Back in the Land of Milk n’ Honey...

and cheese and chocolate,

and current and touch-screen phones,

and hot showers and traffic lights…

sure is strange.

I’m back Stateside on a medevac (medical evacuation) and at this point, I’m thinking I’m not going to be returning to Liberia. I have to basically be “healthy and stable” within 45 days or else I’ll get med-sepped (medically separated) from the PC. While I’m trying to stay positive, I highly doubt I’ll be cleared before that designated time frame. I was initially very sad by this news, but I’m trying to make the best of it. There are only so many tears you can cry! At least I’m here in the STL with my network of family and friends, and I’ve been able to enjoy the luxuries of western civilization once again!

Like hot showers…woah! And hair dryers…can you say a-ma-zing?! Not to mention the food. Geesh, I’ve never been so excited to eat! (Remember the scene from the end of “Charlotte’s Web” where the rat Templeton goes on a smorgasbord at the state fair? He eats a little bit of anything and everything and by the end of his feeding frenzy, he’s dragging his belly along on the ground as he walks. I feel a little like that with all the lovely foods I’ve been eating!) Thankfully, I went to the Mexican store con mi mamá to purchase some items for our annual New Years Day tradition of tamale-making. And what did I find, to my delighted surprise? Well, I shall tell you (because I know you’re so interested). They have mango, guava, and sugar cane! I bought them, of course, and ate them all for dinner to remind me of sun-shiny Liberia! I’m hoping the global market has dried cassava leaves though…. J

I’ve also been keeping myself busy doing chores, which are fun now, thanks to the machines of modern technology. Who knew that doing dishes in a sink and under a faucet of running water would be so pleasurable?! And I’ve been using the washer and dryer machines--so convenient!--to do wash, while listening to African music on my iPod (and dancing), of course. I am definitely more appreciative of all the things I--we, as Americans--have that make life so much easier.

Yes, I am appreciative of temperature-controlled buildings, light bulbs (despite being temporarily blinded the moment I flicked the switch in my hallway for the first time), and traffic-law-abiding-drivers. However, I am not a fan of the cold weather. My first night at home, I slept under 3 blankets, including an electric one. I walk around the heated house in layers of under-armor and alpaca wool pants, sweater, hat, and slippers (of the warm n’ fuzzy variety). Today I went on a 7 mile jog during a snow storm and wore 15 articles of clothing. 15! That’s how cold it is here. I sure am not in Africa anymore! I hope I acclimatize sooner rather than later….

I am still speaking Liberian English small-small and can’t stop talking about “Liberia this…” and “Liberia that…”, but readjustment isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Granted I was only there for 6 months, I’m finding I’m able to get back into the groove of things easier than I thought. While living with my parents again is, let’s just say interesting, I am trying to stay positive. Who knows what new adventure I’ll tackle next, but I’ll never forget the experiences I had in Liberia and the amazingly passionate PCVs I am lucky enough to call my friends and colleagues. And the PC Liberia staff, both American and Liberian, work tirelessly to make sure everything runs smoothly and that the Volunteers have the support and resources they need. I know they all will continue to do great work over there and will only serve to improve the education system in the land I consider my second home. So best of luck, PC Liberia, in the year 2013! May it be filled with sunshine, smiles, and less spying from your students!

*Fellow PCVs: don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything sent to you in a care package. I.e., Oreos are so cheap here!

Mucho love,

~Dany/Lela/Ms. Bendu~

You are not at liberty to give up.

"Although I may not see it in my lifetime, peace will overcome. I believe, I know, that if you have unshakable faith in yourself, in your sisters and in the possibility of change, you can do almost anything.

The work is hard. The immensity of what needs to be done is discouraging. But you look at communities that are struggling on a daily basis. They keep on--and in the eyes of the people there, you are a symbol of hope. And so you, too, must keep on. You are not at liberty to give up.

Don't stop, echoes the older Liberian lady's voice. Don't ever stop.

My answer to her: I never will."

--Leymah Gbowee, Mighty Be Our Powers

 

I may be coming home tomorrow (fingers crossed it's just a visit and not permanent!), but I will be back. My work here is not done.

St. Louis, beware! Africanized Dany is comin' to town!

Follow the yellow brick (or red dirt) road!

Photo Dump #5

Here are some of the photos from the month of December here in Liberia.

A Liberian ornament!

Happy belated Hanukkah, merry Christmas, and happy new year!

Photo Dump #4

Here are more photos from October through the end of November. I hope you find them to be fine-oh!

Me at the U.S. Ambassador's house for Thanksgiving Dinner.
I probably ate my body-weight in food. Not really, but I probably came close. :-D
I did have 2 full paltes of food & 2 full plates of dessert. Yay for Turkey Day!



Photo Dump #3

Here are some more photos, from August - September.
More to come from October - present!

Enjoy!

