6 months into my placement

It’s that age old stereotype isn’t it? Those English, they only want to drink tea and discuss the weather. Well, not all the time. Sometimes we talk about croquet, or Pimms, or cucumber sandwiches on the lawn, or how well Tarquin’s pony jumped at gymkhana last weekend, then the weather... and then tea.

Anyhow, I haven’t had a decent brew in nearly 6 months. The tea bags I can get here are about as tasty as dust wrapped up in a bit of kitchen roll, and as milk is scarcer than the amount of sleep I am getting (who wakes at 3.25am on a Sunday...?) I have to make do with the powdered variety. Not good Tarquin, not good... And to round off the typecasting nicely, it is hotter than the gates of Hades outside. So, there you have it, stereotyping at its best.

The UNICEF work is in full flow. I took a week out from Bartica and travelled back up to Georgetown to work on the resource pack with the other SEN specialists and a volunteer from Peace Corp. As we were a little unsure of what we wanted to include in the pack, we spent the first couple of days collecting the information we all separately had. We then decided that it pretty much fell into three specific groups.

·         General methodology – to include information on the specific difficulties that children may have in schools; inclusion and differentiation, lesson planning and active learning; behaviour management techniques; questioning and assessment. It would also include information on school wide planning, parental and community support.

·         Individual disabilities and special needs – giving further information on the difficulties which children may have; their characteristics and strategies on how to support the children in the classroom.

·         Resource directory – with lesson and teaching materials, activities for specific special needs and a regional and national list of contacts and support networks for parents and carers.

Once this had all been collated we spent the rest of the time reading and editing out duplicated sections. Further roles and activities were assigned and we agreed to meet up again at the end of August to work further on it.

The next two weeks were set aside for me to complete the survey of schools. The UNICEF survey is slightly more detailed than the regional one I had sent away about 4 months ago. It includes the ages of the children, which is important for the national database, attendance rates and what, if any, support the children may be getting outside of school.

It was a pretty intense two weeks. I worked with another volunteer and we travelled to all 21 primary schools which we set out to visit.




Play equipment in a river school.

 

A house in Makouria village.





School security - Karrau Creek



The majority of the schools which we had to travel to, especially the schools in Bartica, I had been to before. But others were brand new to me, sometimes having to travel a bit further afield by boat or 4x4. The trip to St Mary’s took about 40 minutes. It’s a small school on the Essequibo River, tucked out of the way and next to a large quarry nestled in the forest. It is a commute you can’t really tire of really. I did a little film for you, go on, have a look if you have a spare minute. I didn’t have the theme music of Titanic, for obvious reasons, but if you want to imagine Dion harping on and warbling over the top of it then fill your boots.

I also mentioned that we had to travel a bit further by 4x4. Three of the schools on our schedule were deep in the forest and only reachable by taking a slightly hardier vehicle along the tracks cut into the forest by the mining and logging vehicles.

Wineperu School took about 2 hours to get to. The road/track/path (*delete as appropriate) was deeply potholed which meant that the driver either had to go at 5mph, navigating over foot deep ruts and trying not to smash the pick-up to bits, or he was belting it so fast (sideways around corners – that kind of thing) that we simply floated over the holes. The latter however, did not work; it just meant that the jolt was so hard that I kept clouting my head on the roof and my knees were mashed into the seat in front of me. That will teach me for being tall.



A better section of the road to 72 Mile School




Butukari Primary School



The next day we visited Butukari Primary and 72 Mile School. Do you know why they call it 72 Mile School? It’s because it is 72 miles away from Bartica, cunning huh? We met the driver at 5am and didn’t get back till gone 7pm. I think the total time we were conducting surveys was about 90 minutes, the rest of the time I was being patted on the head and knee-capped by a Toyota pick-up.

