“The chief put my goat in jail and I need some money to get it out,” said my neighbor, Musa. Until this point a couple months ago, my front and back yards constantly smelled like shit. Goat shit to be exact. Needless to say, I couldn't have been happier with this new form of animal justice sweeping through Bauya, or more surprised that I turned conservative after moving to Africa (hyperbole, exageration, lie, etc.). Orwellian! you say? Anthropocentrism! you accuse? Maybe so, but every time you leave a chair unattended does it turn into the local bathroom? Didn't think so. *Update* I'm currently helping them draft similar legislation that will lock up the chickens, pigs, ducks, and turkeys.
I was on my way to Moyamba last weekend to collect the first transfer of donation money. After three and a half hours of waiting for a vehicle at the junction, an NGO truck finally pulled up. Remember those commercials where a driver would pull over to a DUI checkpoint, and when the driver got out, a pool of booze spilled out of his/her car and the cop said, “Busted!”. Picture the same thing but with an NGO vehicle and a deluge of palm wine. For a brief moment, all I could think was, “So this is safer than that motorcycle over there?” But considering it was the only vehicle that had passed through my village all day, I was in no position to turn down a free ride in the party-mobile. And obviously, the ride to Moyamba was awesome. The palm wine was flowing, the music was loud, and new friends were made.
At the bank I withdrew enough money to pay five teachers for the next two months as well as put down a deposit for a variety of tools we will be using to start the School Farm Project. To spread the business around as much as possible, we are splitting the work between the local blacksmith and an organization in Moyamba called the Able and Disabled Center. The founder, an inspiring man named Santigi (I know, great name right?), started a metalwork shop whose mission is to provide training, limited housing, and work for the physically disabled in Moyamba. Wonderful guy, wonderful organization, and a pleasure to do business with. We are now in the planning phase for the school farm. Our agriculture teachers along with project coordinator are figuring out what we want to plant, where to get seeds (we're hoping for a community contribution), and the planting schedule. Watching the teachers work with such renewed vigor makes me indescribably appreciative to be the conduit between your hard-earned money and these happy, hard-working people I am lucky enough to call my friends.
If you haven't donated to our cause yet, please, right now is the perfect opportunity to make a significant impact in the lives of some amazing human beings. We can pay a teacher for a year with $420, or for a month with $35. We can buy the zinc needed for the roof of a library for $250. I promise you that we are working our butts off over here to ensure that any and every dollar contributed is being put to excellent use. https://www.wepay.com/donate/15581
Another way you can contribute without giving a dime is by helping me with the following problem: through the incredible generosity of my friends and family, we have raised enough money to pay for two years worth of salaries for five unpaid teachers. That is an amazing feat and one that should be applauded, but the problem is that it's not sustainable; it will take continuous outside contributions until the government is able to pay all of its teachers. I'm looking for a way to make this project sustainable, perhaps through agriculture, perhaps another way. Irregardless, the solution is above my pay grade. I'm hoping that someone out there has an idea, or a contact in sustainable development who might have an idea. Right now, this would be even better than money.
On a sad note, my host mom, the woman who opened her home to me for three months during my training last year, died last month. I have been to far more funerals here than I had in my whole life back home, but for obvious reasons, this was much more personal. Mama Makiu was a badass in every sense of the word. Her husband died about 10 years ago and her only daughter lives in the capital teaching in a secondary school; but that didn't stop her from housing eight children who are distant relatives as well as her best friend, a blind woman named Aunty Chris. The only thing bigger and louder than Mama's bark was her capacity for love, and I will remain eternally grateful for her hospitality, immense knowledge, and unconditional kindness. I miss her every day. All that sadness aside, what this culture does really well is grieve and then move forward, but without ever forgetting. The forty day ceremony is a Muslim tradition adopted here by Christians as well, and it is a great experience. Tons of food, great music, and everyone sitting around sharing stories and remembering the life of a uniquely loved woman. The process of death and bereavement in any culture is worth studying because you can learn so much about a culture from the way they handle it. Not surprisingly, Sierra Leoneans handle it very well.
