Sunday, December 7, 2008
Fete Preparation
Just wanted to let you all know that Tabaski is coming up tomorrow!!! Everyone is so excited and so am I!! Apparently its the biggest fete of the year. Ill give more details later! A plus tard!
Story Time
SCORPION
I briefly mentioned in a previous entry that I had seen a snake by my latrine. Well wild creature number two is a scorpion. I’m hoping that this is the last one I’ll have to ass to the list.
I briefly mentioned in a previous entry that I had seen a snake by my latrine. Well wild creature number two is a scorpion. I’m hoping that this is the last one I’ll have to ass to the list.
Every Friday morning I take my 10k bike ride into the city to do my food shopping for the week and buy whatever random things I might need. About 3 weeks ago in my morning preparation before leaving for Kan Kan I had just finished bathing and dressing and was cleaning up a little. I had wiped down the furniture, swept and then went to put my worn night clothes in the laundry bag located in a corner behind my bed in between my two trunks and the wall of my hut. As I lifted up the bag, out of the corner of my eye I saw something move underneath. I looked down and sure enough there was a black scorpion about the length of the palm of my hand. My heat sank to the back o f chest, because this could turn into an ugly situation. Some scorpions are poisonous.
I was scared out of my mind, but I had to do something. So I grabbed my broomstick (this seems to be my weapon of choice. lol) and gave the scorpion a little push with the bristles, just as a test to see how fast it moves. Much to my surprise he barely moved. Maybe he was sick or something. I dunno. Anyway, because he barely moved I was thinking to myself maybe I can make this easy on myself and just step on him to kill him. But then my common sense kicked in, which obviously had been momentarily turned off while I thought of the brilliant idea of stepping on a live scorpion. He could sting me through my shoe.
I had to come up with plan B. So I thought to myself maybe I can push him into a can or something and drown him or throw him down my latrine hole. At the time is sounded like a magnificent idea, so I took one of my finished oatmeal cans, which was just wide enough that I could just push him in quickly. With my broomstick and can in hand I slowly approached the scorpion. I guess he found some strength from within because this time when I touched him with the bristles he scurried away. Therefore I proceeded to scurry out my front door. J
It was time to think of plan C. It would have to involve more people. So I called my nearest petite, Ningke the 5 year old, and acted out what I had just seen. He looked at me a little sideways and then smiled I guess thinking we were playing a game or something. But he figured it out. His mom was the only adult around, so I was thinking to myself , she can help me kill this thing. I showed them into my hut where the scorpion was hiding. She kind of stood there for a while and then she realized that I needed help. So she handed me a stick from outside and watched from the doorway while I was jumped around screaming trying to kill this thing. I had no luck, it was too fast. I went back outside and waited a couple minutes and thank God my host dad had arrived from the fields within five minutes. Sure enough he would save me. (and he did.) With a joint effort me with the flashlight flashing under the bed and him with the stick he was able to kill the scorpion. By the time the killing was finished I was waiting outside to see the dead scorpion. He brought it outside and explained to me that, there was no need to worry because that was a big scorpion and therefore less poisonous. I didn’t really care. A scorpion is a scorpion in my eyes, regardless of size, and I was just happy it was dead. I don’t know what I would have done without him.
SMOKING PETITES
As you all know I have five wonderful petites that live next door to me. I love them to death but somedays they drive me crazy. Like most kids they have tons of neighborhood friends that come over to play during the day. Sometimes they roll tires down the street with a stick (that’s a children’s favorite here. It’s so cute.) or the game of the day is let’s sit outside Madame’s house and see if we can get her to open her door for us.
This particular day I had just come back from school and had gone in my hut to chill out and eat before heading to my review session. I noticed on my way in the kids were sitting outside my door with a friend. So I said hi and gave hi five’s like a usually do and went inside to start cooking.
After about 30 minutes with my door shut I heard my kids saying “Madame! Madame!” like they usually do if my door is closed longer than 30 min. Usually I ignore them because all I want to do is eat and chill out in peace (I sound like the Grinch. lol) but for whatever reason I decided to check to see what the hype was all about. So I open my door, and in front of me I see my 4 year old petite, Ningké inhaling a cigarette. And Papissce the 8 year old was holding a lit cigarette in his hand. I ALMOST HAD A HEART ATTACK!!! I stepped outside snatched the cigarettes and smashed them under my feet and yelled “ C’est pas bon!!” since that’s the only thing they understand in French. They looked at me kind of bewildered but I thought I had made myself pretty clear. I didn’t think to check to see if there was more, and I thought the situation was resolved, so I went back into my hut to continue what I was doing.
