The School Visit

Our pre-trip info packet said that we would likely visit a school near our build site as one of our cultural activities.  We were encouraged to bring school supplies to donate.  So, I carved what I thought was a generous amount of space in one of my bags for bringing over school supplies to a small rural village in Ghana, and one Monday morning our group went to visit a local school.   

They didn't tell us how big the school would be. I was overwhelmed by the population - 450 students in six grades, with an average of about seventy students per classroom.  I looked at the school supplies I had brought; in all roughly 32 crayons, 40 pens, and 500 sheets of paper.  So, from my generous offerings each student could have approximately one sheet of paper and one-tenth of a writing utensil.   Way to save the world, Angie.  Let the largesse flow forth. 

We had a few minutes to walk around and observe the students in their classrooms, then the bell rang for mid-day break and all of the kids poured out of their classrooms into the courtyard.  And then there were a hundred adorable schoolchildren congregated in front of me, staring at me, waiting to see what I would do next.  What would I do next?  I wasn’t really sure.  I hadn’t anticipated having a sudden audience.  So I followed the lead of another volunteer and took out my digital camera to get a picture of the group.  I sort of understood this would be a popular thing to do – the kids love having their picture taken and seeing their faces show up on the display.

I just had no idea HOW popular.  Turns out ‘popular’ is a bit of an understatement. 

And that’s how I started a riot amongst a hundred schoolchildren in Ghana.

This is just a portion of the group - you have to imagine this extending in a 180-degree arc around you to appreciate the full experience. 

As soon as I turned the camera around all the little faces in front of me had to see the display LIKE RIGHT NOW.  There was pushing, there was shoving, there were little kids squashed between the shoulders of bigger kids, there were kids jumping to see over the heads of their classmates.  They reminded me of the way koi fish will all pack in and flop around on top of one another trying to reach a lone crust of bread.  Laughter, cheers, pointing, grabbing.  I don’t think anyone was hurt and they all seemed pretty happy, but I’m glad they’re sturdy.  This went on for several minutes.  I don’t think the kids ever got tired of seeing the display, but I did, so eventually I had to just shut it off and put it back in my pocket.  And then we were back to square one – what to do now?

I made a semi-theatrical turn and took two steps away, then looked over my shoulder.  They all giggled and followed me.  I put my arms at my sides, hands out, shuffled penguin-style.  They did the same.  And the game was established.  I raised my hands overhead and saw two hundred hands shoot up in reply.  I made airplane arms and swooped in a semi-circle around the schoolyard and created a hundred mini-airplanes following in my wake.  I assume this is what being God feels like.  I can only imagine how awesome teaching group fitness here would be (not that they need it, of course – alas, the people easiest to teach are the ones that don’t need to be taught). 

Me and some of my mini-airplanes.  This was some of the best fun I had on the trip. 

The kids I encountered in Ghana were a joy.  Part of that may be simply because everyone, young and old, is eager to meet and please American visitors. And then, part of it too may be the things their upbringing does right.  Don't worry, I'm not about to launch a "that's what wrong with kids/parents today!" diatribe.  I'm not a fan of blanket statements of how kids should and shouldn't be raised (especially from people that don't have any - like myself), and I'm not comfortable stamping my foot and saying it's the limited media influence, or the relative lack of junk food, or the corporal punishment, or the religion, or the family, or their access to nature, or any of several dozen other influences, that affected the behavior I witnessed.  But I can say, based on admittedly limited observation, that the kids I met seemed pretty content.  The babies don’t constantly fuss.  They sit or lie wrapped up on Mom’s back and watch the world from their vantage point with hardly a peep.  The kids in tow behind Mom and/or Dad are content to sit and watch their parents while they work, or they find quiet ways to entertain themselves with simple toys like a stick and a half-deflated rubber ball.  They get excited by new shiny things like digital cameras, but not greedy, not desperate – not competitive, I don’t think.  They’re not brats, I guess is what I’m saying.  Just … happy.