We finally started school this week, and only three weeks after the originally scheduled start date!! All kidding aside, it's going really well. Shockingly well. I would love to hug the person who made Peace Corps a two year program. You spend the first year as close to drowning as you ever want to be in your life, but your second year water skiing. It's amazing. The school appears to be operating much better, which could be a result of teachers receiving a fair wage for their work, but also could be my outlook. The students are behaving like civilized human beings, which could be the result of us drafting and distributing a Pupil Code of Conduct, but again, it could be that my outlook has simply changed. My best guess is that it's a combination of all those things as well as the beautiful realization that, while I don't think you can every be fully integrated without spending many many years somewhere, simply put, I'm comfortable here. This is home.
Peace and Love,
Brandon
Friday, October 14, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
It's All Happening
Saying we were nervous about seeing our parents for the first time in a year is a whopper of an understatement, but luckily, Hannah, Katie, Evan and I had Sierra Leone's own Star beer to ease us into it. My mom and Denny were here for one phenomenal week and, though they left nearly three weeks ago, I can't walk around without every other person requesting their exact location and state of health. They kept on calling their experience here a blessing, and while I have on occasion found their language a tad dramatic (just a tad, and mom you know I love you!), they nailed it this time. I try to the best of my ability to write out how special this experience is, and how charming and warm the culture is, and how freaking beautiful it is around here; but being able to actually prove to my parents (and maybe myself too) that I am truly excelling at living just by being here is something I will never forget.
And speaking of things I won't soon forget, a gigantic thank you to Mark Liu, Carla Reed, and the folks at WePay.com for all their hard work on Completed Project #2: the St. Peter's website!! It is our hope to raise money for projects we're working on as well as let everyone back home get a little glimpse of life in Bauya.
We're currently beginning the groundwork on three projects that will pay teachers, build a library, and improve the students' farming skills. The great thing about these projects is that they have not only been the idea of the administration and staff of St. Peter's, but the projects and budgets have been written by my principal. It was and is my belief that the only way I would ever get involved in secondary projects is if I am nothing but a supporting figure in the background, a link between the school and the money.
I mention this because if we can accomplish these projects, and that's an enormous if based on the amount of funds required, it will be because the principal and staff of St. Peter's, the local stakeholders, and the community at large made it happen. Our goal is to both improve the quality of education and give the gift of education to the children of a once-great nation, and to aid them in returning it to its former greatness. The children of Sierra Leone were born into their situation, they did not create it. But they're the only ones who can transform it, so let's help them:
http://stpetersbauya.org
THANK YOU!!
And speaking of things I won't soon forget, a gigantic thank you to Mark Liu, Carla Reed, and the folks at WePay.com for all their hard work on Completed Project #2: the St. Peter's website!! It is our hope to raise money for projects we're working on as well as let everyone back home get a little glimpse of life in Bauya.
We're currently beginning the groundwork on three projects that will pay teachers, build a library, and improve the students' farming skills. The great thing about these projects is that they have not only been the idea of the administration and staff of St. Peter's, but the projects and budgets have been written by my principal. It was and is my belief that the only way I would ever get involved in secondary projects is if I am nothing but a supporting figure in the background, a link between the school and the money.
I mention this because if we can accomplish these projects, and that's an enormous if based on the amount of funds required, it will be because the principal and staff of St. Peter's, the local stakeholders, and the community at large made it happen. Our goal is to both improve the quality of education and give the gift of education to the children of a once-great nation, and to aid them in returning it to its former greatness. The children of Sierra Leone were born into their situation, they did not create it. But they're the only ones who can transform it, so let's help them:
http://stpetersbauya.org
THANK YOU!!
