I teach
English in Mozambique. I don’t write
about it very often, but that is, indeed, my job. And it might not be rewarding in the traditional
sense (I am not terribly successful, for instance), but it is very funny. So I do enjoy my work.
Teaching
English in Mozambique is a unique challenge.
First, there is the question of communication. Almost none of my students actually speak
Portuguese at home (they speak a Bantu dialect, instead), and very few of them
actually communicate at a level that could be considered fluent. This is a problem, because I don't speak any
Bantu dialects, and must use Portuguese as a medium through which to conduct my
classes. In short, we end up with the
following equation:
Highly accented Portuguese (Teacher)
÷ Low level comprehension (Student)
________________________________________
Highly low level English
Comprehension (Student)
REMAINDER accented Portuguese (Teacher)
In other
words, the students don’t understand anything and, as a remainder, I am left
talking mostly to myself. In my highly
accented Portuguese.
And let’s
try to get a grasp on what my poor students are going through. First, imagine learning Spanish in high
school. That’s not so hard, right? No es díficil. But then try learning a third language (say, Chinese), through your recent acquisition of
Spanish.
No es
díficil à 它并不难
Got
that? Keep in mind that your teacher is
going to be talking to you in Spanish all
the time. Worse, it’s slightly
stilted Spanish. With some Portuguese
words thrown in (‘cause that what she studied
in high school).
So it’s
really no surprise when my students are completely and utterly overwhelmed at
my attempts. Even something as simple as
the verb “To Be” can be very confusing.
Yo estoy à 我的
Él es à 他是
¿Por qué
no estás entendiendo nada de esto? Why aren't you getting this?
So the
first problem is a problem of communication.
It would be much easier to teach English to students who could actually
understand my explanations, but, frankly, this simply isn’t the case.
The second
problem is a problem with the English language itself.
That’s
right. English. Compared to Portuguese, English is a terrible
language to learn.
English pronunciation
is difficult and highly diverse. Verbs in
the past tense are frequently irregular.
The vocabulary is rife with synonyms.
Words look the same and sound the same but aren’t the same. And what is
up with “Do” and “Did”?
Take this
sentence, for instance:
He knew Mike.
First of
all, we’re facing an irregular conjugation (know becomes knew). Secondly, we
have a silent K (knew pronounced new). Then, we have words that sound the same but
aren’t the same (knew sounds like
new). Finally, we’re looking at diverse
pronunciation, especially in regards to the pronunciation of the letter “e” (written
with Portuguese vowels, this sentence would look like “Hi nu maik”).
Then, take
a look at this sentence:
He did not
know Mike.
Where the
heck did we get that “did”? In
Portuguese, this sentence would read, “He no knew Mike.” Or, better, “He no knowed Mike.” Logically, that is what makes sense.
My
students have a lot of trouble grasping “do” and “did” when using them as
auxiliary verbs, and I don’t blame them.
(Do you even know what
an auxiliary verb is? I didn’t
until just now!)
By the end
of the year, we are all babbling idiots.
I lose the ability to explain even the most simple concepts (I like, He
likes, you… likes?) and my students are knee-deep in the swampy murk of the
sticky English language. I find myself
speaking and writing only in cognates
(design an image, respond in a phrase) and some of my students simply reach a
point of over-saturation (“Teacher, I no likes Inglês).
So why do I
enjoy it?
Because,
against all odds, teaching English is fun.
The Verb “To
Be” lends itself nicely to a rhyming jingle, and regular verbs in the past
tense just evoke the urge to chant. And
who knew that you could have so much fun with a duck, a plastic jar, and six
prepositions of place?
I’ve decided
that I simply can’t teach the entirely of the English language. With just three hours of lessons with each
class a week, I can’t even teach a sizable chunk. But I can
make it fun, and built a positive relationship between my students and the
English language. So that’s what I do.
In return,
my students try their best. Their
English is terrible, and is likely to remain so. Their spelling is atrocious and their
listening skills are even worse. Their assignments
are a mess. But at least they are
enthusiastic and they manage to make me laugh.
One thing that always makes me smile is my students' love of their new English names. The names aren’t official in any way (often, they aren’t even real translations. After all, how would you say “Ndequenapena”
in English?), but the kids seem to like them.
I have some who use them unfailingly.
Some are
pretty:
Feta Julho à Fay July
Isabel
Castro à Elizabeth Castle
Some are
plain:
Fernando
Augosto à Fred August
Dino Ricardo
à Dean Richard
And some are
funny (or a product of me, giving up):
Samalani
Saquissoni à
Sam Sacks
Another
thing that makes me smile (or laugh outright), is the common misappropriation of
articles. Little words are tricky but important, and confusion about articles can lead to some oddly specific phrases:
I want to
be one teacher.
I dislike
a cabbage.
There is
also some confusion between the letters “R” and “L”, since the Chewa and Nyungwe
languages don’t distinguish between the two. That, paired with some very imaginative
spelling, keeps me on my toes when grading papers.
Mai numble
is numble 14. My number is number 14.
Mai tichel
is Techle Risa. My teacher is Teacher Lisa.
Finally, there
is this terrific anecdote. This, I feel,
more than anything else, really illustrates what I go through with my kids.
From my
diary:
“Today I taught professions… At the end of the lesson, I gave an
Independent Assignment. The students had
to fill in the blanks to complete the following composition:
“My name is______. My father’s name is _______. My father is a ______....”
Then, as an afterthought, I remembered that I had
a large number of orphans in this particular class. I felt bad, but decided not to change the
whole assignment. Instead, I drew a
little text box on the corner of the board.
“If your mother or father has passed away,” I
said, “You can change “is” to “was” on your composition. That way, you can both honor your parents and
complete the assignment.”
I drew on the board [ is à was ] and felt pretty good about myself.
But when my students started handing in their
compositions, I realized that I had caused some confusion. Rather than honor the professions of their
late parents in writing, all of my little orphans had written,
"MY FATHER
IS A WAS.
”
It was funny and horribly sad, both at the same
time.”
So, yes, I
enjoy my job.
Am I
successful? Probably not. At least, not in a way that can be easily
measured. But I’m happy and my students
are happy, and through laughter and mild mistakes, we are creating a slightly
(and I do mean slightly) more peaceful and communicative world.
Group work from Numbles 44, 50, 48 and 49 |
English Names: Neves, Etelvina, Caetano, and Feta |
On the other end of the spectrum: Fernando Manuel does not know how to spell his name in any language |
"Aim fain thenquiwu" = "I'm fine, thank you." |
"Bowatalide sihola polafisola" = "Boa tarde, Senhora Professora" |
Haha. He meant to write "Good luck" |
Teaching English can be SO hard. Having a co teacher was a blessing and a curse, they would speak only khmer and I would speak only english with a little bit of khmer in there. Students were SO lost.
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