I'm in Fogo. Enjoying the volcano and currently the unbearable São Felipe heat. I will write about Fogo at another time, just wanted people to know I was alive. I will also write a detailed description of my Maio experience, as well as perhaps a summary of PST and this past summer. So much for you all to look forward to! Big promises, we'll see if I can pull through.
My mama is flying in soooooo soon!!!! I cannot believe how excited I am to see her, and honestly don't know how I have made it over a year without seeing a single family member. I think I might burst into tears when I see her in the airport. It might be embarrassing.
For now that is all I will say until I can post pictures and in-depth updates. Except there won't be many pictures of Fogo because my batteries decided to stop functioning and that's one thing you really can't get in Cape Verde: quality batteries. So all the deliciously wondrous images I have collected in Fogo will have to remain in my head. Sorry.
Hope everyone is doing fabulous and enjoying the last bits of their summer! I am.
Friday, September 07, 2007
Sunday, August 12, 2007
FEIA.
This will be brief. I just came downstairs and was abruptly thrown into an elated state at the news that Peace Corps has put internet in the training house. Free internet. Wowsers.
So I am taking advantage to throw out a brief update. If I have learned nothing else in my year in Peace Corps, I have learned the utility of brevity, so I will bullet out my important points to be eventually followed by Jack Handy-esque "deep thoughts" in the next weeks. Over the last two months or so...:
So I am taking advantage to throw out a brief update. If I have learned nothing else in my year in Peace Corps, I have learned the utility of brevity, so I will bullet out my important points to be eventually followed by Jack Handy-esque "deep thoughts" in the next weeks. Over the last two months or so...:
- The new Trainees arrived and are spread throughout my concelho (county) happy in their homestays. It seems that the new model of Pre-Service Training is running smoothly, at the very least much more smoothly than ours went last year. They are picking up language quickly and have very few complaints--it's practically a miracle, as last year all we did was complain about the ineffectiveness of the program. So kudos to PST staff and the new model.
- The four YD Trainees shadowed me for five days, stayed in my house, went to the girls' Center with me, and hopefully got an idea of what life is like for a YD volunteer. With the presence of four new people, I couldn't do some of the things I would normally do at the Center (attend institutional meetings, write proposals, and go on family visits), so instead I think they felt like camp counselors most of the time. But the girls adored them and all the extra attention--it was like Christmas at the Center. I appreciated the chance for them to see what life is like for a Volunteer in my sector, even if I struggled to juggle four different individuals' needs and interests. Hopefully it worked out alright and they learned a thing or two.
- One of the YD Trainees (I swear some of these bullet points will be related to non-PST topics) decided to leave, as being here serving in Cape Verde wasn't where she decided she should be at this time. I am sad to see her go, she is an excellent individual, very sweet and funny and very experienced, but I am happy that hopefully she will be in a more appropriate place for now--and that she decided beforehand, rather than waiting until she was already at site.
- Just last week, the psychologist (Ercilia) announced that she had accepted the position as the new coordenator of the Center, which so far seems like an excellent decision. She will do a wonderful job, I am confident. Within the first week, Ercilia asked for my help in preparing a large proposal for support from the Cape Verdean institution that combats AIDS in funding a year-long training project we want to do with the maes and girls. We have been talking forever about how much the maes need to be trained and helped to know how better to work with troubled children, to give both them and the girls support in their day-to-day interactions, and have been waiting all year for approval from ICCA for the trainings, with no success, so Ercilia found a new way to get it done. It is a grant for over $20,000, so I'm really keeping my fingers crossed.
- The other day I was walking down the road in the direction of my house, and I saw an old woman walking the opposite direction. I usually like to say good morning/afternoon to people I see in town, including people I don't know, just to be friendly and show respect; so I was about to say "bon dia"to the woman, and before I could finish the "bon", she looked me directly and unfalteringly in the eye, with no particular hatred nor humor, and said loudly and strongly, "Feia"--ugly. It took me by complete shock so that I didn't know what to say. She kept walking, as did I, and I just had to laugh at its irony. Every day, multiple times a day to the extent that I believe that one day I might snap and punch someone in the stomach, I am called "beautiful white girl" by sleezy Cape Verdean men. No matter what I do or what I look like, my skin color and appearance affords me the privilege of beauty, as well as the curse of being seen as little more than a body wrapped in white and detailed with blonde hair and blue eyes. Normally I am "beautiful". This day I was "ugly". Ha.
- I decided once the newbies swear in as Volunteers on September 1st I am going to disappear and take a small trip to Fogo, where hopefully no one will "bother" me and I can relax and recuperate from a long summer. I need it, and I deserve it.
- Nick is gone in South Africa for three weeks of vacation, which means I have the house to myself--hooray! No offense, Nick, but sometimes it's just nice to be able to walk around the house in your underwear and sing as loud as you want.
- I will likely be sent to the island of Maio for a week with the CEJ to help promote and develop the Centro em Movimento program that has been running all summer long. Free trip to Maio is always nice, though it means I will miss the new Trainee's site announcement, which we have been making cool pinatas for. Oh well, can't be everywhere at once.
- I have been translating for the CulturArt program that just started for the first time in Cape Verde, and it has been fabulous! It brings in 20 US high school students and 30 Cape Verdean students for a two week intensive training in the arts (vocal music, instrumental music, theater, dance, and visual arts), which they then present in various communities and finally in a concert in Praia. It was so encouraging to be around such creative juices and artistic passion! I am pretty much done with my part now, and I had such a wonderful time. Unfortunately I won't be there for the final concert since I will be in Maio, but hopefully it will go wonderfully. I may give more details on this program later...
Unfortunately time is out for now. But there will be more updates soon if my life ever "settles". Yeah right. But I promise I will try. But more important is responding to letters I have received--sorry for the wait, guys. I appreciate your correspondence, though!
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Visual pleasure.
Sorry for the delay in the blogging, folks. You can blame all the new Trainees who are in town and occupying all my time:) I really do like them though, don't get me wrong...
These were from when we went camping at Angra, a little cove a few minutes from Ribeira da Barca. The guy rowing is Tcheka's nephew (Tcheka is the internationally famous Cape Verdean musician that apparently I am supposed to marry someday.)
After camping, we went hiking up to get some mango. This is a man who owns the mango tree and is picking the mangos, putting them in a bucket, which he lowers to his friend through a pulley system. Cool.
Cinza came to the beach with me and the girls one day. She fared quite well. Stuck to the shade a lot, but I think she could definitely be a beach kitty.
We had a superhero costume party for Tina and Jonah's goodbye party. Upon Paige's suggestion, I went as FlavaCourt, my own spinoff of FlavaFlav. Superpower: always able to tell the time in any situation. Weakness: water--very difficult to tell time under water.
The maes of the Center got all dressed up for the girls' first communion and had me do a mini photo shoot (as always). This is all four of them.
Patricia. She's adorable. She chose to pose like this, and I thought the pic turned out pretty great:)
This is the first communion party when a bunch of the girls made their first communion in the Catholic church.
More first communion fun.
And a little more.
And yes...a little more.
This is when we gave out the soccer ball donations that a colleague of my mother's sent to Cape Verde. They looooved them.
The girls got baptized in the Catholic church the day before their first communion. This wast that day.
This is just to update on some photos, so here goes:
These were from when we went camping at Angra, a little cove a few minutes from Ribeira da Barca. The guy rowing is Tcheka's nephew (Tcheka is the internationally famous Cape Verdean musician that apparently I am supposed to marry someday.)After camping, we went hiking up to get some mango. This is a man who owns the mango tree and is picking the mangos, putting them in a bucket, which he lowers to his friend through a pulley system. Cool.
Cinza came to the beach with me and the girls one day. She fared quite well. Stuck to the shade a lot, but I think she could definitely be a beach kitty.
We had a superhero costume party for Tina and Jonah's goodbye party. Upon Paige's suggestion, I went as FlavaCourt, my own spinoff of FlavaFlav. Superpower: always able to tell the time in any situation. Weakness: water--very difficult to tell time under water.
The maes of the Center got all dressed up for the girls' first communion and had me do a mini photo shoot (as always). This is all four of them.
Patricia. She's adorable. She chose to pose like this, and I thought the pic turned out pretty great:)
This is the first communion party when a bunch of the girls made their first communion in the Catholic church.
More first communion fun.
And a little more.
And yes...a little more.
This is when we gave out the soccer ball donations that a colleague of my mother's sent to Cape Verde. They looooved them.
The girls got baptized in the Catholic church the day before their first communion. This wast that day.That's all for now. Don't worry, I'll be writing an actual update soon. Rest assured that I am ridiculously busy, a little stressed, and trying to destress myself by watching Grey's Anatomy season 3. It is good.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Boohoo for strep:(
I have strep throat:( Sad. And apparently I'm contagious, so no one should be around me. Looks like I'll be isolated in my room watching movies for the rest of the day. Really, I'm crying...seriously...okay, I'm actually happy for the break.
In other news, last weekend we went camping in Rincon with crazy Mike, and that was fun, except for the mountain climbing in flip flops and a sleeping bag loosely tied to your backpack. Minga (Mel's cat, Cinza's sister) came along for the trip and was quite the camper! She fared marvelously, so I'm thinking of trying Cinza out next weekend when I go camping at Angra again. We'll see. I'll be sure to take pictures if I do.
The girls had their baptism and first communion ceremonies this weekend, and it was so cute to see them all dressed up in their cheesy white tafida dresses like little brides. I was the official photographer (again), so I'll post some pictures later. On Saturday we had a big lunch with all the families who could make it, so it was madness in the Center. Someone brought a huge elaborate wedding cake. Huh. I couldn't really enjoy it as much as I wanted to, with my strep throat and being about to pass out (I didn't know I officially had strep, otherwise I wouldn't have gone around infecting people...sorry).
