Copying is not learning.

I haven't really had time to write a blog this week due to being nice and busy. I have been continuing with my teaching at Gohechi and I have been trying to introduce new methods to the children and the teachers. Most of the teaching at Gohechi consists of the teacher reading from a book. Then writing exactly what it says in the book on the blackboard (sorry chalkboard) while the children copy it into their exercise books. I have observed two consequences of this teaching method. The first is that the children don't learn anything, demonstrated by a pointless recital exercise the teachers made class three do. They read it from their books then recited as a group by heart but when they were made to recite it individually they could not, even though they had said the exact sentence three times not five minutes before. The second is that they expect to be given every answer to every question. So for my lesson I wrote the topics on the board, discussed with the class the answers and asked them to explain them in their own words. Afterwards, I collected the books and only two students out of the fifteen consistently managed to formulate their own answers from the discussion. I want to try more of this teaching method so hopefully the teachers will begin using it themselves. One thing I must be wary of is attempting to impose my own method onto the local teachers rather than having them accept it as part of their own style. It would likely cause offence and would most likely be dropped as soon as I leave in two weeks anyway.

I have also been to a Swahili workshop at Projects Abroad this week. It was quite useful and a good chance to get to know some of the newer volunteers, and a good start to learning some Swahili. After, there was the social at Mama Leo's and a few of us went to Empire and Via Via. I booked a room at Arusha Backpackers for 14400 TSH, which is about £5.70. I'll need to do this every time I go out as I can not get into my house after 10:30pm. At Via Via I became reacquainted with Jägerbombs and I stumbled around back to the hostel, falling down a hole in the process. It was only after I passed out and came to in the morning that I learned that the female volunteer I was in Via Via with had been mugged at the bar, which sucks. I still feel quite bad about getting so drunk that I just left her alone there. Maybe I shall take it easy on Saturday.

The following morning, I felt rough. Really rough. That Friday was Dirty Friday and the Projects Abroad volunteers were heading to one of the orphanages/schools we are associated with so we could paint the walls a nice yellow rather than the prison grey that the children had previously had to look at. The journey there was horrible as was the first hour or two that I felt like retching at the mere thought of doing anything other than lying down. After lunch I recovered and helped muck in with the work. The end result was an impressive one with the courtyard looking distinctly brighter and more welcoming than before, although I got oil paint on my boots, shirts and shorts which won't come out. That sucks.