Friday, February 29, 2008

It doesn't cost a thing to smile

“I told them [The Great Gatsby] was an American classic, in many ways the quintessential American novel…Some cite its subject matter, the American dream, to justify this distinction. We in ancient countries have our past—we obsess over the past. They, the Americans, have a dream: they feel nostalgia about the promise of the future.”
--Azar Nafisi, Reading Lolita in Tehran

I obsess about the future. I bathe in it, dreaming of all the wondrous possibilities. I see the future as blissful, adventurous, mysterious, majestic, and rewarding. And I suppose it’s because it is a better option than thinking about a disastrous past, one truly unknown to most people, most Americans. A past full of hatred and pain, or worse: ambiguity, the confusion of undefined or multiple roots. Much easier to think of the future, of all the ways to spend the currency of our fortunate upbringings in a land of freedom and opportunity. The past isn’t all that wretched, we know; we may extract the few triumphant values and ideals that brought us such rampant and rapid prosperity. But wasn’t one of those values a focus on the horizon ahead…?

I am a product of this. Sometimes I let myself get overwhelmed with all the shapes into which my future could shift, never doubting the inevitability of achieving some type of self-defined success. So bizarre the way that privilege manifests, letting us run wild, reckless abandon, no limits to the imagination. I relate that to where I am at now, to the people I know and read about all over the world for whom daily life is full of limitations and struggle, not even the slightest notion of the luscious temptress we call future. I think about this today, because I am reading the Iranian-authored book Reading Lolita in Tehran, which describes innumerous obscene violations of human rights, particularly women’s rights. And I think of what my life could have been elsewhere, who I would have turned out to be. Bitter and defeated? Strong and triumphant against all odds? Weary and submissive?

And so, as I say, I ponder my future. I list out the bountiful options and pick which one sounds best to me, suits me more appropriately, offers me the most, pleases my heart’s desires to the fullest. And then I feel quite sure this must be the definition of luxury. Limitless idealism, which borders recklessness and imperativeness; the one thing that if left unchecked can lead to immediate disaster, but if properly directed can be the only thing that will save this weary world.
Without future thinking, where is our salvation?

* * *

Making other people do stuff

After a delay of almost one year (over 8 months to be exact, and to counter my exaggeration), my project to start a volunteer corps of youth and members of the community in the CJA is finally underway. Now instead of remaining an under-staffed, under-supported, stigmatized Center, we are bringing in people to help out. This was my idea from the beginning: to recognize the resources that are already available in the community to cover some of the activity needs of the Center, and take advantage of them—instead of trying to do everything myself. This, the bringing in of volunteers, accomplishes a number of things: it diversifies the type and number of activities available to the girls at the Center, it holds the community more responsible for taking care of the needs of its under-served, it reduces the stigma surrounding the Center by letting people see what the girls are truly like, it sensitizes youth and community members to the needs of this special youth population, it provides valuable experience to youth volunteers and others interested in gaining experience working with children and leading activities, it provides excellent and positive role models for the girls through active and responsible youth, it allows people who have more knowledge and are better at things than I am (or CJA staff are) take control and spread their knowledge, and it gives more opportunities for the girls to learn appropriate behavior in the Center and during activities. You see? It’s a win-win situation. Getting other people excited about doing stuff for you is good all around.

In all actuality, though, I am pretty excited about this program, though with realistic doubts about its initial success—it will be a bumpy road, and I have to do everything I can so that the youth don’t quit right away. We signed up 10 volunteers (after 2 quit), including two teachers from the local high school, interviewed them, and then gave them a small training of three basic sessions to prepare them for their service in the Center. It was stimulating to see them interact in the sessions, getting excited about helping out, and being appreciative of the time taken to give them basic yet important information. I think often youth (or people in general) are asked to help out with things as a volunteer, but are rarely offered preparation for that task they are asked to perform; they go in blind with all the willingness and good spirit in the world, but end up frustrated at not knowing what they were getting into. So I am proud that we were able to give them a little preparation, particularly if asking them to work with girls who have precarious or unstable backgrounds.

