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It was a long, mostly sleepless, night. I am attributing my tossing and turning to jet lag, but the fact is I am anxious about the start of the business workshops. When I arrived in Jambiani yesterday the NGO program coordinator informed me that the class of women I had expected to teach would actually be a class of 25 men and only 4 women. The explanation was two-fold. The women do not speak English well enough and even more importantly there is concern in this Muslim village that if the women learned from a western woman they would acquire ‘bad’ habits. The men were chosen to attend the workshop because they are considered leaders in the Jambiani community. In addition, they all agreed to teach the skills that they learned to the women who worked harvesting seaweed. So…the classes had morphed into a ‘train the trainers’ program.
My initial reaction was to protest that the women were not being given the opportunity to attend the classes, but I remembered some advice given to me by Greg Mortenson, the author of New York Times # 1 bestseller, "Three Cups of Tea" www.threecupsoftea.com, director of nonprofit "Central Asia Institute" www.ikat.org and founder of "Pennies For Peace" www.penniesforpeace.org, during a chance meeting prior to my leaving for Africa. Greg said to listen to the people and work within their culture and beliefs. He said that the only way to make positive change is to teach within the context of the lives of your students and not to try to foster personal beliefs and western culture upon them. With these thoughts resonating in my head I walk down the dirt road to my classroom.
Although I made every effort to learn about the culture, daily life, habits and rituals of this small village prior to arriving, I make my first mistake almost as soon as I walk into the classroom. Dressed in a long skirt, a cotton shirt with sleeves below my elbow and flip flops…the only footgear worn on Zanzabar…I enter the classroom to find each of the small kindergarten type chairs occupied. I walk to the front of the room and am about to introduce myself when I realize everyone has a shocked look on their face. I am completely perplexed and not sure what to do when a very imposing looking man stands up and tells me quite sternly that I must remove my flip-flops before entering the classroom. I walk to the entrance and place my flip-flops with the others that are carefully lined up at the door. When I return to my spot at the front of the room the students explain to me that a classroom is considered a holy place and one must never wear a foot covering in a holy place. I understand and comply with difficulty standing on the broken dusty cement floor.
It is clear that the people of Jambiani consider education to be very important , but it is also readily apparent that the process of going to school is very anxiety provoking. The other volunteers share stories of terrible treatment inflicted on students by teachers. Students are punished for asking questions, publically humiliated if they do not understand their lessons and it is common to hear stories of teachers hitting students if they misbehave. I know that if I am to be successful teaching these students I must make them understand that I am different and that my classroom is a place where they can feel comfortable and actively participate. To start I spend several minutes introducing myself to the class and telling them how I hope we can work together sharing ideas, information and skills. Then I ask the students to introduce themselves. They are shy, hesitant and even a bit suspicious. They avoid making eye contact and wiggle around as they speak. The important thing is that each student takes the opportunity to tell why they want to participate in the workshop and the kind of business they would like to start.
There is a great shortage of school supplies, especially paper and pens, in Tanzania. Students are frequently forced to listen in class without taking any sort of notes. Young children cannot practice writing or even draw a picture because they do not have the supplies. Prior to leaving the USA I sent a box of school supplies to the NGO and it was waiting for me when I arrived. I distribute a spiral notebook and two pens to each student. It is hard to describe the look on their faces or the happiness this class of grown men get out of an ordinary ‘BIC ‘pen.
Now it is time for class to begin. The first day will be devoted to developing a business idea and writing the executive summary of a business plan. The students listen very attentively, but resist joining the discussion. There is definitely an anxious feeling in the room . When I created the curriculum for the classes I made it very basic, but now teaching in front of this very silent classroom I wonder if it is being understood. At noon we break for lunch and for the men to pray. I spend the time revamping the afternoon session by inserting more real examples taken from life in Jambiani. I also arrange for a local man from a nearby village to come to assist me with translating some of the more difficult concepts into Swahili.
I am not sure what happened during the lunch break, but the student’s return and most everyone is animated and eager to speak up in class. The atmosphere is much more easy going and almost everyone seems to be enjoying themselves. We do some role-plays using the local mini market and women’s craft cooperative as the setting to act out the business issue we are discussing. I knew that most of the students had many responsibilities at home so it was not in my plan to give a homework assignment, but as the afternoon progressed I decide to ask the students to prepare an executive summary for the business they hoped to have someday. I suspect that most students will not do it, but it would be a good way for them to use their newly acquired skills and for me to see what the comprehension level was.
Much to my surprise during the lunch break the students chose a spokesperson who requests that we extend the class time for both the morning and afternoon sessions. I agree to start a half hour earlier in the morning and end a half hour later in the afternoon. Now there will be six hours of class each day. I am concerned that this will be too much for the students…. and for me. The heat and humidity is much more intense in the small and crowded classroom. It is so uncomfortable and I feel as if I am melting. But the fact that the students asked for more time means a lot to me so I will extend the time.
After a walk on the beach watching a beautiful Zanzibar sunset I eat a quick dinner with the other volunteers. I plan to spend the rest of the evening reading and writing in my journal when the electricity goes off. The other volunteers tell me it could be for a few minutes or several days…..there is no way of predicting. We all walk along the beach to a neighboring hotel that has a generator to do our work and watch a football game with some of the village men. A typical evening in Jambiani!!!
Life in Jambiani is very slow, but not very relaxing. Just taking care of the bare necessities of daily life is a struggle. Most people walk to where they have to go. The only other methods of transport is by bicycle or via Dala Dala …old pick up truck like vehicles that are lined with seats. They are called Dala Dala because they cost $1 USD no matter where you go. It is a very cheap way to get around but it is very slow and uncomfortable with people literally sitting on top of each other. As poor as most people are many of them have mobile phones that run through satellite technology. The service is sporadic and unreliable. The NGO office and a few of the tourist hotels have dial up internet service, but it rarely is in service and when it is it is too slow for it to be useful.
I am finding food to be a real challenge.
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