Sally, Andy, and I taught our hearts out that first day of training—we truly did. As the peer educators blinked back at us from the worn board benches they sat on, confusion written all over their faces, we tried again to explain the concepts: another analogy, another visual drawn on the paper flip chart. The KZN peer educators speak very little English—the primary language there is Zulu—so Thandi’s translations fought to keep up with our English explanations, her strong voice competing with the sound of the wind buffeting the tin roof of that tiny church. We tried for hours to communicate the essential steps of a lesson plan but at the end, we could see it clearly on our students’ faces: they were overwhelmed, confused, and looked totally defeated.
That is the WORST expression any teacher could ever see looking back at her.
We tip-toed around the subject afterwards— initially avoiding a full debrief about what had so clearly gone wrong. We rode back to our lodgings in silence, agreeing that Thandi needed to give her brain a rest after churning out the volume of translating she'd done, while coordinating housing for the PEs on top of that.
During dinner, finally, we began to think and discuss: how can we get these concepts through? We talked and brainstormed, Colin and Thandi weighing in. After coming up with a rough game plan at long last, we turned in.
Day 2 was a different story though. We were afraid that the PEs would be wary of us altogether. Even though we'd all shared stories of our families and backgrounds on the first day-- once again translated by Thandi-- I was worried that even our presence would remind them of the previous day's dismal experience. But the PEs met us at the school they'd be teaching in, in high spirits. Apparently they'd had a blast the night before, catching up with one another. They all live pretty far away from one another, in distant towns and villages in the greater region, and had traveled to meet up with us all for this training. Their slumber party was enough of a good time to boost their spirits-- and ours, as they showed up laughing and set our anxieties at ease.
Watching their instruction that morning was actually really encouraging. Even though we couldn't understand the Zulu they were speaking in, we could see them engaging the students and trying out solid techniques. And- woo hoo!-- we could even see some of them trying stuff we'd taught the day before, which we'd thought had bypassed them altogether!
We ended the morning on a high note, taking pictures of the peer educators in front of a sign I'd found that said "Teachers" and taking pictures of plenty of the kids. The PEs found their photo session especially amusing, given that their photo back drop was actually the old toilet building.
Our afternoon training on Day 2 was already more KZN style. Instead of having the PEs on rows of benches inside, we moved out into the warm afternoon sun and re-taught the concepts from yesterday by applying them to Mpume's lesson. We also wrote everything on the board in their language, Zulu. Day 2 training was more concrete, slower, and Zulu-style... and they GOT it. :) Niabulo said at the end of Day 2, "THIS was the first day of training...!"
Day 3 was another success, beginning with a few more observations in the morning-- Musa's lesson was UNBELIEVABLE, especially considering it was his first peer educator lesson ever--
...and that afternoon, we trained the PEs in lectures, discussion, and small groups. Andy, Sally and I were really pleased to have figured out a teaching style that worked for this group, and by the end of that 3rd day, we were already sorry to say goodbye.
(Don't mind their serious expressions in the last photo... I'm not sure why they weren't smiling, but it definitely was a great 3rd day!)
On Saturday, Andy, Sally, and I worked all day long, trying to finish typing up a teacher training manual which Colin has big, big plans for. He'd told us early on actually, "You know you're not here to train peer educators."
I remember blinking at him. "We're not?"
"No," he said. "That's PART of why you're here. But the MAIN reason you're here is so that you guys can understand our various contexts enough to write a comprehensive training manual that we can send out into all of South Africa, and into Zimbabwe... and most likely other countries beyond that."
News to me, and a major responsibility. We gave it our best shot though: Andy had already written up many lesson plans for this training manual, so Saturday's project involved a lot of revising and some new writing. We felt pumped by the end of our long day though-- that was really our last big day of WORK here, and it was exciting to feel like we'd come up with a solid final project. Sunday, we drove back to Johannesburg for our last leg of the trip.
