Back to High School

Part of my PGCE requires that I have 'School-Based Experience'. This means I get to inflict myself on a High School for 3 weeks in April and 5 weeks in July/August.

The University gave me Supplies for my April Adventure:
1 x packet of white chalk
1 x chalkboard duster
1 x lever arch file for my Business Studies and Economics portfolios.  (I had to buy the second file)
20 x plastic sleeves (in case I don't have a hole punch for the lever arch file)
7 x sheets of A1 paper (in case the school has a flip chart)
1 x 650mm T-square (must be for drawings graphs on the board in Economics.  I tried. I gave up.)
3  x packets of pencil crayons. (I still can't work out why)

I had to bring my own red pen.

So at the start of the second term, I sat in the staff room of the local High School, feeling very conspicuous, being introduced as a 'mature student teacher'.  That feeling didn't last long though. I met the Business Studies and Economics teachers, who were both very welcoming and patient.  And willing to unleash me on their Grade 10s.

The blackboard in the staffroom added a touch of humanity to a room which has traditionally :been out of bounds to me:


1) TEMP COPIER in old copier room (where microwave is!) (Even School copiers break down)
2) Squash Results (19/4/2015 tournament) (Proud Coach)
3) Looking  for my apple and naartjie! (That food thief is everywhere)

The bell on the left is rung every morning, to announce the arrival of the Principal, and the start of the Staff Meeting

 One of the first things I noticed was that teachers are still saying the same things they said 30 years ago: "Where's your book? What's it doing at home?" "Why can I still hear talking?" And pupils are still saying the same things: "No Ma'am, it wasn't me." "Are you talking to me Ma'am?"

But a lot has also changed.  Apart from the fact that the schools don't offer subjects like Woodwork, Domestic Science and Metalwork any more, they now offer fancy new subjects like Business Studies, Economics, Life Skills, and Maths Literacy.  Except 'my' school doesn't offer Maths Literacy.  'Proper' Maths only.

Teaching aids have also changed.  Gone are the days of fancy overhead projectors with different coloured kokis to emphasise the important bits on transparencies..

And move over Data Projector - Hellooo Smartboard!

It felt like Christmas with a brand new toy.

Basically, an ET-style camera (the middle stalk thingy) reads from the page on the desk and displays the image on the PC monitor, at the same time as displaying the image on the Smartboard:

Old meets New:  The pull-down screen for the Overhead/Data Projector is still in place (at the top).  Don't you love that old intercom? Beneath it, the black strip is the speaker for the Smartboard, so that the class can watch educational Youtube clips.

Use your finger to point at something on the actual page, or use your PC mouse if you don't have a photogenic finger. Or even better, use your finger to write on the Smartboard. Whatever you write on the Smartboard is also displayed on the PC monitor.  How cool is that!

And no need for the intercom any more.  At the end of the day, in Register class, you login to the Intranet on the PC, and all the notices pop up on the Smartboard for everyone to see.

Unfortunately, the day my assessor was there, Eskom decided it was a good time for load-shedding.  So I had to abandon all my fancy plans and resort to chalk and talk.  Thanks Eskom.

During my three weeks, one of the classes did an assignment on devising an HIV/AIDS Workplace Programme. I was quite impressed when they were handed in.  Presentation is obviously important - cover sheets are required, and many of the assignments were typed.

There is a strong emphasis on academics, and many of the teachers give up their school holidays and weekends to give extra classes to help those who are falling behind.

Sport also plays a big role, with the teams travelling long distances to compete (East London is 220km away).  During my time at the school, one of the athletes was chosen to represent South Africa at a competition in December.  I felt so proud!

And of course you get the kids who are good at everything.  Imagine running our of space for your merit badges.

One of the topics we covered in Business Studies was Corporate Social Responsibility, which included Volunteerism. I asked if anyone had ever volunteered at an orphanage, animal shelter or old-age home. Only one put up his hand - he'd spent a few hours at an orphanage.  

The concept of an old-age home was unknown - traditionally, the aged are cared for by the community.  So the thought of someone being abandoned or surrendered to a home was totally foreign. They did not even know that Mthatha has such an institution. So I arranged an outing to Empilweni, an old-age home with 120 residents.

Well.  After a bit of hesitation (it's disrespectful to question your elders), the kids were chatting away to people with diverse backgrounds, histories and situations.  All with stories to tell.  One of the girls was moved to tears.

One of the more sprightly residents willingly entertained us with a delightful song and dance routine.  She is from Lusikisiki, and booked herself into Empilweni a few years ago, because she knew her family would not be able to look after her properly.

