In a previous blog I mentioned the lesson on family roles, but didn’t explain it that well. But I think it would be worth explaining.
Basically, the school used to run on the Egyptian curriculum, with a view to possibly taking IGCSEs at the end of schooling life. However, last year it was becoming apparent that there were two problems with this: the first is that IGCSEs are prohibitively expensive for a school that can barely afford textbooks. The second is that IGCSEs are actually more limiting because in a Sudanese university they would not count because they have not followed the Sudanese curriculum. In the west, however, Sudanese qualifications are accepted as equivalent to the British and American ones if a supplementary test is taken.
So it seemed a fairly logical decision to switch to the Sudanese curriculum. One key downside to this was that the school year had to switch from the British September-July format to the Sudanese May-February format (the Sudanese method keeps exams out of the scorching summer). So the school year which started in September 2008 restarted in May 2009 but with the new curriculum.
This means that Sudanese course content obviously has to be taught, and the most significant impact of this is in science, where part of the course involves learning family roles, but even more significantly, and more difficult for the school to handle, is the prominent involvement of Allah in some science textbooks. One exam question actually asked something along the lines of: ‘If we want to understand how Allah has made the world so great, where do we look?’ Unfortunately, no mark scheme was provided, so no one actually knows, which isn’t that helpful.
Things are complicated by the fact that in fact the curriculum in Sudan offers two options – either a Muslim one or another Christian one. So every time a lesson has to cover content that features religion, classes will have to split into the Muslims and Christians so they can each be taught their respective beliefs. Previously religion was not allowed anywhere near the classroom because the Egyptian curriculum specified either Islam or nothing (or there would be trouble, which the school has plenty of without adding extra problems). Our school previously opted for the nothing option, although I did once find some kids colouring in pictures of Adam and Eve the first time I was here.
The last two days have been relatively boring at school – today, for example, I spent four hours invigilating. It felt bizarre having been the invigilatee (?) only a few weeks ago. A surfeit of volunteers meant that at one point there were four invigilators for about twenty kids. We had them covered! They had their English test this morning which unfortunately it seems they all duly flopped. This, the teacher blamed on them not studying, although I have seen huge pedagogical flaws in the teaching methods used for English grammar, about which I am powerless to change meaningfully (I may blog in more detail about this at some point).
Fundamentally though, the curriculum will probably have benefits – disadvantages like this are to be expected in the kind of context that this education is happening in. But the better pathway to meaningful qualifications is surely a positive, along with the fact that these won’t break the bank. I think money shouldn’t be an object to any qualification in the first place, and so in an opportunistic but mildly relevant sidenote, I will now slate tuition fees: we have to pay to be educated at university? That doesn’t make sense at any level, whether it’s a school for refugees in Egypt, or a university in the western world. Even if we can’t share the nature of the curriculum on many levels, I guess that’s something I can conclude that both do share. Education should be free. Boom! And that’s my parting shot.
Tuesday, 7 July 2009
Sunday, 5 July 2009
McCairo
‘He went to the wrong McDonald’s.’
The fact that this sentence was said in Cairo can tell you a lot about the world we live in. It tells us something about just how ubiquitous it has become – a point of bright colours and American food/values which stands out against whatever background it is placed internationally, drawing customers eager to emulate Americans and the American way of life.
But before I elaborate, allow me to place this quote in context. On Saturday evening I had two choices – either go out with my American flatmate to an Independence Day party, or go to an authentic Sudanese meal with someone who I met back in 2007 during my first time in Cairo. I was put off the former partially because it seemed less culturally unique, but also when it was pointed out to me that as an Anglo-Japanese person, they would have two reasons to dislike me – the Revolution and Pearl Harbor. In fact, the only way it could be any worse is if I was a Muslim. So I think it’s fairly predictable for you to guess that I went to the Sudanese meal.
