Update - 28 November 2007

I just made FIVE new posts (not including this one). Kindly, see below. I apologize for the delay!

Two more are coming soon from November 8 and November 12. If I get the chance I will put them up tomorrow.

My apologies that I do not have the energy to write up a general update here and now. But suffice it to say - all is well! And, thank you so much for being such supportive family, friends, and readers!

Much love,
Christina

An Uphill Battle

27 November 2007

It has taken me a full two months to get the word out to my defiant villagers: I AM LEARNING FULFULDE. Allow me to backtrack a little and explain.

If you have been following my blog, you may have noted that once I arrived in country I began learning Fulfulde: the language spoken by the nomadic Peuhl (Fr.) or Fulani (En.) people throughout the North of Burkina Faso. Well, despite the fact that I live in an almost entirely Peuhl region of the country (including Djibo), the people of my village, Béléhédé, are almost entirely Fulsi or Koromba. They speak Koronfe.

Honestly, this situation was extremely discouraging at first. I consulted with several people including Béléhédé's former volunteer (Sara), my school director, and Peace Corps. The consensus was that it was best to learn Fulfulde because, no matter what, all people in this region can speak that language. When I first got to village I was content to catch up with my solitude, read, clean, organize, cook, and settle in. But once I started leaving my house I realized that everyone seemed to believe that they obviously knew me, that we were already buddies, and that I would invariably greet them in their local language as if we were just old friends.

They expected of me what they perceived of Sara. Well, by the beginning of October, every time I left the house I went emotionally armed to battle one more day of my private war.

I would address a passer-by in Fulfulde. Or if I knew they spoke it well enough, French. Honestly, every single person would answer in Koranfe. I don't speak Koranfe. I am learning Fulfulde (said in French). Mi jangan Fulfulde (in Fulfulde). Every day someone would tell me I NEED to speak Koranfe; I MUST speak Koranfe; SARA spoke KORANFE; Sara spoke it REALLY well. I tried different tactics over time:

Strategy #1: Go with your gut.
Plan to face it another day. I took a leave of absence from learning and/or practicing any language that wasn't English. During this time I got by on my French and limited local language skills. I was gathering my strength and firming up my resolve.
Strategy #2: Get into it.
I started telling people what my deal was - I am learning Fulfulde, not Koranfe. On the one hand, I know laid useful groundwork for life in village by highlighting one major difference between myself and the former volunteer. This strategy was upfront and honest. I am strong, right? Good for me telling it like it is! Well, Strategy #2 also SUCKED. Every time I left my house I was getting into another fight. Big surprise - people don't like it when you tell them you are not interested in their language. Sigh.
Strategy #3: Defiance!
Oh my, I was very frustrated, things only seemed to be getting worse on the local language front. Not only was I fighting the not-good fight every day but I wasn't making ANY progress at all in local Fulfulde because at the end of the day I was emotionally exhausted. I ignored the people who relentlessly addressed me in Koranfe even when they looked me in the face. I felt - you KNOW I don't know what you are saying. I answered everyone in the little Fulfulde I could still muster.
Strategy #4: Acceptance
Finally, I think this is where I am at. But it is possible for me to be here because it seems to be where the villagers are "at" as well. We've reached a middle ground. I have relaxed and let my guard down. I am going with the flow and avoiding the trap of justifying myself to any and every person who passes me on the road. I've got a good two or three phrases down in Koranfe and everything else can at the least be muddled through with polite gestures and some French. I have a language tutor who is actually Fulsi (Koranfe-speaking) but is graciously instructing me in Fulfulde. She is also helping me integrate into the village. I finally have buy-in and acceptance from a few, kind, village friends.

So, the lesson is...

What is the lesson? Should I have had acceptance from the get go? Should one always just go with the flow? Actually, I don't think so. My first few months in village have been great but really frustrating at times too. Sometimes, I utterly did not want to leave my house. But I don't think I would change a thing. This is better than just getting what I wanted - I think I can see the top of the first hill.

Back to School

10 November 2007

For the past month or so, I have observed classes at the village school. There are 440 children in 6 grades with 6 teachers and 6 classrooms. The teachers are 3 men (including the director) and 3 women. The school was built by an NGO a few years ago and is therefore relatively new and very nice. The teachers instruct on all subjects, including phys ed, and classes run from 7:30 or 8:00 in the morning to 5:00 at night with a break in the morning and a three hour break for lunch.

Nonetheless, this elementary school system is very different from anything I have known. The largest class, let's call them fourth graders, numbers at almost 100 students in one packed classroom. The smallest class, only two years ahead of this one, has dwindled to 17 students. This reflects the fact that elementary students often repeat grades and drop out. In my sixth grade there are 6 girls and 11 boys.

It is even harder for these kids to move on to junior high than it is for them to reach sixth grade. In order to attend junior high, children must first pass an end-of-the-year exam. If they do not pass, they repeat sixth grade or drop out. If the child passes the exam, the father must find housing for the upcoming school year. The closest junior highs and high schools are 40 and 50 kilometers away. For fear of bad behavior among other things, it is unlikely for a village father to send his child, especially his daughter, on for more school.

When students read aloud in class, they identically sound as if they are chanting or singing. It makes me wonder if that's not how they learned to pray. The kids are not quick. They have trouble making simple connections. In the fifth grade class, for example, the students were doing a fill-in-the-blank exercise with only four blanks and four choices. But many students missed the objective; some students used the words from the instructions, like fill-in while others did not fill in anything at all.

When the teacher or any adult walks into the room, the kids all stand. When a teacher walks by them outside of class, they bow with their arms crossed and their arms their elbows bent out - think cross between pre-teen angst and I Dream of Genie. Bonjour, madame is barely audible. In fact, often the bonjours can't be heard at all as students mumble and hussle to bow inconspicuously behind teachers' backs.

To speak in the classrooms the kids raise their hands, snap, and cry moi, Monsieur, moi! When they speak they stand up but often double over their desks and sometimes wrap their arm(s) around their head and neck while squirming and mumbling. Girls are painfully shy and often silent in the classroom setting. Corporal punishment is illegal but the not-so-tacit understanding is that it happens everywhere, anyway. If you don't hit the kids, they will never listen and never pay you respect.

School was suppose to start on October 1st, nationwide. In major cities , it certainly did. In my village, the start date may as well have been in November. The first day that more than 10 kids arrived on the premises was October 22nd and the teachers probably started new lessons in earnest around November 1st. Children were too busy, prior, helping their families with the harvest. At this time of year, working hands are indispensable. Plus, there were weeds four feet high covering all the space in front of the school. Classes could not start until the children cleared this space. Otherwise, they would be in danger of bites from snakes.