Yesterday I went on the morning route without Abby. The baby at home is requiring everyone to pitch in a bit extra. It’s funny—being at a school in a different country exposes many of the differences between the US education system and here, but every once in a while something like waiting for a bus to pick me up will bring back a flood of memories from my time in high school, middle or even elementary school.
At school there were more exams all day, so I was stuck marking again. It takes a lot of will power to sit still for hours on end, comparing one letter to another, then adding up every check you see on the page. Unfortunately I will be doing the same thing today, missing music and maybe missing out on sports and games.
During one of the periods between exams there was an all-staff meeting. It was in Swahili and I was told to wait outside and manage the kids to make sure they were ready for their next test. When Pius told me this, I genuinely laughed because there are 800 kids and half of them were in the hallways running around and screaming; the other half were like little monkey climbing all over the classroom desks and chairs. The meeting took awhile and after 5 minutes of hopeless wandering among chaotic kids I decided to go back to marking.
The day ended early again; no remedial due to the exams. And luckily, we didn’t have any bus fiasco yesterday. I got home around 5:00 and was hoping to take a nap because I was feeling very hollow in the head from the mindless marking. To my unexpected relief I ended up helping out with washing some clothes and shoes; the physically intensive African style of clothes washing helped to perk me up and put me in a good mood. I’m not sure why—the washing machine was working—but I was told to wash the clothes by standing over a plastic basin of soapy water and vigorously rub the cloth of one clothing item against itself till dust and stains were gone. Then for the shoes; the same soapy basin but using a brush to get all the dirt out of the grooves. One interesting thing is that they wash their shoes as frequently as their clothing—pretty much every wear unless they still look sparkling clean.
After eating a delicious dinner around 8:30 I went to bed. We had chips (french fries) and bbq chicken. The chicken isn’t exactly the same as the bbq I’m used too, it’s a much chewier and less seasoned version, but it’s still delicious. The french fries are exactly what you’d expect.
This morning when I woke up I followed my normal routine. I jump right out of bed and flick on my main bedroom light; I hurry into the bathroom to brush my teeth; I stretched for a little while listening to some news; I got dressed and left to have breakfast before going to school. When I stepped outside, I was met with this horror. These little bugs are the official mark that rainy season has started. I’m not sure if they’re ants (they look like flying ants but behave like dumb locust-moth hybrids) but I’ve been told they come from “anthills”. When the true rain starts to fall—not just a sprinkle but an honest downpour—it floods the underground home of these insects and sends them flying into the sky. Like moths, they are drawn to light—in swarms. There were a couple that had gotten into my room while I was getting ready, and an intermittent one or two that trickled under my doorframe from outside, but I realized quickly they were coming toward the brightness, so I turned on a light outside, trying to distract them from invading my room. I’m hoping that they either die or migrate soon, because I don’t want to have to get ready in the dark every morning, but that’s what I’ll do if I have to.