A few posts ago I mentioned umiseta which has been taking place at schools across the country in recent weeks. Just like in America sports are a big deal in schools and a considerable chunk of time at the end of the term is devoted to this tournament. Given that my school is conveniently positioned between two other schools in my ward, both of them quite small, we were the hosts for the local pre-umiseta tournament.
The umiseta is like a tournament in each of three games: soccer, volleyball, and netball, games fellow teachers told me were brought by the Germans back in the days of colonialism. Nearly all schools play soccer, often with a tennis ball wrapped numerous times in plastic bags, and only those with volleyball nets play volleyball, though it seemed students from all schools were competing regardless of their level of experience. Netball is like a cross between ultimate frisbee and basketball: a ball is tossed from player to player down the field, dribbling and running with the ball aren’t allowed, and to get a point players must toss the ball into a netless and backboardless hoop. Students from each school head into the towns to compete and certain players are selected to join the district team, moving on to a regional and then a national competition. Given constraints such as the difficulties in transport from one school to another for regular matches, the whole thing takes place in a couple of weeks at the end of the school term.
My school had been fortunate enough to be able to arrange a few matches in the pre-umiseta weeks to prepare the students. We traveled on foot to three nearby schools: one, a secondary school about a two and a half hours’ walk which sits on the edge of the Ngorongoro highlands plateau, boasting gorgeous views of the Rift Valley below, another, a vocational school training fundis on construction, masonry, and things of the sort, a short 30-minute walk down and back up the valley, and the last, a small secondary school in a village a bit closer to town than mine. We played each school twice, one home game and one away game.
So when the day of the local competition began, students and teachers were ready. We awoke that Wednesday morning to heavy rains drenching the land (“a blessing from God” I am told by villagers nearly every time it rains) and as the norm teachers and students alike were slow to arrive at school. Students stayed in their classrooms for an hour or so until the rain let up at which point they were sent to the soccer field, about a half-kilometer walk from the school, to prepare. The teachers sipped their chai, the cooks busily prepared enough ugali and beans for 1400 students, and when it was time we meandered down to the field for the first part of the competition: the relays.
Arriving a bit late as usual I wasn’t entirely sure there was much going on. To me it looked like the students were just warming up or running for the hell of it: whomever wanted to compete lined up, some wearing t-shirts and gym shorts and others wearing all or part of their school uniforms. But then I realized that there actually was some order to it all. The boys first lined up on one end of the soccer field, and on call they sprinted to the other end as fast as their legs could take them, spectators from schools and villagers standing by to cheer them on.
Next a full lap around the field, which proved to be particularly hilarious. The field was wet and muddy from the rains, and students were instructed to remove their shoes for the relays and to “chimba vidole vyenu chini,” literally to dig their toes into the ground. As soon as the group made the first turn around the field legs went splaying, students slipped onto the ground and slid into spectators, and soon there was a pile of students scrambling to get up and regain their footing. Some students quickly learned the proper way to maneuver the curves in such conditions, for others the learning curve was a bit steeper and several students finished the relay covered in mud from head to toe.
The relays continued with the girls, again barefoot and again with a learning curve on maneuvering in the mud. Again a few girls wore their school uniforms in all or in part, but most had put on a t-shirt and a pair of pants, making sure to modestly cover themselves with a skirt on top. As students finished the names of those who placed in the top three were written down, and students ate glucose powder to replenish themselves afterward.
Later in the day the boys played volleyball. Each school played all the others so there were a few matches that afternoon. At the same time the girls played netball in the adjacent field. Both of these fields were constructed in the open field between my school and the Ngorongoro forest earlier in the term (and by constructed I mean students took a jembe [a hoe] to dig the boundaries and called it a day), and the posts were taken from tree trunks fashioned to make a fence (apparently to keep elephants out in the night) on the path going through the school. After the volleyball and netball matches finished, giant sufurias and buckets full of ugali and beans were scattered around the jikoni and the students lined up for their share.
Always last is the soccer game. There wasn’t time for several matches so teams were a mix of players from all schools. The point of umiseta isn’t actually to determine which school emerges champion but to pick the strongest players from each school to form a district team. The match went on until just before dusk when everyone headed for home, students and teachers from visiting schools likely not returning home until well after dark.
Not too long ago I had a site visit from my Peace Corps “boss,” the head of the Education division of Peace Corps Tanzania. We talked about school and how things were going and I mentioned my frustration at how little importance the school seems to place on students being in class to learn (after all, students come to school to get an education, don’t they?). Classes are cancelled from anything from heavy rains to an unusually dirty school grounds to a game day in a village two hours away, and to me that didn’t seem right. Sports and games are indeed important in schools for a number of reasons, but perhaps something else should be arranged so as to not interrupt the class schedule so much. (Like less cleanliness! Don’t chop down all those shrubs 100 m from the school, this is called the bush for a reason!) James explained to me the history of the umiseta and sports in schools, and how that very issue has been arising for years. Classes used to be cancelled sporadically throughout the term to allow for a day of sports here and there (again, due to transport and other constraints often an entire day must be devoted), and so many people complained about it that the government at one point decided to ban sports and games in schools altogether. That lasted for a number of years until people pushed to get them back, and now the umiseta is held off until the end of the term when students should be finished with their exams and have a break in June to allow them to travel to the regional and national competitions. Nevermind that most schools don’t get the information until about two weeks before the players are expected to show up in the towns, meaning that all of a sudden the two weeks I had planned to use to cover the rest of my math topic is suddenly cut to one.
Now the umiseta in Karatu town has finished and as far as I know players have been selected and are on their way to the regional tournament in Arusha. From there the competition will continue until nearly the end of the month when the final national games are held. Maybe a player or two was selected from my school and a couple students from Form IV will be absent from their exam-prep classes this month (half-days were mandated for Form II’s and Form IV’s in June, meaning there goes my summer vacation), but otherwise things will wrap up as students make their way back to the school.