Within 5 minutes I hear an insane amount of coughing coming from outside. I immediately knew that they had tried again. I opened up my door and Ningké was about to cough up his lung.
Papisse got the message the first time and was now pointing fingers as to who was to blame. I was floored. The friend had a pack of cigarettes in his hand. How they lit them, I have no idea. Clearly they didn’t understand the severity of smoking, so it was time for another game of sherades or more like a theatrical presentation where I had to demonstrate what would happen if they continued to smoke. Of course it was exaggerated but they got the point.
The other day I was walking down the street with Ningké and there was a
cigarette butt on the ground. He picked it up and showed it too me and said, “C’est pas bon,” in his little voice and shook his head.
For those of you that might be wondering how the kids were able to get a hold of a pack of cigarettes and light them, it’s because there is no garbage disposal system here. All garbage is thrown and left in the streets so it is highly likely that the kids just found it on the ground and then lit them by a cooking fire that was going near by.
BARACK OBAMA
I’m sure you all are still on a high about the recent results of the presidential election. It’s
definitely a historical moment for all of America to celebrate and be proud of. I can not even begin to describe to you how elated I was to hear the news.
Anyway, I’m not sure what they’ve been showing you all on the news about the international response to Barack Obama, but if you didn’t know, you know now that Africa loves Barack
Obama; and Guinea, just as much as any other. Every time someone talks to me here, it is guaranteed that Barack Obama will come up in conversation. Sometimes when I walk the streets of Kan Kan people that know I’m American just yell BARAAACCCKKK OOBAAAAMMMMAAA! And then I just giggle to myself and yell BARAAACKKK OOBAAMMAAA back. It’s hilarious.
A couple weekends before the election day I was invited by one of my colleagues to attend a Barack Obama féte in town. Apart from the fact that the fete was for Barack Obama was I was excited to see how they get down in Guinea at a fete. And it would be a good bonding experience for me and my colleague. So that Sunday morning my friend Lansine (my only friend over the age of 10 at the time) and I biked to Kan Kan and met up with my colleague who showed us to the fete located at the end of town.
The whole time I was thinking to myself that this would be just us standing around watching people dance and listen to some good music. Haha! Not quite. We got the party location at around 9:30a so things were still warming up. There were about 50 or so people standing
around, tons of children. The drummers were warming up their instruments on the side and there were a few people holding Barack Obama signs. It still hadn’t dawned on my that this was about to be a parade. Within an hour, somehow I was coerced into being in this parade. Everyone was so excited to have an Americainne Noir amongst them. So I was given a special seat in the truck with the drummers and “cheerleaders.” I have to say that I had an amazing time cheering for Barack Obama, and Guineans definitely know how to celebrate.
The parade lasted about 2 hours as we drove slowly through the streets of Kan Kan, drawing massive crowds of people. Every time we got to a major intersection everyone jumped out the cars and danced to the drums in the streets. It was so much fun. The “cheerleaders” I was with
were great. Probably 2 of the happiest woman I’ve ever met in my life. They took care of me during the parade making sure I was able to participate and didn’t get swallowed in the crowd of people.
The day we heard the news I received an unbelievable amount of FALICITATIONS from my village. Every time I heard it, I had to smile. Good times.
I was scared out of my mind, but I had to do something. So I grabbed my broomstick (this seems to be my weapon of choice. lol) and gave the scorpion a little push with the bristles, just as a test to see how fast it moves. Much to my surprise he barely moved. Maybe he was sick or something. I dunno. Anyway, because he barely moved I was thinking to myself maybe I can make this easy on myself and just step on him to kill him. But then my common sense kicked in, which obviously had been momentarily turned off while I thought of the brilliant idea of stepping on a live scorpion. He could sting me through my shoe.