Other than that I'm pretty sure there's not much to say. I have been indisposed for the last 4 days, so not much has been accomplished. Except I did have a meeting with this woman who is organizing an arts training-slash-future school course program that will take place in August. They bring in 20 US students and select 30 Cape Verdean youth to participate in this intense workshop in various areas of the creative arts--music, theater, dance, and "art" art (like painting and sculptures, etc.). It's new and pretty brilliant, so I hope it works out. She wants me and other PCVs to help out with translation and making sure the program runs smoothly, so hopefully I will be able to be of some assistance.
Okay, that's all for now. Hope everyone at home is lovely:)
In other news, last weekend we went camping in Rincon with crazy Mike, and that was fun, except for the mountain climbing in flip flops and a sleeping bag loosely tied to your backpack. Minga (Mel's cat, Cinza's sister) came along for the trip and was quite the camper! She fared marvelously, so I'm thinking of trying Cinza out next weekend when I go camping at Angra again. We'll see. I'll be sure to take pictures if I do.
The girls had their baptism and first communion ceremonies this weekend, and it was so cute to see them all dressed up in their cheesy white tafida dresses like little brides. I was the official photographer (again), so I'll post some pictures later. On Saturday we had a big lunch with all the families who could make it, so it was madness in the Center. Someone brought a huge elaborate wedding cake. Huh. I couldn't really enjoy it as much as I wanted to, with my strep throat and being about to pass out (I didn't know I officially had strep, otherwise I wouldn't have gone around infecting people...sorry).
Other than that I'm pretty sure there's not much to say. I have been indisposed for the last 4 days, so not much has been accomplished. Except I did have a meeting with this woman who is organizing an arts training-slash-future school course program that will take place in August. They bring in 20 US students and select 30 Cape Verdean youth to participate in this intense workshop in various areas of the creative arts--music, theater, dance, and "art" art (like painting and sculptures, etc.). It's new and pretty brilliant, so I hope it works out. She wants me and other PCVs to help out with translation and making sure the program runs smoothly, so hopefully I will be able to be of some assistance.
Okay, that's all for now. Hope everyone at home is lovely:)
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Forca, Cinza, forca...
I realized I should update about TOT (Training of Trainers....and also apparently Transportation of Things, for which an acronym was deemed necessary by international development monsters)--the week of training we had to prepare us for the new PST and the new group of Trainees coming July 1st. Surprisingly, it went better than I thought it would. We worked hard, and even though it was all left in a rush with a bit of ambiguity (not enough time to plan an entire 9-week training program), we mapped out potential calendars of what we want to do in our sectors during our technical sessions. We will be split off into our sectors quite a bit, so it gives me a decent chance to work on preparing the youth development group, get them all beefed up for service. Wish me luck and pray that the Trainees are made of tough stuff--eager and willing to work with the kiddies.
I came back, missing my girls and mas ou menos (more or less) ready to get some work done. That of course was when I found out Andreia was leaving for good. A little air in the balloon let out, but oh well. I am playing the waiting game on my tiptoes, wondering if I should keep advancing with my projects, or if they will all crumble...it's getting a little tiring to rely so much on others for things to come through. But that's what development is supposed to be about, right? It's not about me, though I'm starting to feel a bit useless.
Last night I talked to my mom, which made me miss Paige, which made me realize I hadn't talked to her in awhile, which made me realize that my sister is busily building her life, her independence, and her strength. This in turn gave me strength, knowing that if she can step up and take care of herself, accomplish what she wants and knows she is capable of, so can I. Right? Right. So instead of sitting around feeling sorry for myself, I need to jump up and grab it by the horns, find my satisfaction one way or another. Thanks Paige.
P.S. Cinza I think is sick...she won't eat anything I give her and stopped taking the medicine I need to give her. Sad face. Pray for her...
I came back, missing my girls and mas ou menos (more or less) ready to get some work done. That of course was when I found out Andreia was leaving for good. A little air in the balloon let out, but oh well. I am playing the waiting game on my tiptoes, wondering if I should keep advancing with my projects, or if they will all crumble...it's getting a little tiring to rely so much on others for things to come through. But that's what development is supposed to be about, right? It's not about me, though I'm starting to feel a bit useless.
Last night I talked to my mom, which made me miss Paige, which made me realize I hadn't talked to her in awhile, which made me realize that my sister is busily building her life, her independence, and her strength. This in turn gave me strength, knowing that if she can step up and take care of herself, accomplish what she wants and knows she is capable of, so can I. Right? Right. So instead of sitting around feeling sorry for myself, I need to jump up and grab it by the horns, find my satisfaction one way or another. Thanks Paige.
P.S. Cinza I think is sick...she won't eat anything I give her and stopped taking the medicine I need to give her. Sad face. Pray for her...
Monday, June 04, 2007
Catching up on photos
Picture time! First things first. This morning we had a march for International day for Child Victims of Aggression. I helped make posters and the kids from Picos, Assomada, and the local SOS marched through the streets "silently" (yeah right).
Item #2: We had a Goonies costume party in Assomada. I had never seen the Goonies, but apparently it involves both the 80s and pirates. So we had to dress as either one. I chose the 80s, of course. Here are some pics:
This is Alex. She is great.
Please note that my highly appropriate bright blue 80s pants bought at a nearby Chinese loja (store) say "phisycal"--not only heinous but misspelled. This is the perfect example of what China has had to offer Cape Verde. Awful translations and blindingly ridiculous clothing.
This is Alex. She is great.
Please note that my highly appropriate bright blue 80s pants bought at a nearby Chinese loja (store) say "phisycal"--not only heinous but misspelled. This is the perfect example of what China has had to offer Cape Verde. Awful translations and blindingly ridiculous clothing.Item#3: Taking the girls to Serra Malagueta. I mentioned this in my last blog, now here are some pictures.
Mel got to show off her knowledge of the park; very cool to watch her in action:)
Item #4: More pictures of Cinza. The necklace you see on her lasted less than 24 hours. She kept getting it caught in her teeth, leaving her mouth gaping open in trapped panic. It was kind of hilarious. I thought she would learn not to try and chew on it, but after the fourth time, I cut it off. A shame. It was a pretty necklace.
Before I go: Andreia is officially leaving for Portugal. She has about 3 weeks left before she is gone. Ercília has taken her vacation early due to stress and is now not here to help me get the volunteer corps started. I am a bit frustrated this morning because now I have no idea how any of the projects I have been working on will turn out. We have no one to run the formações we have been planning for the volunteers because the two women I just mentioned are the ones helping me organize it and give the sessions, and the youth have been waiting to start for a month now. I am at a sort of crossroads. Don't know what to say or how it will go. Check back in soon.
Mel got to show off her knowledge of the park; very cool to watch her in action:)
Item #4: More pictures of Cinza. The necklace you see on her lasted less than 24 hours. She kept getting it caught in her teeth, leaving her mouth gaping open in trapped panic. It was kind of hilarious. I thought she would learn not to try and chew on it, but after the fourth time, I cut it off. A shame. It was a pretty necklace.
Before I go: Andreia is officially leaving for Portugal. She has about 3 weeks left before she is gone. Ercília has taken her vacation early due to stress and is now not here to help me get the volunteer corps started. I am a bit frustrated this morning because now I have no idea how any of the projects I have been working on will turn out. We have no one to run the formações we have been planning for the volunteers because the two women I just mentioned are the ones helping me organize it and give the sessions, and the youth have been waiting to start for a month now. I am at a sort of crossroads. Don't know what to say or how it will go. Check back in soon.Saturday, May 26, 2007
PARASITES!
Mel and I took our kitties to the vet to get their first vaccinations, but it turns out they both have parasites, so we have to give them medicine for a week before we can get their shots. Let me say that bringing kitties in their own little boxes on a hiace is apparently quite the sight to see. People were fascinated by the little squealing kittens that two brancas were carrying around like children. They smiled, laughed, or stared, and we sat with our daughters throughout the hour-long bumpy ride. As we got to Praia, a woman got out carrying her squawking chicken by the neck. No big deal. No one looks twice at a live chicken in a hiace, but kittens? Kittens? No way. We are such a freak show. Walking around the Plateau with our kittens in boxes was like, as Mel put it, seeing a man trailing a goat behind him walking around New York City. Just plain out of place.
The second years are all in town for their COS (close of service) conference, as they are all getting ready to leave the country, finished with their two years. Additionally, Kat (a previous PCV who moved back to Cape Verde to be with her boyfriend and is now bring him back to the US with her) stayed at our house last night because she and her man are leaving for the States on Monday. So the last few days (okay months really) were spent talking almost exclusively about all the glory and missed food items of the States. About how much we miss it, how much we want to go there, how much better it is there than here (grass is always greener...). It's a little too much for me, making me homesick as there is already very little keeping me here. But there are also a few PCVs who are extending their service on the Continent, so that gives me hope that after I'm done I can make the switch to a different atmosphere, one I wanted from the beginning.
Thursday we took the girls to the Protected Areas (the natural park Mel works at) on a field trip. We had this trip planned for a couple weeks, but the day before our driver announced he wasn't coming to work--for personal reasons--, so we were out a driver. We borrowed the driver from the Picos Center, and he chose to tell us as we got there that he needed to be back in Assomada at 3:30, two hours before we had planned to go back. So instead of having a full afternoon of environmental fun and all the activities Mel's team had planned, we had a quick hour jaunt through one of the trails to see some endemic plants and the large water collection panels. So frustrating, and poor Mel who had to scramble at the last minute to cram it all in. I'm so sick of doing activities with people from the Center. It just makes me annoyed, and the girls are always the ones who get the shaft. And now Andreia is getting on my nerves because she spends every day complaining and freaking out about work--how much she hates her job, how much she wants to leave, how the girls are little terrors. It's just getting annoying, and it's bringing me down as well. Leave, then! If you hate it so much, go find a job in Portugal. I know it sounds so mean to say that, but goodness. If you're that miserable, it's better for your mental health, and mine.
Anyway, that's the last few days. I'm still going back and forth with my new multiple personality disorder where one minute I'm content and the next I'm wondering why I'm here. We'll see what tomorrow brings.