Sunday, May 15, 2011
The Poda Poda Blues
The next time you crack open a delicious can of tuna for lunch, I want you to imagine the following: picture squeezing yourself into said can and sitting down in it. Just when you're the most uncomfortable you've ever been in your entire life, picture your two best friends wedging themselves on either side of you and shoving their goat under your feet. Now, for good measure, have the neighborhood kids play kick-the-can with your “vehicle” for a few hours. Congratulations, you've just traveled in a Poda Poda in West Africa, the only means of transportation we Peace Corps Volunteers are permitted to use. All it takes is one trip in either the front seat, where any sudden slamming of the breaks and your kissing dirt potholes, or the back seat, where you're sure to spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair if you get rear-ended, to know that the only thing this could possibly be a “safer option” than is a Humvey in Afghanistan (sorry Afghanistan, I know, cheap shot). Either way, as I play sardine in the back seat of a Poda Poda and watch everyone on motorcycles zooming by with their hair majestically waving in the wind, I ponder the irony that being flexible sometimes doesn't actually allow you to move at all.
I promise, I'm almost done bitching, but first, allow me to catch you up on the goings-on of the last five or so months since I've last written. January through March sucked. I spent most of the time being sad, pissed, bitter, and generally resenting everything about Sierra Leone and my situation here. Good news though...it passed! Apparently, it's referred to as “cultural fatigue,” and just about all of us were suffering from it at the same time. Just when you think you've successfully navigated your way through culture shock and are totally integrated and have mastered living in Africa, cultural fatigue sets in. It makes you irritable, grouchy, and downright unpleasant to be around, but thankfully, it does pass. The cool part though is that just when I was at my lowest, I would force myself to get out and walk around, and invariably, without fail, something really cool would happen. Someone would feed me, talk to me and make me laugh, or even just say hello; but no matter what, someone in Bauya would always make me feel at home.
Next came April, a fascinating month. School was, for all intents and purposes, shut down for a month in preparation of a two day sports extravaganza that happens at most schools in the country once a year. I actually had it pretty good on account of my principal being fantastically driven and willing, almost eager, to piss people off in order to accomplish his mission- to teach. Some of my colleagues didn't teach in March either, giving these overachievers what I would have called an extended spring break, but what they called torture. Most of them far surpass me as a teacher though, so I suppose their reaction is not surprising. But needless to say, the St. Peter's Sportstravaganza was AWESOME. It was fantastically refreshing to see the kids doing something they enjoy doing instead of doing something they're forced to do, and selfishly, it was nice not being seen as the Mussolini of my school and show the kids that I like to have fun too, just not while I'm trying to impart in them the grammatical nuances of the gerund. Next year's project will be to see if I can get them to squeeze sports preparation in after school and at night so that we can teach a little in Term 2 as well.
Good news, the rainy season has arrived!! My God it's been hot. Too hot to write a blog, that's for sure. Typical dry season though, it just can't let go. It keeps coming back hotter and meaner than ever, but the respite that the rain provides is truly rejuvenating. The beginning of the rain season also means it's plating season. This weekend was spent clearing and plowing my mini-farm on the land behind my house. I'm planting corn and okra in the back, and the cassava and potato leaf on the side of my house. Also very exciting is that due to my method of planting flowers (throw as many seeds as possible everywhere in the front of the house), it looks like a botanical garden puked in my front yard. A fun cultural difference I've discovered is found in the way we look at things like flowers and plants. For example, my neighbors call them weeds and keep trying to get me to burn it all to the ground. “Fat chance,” I say. “Enjoy the snakes,” they retort. As usual, they win, but until a snake bites me, I'm going to enjoy the hell out of my garden.
I'm currently developing a few projects with my principal, who is lighting it up. We've already accomplished the renovation of the school and a few weeks ago attended a signing ceremony at the US Embassy in Freetown to secure funding for a toilet project (surprisingly, not a shitty project at all...hiyo!). The digging has begun for a staff toilet, and we will be refurbishing the student toilet as well. In addition, we have three pretty big projects in the pipeline which I am eager to share the details of, but we want to put a few things in place first.
I'm looking forward to Term 3, mostly because it couldn't possibly be worse than Term 2, but also because I feel like I've learned a lot and am significantly more prepared to deal with the trials and tribulations of teaching. What it's looking like this experience is boiling down to is that academic year one was not a complete wash, but it's just so different that what I expected and what I experienced as a student. Year two, however, is going to be a whole different ball game. My principal and I are already working on a Code of Conduct for both students as well as teachers, and were planning a teacher in-service training. Our preparation is going to be much better which should lead to a much more productive and successful school year next year...inshallah.
