After our first week in Malawi, our team was relocated to a new ministry in a small village called Nkhata Bay, right on Lake Malawi. I had a tough time the week before as I struggled with the idea of preaching (read about it here!) and I was anxious about what our next ministry would be.
With it being the first week of September, and seeing so many posts on social media about the start of the new school year, I will admit I was a bit sad I wasn’t home, setting up my classroom and planning the curriculum for my own class of smiling preschoolers. Upon completing my degree in Early Childhood Education this past year I have been eagerly awaiting the start of my teaching career, and honestly that was one of the hardest things to put on hold for a year when I committed to the World Race.
When our team leader, then, announced that our next ministry in Malawi would be working in a preschool and nursery, I couldn’t help but let out a squeal of excitement! I get to be back in the classroom! Immediately my mind when into teacher mode, thinking of all the games and songs and activities I could do with my new group of little ones.
I was the first one awake and ready for ministry the next day, eager to start. We walked fifteen minutes and arrived at a two-room building with a closet separating the two. No door and no screens on the windows. I heard the screams and chatter of children, and my heart beamed. YES! I was missing this so much.
My teammates and I walk in and meet the teacher, Ruth*, and she directs us to sit and play with the children. The room is literally just walls and a cement floor. Chalkboard paint is on one wall, and the others are covered with colorful pictures of animals, letters, and numbers. There are no tables, no chairs, and no toys.
After a few minutes Ruth directed the children, all 70 of them, ages 2-6, in their local language to sit in a circle. She sang two songs but then a parent arrived wanting to speak to her. She looked at us and asked, “Who would like to take over?” Every single one of my teammates pointed at me. Danielle will!
Yes! Okay. I am in my element. Let’s do this. I began leading a morning meeting song I learned a few years ago to learn the children’s names, most of which I couldn’t pronounce. The kids picked up the tune and the idea rather quickly though, and they were very much involved. I moved on to some other songs I knew, and they followed along as best they could. After this, I lost them. As I began to ask questions about the weather outside, I received 70 blank stares in my direction.
Oh, yeah. These children don’t speak English. That’s okay, You’ve taught ESL children before. In your last classroom three of your students only spoke Korean. You can handle this.
But this was different. How was I supposed to teach when my words sound like gibberish to EVERY SINGLE ONE of my students?
Ruth comes back into the classroom as I begin racking my brain for ideas, and I breathe a sigh of relief because she can translate for me. However, at that moment she looks at me and says, “Okay, I keep young ones with me, you take the older ones next door.” Okay, what would you like me to do? “Teach them.”
Teach them. In English. When they can’t understand me. Okay. Time to get creative.
As I start brainstorming and head to the empty classroom next door, 35 four, five, and six year olds follow me over. The same as the first classroom, it has nothing but a chalkboard. At this moment Ruth comes over and says I am free to use whatever is in the closet to teach with.
Yes! Resources! I eagerly make my way over, expecting to find a plethora of craft materials, manipulatives, and sensory toys. Instead, though, what do I find? A basket of bottle caps, a few boxes of literacy flashcards, a stack of plywood slabs with chalkboard paint, a handful of scrap paper with copies of people’s passports on both sides, a few crusty bottles of old paint, and 20-gallon tub of broken colored pencils. Where are the Lakeshore counting boxes? Where are the puzzles and the games that develop fine motor skills? Where are the stacks of construction paper and glue and glitter?
For once, I was at a loss. I am a teacher, yes. I have worked in countless classrooms over the past six years. However, each time I have had numerous resources at my fingertips. Want to make “candles” for our Advent wreathes? Great, let me grab a handful of toilet paper rolls I saved. Want to teach a lesson on the Solar System? Awesome, I will grab my giant tub filled with all things Space-related.
No, this time I will have to rely on my own skills. Use the limited resources I am given and make a learning activity from them.
I grab the bucket of bottle caps and head back into the classroom, deciding to create a math lesson. Confident in my idea, I begin to explain the activity to the children. Again, I get 70 blank eyes looking back at me.
Oh, yeah. That’s right. They don’t understand English. Okay. I try my best to explain through pointing and gestures, which I would like to say was decently successful.
Over the next two weeks I got better at communicating, and I believe the children understood what I taught: shapes, colors, counting, and the first few letters of the alphabet. I did attempt to teach a lesson on the parts of a plant, but unfortunately I couldn’t quite communicate the different words from my poor illustration on the board.
My time at this village preschool taught me more as a teacher than working in an American classroom ever could. I think back home I relied too heavily on the educational products and many teaching tools that are readily available. Yes, those are all very helpful and can enhance the learning experience in a classroom, but I don’t NEED them. In Malawi, all of those resources were taken away from me, and I was forced to use my creativity and the raw knowledge I learned in all of my early childhood education classes.
More than that, though, I learned how to teach without a common language. No, it wasn’t perfect, but the skills I acquired during those two weeks will help me tremendously in the future. We take classes on teaching ESL children, and we learn how to make accommodations in our lesson plans for students who don’t speak English, but nothing compares to the experience of teaching 35 preschoolers in Africa who only speak their local village language.
Thank you, Lord, for giving me the opportunity to teach in a preschool when I so badly longed to be home setting up my classroom. And thank you for teaching me so much more as an educator in return. I am so excited to take what I have learned and use it as I continue in the field of early childhood education.
For more updates throughout the year and pictures of my adventures make sure to “like” my Facebook page, Around the World, With Love: Danielle’s World Race, and “follow” my Instagram account, @atw_withlove!
