Lesson taught, Lesson learned

Today I had the pleasure of teaching my second class in Malawi, which is the course I took over from another instructor at Chancellor College (as described in an earlier posting—Monday, I believe). This was quite the experience, as this time we met in a different classroom than last time, so I had to ask the secretary how to get there. Luckily, it wasn’t too difficult to locate, but then once I got there, the first thing I noticed (well, actually, a student pointed it out to me, as I was a bit nervous and failed to notice) was that there were virtually NO chairs in the classroom. In my own defense, I did get to the class a bit early, and only a few students were there, all sitting down at their desks, so the absence of chairs was not as apparent due to the absence of students… apparently most of them were out searching for chairs.

Of course, as soon as I began my lesson, I couldn’t help asking whether the students had to pay a lot of tuition to attend the college, and when they emphatically replied in the affirmative, I then couldn’t help making a comment about the lack of chairs, and how they should be provided, as they paid good money to come to the school. Ah, yes, comments like this have gotten me into trouble before, and perhaps it will happen again. I just can’t help myself. I later received a ride home from the department head, and when I asked about the chairs, he assured me that there were enough chairs to go around, but just that some rooms have more, and some have less, so often the students have to collect chairs from other rooms…he even made an analogy comparing the situation to the distribution of resources around the world, i.e. the wealth of resources we have in the U.S. as compared to the scarcity of resources in Malawi. Perhaps he was asking me to quit my whining. Point taken.

So, after the chair situation was sorted out, we had a fabulous lesson, and at the end of it, the students stood up on their desks, and shouted, “Oh, Jennifer, our Queen!” (a la “Dead Poets Society”) -- It was amazing. Ha ha, just kidding… had ya for a second there, though, didn’t I? ;-)

Actually, overall it didn’t go too badly. Like I may have mentioned before, they seem to be a typical group of college freshmen: most are relatively passive, but once the class got going, they seemed to get a little bit more involved, and didn’t seem to hate my group work too much. It looks like I’ll have to do more in-class pair and group work here, as the system doesn’t allow for very much out of class work, and this is primarily a writing class, so I need them to write. The good side of this is that I can also have them do a lot of peer review in class (which I introduced this morning), so hopefully that will take away some of the burden of marking (not to mention figuring out the grading system here—see Memento Monday post for details on that…)

All in all, I think the lesson went well. I’m not quite sure what the majority of the students think of me or my lessons yet, but they do seem to try to laugh at my attempts at humor (I told one student he sounded like Nelson Mandela today, hoping it would flatter him, but I’m afraid somehow it might’ve caused offense, as the other students laughed a little too vigorously at that comment… I may need to watch my attempts at comedy/ flattery…) A few students also stayed behind to have their work looked at and ask questions, and seemed appreciative of my assistance. I think this is overall a good, hard-working group. I’m sure adjusting to a 3rd teacher in one semester is not the easiest thing for them. Hopefully I can get them to stand on their desks and proclaim me their queen by the end of the term. HA! Fat chance.

After returning home from my fabulous lesson at around lunchtime(following a small fiasco with the transportation), I discovered that Deliwe’s cousin the woodworker was again waiting for me behind my house. OK, now I’m finally starting to wonder. I just said hello, and went inside to eat. Since Deliwe was not home at the time, and her cousin seemed to be chatting with Harold, the gardener, I thought maybe they were friends. After Deliwe came in, she explained to me that her cousin (his name escapes me, sorry) wanted to offer me this small box as re-payment for the extra 1,000 Kwacha (about $7) I gave him the day before (which to most Malawians is a good chunk of change). Yes, I did leave something out of my story yesterday. I actually “lent” him some money towards a future purchase, in addition to the money I paid for the items I had bought. Ya, I know… I’m a sucker (well, I prefer to think of myself as just too nice, but I do have a limit). But now I’m learning. I wasn’t really interested in the box he had brought, and when I went out back to let him know, he started to tell me about some other items he could make for me. I told him that I really could use some small, covered wooden bowls for salt and sugar, which he agreed to make. Some of the other items we had discussed yesterday, and I said I might be interested in those in the future.

Originally, we had agreed that he would come back on Friday to put together the table lamps I had bought (since I’d only purchased the lamp-posts), and at that time I’d look at what he had. Because of this, I wasn’t expecting him to return today, so when I saw him, I knew something was up. My friend Betsy and I had talked last night about the tendency of many craftsmen and salespeople at the markets here to use a “sob story” (as she put it) to get you to buy more things. Of course, yesterday’s purchase was the first time I’d experienced this, and since I had purchased items from this man once before, I guess I didn’t realize he might be lying. Again, the Pollyana side. He wouldn’t lie to me, would he? Ya, ya, amazingly, I still sometimes think this way, regardless of the cold, hard front I try to display at times, and the amount of traveling I’ve done. In any case, today when I told him I didn’t really need the box he’d brought, but that a couple of small covered bowls would interest me, he went on to tell me that he needed to borrow some money to buy a good piece of wood. At that point, I drew the line, telling him that I’d paid him a lot of money yesterday, and I really didn’t have much left, which was the truth.

I later told the whole story to Deliwe, and when she found out how much I paid for yesterday’s items, she admitted that she thinks he’s asking too much. Apparently he did the same with her when she first started working with me, assuming that she had a lot more money to spend as well. I’m not sure why she didn’t warn me about this, except that maybe she felt a responsibility to help out her cousin. I’m sure the loyalties can be split in such a case, as she and I are becoming friends, and to her (and most Malawians), I seem to be incredibly rich. In comparison to most Malawians, I suppose I am, but eventually I have to go back to the states to live, and let’s face it—the monetary demands of living in the U.S. are much greater than most other places (certainly here), so I need to save some of my money, at least. So, from now on, I’ll only shop the markets with Deliwe or Betsy. On my own, I’m simply too much of a pushover.

So, in the end, a lesson taught, a lesson learned. A good day in my book. Tuwonana Mawa! (I think I finally spelled it right!)