A Mzungu in Africa

My life in St Judes School,Tanzania from January 2006

Monday, October 30, 2006

On Friday I cried. After one of my children was absent for a week, I sent a teacher to find out what was going on as I knew he wasn't sick. Joseph is an orphan who joined the school this year. He lives with his aunt and her mentally challenged son. Joseph is the tallest boy in the class and pretty quiet but a very cheerful child, so it was unusual for him to miss school.

When he saw the teacher coming, Joseph locked himself in their one room house. When the teacher (Ben) looked around the village, he found Joseph's aunt who is sick at the moment with a bad back as well as caring for Joseph, his sister and her sick son.

The aunt told Ben that Joseph has been very down and because she was sick, she didn't have the energy to force him to go to school. She told Ben Joseph's family history. Joseph's mother was murdered by thieves who came into their house a couple of years ago. Perhaps she tried to resist their demands, who knows why, but they cut her from head to toe with a Panga (like an axe). Joseph was in the bed beside her and witnessed all of this. Not long afterward, Joseph's father discovered he was HIV positive and hung himself, leaving Joseph and his sister orphans to be cared for by their extended family.

Today, Monday, Joseph didn't come to schoool, though his aunt assured Ben on Friday that he would. I suspect he won't come tomorrow in which case, I'm going to ahve to go and get him myself! We have a counsellor from the local community who helps us so I'm going to try to get him to come with me.

It's such a powerless feeling, knowing that you can't erase this terrible tragedy, and heal a child. Sure, I can teach him and help him as much as possible. But it broke my heart to know a child had endured such heartache and witnessed such a brutal murder and I can't do anything about it. How can you heal a broken heart or erase such memories - you can't!

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Our new family members - Our Kid, Kitten and Kuku

Over the last few months, we have acquired some unexpected members in our Volunteer family.

Our first arrival was Cora, the daughter of a new volunteer Zac and his wife Tess.

Cora is just over a year old and after a short while, seems to have become more comfortable at the school. They live in town but regularly come out to the school to visit.

Having a child around is lovely (along with 700 others that is). The children at school find it absolutely fascinating to have a white child to carry around, poke and prod. I'm not sure Cora is quite as fascinated by them, probably a little bit freaked out sometimes, and other times she's a little indifferent! I like watching her learn new words, finding her feet and getting bigger - even in the short few months she has been here.

Our second addition was Kuku, a chicken. Given as a present to Anne, one of the volunteers, we decided we would keep her (I think a chicken is a female bit don't quote me on that). So Kuku has been wandering around our volunteer area and loves to sit on my bike. She can't reach the pedals though so I don't think she'll be taking off any time soon!

We're hoping she's going to lay some eggs now that she's hanging around with a local rooster! We're now making a pen/ chicken run for her so she can't go and sit on the kitchen table.



Our most recent addition was last night -a kitten (as yet unnamed) that is around two or three days old. The mother brought him over, left her with us and disappeared. She turned up today to check he was okay and then left again.

Currently Kitty is being carried around in a piece of fabric and fed milk through a syringe. We don't know if she will live but if she doesn't, she'll be the most loved kitten in the meantime.

Having these little additions to our family is nice. It's given us all something to care about, in the hours after school. I'll add some pics and keep you updated on their progress.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

My Big Sis is Coming to See Me!

I'm very excited - my sister Paula is coming to visit me here this weekend for a week. A music teacher in Dublin, she only has a week's holiday for mid-term break. But I'm so happy to know that I will see her after nine months. She probably won't have any room for her own luggage after she brings my order of a hot water bottle, some clothes, some stuff for the school and a variety of other things. But as long as she brings herself, I'll be happy.

I don;t know if she'll get much of a rest as I want to show her as much of Arusha and it's outskirts as I possibly can. Flying into Nairobi on Saturday night, where I will meet her, we'll take the bus back to Arusha the following morning and arrive there five horus later, on Sunday afternoon.

