The Deep End

Two days ago, on Thursday, I started volunteering at a different school. This school is a public primary school serving mostly kids from surrounding slum areas. It is located inside Karura forest, a large community-protected nature reserve in Nairobi, and a 25-minute walk from where I’m staying.

On Thursday morning, as per the instructions of my godmother, I arrived at the school. The head teacher asked me if I was a certified teacher, I explained that I was not, and he asked me what subjects I’d be able to teach. An hour later, he brought me to stand in the doorway of Class Six (5^th grade, I think?), instructed me to teach, and disappeared.

I felt a little bit as though I had been pushed off a small cliff. Nevertheless, I managed to stay cool and began by introducing myself to the class. Then I asked the kids how old they were and what subject they were supposed to be learning. “Science!” was their response.

“What are you learning in science right now?”

Let me just say that textbooks are quite a teaching tool. At my very alternative high school, we only ever used full textbooks for math class. Therefore, I was not brought up to truly appreciate the value of this resource.

Thankfully, the students had textbooks. Never mind that they were all different science textbooks, but there were enough books in the room for every two people to share. The kids showed me what they were supposed to be starting in class that day, common communicable diseases, and we took it from there. I grabbed a textbook and started teaching, fully aware of the fact that I had never before taught science, nor had I ever heard the term “communicable disease.”

A while later, a student came into the room and announced that I was supposed to be teaching his class at that moment. I followed him out the door to Class Eight, and repeated the introductions and questions.

“What subject are you in right now?”

“Science!”

They were learning about sexually transmitted infections. Following the textbooks, we learned about syphilis and gonorrhea, the kids laughing all the while not at the subject matter, but at my English pronunciation. I have to say, I was very impressed at the kids’ ability to talk about STIs, sexual intercourse, and reproductive anatomy. There was no giggling, no embarrassment, and no apparent discomfort. I think that reveals a lot about the quality of the Kenyan education that these kids are receiving, as well as the benefit of science health topics that are so relevant to their lives. I am still so pleased that they are able to productively have these discussions.

After lunch, some students from Class Six came to retrieve me, and announced once again that they were learning science. We continued studying tuberculosis and malaria, the two communicable diseases deemed most applicable and necessary by their textbooks. We acted out the symptoms of malaria and talked about what a vaccine actually is, all the while me trying not to invent information that I didn’t know and trying to reconcile the fact that they all had different information on the pages in front of them.

The kids were well behaved – much more so than I’d ever encountered in Honduras. I think they were just so surprised to see a white woman teaching them their science classes that they didn’t know quite what to think. I am definitely the palest teacher that they’ve ever had. Regardless, I’ve heard that public school students in Kenya are generally very well behaved; otherwise they are kicked out of school.

After Class Six, I headed to Class Seven – the biggest class, 36 students – where they, too, were learning science. We learned about drug abuse and tobacco. I get the sense that Class Seven is the naughty class, especially due to size. They were very fond of laughing at me, my accent, and the way I look. Fortunately, I am very much okay with kids laughing at me. I was also surprised to find that there was an age range of five or six years represented among the students.

After the period, the students explained to me that classes were done and that it was time for games. So they brought me out to the very dusty field. I taught them a game for a bit, realized I didn’t see any other teachers, went to the staff room, and then headed home. The end, Day 1. 

I walked home positive I’d found the very bottom of the deep end. And I can honestly say that that did not surprise me.

Day 2 began with an assembly, at which every single faculty member decided they had to have something to say. It dragged on for a while, especially in Kiswahili, which I most definitely do not speak.

Afterwards, the science teacher (who it seems was away for training this week) showed me the science resources and texts he has, which is good, as apparently I am going to be a math and science teacher at the school.

The day progressed much the same as the day before. Science, science, science. And then math to Class Four. And then more science and kids laughing at me. Class Four decided that they wanted me to teach their physical education class, so I quickly improvised that.

After classes were over for the day, the other teachers could see I needed to get out of school. They asked whether or not they would see me tomorrow, Saturday, and then told me I could leave. I learned that the kids have a couple classes on Saturday, but that school is sort of optional for the teachers. So I told them that no, I would not be attending school on the weekends.

Apparently on Monday I’ll maybe get a schedule of the classes I’m teaching. As well as maybe some curriculum objectives.

It’s all quite interesting. And new. I have no sense of what the kids are supposed to be learning, what level they are at, or how teaching generally goes in Kenya. The teachers don’t seem to pay much attention to the bells that go off every 35 minutes, signaling the end of a period. The kids’ uniforms are literally falling apart from wear. Monkeys run through the schoolyard and across classrooms roofs.

We will see what next week brings, but right now, I’m so thrilled that weekends exist.

Oh, and did I mention that the toilet is a squat toilet? Yay.