I’ve been teaching in Lesotho for about a month now and there is so much I could talk about. I could talk about the power structure of the school and teacher-student relations. I could talk about the cultural difference between American and Basotho school culture. I could talk about teaching methods here, the challenges of teaching in a developing country, student attitudes towards school, etc, etc, etc. I have thought a lot about this post and I have decided to keep this post mostly about the facts; what schooling in Lesotho is and what I am doing.
There are two or three levels of schools in Lesotho depending on how you look at. Primary school is from Standard 1-7 (equivalent to grades 1-7 in the US). These classes are conducted exactly like Elementary School; one teacher teaching all subjects in one classroom. Primary school in Lesotho is completely free (if you go to a church or government school). To pass Standard 7 kids take a nation wide exam during their last few weeks at school. The next level is the secondary level, Forms A-C (grades 8-10). Here different teachers teach different subjects just like middle school and high school in the US. The Form C’s take another nation wide test called the Junior Certificate (JC) exam. If they pass they continue to Forms D-E. The Form E’s also take a national test at the end of the year. I assume these results can be used to go to the university or any other further studies though I have to admit that I don’t know much about the higher education structure in Lesotho. And just to clarify a secondary school only has Forms A-C while a High School has A-E. This means that if a student attends a high school they can complete their Forms A-E at the same school while kids attending secondary schools have to apply to a high school for D and E. This also means that communities that do not have a high school have many kids that don’t go to high school simply because it’s too far. This used to be the case for Qhalasi until this year.
School here is set up differently from the US. Each class has their own classroom and teachers go to the classroom they are teaching. Therefore all the students in a class have the same exact schedule. Teachers have desks in a staffroom. Now this post is mostly about the facts but I want to bring to light a certain issue that this type of system has: kids don’t need to pass all their subjects to go to the next level. In the US, if you fail 9th grade math but pass the rest of your subjects, you retake math but progress to the 10th grade level of everything else. But here, if a kid fails math but passes all the rest of the subjects, he still moves on to the next form with his classmates. He will take the same level math as his classmates even though he did not pass the previous level. This phenomenon is particularly high in maths and science; thus lies the challenge.
The curriculum here is also set up differently. In From A the students learn a little bit of chemistry, a little bit of biology, and a little bit of physics. The next year they learn a little more of each, and in Form C they complete their secondary education of science and are ready for the JC exam. This system allows the examiners to test all three disciplines equally knowing that they have been learning them continuously for the last three years. In high school the students concentrate on either physical or biological science. Math is organized in a very similar fashion. For example, in Form A kids learn what negative numbers are but only in Form B do they begin to add and subtract them. So you can understand that if a student failed Form A science and has no idea how many electrons an element has how difficult it is for a teacher to teach him bonding.
Classes here, except for Sesotho, are supposed to be taught in English. I say “supposed to” because I have heard of many schools where this is not heavily enforced. Lesotho has two national languages, Sesotho and English, and all education related things are in English; all exams are in English. So students have to be fluent enough to do well on these exams. The truth is that most primary schools don’t have strict rules about speaking English so when kids come to secondary school they can barely understand enough English to understand a lecture. I have met teachers who are simply not comfortable teaching in English. For both of these reasons many teachers tend to teach in Sesotho rather than English. Fortunately my school is determined to improve the student’s English. Students are punished for speaking Sesotho and I am impressed by my Form A’s English. That being said I have students not only in Form A but Form B who are struggling with English and can barely understand what is happening in class.
My school is called Qhalasi High School. We just became a high school with the addition of a Form D this year. My school is pretty small. We have about 180 students total. My largest class (my Form As) consists of about 60 students. I teach Form A and Form B science.
This is a church school and is run by the Anglican Church of Lesotho (ACL). Most schools in Lesotho are either church run or government run though this doesn’t really mean much. Both receive funding and help from the government. Until this year church schools were more expensive than government schools but new laws have forced church schools to follow the same fee regulations that government schools follow. There are private schools here that follow very little government regulation. Tuition is much higher and kids tend to do much better on their exams. They also tend to be completely in English from primary school to high school. We all know how much easier it is to learn a language when we are young. Kids who attend these schools have perfect English and this is probably one of the reasons these kids do so well on external exams. Most of my teachers send their kids to these schools.