I was instructed to meet at 5pm outside McDonald’s, from where we would head to the Sudanese meal. If ever there was a stark contrast of Western and African food, this would be it. As I heard the instructions to meet there in my mind, I visualised it in my mind – I could see the Golden Arches set against that red backdrop, standing out against what is otherwise a relatively dull area. It seemed a good place to meet – very distinguishable at least. And so I dutifully made my way to stand outside that McDonald’s for 5pm. I hung around a bit, and no one else seemed to be there. Then, my mobile went off:
‘Where are you?’
‘I’m outside McDonald’s ...’
‘You most certainly are not!’
It transpired that unfortunately I had had the wrong McDonald’s in mind – hence the above quote given in explanation when I had rushed to the right one sheepishly. And so once we had all made our way past Pizza Hut, KFC and Costa Coffee, we got to our host’s house and ate. The food was great, and refreshingly different.
But McDonald’s influence over my evening was not over yet! Our host’s young son (a delightful boy) had a bunch of cars of all different sizes and shapes. But one stood out to me. It was bright yellow and appeared to be being driven a clown. Ronald McDonald to be precise. Stacked in it were bright yellow chips, a hamburger, and a cup with the Golden Arches emblazoned on them. Even here there was no escape from that infamous yellow M.
Its omnipresence helped me to come up with a (definitely not academic) definition of developing countries after my first visit to Cairo. A developing country is one where it is more expensive to eat in McDonald’s than it is to eat local food, whereas in a developed country, McDonald’s is cheaper than local food. So whereas in England, McDonald’s is a cheap option, in Egypt, McDonald’s holds a status such that Egyptians will actually dress up to go there, a proud father perhaps, paying for his family to engage in what I suppose could be called an American Daydream. It’s hard for us to imagine dressing up smart for McDonald’s, but because of this it helps us see the cultural crevasse that can divide even a globalised world.
I don’t want to simply use McDonald’s as an easy target (since there are no end of other valid targets). But in the same way that its logo’s prominence almost defines its successful business model, it can also form the basis of its criticism. My Third World Law almost seems like a counter to Friedman’s Golden Arches Theory of Conflict Prevention – the law (which was, I should emphasise, even tongue-in-cheek for him) that no two countries with McDonald’s in them have ever gone to war against each other. It’s not true by the way (for example, Israel’s war with Lebanon, 2006). But more importantly, whereas Friedman uses McDonald’s as a logo defining globalised business leading to globalised freedom and peace, I am using it as an example of globalised business leading to globalised divides between the developed and developing world.
You could start to defend McDonald’s and many of the Western companies in Egypt by pointing out that they go out of their way to over employ people so that wages can be spread around more, rather than being concentrated to a few lucky people. I don’t want to draw conclusions that are too swift or monotonous, but these are very significant and interesting issues! At the very least, it’s a lot of discussion for a simple geographical mistake. Food for thought I guess! I just hope it’s not fast food!
This blog will resume its normal intellectual vapidity as soon as possible.
The fact that this sentence was said in Cairo can tell you a lot about the world we live in. It tells us something about just how ubiquitous it has become – a point of bright colours and American food/values which stands out against whatever background it is placed internationally, drawing customers eager to emulate Americans and the American way of life.
But before I elaborate, allow me to place this quote in context. On Saturday evening I had two choices – either go out with my American flatmate to an Independence Day party, or go to an authentic Sudanese meal with someone who I met back in 2007 during my first time in Cairo. I was put off the former partially because it seemed less culturally unique, but also when it was pointed out to me that as an Anglo-Japanese person, they would have two reasons to dislike me – the Revolution and Pearl Harbor. In fact, the only way it could be any worse is if I was a Muslim. So I think it’s fairly predictable for you to guess that I went to the Sudanese meal.
