After the rain
Girar Amba School
The rain finally stops so we can get on with the purpose of the visit and hopefully back on schedule. It is a lesson in patience and appreciation to sit and watch / listen to the rain that is so desperately needed. Our priority this morning is getting through a busy schedule and back to Degan on time. This 30 minute unscheduled pause prompts me to reflect on the significance of an event that is all too common, taken for granted and even unwelcome where I live. Here, it determines whether the previous year’s work on ploughing, planting and tending is going to bear fruit (pardon the cheesy expression!), and defines the prospects for the entire community for the next. More than a mildly inconvenient and unplanned variation to a day’s program of events! I’m grateful for the time for this reflection, and can't help thinking that the timing is perfect. Long enough to stop and think, short enough to make the schedule.
The purpose of the visit is to see progress on a classroom building project that the DESTA Project helped to fund. There is an element of courtesy call and indication of continuing support – even if it isn't the current top priority. The small size of the project is comforting. It seems manageable.
The project was delayed because a building boom in the capital resulted in a massive increase in the price of cement. The economics of supply and demand are not complex here. Extra funds had to be raised by the community and the work is now progressing.
The facilities are basic, but the buildings are sound and, most importantly, durable. The methods are also basic, labour intensive with some materials sourced locally. The foundations are methodically placed river stones – of which there are plenty, though I wouldn’t like the job of transporting them here - fixed in place with cement. The concrete blocks are made on site. The cement store is displayed as a prized possession. The builders are onsite every day until the job is complete. No juggling of schedules or delays once the job has started!
The existing buildings tell stories. The gray block walls are painted with Roman and Amharic alphabets, digestive system, animal species and maps.
Quite different to the orderly, unadorned institutional walls I am used to seeing. I love this idea, and can see that lessons in the school grounds would be a welcome break from indoors on a hot but breezy day. The insides are stark, sometimes crowded and rather uninspiring. Unlike the natural, rural setting of the hills and lush tropical growth. This is higher ground than Degan and clearly it gets more rain.
The most inspiring sights and sounds are the kids. Little kids who will grow into small adults, as my own race did not so long ago because of poor nutrition. Little kids sitting on a blue tarpaulin on the dirt floor of their classroom with a multi-coloured pile of plastic shoes at the door.
There is no furniture for the youngest ones. Although it would be easy and cheap to source, getting it here would be either expensive or a challenge. Possibly both. Boys on one side girls on the other – though the majority in the youngest group are boys. Not so in the higher grade. Rote learning English sentences in grades 1 and 2, writing Roman and Amharic scripts, studying science on the outside walls of their school. This is a glimpse of the past and the future in the same frame.
The Ethiopian Jewish emigrants we met at the Lido in Addis looked nostalgic watching video of these classrooms captured on an earlier trip. They have travelled a long way from there, and so, most likely, will most of these kids. The chances are that some will end up running the country, others abroad as part of the diaspora or moving into the city. Recent trends show a major shift to city living. Views on the streets show adjusting can be difficult in the absence of community or government support. No one starves in the village, but the shift is common as countries develop from subsistence farming economics to industrial or something else.
Statistics show this to be the case in Ethiopia. I wonder what this school and community will be like in another 10 or 20 years. I imagine the airport at Kombolche will be redeveloped as a major gateway to the north. Its got a perfect location, just needs a paved runaway and a half decent terminal building. A bridge over the Cheleka River and a road to Girar Amba would transform the place – for better and worse in different ways.
The rain finally stops so we can get on with the purpose of the visit and hopefully back on schedule. It is a lesson in patience and appreciation to sit and watch / listen to the rain that is so desperately needed. Our priority this morning is getting through a busy schedule and back to Degan on time. This 30 minute unscheduled pause prompts me to reflect on the significance of an event that is all too common, taken for granted and even unwelcome where I live. Here, it determines whether the previous year’s work on ploughing, planting and tending is going to bear fruit (pardon the cheesy expression!), and defines the prospects for the entire community for the next. More than a mildly inconvenient and unplanned variation to a day’s program of events! I’m grateful for the time for this reflection, and can't help thinking that the timing is perfect. Long enough to stop and think, short enough to make the schedule.
The purpose of the visit is to see progress on a classroom building project that the DESTA Project helped to fund. There is an element of courtesy call and indication of continuing support – even if it isn't the current top priority. The small size of the project is comforting. It seems manageable.
The project was delayed because a building boom in the capital resulted in a massive increase in the price of cement. The economics of supply and demand are not complex here. Extra funds had to be raised by the community and the work is now progressing.
The existing buildings tell stories. The gray block walls are painted with Roman and Amharic alphabets, digestive system, animal species and maps.
Quite different to the orderly, unadorned institutional walls I am used to seeing. I love this idea, and can see that lessons in the school grounds would be a welcome break from indoors on a hot but breezy day. The insides are stark, sometimes crowded and rather uninspiring. Unlike the natural, rural setting of the hills and lush tropical growth. This is higher ground than Degan and clearly it gets more rain.
The most inspiring sights and sounds are the kids. Little kids who will grow into small adults, as my own race did not so long ago because of poor nutrition. Little kids sitting on a blue tarpaulin on the dirt floor of their classroom with a multi-coloured pile of plastic shoes at the door.
There is no furniture for the youngest ones. Although it would be easy and cheap to source, getting it here would be either expensive or a challenge. Possibly both. Boys on one side girls on the other – though the majority in the youngest group are boys. Not so in the higher grade. Rote learning English sentences in grades 1 and 2, writing Roman and Amharic scripts, studying science on the outside walls of their school. This is a glimpse of the past and the future in the same frame.
The Ethiopian Jewish emigrants we met at the Lido in Addis looked nostalgic watching video of these classrooms captured on an earlier trip. They have travelled a long way from there, and so, most likely, will most of these kids. The chances are that some will end up running the country, others abroad as part of the diaspora or moving into the city. Recent trends show a major shift to city living. Views on the streets show adjusting can be difficult in the absence of community or government support. No one starves in the village, but the shift is common as countries develop from subsistence farming economics to industrial or something else.
Statistics show this to be the case in Ethiopia. I wonder what this school and community will be like in another 10 or 20 years. I imagine the airport at Kombolche will be redeveloped as a major gateway to the north. Its got a perfect location, just needs a paved runaway and a half decent terminal building. A bridge over the Cheleka River and a road to Girar Amba would transform the place – for better and worse in different ways.
posted by Cathy Gunn at
October 27, 2007
2 Comments:
Thanks Cathy. These photos are much clearer, BTW! I wonder what a difference a few OLPCs might make?
Interesting thought Mark, and one that might be worth pursuing for a future visit. Ron and Maria had a container load of computers arriving at their mission in Tanzania - donated by a school in England. At one point I wondered if even the one laptop I had brought was too far away from where the students are / what they need to be of any real value. What they told me they need is text books that match the curriculum. In the end it was a group of teachers I showed how to use it and their enthusiasm said it was worthwhile. It did make me think about priorities though.
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