P.S. I would really like to know how everyone at home is doing, and it's been awhile since I've heard from people--except my mom of course (love you!). So drop me a line and let me know what's up, what's new in your lives. Distract me with tales of America. Send me pictures, something! I miss you all.
The second years are all in town for their COS (close of service) conference, as they are all getting ready to leave the country, finished with their two years. Additionally, Kat (a previous PCV who moved back to Cape Verde to be with her boyfriend and is now bring him back to the US with her) stayed at our house last night because she and her man are leaving for the States on Monday. So the last few days (okay months really) were spent talking almost exclusively about all the glory and missed food items of the States. About how much we miss it, how much we want to go there, how much better it is there than here (grass is always greener...). It's a little too much for me, making me homesick as there is already very little keeping me here. But there are also a few PCVs who are extending their service on the Continent, so that gives me hope that after I'm done I can make the switch to a different atmosphere, one I wanted from the beginning.
Thursday we took the girls to the Protected Areas (the natural park Mel works at) on a field trip. We had this trip planned for a couple weeks, but the day before our driver announced he wasn't coming to work--for personal reasons--, so we were out a driver. We borrowed the driver from the Picos Center, and he chose to tell us as we got there that he needed to be back in Assomada at 3:30, two hours before we had planned to go back. So instead of having a full afternoon of environmental fun and all the activities Mel's team had planned, we had a quick hour jaunt through one of the trails to see some endemic plants and the large water collection panels. So frustrating, and poor Mel who had to scramble at the last minute to cram it all in. I'm so sick of doing activities with people from the Center. It just makes me annoyed, and the girls are always the ones who get the shaft. And now Andreia is getting on my nerves because she spends every day complaining and freaking out about work--how much she hates her job, how much she wants to leave, how the girls are little terrors. It's just getting annoying, and it's bringing me down as well. Leave, then! If you hate it so much, go find a job in Portugal. I know it sounds so mean to say that, but goodness. If you're that miserable, it's better for your mental health, and mine.
Anyway, that's the last few days. I'm still going back and forth with my new multiple personality disorder where one minute I'm content and the next I'm wondering why I'm here. We'll see what tomorrow brings.
P.S. I would really like to know how everyone at home is doing, and it's been awhile since I've heard from people--except my mom of course (love you!). So drop me a line and let me know what's up, what's new in your lives. Distract me with tales of America. Send me pictures, something! I miss you all.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
My hump
So today, yesterday, and Monday I was happy. Am happy. I'm not sure why, not sure of an explanation, but I don't want to jinx it by speculating. I want to just enjoy the momentary contentedness. Am I on my way over the hump? I don't know, because there are still the same dissatisfying aspects of my life here. I still struggle. But for now, for this week, I am not in such bad shape. Enjoy it with me.
Friday, May 18, 2007
My broken body lays still
Not only is my computer not functioning (Cinza chewed through the AC adaptor cord), but my pin drive decided to just stop working. No available information or access to producing that information for Courtney. This serves as a small part of my explanation for not updating sooner, as what I did type up is trapped on the pin drive that won’t release its treasure. The other part is that these last few weeks have not been fun for me, very emotionally challenging. This reduces my motivation to rewrite what was written and fill in events from the last month. As a brief list: I camped with a bunch of Cape Verdean friends on a local beach you have to take a small rowboat to get to, there was another festa in Assomada (every town has their own saints day, so there are parties literally every weekend somewhere on the island) and a festa in Orgãos at which I helped run a booth and sell chicken, my cat has so far chewed through two sets of cheap Chinese headphones and a bag of chocolate cookies I had hidden, Alex (the transfer that shadowed with me a couple months ago) is officially living in Assomada now and working with Mel in the protected areas, I have given up running and am starting to lose all motivation for any form of exercise, I have been helping paint the Center, making stencils of bunnies and hearts and flowers and such, and I will officially be helping out with the new group’s training for most of the month of August. I think that’s about it for now. Enjoy the following journals, which will likely be depressing. Sorry about that.
5/10/07
Today I am broken. Crestfallen, crushed, split wide open, and honestly admittedly so. Too many trick mirrors surround me and deceive what I’m supposed to believe and expect to be true. I looked around me today and found nothing that made me feel confident in myself. Instead hundreds of tiny unimportant things reminded me of how I don’t fit into anyone’s standards, superficially or otherwise. I sweat because it’s hot, and subsequently smell because available deodorant here is like expensive water on a stick—not at all functioning. My white feet get dirty because of the moisture mixing with the constantly swirling dirt in the air from the returned bruma seca that worsens my recently-acquired asthma, leaving me breathless, sweaty, and smelly. I am fatter because the only thing in my life that can remain under my control is whether or not I get to eat peanut butter on bread when I get home from an impossible day of 9 to 5 first-world-looking-yet-third-world-feeling hell of needy and neglected little girls. My hair is a frizzy, sticky mess that I’m tempted to shave off if not for the teeny piece of American vanity that underskirts my desire to cast off all traces of appearances. Also inhibiting the desire to cast off is the fact that here I am expected to look good, presentable, clean, professional, virtually 24 hours a day. No wrinkles, no dirt on the light cream pants, no sweat on the recently acne-laden skin. So even if I could affirm within myself to eliminate vanity and certain standards of “cleanliness” and no longer care what I look like, the place in which I find myself doesn’t allow it. I am in Africa yet I’m not in Africa. I’m in the developed world yet I’m not in the developed world. I can walk for twenty minutes and reach villages where there are no bathrooms, no electricity, and no running water, where there are families of at least 9 barefoot, hungry children, and to whom education still seems an abstract irrelevance. I can then walk the twenty minutes back into a community in which dress of the business casual nature is a given, coffee breaks and shoe-shopping trips are essential (to “de-stress”), and no one questions the brilliance and glory of traveling to Portugal or France, and perhaps not returning. How does one balance out the weight of two imperfect worlds in a young idealistic mind? I am living two realities at once, often enjoying neither. In the US, you can get away with easily ignoring the existence of an underdeveloped, starving, and neglected “third world” (no longer a PC phrase, replaced by…?), and perhaps in that starving and neglected Country X you can get away with ignoring the fact that mP3 players, laptop computers, and Tivo to save all the mind-numbing nonsense exist. Perhaps one or the other could be conceivably satisfying on its own, depending on what it is you want or need in life. But here you have both looking you in the eyeball day in and day out, unable to escape the simultaneous existence of both worlds, each demanding of you what the demands of the other contradicts. This is life in Cape Verde.
It is commonly accepted that there are two differing perceptions of time in the world, one quite calculating and the other quite immeasurable. A friend recently told me that here, they each exist, though the latter exists under the restrictions and confines of the former so that the power-holders that define the time choose whether or not time should be measured today and how. So you’re never quite sure if today, for this meeting, 15 minutes equals 15 minutes, or if 15 minutes will equal 2-3 hours. You’re never quite sure if when told to appear at 8:00am, showing up at 8:30 will be 30 minutes late or 2 hours early. The regulations of the two intertwining standards of existence don’t always communicate, to the extent that you sometimes feel as though you’re playing a game in which the rules are being defined as you go. Everything remains picture-perfect on the surface, I continue to be a member of the Posh Corps, there appear to be multiple opportunities and a comfortable lifestyle, and rapid development seems to be “working”. Carefully lifting that top layer of perfectly-laid paint reveals the mess that the PhD-ed team of painters hurriedly neglected at the outset.
As an average individual, I would find it difficult to adjust and balance out this complicated, ethically-challenging lifestyle. As a Peace Corps Volunteer, multiply that difficulty by ten (to remain moderate) as you realize that you are laboring (blood, sweat, and tears) for what looks in all ways, shapes, and forms like a “real job” while receiving zero of the benefits of said real job. No pay, no recognition, no acknowledgement of the difficulties you are facing as you may receive if viewed as an actual employee. The 9 to 5 without the advantage of built-in stress relievers available at home. Can’t go out for drinks or run to the gym or be anywhere alone at night. Being a Volunteer elsewhere may involve a certain level of ambiguity, undefined and wide open (a whole other set of difficulties); being a Volunteer in Cape Verde is like working for free at the UN. Expected to look and dress well and maintain a certain lifestyle and all its self-enhancing delicacies while not receiving the means to do so. Peace Corps pays enough: anyone who is frugal and doesn’t drink like a fish can easily more than get by. But not enough to make dress-buying trips to Praia with colleagues who hem and haw about buying last-minute vacations to Portugal. They can do that—they work intensely without stop and have paid their educational dues. But where does the Volunteer fit in?
I asked myself today what was keeping me here. My blank eyes glossed over and all I could come up with was the necessity of writing a thesis, 38 young girls’ faces, and a vague sense of responsibility or honoring commitments. Those things will probably keep me here. Probably. Oh and the useful experience and insight I’m gaining for my professional future are immense. That will help. But as an emotional, feeling, caring individual, can I not ask for more? I could commence an increased level of selfishness to preserve sanity and hold on for the remainder of my service; that will also help. But when you’re losing sense of self, how do you become selfish? I know my self as defined by my culture, my self as defined by other cultures, as defined by Dona Zuleica down the road; but where the freedom is to redefine my self according to me I have yet to discover.
Today at lunch I was told by my counterpart (Ivete), the psychologist (Ercília), and the Center coordinator (Andreia), that all three plan to or would like to leave their jobs within the year. The former two have applied to other jobs, and the latter is keeping her eye out both here and abroad, none of them able to handle the underpaid, undervalued, and under-supported job of defending and protecting children in Cape Verde any longer. The three pillars on which the Center and the girls it houses rely will likely be removed in one swift swipe of the life-sucking arm of ICCA. Bureaucracy prevails once again. What will motivate me once they’re gone?
I don’t know anymore.
I may remain broken, crestfallen, and crushed a little while longer.
Sometimes the hope of a “fresh new day” just isn’t enough anymore. Life isn’t magic.
