturdays, the building was not only completely cleaned but repainted as well (some pictures are up on Facebook). It was a great project because it gave an opportunity for the learners that came to help the chance to truly own their school. It was nice because, frankly, I had pretty much nothing to do with it besides some initial pushing – the guys that came out were excited and hardworking. It would not have been done nearly so fast without everyone’s help. Once done, I’ve been working on getting the books back in and (hopefully) getting a carpentry-training NGO I’ve been working with to donate some shelves the trainees have made for practical exercises.
^With this last project in mind, I know I’ve had some people ask if there’s anything I’d like to have sent me from the States. At first, I gave some joke answers – and did, surprisingly, receive quite a bit of Peanut Butter, thanks everyone :-) – but I’ve started to realize that this may be a blessing in disguise. Sending packages doesn’t have to be about me, but offers you the chance to help out the projects directly. I’m not asking for donations, but if people are still thinking about sending boxes or packages, toss some children’s books in there instead. What I’ve seen, especially with the Kid’s Club, is that the books we read as kids – Dr.Seuss, Roald Dahl, etc. – are the same books these kids love to have read to them! Most of them, especially the ones living in the depths of the village and without literate family member, have no access to this. And to live in an environment where books are so rare as to be unknown is heartbreaking. Just a thought.
Well, I hope this gave you a brief overview of what’s been happening. There are a few other projects I’m hoping to get underway, some big and some smaller. For now though, one step at a time.
In one of these posts, I’ll fill in a bit more about travels around South Africa, multiday beach hikes, and croquet with Afrikaner children. Take care until then.
-Ryan
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
02-09-2011
Warning: This one's a long one.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I’d like to take this opportunity to share my longwinded thoughts on something near and dear to my heart – Science Education, or oftentimes, the lack thereof.
Science and Mathematics are two subjects that South Africa and the United States seem to hit about the same intensity – and they both seem to do it wrong. Test scores and general student interest in the subjects, in both nations, are generally low. Interestingly enough, this is true across all racial divides; across socioeconomic levels in both the United States and the even more racially divided South Africa. Every politician, at all levels, in endless speeches and a Ferris wheel of phrasing, has acknowledged that this fundamental problem will reverberate in the next generation’s approach to global issues and challenges – challenges that will require skill and understanding based firmly in the basics of the sciences and mathematics taught to children.
Interestingly enough, both the United States and South Africa have a history of scientific achievement. I’m pretty sure everybody who reads my blog could name by heart at least one scientist from America whose work affect their lives. And in South Africa, you had Dr. Christiaan Barnard, a surgeon who performed the world's first successful heart transplant.
So with all the glory of the sciences blared from every ivory tower…why are learners failing to grasp?
The Physical Science curriculum in South Africa is a horrendous mishmash of various scientific topics, often unrelated and presented in an ambiguous, convoluted or clearly incorrect manner. It is disastrously incoherent – jumping from Newton’s Laws to naming organic molecules, to the Doppler Effect to the diffraction of light to the equilibrium rates of reactions, to electrostatics to AC generators and finally a history of the South African coal and mining industry.
Looking at the work schedule for the year, I felt like the curriculum designer sat at a table, swallowed as many outdated college textbooks as possible, and vomited all over a pile of newspaper; whatever came out and was still partially legible – including the wet newspaper – made its way onto the national syllabus in the order it was found. The National curriculum takes too many concepts without clarity or connection, shoves them down the students’ throats and expects the students to successfully regurgitate them onto the single examination at the end of Grade 12. This is an inane and thorny task at even the best schools with the largest amount of resources in the Nation; try doing it in the rural outposts, where students do not even speak the language the test will be offered in. Is it succeeding? I will say that they are being forced to solve problems in fairly abstract scientific areas, but without knowledge or background of what those numbers they can so easily plug into, or read off of the calculator actually mean.
The class is difficult for difficulty’s sake, not for the sake of the science being taught.