I had to come up with plan B. So I thought to myself maybe I can push him into a can or something and drown him or throw him down my latrine hole. At the time is sounded like a magnificent idea, so I took one of my finished oatmeal cans, which was just wide enough that I could just push him in quickly. With my broomstick and can in hand I slowly approached the scorpion. I guess he found some strength from within because this time when I touched him with the bristles he scurried away. Therefore I proceeded to scurry out my front door. J
It was time to think of plan C. It would have to involve more people. So I called my nearest petite, Ningke the 5 year old, and acted out what I had just seen. He looked at me a little sideways and then smiled I guess thinking we were playing a game or something. But he figured it out. His mom was the only adult around, so I was thinking to myself , she can help me kill this thing. I showed them into my hut where the scorpion was hiding. She kind of stood there for a while and then she realized that I needed help. So she handed me a stick from outside and watched from the doorway while I was jumped around screaming trying to kill this thing. I had no luck, it was too fast. I went back outside and waited a couple minutes and thank God my host dad had arrived from the fields within five minutes. Sure enough he would save me. (and he did.) With a joint effort me with the flashlight flashing under the bed and him with the stick he was able to kill the scorpion. By the time the killing was finished I was waiting outside to see the dead scorpion. He brought it outside and explained to me that, there was no need to worry because that was a big scorpion and therefore less poisonous. I didn’t really care. A scorpion is a scorpion in my eyes, regardless of size, and I was just happy it was dead. I don’t know what I would have done without him.
SMOKING PETITES
As you all know I have five wonderful petites that live next door to me. I love them to death but somedays they drive me crazy. Like most kids they have tons of neighborhood friends that come over to play during the day. Sometimes they roll tires down the street with a stick (that’s a children’s favorite here. It’s so cute.) or the game of the day is let’s sit outside Madame’s house and see if we can get her to open her door for us.
This particular day I had just come back from school and had gone in my hut to chill out and eat before heading to my review session. I noticed on my way in the kids were sitting outside my door with a friend. So I said hi and gave hi five’s like a usually do and went inside to start cooking.
After about 30 minutes with my door shut I heard my kids saying “Madame! Madame!” like they usually do if my door is closed longer than 30 min. Usually I ignore them because all I want to do is eat and chill out in peace (I sound like the Grinch. lol) but for whatever reason I decided to check to see what the hype was all about. So I open my door, and in front of me I see my 4 year old petite, Ningké inhaling a cigarette. And Papissce the 8 year old was holding a lit cigarette in his hand. I ALMOST HAD A HEART ATTACK!!! I stepped outside snatched the cigarettes and smashed them under my feet and yelled “ C’est pas bon!!” since that’s the only thing they understand in French. They looked at me kind of bewildered but I thought I had made myself pretty clear. I didn’t think to check to see if there was more, and I thought the situation was resolved, so I went back into my hut to continue what I was doing.
Within 5 minutes I hear an insane amount of coughing coming from outside. I immediately knew that they had tried again. I opened up my door and Ningké was about to cough up his lung.
Papisse got the message the first time and was now pointing fingers as to who was to blame. I was floored. The friend had a pack of cigarettes in his hand. How they lit them, I have no idea. Clearly they didn’t understand the severity of smoking, so it was time for another game of sherades or more like a theatrical presentation where I had to demonstrate what would happen if they continued to smoke. Of course it was exaggerated but they got the point.The other day I was walking down the street with Ningké and there was a
cigarette butt on the ground. He picked it up and showed it too me and said, “C’est pas bon,” in his little voice and shook his head.For those of you that might be wondering how the kids were able to get a hold of a pack of cigarettes and light them, it’s because there is no garbage disposal system here. All garbage is thrown and left in the streets so it is highly likely that the kids just found it on the ground and then lit them by a cooking fire that was going near by.
BARACK OBAMA
I’m sure you all are still on a high about the recent results of the presidential election. It’s
definitely a historical moment for all of America to celebrate and be proud of. I can not even begin to describe to you how elated I was to hear the news.Anyway, I’m not sure what they’ve been showing you all on the news about the international response to Barack Obama, but if you didn’t know, you know now that Africa loves Barack
Obama; and Guinea, just as much as any other. Every time someone talks to me here, it is guaranteed that Barack Obama will come up in conversation. Sometimes when I walk the streets of Kan Kan people that know I’m American just yell BARAAACCCKKK OOBAAAAMMMMAAA! And then I just giggle to myself and yell BARAAACKKK OOBAAMMAAA back. It’s hilarious.A couple weekends before the election day I was invited by one of my colleagues to attend a Barack Obama féte in town. Apart from the fact that the fete was for Barack Obama was I was excited to see how they get down in Guinea at a fete. And it would be a good bonding experience for me and my colleague. So that Sunday morning my friend Lansine (my only friend over the age of 10 at the time) and I biked to Kan Kan and met up with my colleague who showed us to the fete located at the end of town.