I was instructed to meet at 5pm outside McDonald’s, from where we would head to the Sudanese meal. If ever there was a stark contrast of Western and African food, this would be it. As I heard the instructions to meet there in my mind, I visualised it in my mind – I could see the Golden Arches set against that red backdrop, standing out against what is otherwise a relatively dull area. It seemed a good place to meet – very distinguishable at least. And so I dutifully made my way to stand outside that McDonald’s for 5pm. I hung around a bit, and no one else seemed to be there. Then, my mobile went off:
‘Where are you?’
‘I’m outside McDonald’s ...’
‘You most certainly are not!’
It transpired that unfortunately I had had the wrong McDonald’s in mind – hence the above quote given in explanation when I had rushed to the right one sheepishly. And so once we had all made our way past Pizza Hut, KFC and Costa Coffee, we got to our host’s house and ate. The food was great, and refreshingly different.
But McDonald’s influence over my evening was not over yet! Our host’s young son (a delightful boy) had a bunch of cars of all different sizes and shapes. But one stood out to me. It was bright yellow and appeared to be being driven a clown. Ronald McDonald to be precise. Stacked in it were bright yellow chips, a hamburger, and a cup with the Golden Arches emblazoned on them. Even here there was no escape from that infamous yellow M.
Its omnipresence helped me to come up with a (definitely not academic) definition of developing countries after my first visit to Cairo. A developing country is one where it is more expensive to eat in McDonald’s than it is to eat local food, whereas in a developed country, McDonald’s is cheaper than local food. So whereas in England, McDonald’s is a cheap option, in Egypt, McDonald’s holds a status such that Egyptians will actually dress up to go there, a proud father perhaps, paying for his family to engage in what I suppose could be called an American Daydream. It’s hard for us to imagine dressing up smart for McDonald’s, but because of this it helps us see the cultural crevasse that can divide even a globalised world.
I don’t want to simply use McDonald’s as an easy target (since there are no end of other valid targets). But in the same way that its logo’s prominence almost defines its successful business model, it can also form the basis of its criticism. My Third World Law almost seems like a counter to Friedman’s Golden Arches Theory of Conflict Prevention – the law (which was, I should emphasise, even tongue-in-cheek for him) that no two countries with McDonald’s in them have ever gone to war against each other. It’s not true by the way (for example, Israel’s war with Lebanon, 2006). But more importantly, whereas Friedman uses McDonald’s as a logo defining globalised business leading to globalised freedom and peace, I am using it as an example of globalised business leading to globalised divides between the developed and developing world.
You could start to defend McDonald’s and many of the Western companies in Egypt by pointing out that they go out of their way to over employ people so that wages can be spread around more, rather than being concentrated to a few lucky people. I don’t want to draw conclusions that are too swift or monotonous, but these are very significant and interesting issues! At the very least, it’s a lot of discussion for a simple geographical mistake. Food for thought I guess! I just hope it’s not fast food!
This blog will resume its normal intellectual vapidity as soon as possible.
Thursday, 2 July 2009
Windows onto life ...
Today was a very stressful day, although for once it has nothing to do with the school (not that it is a pain to go to the school at all!). And the cause of all this stress?
My computer broke. And when I say broke, I mean seriously broke. Although it got better again.
In the morning it was fine, and as with yesterday I brought it in for the Lion King rehearsal (it’s effectively the technical desk, which will cause a problem when it is in England on the performance day, but I’m sure we’ll work our way around that somehow!).
Unfortunately, when I turned it on I was welcomed by a screen saying ‘Operating system could not be found’. Uh-oh. That’s not small fry – that’s the kind of ‘fry’ you get when you crack an egg in the desert! We couldn’t even get it into BIOS, which is the most basic of basic layers of a computer’s software (it stands for Basic Input Output System).
I decided that I must have accidentally bashed something out of place inside the computer, so proceeded to try and fix the problem by bashing it back, or as I’d prefer to say, using percussive maintenance. This did not work. Which is probably not surprising.
The alternative explanation I could come up with was that it might have something to do with the Egyptian USB stick that I plugged into my computer yesterday only for my anti-virus detected 140 viruses lurking in the dark depths of its data – although I cleansed it instantly of all these.
