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Mombasa

End of first term

Time is flying by so fast.

As it turned out, for exams week I had no formal responsibilities at all.  I continued teaching the vocational students English and Math in the mornings, even though I didn’t have to (a good example of “volunteering,” right?) but I was effectively barred from teaching class two and three art because, apparently, they are either taking tests or “reading” in preparation or them all week.

As you may recall, I wanted to do more to prevent kids from graduating without knowing how to write their names.  I did manage to start some experiments with name reinforcement before the term ended.  I applied some of my tagging (spraypainting my name in a stylized fashion) “skills” in my art classes by having the students take turns writing their names on the board, and for each kid I would do a custom version of their name that looked really cool, then I had the kids sit down and draw more cool versions of their names in their books.  I didn’t take any pictures in the classroom, but here is an example of a tag I did in my parking lot in Santa Monica to give you an idea:

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It doesn’t look as good when I use chalk.

For the vocational students who know at least a little vocab we did anagrams.  I wrote all seven names on the board and then I found smaller words within them.  I had them continue where I left off, and I brought a dictionary into the class for them to share to check to see if their guess was a real word.

Today many Deaf students from the coast will convene in Mombasa for competitive sports and dancing.  This means other volunteers will be coming as well, so I did a little house cleaning in preparation.  My friend who lives in the bathroom seemed a bit annoyed but I tried not to bother him:

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I let him go wherever he wants because I accidentally killed his brother when I was spraying for ants.  I feel guilty so he gets free reign, although he mostly likes to chill out in the corner where I keep my shampoo.

Well, I’m supposed to oversee some sort of campuswide cleaning effort, so I’m heading outside to try to get the kids to pick up trash.  I’ve tried a few times already but they’re always busy with some other chore (in Kenya people take a lot of time to sweep the dirt in the mornings, for example) so it feels mean to tell them to also pick up garbage.  Oh well, that’s my assignment, so I’m off to convince them to clean some more…