5/14/07
I have a lot of potential hobbies. Endless things I would enjoy doing if the time existed. Whenever people used to ask me what my hobbies were (or when they do now), I would stop and think, coming up with a few general things—reading, writing, singing, listening to music, hanging out with friends (not really a hobby)—always wondering why I couldn’t come up with any “real” hobbies. Now I see. It’s because I have never had enough free time to truly develop a real hobby. Here is what I would like to do if I had abundant time to explore the world of alternative pleasurable activities: Establish a painting room (preferably with a huge picture window providing light and inspiration) and paint whatever I want; build up a music studio to record songs, just for fun; learn to play guitar and add that to music-writing abilities; learn to play piano, add that on too; refresh my photography knowledge and skills and make a dark room to develop all my photos (this maybe should go first on the list, I really want it); learn how to garden and take care of plants so that anywhere I live is always green and colorful (this one’s less likely, I tend to forget to water things and kill them); save up and buy rock-climbing equipment so I can make my rock-climbing way around the world trying new feats; learn how to snow ski and/or snowboard (save and buy equipment for that too) and finally take advantage of the wonderful Northwest mountains; learn—truly learn—the art of yoga as it ties to its original purpose (i.e. no workout tapes led by a buff, blonde American); take up tae bo; buy a bike and take biking trips in different parts of the world; make camping on the beach into a hobby; learn really magnificent salsa dancing to add to the made-up salsa that takes place in my room; buy a 4-wheeler and take it wherever they’ll let me; gather materials to make various types and styles of jewelry to give to family and friends around the world; learn to make mixed drinks and build up a wet bar in the house so I can have house parties with drink themes (I know, this is starting to get out there); learn how to hanglide and find new heights to leap from. I think that’s about enough for now. Not having a computer or any other technology makes all these things seem so possible time-wise, having eliminated spider solitaire and excess working at home. However likely none of these will happen while here in Cape Verde for reasons of the following nature: no money, no free time, no resources, no snow, no one who knows how to do 75% of these things who can teach me, minimal access to vodka, no pianos (that I’ve seen), and land that doesn’t like to grow things, much less things I try to grow. So I guess I’ll have to wait until the fictional point in my life at which these things suddenly fall perfectly into place. Here’s hoping.
5/17/07
Just a note to say I’m struggling through. Not to say that I’m a chipper little squirrel, nor to say I’m a raging, depressed lion (or something…). Just that I’m making it through. I hold on to future hopes: Paige coming in August, Mom coming in September, Dad coming in October, new PCT group coming in July and either making my job easier or much more unbearable (thanks to Peace Corps, not them). Things are coming. Hopefully they are enough to keep me going, besides the fact that I’ve committed to projects that people would like to see done. I.e. my thesis. The photography project. The income-generating hat making project. The volunteer corps at the Center. All things that are highly involved, daunting, and that have the ability to instantly drain my energy just seeing the words printed before me.
Well, anyway, I suppose I just wanted to assure you all that I am not done yet. Nor have I given up hope or admitted defeat. I’m just tired and cranky and in need of inspiration. It’s a little extra hard when virtually no one you work with likes their job. The Center is so unsupported, underappreciated, understaffed, and underpaid, and 50-75% of the staff it does have doesn’t like children, so it makes for an uninspiring work environment. I see it in their eyes, in the weary smile of Andreia, in the almost capped out patience of Ercília, in the constant sickness and physical weariness of Ivete. Things have to change, and I just don’t know how. I feel as though if things don’t get better soon, the projects I want to do won’t be accomplished.
They started sending girls home. A few weeks ago, a girl that I really liked (but who most people didn’t because of her behavior) was sent home. On Monday, three more were sent home (this time I didn’t even have time to say goodbye). Tuesday, we took two more home to Tarrafal. Another girl we tried to take home, but her dad wouldn’t accept her, so she’s back here with us. One more is heading home soon, and of course there’s Aracy, still waiting to be sent to Fogo, reminding us every second that she shouldn’t be here. It’s depressing and eye-opening—sad that we don’t have the means to deal with some of these potentially successful or well-meaning girls, and reminding us of the fact that things need to change, the structure and dynamic of the Center needs to be re-evaluated, or no one will survive here, and they’ll end up shutting it down. Maybe with some of these girls gone, the attitude and environment will shift enough to give everyone a little peace, but it’s not really a solution. Maybe if people end up leaving their jobs, great people will come in and shake things up. But the three pillars were pretty great and will be likely impossible to replace. I speak as though they’re already gone, but really it could be a little while. Gotta think positive.
One comforting (or disturbing) thought is that just about all of the other PCVs here in Assomada (and I’d venture to bet on other islands as well) are equally as dissatisfied. So generally our moments together these days become large bitch sessions, chances for us to share how much our lives suck. So uplifting:), haha. Really, though, we know that it could be much worse, and for the most part we know that it will get better, but there are just unique difficulties that come with working in Assomada. So few positives keeping me here at the moment.
5/10/07
Today I am broken. Crestfallen, crushed, split wide open, and honestly admittedly so. Too many trick mirrors surround me and deceive what I’m supposed to believe and expect to be true. I looked around me today and found nothing that made me feel confident in myself. Instead hundreds of tiny unimportant things reminded me of how I don’t fit into anyone’s standards, superficially or otherwise. I sweat because it’s hot, and subsequently smell because available deodorant here is like expensive water on a stick—not at all functioning. My white feet get dirty because of the moisture mixing with the constantly swirling dirt in the air from the returned bruma seca that worsens my recently-acquired asthma, leaving me breathless, sweaty, and smelly. I am fatter because the only thing in my life that can remain under my control is whether or not I get to eat peanut butter on bread when I get home from an impossible day of 9 to 5 first-world-looking-yet-third-world-feeling hell of needy and neglected little girls. My hair is a frizzy, sticky mess that I’m tempted to shave off if not for the teeny piece of American vanity that underskirts my desire to cast off all traces of appearances. Also inhibiting the desire to cast off is the fact that here I am expected to look good, presentable, clean, professional, virtually 24 hours a day. No wrinkles, no dirt on the light cream pants, no sweat on the recently acne-laden skin. So even if I could affirm within myself to eliminate vanity and certain standards of “cleanliness” and no longer care what I look like, the place in which I find myself doesn’t allow it. I am in Africa yet I’m not in Africa. I’m in the developed world yet I’m not in the developed world. I can walk for twenty minutes and reach villages where there are no bathrooms, no electricity, and no running water, where there are families of at least 9 barefoot, hungry children, and to whom education still seems an abstract irrelevance. I can then walk the twenty minutes back into a community in which dress of the business casual nature is a given, coffee breaks and shoe-shopping trips are essential (to “de-stress”), and no one questions the brilliance and glory of traveling to Portugal or France, and perhaps not returning. How does one balance out the weight of two imperfect worlds in a young idealistic mind? I am living two realities at once, often enjoying neither. In the US, you can get away with easily ignoring the existence of an underdeveloped, starving, and neglected “third world” (no longer a PC phrase, replaced by…?), and perhaps in that starving and neglected Country X you can get away with ignoring the fact that mP3 players, laptop computers, and Tivo to save all the mind-numbing nonsense exist. Perhaps one or the other could be conceivably satisfying on its own, depending on what it is you want or need in life. But here you have both looking you in the eyeball day in and day out, unable to escape the simultaneous existence of both worlds, each demanding of you what the demands of the other contradicts. This is life in Cape Verde.
It is commonly accepted that there are two differing perceptions of time in the world, one quite calculating and the other quite immeasurable. A friend recently told me that here, they each exist, though the latter exists under the restrictions and confines of the former so that the power-holders that define the time choose whether or not time should be measured today and how. So you’re never quite sure if today, for this meeting, 15 minutes equals 15 minutes, or if 15 minutes will equal 2-3 hours. You’re never quite sure if when told to appear at 8:00am, showing up at 8:30 will be 30 minutes late or 2 hours early. The regulations of the two intertwining standards of existence don’t always communicate, to the extent that you sometimes feel as though you’re playing a game in which the rules are being defined as you go. Everything remains picture-perfect on the surface, I continue to be a member of the Posh Corps, there appear to be multiple opportunities and a comfortable lifestyle, and rapid development seems to be “working”. Carefully lifting that top layer of perfectly-laid paint reveals the mess that the PhD-ed team of painters hurriedly neglected at the outset.
As an average individual, I would find it difficult to adjust and balance out this complicated, ethically-challenging lifestyle. As a Peace Corps Volunteer, multiply that difficulty by ten (to remain moderate) as you realize that you are laboring (blood, sweat, and tears) for what looks in all ways, shapes, and forms like a “real job” while receiving zero of the benefits of said real job. No pay, no recognition, no acknowledgement of the difficulties you are facing as you may receive if viewed as an actual employee. The 9 to 5 without the advantage of built-in stress relievers available at home. Can’t go out for drinks or run to the gym or be anywhere alone at night. Being a Volunteer elsewhere may involve a certain level of ambiguity, undefined and wide open (a whole other set of difficulties); being a Volunteer in Cape Verde is like working for free at the UN. Expected to look and dress well and maintain a certain lifestyle and all its self-enhancing delicacies while not receiving the means to do so. Peace Corps pays enough: anyone who is frugal and doesn’t drink like a fish can easily more than get by. But not enough to make dress-buying trips to Praia with colleagues who hem and haw about buying last-minute vacations to Portugal. They can do that—they work intensely without stop and have paid their educational dues. But where does the Volunteer fit in?
I asked myself today what was keeping me here. My blank eyes glossed over and all I could come up with was the necessity of writing a thesis, 38 young girls’ faces, and a vague sense of responsibility or honoring commitments. Those things will probably keep me here. Probably. Oh and the useful experience and insight I’m gaining for my professional future are immense. That will help. But as an emotional, feeling, caring individual, can I not ask for more? I could commence an increased level of selfishness to preserve sanity and hold on for the remainder of my service; that will also help. But when you’re losing sense of self, how do you become selfish? I know my self as defined by my culture, my self as defined by other cultures, as defined by Dona Zuleica down the road; but where the freedom is to redefine my self according to me I have yet to discover.
