"Cherokee Gives Back" Collaborates with us!

Last week, I was googling our care point in Ethiopia to see if there would be anything new and fresh to share with the sponsors. When I usually do this, I get some of the old videos that were taken before I became involved with the school. This time, wow, I was amazed! There has been a teacher from Colorado working with the kids for about 2 1/2 months! He came to them via an organization called, "Cherokee Gives Back."http://cherokeegivesback.org/ They send out missionaries and volunteers to help various schools in 3rd world countries and Tom happened to be one of them who got sent to our school, Kechene.

Since I have read part of this blog, I have contacted "Cherokee Gives Back" and we are now collaborating together for the care point. We will be working together for the good of the school from now on, so this was an amazing discovery.

I would like to share some of this young man's blog with you.  I had been praying for more details about their school day at Kechene and what life is like on a daily basis with 130 children present every day. Here is what he had to say...

From Tom, a blogger who volunteers through "Cherokee Gives Back" at Kechene
From his Feb. 12, 2012 entry:
My alarm goes off at 6:59. I dress and pack my bag. I wear the same thing every day – jeans, a t-shirt, a hoodie and tennis shoes. 

Our house is located between a brothel masquerading as a bar and the Palestinian Embassy.

I walk down a hill to the Tor Highluch bus station.

In Addis, cars do not depreciate; they only appreciate. The price of a gallon of gas – $4, the same as a generous meal in one of the city’s nicer restaurants – is not enough to dissuade the fire-breathing dragons of commerce.

I finally arrive to the school between 8:40 and 9.

I am immediately, adoringly swarmed by a gaggle of 4-6 year-olds. After a series of hugs, kisses, and high-fives, I exchange three-step handshakes and greetings with the faculty in a mix of English and Amharic.

The student-faculty ratio at our school is surprisingly small. There are about 25 students in two classes, KG1 and KG2. There is a principal, three full-time teachers, two full-time guards, one cook/cleaning lady, one cool young dude whose role is still unclear to me, one wise old man who just kinda shows up around lunchtime, frequent and arbitrary visitors, and me.

The kids play for a bit as everyone arrives. Around 9, Ficulta, the female teacher/disciplinarian, raises the Ethiopian flag while the kids sing the national anthem.

Then it’s time for class.

Both KG1 and KG2 have English, Math, and Amharic every day along with a sprinkling of art, science, and music. Math became my favorite once I learned the Amharic numbers. It is easier for me to communicate in arithmetic than it is in English, which the kids (especially KG1) know so little. Ficulta does not speak English, so I assist Asrat and Mulugeta in their classes. They are passionate teachers. I learn greatly from watching them conduct class, even though most of it is in Amharic. Asrat’s style is expressive and playful, while Mulugeta is more composed and methodical. Asrat is in university studying education. Mulugeta is in his last semester at the school and will soon be an accountant.

My role in class is an amalgamation of teaching, assisting, sitting at a desk and watching attentively, checking classwork and homework, sharpening pencils, and keeping kids on task.

Recess: There is always a soccer game which Mulugeta, Asrat and I often join. Sometimes I play monkey in the middle with a few kids, sometimes I play on the slide, lift the kids up to do chin-ups, or just hang out in the cacophony. Lately I have been tutoring groups or individuals more, which has made recess shorter and more worthwhile. When the lunch buzzer mercifully rings around 12:20, I am hungry and tired.

Lunch is the most important facet of IEICA. Many of the students don’t eat breakfast, and some won’t get dinner either. Half-days end with lunch, and I get the feeling the tertiary faculty is there for the meal. Around forty former students who now attend the government school will arrive for lunch as well. We hand out the meal in an assembly-line, then eat our own share.

Four days a week we eat a bowl of rice, usually with potatoes and cabbage. It’s always filling. Once every week or two we have injera. Lunch winds down into a halfhearted naptime, followed by another, shorter recess. During this time I will usually end up discussing American, Ethiopian, and world affairs with Asrat and/or an old man named Meksala. I feel this reciprocal period of teaching is just as important as the classes with the students.

Around 1:50 the afternoon classes start, three and a half hours after the morning session ended. After this pair of classes the flag is lowered, the kids kiss goodbye, and I walk back down the hill and catch a bus to Piazza. The weather is the same every day – cloudless, 78 degrees with an occasional breeze. Though the temperature isn’t extreme, the intensity of the sun is ferocious. The equatorial proximity along with the 8,000 foot altitude create a brand of sunshine I have never experienced before, an enrapturing warmth that penetrates every pore of your body. To my amazement, most Habesha spend the entire day clothed in pants and an overcoat of some sort.

Tom's blog continues to discuss more of his day at the Cherokee house, but I found it quite interesting to get a sense of what goes on at the school during a "normal" day. It was especially alarming to me to know about how many adults are maybe there for the food. Sponsorship really has made a difference!