Sr. Gisele asked me to watch the children while Liberata went out to do an errand. As usual, I was not told what time to expect her return. Mentally I was preparing myself to spend the entire day with them, because odds are she won't be back anytime soon. Also as usual, there was absolutely no direction given about what you should do with these kids. Probably because there is no set "activity" that Liberata does with the children. She actually teaches reading/writing to the 4 or so couture girls who have never had any school. So she is busy with that and she just basically makes sure the kids don't beat each other up. So I was off to a pretty nice start with Neli, Jaquine, Lucky, Adeline, and Chancey. Sr. Charlotte asked me to make a banner for the church for Lent, so I brought it into the garderie with me and was working on coloring it.
Well, the kids were in awe. They all came to stand around my table and watch, jibberjabbering in Kinyarwanda all the while. Seriously, for at least an hour they just watched me color. A few of them would wander off and play by themselves for a while. I was singing the whole time, and I tried to repeat the couple Kinyarwanda songs that I know. They sang along too, it was fun. And they were really very respectful and well-behaved. They didn't try to color my banner or take crayons or anything. They understood that this was not something to play with. Well, after about 2 hours of that, I made the mistake of going in the "food room" to put a key away. The kids' moms bring thermoses of porridge and/or portable thermos-like things of potatoes and other vegetables. We have a few cups and one spoon that the kids share. Yes, we have one spoon. I don't know why we only have one…there are more at the house…so anyways, there is food there for the kids to eat. Here's a few of them enjoying snack time with a mama during recreation
But of course, I have no idea if there is a certain time when they are allowed to eat, or if certain food can only be given to certain kids. So when I walk in there to put the key away, of course they all follow me.
And Lucky, a 3 year-old drama machine, heads straight for the canister of food that mama brought. She asks me something, but of course I can't understand her. Actually throughout the whole coloring session, they were trying to talk to me a lot, and they're at the age where they don't understand that I don't understand them. They see me as a "big person," and they think "of course she knows what I'm saying. She's a big person." They have no concept of different languages yet, even if I told them in Kinyarwanda that I don't speak Kinyarwanda. So anyways, Lucky said something, probably "I'm hungry." I had no clue how to open this food canister, but one of the other kids showed me. Upon seeing that it was potatoes and vegetables, I decide that I should ask first before giving this to her. Since I couldn't ask the children, I closed the canister and told them to wait.
And boom – she starts having a hissy fit. Never show a 3 year-old some food and then tell her she can't have it! Don't dangle the dream and then take it away! She screamed and screamed. I went to ask Sr. Gisele what the food policy was, and on the way I meet Sr. Charlotte. She says she'll come help me. So she goes in to intervene, and meanwhile I also see that Lucky has peed her pants. Again, this mini-disaster could have been prevented if I spoke Kinyarwanda …darn. Earlier we had all taken a potty break, and everybody except Lucky went potty. When I told her it was her turn, she kind of waddled around aimlessly, said something, and then headed for the exit. One of the other kids said something to me that I didn't understand, and they all left to go back to the garderie. Oh well, I thought. Maybe she doesn't have to go. Nope. She definitely should have.
So we have a crying, wet 3-year old, and fortunately now we have a Kinyarwanda speaker who is able to mediate the situation. Sr. Charlotte asks me if Lucky's mom brought more clothes. She laughs as I give a I-have-just-been-thrown-into-this-and-I-have-no-idea-how-anything-works-here look in response. So she strips her down, sits her on her lap, and gives her a bowl of potatoes. There's a Salesian if I ever saw one: a nun in full habit squatting on the ground with a naked toddler sitting in her lap, recently contented with a bowl of food. And the other kids are standing around, being very well-behaved again. I was expecting them to all want to eat also, or throw a similar fit because it isn't fair that one person gets potatoes and the others don't. But they didn't. And they also really didn't care that Lucky was hanging out with them completely in the nude. In general it seems they don't really perceive things as "private," they all kind of watched each other go to the bathroom too.
Well, the kids were in awe. They all came to stand around my table and watch, jibberjabbering in Kinyarwanda all the while. Seriously, for at least an hour they just watched me color. A few of them would wander off and play by themselves for a while. I was singing the whole time, and I tried to repeat the couple Kinyarwanda songs that I know. They sang along too, it was fun. And they were really very respectful and well-behaved. They didn't try to color my banner or take crayons or anything. They understood that this was not something to play with. Well, after about 2 hours of that, I made the mistake of going in the "food room" to put a key away. The kids' moms bring thermoses of porridge and/or portable thermos-like things of potatoes and other vegetables. We have a few cups and one spoon that the kids share. Yes, we have one spoon. I don't know why we only have one…there are more at the house…so anyways, there is food there for the kids to eat. Here's a few of them enjoying snack time with a mama during recreation
But of course, I have no idea if there is a certain time when they are allowed to eat, or if certain food can only be given to certain kids. So when I walk in there to put the key away, of course they all follow me.
And Lucky, a 3 year-old drama machine, heads straight for the canister of food that mama brought. She asks me something, but of course I can't understand her. Actually throughout the whole coloring session, they were trying to talk to me a lot, and they're at the age where they don't understand that I don't understand them. They see me as a "big person," and they think "of course she knows what I'm saying. She's a big person." They have no concept of different languages yet, even if I told them in Kinyarwanda that I don't speak Kinyarwanda. So anyways, Lucky said something, probably "I'm hungry." I had no clue how to open this food canister, but one of the other kids showed me. Upon seeing that it was potatoes and vegetables, I decide that I should ask first before giving this to her. Since I couldn't ask the children, I closed the canister and told them to wait.