First and foremost, students who come into a classroom need to understand what science is. Science is the study of Nature; it is the study of all we see around us. Science is not Nature itself; it is a process we use to understand Nature. It is not enough to know what Nature is, but how it is: this is the process of Science. It is asking a single question on a phenomena, making a guess to what an answer should be and why it should be, then answering that question with an objective experiment. If your answer was wrong, figure out why it’s wrong. Adjust your thinking, and learn. That is, from what I understand, science. It is organic and adaptive. It is more than just pouring one illegible chemical in a test tube into another illegible chemical in a test tube; it’s asking, “Why does the sun rise only in the East?”and “why do apples fall?”
Simple. Clear. Easy. These words are inviting to the layman, and seemingly, the bane of science. I’m not going to claim that academic science is, by any means, simple and easy; the heartbeat is a beautifully pure concept, which becomes terrifyingly complex when you go past the surface and look at the details. But I think that the scientists driven to these deeper searches of underlying mechanisms and principles are driven by a belief that the work they do expands and enriches the understanding that they fell in love with in the first place. And in order to get these scientists and engineers as adults, you must introduce them as children to these overarching and plain concepts.
Plenty of modern scientist-philosophers, principally those coming from the areas of High Energy Physics or Astrophysics, claim that a true theory of everything – combining all aspects of science – will need to be elegantly simple, concise and consistently true. I think that, maybe, we already have that fundamental theory in its primitive, qualitative form; in my undergraduate Thermal Physics class, Dr. Y. Lee – one of my favorite professors – said that there are two universal truths in physics. These are equilibrium and inefficiency. Equilibrium is the favoring of responses to stimuli that create a system of lowest continuous energy output; inefficiency is that, in these responses, you never get out as much as is put in – a little bit is always lost and irrecoverable. That’s it – that’s Physics! I sure wish that I had learned this, or maybe have been smart enough to figure it out on my own, back in high school.
Physics and Chemistry are riddled with theories (Newton’s Laws, Work-Energy theorem, LeChatelier’s Principle, Lenz’s Law, Gravitational / Electric Potentials and Fields, etc. etc. etc.) where equilibrium is being applied to a novel phenomenon, and nearly the entirety of thermodynamics is the study of the effects of inefficiency on processes. Everything relates back!
So where am I going with all of this? Take a look at a typical tenth grade Physics or Chemistry textbook. It parcels concepts along lines that are growing increasingly imaginary; any scientist or scholar will tell you that the separation between biology, chemistry and physics as well as the subdivisions within each of the three major fields are fading rapidly. I believe the interconnectedness is a story, with the subatomic interactions of quarks, leptons and fundamental forces leading to the atomic theory, organic chemistry, biological structures, and life itself. And along the way, the principles of equilibrium and universal inefficiency guide each step taken in every process by Nature.
That is how a good science class should be – it should be a story. It should go into the details of the various theories and laws, and it should always relate those theories and laws to one another in cause and effect. Throughout all of which, it should relate everything back to the most fundamental principles – so that students will not lose sight of the forest in the trees. This is a science class that is elegant, clear and concise.
Will this turn everyone and their mother into a scientist? Of course not. This is not the only problem that drives students from these fields. But it is one of the problems that is – and here is the key phrase in this blog post – SO SIMPLE to solve: basic, basic changes in the teaching style and approach to the overarching presentation of science. This is what will invite children to study science with rapt attention and genuine love.
And this is unifying – a global concept, that would apply with the same general effect for the systems of Education in the United States as well as South Africa.
That’s my two cents on the topic. Any thoughts or feedback?
-Ryan
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I’d like to take this opportunity to share my longwinded thoughts on something near and dear to my heart – Science Education, or oftentimes, the lack thereof.
Science and Mathematics are two subjects that South Africa and the United States seem to hit about the same intensity – and they both seem to do it wrong. Test scores and general student interest in the subjects, in both nations, are generally low. Interestingly enough, this is true across all racial divides; across socioeconomic levels in both the United States and the even more racially divided South Africa. Every politician, at all levels, in endless speeches and a Ferris wheel of phrasing, has acknowledged that this fundamental problem will reverberate in the next generation’s approach to global issues and challenges – challenges that will require skill and understanding based firmly in the basics of the sciences and mathematics taught to children.
