A school trip to Africa

Every Saturday morning, the school bike club heads out onto the bumpy roads through the villages on the outskirts of Kampala. The club consists of a feisty bunch of girls and boys who are not afraid to take a tumble and get their clothes a little dusty. For many of our children, it is the first time they have had contact with 'the real Uganda'. Normally, they view the villages through the tinted windows of a four by four, en-route to a luxury safari. Along the way, we pass by children playing in the streets, men pushing matooke laden bicycles up hills and goats and chickens aplenty. In the UK, such a club would never be allowed - I can't even begin to imagine the Risk Assessment form! We have to deal with swerving bodas, unpredictable matatus, random animals that wander across the roads at will, rough terrain, the odd drunken Ugandan and the clouds of dust would have many a wheezy kid reaching for an inhaler. We certainly attract a lot of attention too. I wonder what the villagers think as they see a couple of muzungu teachers pedal by accompanied by a mixture of European, Indian and African kids on shiny geared mountain bikes. Last week a half Sudanese, half Egyptian girl got quite rattled when some men shouted 'muzungu' at me. She had experienced similar comments when she attended a local school in Uganda, as her skin is a few shades lighter than the average Ugandan. She thought it was very unfair that I should be marked out for the colour of my skin. I explained to her that it is just curiosity and that I have never felt that these remarks are ever untoward, but she still did not like it.
The club is also a great example of learning taking place outside of the classroom. Besides the fitness and learning how to manage the gears on hills, the kids are exposed to so much more. Every week, there are countless questions that we do our best to answer. 'Why is that man pedalling his bike and going nowhere?'  'What happened to the grass on the side of the hill?' 'Why do they burn rubbish like that?' They are getting a glimpse of Ugandan life and starting to realise that not everybody has the same advantages as they do. It may seem very obvious, but it does not seem real until they witness these things first hand.
This week, we strapped a video camera to one girl's helmet. It's very shaky footage, but it will give you an idea of what we see.

Don't forget the full stops!

As a Primary teacher, I spend much of my time reminding children to read their work back and check the punctuation. Even smart Year 6 children are often guilty of neglecting full stops and capital letters. I therefore, found the following conversation quite amusing:
"Are you from England?" the shop assistant asked the other day as I nattered to a friend at the check-out.
"Yes, why do you ask?" I replied.
"It is because you are talking very fast. It is like you are talking without the full stops. An African always talks using the full stops!"
I laughed at the time, but it's actually quite an acute observation. As native English speakers we don't use full stops when we speak. We start mid sentence, often trailing off before the end, or find ourselves interrupted by another person. I know some people who even interrupt themselves!
But Ugandans DO use the full stops when they are speaking. There are many more pauses for breath. Contracted forms of words are also rare, for example this common comment -  'You are looking smart today!'
Most Kampala residents speak English, with varying degrees of fluency, depending on their education, upbringing, age and occupation. Luganda is widely spoken in the home,  at social events and in many day to day exchanges, but English is the language of business. So why do we use the same language so differently? In the villages, every conversation starts with a few polite exchanges - how is your mother, your father, your sister and so forth. I think that we muzungus are often perceived as being a little rude as we jump straight to the point. We are constantly racing around to hit deadlines. It doesn't even occur to us to ask about the family, the the state of the country of the latest football results before we ask what we really want to know. We pick up our phones, bark a few quick exchanges before hanging up ... if we speak at all. More often that not, we are just texting or sending one line emails.
I wonder if we are missing out in our abruptness. Wouldn't we get more out of our friendships and work relationships if we actually took the time to chat a little more?
From now on COMMA I will try to stop for breath COMMA and make use of the FULL STOPS .