I'll probably drag her out for lunch and to a local craft market in the afternoon adn then let her rest that evening after we feed her again.
Monday is St Judes Day so she will see the school at it's busiest and most lively because we are having a huge celebration here. It will start with a church type service in the morning, where the children and staff bring gifts in an offertory procession as a gesture of thanksgiving to St Jude. Those gifts (mostly food) will be given to local poor families. Then in the afternoon, every class (23 of them) will perform - a dance, a song, a poem, a play etc.
On Tuesday, we will go to school as normal and she will help in my class and in the Music class. After school on Tuesday, we will take my family's sponsor child swimming and then back home so we can meet her family. Then we will come back to school for a hallowe'en party.
On Wednesday, we are going to a local National Park - maybe Tarangire or perhaps Ngoro Ngoro crater so she can have a quick safari and see the local wildlife.
On Thursday, we will be in school again, and we'll duck into town so she can see the Rwanda Tribunal being held by the UN at the Arusha International Conference Centre. Then after school, we will go to her sponsor child's family for a meal and to meet them.
Then on Friday, it's time for the School Assembly in the morning where she will hopefully be able to get the children to perform a song she has taught them. Then she will help us with testing the children for next year.
and finally on Saturday, she will come shopping with me in the local markets to buy food for our kitty. That's a real experience before she gets on the bus back to Nairobi to fly home, probably exhausted, but hopefully a little more inspired about Africa and the school.

It will be so nice to show the school to someone from my family, so they can see what an amazing place this is. I want her to meet the beautiful children that I teach and some of their families; our teachers; my friends and everyone else I know here. I want her to see a little of the real Tanzania. She hasn't been to a third world country before so I think it will be a real culture shock but I think (hope) she loves it as much as I do, so that she can go home to my family and let them know that this a worthwhile way for me to spend a couple of years. And hopefully the rest of my family will follow her out next year to visit me.

If you haven't been here and are thinking of it, just come! It's incredible to experience this country and the school. It's worth saving for or taking the time off work. With National Parks teeming with wildlife, amazing mountains like Kilimanjaro and Mt Meru, beautiful beaches in Zanzibar, amazing local villages, the UN Tribunal for the Rwanda Genocides and so much more, it's worth seeing. It has changed my life and that of many people who come here!

Empty Rivers

After living in Australia, I thought I knew what a drought was. And it's certainly a problem in Australia. But we don't have to buy water. We just treat it with respect.

In Tanzania, water is scarcer than anyone can possibly imagine. Rivers beds are dry and desolate looking. Fields are starved of water, cows are living on grass that hasn't seen rain in a long time. Families have to buy it by the bucket (around 20c US) and use it with great respect.

And because there is very little water, power is just as valuable. Tanzania uses hydro-electric power generated from the water rushing (or not) down the mountains. So when there is no water, there is no power.

Last year, the Tanzanian government was being re-elected, so the prospective new President and his party omitted to tell people how bad the water/ power situation was until he was elected in December 2005.

In late January 2006, it became very well known because they started power rationing. Everyone received a schedule which outlined who would have power when. This was meant to allow businesses and families to plan their work accordingly. And it could have worked ahad they stuck to the schedule. Instead, power went on and off in the most unpredictable fashion, usually for twelve hours at a time.

This has meant that many businesses just can't operate as they often have power in the middle of the night. If you can't afford or find a generator, you simply can't open your doors.

Last week we were told that we were moving from 12 hour a day power rationing to 24/7 power cuts. The damns are being blocked off to stop what little water there is from flowing. So any day now, families and businesses will have no power at all.

I don't know how this will affect the country - I can only begin to imagine. It will be cruel and difficult time for these people.

We are lucky at school because we have two big generators. We are only using one now but from next January we will use both. Were it not for these generators, we simply couldn't open the school. We couldn't fundraise without power for computers or the internet. We couldn't photocopy exams, have lights, boil water for the students to drink etc. etc.

We spend over US$50,000 per year on diesel for our generator as it's much more expensive to run a generator than it is to pay an Electricity Bill. But it's the only way that we can run our school, we don't have much of a choice. Just today we decided that we would have to find "generator sponsors" to help us pay for the diesel (that figure only covers the generators and doesn't include the US$2000 a week we spend on fuel for the school buses!

