Tuesday, April 24, 2007

“The women are, of course, the biggest single group of oppressed people in the world and, if we are to believe the Book of Genesis, the very oldest. But they are not the only ones. There are others – rural peasants in every land, the urban poor in industrialized countries, Black people everywhere including their own continent, ethnic and religious minorities and castes in all countries. The most obvious practical difficulty is the magnitude and heterogeneity of the problem. There is no universal conglomerate of the oppressed. Free people may be alike everywhere in their freedom but the oppressed inhabit each their own peculiar hell. The present orthodoxies of deliverance are futile to that extent that they fail to recognize this.”

- Chinua Achebe “Anthills of the Savannah”

Kin Kindé (Greetings).

A quick update since I’m back in Fada briefly to retrieve a package from the post office – some postal love that, over the past month, has made its way from Western New York to the heart of West Africa and one very appreciative daughter. A new headlamp, a sturdier tent, rechargeable batteries, reading material – this is the stuff of Peace Corps volunteer dreams and it takes on a whole new meaning here in the bush (thanks, Mom and Dad).

I decided to escape the air-conditioned, tunnel-vision-inducing, head-spinning mania of the internet café and take advantage of a fellow PCV’s laptop to type this entry. E-mail access is both a blessing and a curse here as it is unspeakably wonderful to be able to communicate with friends and family, yet it’s an experience that takes on an intensity here so that, in stepping back into the West African sun out of relative technological bliss, the words of people you love fresh in your thoughts, you feel as if you’ve been hit by a truck or, more accurately, slapped with an unexpected reality.

But on to village news…

I’ve talked a lot about École ‘B,’ the primary school that I’m assigned to work with in my village. The director (principal) is one of my closest friends, a confidant and source of sanity in the not-uncommon moments of frustration or confusion. The teachers, too, are good friends and people whom I respect deeply for the tremendous task and sheer difficulty of teaching a classroom overflowing with unruly kids with only a handful of textbooks (classroom etiquette here is woeful and kids, lacking regular supervision at home, can often be a nightmare in a semi-regulated educational environment, especially when there are 80+ in a single class). That said, it’s been a bit challenging to work with the school since the teachers are so over-taxed. However, upon returning to village a few weeks ago, I was pleasantly surprised in a conversation with my school director where we managed to iron out a schedule for me to conduct review classes for the CM2 (5th grade class) who are preparing for their CEP exam, which determines whether they are eligible to continue on to junior high. As the system here is French, it is decidedly different than what we’re accustomed to in the States. Students in Burkina are not set up to succeed. It is infinitely easier to fail. The rigorous exams are just one example. As a Girls’ Ed and Empowerment volunteer, I discovered that inequity in the number of boys and girls in primary schools is not a problem in my village, as it is in many others. Rather, the problem is that girls don’t continue on after primary school, the most obvious problem being that they fail the CEP, for a host of reasons and often multiple times. Thus I’ve started conducting two review sessions a week with the CM2 class which will continue until the exam in mid-June. Wednesday mornings are grammar revision and Thursday mornings consist of a dictée – an exercise in which a passage is dictated to the students and then grammatical questions are posed. This is an area of the exam that kids do miserably on despite the fact that it’s a regular part of the curriculum. They must first listen and copy down the passage and then define and categorize certain words and phrases, conjugate verbs in the passage, translate sentences into a different tense or from the active to the passive voice. Each element is scored and students must score the “moyenne” (average) to get credit. Most do not. The exercise may not seem difficult at first glance, but these are 5th graders and French is not their first language. So here is where I come in: I execute an exercise with them and then we correct and grade it as a class. Although I practice reading each passage the night before, my accent sometimes gives the kids trouble…but a challenging revision is better than none at all. Though I haven’t implemented it yet, I’m planning on keeping a score chart for kids who get the moyenne and then I’ll give prizes to, say, the top ten kids who consistently achieve or exceed the moyenne.

Aside from the revision sessions, I’ve also started facilitating the equivalent of a gym class for the CM2 girls three times a week. My main objective is preparing them for the physical element of the exam, which consists of a 60m dash and a long or high jump (with impractically high standards, which boggles my mind…do undernourished kids in the third world really need to be able to sprint 60M in 9 seconds in order to continue their education?). Sadly, this portion of the exam often poses a problem for girls, who aren’t encouraged to participate in any form of athleticism (mainly soccer in village - the favorite pastime of boys). I’ve started off slow; we do a short run, then play a game – "duck, duck, goose" is good as it necessitates running quickly – then do another short run, which the girls, remarkably, love. I try to add interesting elements to the run, like having the girls at the end of the line sprint to the front then yell “allez” (go) to signal the next girls to start. They also enjoy singing during the run, which is always entertaining. The girls are enthusiastic to play soccer, so we’ll start with some soccer matches this week.

