Saturday, September 5, 2009

Village Life after Swear-In: Ahhhhh :)

September 2, 2009

By tomorrow evening I'll have been in village for one week. That may not sound like much to you, but thinking back, I was sitting at home in my living room with the ones I love, my family, less than 3 months ago. And now, I'm in a small village in the southwest of Burkina Faso, a west African country I honestly didn't even know existed until about 10 months ago.

I survived 11 weeks of training and was happy that it changed significantly halfway through, because I was growing weary of it. Since I'm here to teach secondary education, the Peace Corps smartly worked in a 4 week Model School where we, the future Bukinabé teachers, taught for one hour every day, 5 days a week for the first 2 weeks before trying some 2 hour classes during the second 2 week period. I taught PC, physique et chimie (physics and chemistry) to quatrième (US equivalent to 9th grade) during the first 2 weeks and then switched over to teaching SVT, science de la vie et du terre (biology and earth science depending on the level) to sixième (US equivalent to 7th grade). It was often a struggle, but it was great practice. So, I completed my cross-cultural training, medical training where they focus on self sufficiency and prevention, and safety and security training in addition to the obvious technical training. I passed all of our exams for each section and I felt prepared, but did not want to continue. I had gotten comfortable in my training city, I grew to love the most amazing host family anyone could ever hope for, and I had gotten close with many of my fellow trainees aka stagiaires. None of that mattered, because it was time to move on. I came here for a reason and I just got through the beginning of it, the preparation part.

We traveled as a group to Ouagadougou to spend a few days, attend our final administration sessions, and be sworn-in as official volunteers. The day of Swear-in and those few days in Ouaga for that matter are a blur. Time passed so quickly and before I knew it I was in Bobo for a night and then in my village the following evening. At Swear-in I was honored to give a speech in French, an honor that only became mine after my fellow trainee, MS, was too busy to write it and was more than willing to give it to me. I had never given a speech before and never actually thought myself capable, until now that is. I got a good idea from the person I'm in love with and ran with it. That idea actually helped set the theme of my speech, time. Looking back on it I've already changed, because a few months ago I would either not have wanted to write the speech or I never would have considered myself able. Anyways, I got the idea for the speech and put it on paper or computer, went over it with one of our language trainers who helped correct the grammar and word choice so the right sense came across and then ended up sitting next to trainee J who would be speaking in Mooré the night of swear-in after I started off with French. I was a bundle of nerves, but after stumbling over two words I managed to get myself under control, to speak slowly and clearly so everyone could understand me. Afterall, I had written the speech for my fellow stagiaires, so I wanted them to hear it. It went well. Who knew I could actually speak in public without shaking the entire time, passing our, or stuttering throughout an entire speech. And the best part was that everyone who got sworn in with me, enjoyed the speech, so that made my night.

I forced myself to hang out with the recently sworn-in volunteers and the others who I had gotten to know through their participation with our training because I knew this would be the last time for a while, possibly forever, when we would all be together like that.

The next morning I hopped in a taxi that MF, an amazing volunteer who has helped me more than I can say, helped setup, and ended up at the bus gare to leave on the 7am bus. Five hours later I was eating lunch in Bobo talking to MF about how and where to get housing supplies and what the prices should be. R, another recently sworn-in volunteer, joined us a few hours later and the three of us did some shopping. That day I got a huge bucket of white paint and four little containers of colored paint along with many basic kitchen and housing supplies like forks, spoons, knives, cutting board, clothing pins, strainer, etc. The fun part came the following day after V, our driver, dropped us off at the marché to haggle our way into more supplies. I dropped a lot of necessary money that day getting a marmite for my dutch oven (you put sand and three small empty cans in the bottom of a big mettle bot that looks like something whiches would use to brew up something wonderful and literally use this to bake things), 6 pots (now I didn't actually need 6, but they came that way, so ça va aller), a cantine or trunk, a small empty gas container with a circular metal contraption on top used for cooking, hammer, nails, broom, dustpan, 3 pieces of nice African artwork from the father of the son who helped us out a lot that day, tamis (filters used for straining or drying fruit: they are made of cloth or metal and stuck in between circular pieces of metal or wood; they fit the shape of a tambourine without the bells, just closed off with metal or cloth in the center for filtering)... I also bought a bag's worth of fruit that I hoped would at least last me through the week (pineapple, apples, oranges, papaya which I didn't get to enjoy because it went moldy, and a mango).

September 3, 2009

Deep breath: I've been in village a week and survived. Today I went through a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. There is so much downtime in village, especially prior to the beginning of school. Most days consist primarily of sitting and thinking, especially when you don't speak Jula and you spend time sitting with groups of women who only speak Jula and minimal if any French.