But at least we have the option of using our generators - most people over here don't. I don't know how they will get through this.

On Monday we will celebrate St Judes Day (though it's officially this Saturday 28th October. I have written a play that my students will perform to illustrate how St Jude works. St Jude as the patron saint for hopeless cases/ lost causes, helps people who are desperate and don't know where else to turn to.

the play is about a village which hasn't seen water for six months. When I asked my students (they are around ten years old) how this would affect a village, they told me people would be hungry because there would be no maize or rice to eat. They told me they would be forced to drink dirty water and use that same water to wash with, and as a result they would get sick with typhoid. They told me how the animals would die and people would be left with no income. This is a very real scenario for these children - it didn't take much imagination for them to conceive how this might and does happen.

The play closes on a happy note. The villagers ask the village chairman and an old wise man for advice before they go to the local priest who advises them to say a prayer to St Jude and ask him for help. And sure enough it helps - the next day the rains come.

Nice ending though I have to admit, it feels a little like a hoax to tell the children that praying to St Jude will always help, much as I wish it were true. Some things seem beyond a simple prayer. but you never do know I suppose!

I know I say it almost as often as I think it, but I come from a very lucky part of the world where our children have no idea about drought and hunger and disease. And although the children here have a great appreciation for such things, it seems sad to me that they should have to know about it at such an early age. I don't know why Africa, one of the first settled places in the world, has been foresaken. This beautiful continent is drying up and no-one knows why. And maybe St Jude can help and maybe not. I hope someone up there can - Africa needs a lot of help.
Keep them in your thoughts.

Life in Tanzania

I've gotten very used to life over here, but occasionally I will stand back and marvel at how different life can be here. And it's amazing how quickly you can get used to it.

We have free internet access here thanks to a local Internet Service Provider (Habari) who give us free access as we're a school. Thanks to the genuis work of our new IT team, we also have wireless internet which we can use in our rooms, as I am doing now. I NEVER expected this over here. It's nearly as surprising as seeing Masai men, herding their goats up the mountains, wearing only a couple light Masai shuka (blankets) as clothing, on their mobile phones!

And yet, we often have no power. In fact, were it not for our generators (THANK YOU ROTARY) we would have no power seven days a week, at least twelve hours a day.

Very frequently, we have no water coming from our boarhole or the pipe which supplies the local village. We have had to buy tanks of water so we can boil it for drinking, use it to cook with, wash etc.

There is no delivery service from restaurants/ pizza places/ Chinese restaurants. but we have our own little system! We call our local taxi driver, text him a list of what we want and he goes to the Chinese restaurant in town, orders and pays for the food adn then brings it to the school. What a thrill on a Saturday night.

There is a cinema here but it rarely works. But if you want to see a film of your own, we just bring along a DVD and they will play it.

There are no public swimming pools - they are all in hotels or schools. So if you don't mind paying for a meal or drink, you can usually swim for free!

We don't have access to TV here but we usually end up seeing the latest movies as people send them out to us (THANK YOU EVERYONE) so we're kept up to date!

On a Saturday, shops close around lunchtime and don't open again until Monday morning.

Everyone rests on a Sunday and dresses up for church. And it's not uncommon for another teacher or student to invite you to their church on a Sunday. If someone did that in Australia or Ireland you would think they were trying to get you into a cult!

If you go into a bar and you want some credit for your mobile phone, they will run to the shop and buy it for you. If you want some chips and they don't have any potatoes, they will go and buy them and make chips for you without a word of complaint.

It's such a different lifestyle here. Sometimes I miss home but I love the contrast of life here and am enjoying it while I'm living here. I doubt I will ever experience anything like this again.

I try to explain to people what it's like to live here because many of my friends have no concept of Africa. I certainly didn't before I came and nothing could have prepared me for it.

I love the fact that it's so different here to anywhere I've ever been before. The culture and history is so rich, and learning about it is mind-blowing.