I’m hopeful that these sessions will pave the way for a regular sports club for any and all girls interested during the next school year. It’s pretty incredible to see how they respond to having my undivided attention for an hour. They’re used to teachers for whom it is often impractical to give significant individual attention and here I come, Suzy Sunshine ready to play games with them and even ask them what they would like to do. I’m excited about the possibilities that these activities will open up for the next school year. Burkinabé, though endlessly hospitable, are not particularly open, especially with a white foreigner. This makes it hard to tackle tough subjects, which I hope to do. “Empowering” these girls, for me, means giving them ideas and knowledge with which they can shape their own lives. To do this, we need to talk not only about making smart decisions, but what that really means – in other words, abstinence, safe sex, pregnancy, STDs, functioning and asserting themselves as females within a culture that often renders them impotent in everything from who they marry to how many children they have to whether they can leave their courtyard to go to the market. Challenging, to say the least…and I haven’t even begun to skim the surface.

At the secondary education level, I’ve identified two girls so far for the mentoring project I mentioned in the last entry. I’d like to get started as soon as possible, but the girls are troisieme (9th grade) students and are preparing for the BPEC, the exam they must pass to continue on in high school. The CEP, BPEC and BAC are the three major exams within the educational system, the BAC being the exam you must pass to receive a high school diploma and be eligible for university (like the SAT, only more comprehensive and difficult). The BAC is a rare achievement and even many teachers don’t have their BAC. Given their situation with the BPEC, I’ve asked the girls if they’ll be willing to work with me once a week during the four-month break to formulate the “curriculum” of activities and sensitizations they’ll do with the primary school girls. I also need to find a few more girls, but having two motivated, albeit timid, girls is a huge step.

I’ve got a few smaller projects in their infancy, but I’ll wait to report on those. I also await news regarding my Peace Corps Partnership funding application, and fear that it being a significant construction project and more costly than the average PCP project may render it untenable to the powers that be - cross your fingers for me.

So that’s the news as far as work is concerned. It gets easier and harder simultaneously. As I learn to navigate this culture and Burkina’s educational institutions, I identify more and more challenges and the climb only seems steeper. The consul and friendship of other volunteers is key here, as it provides an outlet and a sounding board for frustrations and fears, as well as a forum for idea exchange and support. We all want to move mountains, but we’re not even equipped to attempt hills. That said, I’d rather be here bumbling along and experiencing all that I am than sitting at a desk in front of a computer in the States. I tell myself that, no matter what, being here and trying and trying accomplishes something, even if it’s just to touch a few girls in the most superficial of ways – giving them respect and attention they wouldn’t otherwise receive.

On a lighter note, as the school year draws to a close, I’m preparing for exciting things. I’m planning a tentative trip in June with some fellow volunteers down through Togo, visiting volunteers there, and over to Ghana, where I’ll meet up with one of my absolute best friends in the world who will be working there for three months or so. The prospect of a familiar face is the best medicine I can imagine for the subtle but ever-present stress that living here produces. In July, I’m going to welcome my first visitor, another one of my closest friends, and look forward to sharing my "second home," with a non-Peace Corps volunteer (not to mention several weeks of conversation in English - hallelujah!).


So that's the news. It's hotter than Hades, as my dad would say. The temperature and humidity increase as the rainy season approaches. It's rained for a few minutes two or three times and we've had some relief in several recent overcast days, but, let me tell you, you don't truly understand hot until you've spent April in West Africa!



Hope you're all doing well.

'Til next time,

Chrissy



“…we may accept a limitation to our actions but never, under no circumstances, must we accept restriction on our thinking.”


- Chinua Achebe "Anthills of the Savannah"




A Picture



Beth and I enjoying a cold, tasty beverage on a recent bike trip from her village to Kompienga (70k round trip, done in a day), down near the Togo/Benin border.

Friday, April 13, 2007

Ny Taabo!

Africa tell me Africa
Is this you this back that is bent
This back that breaks under the weight of humiliation
This back trembling with red scars
And saying yes to the whip under the midday sun
But a grave voice answers me
Impetuous son, that tree young and strong
That tree there
In splendid loneliness amidst white and faded flowers
That is Africa your Africa
That grows again patiently obstinately
And its fruit gradually acquire
The bitter taste of liberty


David Diop, “Africa”


Hey, All -

I know what you're thinking..."back again, so soon?" Well, yeah. I'm here in Ouaga, revelling in the glory of a significantly air-conditioned room, taking temporary refuge from the unrelenting heat. I came into the city to submit my application for funding for a new classroom building for my village's junior/senior high school and to type up some work reports.