Interestingly enough, both the United States and South Africa have a history of scientific achievement. I’m pretty sure everybody who reads my blog could name by heart at least one scientist from America whose work affect their lives. And in South Africa, you had Dr. Christiaan Barnard, a surgeon who performed the world's first successful heart transplant.
So with all the glory of the sciences blared from every ivory tower…why are learners failing to grasp?
The Physical Science curriculum in South Africa is a horrendous mishmash of various scientific topics, often unrelated and presented in an ambiguous, convoluted or clearly incorrect manner. It is disastrously incoherent – jumping from Newton’s Laws to naming organic molecules, to the Doppler Effect to the diffraction of light to the equilibrium rates of reactions, to electrostatics to AC generators and finally a history of the South African coal and mining industry.
Looking at the work schedule for the year, I felt like the curriculum designer sat at a table, swallowed as many outdated college textbooks as possible, and vomited all over a pile of newspaper; whatever came out and was still partially legible – including the wet newspaper – made its way onto the national syllabus in the order it was found. The National curriculum takes too many concepts without clarity or connection, shoves them down the students’ throats and expects the students to successfully regurgitate them onto the single examination at the end of Grade 12. This is an inane and thorny task at even the best schools with the largest amount of resources in the Nation; try doing it in the rural outposts, where students do not even speak the language the test will be offered in. Is it succeeding? I will say that they are being forced to solve problems in fairly abstract scientific areas, but without knowledge or background of what those numbers they can so easily plug into, or read off of the calculator actually mean.
The class is difficult for difficulty’s sake, not for the sake of the science being taught.
First and foremost, students who come into a classroom need to understand what science is. Science is the study of Nature; it is the study of all we see around us. Science is not Nature itself; it is a process we use to understand Nature. It is not enough to know what Nature is, but how it is: this is the process of Science. It is asking a single question on a phenomena, making a guess to what an answer should be and why it should be, then answering that question with an objective experiment. If your answer was wrong, figure out why it’s wrong. Adjust your thinking, and learn. That is, from what I understand, science. It is organic and adaptive. It is more than just pouring one illegible chemical in a test tube into another illegible chemical in a test tube; it’s asking, “Why does the sun rise only in the East?”and “why do apples fall?”
Simple. Clear. Easy. These words are inviting to the layman, and seemingly, the bane of science. I’m not going to claim that academic science is, by any means, simple and easy; the heartbeat is a beautifully pure concept, which becomes terrifyingly complex when you go past the surface and look at the details. But I think that the scientists driven to these deeper searches of underlying mechanisms and principles are driven by a belief that the work they do expands and enriches the understanding that they fell in love with in the first place. And in order to get these scientists and engineers as adults, you must introduce them as children to these overarching and plain concepts.
Plenty of modern scientist-philosophers, principally those coming from the areas of High Energy Physics or Astrophysics, claim that a true theory of everything – combining all aspects of science – will need to be elegantly simple, concise and consistently true. I think that, maybe, we already have that fundamental theory in its primitive, qualitative form; in my undergraduate Thermal Physics class, Dr. Y. Lee – one of my favorite professors – said that there are two universal truths in physics. These are equilibrium and inefficiency. Equilibrium is the favoring of responses to stimuli that create a system of lowest continuous energy output; inefficiency is that, in these responses, you never get out as much as is put in – a little bit is always lost and irrecoverable. That’s it – that’s Physics! I sure wish that I had learned this, or maybe have been smart enough to figure it out on my own, back in high school.
Physics and Chemistry are riddled with theories (Newton’s Laws, Work-Energy theorem, LeChatelier’s Principle, Lenz’s Law, Gravitational / Electric Potentials and Fields, etc. etc. etc.) where equilibrium is being applied to a novel phenomenon, and nearly the entirety of thermodynamics is the study of the effects of inefficiency on processes. Everything relates back!
So where am I going with all of this? Take a look at a typical tenth grade Physics or Chemistry textbook. It parcels concepts along lines that are growing increasingly imaginary; any scientist or scholar will tell you that the separation between biology, chemistry and physics as well as the subdivisions within each of the three major fields are fading rapidly. I believe the interconnectedness is a story, with the subatomic interactions of quarks, leptons and fundamental forces leading to the atomic theory, organic chemistry, biological structures, and life itself. And along the way, the principles of equilibrium and universal inefficiency guide each step taken in every process by Nature.
