I finally found something the girls AND monitoras are interested in and excited about! I have been talking with a couple other PCVs on Santiago about an idea for an income-generating project to do with the girls at the Center, and it looks like if I can get it organized, supported, and underway, it could turn out to be a success. In Cape Verde women often make things out of linha (line), a thick thread used for crocheting, usually turning out doilies, table runners, and the occasional tablecloth. They’re nice, women fill their houses with the stuff, and it’s a nice way to occupy their evenings or “free” time. Well Claudia, the PCV I did shadowing with during training, makes a lot of different things with the linha, including shawls and such, and recently including hats. They’re cute hats, kind of like little beanies with different styles and colors. And a few of us together came up with the idea of teaching the girls how to make these hats, and possibly nice bracelets as well, and creating what would essentially be a small business that would bring money into the Center. I tossed the idea out to the girls, who showed interest, and then one day I wore the hat Claudia made for me to the Center, and the girls got really excited, thought it was adorable. And every day since they’ve been asking me when the girl is going to come teach them how to make the hats. Soooo, that got me moving to start planning the project. The monitoras got word, and for the first time since I’ve been here, showed actual emotion—excitement even. One of them pulled out a bag of linha things that have been made by the girls in the past (doilies and such) that they have tried unsuccessfully to sell during expositions. I asked her what she thought about my project idea and she was very interested, which means—gasp!—I’ll have her support. A VERY important part of getting anything done. And of getting me motivated.
This is a picture of me with the hat on that Claudia made...so that's an example of what they could look like.
So I’ve begun putting together a proposal for the project, assessing costs of materials, resources needed, organization and marketing, etc. etc. so that it can get underway as soon as possible. I think that if we market them really well, find different vendors who are willing to help us sell the hats and bracelets (a PCV in Praia knows some stores that would be willing to carry them on consignment), push them hardcore in the high school and technical school (tons of adolescents looking for a new trend to adopt) and keep things very organized and proactive, this could be a big thing. Making hats out of linha is something that hasn’t been tried or thought of, and could potentially find a big market here, more so than doilies and table runners. Not only would this project bring in a little extra money to fund projects, trips, etc. but it is an excellent way to give the girls a chance to learn responsibility and organization, and a feeling that they are contributing in the Center and that their abilities and efforts are worthwhile. It gives them something to occupy their time, and important skills for any future jobs or income-raising endeavors. Especially for those who likely won’t finish their education or go on for further schooling.
So I’m hoping this project will work out, and that we’ll be able to locate the start-up funds needed to get us in production. And that I’ll suddenly pick up business skills from thin air since I have very little idea of what I’m doing as regards things related to marketing and finances. I figure it can’t be too hard, and if I need help, that’s what other PCVs and professionals are for. And it’s something I feel I have at least a small grasp on, something I am motivated and excited to do for a change. Maybe it’s the support of another PCV that has made me feel more secure about it, but either way I’m itching to get it up and running. Anyone with advice or business tidbits, feel free to pipe in anytime…
So that project, going on host family site visits, and hanging out with my amazing girls every day has had me excited and more content this week. Except for the occasional downers (let’s just say I’m glad it’s Friday…) I’m not doing too bad. Yesterday Zelda freaked out (again) and busted a window, gashing open her wrist, pouring blood, and resulting in another trip to the hospital. If the hospital gave out punch cards, I think Zelda would have a free check-up by now. So she came back with a piece of cardboard attached to her arm with gauze wrapped all around it and a homemade sling. Which she took off and unwrapped about once an hour today. There have been so many broken windows (and other assorted damaged property) in the Center, particularly in the last month or two, the guy who fixes things for us is on speed dial. Okay, so we don’t actually have speed dial, but you get the picture. He’s here a lot.
Sometimes with the more difficult girls taking so much attention I forget to say how much I love my kids. They’re just fantastic 98% of the time (the other 2% could be considered slightly postponed fantastic-ness). And they put up with me so well. The other day when I was helping one of the 8th graders with her homework—she had to list ten things under different categories, like civil construction occupations, areas of health care, etc.—, I convinced her to put Superman and magic carpets under modes of air transportation. I really wish I could have seen her teacher’s reaction. At least we found it hilarious. I try to leave my mark where I can.