On the way back from Butukari, it started to rain. Nothing new there, it rains all the blinkin’ time in the rainforest, the clue is in the name Ian, idiot. But this little smattering decided that it was going to turn our road into a river. Around 6 inches in places and when we were trying to go up-hill, it was coming to meet us, fast. The windscreen steamed up, the driver couldn’t see, it was dark, thunder, lightning and for every meter we went forward, the mud made us slip back two. It was the Guyanese leg of the Paris-Dakar, awesome.

Progress report - slightly late...

Well, it has been a while since I last added to this shambles, so I apologise to anyone who has been waiting with bated breath for the next instalment.

It feels like so much has happened since I last blogged, which in fact is true. (I have never been too happy with the word ‘blogged’. As a verb it conjures up images which are pretty unsavoury. When someone next tells you they ‘blogged all weekend’ and you find yourself sniggering, you will realise what I mean.)

I have just reached my 4 month mark here, which, however you say it, sounds like the opening lines of someone’s prison diary entry. In that time, I have been pretty busy.

The regional SEN survey which I needed to write has been written and sent away to schools to fill in. I thought it was only fair to give a sizable chunk of time for the teachers to fill it in, considering the ludicrous amount of paperwork they need to complete here as it is. I think I allowed something like 6 weeks, with a deadline of May 13^th. (The day before I headed off to Tobago for a week’s holiday – I won’t bang on about Tobago, but I will say that it is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been to, I didn’t want to leave and was seriously thinking about going AWOL and I am totally unable to surf reef breaks without getting cut to bits by fire coral.)

It is now June 16^th, and I am still waiting for about half of the results back.

I was told before I came that Guyana was laid back. Looks that way really, doesn’t it?

Of the results I have got back, some of them are useful and some of them are pretty vague. Under the question, ‘Please give any specific details of children who you think may have Special Educational Needs in your class’ I have had a variety of different responses. My favourite so far has been ‘This child has bad manners’.

I am not too sure whether, if I told kids with dyslexia and autism to ‘just be a little more polite’, I could cut down the levels of SEN overnight. I will give it a whirl and let you know what happens.

So, that is all ticking along, as is the regional resource pack I am writing to give to schools with information about SEN, inclusive teaching in the classroom and strategies to support children, and the guide to making resources on a shoestring budget.

In conjunction with those two resource packs, I have also started to plan a 2 day workshop for teachers about supporting special needs in schools and inclusive teaching methods. This workshop is planned for October/November, so I can bend your ear about it closer to the time.

I have also got involved in another project, working in partnership with UNICEF.

There are regional surveys taking place in Region 1, 6 and 7 to establish SEN in schools, but they are all independent from each other. The nice people at UNICEF would like a standard nationwide survey about the children with SEN in Guyanese schools. The idea is to start in those three regions and then expand to include the rest of the country in the future.

Every 10 years or so there is a national census which gathers information about everyone in the country (Not too sure if the whole ‘Jedi as a religion’ thing has reached these parts – I’ll check) and the next one is planned in about 2 years time. This census will now be including a section about SEN in the community. What UNICEF would like us to do is perform an interim survey in schools, which is a little more detailed than the ones currently being completed in regions 1, 6 and 7, so that our information can be included with the national census to then account for the number of children with SEN who are out of the school system.

Is that all as clear as mud? Splendid.

The outcome of my ridiculous explanation is that I, along with a colleague, will be visiting about 21 schools in 10 days, and interviewing every teacher about the children in their class with any form of disability. It is going to be pretty tough going, as some days we will be visiting up to 4 schools. We will be travelling by car and also by boat to reach the river schools. It all sounds quite good fun. I hope those words do not come back to haunt me.

The second part of the UNICEF project is to collectively write a resource manual with the other SEN volunteers in Georgetown, about the inclusion of children with special needs in the classroom. I assume that it will be including strategies and ideas which will allow teachers to work with SEN children effectively, which isn’t always happening in schools. I’m doing that next week.

So, Marvin Gaye, that’s what’s going on. I hope I haven’t made your tea get cold or you burnt the toast.