The whole time I was thinking to myself that this would be just us standing around watching people dance and listen to some good music. Haha! Not quite. We got the party location at around 9:30a so things were still warming up. There were about 50 or so people standing
around, tons of children. The drummers were warming up their instruments on the side and there were a few people holding Barack Obama signs. It still hadn’t dawned on my that this was about to be a parade. Within an hour, somehow I was coerced into being in this parade. Everyone was so excited to have an Americainne Noir amongst them. So I was given a special seat in the truck with the drummers and “cheerleaders.” I have to say that I had an amazing time cheering for Barack Obama, and Guineans definitely know how to celebrate.The parade lasted about 2 hours as we drove slowly through the streets of Kan Kan, drawing massive crowds of people. Every time we got to a major intersection everyone jumped out the cars and danced to the drums in the streets. It was so much fun. The “cheerleaders” I was with
were great. Probably 2 of the happiest woman I’ve ever met in my life. They took care of me during the parade making sure I was able to participate and didn’t get swallowed in the crowd of people.The day we heard the news I received an unbelievable amount of FALICITATIONS from my village. Every time I heard it, I had to smile. Good times.
I Still Can't Sleep
So last I mentioned about sleep, there were rats playing soccer in my ceiling and roosters waking me up at the crack of dawn with that wretched screeching. Maintenant, there is an unknown creature nestled in the thatch roof of my hut. The creature that never sleeps….
For the past 3 weeks (maybe more) I have been tormented like never before by something living in my roof. I’m not sure where it came from because I was sleeping like a baby the first month at site and I don’t feel like I have changed any of my habits to entice any creature to feel that that have a free place to stay at night.
Anyway. Every evening when I’m finished with my students around 6:00pm I head home, spend a little time with my petites and depending on what we’re eating, eat with my family or in my hut. Usually around 7:30pm I listen to the BBC News and then take my night bath and hop in the bed with my headphones or a book and fall asleep.
Usually between 11:00p and 1:00a is when I am awakened by this thing. It starts off with a little rustle of the straw and then continues with this uncontrollable scratching and knowing of the bamboo, that makes me want to scream. It goes on for about 30 minutes then takes a break for about 5 or 10 minutes and then goes back to work until the wee hours of the morning.
The first time I heard it I was scared out of my mind. Every sound that I hear is magnified through the silence of the night, so I layed in my bed with my heart racing trying to decipher whether this noise was coming on the inside or the outside of my hut. If it was outside it was just a cow, goat or chicken eating a midnight snack of dried grass and weeds. Sometimes they get really close to the hut because it’s nice and warm on those cool nights when the temperature drops. I tried convincing myself that the noise was coming from outside to calm my nerves. I sat up in my bed and my flashlight around the hut for confirmation. If it was a rat or any rodent it would run away if it saw the light, right? But it didn’t so I knew it had to be outside.
Unfortunately even if you convince yourself it doesn’t necessarily mean the noise is going to stop, it just means that your mind at ease. So the rest of the night I layed in my bed listening. I was finally able to fall back asleep around 4:30a only to have to wake up for work at 6:30a.
During the day I kind of forgot about the thing and kind of chalked it up as a one night occurrence. So I did my normal routine that evening with BBC, bath and headphones, only to be woken up again in the early morning hours by this knowing. I told myself, ‘oh Larc, go back to sleep, it’s just a cow outside.’ But then I heard pieces of my roof fall to the cement floor. My heartbeats quickened, and the fear sank in again, and now I was wide awake with my mind racing, thinking the unimaginable, like “Oh God, a giant bush rat is about to eat its way through my ceiling, land on my mosquito net and knaw it’s way through and eat me.”...really Larc? That clearly didn’t happen but I was petrified to the point where I wanted to cry, mostly because I was so tired and I didn’t want to have another night like the one before. Basically I just layed in my bed, listened to a little music, read a little bit until he was finished. Another sleepless night went by.
So at this point I realize that this is not a one night occurrence and it’s time to get other people involved because I can’t live my life like this. I ask around and people keep saying “oh it’s just a rat,” but I really don’t think so.
After a couple nights of this nonsense, I was pissed. So the other night he started his usual business, but I was too tired to put up with it, so I had to take matters into my own hands. At about 2 o’clock in the morning I had, had enough, so I put on my headlamp, grabbed my sharpest knife, and a broomstick and stood on my wooden chair with every intention of
murdering what was up there. The broomstick was just long enough to reach the point of the roof, so I used all of my force to slap the pieces of bamboo and the tip of the broomstick to punch through the straw.