Today at lunch I was told by my counterpart (Ivete), the psychologist (Ercília), and the Center coordinator (Andreia), that all three plan to or would like to leave their jobs within the year. The former two have applied to other jobs, and the latter is keeping her eye out both here and abroad, none of them able to handle the underpaid, undervalued, and under-supported job of defending and protecting children in Cape Verde any longer. The three pillars on which the Center and the girls it houses rely will likely be removed in one swift swipe of the life-sucking arm of ICCA. Bureaucracy prevails once again. What will motivate me once they’re gone?
I don’t know anymore.
I may remain broken, crestfallen, and crushed a little while longer.
Sometimes the hope of a “fresh new day” just isn’t enough anymore. Life isn’t magic.
5/14/07
I have a lot of potential hobbies. Endless things I would enjoy doing if the time existed. Whenever people used to ask me what my hobbies were (or when they do now), I would stop and think, coming up with a few general things—reading, writing, singing, listening to music, hanging out with friends (not really a hobby)—always wondering why I couldn’t come up with any “real” hobbies. Now I see. It’s because I have never had enough free time to truly develop a real hobby. Here is what I would like to do if I had abundant time to explore the world of alternative pleasurable activities: Establish a painting room (preferably with a huge picture window providing light and inspiration) and paint whatever I want; build up a music studio to record songs, just for fun; learn to play guitar and add that to music-writing abilities; learn to play piano, add that on too; refresh my photography knowledge and skills and make a dark room to develop all my photos (this maybe should go first on the list, I really want it); learn how to garden and take care of plants so that anywhere I live is always green and colorful (this one’s less likely, I tend to forget to water things and kill them); save up and buy rock-climbing equipment so I can make my rock-climbing way around the world trying new feats; learn how to snow ski and/or snowboard (save and buy equipment for that too) and finally take advantage of the wonderful Northwest mountains; learn—truly learn—the art of yoga as it ties to its original purpose (i.e. no workout tapes led by a buff, blonde American); take up tae bo; buy a bike and take biking trips in different parts of the world; make camping on the beach into a hobby; learn really magnificent salsa dancing to add to the made-up salsa that takes place in my room; buy a 4-wheeler and take it wherever they’ll let me; gather materials to make various types and styles of jewelry to give to family and friends around the world; learn to make mixed drinks and build up a wet bar in the house so I can have house parties with drink themes (I know, this is starting to get out there); learn how to hanglide and find new heights to leap from. I think that’s about enough for now. Not having a computer or any other technology makes all these things seem so possible time-wise, having eliminated spider solitaire and excess working at home. However likely none of these will happen while here in Cape Verde for reasons of the following nature: no money, no free time, no resources, no snow, no one who knows how to do 75% of these things who can teach me, minimal access to vodka, no pianos (that I’ve seen), and land that doesn’t like to grow things, much less things I try to grow. So I guess I’ll have to wait until the fictional point in my life at which these things suddenly fall perfectly into place. Here’s hoping.
5/17/07
Just a note to say I’m struggling through. Not to say that I’m a chipper little squirrel, nor to say I’m a raging, depressed lion (or something…). Just that I’m making it through. I hold on to future hopes: Paige coming in August, Mom coming in September, Dad coming in October, new PCT group coming in July and either making my job easier or much more unbearable (thanks to Peace Corps, not them). Things are coming. Hopefully they are enough to keep me going, besides the fact that I’ve committed to projects that people would like to see done. I.e. my thesis. The photography project. The income-generating hat making project. The volunteer corps at the Center. All things that are highly involved, daunting, and that have the ability to instantly drain my energy just seeing the words printed before me.
Well, anyway, I suppose I just wanted to assure you all that I am not done yet. Nor have I given up hope or admitted defeat. I’m just tired and cranky and in need of inspiration. It’s a little extra hard when virtually no one you work with likes their job. The Center is so unsupported, underappreciated, understaffed, and underpaid, and 50-75% of the staff it does have doesn’t like children, so it makes for an uninspiring work environment. I see it in their eyes, in the weary smile of Andreia, in the almost capped out patience of Ercília, in the constant sickness and physical weariness of Ivete. Things have to change, and I just don’t know how. I feel as though if things don’t get better soon, the projects I want to do won’t be accomplished.
They started sending girls home. A few weeks ago, a girl that I really liked (but who most people didn’t because of her behavior) was sent home. On Monday, three more were sent home (this time I didn’t even have time to say goodbye). Tuesday, we took two more home to Tarrafal. Another girl we tried to take home, but her dad wouldn’t accept her, so she’s back here with us. One more is heading home soon, and of course there’s Aracy, still waiting to be sent to Fogo, reminding us every second that she shouldn’t be here. It’s depressing and eye-opening—sad that we don’t have the means to deal with some of these potentially successful or well-meaning girls, and reminding us of the fact that things need to change, the structure and dynamic of the Center needs to be re-evaluated, or no one will survive here, and they’ll end up shutting it down. Maybe with some of these girls gone, the attitude and environment will shift enough to give everyone a little peace, but it’s not really a solution. Maybe if people end up leaving their jobs, great people will come in and shake things up. But the three pillars were pretty great and will be likely impossible to replace. I speak as though they’re already gone, but really it could be a little while. Gotta think positive.
One comforting (or disturbing) thought is that just about all of the other PCVs here in Assomada (and I’d venture to bet on other islands as well) are equally as dissatisfied. So generally our moments together these days become large bitch sessions, chances for us to share how much our lives suck. So uplifting:), haha. Really, though, we know that it could be much worse, and for the most part we know that it will get better, but there are just unique difficulties that come with working in Assomada. So few positives keeping me here at the moment.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Fanta, Fanta, don't you wanta?
This will be a quick entry because I have nothing pre-written, just am here in the PC office with free internet and thought I'd update.
So I have been working on this photography project that will tie in with my Masters thesis. Here's the idea: you place cameras in the hands of populations that don't normally have access to cameras and aren't accustomed to having their perspectives shown through imagery (i.e. abused, abandoned, and orphaned girls from the Center), teach them how to use the cameras, and orient them towards using the new skill to take pictures in the community with the goal of enacting social change. So for example, you spend 4-5 months training the girls, talking about issues in the community, having them practice taking pictures, and giving them an objective: i.e. take pictures of how you view the role of women in your community, or take pictures of something you would like to see changed in your community. Through the experience, they learn a new skill, become more actively involved in their community, and improve their own self-esteem and leadership skills. In the end, you organize one or multiple expositions, at least one of which has the express intention of inviting important figures in power who could potentially enact change as a result of viewing the images. So throughout this whole process, the girls are taking responsibility for a project, are learning how to articulate and portray their own opinions and points of view, and are having their voices heard in a really meaningful and emotionally impacting way. So that's the idea.
However since I started searching, I had been having trouble getting donations of cameras so that I could really get started. I decided to send out an email to all the PCVs here in Cape Verde just to see what ideas they could come with, if they had more suggestions I hadn't thought of. Lo and behold, I received a mountain of ideas, suggestions, web site links, and people ready and willing to donate cameras to the project! I am continually impressed by the willingness of the people around me to move to action. All it takes is a tiny suggestion, a question or request for advice, and people come running. So I have a professional photographer from the States wanting to be involved and several people saying they are ready to donate cameras and where can they send them? Wow. Hopefully I will get the needed 15-20 cameras (anyone reading this interested??) in time to get things rolling, organize my thesis and get it IRB-approved, and locate enough Cape Verdean photography professionals willing to be involved in the whole process. And find a grant to apply for to get the funds needed to sustain the project (buy film if needed, develop film or print photos, put together an exposition, buy notebooks and scrapbooks for the participants, travel costs, etc.). That's the biggie. It's always money, right? Hmph, I hate to even hint at the idea that the project may hinge on something I dislike so much. But I will do what I can with as little as possible and slowly but surely we will get there! More than anything I am just jazzed that so many people are interested in and supportive of the project idea. I got such an overwhelming response, it has really motivated me to get off my butt and start going. The hardest part might just be getting wililng, available, excited and qualified Cape Verdeans interested enough to help me out and run some of the training sessions. That will hopefully come together soon enough. I have a few leads so far, but most live in Praia and are otherwise employed.
Anyway I wanted to share that with you all to let you know how things are progressing, see if any of you at home have suggestions or ideas or would like to help contribute. Altogether we are a wealth of knowledge and resources and it's exciting to see things come together from all angles.
So this week has been overall a pretty productive one. Getting the volunteer corps all organized so people can begin helping out in the Center has been going smoothly. Friday I meet with the Red Cross (over 60 youth) to explain the needs and the process for becoming a volunteer, and hopefully all the people who have shown interest will follow through and come to fill out the needed form. I am also continuing to work on the income-raising project (remember the hats we want to make?), but that will require looking for starting-up funding. Anyone know of any good grants we might qualify for? Preferably ones that don't have an extremely long approval process. I know, I ask so much:).
Okay, so that is it for now, I'll write more later. If anyone finds any of these current projects interesting and has advice or would like somehow to be involved, please feel free to let me know. My email is courtdog88@yahoo.com (a link to which is also located in my profile), or you can leave comments.
I hope you are all having wonderful weeks. I am, and partly because I am currently playing hooky for the afternoon in Praia. Ha! Take that, busy stressful life!
So I have been working on this photography project that will tie in with my Masters thesis. Here's the idea: you place cameras in the hands of populations that don't normally have access to cameras and aren't accustomed to having their perspectives shown through imagery (i.e. abused, abandoned, and orphaned girls from the Center), teach them how to use the cameras, and orient them towards using the new skill to take pictures in the community with the goal of enacting social change. So for example, you spend 4-5 months training the girls, talking about issues in the community, having them practice taking pictures, and giving them an objective: i.e. take pictures of how you view the role of women in your community, or take pictures of something you would like to see changed in your community. Through the experience, they learn a new skill, become more actively involved in their community, and improve their own self-esteem and leadership skills. In the end, you organize one or multiple expositions, at least one of which has the express intention of inviting important figures in power who could potentially enact change as a result of viewing the images. So throughout this whole process, the girls are taking responsibility for a project, are learning how to articulate and portray their own opinions and points of view, and are having their voices heard in a really meaningful and emotionally impacting way. So that's the idea.