Anyway, I managed to get hold of the St Andrew’s computer whizz, and we took out the hard drive and managed to get my crucial data off onto his computer running Windows 7. ‘So much better than Vista,’ he noted, ‘but they stole some things from Mac.’
This at least meant that the hard drive itself was fine, so we dumped it back in for him to attempt to fix the computer again. ‘It might work now,’ he ventured. I pressed the On button. And it did! Oh mercy! Oh thank you God!! I was SO relieved I can barely express it in words.
Computers are both blissful and baneful things. The irony is, if I’d not been able to get it working again, I’d have ended up borrowing an old Mac which I had just updated the software on for someone else and used it instead. Just like at home. That particular Mac is years old and still going strong. St Andrew’s’ computer whizz, on the other hand, recommended I buy a new computer to replace this one. Perhaps, but my bank account will need to lose its depressingly dark red shading first ...
My computer broke. And when I say broke, I mean seriously broke. Although it got better again.
In the morning it was fine, and as with yesterday I brought it in for the Lion King rehearsal (it’s effectively the technical desk, which will cause a problem when it is in England on the performance day, but I’m sure we’ll work our way around that somehow!).
Unfortunately, when I turned it on I was welcomed by a screen saying ‘Operating system could not be found’. Uh-oh. That’s not small fry – that’s the kind of ‘fry’ you get when you crack an egg in the desert! We couldn’t even get it into BIOS, which is the most basic of basic layers of a computer’s software (it stands for Basic Input Output System).
I decided that I must have accidentally bashed something out of place inside the computer, so proceeded to try and fix the problem by bashing it back, or as I’d prefer to say, using percussive maintenance. This did not work. Which is probably not surprising.
The alternative explanation I could come up with was that it might have something to do with the Egyptian USB stick that I plugged into my computer yesterday only for my anti-virus detected 140 viruses lurking in the dark depths of its data – although I cleansed it instantly of all these.
Anyway, I managed to get hold of the St Andrew’s computer whizz, and we took out the hard drive and managed to get my crucial data off onto his computer running Windows 7. ‘So much better than Vista,’ he noted, ‘but they stole some things from Mac.’
This at least meant that the hard drive itself was fine, so we dumped it back in for him to attempt to fix the computer again. ‘It might work now,’ he ventured. I pressed the On button. And it did! Oh mercy! Oh thank you God!! I was SO relieved I can barely express it in words.
Computers are both blissful and baneful things. The irony is, if I’d not been able to get it working again, I’d have ended up borrowing an old Mac which I had just updated the software on for someone else and used it instead. Just like at home. That particular Mac is years old and still going strong. St Andrew’s’ computer whizz, on the other hand, recommended I buy a new computer to replace this one. Perhaps, but my bank account will need to lose its depressingly dark red shading first ...
Wednesday, 1 July 2009
Youkoso and ... Me? A Thief?
Today the Japanese Embassy came by the school. ‘To see you?’ someone asked me.
Unfortunately not. But never mind.
Actually it’s quite a mystery why they came. The school got an email a few days ago informing them that staff from the Embassy would be turning up and that was indeed the case. 45 minutes early (impressive even for the Japanese, incredible for the Egyptians!) a swish car pulled smoothly into the school, and the single Japanese staff member was whisked around the school, her head buried in a notebook, seemingly not saying anything the whole time.
I had been asked if I could use my Japanese semi-skills to teach the children to say something that would help persuade the Embassy to dole out donations (as that is the presumed motivation behind the visit).
Literally seconds before the ambassador came to hear the kids say something, I was still frantically running down the line of kids (who were annoyed to have been pulled out of their sports class) trying to make sure they said something comprehensible. The staff member stood in front of them expectedly, I crossed my fingers and ...
‘1, 2, 3!’
‘St. Andrew’s e youkoso!’ they all shouted. (Welcome to St. Andrew’s).