The simplest things here are lovely, like greetings. I've talked about greetings before but as time goes on and I learn more about the Tanzanian traditions, I have more appreciation for them. Tonight I learned that in the Meru tribe (Mt Meru is a big mountain, overlooking our school and very close to Kilimanjaro), before men enter a home, they make this coughing sound. This is to alert people indoors that someone is coming, so they can look respectable when that person comes inside. Most tribes have their own language. Language is denoted by the word Ki such as Kiswahili, Kimeru, Kichagga, Kimasai etc. In normal Kiswahili people say "Hodi" before going into someone's house. I told one of our friends that in our world we might say "Yoo hoo" or something like that but apparently that's very offensive here. Mental note not to do that one!

Then there are traditions like washing your hands before you eat. Even in the most basic bar where you might buy chips mayai (chips cooked with egg, a bit like a chip omelette), they will bring you warm water and soap in a jug to wash your hands with, and there will be a bowl underneath to catch the dirty water. Tanzanians wash their hands often to prevent disease from spreading. They are very clean overall in fact. Far cleaner than most people I know, whether they live in a mud hut or a concrete room. It really puts us to shame with our hot showers, endless supply of water and washing machines. Somehow Tanznians always manage to look immaculately clean and well put together. Someone said to me that it is very important to always look your best, no matter how poor you are. "Better to be poor and clean than poor and dirty" as they so accurately explained it.

Tanzanians wash before going to sleep instead of in the morning. And when they wash, they scrub their feet. I didn't really understand why but after having lived here for a while I do now. YOu can't get into bed with dirty feet, nor do you want to spread the dirt around. So now every night, I clean my feet before going to bed. Right now, my feet are as immaculate an any Tanzanians.

One of my favourite Tanzanian traditions/ rituals is the way they put cream or oil on their bodies and faces in the morning. Everyone from a young child to an old man does this. They keep jars of vaseline and various other creams, and lather themselves with it in the morning. From having asked a few people about this, the reason for this, especially in poor families, is to keep the body warm. The oil heats the skin, especially when you rub it in, and closes the pores so that cold doesn't get in. I've seen cool teenages, rub it on their faces, heads, arms, hands and feet before going to school - boys and girls alike. And there is no stigma like we have "creams are only for women and poofters". Not in this world! It would explain why Tanzanians have such beautiful, shiny skin! We could take a leaf from their book!

Blokes in Cloaks

Our askari (guards/ watchmen) at the school are Masai. This is pretty typical in Tanzania and Kenya. For some reason, askari are often watchmen or guards. We have around 12 of them and they work a couple of weeks on and a week off. They come from a nearby Masai area called Monduli. Some have a couple of wives and they all live in Masai style houses (boma).

Instantly recognisable by their red and black (or various other) Masai blankets, they also carry a panga (like a big knife). I've always been a little dubious about how effective their Pangas would be in the event of a real problem but thankfully, thus far, we've never had to find out.

Generally speaking, our Askari are the loveliest, most polite men. They don't speak very much unless you make the effort because most of them don't know much English. In fact, many of them don't know very good Swahilli as they tend to speak Ki-Masai most of the time. But they really appreciate when you make an effort to speak Swahili to them.

Sometimes the Asakari like to sit in the darkness and wait until you pass by, before they greet you. I can tell you, it scares the living daylights out of me. But they find it pretty funny.

I think that the most memorable sounds of my time here is hearing our Askari walk in the playground, under my bedroom window. The crunch of their feet on the marrum/ gravel is one that will stay with me for a long time. And before one shift finishes work in the morning around 6.30am I often hear them talking in KiMasai below my window and it makes me remember I'm in Africa. It's so nice to have learned a little about another culture and to get to know them. In fact, it's a priviledge.

MET

Au Revoir - Til the next time

I estimate that I've met at least 150 new people in the last nine months since I've been at St Judes. Many of them came for only a few days or weeks, and yet I've made a lot of friends. The best part about my job is that I get to show people the school.

