Not only are the little ones jealous they don’t have worksheets, but now the older girls want work to do as well. Oh, how I took “learning” for granted growing up. I am making Halima, who is not even in school, write a one-page book report on a book I bought at Davis Kidd before I left Nashville. And Benah, who is doing math and science problems that I forgot the moment I left Chemistry and Trig, wants me to make English worksheets for her.
Thank you Jesus for the response of these children to my tutoring them. It makes me feel like I know what I’m doing as a psuedoteacher. One of the children, Bob, started to cry today as he didn’t understand the math problems I gave the P1 students. Moses had Ronald (unfairly) helping him, and the two girls were just talking so I took their papers away. After I finished with the nursery school students, Teddy and James, I went over to Bob. At first he was being very strong, then I noticed it.
The tears were welling up in his eyes and in a blink started streaming down his face. Oh man… I tried my best to tell him he was doing great and it’s ok, but he wouldn’t stop. So finally, after five minutes of telling him it’s ok, I just started working on a problem with him. Ten fingers, I’m really glad I have you. Bob wouldn’t look directly at me, so we were adding something that had a four and a five in it. I held up four fingers on one hand and five on the other.
“Bob, look at my hands.”
He made his eyes to my hands without looking at my face. “Count my fingers. Four and five is…?” Bob started to silently count as the tears slowly stopped.
“Nine,” he whispered.
“YES!!! Great job! NINE!!!” I replied. A small grin made its way to his lips as I pointed to the paper and told him to write it down. BREAKTHROUGH! It was easy sailing from there. The lesson with Bob ended with quite a bit of pride (for both involved parties) and a hi-five. Out of all the P1 students, Bob learned the most today.
I went to the UPA guest house tonight to meet the other volunteers there. It was nice. Not too much to say about it. When they have running water, they have a flushing toilet. Lucky bums. I rode a taxi home by myself at night. Big step. Not as scary as I thought.
Mom, tomorrow morning I’m having Moses (a Ugandan who is helping paint the orphanage) take me to the US Embassy in Kampala. Oh, insane city, I am not looking forward to our visit tomorrow.
BAH! Photo time!
I love you and I miss you, but it’s technically the morning after this entry was supposed to be posted and I need to go to the embassy.