Not particularly flashy, but about as much as could be done with a high chance of success in the time available. Luckily the staff member understood and even clapped briefly, the most expressive she had been the whole time.
The weirdest things happen at this school.
Something else that happened today either makes one of the young students in my class a satirical genius, or she did something completely coincidentally amazing.
Just as she was instructed to start copying off the board in her copy book, she instead grabbed a tiny scrap of paper, intent on writing something on it. I tried to get it off her without success, and watched her scribble something quickly, wondering what was so important that she had to write on such a small piece of paper.
Having scribbled successfully, she resisted more when I tried to get it off her, and then finally I managed to snatch it away. I looked at what she had written – ‘Thief’! As in ME?
Either this was an ingenious paradoxically ironic joke – the note is accurate in calling me a ‘thief’ only BECAUSE she wrote the note prescribing me a thief – or it was just a complete coincidence. I actually want to believe the former however much I doubt it’s the case ...
Unfortunately not. But never mind.
Actually it’s quite a mystery why they came. The school got an email a few days ago informing them that staff from the Embassy would be turning up and that was indeed the case. 45 minutes early (impressive even for the Japanese, incredible for the Egyptians!) a swish car pulled smoothly into the school, and the single Japanese staff member was whisked around the school, her head buried in a notebook, seemingly not saying anything the whole time.
I had been asked if I could use my Japanese semi-skills to teach the children to say something that would help persuade the Embassy to dole out donations (as that is the presumed motivation behind the visit).
Literally seconds before the ambassador came to hear the kids say something, I was still frantically running down the line of kids (who were annoyed to have been pulled out of their sports class) trying to make sure they said something comprehensible. The staff member stood in front of them expectedly, I crossed my fingers and ...
‘1, 2, 3!’
‘St. Andrew’s e youkoso!’ they all shouted. (Welcome to St. Andrew’s).
Not particularly flashy, but about as much as could be done with a high chance of success in the time available. Luckily the staff member understood and even clapped briefly, the most expressive she had been the whole time.
The weirdest things happen at this school.
Something else that happened today either makes one of the young students in my class a satirical genius, or she did something completely coincidentally amazing.
Just as she was instructed to start copying off the board in her copy book, she instead grabbed a tiny scrap of paper, intent on writing something on it. I tried to get it off her without success, and watched her scribble something quickly, wondering what was so important that she had to write on such a small piece of paper.
Having scribbled successfully, she resisted more when I tried to get it off her, and then finally I managed to snatch it away. I looked at what she had written – ‘Thief’! As in ME?
Either this was an ingenious paradoxically ironic joke – the note is accurate in calling me a ‘thief’ only BECAUSE she wrote the note prescribing me a thief – or it was just a complete coincidence. I actually want to believe the former however much I doubt it’s the case ...
'I love Uzbekistan'
My second day at St Andrew’s and yet more fun and frolics to blog about for the online world to devour. Well, probably not the online world. Just a tiny, miniscule fragment of it. But hopefully enough people for this byte-sized blog to be worth writing anyway.
Notable events today. Well, there was the bizarre science lesson. Trust me – this is truly weird. The school has recently switched to the Sudanese curriculum which on the one hand makes everything a whole lot more structured than it was before, but on the negative side ... well, the negative side is best illustrated by using this lesson as an example.
It was called ‘Our Dwellings’ and involved a substantial discussion of Family Roles. That’s right – in a science lesson. So, the teacher asked, ‘What is the role of the father?’
Hands shot up from all over the classroom: ‘Miss! Miss!’ ‘Pick me teacher!’
Various people were chosen, and the results, for your educational needs, were as follows:
- To protect the family
- To earn money
- To make decisions
The mother meanwhile, has the following jobs:
- Going to the market
- Looking after the children
- Cooking
The main responsibility of children is to obey their parents. Of course.
Me and another volunteer sat slightly bewildered during this lesson. I couldn’t resist smiling and one student picked up on it:
‘Why are you smiling teacher?’
