[I originally wrote this in my notebook
with a red pen]. I’m using red because at the moment I’m invigilating
(proctoring) my Form Cs’ practice exam and I just used it to fill in the
answers to the answer key. And I’ll keep using red because I’m mad and the
color fits my mood. Here’s the sitch:
My
principal called me into her office where some members of the school board were
sitting in there and having a meeting. She said that a few minutes ago, the PC
education director had called her to say that he would be coming to the village
to look at the new house on Friday. This was Tuesday. She then said that he
would need to see everything, (meaning, to her, all the furniture), in the new
house. Having sent him an email a few weeks prior and getting a response saying
that he could just come to my current house to look at the furniture, I was
skeptical that he had actually said this to my principal. I asked her if he
specifically mentioned the furniture and she said that he did not. After
mentioning said previous emails with the PC education director, she went on a
tangent about how I shouldn’t have asked him about this. I replied saying that,
well, I did ask because there was no harm in doing that, and that, no, he doesn’t
get the impression that you’re unprepared or anything. I said that we should
call him back and ask specifically about the furniture so that we might be able
to avoid all the problems of me living a furnitureless life. She said ok, and
that he should be on speakerphone. I quickly bought some calling minutes and
called him in front of everyone. No answer. I said I would try to call him
later.
Then,
playing into the still hypothetical, yet very likely, situation that I would
need to move my furniture into the new house, I asked how we might go about
dealing with moving it. She said that someone would come and take it on Thursday
(two days from then), with no intention of moving it back into my house after
the education director came to visit. Fine. Whatever. This being established, I
asked if she assumed that I’d be ready to be totally moved out of my house when
the furniture was taken. She was basically like, “Uh, yeah.” I told her that
this was very sudden. Move out of my house in two days? I asked her where else
I was supposed to stay. What did she suggest? She looked at me with a
half-smiling face and a shrug that seemed to say, “I don’t know or care. Not my
problem.” She halfheartedly suggested that I could stay at her room that she
rented in the village for a few days, but there was no guarantee that her
landlord would allow that. And somehow I knew she would come back to me with a
story, true or not, about how the landlord wouldn’t allow it. In any case, I
definitely didn’t want to stay with her in her tiny room. I told her that I’d
much rather stay in my host family’s house or that I’d look for another place
to stay, like one of the guest houses at the orphanage.
Then,
still thinking that she might have to ask her landlord to let me stay with her,
she asked me how long I would need to prepare myself to leave. Woah, woah,
woah. We had recently agreed that, instead of staying until the end of November
at the end of the school year, I would only stay until mid-November when my
replacement volunteer came for site visit. This was still mid-September. I
reiterated my desire to stay and fulfill my commitment to the students to get
them through the year, and not just abandon them like they’d been abandoned so
many times before. She said that, no, I wouldn’t be abandoning them because
[Ntate Other Math Teacher] will take over my classes. Oh, I said, this same
[Ntate Other Math Teacher] who goes missing or weeks on end and we can’t
contact him? Or the other teachers who are absent all the time, leaving on
Thursday afternoon and coming back Tuesday morning? Clearly, I was quite upset
at that point to be so direct with my boss in a culture that respects deference
and tends toward passivity. She replied telling me to let the administration
take care of the absenteeism; that was not my problem to worry about. Oh, the
administration, huh? The administration being you, the principal, the biggest offender
of this absenteeism?
Knowing
that continuing this conversation wouldn’t end in anything but actual shouting,
I dropped that subject and asked her why she wanted me gone so quickly. Was
there something you’re not telling me? Why are you trying to get rid of me? No,
she said, they’re not trying to get rid of me. It was just that PC has a
certain protocol whereby (Basotho love the word “whereby”) the old volunteer
should be gone before the replacement one comes. Yes, I said, I know PC
protocol. In fact, I thought, I know it much, much better than you do because,
guess what, I actually worked for them for over a year and experienced their
protocol first hand. This made up excuse of “PC protocol” was absolutely false.
My school was so afraid of being perfect for PC that they thought that my being
in the village at all (not even as a PCV, but as an independent expat at this
point) will cause PC not to put a new volunteer in my village. Normally, I explained,
the old PCV is at their site until December right before the new one comes to
move in, and that the replacement volunteer stays with the old volunteer during
the November site visit. We agreed earlier that I would be here until this site
visit, which is way sooner than I would normally have to leave. Add that to the
fact that I’m not even affiliated with PC anymore and that you’re not even
using my same house made my principal’s argument even more ridiculous and just
plain wrong. I’m no different from any old member of the village at this point.
Stop trying to shove me out of my home! Ugh.
I
left the meeting saying that I was already late to go tutor at the orphanage,
and that since my furniture was being taken from me in two days, I’d have to go
empty out my wardrobe and cabinet and stuff. On my walk up the hill after
tutoring, I thought about what my principal had said about the only compromise
being my ability to stay in my house (furnitureless) until the end of
September, because that’s the last month my school would pay for my rent, since
they would start paying for the new house after that. Fine, I thought. But I
retorted by asking what if I paid my own rent? What if I found somewhere else
to live? After proposing this, I was just met by “Achh” and shaking heads from
all the meeting participants. No answers, just looks saying “Why in the world
would you ever want to do that?”
So
in any case, while I figure stuff out, from Thursday onward I’ll have no
furniture. I’ll sleep on the floor and have all my stuff in boxes until the end
of September, then try to move into the orphanage’s guest house. And no, the
irony has not escaped me that I’ll be living in an orphanage after I’ve been
abandoned by my two guardians, PC and my school.
At
least the good thing is that every time I get kicked in the face by my school,
my village always comes around and shows its love. After that meeting, I was
happily received at the orphanage by the staff and the kids as usual. Then on
my way home, I ran into several bo’me who were so nice, one happily commenting
that I’d gotten so fat (even though I answered that I hadn’t gained any weight,
I still took it as a complement, as it is meant to be.), another asking when I’ll
visit her across the river at her village, and a third telling me very
excitedly to please say hello to my host ‘me for her. Village bo’me are the
best. They always come in at the right time to make my day.
Today,
I was not nearly as upset as I was in February when, after I disaffiliated with
PC, they also suggested that I might want to leave. My principal said that she
appreciates my dedication to the students (but since no one else gives two
shakes about them, clearly this dedication was just a nuisance to her and the
school instead of something to convince her that I should stay). I don’t know
how much longer this dedication will continue to outweigh the sh*t storm I’ve
been forced to slog through. I’m just going to keep doing the best I can for
however long I’ll still be here, while at the same time accepting the things I
cannot change for as long as I can stand it.
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