Technical wizardry

Finally got round to uploading those videos from the literacy workshop at Kartarbo Primary.  If you are too tired, after a busy days work, to scroll down to find them, the links are also here.

Click
Click again

With the current internet upload speeds you might get another video in July 2017.

You are all good people.

Drive by drenching

This weekend I chucked ice cold water over a small child, squirted coloured dye on the white dress of a kindly lady and smeared coloured powder into the hair of an elderly man. Now, you would be forgiven for thinking that I am a monster, a terrible person who shouldn’t be allowed to mix with others and certainly someone who should not be on a voluntary placement. And you would be right. All of those things would be abhorrent, if it wasn’t actively encouraged.

This weekend I travelled up to New Amsterdam with the other volunteers I came away with to celebrate the Hindu festival of Phagwah, or Holi. Holi is the spring festival of colour which is celebrated at the end of the winter season on the last full moon day of the lunar month (thanks Wikipedia). It is commemorated by having a huge public water fight and covering each other in coloured dyes and powders. The significance of this is so that when you are all finished, you look the same as the person next to you. There is no distinction between colour, religion or race. We are all the same – covered from head to foot in coloured dyes and powders.

We took a short taxi ride up to the local Mandir, where we understood that a huge bonfire was to be lit, ushering in the start of the festival. We knew that it was going to be a bit messy, which is why I had scoured the stores in Georgetown the day before, trying to find an old white t-shirt to wear. I had found one, but it looked like it had been pulled from the depths of a horror show. But we soon fixed that, bleach is a wonderful thing.

We were lucky enough to be invited into the Mandir and were welcomed with open arms. The ceremony was fantastic, simply sat on the floor, listening to singing, chanting and some great music with drums and harmonium. The Pandit delivered his message, a mixture of tolerance to all and peaceful messages for living a happier life, and then went outside to start the biggest fire I have ever seen. It was as tall as a three story house, but unfortunately it had been raining during our time inside, so it took a little while to start going. I say a little while, because the 40,000 litres of petrol kicked it off quick smart. That was some sage thinking. Good old arson...

Then, it all seemed to go ‘a bit Lord of the Flies’, or so I thought. People were running around, throwing things at each other. I was about to curl up and continuously shout “please don’t hit my face!” when I realised everyone was smiling and laughing and having fun. The festivities had begun. All ages were involved, old and young, men and women, covering everything and everyone in water. The drums kept playing and the music continued. It was a huge dance which you couldn’t seem to stop taking part in.

Now, bear in mind that we were fully clothed in ‘non Phagwah’ stuff. The white t-shirt was still in my bag, as were everyone else’s as we thought all the water and powder shenanigans started the next day. Wrong.

I tried to avoid the water. I was unsuccessful. I thought I could use the Kate Adie approach. Hold a camera and say “I’m just taking some pictures”, but it didn’t wash. I suddenly realised that it was either I get the camera destroyed, or put it down and get involved, which I did. I highly recommend it, but do remember to take your wallet out of your pocket too, especially in a country which is pretty much driven with paper currency. Paper mache money never quite works as well.

We were driven home by our new friends, as they refused to let us get a taxi and waited for the morning to start over again.

On Sunday we were meeting up with a teaching colleague of a volunteer and celebrating with her family for the day. When we arrived, we were greeted with smiles, generosity and the largest breakfast imaginable, and then subsequently didn’t stop eating (or receiving warm-hearted graciousness) for the rest of the day.

The first part of the day is to walk around the village, collecting people to join your celebrations. Everyone follows a band, who sings and plays music and occasionally stop at houses to be fed and watered. You sometimes get the occasional flat bed truck which drives around and throws buckets of water over people. It is like being a kid again. Next you are supposed to cover yourself in the mud and ash from the fire of the previous night, but as the mud was a little toxic we just opted for the ash.

