👷🛠Eine deutsche Übersetzung ist in Arbeit... 💪
I want to buy some drinks for the boarding students in school so J offers me to help organizing them. We go and he tells me how to say “huge” in Swahili so that I can buy huge bottles. I ask the guy for huge bottles of soda. He shakes his head and turns his ear to me and makes a face of deep concentration. I'm afraid that I've made a mistake and repeat it again. He looks at J and asks him. He starts chuckling and tells me to repeat it again (in Swahili) I ask him wether I made a mistake and how to improve it but he says just repeat it (in Swahili). I repeat it and the guy looks completely lost. He starts talking to J and he laughs harder than ever. Then he repeats exactly what I've said and finally the guy says he doesn't have those bottles. We leave, J still chuckling and me too because I obviously didn't do anything wrong but the guy didn't understand me. Everyone around us starts watching the white girl as she starts to laugh so hard that she needs to bend a bit. J tells me that the guy said he doesn't understand me because I would speak English. Since when is “Una soda bonge?” English? J suggests that next time I should try to ask in German.
J suggests that we need to find a place where we can eat pizza from time to time. When I go to look for a toilet I follow the signs into a kind of a dead end. I can't see the doors. Then I hear someone peeing. I look at the wall and realize that the toilet doors look exactly like the wall. I open the door for women and find myself in a small room with a second door and a place for a washbasin although there is not washbasin. I push the door which is a bit open and face a woman standing behind the door. (“I am so sorry, but shouldn't you have closed the door?” Are my thoughts!) We change places and I push the door close. Oh shit. The door doesn't open again. I put my finger in the hole where there should have been a look and push my shoe below the door and pull with my foot and my finger and the door opens again. Afterwards I tell J what happened and he enjoys my story. This is so weird.
When go to the White House I see a guy standing half way on the street rather swaying on the spot and say with a giggle to J: “Don't dare and pee there!” He pees... It is not at all the edge of the street. J swears upon his people and says: “We need to change.”
I packed an extra bag for my sleepover at the hostel and take of to school. In the staff room BM asks me what I am going to do with them. I tell him and he says: “Where are you going to sleep?”
“I guess on a bed?!”
I do not understand is question I just told him I will have a sleep over a the schools hostel.
“Loreen, that is not good.” What? “You will have to sleep on a mattress just like the others.”
“Yes, I know and I do not see the problem.”
“The mattresses there are very thin and narrow. It's not good for you.”
“If the students can sleep on them I can sleep on them as well.”
“But you are a teacher…”
“Which means I am a human just like them.”
BM shakes his head and looks sad. I don't understand why someone should pride themselves so highly for being a teacher.
After school my students see my second bag and ask wether I am already going back to Germany. When I say: “No, but I am having a sleepover at the hostel tonight.” The faces first get happy and then confused. One of the nicest P6 girls says: “Stop joking.” It sounds like she doesn't want to get her hopes up. “I am not joki…” I can't finish my sentence because the girls who surrounded me are hugging me now, which knocked the breath out of me. P4 students see this and ask what happened. I tell them and I get another huge group hug. We go to the dinning hall (a rectangle space under a metal roof top) where the students have to wait until the so called “sisters” come and pick them up. While we are waiting we have porridge. The students have to stay in a straight line in order to get their porridge. I line myself in and tell my P6 students who try to get in front of some P3 students to go back to the end. They try to stay there which they would not have dared if it would have been for JM standing there with a stick but I am glad I do not frighten them to death. I am just a human just like them I don't want to be treated special. But I want them to be “good boys” so I tell them when they are doing something rude. I tell them again to go to the back of the line and they go with a slight smile as though they appreciate my way of teaching them. A secondary student tells me that I don't have to stand in line. (Apparently her sister in P6 told her I am going to sleep in the hostel tonight as she grins as I have never seen her grinning before.) “Teacher, just go and take porridge.” I shake my head with a smile and say: “You don't have to call me teacher. I am just like you! I will wait just like you.” She seems even happier than a second before and goes to the end of the line. When it's my turn to get porridge the cook is surprised that I have waited in the line. One P6 student was helping her and hands her now the cup they kept for me. (Why do you give me so much extra treatments?) I know it would be rude if I don't take it so I thank her not only for the porridge but also for giving me a special cup. While everyone eats or drinks I watch a secondary student and two P6 students standing next to the dining hall in the sun. The secondary student takes the glass from a shattered watch and the lower arm of one of the P6 students, then she holds the slightly magnifying glass over the arm and directs the sunshine through the glass onto the skin and after two seconds the girl jumps back obviously burned. The next P6 student stretches out her arm out disbelievingly. As the secondary student takes her arm I say: “Stop that.” I tell them that this is not good for their skin and decide that I will show them later what happens with paper so they can understand it’s bad for skin as well. The students seem to be disappointed but a few minutes later they show me paper and ask wether they can burn it. I tell them that would be ok but only if they promise me to only burn paper and no skin. I wonder why they try their skin when they seem to know what happens with paper. Well I guess the secondary student just had a lesson in physics this week where she learned this and wants to show off. My attention is then directed to five P3,P2,P1 students. They introduce a girl to me and say: “This is Loreen as well.” I have to laugh. I finally meet someone with the same name. Here in Tanzania I came to know that there are a lot of Doreen's and Maureen's so my name never got mispronounced here which is really nice. Loreen sits next to me and smiles. I ask in which grade she is and she tells me that she is in P1. I am impressed. For a P1 student her English is extremely good she can keep up with a P5 student and I can tell she seems very confident. When everyone is finished with their porridge the sisters come to pick us up. When I greet them I surprise everyone. My students: because I usually don't show that I know some Swahili and the sisters: probably because they did not expect me to greet them. The students have