Before everyone (or at the very least my mother) panics, no this is not a real heart attack. This simply refers to the moment of terror you have when you realize that the head teacher is asking you to teach the third graders in about an hour and a half. And yes, this is the first time he's telling you.
I guess God decided it was time for me to step up and be a teacher. At the very least, he sure heard about it the constant desperate prayer I was having of "Please Lord, let this go well!" Although the concept wasn't very difficult in principle (telling time) there was a reason I was being asked to teach it. In at least eastern Africa, there's something known as "Swahili time" where the day begins at 6 AM, not midnight. So if someone says two in the morning, they actually mean 8 AM. The hours are always six off, but the time reference (morning, afternoon, etc.) is correct. It's very strange to get used to, and actually some of the teachers have to ask us what times the books are referring to because the books use English time, not Swahili.
So, there I was, standing up in front of about thirty third graders with nothing but chalk and chalkboard. Ironically, there wasn't even a clock in the room. And we made it work. I worked a lot with them on what the minutes were because that's where they really struggle apparently. I'm not entirely sure how well they learned. I didn't have any exercises to give them to prove that they learned it, and since the book the head teacher gave me was for Class IV not Class III, they couldn't follow along with me. But I can confidantly say some progress was made. And, I loved it. Something felt really natural about being up there. There were a lot of things I would have like to improve or change, like having more time to prepare or actually knowing their names, but it was its own blessing.
In other news, the last few days have been good. Friday afternoon I actually slept through (four solid hours of napping) because I wanted to go to the all night prayer service. You read that right. It's an all night thing where the church literally prays, sings, preaches, etc. from 10 pm to 5 am. I'm naturally a night owl, so an excuse to nap, stay up all night, praise God, and then sleep in the next day is a complete winner in my mind. I was all ready, and the pastor's daughter was going to go as well, so I even had someone to translate for me. But then the pastor asked me not to because of the mosquitoes. So... that was a bummer.
But, it was most likely a blessing in disguise. For having slept all afternoon, I still crashed that night and slept in until 10 on Saturday. I think my body needed it- I wasn't napping as much last week, and while I've been making a fairly smooth transition to the schedule here and through the time change, I had hit my limit and needed to catch up. The next day was a very lazy day for me, and it felt a lot like being home. I hung around the house and did homework all day. Even that got long for me, but I knew Sunday was going to be busy, so I needed to compensate.
I was right about Sunday. First was church, which was long and is more culturally draining than anything. Church is done in such a different style here, which I'm still adapting to, and then it's all in Swahili. I'm still able to understand just enough to get by, although the pastor's family does help us. There's one part in particular which I can really connect to. It's called "Praising Songs" and five different congregation members get up front and each one leads a different praise song. They're a few lines repeated many times, but they're praises to God. Usually, they're simple enough I can figure out we're saying, and I really like that. The first four are pretty energetic and upbeat, and the last one slows down. The differences are amazing in church here. There's only one or two people beating a drum, no piano, no organ, except for the English choir's song which we have a keyboard for. It's weird to not have no screen lyrics, no program, etc. I'm just trying to say what everyone else says and hope it sounds close! Everyone even brings their own bibles to church.
Unlike last week though, during the sermon, I went and helped the pastor's daughter with Sunday school. We take the children about eight or so and younger out and sing songs with them, she gave a short talk about being kind, they did some memory work, and then they played a game. She's asked me to keep helping with that, and I think I'm going to. It was a blast!
That afternoon, Christine and I went to some other missionaries' house to have our prayer service and a meal. It was wonderful! I do miss worshipping in a style similar to what I'm used to- singing praise hymns and even traditional hymns I'm used to is really comforting. You would think that being here and doing this, it would keep God ever on your mind. I mean, if it wouldn't have been for him, I would be at Carleton right now working on philosophy papers. Yet, you can still drift. I'm thinking about the culture, the students, the school, my own schoolwork, my life here, etc. To have that moment to be pulled back to the real reason I'm here and the most important part, it was really soothing. After the service, we had a meal together. I really don't have complaints about the Tanzanian food; I'm doing fine. The western style meal was really good though! BBQ's, potato salad, and brownie's for someone's birthday! I realized I hadn't had that much sugar in my mouth at once in a few weeks. So good!
Today was back to business- Monday's are busy days for us even without suddenly being given extra classes to teach. The rest of the week looks comfortably busy- we're going to town on Wednesday to meet another missionary for supper and over to a congregation member's house on Thursday for dinner. Christine teaches a English class to some church ladies, and I'm going to be doing a second session of that every week, more for practice. That's going to start on Friday afternoon.
I hope all is well for all of you, and I miss you all lots!
God bless!