Despite my efforts I found nothing. Now I was wide awake with tired arms. So I climbed back in my bed and read a little bit hopes of falling asleep, because there’s no way thing would come back out after all that noise I just made. I had to have scared him away right?...Sike! Within 20 minutes he had gone back to work. I hate to admit this, but I think this creature has gotten the best of me. It’s still there. I’ve resorted to going to bed earlier so I can be in a deeper sleep when he comes out and I also stick cotton in my ears to smother the noise he makes. I’ll be sure to inform you all once I discover what it is.
For the past 3 weeks (maybe more) I have been tormented like never before by something living in my roof. I’m not sure where it came from because I was sleeping like a baby the first month at site and I don’t feel like I have changed any of my habits to entice any creature to feel that that have a free place to stay at night.
Anyway. Every evening when I’m finished with my students around 6:00pm I head home, spend a little time with my petites and depending on what we’re eating, eat with my family or in my hut. Usually around 7:30pm I listen to the BBC News and then take my night bath and hop in the bed with my headphones or a book and fall asleep.
Usually between 11:00p and 1:00a is when I am awakened by this thing. It starts off with a little rustle of the straw and then continues with this uncontrollable scratching and knowing of the bamboo, that makes me want to scream. It goes on for about 30 minutes then takes a break for about 5 or 10 minutes and then goes back to work until the wee hours of the morning.
The first time I heard it I was scared out of my mind. Every sound that I hear is magnified through the silence of the night, so I layed in my bed with my heart racing trying to decipher whether this noise was coming on the inside or the outside of my hut. If it was outside it was just a cow, goat or chicken eating a midnight snack of dried grass and weeds. Sometimes they get really close to the hut because it’s nice and warm on those cool nights when the temperature drops. I tried convincing myself that the noise was coming from outside to calm my nerves. I sat up in my bed and my flashlight around the hut for confirmation. If it was a rat or any rodent it would run away if it saw the light, right? But it didn’t so I knew it had to be outside.
Unfortunately even if you convince yourself it doesn’t necessarily mean the noise is going to stop, it just means that your mind at ease. So the rest of the night I layed in my bed listening. I was finally able to fall back asleep around 4:30a only to have to wake up for work at 6:30a.During the day I kind of forgot about the thing and kind of chalked it up as a one night occurrence. So I did my normal routine that evening with BBC, bath and headphones, only to be woken up again in the early morning hours by this knowing. I told myself, ‘oh Larc, go back to sleep, it’s just a cow outside.’ But then I heard pieces of my roof fall to the cement floor. My heartbeats quickened, and the fear sank in again, and now I was wide awake with my mind racing, thinking the unimaginable, like “Oh God, a giant bush rat is about to eat its way through my ceiling, land on my mosquito net and knaw it’s way through and eat me.”...really Larc? That clearly didn’t happen but I was petrified to the point where I wanted to cry, mostly because I was so tired and I didn’t want to have another night like the one before. Basically I just layed in my bed, listened to a little music, read a little bit until he was finished. Another sleepless night went by.
So at this point I realize that this is not a one night occurrence and it’s time to get other people involved because I can’t live my life like this. I ask around and people keep saying “oh it’s just a rat,” but I really don’t think so.
After a couple nights of this nonsense, I was pissed. So the other night he started his usual business, but I was too tired to put up with it, so I had to take matters into my own hands. At about 2 o’clock in the morning I had, had enough, so I put on my headlamp, grabbed my sharpest knife, and a broomstick and stood on my wooden chair with every intention of
murdering what was up there. The broomstick was just long enough to reach the point of the roof, so I used all of my force to slap the pieces of bamboo and the tip of the broomstick to punch through the straw.Despite my efforts I found nothing. Now I was wide awake with tired arms. So I climbed back in my bed and read a little bit hopes of falling asleep, because there’s no way thing would come back out after all that noise I just made. I had to have scared him away right?...Sike! Within 20 minutes he had gone back to work. I hate to admit this, but I think this creature has gotten the best of me. It’s still there. I’ve resorted to going to bed earlier so I can be in a deeper sleep when he comes out and I also stick cotton in my ears to smother the noise he makes. I’ll be sure to inform you all once I discover what it is.
School
Last we left off; I was anxiously waiting for the school year to start.
As I mentioned previously the Guinean education system is un peu different. The debut of the school year is announced over the radio about a month or so before the date. I’m not certain how the date is determined, but this year’s school year was scheduled to start on October 15th. However, in Guinea, even though there is a scheduled date for school it’s more like an approximation.