to stay in line and even the sisters seem to use a stick (they are holding sticks). I hurry to help them and students and sisters enjoy my help. I tickle those who are not in line and let two P2 students grab my hands. Then we go through the gate and after not even two minutes we are at the hostel. I am lead to a room for ten people. Here are mainly the older students. I see that they put their shoes in front of the room so they don't carry dirt inside. When I want to take off my shoes as well everyone shouts: NO. “Teacher, you can leave them on.” I try to clean my shoes a bit and then I get in carefully not to leave dirt. There are five double beds inside (some wooden and some made out of metal), above them are mosquito nets for the upper person, the lower person has her mosquito net hanging from the barrels which support the mattress of the upper person. I can sleep on the lower mattress since this double bed has no second mattress because the upper barrels are broken. I put my bags down and then I want to check how the other rooms look like and students who don't belong to this room scream invitations to me that I should come and see their room. I take out my house shoes which I brought with me and go to the room of my P6 and P5 students. My jaw drops. There are nine double beds inside. On one wall are the tiny trunks of students. Every student has a metal box with their name written on it. Apparently they use these as a replacement for a shelf. I ask whether they have chairs and tables to make their homework. “No, sometime GM comes and leads us to the school where we do our homework.” Oh goodness. I am invited to take a seat and sit down on the lower mattress of one double bed. I am so tall that when I make my back straight I hit my head at the upper barrels. One girl from P6 shows what she can do: splits, somersault, handstand. Her audience applauses. The students start clapping a melody and singing and one by one shows how she can move her hips. I am impressed and smile and laugh with them while I can't stop making compliments. When everyone is finished (after what feels like one hour) I go to the toilet only to realize that the cubicles don't have a door but a curtain. The gap between curtain end and floor is so big that you can see the whole person when she squats over the traditional toilet which is on grounds level. I feel slightly uncomfortable but remind myself that we are all human. When I want to use the sink afterwards to wash my hands I do not get water. I go back into a cubicle and use the tab instead. When I am on my way to the room again I see that all its residents went outside on the yard. Playing a game where you stand in a circle and sing while two girls are running around the circle until one catches the other. I ask wether I can join in and who can explain me the rules. The students seem surprised but delighted. After 10min we change the game a new song and one girl walks once around the circle and then steps inside where she has to dance to the melody of the song. When she's finished she points at the next girl. After a few minutes we change the game again. Everyone chooses a partner and then stand in line. The students sing a new song and we clap the melody then one girl goes throw the two lines and the arms go up as she comes closer. A few boys saw me now playing and ask wether I would mind playing with them. I say: “Of course I won't.” “Catch me if you can.” One very cheeky boy from P6 starts running and I am right at his heels. He is really good and runs sharp turns. The youngest boarding student falls down when he passes her and starts crying. I stop and take her into a hug and carry her. She cries and the girls and the boy say sorry. It's so sweet to see that everyone cares about the one who's hurt.
It's time to get in line so that we can go for dinner. I carry her the way to the dinning hall and while I am walking she stopped crying. Again I queue and get like everyone else a plate with rice and beans. I have to say I am not a fan of this diet. When we get back it’s time for praying. I join in because I want to know how they do it. But after 30min I am really overstrained this is too much for me. (I stay though.) They sing and the small students dance and afterwards they read a part of the bible. A student hands me an English bible so that I know what they are talking about. After 45min the religious time is over and the students have to stay in two lines. One line for girls and one line for boys. Then they are counted by the sisters.
J told me I should sing for my P6 students and I promised one girl in P6 to sing “Let it go” from the movie “Frozen”. I go to the room where I am going to sleep tonight and the students are rushing out calling to students who want to come in: “Teacher wants to take off her clothes.” I say: “Stay, it's alright I am going to take a shower and dress there.” I go to the toilets and investigate where to take a shower. Yeah new experience. I sit low below the tab and then take a shower. I change my clothes and then I take my phone with the music and enter the bedroom of the P6 and P5 students. I start singing and show the eager students the lyrics video on my phone. “Again.” “No, another one.” “Again, again, again.” “Another one.” The students get louder and I choose another song promising to come back to this song later. After a few songs I sing “Let it go” again and suddenly someone enters the room. I do not check who it is but after a few seconds I realize the person is really tall for a student and look around not stop singing though. My heart sinks, it's the head teacher. I grin to myself and tell me not to stop. The headteacher goes outside again. I finish the song and then I go to talk to the headteacher and see that also GM is there. They tell me that the students are extremely happy to have me here and I say I am just as happy as they are. The headteacher tells me about a girl in P4 who is sponsored from an NGO which rescued her from a marriage when she was 5 years old. I am surprised and can't believe how many different and horrible fates these students have. After a few minutes they leave again. I go to brush my teeth together with some other girls. A bedroom for boys is close to the place and tease the girls by saying they would only act like this because I am around. I go with them back to the room and sing again. A girl starts crying and when we ask what's wrong she tells me that her parents are dead and the songs reminded her. I hug her and try to spend her comfort. I ask wether she wants to start sleeping or rather listen more. She nods her head and says listen. At 22:30 we go to bed. At the next day we go for breakfast. They offer me instead of porridge tea and I accept it. I prefer tea. But I share it with my students. When we go back we play UNO until J picks me up for our dancing lesson.
In the Bajaji I tell him everything that happened. He says: “I am proud of you.” After our exhausting dancing lesson he tells me to show KM how I sing and afterwards KM says: “You have a beautiful voice.” I am glad I am already red from our lesson.
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