However since I started searching, I had been having trouble getting donations of cameras so that I could really get started. I decided to send out an email to all the PCVs here in Cape Verde just to see what ideas they could come with, if they had more suggestions I hadn't thought of. Lo and behold, I received a mountain of ideas, suggestions, web site links, and people ready and willing to donate cameras to the project! I am continually impressed by the willingness of the people around me to move to action. All it takes is a tiny suggestion, a question or request for advice, and people come running. So I have a professional photographer from the States wanting to be involved and several people saying they are ready to donate cameras and where can they send them? Wow. Hopefully I will get the needed 15-20 cameras (anyone reading this interested??) in time to get things rolling, organize my thesis and get it IRB-approved, and locate enough Cape Verdean photography professionals willing to be involved in the whole process. And find a grant to apply for to get the funds needed to sustain the project (buy film if needed, develop film or print photos, put together an exposition, buy notebooks and scrapbooks for the participants, travel costs, etc.). That's the biggie. It's always money, right? Hmph, I hate to even hint at the idea that the project may hinge on something I dislike so much. But I will do what I can with as little as possible and slowly but surely we will get there! More than anything I am just jazzed that so many people are interested in and supportive of the project idea. I got such an overwhelming response, it has really motivated me to get off my butt and start going. The hardest part might just be getting wililng, available, excited and qualified Cape Verdeans interested enough to help me out and run some of the training sessions. That will hopefully come together soon enough. I have a few leads so far, but most live in Praia and are otherwise employed.
Anyway I wanted to share that with you all to let you know how things are progressing, see if any of you at home have suggestions or ideas or would like to help contribute. Altogether we are a wealth of knowledge and resources and it's exciting to see things come together from all angles.
So this week has been overall a pretty productive one. Getting the volunteer corps all organized so people can begin helping out in the Center has been going smoothly. Friday I meet with the Red Cross (over 60 youth) to explain the needs and the process for becoming a volunteer, and hopefully all the people who have shown interest will follow through and come to fill out the needed form. I am also continuing to work on the income-raising project (remember the hats we want to make?), but that will require looking for starting-up funding. Anyone know of any good grants we might qualify for? Preferably ones that don't have an extremely long approval process. I know, I ask so much:).
Okay, so that is it for now, I'll write more later. If anyone finds any of these current projects interesting and has advice or would like somehow to be involved, please feel free to let me know. My email is courtdog88@yahoo.com (a link to which is also located in my profile), or you can leave comments.
I hope you are all having wonderful weeks. I am, and partly because I am currently playing hooky for the afternoon in Praia. Ha! Take that, busy stressful life!
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
This too shall pass
4/1/07
Today I realized that Peace Corps Cape Verde has taken away a piece of my soul.
It cannot fully be blamed on Peace Corps, as the culmination of experience and context create what I feel or am lacking. However, a part of me is literally missing due to unnecessary and overwhelming bureaucracy, complete lack of organization, absence of much meaningful support or encouragement, and a ridiculous amount of paper usage. (Note: Yes, I am allowed to say this because if you’ll notice the disclaimer, my words are not Peace Corps’ words and represent only what I feel.) It may sound as though my complaint comes in jest, but really in all honesty I feel as though a significant part of who I am is now gone, or at least severely diminished. And up until now I have felt as though my stress, exhaustion, frustration, etc. were simply due to the nature of youth development and working with disadvantaged and abused children—which I’m sure is partly true—; however now I am realizing that the bureaucratic organization I find myself immersed in plays a significant role in the demoralizing, un-motivating, life-sucking force that claims the portion of me that I want back. The rational side of me begs a qualification, a voice from the other side singing the praises of the one US organization that seeks to do as it should rather than start wars and screw people over even more than they already are. So there, that song has been sung, and will be sung again. But for right now, I will fully own what my heart feels, and that is lonely, empty, and frustrated. Many PCVs spend a significant amount of time complaining about all the frustrating details that come with living under the strong arm of the Peace Corps, and for the most part I listened willingly though quietly assuring myself that they were just “complainers”, people who don’t know how to suck it up and adjust to a new environment with new rules. Now, I have come to see that it has little to do with lack of flexibility and understanding on the part of the PCV, and everything to do with an inadequately functioning program that makes your job much harder than it needs to be. And I am quite certain that it is specific to Peace Corps Cape Verde and is not a Peace Corps-wide problem, because of comments made by PCVs coming from other countries of service.
Instead of listening to our input and making subsequent adjustments, they play this game called “I’ll pretend to listen to you now, but tomorrow I’ll conveniently forget every word you’ve said to me”—it’s the most mind-numbingly ridiculous game that is consistently in play every time you attempt a conversation with the majority of PC staff in this country, save the few that make working here more than worthwhile. This may sound unfair, and they may be doing the best they can, etc. etc. etc. (preservation of their feelings and their personal passion is essential at one point or another), but there is a limit to one’s ability to give grace and room for mistakes and growth. I have reached it. I think most other PCVs reached it awhile ago. It is unacceptable to be so disorganized and behind in preparation that you solicit a Volunteer’s help organizing, managing, and running their sector’s Pre-Service Training (PST) for the incoming Trainees rather than merely asking for their assistance in a few specialty or advice areas that may be better handled by a Volunteer. I have no problem helping out—particularly because I want it to be a better experience for the new group than it was for us—but it’s not okay to expect me to take it on as my job to organize and run their PST. That is Case in Point #1. We won’t complete the other Case in Points at this time, partly to preserve mental sanity, and partly to keep from overwhelming negativity and projecting it onto my home audience. Suffice it to say that “Ya basta”: I’ve had enough. My job is ridiculously tough enough without it being made more difficult by people who don’t understand what I truly need.
How do I maintain my calm, cheerful, and optimistic personality with all this???? Who am I becoming????
I don’t like it. And I don’t know if I can take any more of this personality stripping. I am not a servile robot, and feel as though my energetic warmth, the force that has kept me going, is slowly leaking out. Something is limited me from being who I really am.
It’s hard because when I’m at site, with my colleagues, I’m usually not as stressed out, and even at times remembering why I’m here and why I like what I’m doing. I make friends, have great opportunities to collaborate and get people involved in projects, and could really get things accomplished. There are more than enough positives to keep me here.
I realized this weekend when I talked to my mom and my sister and tried to explain my current funk that found within that piece of my soul that Peace Corps Cape Verde ripped from me is my ability to articulate in any sensical way what I am feeling or thinking. I have no idea anymore, can’t even form a coherent sentence. Maybe I’ve just been trying for too long. Is that it? Who knows…But what I do know is that something is shifting inside of me. Part of me on some days wants to run away screaming or hide in my room and not talk to anyone, and the other part of me knows I’m not a quitter and remembers why I like helping kids.
One thing I just realized that is starting to scare me: I’m so sick of people asking me for things, wanting my help, requesting my presence, needing things from me that it is driving me inside of myself—both literally and figuratively. I’m afraid to go out around town because I will see someone who asks me for something, and even becoming afraid to explore myself emotionally. There are days when things just don’t feel right. I’m exhausted, but it’s more than that. I wish I could explain it without making it sound as though I’m miserable. I’m not. Just confused. And wondering how to get the experience I sought after in the first place, because this isn’t it. This is what I wanted later in life when I am more mature and prepared—instead I just end up feeling inadequate, unable to stand up to the test. And it's not just job-wise, I don't like my lifestyle. I don't like the pace, the quickness, the movement, the pressure, the development coming at you at all angles. I want to STOP.
Today I realized that Peace Corps Cape Verde has taken away a piece of my soul.
It cannot fully be blamed on Peace Corps, as the culmination of experience and context create what I feel or am lacking. However, a part of me is literally missing due to unnecessary and overwhelming bureaucracy, complete lack of organization, absence of much meaningful support or encouragement, and a ridiculous amount of paper usage. (Note: Yes, I am allowed to say this because if you’ll notice the disclaimer, my words are not Peace Corps’ words and represent only what I feel.) It may sound as though my complaint comes in jest, but really in all honesty I feel as though a significant part of who I am is now gone, or at least severely diminished. And up until now I have felt as though my stress, exhaustion, frustration, etc. were simply due to the nature of youth development and working with disadvantaged and abused children—which I’m sure is partly true—; however now I am realizing that the bureaucratic organization I find myself immersed in plays a significant role in the demoralizing, un-motivating, life-sucking force that claims the portion of me that I want back. The rational side of me begs a qualification, a voice from the other side singing the praises of the one US organization that seeks to do as it should rather than start wars and screw people over even more than they already are. So there, that song has been sung, and will be sung again. But for right now, I will fully own what my heart feels, and that is lonely, empty, and frustrated. Many PCVs spend a significant amount of time complaining about all the frustrating details that come with living under the strong arm of the Peace Corps, and for the most part I listened willingly though quietly assuring myself that they were just “complainers”, people who don’t know how to suck it up and adjust to a new environment with new rules. Now, I have come to see that it has little to do with lack of flexibility and understanding on the part of the PCV, and everything to do with an inadequately functioning program that makes your job much harder than it needs to be. And I am quite certain that it is specific to Peace Corps Cape Verde and is not a Peace Corps-wide problem, because of comments made by PCVs coming from other countries of service.