The second part of the celebrations was after lunch; this was the powder fight with dyes and water pistols. Again, all ages were involved, you go around the town visiting all your friends and neighbours, covering them all in different coloured powders and wishing them a ‘happy Phagwah’. It is really very difficult to try and describe how welcoming and friendly total strangers can be. I guess that is why it is referred to as ‘playing Phagwah’ because, that’s just what it is like, playing.

The family looked after us like we were their own; their friends and neighbours turned into our friends and neighbours. It was all quite lovely. And I thought it took a long time to wash out all the Mash glitter from my hair... think again, scruff bag! Happy Phagwah, yeah? 

"So that was the first big weekend of the summer...”

...to pilfer the words of Aidan Moffat (I know it isn’t summer – just run with it, alright?)

It has been a pretty hectic week or so here, far too much has gone on to put into one blog entry, so I am going to split it into two. Mind you, I am going to write them both at the same time and post them up at the same time, so I might just as well have written one massive block of words. I thought I would be kinder to you and split it up so you can get a quick brew in between, or maybe look out of the window at a bird or something. That is pretty kind of me I think, so don’t say I never do anything for you.

I travelled back to Georgetown this week for a variety of reasons. The main reasons were for meetings with NCERD (National Centre for Education and Resource Development) and some other VSO volunteers. The trip also coincided with the book launch of Peter Jailall’s new poetry book Sacrifice. Peter is the Guyanese writer, now living in Canada, who I worked with in my first week for the literacy project. It was a good evening, with about 50 or so people listening to Peter read some extracts from his book and make us all sing some songs – you could tell where the teachers were in the room and the people who wanted the ground to swallow them up.

It was a little tardy in getting started though, as we had to wait for the Prime Minister to turn up. What? Oh, didn’t I mention that I now rub shoulders with the influential and powerful? Me and Samuel A Hinds? Oh yeah, good buddies now. (The truth is that he was sat WAY away from me and I never got near him the whole evening – but don’t say anything, it makes me sound important.) I was pretty impressed that he turned up, he has known Peter for a long while apparently. I was beginning to think that I was a little bit important to be mixing with such dignitaries, until another volunteer said that she has been to about 5 different meetings with the Prime Minister and about 3 with the President. I’ll notch it up then...

The first part of my work here is to complete a survey of SEN for Region 7 schools, so I needed to have a chat with the National SEN Coordinator at NCERD to see which direction she wanted me to take it and if I could look at previous surveys to get an idea of what to do. She was really supportive and said that it was pretty much going to be the first of its kind in the country. If it works, it might be used elsewhere.

It was pretty apparent that most of the forms and paperwork which are sent out to schools are very lengthy documents for teachers to complete, so this one is going to be a pretty simple affair. I’m quite glad really, as the idea of filling in a survey or a form fills me with dread. Tick boxes are the way forward, and it also gives me an idea of what to look out for specifically when I visit the schools and classes in person. This was also echoed in the second meeting with VSO volunteers from the Disability programme, who I needed to have input from so the survey isn’t just from an education point of view.

I also discussed my year here with the National SENCO, and where she thought I might take my placement. She was keen on the idea of a resource pack for schools about SEN and Inclusion and also suggested that another project might be to create a ‘making SEN resources on a shoestring budget’ pack. I could make a guide to classroom resources and hold workshops for teachers to make them and know how to use then effectively in class. Sounds pretty ace I think, so we will see how that develops.

Right, I think we have all done very well to not fall asleep or punch at the screen with our fists. You deserve a cup of tea and a quick look out of the window. “Ahhh, there is a Robin, don’t see many of those at this time of year...” That’s what I might be saying, but no, I have to evacuate a cockroach from my living room. WHISKEY!

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Story writing projects and spiders on steroids...

One week of work down. It has been pretty jam packed really, and a far cry from the ‘just take the first couple of months to settle in...’ that VSO suggested on the training courses.

My job title here is Special Educational Needs Specialist, which is pretty daunting if I think about it too much with my head. I am working in Region 7 of the country, which is quite a large chunk of the mid west (if my increasingly poor geography serves me). I am centred in Bartica, but I will be working with schools in the Upper, Middle and Lower Mazaruni areas.