To say this has been an easy journey thus far would be incorrect. And to expect it to breeze by without a car would be naïve. I know many question whether they could become a volunteer and stick with it for the entire 2 years of service plus training. Other than with extenuating circumstances pulling someone home and forcing them to ET (early terminate) I suppose it all depends on the person. What are your reasons for being here? Also, expectations play a large role. If you expect it to be easy and simple, you're in for a rocky ride and a big surprise. Like any day in life, you will have your ups and down and I've already learned this being in Burkina for almost 3 months and only 1 week in my village. I don't think it's whether or not you can do this type of service as much as it's can you handle the challenges and surprises and then bounce back from them and react in such a way that only makes you and your impact stronger. I thought before and still feel now that this experience will have a stronger impact on my life than on the lives of others, but I fully intend on doing all I can to make a difference and to change the lives and mindsets of those around me for the better. This doesn't mean putting North American morale into the minds of the Burkinabé; what it means is that I hope to provide tools and skills that will affect and help those around me long after I'm gone by having sensibalizations an AIDS, what it means and how it's contracted, to teach mothers how to make bouillie that actually has a nutritional value so their babies and children are growing up better nourished and thriving, to force my students to think critically possibly for the first time in the education and maybe in their lives, and to force my students and those around me to consider things they hadn't before, such as first to notice that there are major differences between the treatment of males and females here (unjustly I might add) and then question why they exist and maybe even how they can be changed. I may not be able to change the world like many who join the Peace Corps hope to do, but I can make a dent, I can make an impact, and that is why this grassroots method and organization is so powerful.

I'm not sure how to segway our of that, so I'm going to make an awkward transition here. I'm also apologizing in advance for what is probably not very good writing, but I don't have the time to edit all I'm writing, so this is a first draft where my only aim is to get across some thoughts and ideas in a somewhat coherent fashion.

That being said, here goes: I asked a few current volunteers who have been here a year already advice for my first month at site and D, one of my closest neighbors told me not to be too hard on myself. That advice has served me well. This week has both crawled and sped by. Looking back on it, from a North American perspective, one would argue that I haven't done much, but then they wouldn't be looking closely enough. Yes, I too, worry that I wasted time and that I barely did anything and that I feel as though I sat around a lot, slept, ate, and repeated the cycle, and those times I did walk around a bit were short and slow. But, I painted my house (both little rooms to make them more homey and comfortable, because I will be spending 2 years of my life here), I got a start on organizing my things so I am no longer living out of bags and suitcases, I learned how to get bread, eggs, and vegetables in village, I met our carpenter and already plan on having new furniture arriving in the near future, I walked around our marché and learned that it is much larger than I originally thought during my site visit, I met several village kids and made good friends with one little girl, BT, who has taken to me already, I took the time to sit with a couple different groups of women on a few different occasions just to pass the time and get to know them in a way much different than I've ever gotten to know anyone (without a common language and culture, you're forced to look at things and respond to things differently).

When V drove away last Thursday, I didn't secretly wish him to turn around and come back, I didn't get a flood of anxiety and emotion, I went with it. Plus, my homologue, O, was around, so I already knew someone. It wasn't until the following day after he told me he wants me to teach 6 classes, 23 hours a week for at least the first trimester, that he also mentioned he was going to Bobo and wouldn't be back for two weeks – so much for comfort. Did I also mention that 2 of these classes are for troisième students. Now this is the US equivalent of 9th grade if I haven't said that already, but more importantly, after troisième the students need to take and pass the BEPC which is an exam that allows them to continue on to lycée (high school) and hopefully eventually get all the way to college, after taking and passing another exam, the BAC, after finishing terminale (senior year equivalent). The reason this is stressful is because my teaching will have a large impact on what my students will learn and therefore on how well they will do on the exam or rather how prepared or unprepared they will be. Needless to say I want them to do well, so I'm up to the challenge if need be, I'm just a little stressed.

I would like to point out that other than the temperature difference between the north, the southwest is also much prettier with much more greenery. There was a moment today when I was filled with anxiety and I was walking down the main road in my village and I looked ahead to see green everywhere: trees, some hills, absolutely gorgeous and I thought, how could I be anxious looking at this? I'm blessed and I'm very thankful for it.

My job now is to continue to settle in and integrate into my community for the next month. By mid September I will start attending sessions and meetings for school and by October 1st, secondary school will be in full swing and I will be teaching up to 6 classes a week. I will do this for 3 trimesters and finish sometime in May, I believe, but lets not get ahead of ourselves.

Until next time.