2/8/07
I went for the second time today to Ribeira da Barca, the zone where the future youth development group will be placed in July, to meet with potential host families and draw a map of the community. Then Ilídio showed me the beach that is really no longer a beach because for over 5 years, people have increasingly been taking the sand from the beach at night (illegally) and selling it for various purposes, to provide an income where there was none. They saw a resource, didn’t think ahead to realize that it wasn’t limitless, and now have no beach. The fact that there is no visible sand left has not stopped them, though, and now apparently they go diving into the water to get the sand from the ocean floor. Doing this has wiped out a road that was previously there, so they had to create a new road, and the water continues to advance, presumably until it starts devouring houses. This is additionally aided by the fact that those who don’t dive for sand have started taking the rocks that now form the only border between ocean and homes. One by one, they carry large rocks on their heads to go sell or use in construction of houses, and the ocean gets increasingly infuriated, planning its inevitable attack. I told Ilídio that soon enough the ocean would get mad and start eating the town up, people and all. He laughed and grimly replied, “You’re right, it’s pretty awful.” Not only is it awful that they haven’t looked into the future to the day when no more rocks and sand exist, but it’s awful that they haven’t found any other way to raise income. Or that no truly sustainable natural resource is found here on the islands, at least not anything substantial enough to truly lift the entire population out of poverty. But the frustrating part is that there are things they can do, other alternatives than tearing the land apart, one piece at a time until no island is left. Someone needs to come in and start inspiring some income-generating projects to provide another option. I told Ilídio we need to put a Volunteer there. Aguido agreed. But why does it take bringing a foreigner in to start these projects and foster these ideas? Frustrating.
On the way back, we took a pimped-out hiace with a DVD player that plays cheesy Cape Verdean and African music videos on repeat. Such luxury. Those fortunate enough to ride in the hiace with built-in entertainment receive the endless pleasure of heinous 80s-style clips that the other passengers can’t peel their eyes from. Any Volunteer in this country knows the ridiculousness that I’m referring to, one that until this day has no equal. Every clip is filled with the tackiest love scenes you can imagine, ripped straight from the influence of Brazilian novellas, usually with a Jeri-curled Guido in tight white jeans looking pensively into the distance after having a wicked fight with his big-bootied girlfriend who is left sitting at a restaurant table by herself, wondering what went wrong. As he remains pensive, he sees flashbacks of him and the girl playing on the beach, rolling around in the sand, taking a shower together, or strolling down the road eating ice cream. Then usually visions of him dancing alone (and rather stupidly) on a platform or boardwalk will cut through and we see just how truly sexy he is. It’s a sight to be seen. And on this day, I got to see a particularly entertaining clip of this popular one-legged African “thug” dancing around with his one crutch, shaking his hips and yelling “Mother f***er, shut the f*** up”. I really have never seen anything like it in my life. I wondered if that was the only phrase he knew in English, or if he knew what it meant. He was trying to be so tough, hopping around on the one leg, humping the ground, and proving that he still had “it” despite the missing appendage. It’s continually amazing what passes as a truly talented artist in this region. Hey, I’m glad he could fight through whatever awful experience left him with one leg and become a probably successful musician that can produce a decent beat to tap your finger to, but can we please work on improving our lyrics? It’s just so in your face when it doesn’t need to be. It seems very contrived to me, but what do I know?
2/11/07
I’m pretty sure there’s not much I want to say today. At least not that I can think of right now. Mel’s parents are in town visiting from the US for a week. The whole time they’ve been here it has made me anxious for my family to come visit. I’m so jealous! She gets to take them around town, show them her work, show off speaking Criolu to people, etc. etc. I can’t wait for people to come see me!! There’s something different about seeing a place for yourself, something that can’t be transmitted through photos and blogs. Sometimes you just have to feel it, see it happening in front of you to understand at least a tiny part of that person’s experience. I want to teach my family little phrases in Criolu so they can try them out with people, feel like they’re at least trying to communicate. I want to show them the Center, have them meet the girls, who have all seen their pictures. I’m so anxious, I don’t know how I’ll be able to wait all these months…although admittedly it may be a bit of a problem work-wise since they all want to come separately around the same time. That means over a month of visitors, which means not a lot of attention paid to work. I’ll just have to work extra hard in the months before they come. But then there’s PST…dang, so much going on!
Speaking of missing work, I bought my ticket to go to Mindelo, São Vicente for Carnaval, which is the same time as Mardi Gras in the States, the day before Ash Wednesday. So I’ll be taking almost a week to hang out with all the PCVs that will be coming from other islands to Mindelo, where the real party’s at, apparently. I wasn’t going to do it, since I just went to Sal and Boavista, and I didn’t want to miss out on any more work. But then I mentioned it to Andreia, and she was like “Go!! Take advantage of it, if I could go I would.” So since they’re so supportive, I decided I could take a little break. But I do want to make sure I’m working extra hard to make up for the time lost. I want to get the proposal for the income-raising project done before I go so I won’t feel guilty.