As far as I have been told, and these things can change all the time - a bit like the weather, I have two main responsibilities with my position.

·         To conduct a regional survey of all schools to establish the number of children who have Special Educational Needs. (From now on, I am going to just put SEN because to write Special Educational Needs all the time is going to melt my head – and it’s too hot today as it is...)

·         To spearhead the drafting of a regional SEN programme after the results are in from the survey.

So, I have to spearhead something. That sounds a little alarming, as I can’t say I have ever had to spearhead anything in my life, ever. It sounds like something a mercenary does, and for the whole region too. So, to cut a long story short, my job here is one massive panic attack waiting to happen.

One of the main problems I will face is that the Upper Masaruni regions are so far away that to get there you would need to get on a small plane, which would be great if the funding was readily available. So it could be that I have to concentrate more on the Lower and Middle Mazaruni areas. These are more accessible by car and also, to get to the more remote schools, by speed boat.

I am starting to get used to this speedboat lark. It’s not a commute I have ever had to experience. I am usually stuck behind a tractor or a buffoon in a Land Rover Discovery who takes up most of the road while they chat on their phone. But to skip over the waves surrounded by dense forests, watching eagles soar above me beats it hands down.

These boats are smaller than the time-travelling, fume filled boats from Parika. They are not enclosed so you are open to the elements. The breeze is lovely, but it masks the fact that the sun is burning you to a crisp, so when you arrive anywhere you look like you have been microwaved. Classy.

My week has been split. I have spent a couple of days in the Education Office and the rest of the time working with other volunteers on a literacy project. The Education Office is a pretty hectic place, with about 7 people trying to work in a room which can only really cater for 5 – due to it being a temporary office while the other building gets refurbished. I have been starting my induction programme here, and so far I have signed a form and taken down the phone number of the office. In week 2 of my induction, I get a tour of the offices and find out where the toilets are. Not kidding, that’s week 2. Fingers crossed I can hold on till then. I think I had been in the office for about an hour before I had the “So tell me sir, are you married? Do you have kids? Where is your wife? Would you like a Guyanese wife?” conversation. Twice. Will keep you posted on that.

The rest of the week was spent working on a literacy project in Kartabo Primary School with other VSO volunteers and the Guyanese poet and storyteller Peter Jailall. Peter was born in Guyana, but now lives in Canada where he publishes books of poems and stories about his native country. He comes back a few times in the year to work with local children on literacy and writing projects with volunteer groups.

Peter shared poems and stories (click on them, they are links to videos...) with the children, encouraging them to create written accounts of their lives and the animals they see in the jungle areas around their homes and school. The children were split into different groups where a number of activities were undertaken. Story boarding and sequencing, narrative writing and number problems which all centred on the stories main theme. This allowed the teachers of Kartabo to see how to include cross curricular themes into their own classroom teaching, and how to differentiate for those children with a higher or lower ability. The children were great and created some brilliant work.

On the last day of the week, the children travelled up to Bartica to come to the Learning Resource Centre which was been set up in the town. It is recognised as being one of the best centres of its kind in the whole country, allowing local children and adults to take out books and use the internet to complete school assignments and become more computer literate. It has been built up over time by past VSO volunteers and is currently looked after by a Peace Corp guy called Chris.

The children and teachers were able to browse the books and facilities in the hope that they would come to use it in the future. It was a good culmination to a busy and productive week.

Saturday was market day and wash day, which for some reason always makes me think of that scene in The Terminator.

Redneck - “Wash day right? Nothing clean...?”

Arnie - NU-THING-CLEAN...

Still not seen that spider again, which can only be a good thing. (Unless he is taking time out to bulk up, in which case it would then be a bad thing...) That pathetic whimpering sound I make is just degrading. I did oust a cockroach from my room the other day, so that’s something to be proud of me for, right? What do you want, blood?