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Case Study:
Teaching
Computer Science in Ethiopia
Jacob Eliosoff, Lecturer, Addis Ababa University,
2003-2005
Why
did you want to teach in Ethiopia?
I actually started out looking for a
position anywhere in Africa, but it’s hard to even begin a search that
broad. So partly, by chance, I ended up focusing on
Ethiopia. I’m a computer programmer by trade, not a professor,
and I was looking for a school where my experience would really add
something. I mean India has plenty of eager computer science students,
but it also has a much larger pool of teachers with the relevant
skills. The last thing I wanted to do was end up taking some local
teacher’s job.
Ethiopia has a pretty extreme shortage of computer
science teachers relative to local demand. It’s also a country I knew
very little about, so coming from Canada I figured I’d learn something
about what life was like for people in a very different place.
How
did you get the job?
Well, my boss at a previous company
was Ethiopian, but I didn’t use that connection as well as I should
have. I started out looking for an NGO that could help set up the trip.
But I didn’t find much. CIDA (the Canadian International Development
Agency) has a program for young Canadians wanting to work abroad, but
it seemed to be aimed more at fresh grads than at more experienced
workers like myself. I didn’t find anything like International
Professors Project.
Fortunately, this was 2002, not 1992. I just spent
a few weeks searching the Web and sending emails to various random
Ethiopian organizations and potential employers. Most went nowhere, but
one guy referred me to an Ethiopian company that ended up hiring me as
a software consultant.
I actually had two jobs – one with the company and
one at Addis Ababa University. I knew about AAU first, but
getting a job there took much longer. It came down to several
months of bugging people, which still would have failed if I hadn’t had
the department head’s support. AAU has an enormous need for
computer science instructors, but one of the things I learned is that
just because you have something to offer doesn’t mean an organization
will jump at the chance to hire you. In fact, part of the
reason the demand is there is because the hiring procedure is so
laborious.
What were the best and worst
things about your experience?
OK, worst thing first. The moment I
got off the plane in a country where I had never met anyone. So
obviously there were friends and family I missed. But I knew
that was part of the deal. There were other predictable sacrifices,
like slow Internet and the occasional cold shower. But all that was
actually less tough than I expected. Addis Ababa has around five
million people, so I wasn’t exactly in the bush.
Less predictable was missing anonymity. A Canadian
friend of mine who also spent a year in Ethiopia wrote me an email the
day he left about a long complicated commute on the tube in
London. He was lugging around three huge bags and no one once
offered to help or even looked at him. Reading that from
Ethiopia I really envied him – that may sound glib but I’m
serious. It’s a privilege to walk down the street unnoticed.
It was also frustrating to know I was doing a
lousy job sometimes, giving badly prepared lectures or, especially,
losing my temper at students. I think to some extent that was
just a consequence of trying to balance two jobs in a completely new
environment. So I have mixed feelings about the two jobs
thing.
Good things, well there were a lot but the best is
easy: the people. I met Ethiopians I’m still in close touch with and
really grateful to have met. Teaching students with so much motivation
was also a constant buzz. I’ve already written about these, so I’m not
going to repeat myself here – see my webpage about
the trip.
Do you have any tips for others interested
in teaching at an Ethiopian university?
I’m talking to myself here...
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Pay attention and adapt. What
made sense back home may no longer be the best course of action. Do
your students need to learn what you’re teach- ing?
Do they want to? Do they even understand a word you’re
saying? Maybe if you slowed down your English a bit?
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Follow
the procedures. At
AAU, I was supposed to go to a special booth on a separate campus every
month to collect my salary. At one point, I neglected to do
this for four months in a row. OK, that was stupid, but I
figured I’m teaching three courses, I can collect it at the
end. The result was a huge six-month struggle to collect the
back pay. I ended up getting it literally two days before I
left the country. I have a lot of stories like
this. In Canada, you can often get away with following the
spirit rather than the letter of the law. Not so in Ethiopia.
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On
the other hand, if someone gives you a form with ten pages of seemingly
irrelevant information to fill in don’t just sit down and start writing.
Ask someone who knows the system what’s actually expected. You
absolutely need people like this on your side. Entering a
bureaucracy without one is roughly like setting sail without a map.
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Show
respect. First,
don’t interrupt. A more formal social behavior that you intend as just
friendly may come across as downright insolent. Second,
because the whole premise that you have some special knowledge or skill
to impart puts you at risk of seeming arrogant. Don’t forget
that you have as much to learn as to teach.
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Aim
for sustainable change.
Your students will rotate out in four years. But if you can produce
some lasting improvement to the system you’re working in, the benefits
can reach new students for decades. I brought several boxes of
textbooks from Canada, but despite my department head’s urging, I never
did manage to put in place a system that would keep the books flowing
after I left.
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Dedicate at least 2-4 weeks at the very
beginning – before you have a bunch of distracting commitments – to
getting a hang of the local language.
I still wish I had done this.
Finally,
by all means contact me at jacob@cs.mcgill.ca
if you think I can help with information or contacts. At the very
least, if you go, too, I’ll be interested to hear about your trip. |