So here’s the short overview of the school systems here. When I started writing this post I had so much to share and I will as time goes on. For now I hope this gives people a better idea of what I have been doing in Lesotho this past month. I still have a lot to learn about the way schools run in Lesotho but one thing is for sure, I love what I am doing here. I can’t say that teaching is my future but I love the kids and the challenges I face teaching them. This doesn’t mean I don’t have days where I am frustrated with my work and wonder why I came here. But at the end of the day I can truly say that I made the right decision to come here and can’t wait to see what these two years will bring.
Aparna
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Celebrity
A few days back, after school had opened, I had gone to town to buy some groceries and take care of other things. I was standing in line at the bank when a random guy comes up to me and says, “’Me Neo!” I could swear I had never seen this guy before and I stood there in shock trying to understand how this random stranger knew my name and that he must be making some mistake. I don’t know how long I stood there dumb-founded but he kept repeating my name as if that would bring me more clarity. Eventually I came out of my trance and he proceeded to ask me for money. I convinced him that I didn’t have any and he went away.
Later that day I took a taxi back to my village stop and was waiting for my ride back to the village to leave. I was waiting with some other women, all who knew exactly who I was. They started by asking me questions which eventually lead to them talking about me as I stood there trying to catch bits and pieces of their conversation. Some men that I had never seen before joined us just as we were about to leave. One of the women from earlier was a younger girl probably around my age or younger. As the men began to question who I was she excitedly answered their questions about me. Finally one of the men asked me, “Do you have a husband?” Now I am very familiar with this question and with much expertise and to the girl’s surprise I replied, “Ha ke na monna;” no, I do not have a husband. The men laughed as one leaned forward and said, “Ha ke na mosali;” I don’t have a wife. But this story is going in to a whole ‘nother topic.
The point of this story is that I get a lot of attention. In general, I stand out. People in the village usually know who I am and to everyone else I’m a curiosity. The funny thing is that there are a lot of Indians in Lesotho. I did not know this coming to Lesotho until I was talking to a ‘Me in my training village. She asked me where I was from (a common question from many Basotho), and I replied that I am from America. She gave me a suspicious look (a common response from many Basotho) and I explained that my parents are from India. Now satisfied with my answer she replied that there were many Indians in Lesotho. I was surprised not only that she knew what Indians were (Most Basotho don’t really have much knowledge of the world outside South Africa) and that they would be in Lesotho. But low and behold, Lesotho is crawling with Indians. Would it surprise you that all the electronic stores and internet cafes in town tend to be owned by them?
But while this factor may seem to cause me to blend in, for the most part is does not. First of all I usually see Indian men around town; the women I have seen are in burquas or salwar kameez. Secondly I see very few of them interacting with Basotho the way I do. I greet the Basotho I have personal interactions with such as the Ntate behind the parcel counter in the grocery store or the ‘Me I always buy my apples from or the Ausi behind the counter at PEP. When I first met these people they asked me where I was living (I assume because I did not interact with them like other Indians) and I replied “Qhalasi” and that I was a teacher there. And since then they always inquire how Qhalasi is and how teaching is going. Thirdly, I don’t think most Indians live in villages, especially ones like Qhalasi. People who live in town consider Qhalsi rural for it is far from the main road. Most people from town would not choose to live there.
In general the Basotho seem to have a positive opinion about Indians. People have told me that Indians are the, “most beautiful of the whites,” that we “make great roti,” and that the schools that have good science and math scores have Indian teachers. And making friends with the store-owning Indians has its perks from discounts to free food (haven’t experienced the last one just yet but I’m crossing my fingers). I should note that other races are not looked upon as favorably. Basotho tend to have a bad opinion of the Chinese because of the abundant businesses they have in Lesotho and that they don’t speak Sesotho or English (I have actually seen some Chinese shop owners speaking Sesotho to their Basotho colleagues). Nigerians and other Africans from other countries are also not looked upon very highly since they take local jobs. But I digress…
The truth is that I get a lot of special treatment for being different. In the village I always get offered the front seat of the car no matter how old another ‘Me may be. In the taxi rank (where taxis wait for passengers) the taxi drivers, assuming I don’t know where I’m going, always check my destination so that they can lead me to the right taxi. When I ask for help people go completely out of their way to help me even for simple requests. Where ever I go I get a lot of attention, good and bad. People know me, they recognize me whether I know them or not. It can be fun sometimes. People randomly stop me, ask my name, and then tell me that they want to be friends. But it can also be a pain in the ass on days you just want to mind your own business and get back home. It’s part of everyday life and I am slowly getting used to it. So here’s to me, the biggest celebrity Qhalsi has had (since the last volunteer anyways).
