Hey, Teacher, leave them kids alone

Questions from Christiane, a friend from Yadong’s biomaterials research lab that I used to work in…

How is the education system there?
Is it public and/or do most people go to school?

Also, what do they think of the diversity of Americans, i.e. different ethnic groups in one country with different culture but at the same time all "American"?

Good news -- Celimphilo (my 8-year old sisi) just got her new teacher for Standard 2 (that’s British system for the fourth grade). Especially good, since we are already Week 3 into the first school term (summer vacation ended in January). While I’m sure the students enjoyed their freedom, it doesn’t reflect very well on the education system at all. From what the students tell me, it’s old-school British-style education. While Swaziland’s former colonial masters have reformed their education system, Swaziland has not seemed to change much.

Even in secondary school, it sounds like there isn’t too much focus on critical thinking – it’s mostly rote memorization. They study European history, African history, “maths”, English, siSwati, Religious Education (RE), Social Studies, Science. In RE, they learn about things like the plight of the blind in Swaziland, HIV and AIDS, Jesus Christ, and encouraging little jingles like, “I want to be a nurse, a nurse. I want to be a nurse, and care for the king. I want to be a chef, a chef. I want to be a chef, and cook for the king.” In Social Studies, the countries they learn about are a select few: England, Canada, Japan, United States, and Republic of China (Taiwan) -- all the major donor countries to Swaziland. That is, they are supposed to learn about all these countries. One teacher in my community told me that he considers himself lucky if he can just get through Swaziland, England, and maybe the U.S. These are the troubled rural schools, however. In the big cities (Manzini and Mbabane) it is supposedly better. There is an expensive school for children of expats and the rich that they say is pretty good, in the capitol.

Education is supported by the Ministry of Education, and the teachers are paid by the government. Still, all the children must pay school fees, with the costs rising as the children get older. It costs around 350 Rand (US$50) a trimester for primary school – a pretty significant sum around these parts. (Just today, a Rural Health Motivator begged me to find a way to send her youngest child (of five) to school. Her husband has TB, and all the other children are primary school age too. I could only listen to her helplessly, take her name, and sequentially recommend that she talk to the umphakatsi, Ministry of Social Welfare, or the inkundla, even though I know full well that these institutions that are supposed to help their people will not do so.)

The Swazi government, with help from NGOs, promises to pay for free primary education for all double orphans and some support for single orphans. This is happening in my community, but not for everybody.

96% of the school-age kids in my area are in school. In this still predominantly agricultural society, around 40% of the adults have not made it past primary school. Going to university is rare, but I’ve met a few people with university degrees. Free universal education is talked about by politicians, but there are many “leaks” in the system that makes this difficult.

If you finish secondary school (Form 5), you can go on to take the ‘O’-level examinations. If you make really good marks, you can get a scholarship from the government. They hand out maybe one of these every year. I saw in the paper that the Taiwanese government is offering scholarships for students to study in Taiwan, however – part of its quest for international recognition. From my homestead census, whether one graduates from secondary school has little bearing on employment – there just aren’t that many jobs that require a secondary school education. You can get a job in the bloated government sector if you have connections though. If students ask me for advice, I try to tell them to study hard and try to get into a university in South Africa, where the job prospects will be better when they finish school.

Most of the teachers, and the secondary school students who want to become teachers, that I’ve talked to don’t pursue this career because they like to teach. It sounds like they’re doing it because it’s one of the few opportunities for employment – and it shows. Anecdotally, there is high absenteeism. It is a high-paying job relative to this area. All the qualification you need is to have graduated from secondary school. They aren’t allowed to beat their students anymore – only the headmaster is supposed to– but I think it still goes on. The teachers used to carry their sticks into class.

So in the back of my mind, I’m a bit worried for Celimphilo. She is pretty smart, but not too focused (as most little kids are. Her English is much better than most kids her age; I think that’s partly because she talks so much.) There’s an education system, which her family can afford to put her through, but it doesn’t seem that great. There’s more incentive now than before to finish high school, but still not much. She was born into a culture and environment that doesn’t set too much store in schooling – the “Second National Multisectoral HIV and AIDS Strategic Plan 2006-2008” published by the Kingdom of Swaziland even states as part of a HIV and AIDS “strategic issue” that “the people of Swaziland are not a reading population”. I think most parents feel they should probably send their kids to school for a better life, but I don’t think they are in much of a position to do anything about the quality of education.