Now it's nearly the end of the term, and these kids are writing exams.  I wonder if the work I covered is in the papers, and if they remember anything at all about Production Possibility Curves and Contemporary Socio-Economic Issues?

I guess I'll find out next term when I get back in the ring for Round Two.

Thanks, Eskom

Language Competence class giving presentations in windowless lecture hall, despite load-shedding.

Doing Assignments Mthatha Style

This on-campus experience has really opened my eyes as to the passion people in this country have, in order to get an education.

Lectures have been cancelled three days this week because of power cuts. I spoke to two fellow students today. One travels from Port St Johns and the other travels from Mount Frere every day for lectures. That's a long way. And it's not cheap at R80 for the taxi each way. One is studying to teach Maths and Science. The other is studying to teach English and History. They are both incredibly accepting of the situation, as they are used to it. I would have flipped long ago.

Enough procrastination. Let me continue writing about 'Factors contributing to poor academic performance in Grade 12 for Economic and Management Science' (Please note, the wine is compulsory for this kind of essay)

Back to School . . . I'm in!

I am now officially a PGCE student, and have the student card to prove it.  Below please find the hoop-jumping process to achieve this:

Monday

Hoop 1:  Postgraduate registration opens.  To avoid the early morning rush of last time, I arrive at 11am, and go to the Registration Office to pick up my Admission Form (Form A).

Form A. I'm glad I'm not a Mr

Hoop 2: However, I cannot pay the required deposit, as Mthatha has had a power cut for 24 hours, and even my cellphone battery is flat.  So I make a plan,and return at 2.30pm, with proof of payment in hand.

Hoop 3:  The Registration Office says I'm in the wrong place, and says I must go to the Registration HALL.
Me: The same place as last time?
Them: No.  This time it's in the Chumani Dining Hall.
Me: Where's that?
Them: (Pause) Just wait.(Animated conversation in Xhosa with everyone in the open plan office). Here, she will show you where to go.
Me:  Thank you (Aware that this is the third time I've had my own personal guide)

I would never have found it. It's attached to one of the residences.

\

Seven terminals this time, up five from last time.  Only two operators though - each one performing a different function. It feels like I'm applying for my Driver's Licence all over again

Hoop 4:   I'm quite relieved - there are only 24 people in front of me.

But I've left my book at home, and the only thing I can find to read is the package insert for the homeopathic wart remedy I bought that morning.

Bad idea.

Ingredients:  Anagallis arvensis acts on the skin to treat severe wart outbreaks, groups of vesicles on hands and fingers with severe itch. (My wart is on my shin.  How will this stuff know that?) 

Hydrastis canadensis acts on the skin to relieve irregular growths accompanied by profuse perspiration and generally unhealthy skin (I can't remember when last my shin perspired).

Thuja occidentalis (sounds like something out of Harry Potter)

Castor equi is indicated for skin thickening and warts on the forehead and breasts. (WHAT?)

Fortunately, by this time I had reached the front of the queue, and was spared any further reading.  I hand in form A, and get given Form B, with a stamp confirming that I have paid my deposit.

Form B

Hoop 5: I have to wait in another queue in the same hall, so that I can hand Form B in to the second person in the row of 7 terminals, who will capture the data on Form B, and print out Form C. I ask what I have to do next, and get told that I have to get my curriculum approved, then go back to registration.

Hoop 6:  I take Form C to the Very Nice Man from my first visit. (Basically all I have to do is mark on Form C which two of Business Studies, Economics or Life Orientation I wish to teach when I graduate).

The office where the candidates for the PGCE are chosen and announced.  The list of names is on the piece of paper on the window at the top of the door.  I'm not sure why the notice boards on either side of the door were unsuitable.

Hoop 7:  I take Form B and Form C to the Faculty Office to get the stamp saying that my curriculum has been approved.  Problem is, it's 4.35pm, and everyone has gone home.  Oh well, I'll just have to come back tomorrow.

As I make my way back to the car, I start to take note of my surroundings.

A sight I'll have to get used to - abandoned braids.

The notice boards are full of pleas like this one.  Not a drawing pin in sight - the stapler seems to be the weapon of choice.

Rugby is the only extra-mural activity that seems to have got its A into G.  Well, for the most part.

Tuesday

Hoop 7 (continued):  I arrive at the Faculty Office at 1.30pm.  Closed. Now why did I think they would be open during the lunch hour?  At least I've remembered to bring my book this time (Girl with a Pearl Earring). At 2.15pm, there are quite a few students standing and waiting (there seems to be a lot of this all over), and eventually a woman comes up to us, and says she can't help us, we must come back another time.  I say, "All I need is the stamp approving my curriculum, where must I go?" She tells me to come with her, adorns my form with said stamps and gives them back to me.