After being at site for a little over 2 weeks I was growing increasingly restless with the anticipation of the school year, primarily because I had not talked to anyone from my school since being at site and school was starting in less than a week. I still had no clue what grade level I was going to be teaching or what my schedule was going to be, so was therefore unable to do any useful preparation. Finally two days before the scheduled start of school my principal randomly knocked on my door to tell me that we had a meeting tout de suite. So I quickly
grabbed my pen and paper and we walked the five minutes to the school, where I was introduced to the Directeur des Etudes (the U.S equivalent of a vice principal) and two of the parents from the “parent organization.” After the five minute introduction they carried on the meeting in Maninka for the next hour. You all are aware of my level of Maninka, so you can determine what my role became in this meeting. The clueless girl, sitting there, twiddling her thumbs.
Anyway, afterward we continued with the L’emploi de Temps. It was decided that I would teach 8th and 9th grade Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. I was pleased with the outcome of my schedule and looking forward to teaching, but for whatever reason, there was still this cloud of uncertainty among the school staff whether school was really going to start in the next 2 days, or maybe the 20th, or maybe the 1st of November. I figured it would be in my best interest to show up just in case.
So that Wednesday morning I woke up nice and early, bathed, put on my best Guinean attire, reviewed my lesson plans once more and then left the house around 7:30am. I wanted to be early for my new students. I got to the school within 5 minutes and walked into an empty school yard. There was a random unoccupied desk sitting in the courtyard just outside the “teachers lounge.” After about 15 minutes or about 10 to eight (school starts at eight) I was still there tout seul. Time is not of the essence here so I decided to wait a little longer since Guineans are usually late….So another 45 minutes passed and I was still there twiddling my thumbs. So at this point I made up my mind that there was no school on October 15th. So I left and walked back to my hut, changed my clothes and went on about my business for the day. Friday or so, some random person in my village tells me that school is actually starting Monday October 20th. Much to my surprise he was right.
Teaching
School has been an interesting experience thus far. Some days are better than others but overall good. I have about 70 students that show up for each of my classes. As you can imagine, it can be somewhat tiresome trying to manage 70 eighth graders that kind of understand you. Not only because you don’t speak French that well but because their French is worse than yours. I bring a bottle of water with me everyday to sip when my throat gets raw. My students also enjoy laughing and mocking my French accent. (You know all this laughter that seems to hover over me wherever I go has led me into serious consideration of quitting everything and pursuing a career as a comedian since people get such a kick out of me :-) )
Anyway, apart from the occasional laughter, my kids are awesome and teaching is enjoyable. I find my life is consumed with my students. If I’m not teaching, I’m lesson planning or tutoring,
or trying to come up with a way to motivate them or a creative way to present the material so that they can understand the concepts. It can be challenging but so rewarding on both ends, when they finally get it.
Like practice school in Forecariah, many of the students in my village lack sound math fundamentals. In addition to that I have some students that just don’t believe they could possibly comprehend, and therefore put zero effort in, some students have to work after school so don’t have time, and others who would just rather play football than study.
To counteract some of these difficulties I have to take class extremely slowly, explain things/concepts beacoup de fois and give a million examples. For the students that don’t believe try and find different ways to encourage them. It’s a lot sometimes but at the end of the day they understand.
Each day after school I do revision sessions for those students that need extra help. It’s kind of like office hours. I have a few regular students that come but for the majority it’s difficult to get the extra help because they have to work the fields after school. In a country like Guinea, working the fields takes precedent over school work. It’s a adverse situation to be in and difficult as a teacher, because I can’t tell a student not to go work the fields and instead study if that’s one of the only ways that his/her family can eat.
Aside from having to work, the education system here in Guinea just doesn’t hold as much value as it would in the United States or Europe. Although a student may go through with high school and university there is little guarantee that he/she will find a job in Guinea that would pay enough money that they could support their family. And it’s extremely hard to leave the country when you don’t have the means.
For example a common job found among people with a degree is teaching. From what I understand, the average teacher’s salary is about 200,000GF. Sounds like a lot right? In actuality it’s roughly $40 a month, which if you calculate is a little over a dollar a day. In Guinea a sac of rice (which is what everyone eats) costs 200,000GF. It’s not enough.
