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Barbara Knowles (Botswana 198183) is 90-years old today. When she was 70-years old, she joined the Peace Corps and taught English as a second language in Ramotswa, Botswana. She kept a journal during those years, as well as wrote letters home, and also, with a felt tip pen, did sketches of what she saw in Africa. Recently, she sent us Its Never Too Late, a bound collection of her letters and journal entries, and copies of her Grandma Moses African sketches. Ramotswa Secondary School This was it and I did it! This morning I taught my first class, terrified and sweating like a bull. When the proctor rang his wooden-handled hand bell, I gathered up my books and papers and left the teachers lounge a windowless room little bigger than a broom closet and marched down the aisle of my classroom. Forty-two pupils rose from their seats and all chatter ceased. I put my books, notebook and duster (blackboard eraser) on the metal table, which served as a desk, and said, You may be seated. Metal chairs screeched on the concrete floor as they sat down. |
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Ramotswa Secondary School |
Good morning, I said, my name is Mma Knowles and I am to be your English teacher. I wrote Mma Knowles on the blackboard in my very best handwriting, and said, It is pronounced Nol. I went on to say that I was an American Peace Corps worker (pronounced locally Piss Cops which I didnt say) and that their government had asked my government to send fifty teachers of English to Botswana and that I was one of the fifty. I explained that in America we spoke English, as do the people of England, but perhaps with a different accent. I told them that I had two children and five grandchildren and said that I would bring pictures of Maine where I lived and of my family. I asked if there was anyone who didnt understand what I said and if so, to please raise his hand. I tried not to talk too fast because I was aware of how difficult it was for me when local people spoke Setswana rapidly. I drew America, the Atlantic ocean and Africa on the board, as best I could, to explain how far I had come and told them of the plane I came in, which could hold all the students of Ramotswa Secondary School at once. Im not sure they believed me. I asked them to stand, one at a time, and say their names, which I tried desperately to repeat correctly. I didnt do very well. Katometse Baleseng, Gorata Moikabinyana, Batlhalefeng Maisie and Tsheofastso Sesweo were possible, but Kgotlaetsile Phetwe defeated me utterly. They giggled when I mispronounced their difficult names, but corrected me nicely. I was delighted when every once in a while Dorcas or Lillian or Robert turned up. The young people were eighth graders (Form 1) and seemed to range from twelve upwards. The girls wore dark green shirtmaker-type knee-length dresses and the boys, chino short-sleeves shirts and long chino pants. Everyone had short hair and it was hard to tell girls from boys girls in green; boys in tan. I made a chart and had each pupil write his name in the space for his seat. Four rows of tables (desks) across, five rows deep, filled the room with two students to each table, boys with boys, girls with girls. The high-ceilinged room had windows on both sides, one side overlooking the school garden, the other, the courtyard. Gray walls, gray concrete floor, and gray metal tables and chairs made for very drab classroom. The bell rang. The period ended much sooner than I had expected. Im sure I didnt teach them much, but I was still in one piece hot, tense and scared, but I made it! November 22, 1981 I am very pleased with my 1A and 1 D classes. Only five got under 50 and three got over 90 in their final exams. I do have the bright group Mrs. Bergmans 1B and 1C didnt do as well. I am relieved that I havent fallen flat on my face as a teacher. I do hope that I can have at least one Form II class next year and a Form III the following years. Id like to guide some of these children I have this year right through to Junior Certificate exams in 1983. I wish Mr. Motsumi liked me better. I think he resents my being a woman and having a college degree. I hesitate to approach him with the request for advanced classes, but shall do so this week. He is stuck with me as I am a free teachers. Ramotswa Darling Sandy, |
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Cape Maclear, Malawi |
I think I will go to Malawi at Christmas. I dont know who with possibly alone. There is a lovely lake there, hills and green grass and trees and this appeals to me very much. I shall go by train to Harare (it was Salisbury last year) in Zaimbabwe and take a plane to Blantyre as Americans are not allowed in Tanzania, so I have to fly over it. I know a girl in Malawi from CAST and may stay with her for a bit then go to Monkey Bay on the lake and take a boat trip Ill see. My dearest love to the children the only thing I can think of for you is to read escape literature and get lots of sleep. You know you have to cut the strings to Amy no matter how hard it is. Write often and Ill write right back. Im here, dear, tho Im far away. Im available to listen and help if I possibly can. I love you very much, Sept 4, 1983 Dearest Rob, |
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Gabarone |
Philip, Mike and I went for beers at the Gabarone Club, dinner at the Cattle Post, then home. Tuesday we went to town. They dropped me at the Oasis Motel, then Mike turned in the car. I had three pleasant nights with TV, hot water, electric lights, etc. at my Conclusion of Service Conference. We had lectures on how to write a resume and how to get a job when we get back, what to expect from people, etc. On this last subject evidently little interest. It was nice to be back with the people I came here with two years ago. Weve been scattered all over Botswana. Friday night there was a huge party for the new Volunteers at which I drank a lot of gin and tonic and danced up a storm. Saturday I was tired and felt a little delicate no headache or pain, just delicate! Your visit was all I had hoped for. I love you very much, |
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