So off I go to Registration.

Hoop 8:  As I sit down in the only queue in the Registration Hall, a security guard approaches me, and asks what I need.  I tell her that I was sent here.  She looks at my documents, and says, no, this queue is for student cards only. I must go to the Registration OFFICE. 

After a 15-minute wait in that queue: 

Hoop 9: 

Them: I don't know why they keep sending everyone here.  You're supposed to go to Faculty Office

Me:  But I've just come from there.  Look, I've got my stamp.

Them:  But where's your Proof of Registration?

Me:  Here - my form, it's got a stamp

Them:  No, they were supposed to give you another form

Me:  The same people who stamped my form?

Them: Yes

Me: Then why didn't they give it to me when they stamped my form?

Them:  I don't know.

Hoop 10: Back at the Faculty Office. More students standing around and waiting, with no apparent queuing system.  Eventually a woman comes down the passage, takes all our forms, and leaves without a word.

Two minutes later she comes back:

Woman: The machine is broken, you must come back tomorrow.

Me: NO! FORGET IT! (The seemingly infinite well of patience has now run dry. All the other students scatter).  THIS IS MY SECOND DAY HERE AND I'M NOT COMING BACK TOMORROW (Yes, I was shouting)

Woman: Okay, come with me...

I follow her down the passage into an office where a young lady explains to me that the printer is not working properly, but she will do her best to help me. I must wait. It will take about 10 or 20 minutes. Fine, I said, I'll wait here.  No, she says, please wait in the passage.  So I go and stand where she can see me through the door.  She closes the door.  The only thing there is for me to look at is this poster:

I have two problems with this poster.  1)  Why is it still up, if the conference was three years ago? 2) How did the Department of Education manage to organise an extra day in September 2011?

Eventually I get Form D, and the woman tells me to go to get my student card,  Ha!  I know where to go!

Hoop 11:  This was the most painless procedure of all.  There were two guys - one taking the photo, and the other one printing the card.  It was great watching the students get all self-conscious as they looked into the lens.

By now, it's 3.30pm, and time for the Orientation Lecture. YAY, my first ever on-campus lecture!  Apart from the normal stuff about dates and times, we are told that the Faculty's means of communication is via the notice boards.  As students are still registering, no timetables are available.  Lectures were supposed to start last week, but because of the demonstrations, everything is delayed.  The best way to establish when classes are, is for the students to speak to the lecturers directly, and negotiate the best time.  Yes, I'm serious. And the only way to find out when lectures are, and if there are changes, is to come onto campus and check the notice boards every day. I'm still being serious.

We had to finish up by 4.30pm because we were due to have our first Real Lecture at 4.30pm.  But at 4pm, the lecturer phoned in to cancel the lecture.  Sigh.

Anyway, those of us at Orientation swapped details, including subject choices (to facilitate setting up study groups).  I am delighted that of the 17 students present, five are studying to teach Maths, and six are studying to teach Physical Science.  It makes my heart sing that in some small way our class will help fill a very big gap in our High School education system.

Downtime

In Mthatha, Downtime is a regular occurrence - no power and no water.  We even have a 5000 litre JoJo tank in our garden, as do the schools and  many residents. 

But sometimes Downtime is a good thing.  Especially when it means Down at the Beach.

A few weeks ago, Bob was called to meetings in Port Elizabeth and East London.  He suggested that instead of staying at guest houses by himself, we (dogs included) should join him and make the trek to the seaside for a looong weekend.  Excellent idea!

So off I go to stock up on essentials. As I leave the bottle store, the chap helping me take my purchases to the car asks me if I own a B&B.  I tell him no, I don't.  "Does ma'am own a restaurant then?" 

Then I realise why he's asking.  The trolley he's pushing for me contains 1 case Hansa, 1 case Savanna, 1 box red wine, and 4 bottles Old Brown Sherry (just in case we needed to ward off a cold front).  To me, this is a perfectly reasonable amount of refreshment for a four-day weekend for two, with a bit left over in case of visitors.  Apparently this is not the case in Mthatha.

As the weekdays away were business for Bob, he was allowed to use company transport.  As I clambered aboard, my olfactory nerves were assaulted to the extent that my nose hairs were singed.  We had to endure five hours of Stale while we drove.  Stale cigarette smoke. Stale sweat. Stale junk food. Stale farts.