I scrabbled around for an answer: ‘Because ... it’s interesting!’
It seemed to work.
But that’s not the funniest thing that happened today. Oh no – that happened when two volunteers did a creative writing class with the children. The main part involved creating an acrostic poem – where the kids would write their names along the side of a page and then come up with a word or a phrase which began with that letter.
Most kids came up with fairly typical words and phrases, but some were ... well, we had to wait until after the lesson to burst into laughter. Here are the best:
- I love Uzbekistan (1)
- I like traffic signs
- NATO is my friend (2)
- Tables.
Yes that’s right. Just ‘tables’. Apparently that child’s world revolves around them ...
Finally, my maths came under severe strain today when I had to help a class revise how to multiply, divide, add and subtract fractions. I couldn’t remember how to do any of this (I’ve never needed to either!) and so had to be subtly taught by the main teacher of the class whilst he showed them. At one point, therefore, I was standing at the board, with the main teacher giving what seemed to them to be simply verbal instructions for them, but were in fact codified such that I could do it properly ... it was slightly tense.
Having re-learnt it, I then had to authoritatively go around and help show them how. Luckily the masquerade seemed to work. But this part of maths they find very difficult (although at least they are being taught – apparently maths is the weakest point for most teachers so they stay away from it).
1 So, it seems, did Blair and Brown – very unfortunate given the regime’s treatment of political opponents
2 Unfortunately (and I almost didn’t post this because it ruins the joke), it turns out that one of the new students in the class is called Nato.
Notable events today. Well, there was the bizarre science lesson. Trust me – this is truly weird. The school has recently switched to the Sudanese curriculum which on the one hand makes everything a whole lot more structured than it was before, but on the negative side ... well, the negative side is best illustrated by using this lesson as an example.
It was called ‘Our Dwellings’ and involved a substantial discussion of Family Roles. That’s right – in a science lesson. So, the teacher asked, ‘What is the role of the father?’
Hands shot up from all over the classroom: ‘Miss! Miss!’ ‘Pick me teacher!’
Various people were chosen, and the results, for your educational needs, were as follows:
- To protect the family
- To earn money
- To make decisions
The mother meanwhile, has the following jobs:
- Going to the market
- Looking after the children
- Cooking
The main responsibility of children is to obey their parents. Of course.
Me and another volunteer sat slightly bewildered during this lesson. I couldn’t resist smiling and one student picked up on it:
‘Why are you smiling teacher?’
I scrabbled around for an answer: ‘Because ... it’s interesting!’
It seemed to work.
But that’s not the funniest thing that happened today. Oh no – that happened when two volunteers did a creative writing class with the children. The main part involved creating an acrostic poem – where the kids would write their names along the side of a page and then come up with a word or a phrase which began with that letter.
Most kids came up with fairly typical words and phrases, but some were ... well, we had to wait until after the lesson to burst into laughter. Here are the best:
- I love Uzbekistan (1)
- I like traffic signs
- NATO is my friend (2)
- Tables.
Yes that’s right. Just ‘tables’. Apparently that child’s world revolves around them ...
Finally, my maths came under severe strain today when I had to help a class revise how to multiply, divide, add and subtract fractions. I couldn’t remember how to do any of this (I’ve never needed to either!) and so had to be subtly taught by the main teacher of the class whilst he showed them. At one point, therefore, I was standing at the board, with the main teacher giving what seemed to them to be simply verbal instructions for them, but were in fact codified such that I could do it properly ... it was slightly tense.
Having re-learnt it, I then had to authoritatively go around and help show them how. Luckily the masquerade seemed to work. But this part of maths they find very difficult (although at least they are being taught – apparently maths is the weakest point for most teachers so they stay away from it).
1 So, it seems, did Blair and Brown – very unfortunate given the regime’s treatment of political opponents
2 Unfortunately (and I almost didn’t post this because it ruins the joke), it turns out that one of the new students in the class is called Nato.
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