That is how a good science class should be – it should be a story. It should go into the details of the various theories and laws, and it should always relate those theories and laws to one another in cause and effect. Throughout all of which, it should relate everything back to the most fundamental principles – so that students will not lose sight of the forest in the trees. This is a science class that is elegant, clear and concise.
Will this turn everyone and their mother into a scientist? Of course not. This is not the only problem that drives students from these fields. But it is one of the problems that is – and here is the key phrase in this blog post – SO SIMPLE to solve: basic, basic changes in the teaching style and approach to the overarching presentation of science. This is what will invite children to study science with rapt attention and genuine love.
And this is unifying – a global concept, that would apply with the same general effect for the systems of Education in the United States as well as South Africa.
That’s my two cents on the topic. Any thoughts or feedback?
-Ryan
Monday, January 31, 2011
01-31-2011
I went for a long run through the village on Saturday evening.
On one of the dirt paths far from the tar road, two older men were walking together.
As I made to rush by them, muttering a hasty San'bonan', one men called to me..."Give me money!"
This is nothing new, or unexpected. The village is nestled on the edge of the Kosi Bay lake system - a vibrant, diverse ecosystem culminating in endless expanse of undeveloped shoreline. There are a lot of tourists who pass through.
I paused to say, "Sorry baba, I'm a volunteer at Sizaminqubeko. Anginawo imali, I'm broke."
What he did next has affected me so much that I haven't stopped thinking about it in two days.
He offered his hand to shake and lowered his head, and said "Ah wena utisha uRyan [you are Teacher Ryan], 'fundisa 'bantwana bami [you teach my children]. Ang'thath imali [I will not take your money]."
Bucket bathing, pit latrines, fighting prehistoric insects, no running water and complaining about the heat twelve times a day. Going through the motions, lacking creature comforts because it's what the locals do, it all makes for some decent sentimentality that maybe I'll look back on and laugh about.
But these alone do not a villager make.
I'm coming to think that over time you are offered relatively few honest glimpses of clarity - when you realize that the people who live around you are not pictures from an article on the evolving globalized economies of the third world in Time, and the reed roofs are not props for glossed up shots used in African game reserve advertisements selling Exoticism. They're neighbors, friends, family. And as often as the days come when you feel you are sharing the honest humanity of the world's hyper rich in distant and shimmering, high definition broadcast America, so also do the days come when the village quietly shares its own humanity with you.
Like that old man.
I think that, right there, was when I actually became part of this village.
-Ryan
On one of the dirt paths far from the tar road, two older men were walking together.
As I made to rush by them, muttering a hasty San'bonan', one men called to me..."Give me money!"
This is nothing new, or unexpected. The village is nestled on the edge of the Kosi Bay lake system - a vibrant, diverse ecosystem culminating in endless expanse of undeveloped shoreline. There are a lot of tourists who pass through.
I paused to say, "Sorry baba, I'm a volunteer at Sizaminqubeko. Anginawo imali, I'm broke."
What he did next has affected me so much that I haven't stopped thinking about it in two days.
He offered his hand to shake and lowered his head, and said "Ah wena utisha uRyan [you are Teacher Ryan], 'fundisa 'bantwana bami [you teach my children]. Ang'thath imali [I will not take your money]."
Bucket bathing, pit latrines, fighting prehistoric insects, no running water and complaining about the heat twelve times a day. Going through the motions, lacking creature comforts because it's what the locals do, it all makes for some decent sentimentality that maybe I'll look back on and laugh about.
But these alone do not a villager make.
I'm coming to think that over time you are offered relatively few honest glimpses of clarity - when you realize that the people who live around you are not pictures from an article on the evolving globalized economies of the third world in Time, and the reed roofs are not props for glossed up shots used in African game reserve advertisements selling Exoticism. They're neighbors, friends, family. And as often as the days come when you feel you are sharing the honest humanity of the world's hyper rich in distant and shimmering, high definition broadcast America, so also do the days come when the village quietly shares its own humanity with you.
Like that old man.
I think that, right there, was when I actually became part of this village.
-Ryan
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