-----------------------------------
This last part, about our day today, our LAST day, I'm going to exerpt from an email I wrote earlier:
We started the day by going to a school and watching Bongoni teach. He led SUCH an incredible discussion in his class. The topic was peer pressure, and you would not believe the kind of insightful stuff these kids were saying. It was inspiring listening to some of their words-- one girl talked about how a street sweeper could be a role model, because if you ask him why he's doing what he's doing, he'll tell you it's because he wants to provide for his family and he'll work hard to do so. She talked about the necessity of not just thinking of ourselves, surrounding ourselves with the most powerful company we can find just so that we can elevate our status... but that we needed to be focused on others all the time as well, encouraging them along. It was almost a rebuttal to Bongoni's main point-- "Bad company corrupts good character"-- but she said it so passionately and from such a point of grace, I couldn't help but agree with her. I was truly blown away by what they were saying-- and Bongoni did an awesome job applying some of our teaching suggestions. I left feeling invigorated and encouraged. I thought, "THIS is such proof that we are on the victor's side... God is MOVING!"
But then... we went straight from there to a cemetary. Andy had told us about this place from the last time he was here-- he showed us a picture of graves that had been pre-dug, ready for the new corpses that would arrive that weekend. I knew it would be a heavy experience, but it devastated me. There were SO many graves... and so many of them were tiny-- you could see it was children that had been buried. On the tops of graves, there were all kinds of items-- on the child-sized graves, there were bottles and little toys and sippy cups. Thandi told us, "These are not just mothers' sentiments-- this is worship. You see, the child has died, it's an ancestor now, so they have to worship it... people come to the graves and leave these things to worship their ancestors." We saw tons of grave stones that were huge and ornate-- Colin told us that families will literally bankrupt themselves to buy a fancy gravestone for someone that's passed away, because they feel the need to worship him or her and the fear the consequences if the ancestor isn't pleased. Some gravestones were wrapped in plastic-- those apparently are not fully paid off yet, and it would anger the ancestors for the stone to be unwrapped before it was fully paid for. One gravestone supposedly had been wrapped up for over 9 years. Andy found a grave of a child that had been born and died just within the three weeks we've been here.
It was so devastating to see. Colin asked me how I was feeling and all I could say was, "Heavy."
...We went to lunch, and Sally finally asked me, "How can we help you with this hon?" And we finally talked through it a bit. Even then though... how do you just "talk through" a sight like that? Especially given where we were sitting, in this gorgeous food court in the middle of an immaculate mall. Walking by store fronts with diamond jewelry and ornate sofas in the windows, I thought to myself, "How many grave stones is THAT equivalent to?" The heaviness has lingered. After lunch I was able to just talk again though.
After that we went and had our final "exit interview" with Colin and the team. We went through all of our recommendations and presented the final training manual, which is what we completed on Saturday. The meeting lasted about 2.5 hours... Colin and Thandi and Simphiwe and Margot were all pretty thrilled I think... I asked at the end, "Was this what you were hoping for?" And they all said resounding "yes"s.
As we were saying final comments, Sally and I started tearing up again. It was a really emotional day. I feel pretty exhausted.
Packing tonight... and then-- if you can believe it, we've got another crazy early day tomorrow. Colin is picking us up at 7:15am so that we can go to a school where Thandi is going to be speaking. Then we'll go to meet up with the Soweto peer educators for a final talk with them. I guess we'll be taking communion together, and I think the PEs are probably going to say some sort of thank you. Finally, I'm guessing around 3, we'll head to the airport. Our flight doesn't leave until 8pm, so we'll have lots of time to kill. There's a store called "Out of Africa" that we all want to get a few more gifts at, and we'll probably get dinner...
And then we'll get on a plane for 16 hours.
And then I'll get on another plane for 5 hours.
And then-- finally-- I'll be home.
----------------------------------
That's all I have time to write now. Please be praying for the return journey-- and thank you for all your prayers in the meantime!!
1 comment:
Greta, I'm so glad that in the exit interview you, Andy, and Sally were able to receive that resounding, "Yes" from Colin and others. God used all of you in such powerful ways and you literally crossed language barriers and oceans in your willingness to serve effectively. I hope you know that with THIS trip you gave, you contributed, you created to make His kingdom come to many hearts.
Post a Comment