Kjirstin
I guess God decided it was time for me to step up and be a teacher. At the very least, he sure heard about it the constant desperate prayer I was having of "Please Lord, let this go well!" Although the concept wasn't very difficult in principle (telling time) there was a reason I was being asked to teach it. In at least eastern Africa, there's something known as "Swahili time" where the day begins at 6 AM, not midnight. So if someone says two in the morning, they actually mean 8 AM. The hours are always six off, but the time reference (morning, afternoon, etc.) is correct. It's very strange to get used to, and actually some of the teachers have to ask us what times the books are referring to because the books use English time, not Swahili.
So, there I was, standing up in front of about thirty third graders with nothing but chalk and chalkboard. Ironically, there wasn't even a clock in the room. And we made it work. I worked a lot with them on what the minutes were because that's where they really struggle apparently. I'm not entirely sure how well they learned. I didn't have any exercises to give them to prove that they learned it, and since the book the head teacher gave me was for Class IV not Class III, they couldn't follow along with me. But I can confidantly say some progress was made. And, I loved it. Something felt really natural about being up there. There were a lot of things I would have like to improve or change, like having more time to prepare or actually knowing their names, but it was its own blessing.
In other news, the last few days have been good. Friday afternoon I actually slept through (four solid hours of napping) because I wanted to go to the all night prayer service. You read that right. It's an all night thing where the church literally prays, sings, preaches, etc. from 10 pm to 5 am. I'm naturally a night owl, so an excuse to nap, stay up all night, praise God, and then sleep in the next day is a complete winner in my mind. I was all ready, and the pastor's daughter was going to go as well, so I even had someone to translate for me. But then the pastor asked me not to because of the mosquitoes. So... that was a bummer.
But, it was most likely a blessing in disguise. For having slept all afternoon, I still crashed that night and slept in until 10 on Saturday. I think my body needed it- I wasn't napping as much last week, and while I've been making a fairly smooth transition to the schedule here and through the time change, I had hit my limit and needed to catch up. The next day was a very lazy day for me, and it felt a lot like being home. I hung around the house and did homework all day. Even that got long for me, but I knew Sunday was going to be busy, so I needed to compensate.
I was right about Sunday. First was church, which was long and is more culturally draining than anything. Church is done in such a different style here, which I'm still adapting to, and then it's all in Swahili. I'm still able to understand just enough to get by, although the pastor's family does help us. There's one part in particular which I can really connect to. It's called "Praising Songs" and five different congregation members get up front and each one leads a different praise song. They're a few lines repeated many times, but they're praises to God. Usually, they're simple enough I can figure out we're saying, and I really like that. The first four are pretty energetic and upbeat, and the last one slows down. The differences are amazing in church here. There's only one or two people beating a drum, no piano, no organ, except for the English choir's song which we have a keyboard for. It's weird to not have no screen lyrics, no program, etc. I'm just trying to say what everyone else says and hope it sounds close! Everyone even brings their own bibles to church.
Unlike last week though, during the sermon, I went and helped the pastor's daughter with Sunday school. We take the children about eight or so and younger out and sing songs with them, she gave a short talk about being kind, they did some memory work, and then they played a game. She's asked me to keep helping with that, and I think I'm going to. It was a blast!
That afternoon, Christine and I went to some other missionaries' house to have our prayer service and a meal. It was wonderful! I do miss worshipping in a style similar to what I'm used to- singing praise hymns and even traditional hymns I'm used to is really comforting. You would think that being here and doing this, it would keep God ever on your mind. I mean, if it wouldn't have been for him, I would be at Carleton right now working on philosophy papers. Yet, you can still drift. I'm thinking about the culture, the students, the school, my own schoolwork, my life here, etc. To have that moment to be pulled back to the real reason I'm here and the most important part, it was really soothing. After the service, we had a meal together. I really don't have complaints about the Tanzanian food; I'm doing fine. The western style meal was really good though! BBQ's, potato salad, and brownie's for someone's birthday! I realized I hadn't had that much sugar in my mouth at once in a few weeks. So good!
Today was back to business- Monday's are busy days for us even without suddenly being given extra classes to teach. The rest of the week looks comfortably busy- we're going to town on Wednesday to meet another missionary for supper and over to a congregation member's house on Thursday for dinner. Christine teaches a English class to some church ladies, and I'm going to be doing a second session of that every week, more for practice. That's going to start on Friday afternoon.
I hope all is well for all of you, and I miss you all lots!
God bless!
Kjirstin
Hi Sunshine! I love these! I'm glad that you liked teaching!! Your life sounds full, and uplifting. I'm worried about the mosquito bites - does the repellant not work? I love you! Mom
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