The ultimate idea is to try this out in the beginning, see how the corps functions, fix any structural or organizational problems, accompany them in any way needed, get them stable enough to take care of their activities on their own, and then slowly add more volunteers who are interested in joining. Ultimately, as my time left is short, I would like to be able to work with one of the volunteers to enable them to take over leadership of the corps when I leave. If that’s not possible, maybe I will be lucky enough to get a replacement Peace Corps Volunteer to take over my site and continue with the project. My worry is that everyone will be relying on me for its coordination and functioning, and then it will collapse without my keeping it rigid. Sustainability in Cape Verde can seem impossible at times.

So finally something is becoming concrete, finally something is taking shape from all the plans and ideas and pretty conversations. Ideas are one thing, but concrete implementation is another. This afternoon our first volunteer-led activity will take place, so we’ll see how it goes.

*Footnote: “This afternoon” has now passed, and I helped the two volunteers get settled into their tutoring of the high school students, which, I am proud to say, went marvelously! They came to me afterward with huge smiles, all excited, and told me that the experience was “super-fantastico”. That’s the terminology I like to hear.

I help youth become future doctors and lawyers

I recently finished co-leading training for 22 of our CEJ youth in the area of career orientation, a.k.a. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” It turned out to be one of my favorite things I’ve done since coming to Cape Verde, honestly. I had a great time getting to know the youth volunteers I see everyday on a deeper level, i.e. their hopes and dreams, their personal backgrounds, etc. The person I led it with (the sociologist Eneida that I mentioned earlier) was great to work with, and we had fun psycho-analyzing all of the vocational tests and questionnaires we gave them. Essentially the training was this: make them start thinking about who they are, what they like, their personality, things they could see themselves doing in the future; then we had them start investigating different careers and the schooling required to get there; then they had to interview various professionals in all different areas about how they got there, why they chose their career, etc.; then they learned what it meant to actually “choose” a field and follow after it; then we visited the Centro de Emprego e Formação Profissional, which offers vocational training in various areas and that is less expensive and time-consuming than going to university, so that they could know there are other options; then we made them do vocational tests (you know, the kind that tells you that you were meant to be a horse trainer and such) and did final interviews to help guide them to continue the process on their own. So that was the training.

I think what’s most exciting to me is taking a population who, as I mentioned earlier in this blog, don’t generally think in specific terms about their future, often assuming it will formulate out of thin air or follow the typical patterns of parents and grandparents, and showing them how many more opportunities are available to them than were existent for those previous generations. We had them do genoprofissiogramas where they labeled family tree-style what the members of their family’s professions were. 90% had parents and grandparents who were listed as farmers or housewives, with little variation. Then when they listed siblings currently studying or working, the field descriptions split open into a vast array of subject areas. Things are changing for youth here. The professionals they interviewed concurred, claiming that when it came time to decide what they wanted to do with their lives, they had little or no information available, and no one to guide them in the process—things now available to youth of this generation. This led them to choosing stereotypical or expected careers—copying, just as Cape Verde likes to do in most aspects of life.

Pois, all in all I think it was a much-needed and gratifying training to have done. We have been invited to do it in Picos, a local town, and hopefully will be able to spread it out to other CEJs and communities. Imagine what giving a little encouragement, direction, and concrete information can do to an absently wandering youth unsure of what her future holds. I certainly found a topic I truly enjoy teaching. It may not have been life-changing for all of the youth, but if it at least got them thinking more responsibly about their futures, I’m content. Here’s to the future doctors and lawyers of Cape Verde, or even better, to the future artists, engineers, businessmen, and psychologists (“luxury” careers)—of course, assuming that they actually return to the country after studying abroad. A big “if”…

Our morning group listening to the professionals speak; Eneida is the one in the flowery dress.

Three of the professionals invited, in the areas of tourism, education/philosophy, and medicine.

The other four professionals, in civil construction, administration, law, and information technology; The third one from the left (representing law), is Ivete, my famous counterpart.

This is essentially all of our morning group, attentively listening to our professionals speak.


Money, rain down on me, finally!

After a frustratingly long time of waiting and pleading and reworking the budget, I finally got some contributions to the photography project. ICCA had already promised to contribute about $350 to the project as a result of a large translation of a UN document I completed for them, and we had received all the camera donations we needed, as well as some film and batteries. I procured discounts from various companies and individuals, but still needed the actual financing—the promise of money. I talked with Teixeira, the national coordinator of the DGJ, who referred me to none other than my Paulo-run CEJ, my other job site. So I nervously begged an audience with Paulo, knowing that my good relationship with the CEJ would gain me headway, but also knowing that CEJs are “poor” and he might say no. Well in the end he agreed to fund over half of the remaining amount requested, so that is a huge step towards us actually starting the project! We are already behind schedule, meaning that if this Gambia thing works out, I will need that extra time provided in a late September COS date.