Instead of listening to our input and making subsequent adjustments, they play this game called “I’ll pretend to listen to you now, but tomorrow I’ll conveniently forget every word you’ve said to me”—it’s the most mind-numbingly ridiculous game that is consistently in play every time you attempt a conversation with the majority of PC staff in this country, save the few that make working here more than worthwhile. This may sound unfair, and they may be doing the best they can, etc. etc. etc. (preservation of their feelings and their personal passion is essential at one point or another), but there is a limit to one’s ability to give grace and room for mistakes and growth. I have reached it. I think most other PCVs reached it awhile ago. It is unacceptable to be so disorganized and behind in preparation that you solicit a Volunteer’s help organizing, managing, and running their sector’s Pre-Service Training (PST) for the incoming Trainees rather than merely asking for their assistance in a few specialty or advice areas that may be better handled by a Volunteer. I have no problem helping out—particularly because I want it to be a better experience for the new group than it was for us—but it’s not okay to expect me to take it on as my job to organize and run their PST. That is Case in Point #1. We won’t complete the other Case in Points at this time, partly to preserve mental sanity, and partly to keep from overwhelming negativity and projecting it onto my home audience. Suffice it to say that “Ya basta”: I’ve had enough. My job is ridiculously tough enough without it being made more difficult by people who don’t understand what I truly need.
How do I maintain my calm, cheerful, and optimistic personality with all this???? Who am I becoming????
I don’t like it. And I don’t know if I can take any more of this personality stripping. I am not a servile robot, and feel as though my energetic warmth, the force that has kept me going, is slowly leaking out. Something is limited me from being who I really am.
It’s hard because when I’m at site, with my colleagues, I’m usually not as stressed out, and even at times remembering why I’m here and why I like what I’m doing. I make friends, have great opportunities to collaborate and get people involved in projects, and could really get things accomplished. There are more than enough positives to keep me here.
I realized this weekend when I talked to my mom and my sister and tried to explain my current funk that found within that piece of my soul that Peace Corps Cape Verde ripped from me is my ability to articulate in any sensical way what I am feeling or thinking. I have no idea anymore, can’t even form a coherent sentence. Maybe I’ve just been trying for too long. Is that it? Who knows…But what I do know is that something is shifting inside of me. Part of me on some days wants to run away screaming or hide in my room and not talk to anyone, and the other part of me knows I’m not a quitter and remembers why I like helping kids.
One thing I just realized that is starting to scare me: I’m so sick of people asking me for things, wanting my help, requesting my presence, needing things from me that it is driving me inside of myself—both literally and figuratively. I’m afraid to go out around town because I will see someone who asks me for something, and even becoming afraid to explore myself emotionally. There are days when things just don’t feel right. I’m exhausted, but it’s more than that. I wish I could explain it without making it sound as though I’m miserable. I’m not. Just confused. And wondering how to get the experience I sought after in the first place, because this isn’t it. This is what I wanted later in life when I am more mature and prepared—instead I just end up feeling inadequate, unable to stand up to the test. And it's not just job-wise, I don't like my lifestyle. I don't like the pace, the quickness, the movement, the pressure, the development coming at you at all angles. I want to STOP.
What I am now realizing is that I can and will allow myself to speak aloud and embrace what I truly want, even if it means saying that this isn't it. I love this experience and adore everything that Cape Verde has offered me. I will finish my service with pleasure and vigor to accomplish all that I can within the time frame. I have learned so much and have grown a large space in my heart for all of the culture and love and lessons I have received from this country and my service. But I am allowing myself to say that it isn't the experience I wanted and that I will continue to look for that experience. I don't think there's anything wrong with that. So at the end of two years I am thinking of extending my service for another year in another country, on the continent of Africa at a rural site. There are good youth development programs where I can work to develop girls' leadership, and I believe I can count on a good recommendation. So I will seek that experience. Because I can, and I think that's okay. I will be flexible until my legs are tangled behind me, and I will soak up everything this wonderful country and experience has to offer. But in the end I will move on and continue to seek what my heart is calling for.
Anyway I think all my drama widdles down to the fact that I need to learn to say no to the things I don't want and to be okay with it, and then sit back and calmly do the things I can do. Because I’m slacking on the things I’ve told people I would do.
Ah, vida…when will you give me a break?
On a different note, today is my dad’s birthday—so happy birthday, Dad!!! Hope you had a wonderful day, sorry it wasn’t possible for me to talk to you. But you are in my thoughts.
4/3/07
So I guess I should go back and recap IST from this past week. My entry on Sunday probably makes it seem as though it was awful: it was and it wasn’t. In all honesty, it was wonderful to see all the PCVs I haven’t seen since September and catch up, have fun, laugh, joke, etc. etc. Night time was play time, and that’s always fun. Even if you pay for it the next day. And I can’t say that all of the day sessions were painful or not worthwhile, because there were some helpful things covered and tiny steps taken towards being prepared for the upcoming PST—although please note that the point of IST is not to prepare for PST, it is supposed to be helping you with the things you need to continue with and improve your service, which in this case it did not really do, at least not to the extent hoped for. While we had some decent sessions on funding and project design, most time was spent helping them flesh out minute PST details. That said, it was a glaringly bright peek at what stress and annoyance will come with said PST. The disorganization, the miscommunication, and the sessions that accomplish very little. Buuuut I also understand that they are doing the best they can and will continue to grow and develop as the staff gains more experience and learns to work together. Aren’t I so “PC”?
All in all, IST made me both dread the new group’s PST and all the more motivated to make it better. We’ll see which of these I’m feeling when the new group actually gets here. For as much as I was looking forward to IST, I was pretty glad to get back to Assomada—back to the calm, steady day-to-day where I’m not out all night or sitting in sessions all day. Sometimes I itch to get out and have a change of pace, but I’m always glad to come back “home”.
4/10/07
Looking back on the past week and a half, it was pretty positive, even if I got virtually no real “work” done. Right now Cape Verdean students are on their spring break and have about a week and a half off from school over Easter, so many of the girls from the Center left last Monday to spend a week with family members or friends. So for the past week there have only been 13 girls in the Center with me and the “team”. Apparently this meant a break from work for the monitoras, who took advantage of the lack of girls to do very little with the ones who were left there. So I spent pretty much all my time with them. Just hanging out, playing, finding things to do. It kind of felt like summer break when you sit on your front porch looking for things to do, complaining that you’re bored when your parents tell you there are “millions of things you could do”, none of which you want or are motivated to do. But I did try and organize some things for the poor trapped prisoners. On Wednesday we went on a hike to the big tree (if I haven’t mentioned it before, it’s this humongous acacia tree just outside Assomada that’s supposedly the biggest tree in the country…though according to Alex there’s one in every town in Guinea), which was fun. The monitora that was supposed to go never showed up for work, so luckily I had arranged for a girl from the CEJ to go with us so I wasn’t stuck by myself. Didn’t surprise me one bit.
Anyway I think all my drama widdles down to the fact that I need to learn to say no to the things I don't want and to be okay with it, and then sit back and calmly do the things I can do. Because I’m slacking on the things I’ve told people I would do.
Ah, vida…when will you give me a break?
On a different note, today is my dad’s birthday—so happy birthday, Dad!!! Hope you had a wonderful day, sorry it wasn’t possible for me to talk to you. But you are in my thoughts.
4/3/07
So I guess I should go back and recap IST from this past week. My entry on Sunday probably makes it seem as though it was awful: it was and it wasn’t. In all honesty, it was wonderful to see all the PCVs I haven’t seen since September and catch up, have fun, laugh, joke, etc. etc. Night time was play time, and that’s always fun. Even if you pay for it the next day. And I can’t say that all of the day sessions were painful or not worthwhile, because there were some helpful things covered and tiny steps taken towards being prepared for the upcoming PST—although please note that the point of IST is not to prepare for PST, it is supposed to be helping you with the things you need to continue with and improve your service, which in this case it did not really do, at least not to the extent hoped for. While we had some decent sessions on funding and project design, most time was spent helping them flesh out minute PST details. That said, it was a glaringly bright peek at what stress and annoyance will come with said PST. The disorganization, the miscommunication, and the sessions that accomplish very little. Buuuut I also understand that they are doing the best they can and will continue to grow and develop as the staff gains more experience and learns to work together. Aren’t I so “PC”?
All in all, IST made me both dread the new group’s PST and all the more motivated to make it better. We’ll see which of these I’m feeling when the new group actually gets here. For as much as I was looking forward to IST, I was pretty glad to get back to Assomada—back to the calm, steady day-to-day where I’m not out all night or sitting in sessions all day. Sometimes I itch to get out and have a change of pace, but I’m always glad to come back “home”.
4/10/07
Looking back on the past week and a half, it was pretty positive, even if I got virtually no real “work” done. Right now Cape Verdean students are on their spring break and have about a week and a half off from school over Easter, so many of the girls from the Center left last Monday to spend a week with family members or friends. So for the past week there have only been 13 girls in the Center with me and the “team”. Apparently this meant a break from work for the monitoras, who took advantage of the lack of girls to do very little with the ones who were left there. So I spent pretty much all my time with them. Just hanging out, playing, finding things to do. It kind of felt like summer break when you sit on your front porch looking for things to do, complaining that you’re bored when your parents tell you there are “millions of things you could do”, none of which you want or are motivated to do. But I did try and organize some things for the poor trapped prisoners. On Wednesday we went on a hike to the big tree (if I haven’t mentioned it before, it’s this humongous acacia tree just outside Assomada that’s supposedly the biggest tree in the country…though according to Alex there’s one in every town in Guinea), which was fun. The monitora that was supposed to go never showed up for work, so luckily I had arranged for a girl from the CEJ to go with us so I wasn’t stuck by myself. Didn’t surprise me one bit.
The rest of the week we hung out and played soccer at the Polivalente (local sports court), ate fresquinhas (little homemade popsicles they sell like crazy here), and just enjoyed each other’s presence. On Good Friday there was no work, so no one came to be with the girls (except for the mães, for whom there are no real holidays), so Mel and I went and painted Easter eggs with them, which was entertaining, and overall a success, even though the only food coloring we found was red and blue, so we had just red, blue and purple eggs. After the egg-painting, I brought all of the girls to my house to make cookies and have fun outside of the Center. I put on music, they played cards and bounced around the soccer ball, we danced, and we used the Ghirardelli chocolate chips my grandma sent me to make delicious chocolate chip cookies for the Center and for my homestay family in São Domingos. Igor ended up coming up from São D and played with the girls, which was nice.
