5’o Clock……African Time

On the Volleyball Court

About half of our group has started playing volleyball in the village almost every night. It’s really fun and gives us a chance to connect with the local people. As I mentioned before, sports has an incredible way of bringing people together. We were told that volleyball begins at 5pm every day, but we quickly discovered that this is 5’o clock African time which really means 5:45 to 6pm. It’s like everyone knows what meeting at 5pm really means. Now that we know, we all leave the house around 5:30 and don’t think twice about being late. Playing volleyball here has been something we all extremely enjoy. Some people even go just to get out of the house and just watch. It helps us create a special bond with the people.  A bond that even language cannot break. It’s that smile that says “I get you, and you get me.We are all just human.” I look for that smile in each place I travel to.

I had kind of a sour morning Thursday, I was teaching an English lesson to my students and the teacher left the room as he usually does. Two boys in my class were talking back and forth in Rutooro (their local language), then it started to become argumentative in tone. They started shoving each other and eventually throwing punches. I tried to break them up and remove one from the room but he refused. I am no teacher and wasn’t given a manual on how to handle the situation. I turned my back and they began again. I went to get the teacher and he removed to boys from the room and dealt with them. The rest of the morning was spent talking about why fighting was bad. I talked to the class as well and they were all very apologetic. Afterward, the day became better and we finished on a much better note. Now even though we had the morning altercation, these are such great kids and I have no clue why the fight even started. I wasn’t too surprised because I have seen many fights in American schools, but I have never seen American children like this.

The students here have incredibly unfortunate stories. Many have been forced to grow up much quicker than nature intended. Yet despite all the hardships they’ve experienced, they are so grateful for what they have and thank God every day for giving them the little that they have. It’s hard to even get upset with them because I know that they have experienced so much that no child should have to go through. I certainly have a new respect for teachers, they work so hard. My teacher tells me I’m doing a good job which is nice because it’s sometimes hard to tell with kids. It seems like as soon as you get the attention of 5 students, another 5 students start getting distracted by something else. And in a small classroom filled with 20 students and limited benches and resources, it’s easy to get distracted. When 4 students have to share one book, at least one is bound to not be able to see and give up trying.

Students at the school.

My Sun hat is a hit! This is Tracy, she's in the Nursery class

My class!



My class continued! Easy to see how I blend in haha.

I brought my “Nicole’s Life” photo album to school one day. I thought it would help to explain where I come from and more specifically explain that Black Americans truly exist, are of different shades, and most aren’t even second generation Africans, but have been in America for generations. I thought I was making progress, but the conclusion of many of the teachers and students was that my parents and friends all look African and we must be! I just gave up haha.

Me being attacked with my picture album.

It’s not that I was trying to argue, I just wanted to expose them to the rest of the world and explain that being American is not sharing a race. Being American is more about sharing a language and a physical place. America is really a melting pot, but I understand how confusing that can be to people who are from a place where the entire country is of the same race and color.

Well, the time has come. But as a side note, the whole notion of “come to Africa and lose weight” isn’t exactly applicable to me trip. Our cooks are way too good and the other night we had fried foods galore! Delicious is an understatement. Foods I don’t even like become so tasty here, for example I eat peanut butter almost every day and actually enjoyed eggplant. Who knew keeping an open mind could be so appetizing!

Until Next Time,
*Nicole