Celimphilo likes to read out loud, so sometimes she makes me read her siSwati textbook with her after dinner. It’s a good way for me to improve my siSwati. Then, sometimes I help her get through the headlines and the adverts of the Economist magazine. When we get to a non-black face in the media photographs, sometimes she’ll laugh and joke, “It’s YOU, that one.” One time, she pointed to George W. Bush. And during the North Korean nuclear crisis, to Kim Jong Il. Then I’ll flip to the “Middle East and Africa” section, point to an African face, usually some angry gun-toting militiaman, and retort, “it’s YOU, this one”. And she’ll laugh and say, “But MEEE, I am not a MAN!” I’ve already explained to her that Americans usually differentiate between white and Asian, but she doesn’t really care all that much. She really likes this game. I am amused because she has no use for political correctness.

Fans of political correctness would be floored by some of the things Swazis have said to me, particularly about where I’m from. Also, bewilderingly, they often seem to get America and England confused. Sometimes China/Japan/Korea is even thrown into that confused mix as one of the forces of “Westernization” that is purportedly ruining their traditional ways. I suppose Asia is Western, depending on how far West you go. Trying to explain that there’s also a difference in the Latin American ethnicity would just be too subtle. Maybe I can make inroads when my sisi is singing Spanish -- “Dame mas gasolina”, from that Daddy Yankee song that’s become a popular cell phone network commercial.

But they usually understand why I “look Asian” while I claim to be from America, when I compare the U.S. to South Africa. For those of you who know as much about South Africa as I did when I got off the plane in Jozi last June, South Africa is what they call “multicultural,” even though racist tensions still seems to simmer beneath their exit from the apartheid years. Call me crazy, but I think I can sense some overcompensation in TV adverts that always conspicuously has the African as the voice of reason, or the clever one, while the white character does silly things or is made to look foolish. It bothers me slightly, in a weird way like affirmative action or BEE (Black Economic Empowerment), the business initiative that gives preference to the black community. I mean, I understand that apartheid set the African community back, but it doesn’t have to mean giving up one set of unequal and unfair preferences for another. You know what they say about two wrongs… Anyway, about those TV ads – the Asians get do get represented in one of them as – who would have thought – a kung fu master. It’s stuff like that which makes Swazis want to stop me in the street during my morning jog and ask me if I know how to block a low kick. I’ve decided to start taking it as a compliment. Plus, maybe people are afraid to mess with me now because of the powers I don’t actually have.

Way back when, the English pushed out the Boers (the people of Dutch ancestry who had pushed out the herding African tribes). At some point the English shipped in Indians from their other colony to do menial work. Asians came in to do business (China is now Africa’s largest trading partner). There’s more but the point is that Africa is diverse like America, although through a different manner. It helps Swazis relate.

Besides knowing a bit about South Africa (which is around a three to four hour drive, tops, from the center of the country), many Swazis seem very inward-looking. Maybe the mountains have something to do with it, keeping everything in. Maybe it’s the sense of helplessness, and all they have to hold on to is their tradition.

Ok, that’s another very rambly answer. I keep promising that the next entry will be a little more organized but it’s so easy to go off on tangents. Like the meeting last week when we were designing a curriculum for the Anglican Church/Peace Corps Partnership. All of a sudden we were talking about to what extent healthcare is a right or a privilege, and then all the things that were wrong with foreign aid for Africa, Paul Farmer and Haiti, male circumcision, and who knows what else. Too often I’m getting into these discussions that have no real conclusion. See, here’s another tangent.

In any case, I haven’t grown cynical, but more realistic. If anything, I think I’ve gotten more optimistic about aid for Africa, be it Bono, Bill Gates, or Bush. Even Oprah. Even Madonna and Angelina Jolie. That doesn’t mean I don’t still think it’s a big mess laced with too much empty, ambiguous jargon not backed up with actual commitment (including words like “commitment”), unstated political motives of both recipient and donor, and uncoordinated/ineffective strategy – and that’s only the fight against HIV and AIDS.

Is it February Already?

