So what exactly are you doing in Africa?

I’ve been in Africa for four months now, and of course everyone knew the first nine weeks or so I was training, but now everyone asks, “Dani, what exactly are you doing in Africa?”- the funny thing is I ask my self that very same question on a daily basis! The Peace Corps has pretty strict rules of us not to start any projects during our first three months at site, until we complete our second round of training, which is in December. This is mainly because right now I don’t have enough information to complete anything major. I don’t have enough language training to hold meetings and plan for sustainable projects. I don’t have a good understanding of my community yet, and I haven’t developed strong working relationships among the villagers. So there you have it. During my first three months, and up until my training in December I’m learning Bambara, learning the culture and the way things are done in my village. So yes, technically yala yalaing all day, or helping people cook lunch, or sitting in on some classes is all considered work for me at the moment.

Most recently I have been working on translating a survey from English into Bambara. Once I completed translating, I did a quick run through of the questions with my language tutor, made a few minor, and a few major changes to my Bambara until I felt comfortable enough to ask other people around the village. The survey consists of questions dealing with Education, the school, how the school functions, the community’s support of the school, access to education in surrounding villages, and similar questions. I felt confident enough with my Bambara to bring up a few of the questions in a non-formal conversation among people I usually talk with. Asking the questions was no problem-understanding the answers wasn’t quite as easy…Once I started to understand a little of what people were saying, I realized that people were telling me all different answers to the same questions. Questions that could have been as simple as yes or no quickly became run on sentences of perplexing Bambara that still have my mind reeling. Needless to say my survey needs a little more work…

Aside from conducting the survey I have been visiting the school. In training I was told all about the school system in Mali, how things are run, the similarities and differences between the American school system, and what to expect in the classroom. The very first time I walked into the school, I was in utter shock- I’m pretty sure no amount of training, or explanation of what to expect could have prepared me for what I was walking into! The classroom I happened to walk into first was “third grade” a classroom about half the size of a normal (American) classroom, six windows, about 20 bench desks, a blackboard, one teacher, and 85 students. EIGHTY-FIVE- ages ranging from 7-12. The days Math lesson was learning place value, ones tens, hundreds… the teacher drew a chart on the board and gave the students a number to fill into the correct slots. As soon as he asked for a volunteer, practically every student jumps to their feet raises a hand or two in the air snapping their fingers shouting” Monsieur, Monsieur.” It took them seven tries to get the first one right. After two more examples the students were given four questions to work on quietly on their own. Next on the “class schedule” was art. The teacher gathers up some colored chalk and draws the Malian Flag on the board- backwards. When I attempt to explain that it is backwards he erases the drawing, goes and looks at the flagpole, comes back and draws the Malian flag on the board-backwards again. The students then continue to draw and color Guinea’s flag rather than the Malian flag in their notebooks.
After a three hour lunch/afternoon nap the students and teacher return and the first thing they do is review the French alphabet, by shouting the letters when the teacher points to them and singing a few songs about the sound each letter makes. The teacher then gets called to another classroom. So I take this advantage to point to the letters out of the order of the song and the students could not identify them. Overcome with so many emotions, I excuse myself as soon as the teacher returns. I can’t even begin to explain the number of emotions I was feeling, I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling that sad, sorry, disheartened, disappointed, overwhelmed, frustrated, discouraged, and dispirited all at once. I couldn’t help but feeling that the students were not learning a single thing, and the teacher was just there to collect a paycheck. From what I saw there was no shine, or gleam in the that teacher’s eye that said, “I’m here to change some one’s life” like I’ve seen in so many of my own teachers over the years.
After a little crying, venting, and returning to the school a few more times I began to see things in a different light. I saw that the teachers are working with all they have, and doing all they can to teach the only way they know how. I do get the feeling that people here really do support education and think that it is important for their children to be educated, however education is still very much a work in progress and that’s why I’m here. I’m here to attempt to explain the importance of education, and help this community strengthen the education system that is already in place.

Along with all the work I’ve been doing, I’ve had the chance to, harvest peanuts, make peanut butter, among other Malian peanut dishes, plant a garden, and make quite a few proposals to take some Malian babies home with me in two years! Speaking of proposals, I’ve had to find very clever ways of convincing Malians that they don’t want to marry me. I explain that I’m not much of a cook, and pretty much tell them all the things they would have to do in America that they don’t do here, and of course number one they must speak English. To my surprise there a few men in my village who are a lot smarter than I’ve been giving them credit for! In a combined effort to find me a Malian man who is, single, can cook, clean, and wash his own clothes, they found one and taught him how to say, “ Hi, how are you? I am fine!” and presented him to me. When I said I still couldn’t marry him, because he hasn’t asked my American father yet they responded by asking for his phone number.- So, sorry Daddy..if you get a call from a strange number…

Since I’m not able to actually do any real work yet, one thing I’ve been struggling with lately, other than a tad bit of boredom is the lingering question of who is serving whom? Here I am living among the nicest strangers I have ever met. On a daily basis I am offered food, water, a helping hand, pretty much anything I could ever need and the furthest I have to go is outside my door and greet a passerby. One lady walked all around the village to find me one day because she cooked a certain kind of rice for lunch that I love and she wanted to share it with me. All the time people are offering to help me, “Marium, I’m going to the well give me your bucket,” or “I’m going to market do you need anything?” or “ That man selling fabric ripped you off I’m going to talk to him.” Malians may not have the best manners, or hygiene, but they sure have hospitality down!