That's so Burkina

A few snapshots of moments that capture life in Burkina for me:

* On the bush taxi to Ouaga, with Ninja Turtle driving (real name: Rasmané). He has a playlist of music popular in Burkina, including a selection of Akon, Lucky Dube (a South African reggae singer), Bob Marley, Shakira, and a bunch of West African singers who I can't name, that he likes to blast for the whole ride. The volume is loud enough that it sometimes gets quite painful. Notable among his musical choices are some of Lucky Dube's songs that are "dubbed" into French by some guy with a deep voice, who repeats whatever was just said in translation in a deep whisper. The translator starts to take liberties toward the ends of songs, though, and he starts singing along, but not well. When we get into Ouaga, sometimes Ninja Turtle starts singing along with Lucky too, except he doesn't speak English so he doesn't know what the words are, and also he is extremely tone deaf. That does not stop him from belting it out. Only the back of his Bob Marley hat and the gesticulation of his large, grimy hands are visible from behind the driver's seat. It's not easy to understand it son, but I hope you'll make it...

Goofy Smile hands a moto down to Ninja Turtle and 2 other guys who haven't distinguished themselves enough to have secret nicknames yet; photo credit to my mom

* At the village market. Anytime I go around the village, there are sure to be bands of small children wandering around, and what could be more exciting for a little village kid than to see the white person biking by? They like to wave and shout "nasaara!" which is Mooré for "white person." Other things that they like to shout to me are "ça va?" (French for "how are you?", though they generally pronounce it "ça ba" and don't appear to know what it means, since they keep repeating it even after I answer), "bye bye!" (which I think they think is a greeting), and "mam data bombom" ("I want candy"). Some kids last year started saying "nasaara, berebé!", which confused me because it means nothing in English, French or Mooré; one of the other teachers helpfully suggested that I had misheard them and that they were actually saying "fat white person" in Mooré (no thank you). We eventually concluded that they were trying to say "bien reveillé?" meaning "did you wake up well?" (a common part of greetings in the morning; that did not stop the kids from saying it in the afternoon and evening as well). Most recently, they've started saying "nasaara, koumba?" I'm still stumped about that one. Koumbas are the local bitter eggplant. Who knows. Anyway, anytime I go to the market, the toddler children of the female vendors are sure to stare at me. They walk out on wobbly legs and wave at me wide-eyed; as I approach them, their enthusiasm transforms into fright (omg what if she's a ghost??), and they run behind their mothers and start crying. The mothers find this uniformly hilarious, and tell their babies they're going to send them to America with me, which further increases their terror. Never have I caused someone so much fear before. Never have I wielded so much power!

* At school, talking to the English teacher. The English teacher, Yacouba, is vaguely reminiscent of a large frog both in appearance and in voice. He has a tendency to talk very slowly and over-enunciate all of his words in both English and French, which is probably good for his students, and is slightly infuriating when I'm in a hurry. He only speaks to me in English, and even if I try to speak to him in French to make him talk faster, he determinedly forges on in English. Mild social awkwardness on his part is greatly compounded by odd English word choices, whose origin is explained you see the weird phrasings printed in the national textbooks. His earnestness in improving his English and in encouraging his students more than make up for any awkwardness, though, and you have to forgive him. Sometimes when I get bored, I bake cornbread or banana bread, things foreign to the Burkinabe diet, and bring them to share with the teachers. Each time I bring in a loaf, he takes a first bite, then sits thoughtfully for a moment, and then brightens and says "well, it seems to be delicious!"

Hello from Morocco

Erg Chebbi sand dunes

Unrelatedly, a picture that I took last year and then forgot to post of one of my student's tests. Usually students have to write their test answers on lined paper (not directly on the test), and some students get really into making them look fancy. Here's an example. Is this a good use of test-taking time? I'm not sure, but at least this kid still got 20/20.

I want that you study

This year, in addition to teaching one math class with my students from last year, I took on an English class. I thought it would be a fun change of pace, just something different to do. I have 41 English students, making my English class less than half the size of my math class, and most of the students are in their late teens/early 20's. Classroom management is a breeze. I say "be quiet" and...then they're all quiet! It's like magic. The oldest student, to my knowledge, is 29. I met him last year, and I thought he was like 17 at the time, because why else would he still be in high school. Then I found out that he's a lot older than me. Awkward.

Anyway, teaching English has been challenging. Part of the reason that I specifically asked to teach Première, aside from the smaller class size and the ease of classroom management, is that there's no set curriculum. The students are supposed to have already mastered all the major points of English grammar, so at this point, they're just supposed to be reviewing and expanding their vocabulary. Of course, this being Burkina, the kids actually have no mastery of English grammar or vocabulary and struggle with the most basic things, like the difference between "his" and "her." Anyway, I figured that at least I'd have more liberty: I could freely adapt my lessons based on the needs of the students, without having to follow something irrelevant.