And it didn't end there.  On arrival at the shack, we discovered that a bushbuck ram had died in our back garden a few weeks before. The neighbours had wondered for several days about the dreadful smell, and eventually discovered the carcass in our garden. The degree of putrefaction was such that the date and cause of death could not be determined, but the length of the horns indicated that the buck was about 8 years old.

When we thanked them for removing the remains, they said there was no need - they removed it purely because they couldn't live with the smell themselves.

The spot where the bushbuck ram was found. 

 Fortunately that was the end of the bad smells, and the Downtime continued as it should - lots of reading, eating, sleeping, walking on the beach, laughing, playing games and chatting to neighbours, friends and family.

(In case you were wondering, the four bottles of OBs returned to Mthatha intact.  Unfortunately the same cannot be said about the rest of the provisions.)

Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!*

On Friday, all of the mountain passes in the Eastern Cape were closed because of snowfalls.

After a 3-hour power cut on Friday and another one on Saturday morning (Eskom must have seen my previous post), we were ready to head for the hills...

En route via Maclear, we passed a familiar sight.  Wherever there is a river or stream, you will find people washing their vehicles.

As we headed further inland we encountered a herd of cows, with herder, out for an early morning jog

Spring is in the air!  Lots of little lambs frolicking in the fields - and on the road.

Good to see some corporate social responsibility.  Many power lines in the area are adorned with dingle-dangles like the one in the top right of the notice. We saw a field with about 20 Crowned Cranes later in the afternoon.  Awesome sight.  Unfortunately, by then the light was too bad to take a pic.

There are of plenty of pine plantations in the area.  Brilliant idea for otherwise unusable land.  Good to see some four-footed creatures other than sheep, goats, cows, donkeys and stray dogs.  These Mountain Reedbuck** stayed around for a while before rushing off, tails in the air

One of the advantages of driving in a mountainous area is that you can come eye to eye with a Jackal Buzzard**.  This one  doesn't look like he agrees with the sentiment though.

Oops.  We thought we would be driving on tar the whole way. Those horizontal gashes on the mountain?  That's the road.  The snow looks like an elaborate Danish pastry with icing sugar sprinkles.

We came across this little memorial a few kilometres from the top.  I'd love to know its history.

Made it!  Okay, it's not a very glamorous snowman. And his nose kept falling off.  But I made him, and he's mine.  Until he melts.

Off we go, down the other side of the mountain.  Who made these hundreds of kilometres of roads and why? How long did it take, who decided where they should be and who maintains them? 

 I must confess to doing a bit of yodelling while up here (much to the distress of Bob and the dogs [who were not impressed with the snow either])

When we reached Rhodes at the bottom of the mountain, we were famished.  It was 4pm, and all we wanted was tea and scones.  No luck anywhere.  No café, no restaurant, no service station. Nothing. Nada.  Rhodes is back in cotton wool after last month's Rhodes Run.  Makes me wonder how the village copes with 300 ravenous runners.

Loving this landscape!  The area around Rhodes is full of Weeping Willows**.  I haven't seen any Willows anywhere else, not even in gardens.  Come to think of it, when last did you see a Weeping Willow?

Some of the farms had fence posts made from dressed stone.  The mind boggles at the time and effort to create these. And why is good old wood not good enough?

When Bob and I go on an adventure, we do it Properly.  Including a puncture in the middle of nowhere. A white bakkie (that one in the distance) stopped to help us, but fortunately Bob had all the necessary bits in Hagrid (yes, we name our cars), so we survived.

A flock of sheep watched Bob change the tyre.  They were very vocal in their observation.  I had no idea sheep talked so much!  Some of the bleating  was quite comical, sounding much like a hearty burp after a good meal.

Ken*** (the GPS) had given up the ghost a few hours previously, as the fuse in the lighter socket had blown, and then the GPS battery went flat.  In true adventurer style, we hadn't brought a paper map backup, but eventually we reached Barkly East.  We got sustenance for the rest of the trip from a service station, and headed for home...

Charming.  Just what we need at dusk, with 90km to go.  We're still debating what is more dangerous in the dark - mobile livestock or stationary potholes.

Conclusion:  Even though an 'easy-peasy' 470km round trip turned into a 9-hour all day epic trek, we're still totally enamoured with the Eastern Cape - its people, its landscape, and everything that goes with it.

Except for the potholes.

* Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!

**If you disagree with my identification, please feel free to say so

***Ken - want hy weet alles

Nando's to the Rescue!

When power cuts are a regular reality, Nando's to the rescue.  (Circus Triangle is the name of a shopping centre in Mthatha)

Monday morning coffee in Mthatha

Power cut since 6.30am.