The last time I taught English in Tanzania (aside from Gracie, teaching English was our primary ministry), a rat ran up my leg. The class laughed while I yelled the Swahili word for rat and ran around frantically.
It didn’t faze them, though. Nothing did.
The power would go out and they’d take out their cell phones and shine the light to the front so they could see the chalk board. Sweat would be rolling down their faces and still they’d practice their English words, although the heat didn‘t faze them for anything really.
I remember the first time the lights went out thinking, “Well, class is going to be cancelled.” But they never cancelled anything it seemed like. They always kept going no matter what.
I was impressed with how much they wanted to learn. I was impressed with how much they soaked in each class time. By the time we left, someone who knew English was so impressed with their interest in learning that he decided he’d continue the classes for them.
Here in the Philippines it’s no different.
Except the students are 16 to 18 years old. And they’re behind bars.
Some are in for simple crimes such as possessing marijuana. Others are in for murder.
It’s a simple thing we’re doing, but the reason most of these young men are where they are now is that they were never shown love. When you don’t feel love, you act out. For some, this may be the first time anyone has ever shown them that they’re worth the time and effort.
Jodi and Emily, both teachers by profession and at heart, spend their time teaching seven young men the basics: greetings, letters, sounds and numbers. I teach Kirchrain. He’s 17 years old and a little more advanced than the other boys in the cell.
When he said he wanted to study from the bible and pulled out his Visayan (the language that is spoken here) and English bibles, I was a little worried. I didn’t know what I was supposed to teach him or really how much he could learn, but we got started.
“Is eating pig a sin?” he asked on the first day. “What an odd question,” I thought.
The following day he got a little more brave. “Is (pointing to the word ‘sex’ in his notebook) that a sin?” He was embarrassed to ask, but we talked through it. I’d just read about it that day.
Earlier that morning I had decided that I’d just rely on my daily bible readings for lessons and of course, he asked about the one thing I‘d read about.
As I walked away, he told the translator to tell me to call him “Kikim.”
“That’s what my friends call me,” he said.