And boom – she starts having a hissy fit. Never show a 3 year-old some food and then tell her she can't have it! Don't dangle the dream and then take it away! She screamed and screamed. I went to ask Sr. Gisele what the food policy was, and on the way I meet Sr. Charlotte. She says she'll come help me. So she goes in to intervene, and meanwhile I also see that Lucky has peed her pants. Again, this mini-disaster could have been prevented if I spoke Kinyarwanda …darn. Earlier we had all taken a potty break, and everybody except Lucky went potty. When I told her it was her turn, she kind of waddled around aimlessly, said something, and then headed for the exit. One of the other kids said something to me that I didn't understand, and they all left to go back to the garderie. Oh well, I thought. Maybe she doesn't have to go. Nope. She definitely should have.
So we have a crying, wet 3-year old, and fortunately now we have a Kinyarwanda speaker who is able to mediate the situation. Sr. Charlotte asks me if Lucky's mom brought more clothes. She laughs as I give a I-have-just-been-thrown-into-this-and-I-have-no-idea-how-anything-works-here look in response. So she strips her down, sits her on her lap, and gives her a bowl of potatoes. There's a Salesian if I ever saw one: a nun in full habit squatting on the ground with a naked toddler sitting in her lap, recently contented with a bowl of food. And the other kids are standing around, being very well-behaved again. I was expecting them to all want to eat also, or throw a similar fit because it isn't fair that one person gets potatoes and the others don't. But they didn't. And they also really didn't care that Lucky was hanging out with them completely in the nude. In general it seems they don't really perceive things as "private," they all kind of watched each other go to the bathroom too.
Oh – side note about the bathrooms: at our school we have toilets for the teachers. But the students' bathrooms are imisarani. This is a "village" bathroom. It’s a bunch of individual stalls, one stall for each class, and there's a hole in the ground with a plastic tray surrounding it. You squat over the hole, do your thing, and go get a bucket of water to pour down after. There's a floor squeegee also if need be, in order to clean up "spills."
So the other kids went about playing, and Sr. Charlotte looked for some clothes for Lucky. She found a sweater, but no pants. So, she'll just have to be pantsless for a while. She told her not to go outside. And that was that. She left to go get Lucky's mom from her classroom to see about getting some bottoms on this child. Her mom came, but she said she didn't bring anything because she didn't expect her to pee her pants. So Lucky will just remain pantsless until further notice.
Ok. Meanwhile, Chancey, who is Lucky's older sister, probably about 6 years old, starts moaning by the door of the food room. Her mom tells me that she wants to eat now too. Sorry, I didn't know because I can't understand anything these children tell me. Really, I am not the right person to be doing this job. So I give Chancey some food and she calms down.
Ok. Meanwhile, Chancey, who is Lucky's older sister, probably about 6 years old, starts moaning by the door of the food room. Her mom tells me that she wants to eat now too. Sorry, I didn't know because I can't understand anything these children tell me. Really, I am not the right person to be doing this job. So I give Chancey some food and she calms down.
Fortunately, we had Mass with all the students at 11am. So I was relieved of my duties at about 10:45am, as the moms would each be responsible for their respective kids during Mass.
After Mass, Liberata had not returned yet, much to my dismay. I was really tired, and was of course hungry cuz I was fasting, and just didn't want to encounter any more Kinyarwanda-related problems with the children. But I offered it up. And actually the rest of the afternoon was pretty fun. But overall, they were much louder today than normal. A few people commented after school that they could hear the children wreaking havoc. Lucky cried whenever she didn't get her way, and its super loud. And Jaquine got her finger pinched in the door, and also cried out in pain. But she was ok after a couple hugs and kisses. The room is a huge echo chamber basically, so crying really resonates throughout the whole school and all the classrooms can hear. Delightful.
The next few hours I sat down and played with them, building things out of legos, using plastic trees as telephones, and letting them play with my hair for about an hour and a half. The school is pretty fortunate to have a few toys for the kids. They play in a fenced-in playpen kind of thing, with a woven tapestry on the floor. They have some legos, a couple of balls, a couple igitambalo's (pieces of fabric used to tie your baby to your back or any other random use) and some random pieces of what must have once been a build-a-city type game. And its really cute to see the little girls play with their babies. Both Jaquine and Lucky have little stuffed animals that are their babies. They do just like their mamas and use a little strip of fabric to tie them to their backs. Its adorable.
Sr. Rose came to relieve me for a brief lunch break at about 2:45pm. I was happy about that. Finally at 3:30pm, their mamas came to get them and clean up the garderie. It was a long and difficult day, but also had its fun times too. I learned a lot by trial-and-error, like how to help a little kid go pee in the imisarani in order to prevent her from squatting and peeing on the bottom of her pants. I think next time I'll be more prepared, if I am ever thrown in there again.
In general, the spontaneity of my job has been a bit nerve-wracking. I must be very flexible, and constantly able to go occupy a classroom for an unspecified amount of time. I dislike not knowing when the regularly-scheduled teacher will arrive, or when Liberata will come back. That's probably an American thing, having too tight a grip on time.
But it’s a good sacrifice to make, just like Koinonia!
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