Day 18: Cultural Differences Are A Bitch!

5 July, 2010

There were NO other teachers in my classroom until 2pm today! Remember, I have two classes in the same classroom. I was running back and forth from one side of the room to the other, trying to keep P2 busy doing board work while I was teaching and grading P1 papers, and vis versa.

In the middle of the morning, Teddy showed me her wound again and it had opened up for at least the second time. She was also limping and looked pained whenever she walked. Joan, one of her classmates, took her to see her gradnmother who lives or works nearby and is a nurse. When they came back they were both acting very strangely. I saw one of the girls give Joan a few shillings, I'm assuming for breakfast. When I asked both girls if they were okay, they said no. They wouldn't or couldn't tell me what was wrong, I'm not sure which. They may not have known how to explain it to me in English.

Soon after breakfast, I noticed that Teddy had welts on one of her arms. They were purple and the wound part was scabbed over. This girl is dark, dark skinned. You wouldn't normally be able to see bruises on her. They looked a day or 2 old though, because they had already scabbed over. Then I realized she had one on her head. That was really concerning. I bandaged up her arms because the wounds looked like the other one did on Friday, like it was going to open up. These were not wounds that could have come from falling down, or scraping your arm on a rock, but there's no law against that here, there was no one in my classroom to tell and even if there was, these kids get caned for not knowing their multiplication tables. I'm keeping an eye on her for the next few days though. Maybe when the other teacher is there I can ask Teddy again and get the teacher to translate for me. Now, is one of those times that I really wish I spoke/understood Luganda.

I had lunch with Betty and I told her that the kids stopped by on Friday to see Theresa and Hollie. Then she told me how wrong it was for them to stop by after having already said goodbye and how disappointed she was in them. I tried to explain that they are kids, they realized they may never see them again, and they knew they would miss them. She wasn't buying it. However, Ruth told me that she stopped by on Saturday morning. I was very proud :)

Right after lunch I had to go to the bathroom and as soon as I came out, I heard the most awful screams I have ever heard come from a person. The kid was screaming, "uncle, uncle!" because the man they call "Uncle James" was caning him. I saw him in my room and assumed he was beating the P2s. I stopped outside and talked to David because I just couldn't watch. When I got inside none of my kids were crying, but I saw and heard him hitting something with a stick in my classroom. Mi jeung said the P3s came back into the classroom crying, and she heard it too.

The cultural differences are so hard to get used to. I could never accept beating a kid as a means of teaching. Those screams are too much to handle. I wish I could take them home with me. Especially Teddy and Ddamba.

Ending this one on a depressing note. Sorry, guys.