I think they had a great time (I know I did), and especially liked playing with my new kitty—Oh! I got a new kitty! Her name is Cinza, which means ash because she is this beautiful charcoal-y color of ash (she is a tortoise-shell, just like Rocky back at home), though the girls decided to name her Baby and Chocolate. They say her “nomi di kaza” (household name) is Baby and her “nomi di igreja” (church name, or registered name) is Chocolate. I still call her Cinza. She is adorable, but she is as playful as a bat out of hell and doesn’t let me sleep. She is so very rambunctious, but she is very much a mama’s girl and never leaves my side. It’s so wonderful to have companionship and someone to look after. And the best thing: she’s already potty-trained, since the first night I got her. After we gave her a thorough bath and picked out all her fleas, she curled up in bed with me and shortly after peed over all my sheets. I showed her that was bad and immediately put her in the box I set up for her, and ever since she has used the box every time. Excellent. Here are some pictures of my adorable new friend:
The girls say if I can’t take her back to America with me, they will gladly take care of her. One of the girls, Deise, carried her around all day in my blanket, like her own little baby. So cute.
Although I will say this: I can’t wait for her to grow up and get out of the playing-all-night-and-scratching-the-crap-out-of-me phase. I forgot how much patience is needed in taking care of little kitties.On Saturday, Nick, the Brazilians, the Brazilians’ mom, and I went out to Aguas Belas and then hiked to Rincão, crazy Mike’s site. Crazy Mike is this hilarious and slightly insane Volunteer who eats enough for an army and was well-integrated into his community within like 5 seconds. Anyway, we went out to Aguas Belas, which is this great little rocky beach where there’s a cave you can swim into (which we did). Note: this beach is rocky for the same reason Ribeira da Barca is rocky, if you remember from before—people have taken away all the sand, and continue to take it by diving in the water. Not cool, but if you ask them, they say “We have to eat, there’s no other living.” Also not cool. Anyway, we swam a little, ate a little, basked in the sun a little, then commenced the long trek (long only because it was in the hottest part of the day with no shade and little water to drink) to Rincão. There we found water, were invited to lunch by a friend of Mike’s, were incessantly harassed by a ridiculously drunk Cape Verdean man (what’s a day in this country without one of those?), went for another swim in the slightly sandier (for now) beach, and then started off for home after a long, very sunny day. I liked Rincão from what I saw, which granted was very little, and would like to go back. Mike wants to arrange some tents and go camping there—I’m definitely game.
Later that night was my counterpart’s wedding ceremony. After living with the father of her 3-year-old son for several years, she decided it was time to get married. In Cape Verde, the concept of marriage is uncommon, at least not until you are older (i.e. 30s and 40s). This does not mean they don’t start families young—quite the contrary—but just that marriage to them is a mere formality, something they see little purpose to. They generally live with their partners like husband and wife for years before they get money together to have a ceremony and throw a party, if they even do it. When they do, there’s generally 3 parts involved: first you have to have a legal ceremony in the courthouse to be considered married by the government. Then most choose to have a church ceremony, which they consider the “real” wedding, even if not considered legal by itself. The third part is the party, which is more important than the ceremony. In some cases they start partying at the first ceremony and don’t stop until the couple has long gone for their honeymoon. Generally though there’s at least a day-long party the day after the church service. I wasn’t able to go to Ivete’s because I spent Easter in São Domingos with my host family. Ivete’s wedding ceremony at the church was the first one I’ve been to here in Cape Verde, and it wasn’t scheduled to start until 10:00 at night. Huh. I realized then that it probably meant that they would talk, sing, read from the Bible, etc. until midnight, at which point they would perform the service so that technically they would be married on Easter. I was right. However it was not just a marriage ceremony prefaced by a long and slightly boring service. It was two marriage ceremonies prefaced by not only a long and slightly boring service, but by four baptisms and then followed by a christening and an Easter mass. It was one of the longest nights of my life (alright, I exaggerate). It was a really big day for Ivete, as she was getting baptized and married, and her son was christened, but holy crap was I tired. I should have known I was in for the longest Catholic service ever. I was there until 2 am, and we left before the mass was over. She did look quite beautiful though.
On Easter day I took the cookies we made and headed for São D to spend the day with family and friends, a blessing beyond what I can describe. It is so comforting to have a family and a community to spend the holidays with, even if it’s not your own biological family. It was a wonderful day, echoing with the sounds of laughter, excessive teasing, and explosively energetic card games. I saw almost everyone I know from São D at a big community-wide Easter party and got to learn how to roll the maça balls to throw in the cooking pot. Maça is this dough-like mixture made from corn flour that you roll into little balls and cook until they’re thick and chewy—very yummy with a chicken stew or cachupa. It was really fun, too, because all the women gather around this huge pot on the fire and grab handfuls of the maça dough to roll and toss into the pot, laughing and gossiping as they work. It is, like most other things women do here, a social event where jokes are told and each woman’s cooking style is critiqued. One woman was incessantly chastising the others for dropping maça balls or missing the pot. “Almost a kilo of maça on the ground! Who taught you how to throw? Lift your arms, ladies!” She was a kick. Coming back at this point in my service is bizarre, because now I actually understand about 90% of what is said, instead of standing around shy and unsure, not wanting to ask questions. This time I could laugh and joke along with them, and could respond to my mama’s loud, slurred, and ridiculously fast Criolu without asking for her to repeat it five times. It lifts one’s drowning spirit to feel like you have somehow “made it” in the grand scheme of cross-cultural integration, and when you realize you can still be funny in another language.
Being in São D reminded me of how much I like the feeling of that small community, more than the fast pace of Assomada. Without doubt, Assomada is calma and much smaller than Praia, content with its quiet house-bound nights and closer-knit community members more likely to know who lives down the road than people in the capital city. Yet Assomada is continuously growing, constantly moving to that point at which it ceases to look and sound like a pseudo-city and actually becomes a city. It just doesn’t feel as homey until you get to the outskirts of Assomada, where you can hear the “Txiga!” and see people truly enjoying the presence of others. In São D I can approach the town rapazes (young men) without hearing “branca, abo e bonita” (“white girl, you’re beautiful”) or being too overly disgusted by the Cape Verdean rape stare. That doesn’t go away no matter where you go in this country, but there are levels, and Assomada’s is higher than that of São D. I can actually have male friends there, which has still been hard for me to do in Assomada. I just don’t trust them and generally get frustrated too quickly. But I digress.
Last thing to mention since I last updated: yesterday was funcionarios day for the Center, where all the employees of the Center (and me) went out for the day and had a BBQ in Rui Vaz, a community just up the hill from São Domingos. We sent the girls off to the boys’ center in Picos, packed everything up in the car, and went on our merry way to begin our day without responsibilities. After driving around forever to find a good spot to set up camp, we finally settled in and grilled fish, chicken, and pork for a delicious lunch, complete with gooey chocolate cake. We chatted, laughed, rested, danced, and took tons of pictures. I was the official photographer for the day and gladly accepted my duty as an opportunity to join people together and get them up and moving around. I took 74 pictures in all. I was busy. They turned on the music and went to town, and eventually I got a chance to impress them with my wild funana abilities, which they all agreed were more than acceptable. That’s what you get for having hips and a well-endowed back end to work with. Overall, it turned out to be a fun day that I think everyone enjoyed. It gave them a chance to relax and socialize outside of work, but I think honestly I gained more from it than them, just for the chance to get to know them on a personal non-work level. Until now I have never felt fully comfortable around them (specifically the mães), always nervous and unsure of myself, losing all confidence and ability to speak around them (I honestly have no idea why, they’re not that intimidating) to the extent that I’m sure most of them think I just don’t understand hardly any Criolu. But this gave me a chance to relax and talk with them more naturally instead of merely in situations of asking for something. So for me it was good, a chance to connect on a different level, making future work efforts a lot easier. All work and no play make Center workers dull and frustrated boys and girls (mostly girls).
Anyhow, so that was the last few weeks for me. I’ll let it all sink in and you can digest it before I move on with the introspective analysis. Save that for next week. Bet you can’t waitJ.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Outkast is everlaaastin'...
I have to take a short break from work to write about my elatedness at this moment, the moment when a Peace Corps Volunteer truly feels her role being done as it “should” look. I have been trying to elicit help from the youth volunteers at the CEJ to come help out at the girls’ Center, seeking to create interest in
I guess all the screaming I was talking about before finally paid off and someone heard.
As another note, I have officially begun giving English classes at the CEJ, even though I didn’t really want to originally. I figure it will help give me experience for the future, knowing what it is like to teach language and being able to do it elsewhere. So even though it takes up time I could be using to do other things, I have about 9-12 people each session (I do two a week, so about 20 youth) who come to hear what Teacher has to offer so they can learn to talk to tourists and go study outside of the country. The first lesson when we talked about why people wanted to learn English, I ended up imploring them to come back to
One last thing. We took the first group of girls to Tarrafal last Sunday, and had a wonderful time. Even though the mães forgot to bring balls and toys to play with, we buried each other in sand, played in the water, hunted for sea creatures, and ate lunch and snack, a truly complete day at the beach. Here are some pictures from the experience:
This girl, Patrícia is soooo adorable. She was cleaning the sand off my feet for me:)
Haha, we filled her suit with sand so she'd look pregnant. When you don't have things to make sandcastles, you get creative...
We borrowed a ball from local boys for a bit.
We will be taking the second group this coming Sunday, I’ll post pictures of that later. Aaaaand, I get to stay in Tarrafal because IST is finally arriving! Woohoo, finally we get to spend a week with all the Volunteers, sharing stories, having fun, bitching about Peace Corps, etc. etc. We are staying in these cute little bungalows right on the beach and much fun will be had, I am sure. I am also sure there will be plenty of pictures to show from that as well. But for now, I should get back to work…no more slacking off…
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