Went to church two days ago; it was very much like back home, except that I didn't understand a word of it since it was in Chichewa.
I've been told I'll actually be teaching next Monday. Only Form III though, so things should be pretty easy. I'm not worried about it - I'm actually quite excited. I haven't done any planning of my classes, so I may do that this afternoon.
Friday, October 29, 8:30 PM
Have to get up at 4:15 tomorrow to go to Chiradzulu with Gary, Jason and Janine to see Wendy, so I'll keep this short. I coached volleyball today, and I'm really seeing an improvement in the girls' performances. It's turning out to be a lot of fun.
I had my first experience teaching yesterday: French to the teachers. There was only Mrs. Chilambo, Mrs. Lisimba, Sister Immaculate, and Mrs. Tambala, who reminds me a lot of a Klingon. Class was fun, but the damn blackboards are too short. Oh well.
Postscript 2010: First off, the church experience. I only went to church once in Malawi and it was on the day when Sister Odelia, the Deputy Headmistress, asked me if I went to church. I thought, Do I lie to a nun? So of course I did and told her Yes, of course. The truth of the matter was I had become the "big event" church-goer: Christmas and Easter. But I went on Sister Odelia's insistence, and felt a little uncomfortable because I was conspicuously mzungu in an otherwise Malawian congregation; the only other white face was the portrait of Jesus below the cross. Pink-skinned and bearded, it was no wonder children in the neighbourhood called me "Jesus" as I walked along the paths. (Some also called me "Chuck Norris." Sadly you see what they are exposed to in the video houses.) A year after my posting, an American Peace Corps volunteer moved in a few minutes from my house. After a few months in the country, he decided to grow a beard. Even though he was considerably shorter than me and had dark hair, he was also labelled as Chuck Norris. It was especially confusing for a group of young boys one day as they saw both of us walking to town together. Muwiri Chuck Norris? Two Chucks?
As for teaching French to the teachers, I was going batty at this point because I had yet to teach a single class, so I felt I had to do something useful. No one had bothered to tell me before my arrival that students from Forms 1 and 3 would only show up a month after Form 2 and 4 students, the reason being the Form 1 and 3 students were waiting to hear their results in order to go the next grade (there were exams at the end of primary school and at the end of Form 2). So I taught the teachers French, which we all got a kick out of for the first week, then realized it was going absolutely nowhere.
There was a nun who wanted extra lessons at my house on Sundays (after church). I initially agreed but after a while realized that having a nun who was about my age over to my house was not a very good idea. We moved back to the staffroom for lessons and eventually found other ways to occupy our days without each others' company. She lent me her copy of the King James Bible for the duration of my stay. I was so bored at night I actually ended up reading it. I was unconvinced from the start. Who the heck lives for so long? Genesis 5:5: "And all the days that Adam lived were nine hundred and thirty years: and he died." The nuns were of no assistance in helping me out: what's written is the way it happened, they maintained. Have faith. I tend to lean more towards the Dalai Lama's thinking. In his latest book, Becoming Enlightened, he mentions that, according to scriptures, Buddhas in the past lived in times when the average human lifespan was 80,000 years, 60,000 years and 20,000 years. He writes that, in light of recent scientific developments, these figures might need to be reconsidered. At last a religious leader who acknowledges that some texts should not be interpreted literally.
At the time, I could not have been more irreligious, which made me self-conscious and unwilling to divulge my views on religion while surrounded by nuns and other colleagues for whom religion is a significant part of their lives. I believe at least one of the nuns was testing me as well, and I think it was because the previous volunteer was gay, something the nuns (and probably some staff) disapproved of. I sensed a palpable reluctance for some staff to accept me at first. If there was a lesson to glean from this, it was to ignore what preconceived notions others had about me and to simply forge ahead with my work, knowing that my actions would in time enable me to earn their respect.