There have been volunteers who left who made me cry like my Irish friend Charlotte, from Wexford. There have been visitors who have touched my heart like Paul Weinland, a sponsor of the school and a dear friend. And even though I haven't met his wife, Margaret, I feel like I know her. Margaret is ill after a sad accident a few years ago which has made it increasingly difficult for her to walk. I get updates from Paul and messages from Margaret which are really special. And when my precious laptop got destroyed, Paul and Margaret arranged for me to get a new one and managed to get it from the US to Tanzania. Thank you so much. But thanks for keeping in touch after you left. I hope that one day I will meet you Margaret, and I keep you in my thoughts and prayers that your pain will ease.

I have met the dear Flemings whose family comprises of an ex-Olympian, a TV presenter and dad, Lloyd Fleming. I met the Seabrooks from NZ at St Judes and shared a lovely meal with them in Zanzibar. And the Smiths, who support the school in so many ways without ever telling us where to spend the money. I have met Rotary Teams and had such a nice time with them, cutting wood, taking them around Arusha and I love hearing from them again.

I think of Len in Newcastle, Australia who has been having more chemo the last couple of months, since he left St Judes and hope that he is okay, for his sake and the sake of the family that obviously loves him. Len is one of the most energetic, friendly and willing people I have ever met. I truly hope that he will get the good health that he and everyone deserves.

I have met some amazing people and many of them keep in touch with me. It's lovely and I really appreciate it.

Keep in touch

xx Mary

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Dinner at St Judes

Tonight, I sat down for dinner with nine (9) of my housemates. We are all "Westerns"/ Volunteers living and working at the school - we form one of two "kitties" at the school - this means that we cook and eat together every night, and at weekends do a chore (food shopping, washing the dishes, taking out the bins etc).

Sitting around the table were:
Sherryn, who cooked lasagne - she's a Kiwi who has lived in the UK and Thailand and in her 30's. She teaches science at the school.

Suzanne, an Australian Art teacher, and she runs the Art dept at the school like it were a perfectly oiled engine. Suzanne, as the oldest in our "kitty" is in her 50's and she is more like a mother to us.

Dan, the lone male, is an Aussie country bloke in his twenties who teaches English (his students love reading Roald Dahl books and using words like "disgusting"). Dan will eave in December after two years at the school and head off to Canada to see a lovely girl who he met at the school.

Maria and I - we're cousins from Ireland and we both work in the office looking after visitors and volunteers. Maria also teachers PE and Drama while I teach English and Drama. I'm a reluctant 31 year old while Maria is clinging to her 20's...

Janet who is a New Yorker with corkscrew auburn hair - she's around my age. From a publishing background, and an "information specialist" (I'm still working it out) she worked in the library but then became a full-time tutor at the school. Janet arrived in January, just before me and will stay for at least another six months.

Taryn is a 20 something year old Aussie country girl (I can't even spell the name of her town but it's something like Galangbone) and she's our head librarian. She's been at the school for almost two years now and will stay for at least another year though probably longer

Karin - German girl heads our Sponsorship Dept. and is the epitome of efficiency and organisation. She has been here for a year and a half and intends to leave but somehow can't quite do it. She speaks beautiful English, German (duh), Swahili, French, Italian and Spanish!

Joanne from Sydney, has just arrived at the school. She works with Karin in the Sponsorship Dept and will stay at the school for a year, if not longer.

And finally, Maxine who is a visiting travel writer from Ireland (originally English), in her early 50's and is staying at the school for three weeks. She will be a part of our kitty while she lives at the school and help in a variety of areas; the art room, music room; library; office and whatever else comes up - all while she soaks up the flavour of St Judes!

We all sat together over lasagne and salad and ate happily (who said anything about starving in Africa though I'll freely admit that lasagne sheets stretch our budget, as does cheese - it's around AU$5 for a block of cheese and $4 for a box of lasagne sheets). I realised then that this group has become my family. We are all from very diverse backgrounds, have different experiences, hopes and dreams. Our personalities are wide and varied, as are our beliefs. In any other circumstances we might never have met and if we did, we may not have become friends.

