liz, 13 Nov 2008 12:55 hours
Jambiani, Zanzibar, Tanzania Busy in jambiani Most mornings I cycle up the beach to school, saying “Hello” to seaweed ladies, fishermen and the Masai. The seaweed ladies look very striking in their vividly coloured kangas as they wade out into the sea but their work is backbreaking and very poorly paid. Originally seaweed farming was introduced to give the men some work but they decided that it was too hard and too poorly paid and so now the women and children do it. The Masai sell bracelets and necklaces to the tourists. They always greet me enthusiastically with lots of smiles and hand shakes and attempts at conversation. They are very young and a long way from home in Arusha where “mum is making the jewellery”. Very busy mum! They come for English lessons occasionally and we practice selling jewellery to each other and battle through a few useful words and phrases.
At school, I am supposed to work with the teachers but often I teach on my own. Teachers disappear on a regular basis. I took 60 five year olds for a maths lesson the other day and faced with no teacher and no books (and no chairs or desks either) we did clapping games – 1,2,3, up, 1,2,3 down etc- which had them all laughing and trying to count up (eventually) to 12. The children have little pearly sea sells for counting so we shall use the shells next time.
I am also learning songs and games suitable for 5 year olds and one of the teachers is teaching me the “Boogie Boogie” in Kiswahili. I couldn’t actually tell which language the children were singing in, but they had great fun putting their left legs in and out etc.
I am enjoying the challenge of working with a much younger age group although my priority is Form 1. Form 1 are the equivalent of year 7, except that there is a much wider age range as some students have to wait until their parents can afford to send them to school.
Jambiani School has a library and I am working my way through the shelves. I had sorted out all the adult fiction and children’s books into various categories but then discovered that the librarian had come after me and changed it all as she had her own system – from tallest to smallest. I have discovered a complete reading scheme in a cupboard and I am working with some other teachers to make use of it. Its not culturally specific but its all we’ve got, so we’ll do our best. I have some catalogues for more suitable reading books and once we find a way to use them, I shall order them. Trying to organise reading sessions with 60 young children, with not one desk or chair between them, is an interesting challenge.
I finish about 1.30 and then go home to rest. It is too hot to do anything else and then on 3 days a week, I return to school for 4.00, to do 2 hours of community classes. I usually have a 1 hour computer class followed by an English class. On Monday, the door key did not appear until 4.30 and so I had the computer class in one room and the English group next door and I commuted between the two. Fortunately everyone is very relaxed.
Because of Ramadan and the national exams for Form 4 (GCSE stage), the school only started properly two weeks ago. Schools close if there are national exams being held on their premises. We shall have another 1 week of full-time teaching before the December holiday, as there are 2 more weeks of national exams (Standard 7 and Form 2) to be fitted in. I intend to work in the other village school whilst the exams are on. I already teach maths there on a Wednesday but last week when I turned up, I was told that because of the heavy rain, there were no children to teach.
Jambiani did an extra week of fasting so we celebrated Eid a week later than the rest of the island. Eid was wonderful. All the children were out in their new clothes, parading around with great pride. The boys would not have stood out in a school playground in England with their trainers and jeans whilst the little girls paraded around in the most glorious, frilly dresses and sparkly white socks and shoes. Headscarves were minimal. Sadly taking photos is not appreciated.
The little children are very well dressed. I like to see the washing lines festooned with all the lovely baby clothes that they buy here, something I never saw in Mwanza. Even the men in the village spend a lot of time with their babies. There are various “camps” around the villages where the young men and boys hang out and even there I occasionally spot a baby in amongst them. I was really impressed to see my landlord taking in the washing this morning, a row of little dresses, socks and pants.
Last Sunday I missed the last bus to Jambiani. I decided to get the bus to Paje and walk, presuming that I would get a lift. I got to Paje about 6.00 and started walking. Half an hour later and not a vehicle on the road. It is dark by 7.00 here. No street lights either so dark is very dark. I was wondering if it had been such a clever idea when a scooter stopped beside me and the passenger got off and offered me his seat. No helmet but still… I climbed on (with difficulty) and to my amazement, the passenger got on behind me. Anyway the three of us careered off down the road. I closed my eyes and prayed. Obviously we arrived safely but I don’t fancy a repeat performance.
The only draw back to living in Jambiani is its isolation. To get to or fro town can take 2-3 hours in a very uncomfortable, hot and squashed bus. The record stands at 5 hours. There are no seats, just benches along the sides, and passengers simply squeeze in or hang off the back. We managed 54 the other day but then there were people on other people’s laps and a lot squashed on the floor between them. 25 would be all right. The busses carry a lot of luggage and so the roofs are quite low and we have to bend low to get in and to find a space. Usually the floor is full of bags, boxes and piles of eggs so getting to a space can be quite fraught. The other day one lady accidentally sat down on a pile of several hundred eggs. Not all of them broke.
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