I thought I'd take the opportunity to share some pictures from my Easter adventures in village. I threw a rockin' par-tay for my friend Sali's baptism (lots of folks here are baptized or married on Easter weekend). The turnout was excellent - the bissap, zom kom, and dolo were flowing ( boiled hibiscus leaf juice, sweet beverage made from millet powder, and village brew, respectively) the riz gras was aplenty, as was the goat and we danced our socks off (ok, no socks were worn) 'til the wee hours. Villageois, fonctionnaires, two of my Peace Corps neighbors, young and old alike came out to celebrate Sali's now-official Catholocism and check out my sweet new digs (i.e. my most excellent new house). It was a fete to end all fetes...but I'll let you judge for yourself.




That's a lot of riz gras....


Village ladies filling up buckets of bissap, zom kom, and dolo



A group of male fonctionnaires (principals, teachers, etc.)
and Theo, my second-nearest PC neighbor


Three high school teachers and the primary education inspector


Friends


Les filles - some junior high girls who helped to serve guests and do dishes


Arnold, enjoying some riz gras



The girls - taking a break



Marcel, the president of the high school parents' association and Martine, his wife - good friends and my favorite couple in village. They're often referred to as "les amoureux" because they're love for one another is amazingly evident in a culture where egality and affection are typically taboo.



Adissa, a good friend, and a neighbor.




Aicha, adorably percocious and one of my favorite petites.




Two elementary school teachers from a neighboring village.



Me and Orelia, one of my volunteer neighbors - she biked a good 30k to visit.



Sali and I in front a my blackboard, which Orelia and I decorated festively. It says: "Happy Easter, Joyeuse Fete de Paques and Ny Taabo (Moore for "happy celebration")"


Yambila and me - this is "mam kiera" ("mon cheri") that I referred to in my last entry.


Balagissa and daughter, Michelline


Amisatu and Alima


Germaine (a teacher at my primary school) and daughter, Shakianatu



Neighbor girls and frequent visitors - they got the leftovers



Sali, dancing to traditional drumming - the drums are called "tam tams"

Orelia, dancing up a storm

Me, trying with little success to emulate traditional dance. In my village, if you dance well (or are a nasara who gives it a good try) they put money (5 or 10 cfa coins) on your back, as a neighbor is doing in the photo.

Kadi, getting her dance on



More drumming and dancing...



Amisatu dancing.


Sali and I in our Easter/baptism complets. The complets are covered in tiny crosses with large pictures of a a chalice and host that says "ceci mon corps, ceci mon sang (here is my body, here is my blood)." Somehow, here in West Africa, it's ok that I'm wearing this getup. Interestingly, Orelia, the volunteer neighbor who was visiting that weekend, is Unitarian Universalist, like myself. We figured that embracing Catholicism on Easter weekend was appropriate given our liberal religious roots.


Me and baby Michelline, seconds before she peed on me.
According to the ladies in village, this is good luck and means that I'll have lots of children.


So, there you have it. We partied like it was 2007.


Other than being the hostess with the mostest, I've been working on commencing with some new projects in village - a microenterprise/income-generating endeavor with some village ladies and a mentoring program between high school and primary school girls. I hope to have a group of 4 - 6 older high school girls to work with this summer. I'd like to collaborate with them to develop a curriculum that they'll facilitate with older primary-school girls beginning the next academic year. We'll cover everything from HIV/AIDS to "what's junior high really like?" to activities promoting responsible decision making and goal setting, etc. I hope,with their insights and input, to produce a document so that they will ultimately be able to not only facilitate the activities, but also train the next group of girls, thereby making the project sustainable and my participation unnecessary.


That's all I've got. Thanks for reading,


Chrissy





“The [Bush] administration also noted that U.S. aid to Africa “has almost tripled” during its tenure in the White House. But Steven Radelet, a senior fellow at the Center for Global Development in Washington, told the New York Times that American aid to Africa, totaling less than $5 a year per African is “About the same as what many Americans spend each morning for coffee and a bran muffin.” Most Americans believe that the United States spends 24 percent of its budget on poor countries, but the actual figure is less than one-quarter of one percent.”

- Charlayne Hunter-Gault, “New News Out of Africa: Uncovering Africa's Renaissance”