Which continent, exactly?

This blog's title isn't in reference to actual continents (I've now been to four), but is rather drawn from "The Third and Final Continent," a stunning short story by Jhumpa Lahiri, from her collection, The Interpreter of Maladies. In particular, I'm inspired by the following quote that summarizes the attitude I try to carry with me through life and on my travels

I am not the only person to seek his fortune far from home, and certainly I am not the first. Still there are times I am bewildered by each mile I have traveled, each meal I have eaten, each person I have known, each room in which I have slept. As ordinary as it all appears, there are times when it is beyond my imagination.

I love this. It calls on us to consider the tiny details of our experiences, both one-by-one, and in the aggregate, and to maintain a sense of wonder even about the seemingly mundane things that are the building blocks of our lives, and often, the glue that binds us to our traveling companions.

This blog began as a chronicle of my study abroad experience in Cairo in Spring 2008, and continued last year while volunteering in Geneva, and South Sudan with a wonderful organization, VIDES.

Now in graduate school, I'm returning to the Continent this summer while interning in New Delhi, India.

Please enjoy, inquire, and learn.

Monday, May 13, 2013

"I want you to teach them to read"


This is my Task. Capital T intended.

Without telling them, my work here has actually been exactly what I am best-suited for.  I have been charged with working with those who are behind on English, especially some of those who have migrated from Khartoum and the rest of the Sudan, and up until now were studying in Arabic, and now have to start from square 1 in terms of reading, and a language that isn’t particularly predictable at that.  I love my native language, but from the eyes of a non-native speaker, it’s often ludicrous.  C is sometimes K and sometimes
S.  KN and GN make the same sound.   The vowels are all over the place. 

To add to the challenge, the education system here relies too much on call and repeat, on blind copying and memorization, and less on basic phonics (the above complaints notwithstanding, “sounding it out” is still the best way to learn English. I can still hear my mother in my head, saying over and over again “sound it out.”  And chiming in is my own voice, over and over again to my students.

To further add to the challenge, few of the tools/crutches I would like are at my disposal.  The primary book I’ve been using I only have a couple copies of, and I’ve found a few mistakes in it.  Printing worksheets is expensive. Audio-visual or interactive materials are out. . . the classroom doesn’t have electricity.  I have to rely on a chalkboard, one copy of the book, my patience, energy, and students’ seemingly inexhaustible desire to learn from me.  This latter one is my lifesaver.  I could never teach full-time, but seeing the lights go on in their heads and hearing some of their first coherent sentences in English is what is keeping me going, keeping me excited, which in turn helps to keep the learning fun for them.  I can also use Arabic when explaining a concept is just too circuitious or impossible to grasp, and am learning new Arabic words in the process even though I tell them I don't want to hear any Arabic.  It’s a pretty good gig and between working with students during the school day, finishing up with the library, and teaching for 2 hours in the evening, time is flying by.  I will be home and in graduate school before I know it.   

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Laura, I feel your passion and energy here. I am so happy that you feel valued. What a great way to use your Arabic. Mom and I are so happy for you, miss you but know you are doing great work!
Love you.
Dad