Yesterday I manned a "HIV Information Desk" all day at the bus rank. I wasn't sure how effective it would be, but the bus rank gets pretty good traffic. I figured an Asian kid sitting amongst a sea of Africans might pique some curiosities in this corner of rural Swaziland -- and it did. They thought I was selling something, at first. By the end of the day, I had given away most of the male and female condoms and all the brochures. I learned a couple things:

1) many older swazi men think they don't need to use condoms, and emphatically so. Older people asking for condoms wasn't as off-putting as I might have once thought -- the ones who did, i was just like, more power to ya. In this culture, elders are respected (traditionally, anyway), and how they act carries a lot of weight.

2) the female condoms were popular. This is solid because the main prevention method used to be male-initiated only. Female condoms give women more control over their sex lives, which is especially helpful in places where women do not have equal status. Scientists have also been trying to develop microbicides that should help sidestep this gender inequality. Unfortunately, I just read an article saying that some major microbicide trials had recently failed. I really hope they keep trying with them though. Sometimes the technology is there (male condoms), but, despite scientific success, the existing socioeconomic structure and behavior norms makes it a real-life failure.

I just wish my siSwati was better so that I could properly explain how to use the female condoms. The older folks don't have such a good handle on English because they didn't get much in school, I guess. It worked out sometimes though because I'd be tripping all over my words so the Swazis waiting for transport next to me would take charge and do the teaching. I also have a superb healthcare book that's in siSwati. It is big on clear illustrations and simple explanations aimed at a semi-literate crowd -- just what I had been looking for. Some Swazi dude gave it to me in a bar last week. He said I should have it instead, because he was just reading for personal knowledge, but I would be "reaching the masses". I'm hardly that charismatic. Yikes, there are a lot of weird parallels between HIV Education and missionary work. If only we could be as successful as the missionaries were - there are over 10 churches that serve my community! Evangelistic Christianity is highly popular here -- I just joined a committee of PCVs to work on ways to work with the religious leadership to help their congregations deal with the disease. What's the pope's stance on condoms nowadays, anyway?

3) people still believe the Americans invented HIV to "control the African population and take their resources". It's a pervasive belief, often whispered only in confidential tones or in moments of drunken candor. One guy angrily thrust his finger at the condoms, proclaiming that "These! These spread HIV!" and then stormed off. Some Swazis believe the condoms are made with HIV to further spread the disease. I don't think the media addresses this aspect of the epidemic very much, but I think it's important. It colors what the Peace Corps and other foreign NGOs are doing here and our motivations. But it's not all dark suspicions - other Swazis have been saying to me, "Bless you... thank you..." It was a slightly embarrassing, but it makes being here more rewarding because it's often difficult to see how us being here is going to change anything. Maybe it will, maybe it won't -- but feeling appreciated is nice. Still, even the hostility isn't that bad when viewed in a certain light. At least they are being honest, especially in a culture where what you feel about injustice and oppression is supposed to be bottled up. Thus, I don't really mind if they are expressing these candid opinions to a foreigner. It's the source and sustainability of these rumors that I'm worried about.

I'm going to try to do this "HIV Information Table" maybe on a weekly or bi-weekly basis. Too much, and I would just become like a lot of other anti-HIV marketing-- background noise. I gotta find the right balance of staying "novel" enough yet, at the same time, consistent. Is that too contradictory?

So I'm just killing time in Manzini right now, waiting for Mar. She had planned our February trip to Mocambique for a group of us and her sister, and now I have to leave early if not cancel. I have to meet the Rural Health Motivators to update them about the trench garden workshops for the Neighborhood Care Points (NCPs). The three NCPs around here have just started operating to feed the orphans, so it'd be nice to get the gardens going early on before the NCPs settle into their routines. Maybe I'll be forgiven if I buy her lunch. I bet she's gonna be real happy when I tell her that I can't make it to the the embassy Monday to do visas as I had promised. There's an AIDS Support Group in my area that is having their workshop all next week, and Fenny had extended a personal invitation to me.

It's not that I want to ditch my PC friends, but it's just that I want to be at site when things are just getting off the ground. So far, this work has been pretty easy -- it's kinda like elementary school Physical Education class-- you just have to show up, most of the time. I ought to be able to manage that for my community. All the same, I know it's a pretty crappy feeling to have made plans with people and then they back out. The lesson is, I shouldn't make any plans. Can my RSVP to everything from now on be a "Maybe"?

In other news, I heard from Brendan yesterday that Jenny might be coming back to site. I'm crushed for her loss but will be happy to have my neighbor back.