11 July 2007

Reach out your hand if your cup be empty, if your cup is full may it be again.

We had our first rain! While it made transport impossible for part of the day, it was really nice to hear the pitter patter on the roof of my house and feel the cool breeze.

A few of us in the area got together for my birthday and we did it up in random Gambia style including giving out a bunch of pieces of date flavored cake, finding a bakery and chatting with the bakers, and greeting endless people. Thanks to all who made it great.

After talking with the others I have come to the conclusion that many of us are working on vastly different scales emotionally and work related. While my biggest problems are crying children making me go insane, others are dealing with issues of human rights violations. While my work is focused on the microscopic level of a few classes others are reaching out to their entire community. Not that one approach is necessarily better than the other, but I do admire those who are able to survive despite unbelievable challenges. One of the best aspects of my service has been meeting other PCVs who represent that group.

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At the end of each school year every school in The Gambia holds an event called something like the Speech and Prize Giving Ceremony. It's sort of a combination of graduation speeches, variety talent shows, and sporting MVP awards. After a prolonged final exams schedule, we finally closed the books on our own 2006-2007 school year, and were finally able to hold our Speech and Prize Giving Ceremony.

The ceremony took place inside of the school's assembly ground, which consist of a large open space, about half the size of a football field and covered in dusty dirt, and a concrete stage, about half the size of a basketball court and covered in cracks and chipped blocks. Corrugate tin shades the activities on stage, and there is a walled in backstage area for all sorts of costume changes, final preparations, and special guest speakers.

The audience section is made more cozy with a huge brown mustard colored tarp that hangs lazily on rusted metal girders, and in the gusting winds it shakes and creaks but does not give way. The waning metal support does its job the entire day, and the otherwise menacing wind is tamed into a natural air conditioner. Benefactors of the breeze sit under the tarp and metal on weathered steel and wood chairs, recently taken from the classrooms which served students all year long.

This sketch is how I, the teaching staff, administrators, students, Kaddy, Amee, and Buba found the assembly grounds on the 7th of July, 2007.

Harmony through contrasts is how I might describe the attendees. Like I've always written, my area of The Gambia is a mix of both cultures; traditionally rural and rapidly Westernizing. Here were old men serious in their traditional flowing gowns, children in dirty ripped clothing, students in black and white school uniforms, the vice principal wearing Indiana University crimson colored suit and tie, graduating senior girls in jeans, teenage boys in football jerseys, and a full range of other people that filled out the circus of colors.

The highlight of the day was surely the play by the hidden jem of the school, our drama society. I had no idea how dedicated, sharp, witty, literate, and energetic this group is, and I simply have to try and get involved in their activities come next school year.

The play itself was about the morality of commitment to marriage. Subplots of gossiping sisters and mothers led to messages of a live and let live mentality which is rarely seen in The Gambia, parents word and advice is paramount. Written by students under the supervision of the vice principal, the play included a whole host of local characters, caricatured just enough to make the whole thing absolutely hilarious. These included a local medicinal healer, a group of old men serving as the village council, a couple of bumsters, and a lot of crying children. Humor makes the serious light hearted enough to openly talk and discuss without compromising the reality of the issue at hand. The whole thing reminded me so much of the power of a well used stage when performing to an illiterate audience.

In particular this drama brought up a whole host of social taboos that I rarely, if ever in my year here, have seen or heard openly discussed. These included the following, with notes in parenthesis as to what I take the social norm to be:

> Kissing on both cheeks to show love. (Kissing in public or any affection shown seems strictly verboten.)
> A wife defending herself and fighting back. (It seems men have all the power in relationships.)
> Polygamy as something to consider economically and emotionally. (Traditionally it is a status symbol.)
> Cheating on a spouse. (As in the States, I think this happens behind closed doors, but obviously is not talked about.)
> Concern for a child's mental health. (Rather than beating as a universal solution to any problem.)
> Marabous as ancient healers who are not as relevant today. (They are transitioning as confidence in Western medicine grows.)

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Drawing circles. Who knew this could be the magical first step to teaching the kids to hold a pencil well. Admittedly it was only the first step into the labyrinth, but it was an important first step none-the-less. I've been trying for months to get the kids to work with some sort of structure with a pen and paper, and after much discussion with other volunteers (Thanks Rachel, Becca, and Colleen!) I had the students following baic shapes including circles, lines, and squigglys (Yes, that's a word now.) The big road block before that had been simply giving them the confidence that they could do it, meaning holding the pen in their hands and literally guiding their hand in mine through the motion. Mentally, the feeling that they couldn't write is the result of years of hearing, "This boy, he isn't able, he cannot" which is sort of the local way of saying he hasn't had any schooling on it. All the kids need is some positive reinforcement. I also realized I've always had backup support waiting to be called upon in the form of two older brothers (10 and 11ish years old) who can draw well. Their example and skill creates a healthy dose of competition between them that radiates to the younger kids and gives them something to aspire to.

Amee's favorite thing to draw the past few days has been a simple car. He's able to do the wheels and some of the bottom frame by himself, but I usually have to help him complete the top half of the vehicle. It's a bit testing to draw the same thing time and time again, but I couldn't be happier than to guide his hands through another door handle, glass window, or trunk.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

Let us know when/if you run out of crayons and drawing stuff!