Well unfortunately my time is out, but even more unfortunately for you I'll be writing again soon with a summary of our project proposals. As always, thank you for your love and support, it is felt.
Be Well,
Surba
I promise, I'm almost done bitching, but first, allow me to catch you up on the goings-on of the last five or so months since I've last written. January through March sucked. I spent most of the time being sad, pissed, bitter, and generally resenting everything about Sierra Leone and my situation here. Good news though...it passed! Apparently, it's referred to as “cultural fatigue,” and just about all of us were suffering from it at the same time. Just when you think you've successfully navigated your way through culture shock and are totally integrated and have mastered living in Africa, cultural fatigue sets in. It makes you irritable, grouchy, and downright unpleasant to be around, but thankfully, it does pass. The cool part though is that just when I was at my lowest, I would force myself to get out and walk around, and invariably, without fail, something really cool would happen. Someone would feed me, talk to me and make me laugh, or even just say hello; but no matter what, someone in Bauya would always make me feel at home.
Next came April, a fascinating month. School was, for all intents and purposes, shut down for a month in preparation of a two day sports extravaganza that happens at most schools in the country once a year. I actually had it pretty good on account of my principal being fantastically driven and willing, almost eager, to piss people off in order to accomplish his mission- to teach. Some of my colleagues didn't teach in March either, giving these overachievers what I would have called an extended spring break, but what they called torture. Most of them far surpass me as a teacher though, so I suppose their reaction is not surprising. But needless to say, the St. Peter's Sportstravaganza was AWESOME. It was fantastically refreshing to see the kids doing something they enjoy doing instead of doing something they're forced to do, and selfishly, it was nice not being seen as the Mussolini of my school and show the kids that I like to have fun too, just not while I'm trying to impart in them the grammatical nuances of the gerund. Next year's project will be to see if I can get them to squeeze sports preparation in after school and at night so that we can teach a little in Term 2 as well.
Good news, the rainy season has arrived!! My God it's been hot. Too hot to write a blog, that's for sure. Typical dry season though, it just can't let go. It keeps coming back hotter and meaner than ever, but the respite that the rain provides is truly rejuvenating. The beginning of the rain season also means it's plating season. This weekend was spent clearing and plowing my mini-farm on the land behind my house. I'm planting corn and okra in the back, and the cassava and potato leaf on the side of my house. Also very exciting is that due to my method of planting flowers (throw as many seeds as possible everywhere in the front of the house), it looks like a botanical garden puked in my front yard. A fun cultural difference I've discovered is found in the way we look at things like flowers and plants. For example, my neighbors call them weeds and keep trying to get me to burn it all to the ground. “Fat chance,” I say. “Enjoy the snakes,” they retort. As usual, they win, but until a snake bites me, I'm going to enjoy the hell out of my garden.
I'm currently developing a few projects with my principal, who is lighting it up. We've already accomplished the renovation of the school and a few weeks ago attended a signing ceremony at the US Embassy in Freetown to secure funding for a toilet project (surprisingly, not a shitty project at all...hiyo!). The digging has begun for a staff toilet, and we will be refurbishing the student toilet as well. In addition, we have three pretty big projects in the pipeline which I am eager to share the details of, but we want to put a few things in place first.
I'm looking forward to Term 3, mostly because it couldn't possibly be worse than Term 2, but also because I feel like I've learned a lot and am significantly more prepared to deal with the trials and tribulations of teaching. What it's looking like this experience is boiling down to is that academic year one was not a complete wash, but it's just so different that what I expected and what I experienced as a student. Year two, however, is going to be a whole different ball game. My principal and I are already working on a Code of Conduct for both students as well as teachers, and were planning a teacher in-service training. Our preparation is going to be much better which should lead to a much more productive and successful school year next year...inshallah.
Well unfortunately my time is out, but even more unfortunately for you I'll be writing again soon with a summary of our project proposals. As always, thank you for your love and support, it is felt.
Be Well,
Surba
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