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Quick funny story: I’ve been working on making little kits for the girls with the donations we received, so that all the girls will receive the same amount of clothes, hair combs, toys, etc. (We are marking a day to distribute them with a little party, explaining where they came from, how to be respectful when a gift is given, etc.) Well the other day when I was doing just this, Zelda ran into the room (as she often does), saw all the clothes, grabbed a pair of shorts and ran off with them. Andreia gave me a “look” and asked if I could go try to get them back from her. So I ran upstairs to follow her, and found her already stripped of clothing, pulling on the shorts that were very much too small for her. She looked at me pleadingly, begging “Tia, give me the shorts. Pleeeeease! I don’t have any shorts”. Didn’t seem to notice that they didn’t fit her in the slightest. I gave her a firm no and told her to take the shorts off immediately. I told her if she kept asking for things (which she has done pretty much every day since she found out there were boxes of foreign goods waiting in the office) and couldn’t wait until we gave them out to all the girls she wouldn’t get anything. She kept begging, I kept insisting she take them off, and finally I won. She sloooooowly took them off, and the second they were in her hand I grabbed them and told her to put her clothes back on. Instead, she decided it was time to run downstairs in her underwear, running like crazy around the Center, in front of the front door, where everyone and anyone who cared to see could enjoy the show. The monitoras, all laughing, ran after her, telling her to go back upstairs and put her clothes on. Eventually she did. Anyway, it was quite the sight to be seen, you couldn’t help but just laugh. Lately her actions are so completely unpredictable, it’s hard to say what will happen next. But at least at those times when she’s not putting herself and others in danger, it keeps us entertained. Pretty much every hour of every day since, Zelda has asked me to give her the shorts. She just wants things to be given to her, regardless of what it is. Mel’s mom came by the Center to meet the girls, and had picked up a rock outside that she liked (she collects rocks); Zelda saw the rock and asked her to give it to her. A rock. Completely useless to the girl, but she had to have it. So now she has a rock, probably sitting somewhere in her room. You just have to laugh.
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Yesterday I went with Ivete (my counterpart) to a palestra (a small session on a particular topic) she was giving about violence and abuse against children and adolescents to a group of teachers in the ribeira (a more rural area of the island). Watching her speak just reminded me of how lucky I am to have such a bad-ass counterpart, someone who is everything you want and need in a counterpart. She just has such a passion for helping children and proves an excellent advocate for disadvantaged youth and troubled family situations. She has a way of inspiring you with her simple, informed, and compelling way of communicating information. She knows what she’s talking about, has a lot of experience, and knows how to talk to people, all kinds of people. I have complete confidence that she could walk into the government building one day and speak to the President with complete grace, confidence, conviction, and respect, and that same day go out to the fora, the rural areas, and speak kindly and humbly to an impoverished illiterate Cape Verdean grandmother and be able to completely capture her attention and respect. She’s an excellent person to work with, because she gets things done, knows what’s important, yet can be so casual that you feel like you’re great friends who go shopping together on the weekends. Overall, a great ally to have at ICCA, because she will help me to get some of my projects and things done—and she’s Cape VerdeanJ. Anyway, just had to share that nice moment, because it’s those nice moments that keep me here and happy and inspired to do what I’m doing. Of course in that same palestra, two of the Cape Verdeans mentioned their distain for white foreign influence and afterwards came up to me and said “American, eh? How about George Bush and his war with Iraq?” Not my favorite thing to hear as the first words coming out of someone’s mouth. So working in a foreign country is give and take.
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One last thing. I have today, my first day of true rest with gloriously nothing to do, discovered a new cardio workout that doesn't involve running (which, unfortunately after a few months of trying, has not become a new passion of mine. I still hate it.). This simplistic workout involves only turning on the salsa music and going to town alone in my room. Dancing with complete reckless abandon and pure joy. Dancing however I want, however poorly, with however little coordination finds itself moving through my fingertips. And I like it. It is exciting, releasing, and completely mine. My secret only I know about and can take part in. And that gets my heart pumping, blood coursing through me, stress pushed out of me in quick breaths. And so I'll keep doing it, whenever I feel like it.
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