Living with a group of random strangers is a peculiar thing. We all have our own expectations, boundaries and idiosyncracies. We have all come looking for something - whether it be realistic or unrealistic. Some are running away from problems, others are simply looking for the right place to be or to help out a community which has so much less than own.

The first few months of living together was tinged with frustration, confusion and sometimes hostility. As everyone tested boundaries, we were all equally challenged to find ways to live harmoniously. But somehow, you learn how to modify your behaviour without losing yourself. You learn to consider others and to give a little leeway where you would normally refuse to. Because if you don't, life can be draining and that affects everyone.

Maxine came bearing a bag of mini mars bars and Suzanne had a packet of peanut M&Ms. We all sat like children on Christmas morning, dying to tear open the wrappers of the goodies. Suzanne counted and then shared out the Mars Bars and M&Ms in a way that only Suzanne could - by sorting, dividing and checking again. And then we all tucked into our mini-feast. We got either 3 M&M's and a mini Mars Bar or one M&M and two mini Mars Bars. I went for the latter option.

At the end, a solitary M&M rolled around in the wrapper, and we all stared it, satiated. It was a funny moment and yet there are so many like this in Africa. It's a funny old place and at times challenging, but I've find a lovely for this place and the people that I didn't expect. I don't know how long I'll be here. Some days I just want to go home to the comfort of my own place, to a safe world where life is complicated but predictable. But most of the time, I love the newness of the experiences here and the genuine appreciation that we have for small things. It's not often that ten people could derive so much pleasure from a bag of chocolate.

And for that I'm very grateful.

ST JUDES TESTING - HEARTWARMING/BREAKING

In the last term of the year, we look for around 170 new students who will start in the lower classes the following year. In september we started looking for those students. The procedure for this goes like this:

Every Friday in September, October and November (sometimes even December) from 1.30pm (7.30pm Swahili time), potential students line up outside the gates acommpanied by a parent, sibling, neighbour - some come alone with no-one to wish them good luck or dry their tears, when the leave having been unsucessful.

Between 1500 and 3000 come to do the Friday testing every week - around 20,000 over the ten week period - to try to gain one of the 170 places. On average, around ten are successful every week.

After lining up, they are all brought into the school grounds and form two lines - one for Standard one and one for Standard two. There are few places in Standard two because it's easier to educate children when they're younger - they need to be very smart to get a place in Standard two. The first part of the test is reading - in English for St. 2 and Swahili for St. 1. I am one of the seven reading testers and encounter children who can't read at all, some who just recite numbers and others who read with surprising fluency. It's interesting to try to guess who will fall into which category, from a cursory glance. I'm rarely correct.

Those who pass (around 200 of the approx 2000) are ushered onto a grass lawn nearby and the unsuccessful are put into a group to the side, and later taken back out to the gate, to awaiting family members or to walk home alone. Those who passed wait patiently, sitting on the grass in orderly queues and then go into the Assembly Hall to sit a written exam: What is your father's name, How old are you, Where do you live are typical questions. There are also some Swhaili questions and others which test them in Mathematics. We're looking for those who get the best results - around 16/20.

Of the original 2000, around 50 will pass the reading AND written test. They will then be given a letter and told to return the following morning at 7.30am with all their paperwork; something to show their age; school reports from their current school, recent exams and copy books. We're trying to find out (a) Where they place in their class (the school reports all show this in Tanzania); (b) if they actually did the exam (by comparing the handwriting on the test with that in the copybook) and (c) if they are actually the age they say they are.

I was shocked to find out how many lie, and yet how badly they try to cover it up... tippex is a very popular though remarkably unsubtle way of trying to change a date of birth, exam mark etc. Many others will have completely different handwriting than that of the exam the previous day - their brother or sister will have sat it on their behalf. Of those 50 students who return, around 20 or 30 will have what we perceive to be genuine paperwork. Some will bring genuine paperwork but perhaps they are ranking only around 15th place in a class of 50. We're looking for teh children in the Top 5 of their class, or perhaps the Top ten if the class is big (eg 70 students).

