My first day

Well, I have done it. Getting through the first day is one of the hardest things about being a Foreign language teacher. You arrive - a little nervous - knowing you have to strike a rapport with the students, from the moment you enter the classroom. You also have to have authority too: so no arriving late to class, or mobile phone use in the classrooms. Rwanda may be a developing economy, but, judging by the amount of mobile phones available, and a huge billboard I saw for an Apple I Phone on the way to the school, you can really see that Rwandans have embraced mobile technology.

My teachers are English teachers to Primary Schools all over Rwanda. I have thirty five in my class, which makes it easier than last year, when I had over fifty. The Students are hungry to learn. Whilst most of them have a good grasp of English Grammar (probably better than mine), their vocabulary and pronounciation is much weaker. For some, even the alpahabet is a struggle, so I know I will have had some success if all my students are fluent at least in A to Z by the end of the programme.

The classroom is basic, two to a harsh wooden desk and a roof made of corrugated aluminium. Although the teaching is tough, it is very fulfilling and I left the school today thinking that a modest but competent start had been made.

There was an emotional moment, when we gave the Students all the dictionaries -donated by Longmans, along with biros and exercise books. Simple to us in England, but for the Teachers, these were items that will be treasured for many a year to come.

The school - called St Familles - where all the teachers arrive, is on a hill in Kigali. I was struck by how far many of the Students had to come. Some woke up at 0500 in order to walk 20 kilometre or so to arrive for their teacher training.

Right next to the school is a church of the same name. It was in this church that a horrendous massacre of hundreds of innocent Tutsis took place. They had fled to the church seeking safety but were handed over to the Interahamwe (the Hutu militia) by the priest of the Church - whom, after the 1994 genocide ended - was caught and imprisoned, where he remains to this day. The tragic story of this church was an illustration that the ravages of the genocide are constant reminders everywhere, even as the country makes every effort - successfully - to move forward.

Tomorrow I plan to teach the students about 'time' and I have brought some magazines about watches and clocks by the way of illustration. We are Also going to do an exercise as to what makes a good teacher. It should be another exciting day.

-- by Robert Halfon Post From My iPhone