Installment #7--Pabo S.S.--A Little Slice of Heaven (It is supposed to be hot there right???)

We dropped off our bags, and I changed into a long-sleeved shirt, long pants, and shoes. It is definitely going to take some adjusting to get used to the proper attire when the temperature gets into the high 80’s and the sun is beating down hard. Amy took us back over to the school, we met the headmaster, signed some documents (I hope I didn’t commit to a three year contract), and Amy took off. Trisha, Danielle, and I were finally all on our own in the middle of an internally displaced camp housing 60,000 displaced persons with no running water or electricity. Otim Walter Knox—the headmaster—and Odong Quintine—the deputy (2nd in charge)—took us around to show us the facilities. Schools in Uganda are typically built in classroom blocks with 2-3 classrooms next to each other in one long building. At Pabo, some of the classrooms are mud brick and mortar with corrugated metal ceilings, and others are a little bit newer and built out of concrete. The newer buildings were all built by NGO’s operating in Uganda. The older classrooms do not have floors, so the students have to sweep the rooms out and pour water every morning to try to keep the dust down. The rooms have several windows that stay open so that hopefully you can catch a breeze. Students do not have any textbooks, have one pen that they keep track of like gold, and use small notebooks to take any notes they need in the books.

After our tour, we went to the teacher’s lounge, met many of the teachers at the school, and sat down with our teachers. Charles taught the last period of the day, so I observed his last class. At Pabo, we actually have fewer students than many schools in Africa, but our classrooms are smaller as well. We have about 60 children in each of our classes. The whole classroom procedure will take a little getting used to, but I was really excited about the prospect of starting soon.

After classes, the three munu’s at Pabo called bodas and headed back to the hotel. We unpacked and got situated, and by the time we were finished, Walter Quintine, and a few other teachers had shown up to make sure that we were settling in all right. We had a soda with them, learned a little bit about the camp, and then our dinner was ready. Harriet, our personal cook and launderer had made chapatti (like thick flour tortillas), rice and beans for dinner. (After posho and beans for lunch, it was a little redundant, but we were tired and didn’t mention it). After dinner, it got dark very quickly, so Danielle, Trisha, and I talked for a while and headed to bed.

Tuesday ran pretty much as expected. We woke up early, bathed with our Jerry cans, and headed off to school. Breakfast consisted of a protein bar, two pieces of bread, and some peanut butter that I poured onto the bread. Trisha, Danielle, and I took off on our bikes for the school and were greeted by many little children yelling “munu byeeee!” as well as many adults laughing and smiling. We greeted as many as we could while we rode. Just outside of the IDP, I swerved to miss a bus who was wildly weaving from one shoulder to the next on the road (a common practice—many people take Dramamine before riding in a car) to avoid potholes and find the least bumpy route. When I swerved, the bike tire didn’t. I blew out a tire before ever making the trip to school once. I hopped off my bike and Danielle and Trisha kept going. If I would have walked the rest of the way, I probably would have been a half hour or more late to school, so I walked back to the camp, dropped my bike off at a small bike repair stand (one of the few trades, along with tailor, that people in Uganda are frequently taught), and found a boda to take me to school.

When I got to school, I talked with Charles a little bit about how he wanted to run the experience, and we looked at the plans for the rest of the week. We decided that today I would observe the classes still, and then tomorrow, I would be able to step in and introduce the lessons on pronouns to the S1 students. I observed two more classes during the day, and was able to write up a lesson plan for the class tomorrow. Charles and I shared the information, found some readings for later in the week, dropped them off with the typist, and were done for the day. (Oh yeah, lunch was beans and posho again—I believe that people eat this for lunch every day here—we’ll see). After school I walked back to the White House. It took a little over 45 minutes but was not that bad of a walk. As I moved further and further along the road, I was joined by more and more students who had all sorts of questions for me. The students asked about America, asked about superheroes and Jean Claude VanDamme. I asked them about school, and the camps, and their lives. Most of the students were pretty nice, and seemed generally interested and curious about me. In Gulu, there are so many NGO’s that it is not uncommon to see a white person around town, but in Pabo, there are so few that everyone notices you.