This all sounds like a terribly harsh way to judge seven year olds but because places are so limited, and more significantly, because they will have to sit VERY difficult National Exams by Standard 4 (when they're only around 12 years old), it's a necessary evil.

Of those remaining 20 or 30 succesful candidates, they will undergo the final part of the assessment - the poverty test. Immediately after they present their paperwork, they will go home on a bus with a Western teacher and an African teacher. We go in groups so that African teachers aren't pressured by families (The Mzungu gets the blame) and so that African teachers can translate.

At the child's home, we have to ask many questions about the family members, how many rooms they have (we check them); their income; rent etc. We then takes notes about where they live; how many people share a bed, whether the house/ room is made of cement, mud or wood; whether there are glass windows or electricity lines going to the house; where the nearest water source is and even if there is glass in the cabinets. Students who have mud floors and walls, share a bed between three, rent their house and have no electricity are more likely to get a place.

While at the house, the parents have to answer a number of questions to verify this is where they live; identifying neighbours, local schools; the name of the person who runs the local shop; where they buy kerosene from etc. This is then verified by the Tanzanian teacher who goes around and asks locals some questions. At this point, many lies are discovered; last week a clever young student took us to a family friend's house where her mother was waiting. They were able to produce her copybooks, school uniform but no family photos and couldn't say where they got water from. As it transpired, this was not their home. Ironically, they were probably poor enough to qualify but because they lied, they are automatically black-listed. They knew our system - they had copybooks from the last three years and her current school uniform folded neatly in a drawer (too neatly)... But were it my child, I couldn't say that I would behave any differently. I cannot possibly understand the desperation of such a life but I can only begin to imagine.

By Saturday afternoon, around 10-15 students will have passed the intelligence/ poverty test, and they will then come into the school for two weeks for a probation period. During this time, their ability and attitude will be assessed. Then one day, they will be taken from class and two more people will go home with them to check out their house again. Now the real professionals are discovered - the Mama that allegedly died will be found alive and well; the mud hut will no longer contain their uniform or copybooks... it really is heartbreaking because no child could plan that - it takes a careful training from their parents to make them lie. And having been in the school for a couple of weeks, it must be exceptionally painful for a child to go back to their old school with at least 50 others in the class, poor teachers and regularl beatings. But again, a necessary evil if the poorest and clever children are to be identified.

By now, we have around 100 students - of which around 40 have passed probation. Of the 100, hopefully we won't lose more than ten during their probation period. Unfortunately, many now know the St Judes testing procedures and are developing their own way of slipping through the net. So now we have a new procedure in place - a member of the Parents' committee (there are representatives from every village in the district) will visit the house, ask the neighbours questions and essentially verify that all the information we have is correct. This if the first year that this additional safety net has been put in place so we've yet to find out if it makes a difference.

The procedure I've described above accounts for around 70% of children who come into the school. The remaining 30% are compassion cases; orphans, children from exceptionally large families etc. In the "compassion" category are also those students who simply will not give up. They come back week after week to sit the test (they can do it as often as they like); they refuse to go home, they sneak past the guards and form a protest outside the office. Students like this are regarded as having enough tenacity and determination and usually do exceptionally well -better than the bright students in fact.

To witness thousands of children arrive on a Friday in Communion Dresses, ill-fitting suits, tattered and torn school uniforms and a range of other poor but clean clothes is heartbreaking. And yet to see the look of pure relief and ecstacy on their faces of the families of the successful children is somethign I cannot possibly explain. It is humbling, almost to the point of embarrassing to see how grateful they are. Imagine we, in the Western world, had to jump through such hoops so that our children might be educated... I shudder to imagine!

This system is tough, there's no doubt about it. But when I look at a child who only last year lived in a Masai village, high in the mountains, working as a housegirl for her grandparents who regularly beat her - and see her coming first in her class, I can't help think that this system probably gets it right. There are 700 such children at The School of St Jude now (the patron saint of hopeless cases) - they all have their own stories, most of which would break your heart. but they are thriving at hte school - they look happy and healthy and now they have a chance to break free from the cycle of poverty which has crippled their family and community for years.

