2/2/05

I've really been surprised at just how strong the desire to learn English is among my students, especially considering how low their level is. I'm not sure where this comes from, although many of them seem to have the goal of going somewhere, anywhere that isn't rural southwestern Chad. In class today we were correcting an assignment, where I'd asked the students to add endings to phrases like, "If I could, I would." I gave them the sentence, "If I had 1,000,000 FCFA (about $2000), I would..." Literally half the class, probably 40 students had written, "go to America." As a US citizen I don't think I can ever truly understand that desire completely, have been born and raised in America, but looking around at everyday life here, I can see the appeal.

Students in Chad begin studying English in Sixieme, roughly equivalent to 7th Grade in the States. I'm currently teaching Seconde, equivalent to 11th, and to use a good English-teacher-style vocabulary word, the level is truly: "horrific." They've been studying for at least four years already, and most are unable to form a single coherent sentence. To be fair, it's understandable- the students are packed 80+ to a class much of the time, there are no books, half the English teachers can barely speak English, and they're on strike half the time, because the Ministry of National Education hasn't paid them in six months. Given that, it isn't all that surprising that no matter what the situation, if you ask "How are you?", the only response a Chadian student will ever give is a robotic 'Iamfineandyou." Do they even know what that phrase means, or is it simply rote memorization and repetition?

That, in itself, seems to be the problem. As someone who has been teaching for a grand total of 29 days, I'm not in much of a position to criticize an entire education system. That being said, in my opinion, the method of teaching is terrible, and it shows in the level of the students. It's not that they're too young- obviously Denmark and Chad are light-years apart development-wise, but when I was living there in 2003, virtually any young teenager I met could have a detailed English conversation with me, something impossible with my '11th Graders,' many of whom are pushing 20. It's not that they're uninterested (although there certainly are some who look like they're there in flesh only, complete with glazed-over eyes and slack jaws) either. On the three-minute bike ride between my house and school, it's unusual if five different students don't bellow, "Good Morning Teacher!" as I ride past. Naturally when I ask them "How are you?" I get one response- "Iamfineandyou." So, if it's not youth, and it's not a lack of interest, I can only assume it's the method.

Picture any foreign language class you took in high school. Now, imagine if your came in, said nothing, grabbed the chalk, and began to write. For two hours. Without stopping. Without discussion. This is a pretty typical Chadian English class, from what I've observed, and frankly, it explains a lot. Add to this imagined scenario that you have no textbook, so you copy as quickly as you can, the heat is merciless, and you're sharing your desk with two others. Is it any wonder that anything beyond "Good Morning" is a struggle?

I know for a fact that Chadians (conspicuously unlike Americans here) speak several languages, and can switch seamlessly between them. A typical educated Chadian will speak a minimum of three languages: their own native tongue such as Moussey, Marba, or Ngambaye, Arabic, and French. Clearly, they're not incapable.

In addition to the terrible conditions, the style of most of the teachers I've seen seems to suck all of the interest and creativity from the room. The other English teachers at my school rigidly follow a syllabus of little more than rote grammar drills, with no opportunity for the students to speak. Even when the teachers do talk, 90 percent of the time, it's in French, making it impossible for the students to ever hear the language being used. This may be simply because the teachers themselves are barely functional in English- when I speak to my colleagues I use the smallest, simplest words I can, or more often simply speak in French- it's easier to do that than to adjust my vocabulary downwards so dramatically.
It's frustrating to see the desire to learn that some of my students have, and to realize just how little I can realistically do. When they move on to Premier (12th Grade, out of 13) next year, they'll have English class still, but it'll be with Chadian teachers using Chadian methods, virtually guaranteed to teach them nothing they'll possibly remember. I realize that I'm not here as a savior, that I'll be unable to have more than a tiny impact for a few students who genuinely want to advance. Although rationally I accept it, that still doesn't make it any easier to watch.

All this was made perfectly clear to me this afternoon, when one of my students, named Bouksouna Jonas, stopped by my house after class. He's a huge guy, at least 18 inches taller than me, rail thin (as most Chadians seem to be), with a voice that would shake the rafters, if our school had any. I don't normally invite students in who come by, as it's a huge breach of protocol, but he'd brought a painstakingly written note for me, in English, which he'd obviously spent quite awhile on. It said:

"Letter from the Teacher English in school Maldom Bada Abbass [my school]. My principal teacher NATHANIEL got morning? You are fay? Yes I am enquire you, because I comprendre the English! Am I not the book ou dictionary in English. Yes I written the letter and you given me the book or dictionary one I am not beaucoup the dificole. I have finich the letter. I am pupil class 2nd Utwo. My name is Bouksouna Jonas."

Now, what I believe he was trying to say was:

"A letter to the English teacher at Maldom Bada Abass high school. Good morning, my principal teacher, Mr. Nathaniel- how are you? I'm writing to you because I would like to learn English. Do you have a book or dictionary I could use? Yes, I wrote this letter, and I hope it wouldn't be too difficult for you to give one to me. I have finished this letter. I'm a student in 2nde U2, and my name is Bouksouna Jonas."

As butchered as the letter was, the meaning was completely clear. Jonas desperately wants to learn, but doesn't have the resources, the same problem facing so many Chadians in every aspect of their lives, and constantly holding them back. He asked if I had a book of readings he could borrow, which he assumed I'd been using for the texts I'd given in class. He was shocked when I told him I'd written the texts myself, that I wasn't copying out of a book, and that I was doing something almost creative. After talking for a while, I let him borrow an English textbook I have, and sent him on his way. I only wish that there was more I could do for him, and for the other students, the ones who sit under the streetlights in the dirt, reading and rereading their lessons each night. Perhaps one or two of the will eventually be able to become functional in English, but the odds stacked against them are enormous. I know that I can only do so much, and although it may be considered noble and selfless, but when I end up in situations like with Jonas, it still doesn't feel like I'm doing enough...

Back to Peace Corps Writings