While I do appreciate the freedom, it's been a little scary, especially because the students have none of the basics. At least if we had a textbook, we could work our way through it and I'd have some way to measure progress. As it is, I just kind of make up lessons based on what they need, and I hope that they're learning something. I didn't really know what I was doing at the beginning of the school year, so the first several lessons were pretty rough. My teaching didn't really match their level initially, plus none of them had ever been taught by a native English speaker before, so they had a really hard time with my accent. I think it's gotten a lot better; we've established a routine to the way that classes go, and I can feel their faith in me as a teacher grow with each class. (Nothing worse than trying to learn from someone you don't have faith in.)

Still, I feel like I'm just treading water a lot of the time. We can spend an entire 2-hour class period going over one grammar point over and over again, and at the end they'll appear to have gotten nothing out of it. For example, I noticed that in their homework, a lot of them were writing things like "I want that you go" instead of "I want you to go," so I spent 3 hours in class last week going over that sentence structure very carefully with them and then practicing it over and over and over and over. Then, for homework, I had them write very simple sentences using that same structure, only to find that at least a third to half the students just wrote "I want that you go" again. (Except now some of them wrote "I wanna that you go." Not better.) Am I actually accomplishing anything? My goal for this year is for all of the students to master basic sentence structures and agreement between nouns, verbs, and adjectives, but that's looking like an awfully high goal right now.

I guess at this point, the biggest persisting problem is that I don't have a lot of faith in what I'm doing. It's not that I think my teaching is inadequate, I just think that it's pointless that the kids are studying English. When are they ever going to need it? Unless they manage to leave the country to go somewhere English-speaking, which is highly unlikely even for high-school graduates, they're never going to need it. Burkinabes point out to me that the students might someday use English to talk with foreign aid workers or to read labels on medications or something, but that seems like a totally lame reason for studying a language for 7 years. Any foreign aid worker worth their salt in Burkina will already speak French, and you'll figure out the medication labels if it's that important whether or not you speak English. How can I convince them to make an effort to learn something that they're being forced to study but that they'll never need? (Notice that I say they're being forced to study it, not forced to learn it.) One might argue that my job is to make the subject relevant and exciting for them, but I'd really rather see them learning about science or computer skills or entrepreneurship or anything else.

Lest I sound too hopeless, I will point out for my benefit as well as yours that the kids have to study English anyway, whether it's me or a Burkinabe teaching them, so at least I can make it more interesting for them. Plus, I have my secondary projects, so not all is lost. Still, it's an uphill struggle, and it's hard to make it up that hill when the students and my own self are pushing back down.

Duck-day

To celebrate Thanksgiving yesterday, I got together with 3 other volunteers (my sitemate Katie, Zach, and Kristen) and had a big meal at my house. I've never seen a turkey within 100 miles of my village, but instead we got ducks, which are really kind of better anyway. My school's parents' association gifted 4 ducks to me as a thank-you for the library and other activities, and we also had mashed potatoes, stuffing, salad, popcorn, tofu, ginger cake, coconut macaroons, and pumpkin pie. Somewhere around 20 Burkinabe friends came over in the end. After this, I will never complain about having too small of a kitchen again (that's probably a lie)--we pulled off dinner for 24 people with a grand total of 3 square feet of counter space and 2 gas burners and no refrigerator or separate oven. Take that!

Something I look forward to next Thanksgiving: not starting off with live birds.

Zach prepares to earn his Thanksgiving meal

My pumpkin pie, next to the oven

I was so proud of how this pumpkin pie came out. I didn't think it would come out that well. It did. Thanks Grandma for the boxed pumpkin you sent me.

Plucking and gutting (guess who got to clean this up afterward)

Burkinabes arranged themselves into an audience so that they could awkwardly stare in silence at the Americans

The White People Show

Commissaire, my boutiquier (shop owner) and generally a heavy-hitter in the community

The explanation behind the outfit- the red tank top is made out of a traditional Mossi fabric. The Mossi are the dominant ethnic group in my region. It depicts a bird delivering a letter, and it's supposed to symbolize peace, or something. The wrap on the bottom is traditionally woven and dyed fabric. When Burkinabe women dress up for cultural events, they wear the two together.

When Burkinabes get behind the camera

In my English class on the morning of Thanksgiving, I asked each of my students to write 3 things that they were thankful for. Most of them wrote things like "I am thankful for my boyfriend because he bought me some clothes." or "I am thankful for my wife because she gave me a kiss." (??) One of my personal favorites was "I am thankful for pawpaws and watermelons because I like them."

The girls. (Look in the background, how big my trees are getting!)

Personally, I am thankful for my students, and for all my village friends who have my back. I'd also like to appreciate all of the people at home who have kept in touch with me and encouraged me over the past year and a half. You guys are the best.

Pie?