In my opinion, only through education can Africa move forward. It will take a long time but it's possible. I'm very honoured to be a part of this heart-breaking, heart-warming process. come and see it for yourself one day - it will change the way you look at your life!

CLASS 2A

Well, this is my first blog with my new laptop and though I'm not sure I'll be writing as often as I'd like to, I should be able to improve on my recent performance (or lack of thereof)!

I can't believe we are now in the second half of Term 3 at St Judes. The countdown to the end of the year has begun with only six weeks of term left. In some respects I'm sad because this year has gone so quickly. In other ways I'm excited because I'll be going home to Ireland for three weeks on December 13th!

The last term of school means finding new students for next year. Every year, the school accepts (approximately) an additional 170 students. Those students go into the lowest classes, while all other students (unless they're really far behind) move into the next year. Because the school only goes up to Standard 5 (around grade 5 in Oz or 5th class in Ireland), it means that the school is still growing every year. So next year the school will have almost 850 students.

I never would have thought I'd be able to differenciate between various children because in their uniforms, they really do look similar. Unlike white children, African children all have the same colour hair, the same colour eyes (called black on their documentation even though in my opinion they're brown). AND most of them have their heads shaved because it's cleaner and easier to manage. So telling the difference between them relies on knowing their facial features.

And yet, each child is so unique in that respect that I know many of their names. In my class, I feel like I have a hundred personalities even though there are only 29 students. Some of them are so unique, and I have a real soft spot for each one of them. I wish I'd been teaching them all year. The saddest part for me at the end of this year will be saying goodbye to them, as they'll be in different classes next year. So I'll savour these last few weeks, even though I'll have to drill the rest of the course into them, so they hopefully do well in the exams.

In my class, I have John who is the class monitor and all-round good student. He's smart, popular and quick-witted, even though he's only around ten years old. I have Diana who is almost as smart though a little impatient. She writes letters to me several times a week or rather draws me pictures. She keeps these hidden in some amazing compartment in her dress and whips them out surreptitiously in the playground. She invites me to her house (I've been once) and sometimes wants to tell me the most hilarious secrets (like; one child pinched another one).

Then there's Epifania who is the most hilarious, unpredictable child. She's sulky and cheeky all at once, but in the most loveable way. She will gallop across the playground to carry my books to class, grab my hand in the playground and then pout when I don't ask her a question first. She's demanding and yet playful. Then there's Fransiska who never appears to listen and yet who always performs well. And then there's Caius... Caius is taller than most children, the first to put up his hand even though he's often wrong. He reminds me of myself when I got the award in gymnastics for the girl who wanted to run before she could walk. I wanted to be swinging around the parallel bars before I could even reach it or put chalk on my hands. Caius is desperate to move on and easily bored (to the point that he probably has ADD) and yet he's so sophisticated and tears through the dictionary to understand words. From a broken family, he is no doubt the surrogate father at the age of around eleven. And even though he leaps from his seat continually, albeit to help clean the blackboard or collect papers, I can't but like him.

And then there's Deborah (pronounced Deb -OR-ah with a stress on the OR). A small girl with an impish grin, Deborah often does the complete opposite of what i ask but she always has a carefully though up excuse. And when you feel most frustrated with her, she will grin in a way that makes it difficult to be angry.

Lucas is a small child, who looks younger than everyone else. Dreamy, shy and vague, he is often in his own world. It's incredibly frustrating because even when he does something wrong and he is scolded, he looks so regretful. Now he's listening more and it's nice to see him spelling words correctly - even if it's just bowl!

And yet another exceptional child is sweet Magreth who is incredibly clever, demure and obedient. She rarely looks you in the eye, but takes so much in.

There are so many more of these children I could describe and in time I will. For now, I'll continue correcting their mid-term exams and doling out the stickers the love so much. They don't ask for a lot here!

Class 2A have a special place in my heart, even though they test my patience at times. They're energetic, enthusiastic and eager to please.