Anyway, because teachers don’t get paid enough, naturally a lot of striking occurs and in some instances they just don’t show up to work. In the case of my village, I work at a college that has 7th-10th grade, of maybe 400 students total (on paper.) There are some days when I go to school and I am the only teacher that comes the whole day. If I’m teaching the 8th graders, the 7th, 9th, 10th graders are just hanging out in hopes that maybe the next teacher for the 10:00am class shows up. If he doesn’t the principal sends the kids home, which means they didn’t have class that day. This happens on more than one occasion a week. I just started teaching 10th grade last week because the math teacher has not shown up yet. It’s been over a month since school started. This year the 10th graders take a test called the BREVET which determines whether they will continue onto 11th grade.
Although there are so many factors that contribute to the situation, I understand how and why things are operating the way that they are. I don’t necessarily agree with them, but unfortunately the students are the one’s affected by all of this. The fortunate thing about all of this, unlike practice school I have my students for 2 whole years, which is just enough time for them to be molded into little mathématiciens. J But more importantly encourage them to understand the value of education despite the situation. You never know what opportunities might come available so you want to be prepared.
For those of you teachers or non teachers that might have any ideas about teaching techniques or anything creative that might assist in the education of the students please feel free to leave a message on the blog or send me an email, larc_pickett@yahoo.com. For those that have already given them, thank you, they are greatly appreciated.
As I mentioned previously the Guinean education system is un peu different. The debut of the school year is announced over the radio about a month or so before the date. I’m not certain how the date is determined, but this year’s school year was scheduled to start on October 15th. However, in Guinea, even though there is a scheduled date for school it’s more like an approximation.
After being at site for a little over 2 weeks I was growing increasingly restless with the anticipation of the school year, primarily because I had not talked to anyone from my school since being at site and school was starting in less than a week. I still had no clue what grade level I was going to be teaching or what my schedule was going to be, so was therefore unable to do any useful preparation. Finally two days before the scheduled start of school my principal randomly knocked on my door to tell me that we had a meeting tout de suite. So I quickly
grabbed my pen and paper and we walked the five minutes to the school, where I was introduced to the Directeur des Etudes (the U.S equivalent of a vice principal) and two of the parents from the “parent organization.” After the five minute introduction they carried on the meeting in Maninka for the next hour. You all are aware of my level of Maninka, so you can determine what my role became in this meeting. The clueless girl, sitting there, twiddling her thumbs.Anyway, afterward we continued with the L’emploi de Temps. It was decided that I would teach 8th and 9th grade Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. I was pleased with the outcome of my schedule and looking forward to teaching, but for whatever reason, there was still this cloud of uncertainty among the school staff whether school was really going to start in the next 2 days, or maybe the 20th, or maybe the 1st of November. I figured it would be in my best interest to show up just in case.
So that Wednesday morning I woke up nice and early, bathed, put on my best Guinean attire, reviewed my lesson plans once more and then left the house around 7:30am. I wanted to be early for my new students. I got to the school within 5 minutes and walked into an empty school yard. There was a random unoccupied desk sitting in the courtyard just outside the “teachers lounge.” After about 15 minutes or about 10 to eight (school starts at eight) I was still there tout seul. Time is not of the essence here so I decided to wait a little longer since Guineans are usually late….So another 45 minutes passed and I was still there twiddling my thumbs. So at this point I made up my mind that there was no school on October 15th. So I left and walked back to my hut, changed my clothes and went on about my business for the day. Friday or so, some random person in my village tells me that school is actually starting Monday October 20th. Much to my surprise he was right.
Teaching
School has been an interesting experience thus far. Some days are better than others but overall good. I have about 70 students that show up for each of my classes. As you can imagine, it can be somewhat tiresome trying to manage 70 eighth graders that kind of understand you. Not only because you don’t speak French that well but because their French is worse than yours. I bring a bottle of water with me everyday to sip when my throat gets raw. My students also enjoy laughing and mocking my French accent. (You know all this laughter that seems to hover over me wherever I go has led me into serious consideration of quitting everything and pursuing a career as a comedian since people get such a kick out of me :-) )
Anyway, apart from the occasional laughter, my kids are awesome and teaching is enjoyable. I find my life is consumed with my students. If I’m not teaching, I’m lesson planning or tutoring,
or trying to come up with a way to motivate them or a creative way to present the material so that they can understand the concepts. It can be challenging but so rewarding on both ends, when they finally get it.Like practice school in Forecariah, many of the students in my village lack sound math fundamentals. In addition to that I have some students that just don’t believe they could possibly comprehend, and therefore put zero effort in, some students have to work after school so don’t have time, and others who would just rather play football than study.
