"I Want You to Stay With Us for Some Days..."

We walked to the school on our own this time. It's really a 20 minute walk turn 10 when you trade in African legs for your Western ones. Principal Resper greeted us and we chose a class at random to assist. I walked into Grade 4, hoping to see the charismatic boy named Francis who reminded me so much of a student I knew back in Baltimore. He was funny and friendly and seemed to have everyone's respect. Sure enough, his face was the first I found and I saw him silently cheer at my entrance. Oh yeah, we were buds. 

I sat at the back of the classroom as I had before, waiting for teacher to arrive. Everyone just stared. I stared back, smiling anxiously. After several minutes, I realized that the teacher was not coming. It was just me and them. Why hadn't Principal Resper told me the teacher was absent? Why hadn't she assigned us a classroom that was obviously in need of an adult? On the other hand, I saw this situation as amazing luck and eagerly jumped in to my first day of full-time teaching. 

It was double English period. Francis took the lead and showed me what page they had left off on and we dove into a lesson: the use of "a lot" and "a lot of" ( Matatus hoot a lot. Matatus do a lot of hooting). I realized that had I not been there, the students would have sat quietly in their classroom completing revisions in their work book. Maybe another teacher would stop by midday to give a quick instruction but for the most part, these kids had been unsupervised yet right on task. 

I fumbled through the day, making sense of their schedule and finding work for them to complete. Honestly, they may have been more productive if I hadn't shown up. Once I arrived they became loud, showing off and improvising school rules, quarreling over what exercise to complete and leaving me at the head of the room looking dazed and confused. But we rolled with it.

Lunch came and Florence and I ate leftover pasta in the office. We needed a break from continuous stares, pokes and hair pulls.  But we ate too fast and returned to the school yard after only 15 minutes. We headed to the yard to play hand games, answer questions and tell stories. Other teachers laid out on the grass, socializing, letting us entertain their students for a while. 

We sat down, trying to seem less conspicuous. One girl sat next to me on the  ledge and mentioned how some children were caught speaking Kiswahili on a English speaking day. Like most other things said that I didn't understand, I nodded and dismissed the comment. But then I saw students gathering in front of the classrooms. And Principal Resper sitting with a switch in her hand, eyeing them. The girl turns to me again, "they were caught speaking Swahili", she says, nodding towards the group. I understood. 

Principal Resper told us to go to the field. She didn't want people watching. Maybe she doesn't want mzungus watching. I didn't see where or how many times she hit them, and I knew my opinion didn't matter here. We resumed our stories on the other side of the yard as students trickled back one be two by three. One girl crouched by the wall brushing away tears but the rest of them jumped right back into play. I recognized some boys from my class. 

I taught the rest of the day, letting students play teacher for lesson reviews and drawing up a game of hangman during Kiswahili class. The last 10 minutes were revisions but quickly devolved into free time. Francis and Adalite scribbled notes in the back. 

A rush a relief hit at the sound of the last bell. Nothing is more exhausting than being perpetually confused. But as we said our goodbyes, I felt energized and proud. I made it through the day. And I get to do it all over again tomorrow.

We walked through the slum back to Winnie's, ignoring some shouts of "how are you!" and acknowledging others. Rain drops pattered and we wondered if we would get caught in the same downpour from last night, the one that allowed rising red dust to settle and stay. 

Once shoes were taken off and backpacks plopped on the beds, I unfolded the notes that Francis had given me at the end of class:

"From Francis to Helen

Dear Helen,

I want you to stay with us for some days, and if you a going do not forget us please. You and Florence are our best friends and will miss you. But if you go to where you live...if you want to please live (leave) for us your number so that we will call you. Tell Florence to leave for us her number. When you go and when you come back, come with your friends. 

Your Friendly,

Francis"