Later that day I took a taxi back to my village stop and was waiting for my ride back to the village to leave. I was waiting with some other women, all who knew exactly who I was. They started by asking me questions which eventually lead to them talking about me as I stood there trying to catch bits and pieces of their conversation. Some men that I had never seen before joined us just as we were about to leave. One of the women from earlier was a younger girl probably around my age or younger. As the men began to question who I was she excitedly answered their questions about me. Finally one of the men asked me, “Do you have a husband?” Now I am very familiar with this question and with much expertise and to the girl’s surprise I replied, “Ha ke na monna;” no, I do not have a husband. The men laughed as one leaned forward and said, “Ha ke na mosali;” I don’t have a wife. But this story is going in to a whole ‘nother topic.
The point of this story is that I get a lot of attention. In general, I stand out. People in the village usually know who I am and to everyone else I’m a curiosity. The funny thing is that there are a lot of Indians in Lesotho. I did not know this coming to Lesotho until I was talking to a ‘Me in my training village. She asked me where I was from (a common question from many Basotho), and I replied that I am from America. She gave me a suspicious look (a common response from many Basotho) and I explained that my parents are from India. Now satisfied with my answer she replied that there were many Indians in Lesotho. I was surprised not only that she knew what Indians were (Most Basotho don’t really have much knowledge of the world outside South Africa) and that they would be in Lesotho. But low and behold, Lesotho is crawling with Indians. Would it surprise you that all the electronic stores and internet cafes in town tend to be owned by them?
But while this factor may seem to cause me to blend in, for the most part is does not. First of all I usually see Indian men around town; the women I have seen are in burquas or salwar kameez. Secondly I see very few of them interacting with Basotho the way I do. I greet the Basotho I have personal interactions with such as the Ntate behind the parcel counter in the grocery store or the ‘Me I always buy my apples from or the Ausi behind the counter at PEP. When I first met these people they asked me where I was living (I assume because I did not interact with them like other Indians) and I replied “Qhalasi” and that I was a teacher there. And since then they always inquire how Qhalasi is and how teaching is going. Thirdly, I don’t think most Indians live in villages, especially ones like Qhalasi. People who live in town consider Qhalsi rural for it is far from the main road. Most people from town would not choose to live there.
In general the Basotho seem to have a positive opinion about Indians. People have told me that Indians are the, “most beautiful of the whites,” that we “make great roti,” and that the schools that have good science and math scores have Indian teachers. And making friends with the store-owning Indians has its perks from discounts to free food (haven’t experienced the last one just yet but I’m crossing my fingers). I should note that other races are not looked upon as favorably. Basotho tend to have a bad opinion of the Chinese because of the abundant businesses they have in Lesotho and that they don’t speak Sesotho or English (I have actually seen some Chinese shop owners speaking Sesotho to their Basotho colleagues). Nigerians and other Africans from other countries are also not looked upon very highly since they take local jobs. But I digress…
The truth is that I get a lot of special treatment for being different. In the village I always get offered the front seat of the car no matter how old another ‘Me may be. In the taxi rank (where taxis wait for passengers) the taxi drivers, assuming I don’t know where I’m going, always check my destination so that they can lead me to the right taxi. When I ask for help people go completely out of their way to help me even for simple requests. Where ever I go I get a lot of attention, good and bad. People know me, they recognize me whether I know them or not. It can be fun sometimes. People randomly stop me, ask my name, and then tell me that they want to be friends. But it can also be a pain in the ass on days you just want to mind your own business and get back home. It’s part of everyday life and I am slowly getting used to it. So here’s to me, the biggest celebrity Qhalsi has had (since the last volunteer anyways).
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