To counteract some of these difficulties I have to take class extremely slowly, explain things/concepts beacoup de fois and give a million examples. For the students that don’t believe try and find different ways to encourage them. It’s a lot sometimes but at the end of the day they understand.
Each day after school I do revision sessions for those students that need extra help. It’s kind of like office hours. I have a few regular students that come but for the majority it’s difficult to get the extra help because they have to work the fields after school. In a country like Guinea, working the fields takes precedent over school work. It’s a adverse situation to be in and difficult as a teacher, because I can’t tell a student not to go work the fields and instead study if that’s one of the only ways that his/her family can eat.
Aside from having to work, the education system here in Guinea just doesn’t hold as much value as it would in the United States or Europe. Although a student may go through with high school and university there is little guarantee that he/she will find a job in Guinea that would pay enough money that they could support their family. And it’s extremely hard to leave the country when you don’t have the means.
For example a common job found among people with a degree is teaching. From what I understand, the average teacher’s salary is about 200,000GF. Sounds like a lot right? In actuality it’s roughly $40 a month, which if you calculate is a little over a dollar a day. In Guinea a sac of rice (which is what everyone eats) costs 200,000GF. It’s not enough.
Anyway, because teachers don’t get paid enough, naturally a lot of striking occurs and in some instances they just don’t show up to work. In the case of my village, I work at a college that has 7th-10th grade, of maybe 400 students total (on paper.) There are some days when I go to school and I am the only teacher that comes the whole day. If I’m teaching the 8th graders, the 7th, 9th, 10th graders are just hanging out in hopes that maybe the next teacher for the 10:00am class shows up. If he doesn’t the principal sends the kids home, which means they didn’t have class that day. This happens on more than one occasion a week. I just started teaching 10th grade last week because the math teacher has not shown up yet. It’s been over a month since school started. This year the 10th graders take a test called the BREVET which determines whether they will continue onto 11th grade.
Although there are so many factors that contribute to the situation, I understand how and why things are operating the way that they are. I don’t necessarily agree with them, but unfortunately the students are the one’s affected by all of this. The fortunate thing about all of this, unlike practice school I have my students for 2 whole years, which is just enough time for them to be molded into little mathématiciens. J But more importantly encourage them to understand the value of education despite the situation. You never know what opportunities might come available so you want to be prepared.
For those of you teachers or non teachers that might have any ideas about teaching techniques or anything creative that might assist in the education of the students please feel free to leave a message on the blog or send me an email, larc_pickett@yahoo.com. For those that have already given them, thank you, they are greatly appreciated.
Life
So I know it’s been a while since I’ve given an update. It’s crazy how time is flying by. I’ve already been at site for over 2 months and a little over 5 months total in country.
I really don’t know where to begin to depict these last couple months. I guess if I had to use one word to describe it the only one I can think to use is bizarre or peculiar. It’s been an interesting 2 months full of unusual events, a boatload of miscommunication and an incredible amount of emotional ups and downs.
It was challenging at first managing through the language barrier and trying to figure out the ropes of a new country, a new culture, and a new village almost completely alone. There is no amount of training that could have adequately prepared me or anyone else for the Guinean Peace Corps experience. Most of the experience is observing, learning and discovering as you go along, but so are most things in life, right?
I have to say, that despite the difficulties and frustrations things are tremendously better than they were. The bad days are less frequent, and I’m starting to learn, grow and appreciate more about Guinea, myself and life. I’m adjusting to my life petite à petite. The things that use to freak me out, overwhelm me or annoy me, just don’t anymore. I’m starting to feel at home here and things are good.
I really don’t know where to begin to depict these last couple months. I guess if I had to use one word to describe it the only one I can think to use is bizarre or peculiar. It’s been an interesting 2 months full of unusual events, a boatload of miscommunication and an incredible amount of emotional ups and downs.
It was challenging at first managing through the language barrier and trying to figure out the ropes of a new country, a new culture, and a new village almost completely alone. There is no amount of training that could have adequately prepared me or anyone else for the Guinean Peace Corps experience. Most of the experience is observing, learning and discovering as you go along, but so are most things in life, right?
I have to say, that despite the difficulties and frustrations things are tremendously better than they were. The bad days are less frequent, and I’m starting to learn, grow and appreciate more about Guinea, myself and life. I’m adjusting to my life petite à petite. The things that use to freak me out, overwhelm me or annoy me, just don’t anymore. I’m starting to feel at home here and things are good.
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