Anyway, picture me swimming in money, with a big cheesy grin…and then remember that the money is for the benefit of my girls and feel that intangible warm fuzzy. Awww. So hopefully this project will be all or most of what I have hoped it will be, or at least enough for me to complete my graduate school requirements satisfactorily. Send happy money thoughts my way so we can get the remainder of the funds, and then cross your fingers that it won’t all fall apart on account of Cape Verde’s unwillingness to recognize film photography as an art form. They can’t understand why the project won’t just use digital cameras so they can take a zillion pictures of a girl posing against a tree and then pick which one is sexiest. Rolls of film are like dinosaurs here: extinct but for the existence of the imagination.

Lost in Lost

I started watching the TV show Lost on account of evil Peace Corps Volunteers and their i-Pods complete with a plethora of seasons of shows I might never have watched if in the States. So I was given two seasons of the show, and, as in all other TV programs offered to me on DVD here in Cape Verde, I became addicted. Truly, this show is becoming more than absurd. The things that take place in this program could or would never happen in real life, and it is becoming difficult to suspend reality. Yet I continue on. Every night I watch multiple episodes, knowing that instead I could be journaling or writing music, or doing something a bit more productive. But no. I prefer the mind-numbingness of American television programmed with more and more obscure happenings to keep the audience intrigued. It’s borderline comedy at times. But I love it. And will soon be hunting after the third season without a shadow of a doubt.

Cross-cultural dating survival guide: How to keep a secret so your boyfriend’s mother doesn’t force you to get married, exchange goats, and make babies

Okay, so they don’t necessarily exchange goats in Cape Verde (maybe in some parts of the fora…), but let me just say that dating someone from a different culture will always require an understanding or openness to the different expectations and rules that exist within that culture, and possible adjustment on your part. Case in point: traditional-minded families in Cape Verde (i.e. the parent and grandparent generation, or my boyfriend’s mom) tend to feel that “dating around” is a bit wretched and irresponsible. Bringing different girls home periodically is a sign that you aren’t serious and are just playing around (sounds possibly familiar to our own culture), even if those girls are just friends. If you are dating one of them, it is expected that you stay with them, take them to church, and mold them into Mom’s perfect daughter-in-law. Currently my boyfriend’s family (though I have been friends with them, continually spending extended evenings at their home and engaging in lively discussions on gender relations, for about a year) doesn’t know we’re together. In the States, this would upset me; I don’t like feeling as though my life must be kept a secret, and have certain standards or expectations as to how I want to be treated. But it’s different here (*Side note: I don’t generally like displaying my private life—or particularly that of others involved—for the masses, but I will try to keep this as nonspecific as possible.). Here, the fact that I will likely be leaving the country in 7 months is grounds for immediate disqualification, causing a huge rupture between my significant other and his family—something I’m not a fan of doing. So the current answer, it seems, is to remain underground, enjoying what we have without manufacturing a billboard for its publicity.

I believe that through this relationship I am discovering so much more about who I am, which has made it so well worth it. It helped me to realize what all of those years of being single had produced in me, what they had made me into. And I like the result. The strength, pride, confidence, independence. I am okay with letting this relationship be what it is—I don’t feel the need to put pressure on it, make it into something it isn’t, place American expectations on a poor young Cape Verdean; I am completely content enjoying what I have in the moment, knowing that it will likely be given up somewhere along the road. This may sound cheap, but it’s not—I don’t mean to say that I have no emotions involved, that I am just having fun; rather, I have freed myself to care for someone within limitations. As a fellow Assomada PCV tells me, “Carpe Diem”: seize the day. Enjoy what you’ve got while you’ve got it, instead of throwing something away because it didn’t come in the perfect package your life plan allowed for. At least this is what I continually try to convince my overambitious, worried-about-the-future, afraid-of-getting-hurt boyfriend of daily. Ironically the reasons that make me care so much about him (being educated, hard-working, ambitious, mature, intelligent) are the reasons things are made more complicated. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So even though my current relationship isn’t the Hollywood image of A+B must = C, it is fulfilling, rewarding, comfortable, and nice. The world makes so much more sense sometimes if you just let things be what they want or need to be. Stop trying to put things in a narrowly defined box according to your own desired dimensions. Let things take the form they need to.

