Mango Kindy

And so the final term of the school year has arrived. Last year, at our annual end of the year meeting in Vila, at the time when Silas died and came back to life, the government offered its first allocation of money towards kindergarten education. This money, we were told, was to up grade 35 kindies in each province. I didn’t mention this before, because, to cut a long long story short the money was never actually given to us. Well this term, the money finally came through, and we have been told we have to spend it before the kindies close for the year in 7 weeks time. We have 7 weeks to upgrade 35 kindies. Silas is talking to some rural key teachers about some, so I decided to take charge of upgrading three in the town, one out in Tutuba on a small island near by, and two kindergartens that are attached to primary schools. Joan and I will do the workshops, and help the teachers of the kindies make toys, paint them, build outdoor equipment and plan their programmes. Tomorrow Joan and I will board the little boat sent for us from Tutuba Island, and stay a week in a grass hut. Tutuba has no electricity, but it does have an old well built in the Second World War by soldiers which is still used, making water access easier than on some islands.

 

Before we go tomorrow, we decided to go out to Mango Station kindy to talk to the teacher. A political party closed the kindy, because they paid the school fees for the children before elections and one of the teachers ran away with all the money. I woke up early and strolled along the dusty back streets of the town. It was a public holiday today, and at 6am everybody and there uncle’s brother were out on the lawn, sitting under trees, chatting and gossiping. Mothers sit above the children, making partings in the children’s hair, peering into them, them picking out the lice. They crunch them in their teeth then flick them off into the trees. Everybody waves at me as I wonder past, children from every house shout out… Miss Bridget, Miss Bridget… Where are you going? I can safely say I know every small child in the town. I picked up Joan on the way and we got a bus up to Mango kindy. The teacher said she had three children who were still coming to the new makeshift kindy she was having on her porch. We praised her and praised her and told her to keep going until the last child stopped coming. Mango station has a large poor illiterate population. Most of the people who live there come from ‘The Banks’ islands, far to the north, and very isolated. The have settled here on the edge of Luganville, and generally live of the land and do not go to school. School is one of only ways to really rise out of such poverty, to give you the ability to find out things for your self, to work out how to build a business, to think critically enough to change your own circumstances. If your mum and dad are illiterate, and unable to problem solve, the school is your only chance of learning these skills. Because of this we are desperate to get the kindy open again. With out kindy, these children will have no chance of getting accepted into school. We told her we will be back later in the year, we will gate crash church, to talk to the parents and try to get some support.