The school that I have been volunteering at is a primary school called Chapakazi Centre, which is located in Pasua: about 45 minutes on the dala dala. We have about 20 students but they don't all come regularly so it can be hard to keep track. They range in age from about 2 to 7 years old, which can be a major challenge in trying to cater a class to such a diverse range of skill levels. An additional challenge is the fact that aside from some notebooks that they pull out maybe once a week for an hour, the only thing you have to work with is chalk and a chalk board. A lot of the time I will have two students working at the chalkboard and one of the 2 year olds in my arms while I simultaneously try to do group activities with the rest of the class to try and keep them engaged in learning. It can be a challenge.
The school building itself is a typical one for the poorer area of Pasua. It has a basic cement floor and two mats that look like they are made out of couch fabric and which are ripped and faded. The walls look like they are made from scraps of wood and the roof is a typical Tanzanian one made out of metal sheets. It has a blackboard on either side, one wooden table, a broken shelf where the children keep their bags, and some small scrap wood bleachers at the back. The yard is a small dirt area sectioned off from the road by bushes, with a large tire, a wooden bench, and a sort of kitchen in the corner where they make their morning porridge.
Much of the time, the yard is filled with chickens that wander in from the neighbouring yards and, apparently, mice. The children recently discovered that I have a hilarious reaction to dead mice so their favourite game is to parade it around the centre, holding one by its tail, and present it to me as the rest of the children run along behind excitedly screaming and laughing. I don't find it quite as entertaining.
They don't have the same segregation of clothing here between the sexes; a lot of the boys wear pink and other things that were obviously made for girls. I think most of the clothing they wear is used items from Europe and North America. There is one boy that wears this shirt almost every day that says, "princess in training". It is the cutest thing. I am definitely not telling him what it means.
They speak basically no English and I really want to be able to talk to them so I have been studying Swahili a lot and taking classes. Despite the fact that I can't speak to them at all, I am seriously falling in love with these kids. They have nothing and they are still the happiest, most loving group of kids I have ever met. Their clothes are filled with holes, some literally wear sweaters with an entire arm missing and the extra yarn just hangs off the end in a ball, and they pretty much wear the same ones every day. The school fees are on a give-what-you-can basis so some families just donate food because they can't afford anything else. I just can't help wondering where these kids will end up. How many of them will even make it through school when their parents can't even afford a 7,000 tsh (about $6) school fee. I desperately want to leave them with something that will make a difference for them, but it is so hard to know what that is. When you are here, you realize how much corruption there is, especially with orphanages and schools. There are a lot of disgusting people that use the kids essentially as bait for foreign money and then things disappear once volunteers have left. I was talking to my house mother about a previous volunteer who went out and bought a bunch of clothes for the kids at the orphanage she was working at and before she even left they had mysteriously disappeared. Stories like these are everywhere.
I have gotten a good vibe so far from the school I am working at, but it is honestly so hard to know what happens after you leave. I just want to leave them with something that can't be taken away from them. They are such good kids and they deserve so much more than what they have.
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