I guess that’s my scattered advice on dating in foreign cultures. Hopefully this isn’t more than you wanted or needed to know about my personal life.

Violence in Assomada—thanks, Tuggies and homemade guns.

About two weeks ago, a 17-year-old boy shot and killed his 18-year-old girlfriend, subsequently shooting and killing himself, all with a gun he made himself at home (here called “boka bedju”), and all because the girl wanted to break up with him (many versions of the situation float around, but this seems to be the one that has stuck). Two very young individuals dead and for such a strangely simplistic reason. Coincidentally, the following week, another young woman was killed in Praia by her boyfriend, the reason for which I am a bit fuzzy on at the moment, but that I know is something inconsequential regarding their relationship.

When I first heard about the case in Assomada, I was outraged. Why? It’s certainly not the first time two youth have killed each other, not even the first over such a minor issue. But here in Assomada, those things don’t (or didn’t) normally happen. And what has me concerned is that they are happening more and more, senseless violence and the killing of youth in a normally peaceful community. People get outraged over the most insignificant things—silly barfights and desirable fofas—and instead of handling it in any kind of constructive manner, death ensues, generally surrounded by an air of grogue and drunken cursing. The one thing Cape Verde had to offer that so many other African or developing countries didn’t was its peace and lack of overt violence. Now with all the globalized media coming in from around the world and 50 Cent music coaxing 5-year-old Cape Verdean children to sleep, violence is seeping in with it. They see it on TV, in the rap videos, in the music lyrics, and it becomes normal, okay, the appropriate manifestation of rebellion against authority. Damn the man, they interpret, by grabbing a knife or makeshift gun and taking out whoever it is that brings them discontent.

And truly I suppose what bothers me the most is that nothing is done about it. No attention drawn, no words spoken to the community to preempt the damaging influence on easily-molded young mentalities. No one said anything. The day it happened I talked to the CEJ about it, saying we should call a community or youth meeting and lead a discussion about why it happened, why it’s not okay, and what can be done to prevent things like it from happening in the future. They agreed, possibly to appease me, but nothing materialized due to “so many other things going on”. I do believe they thought it was necessary, but no one cares enough to be the ringleader. No one goes into the classrooms to talk to the students about it, no one holds a candlelight vigil or a march to demonstrate the senselessness of violence, no one does anything. And so it is that these notions will creep indiscriminately into the corners of Cape Verdean youths’ minds, transforming their thoughts and actions without them even noticing. All this desire for modernization, development, technology, new things from abroad, yet no attention paid to preventing all those nasties that come with urbanization and development. A shame.

The afternoon after it happened, I caught a group of my CEJ youth (volunteer activists, examples in the community) playing with a plastic gun bought at a Chinese loja. They were joking around, laughing, pointing it at each other, showing children how to point it. One of the most unbelievable sights I’ve seen yet. I was so enraged, I could barely shout out the Kriolu to demonstrate my displeasure. The first day I have been truly disappointed in my youth. And I was sure to let them know it. If not even our exemplary youth can show kids that violence isn’t a joke, even with a plastic gun, who will?

Two years is a long time to spend out of your country

I have immense respect and sympathy for individuals (i.e. immigrants and emigrants) who live the majority of their lives, or at least a significant number of years, outside of their native country speaking a non-native tongue, whether by choice or not. I have not even made it two years without the occasional maddening sodadi that makes me long for a stroll through Portland’s downtown or a pause at a Seattle café overlooking the pier. Read: I am not necessarily a permanent flag-waving U.S. citizen in the immediate future, but I miss Starbucks and specialized coffee drinks. And lots of trees. And bookstores. And the smell of rain (*crosses fingers knowing that once this is claimed, she will be held accountable later when she is cursing the relentless downpour*).

While almost two years has gone by laughably quickly, stop to think about just how long that is. How many things can occur within two years? People get married, die, have babies, lose jobs, get new ones, divorce, move houses, rearrange life plans, start and finish school, become President, get sent to and released from jail, and about a million other somethings that turn pages in the history of individual lives. Trying to recount the million somethings that have occurred in my life alone since I’ve been here is a task too fever-inducing to confront at the moment.

Anyway, I miss Merka with all its atrocities and over-consumption and reality TV (yeah, honestly there’s no fragment of me that misses that). I think a month’s vacation should take care of that sodadi, and then I can move on to new worlds, coming back for brief moments of remembrance. Sounds like a plan for now, though my plans tend to change with my mood and the wind patterns. It’s the plan for the next few hours anyway.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Dreams and screams and mean, mean green teams

I have neglected you all beyond forgiveness. I was thinking about how frequently I blogged before (despite regular breaks), and how much information has been collected onto this site over the past almost two years. Then I thought of how much information has been lost recently by not writing it down, not sharing it, not releasing it through thoughtful analysis and creative expression. Nothing is ever completely lost if it remains a part of us, which the past several months has for me. But nonetheless, it would have been good to write...

Right now. Here is who I am right now: I realized lately just how much I have grown as an individual, how much I like who I am becoming, and how much I have left to learn and experience. I have become so much more confident, I say what I mean and feel without hiding or "prettying it up", I have become less passive aggressive, I have fought for what I feel to be important and chased after seemingly impossible feats. And have done a large part of it alone, solitary. I have always been blessed with the support of you all at home, and truly have individuals in my life others only dream of, but really and actually, I have fought for my causes without a lot of side-by-side encouragement or resources, nor many interested ears for that matter. Youth development around most of the world isn't the sexiest of areas, making it of less obvious interest to most, making me a lone ranger in the development world at times. But all drama aside, I feel like I am finally starting to accomplish things personally, professionally, etc.

Let's try to clarify the jumble. I am happy. I like what I'm doing, and I feel I have a good deal to offer. I finally took the advice of a wise PCV who finished her service last year--Tina--who always said the key to being a successful volunteer was in being selfish. Yeah, yeah, we're here to help and give all of ourselves, and humbly serve without pay, but sometimes the best lesson we can learn is to be selfish. To know when taking care of ourselves is more important than João Baptista's need to learn English at the moment. To know when to go out for coffee or tea if it means we'll be renewed and released from a few brief moments of stress. So I learned to be a little selfish, and not to worry so much about dedicating every spare moment to those who need me, learning I don't have to say yes to everything. I became healthily selfish. Thanks, Tina.

So I am happy in many ways. I found a great working partner at the CEJ in the new sociologist, with whom I have been giving a training in career orientation/guidance to local youth in our community. She likes to take coffee breaks with me, so we do just fine. She is driven, intelligent, passionate, and fun, so I pretty much adore working with her.

I am also seeing someone new, for the past few months, which admittedly helps to relieve a fair bit of stress, though admittedly cross-cultural relationships are never as easy as envisioned. I am able to enjoy it because I am letting it be what it is, taking whatever form it needs to take, without pressure on either end. We are both very ambitious and concerned with our futures, so neither would expect a major life decision taken on behalf of the other. This is good for someone like me who doesn't plan on giving up her dreams any time soon.

Another stress reliever: the gym. Yes the developing world has gyms. And yes, ours has an elliptical machine. And about 20 adolescent African males attempting to bulk up without having been taught appropriate weight-training principles. It's a sight. And a smell. Phew.

Currently it seems that things might be moving along smoothly regarding my potential transfer for a third year on the continent. Don't want to put the cart before the horse, but the Gambia has offered me a position opening up a site with an international youth NGO, the training for which would start in November, giving me plenty of time to finish up all my projects satisfactorily here, take my home leave in the US, and get to work. We'll see how it works out, but it seems an exciting possibility. I'll keep you updated.

I am falling over from exhaustion, so I am going to sign off this brief update for now and go run to the gym with my Brazilian friend Denise.

What do we think of the current presidential candidates? Any updates, opinions, concrete facts to offer this un-informed island dweller? It's a stretch to ask for any of you to actually write comments on this blog (yes that's sarcastic, and yes it's pointed at all of you who read but don't seem to have any opinions...which doesn't mean you, Mom), but if you should feel so inclined, pass some tidbits my way. Please?

Seriously, people, as much as I like writing and posting pictures for my own benefit to look back on, it would be nice to know that the world takes a tiny interest. What diverse population of individuals reads this?? I'm curious.

Take care, be back soon with pictures of my recent vacation.