Rachel, Mark (our landlord), and I back in September.  Rachel was "wearing African", I was "wearing European", and Mark was in a "coat suit", looking snazzy.  While the program started 3 hours late, it was wonderfully Liberian:  full of song and prayer, appreciation speeches, donations and pledges (that will probably be unfulfilled), and of course, food!  Overall, it was another good day in the lives of Bendu and Tenneh in good 'ole Gbarma town.  :-)

Barefoot, Naked, Dirt Road, Palm Trees

Well, here we are at Thanksgiving time again, when we must ask ourselves what we’re thankful for.  This time last year I was in Peru visiting my dear friend, Maren, in Lima and our dinner consisted of steak fajitas, margaritas, and not much contemplation of what we were grateful for.  Boy, have things changed.  While I again am out of the States for the second Thanksgiving in a row, I definitely have “plenty tings” I am thankful for.

I am thankful for the fact that I am alive and able to be living in Africa right now.  While there are things that drive me “banana-sandwich” (thank you, Morgan Weir) sometimes, I love it here.  To quote Bradley Zemmel (haha), I often have to pinch myself and ask “Am I in the Twilight Zone?”  I’ve been here over 5 months already and sometimes I still can’t believe it.  I’m having the best experience of my life.

But it’s not all just unicorns and gumdrops and rainbows.  Some days are what I call “bleh days”:  I’m tired, cranky, and feel defeated as an educator and PCV.  Then there are the days I feel like Superman after having just saved the world once again:  nothing and no one can stop me!  And most days, I feel a little bit of both ends of Dany’s Emotional Spectrum, but hey, that’s the life of a typical PCV.  (At least I’m more in tune with my mood swings now, eh?)  Sometimes you feel the really low lows and the really high highs all in the same day, but you just take it a day at a time and learn to laugh, a lot.

So I am thankful for my sense of humor.  And for my ability to laugh at any situation.  Like my students trying, and failing miserably, to pronounce the German last names of the scientists who contributed to the 3 tenants of Cell Theory.  That day I literally doubled over laughing for a good 5 minutes, with tears streaming down my face, in front of my 10^th graders.  I think they appreciated it.  :-)  Or the time I was on one of my weekend long runs and sank in Liberian quicksand (deceptively solid-looking, gushy mud) at the edge of the road.  I was in deep, up past my ankles, as I was dodging a pen-pen (motorbike), all in the name of safety!  After screaming some choice words that I won’t repeat here into the backdrop of palm trees, vines, and ferns, I just burst into hysterical laughter.  Then I continued to jog for 40 more minutes with really squishy, heavy tennis shoes.  When I finally reached my house, I had a good laugh and photo session with the “pekings” (kids) and ended up having a fantastic Saturday.

I’m also thankful for my immune system.  Hearing stories of other PCVs who have had Malaria and Giardia multiple times so early into service is scary, but thankfully, knock on wood, I’ve survived with just 2 mild colds and only two tiny sunburns so far.  I’ve eaten mystery bush meat (probably groundhog) in various soups and never had runny belly!  AND, I haven’t chopped off any fingers yet!  Aren’t you happy about that one, Mommy?  :-)

I’m also so incredibly thankful I have enough food to eat each and every day.  Food is something us middle-class Americans don’t have to worry about.  “When will I eat my next meal?” is a question most of us seldom, if ever, have to ask ourselves.  One of the students in my school said most days he goes to campus with an empty stomach and envies his classmates as they buy food from one another during the Recess break.  (Side note:  Did you know that in Liberia, “recess” really means mini-market time?  I didn’t either!  Okay, tangent aside.)  How can someone be expected to perform well, let alone pay attention, when their stomach is roaring with hunger?  Yes, I’m here “living as the people do” but our PC monthly stipends more-than-provide for our dietary needs.  So we share small with our friends/the neighborhood kids/students whenever we have extras, which is fairly often.

So when you’re sitting down to your turkey dinner with your friends, families, and loved ones, be thankful for the fact that you can even choose between white meat and dark, mashed potatoes or diced and spiced, because the reality is that millions of people don’t have that luxury.

Okay, my “I’ma make you feel guilty, you glutinous Americans” rant is over, I promise.

Another thing I’m thankful for is having the opportunity to experience and learn SO MUCH from a culture that is so different from my own.  It has really helped me examine American cultural norms, values, and expectations and determine what are the things I really like and don’t like without society telling me what and how to think.  Like for instance, having little children running around naked isn’t such a taboo after all, is it?  Why do we have to perceive nudity to be such a terrible thing?  While walking back to Gbarma from the neighboring village of Zuo (which means “stupid” in Gola, by the way…more on that later), Rachel and I saw 3 young boys running towards the creek to “go take bath”.  One peking was wearing shorts that were falling off his butt and had bright yellow “slippers” (flip-flops) that pounded orangish-brown dust into the air as he ran.  The second boy only had on a shirt that wasn’t very long at all and black slippers, and the third and last boy in the group had no clothes or shoes on at all!  They three raced one another to the bridge, ran down the bank, and jumped into the water, splashing and laughing, just having a grand ‘ole time.  And that’s how it should be.  If you want to race your friends down a dirt road in the bush, butt naked, to jump into the refreshingly cool creek as the white women pass, then why the hell shouldn’t you be able to?  We just chuckled to ourselves as we began to climb the hill along the palm trees near the GCS campus, our landmark that we had returned to Gbarma.

Now, “Zuo” means “stupid” in Gola, one of the tribal languages in this western region.  The town has that name because apparently the soil is so fertile, the plants grow stupidly fast.  Seriously.  I laughed the first time I heard it too.  Anyways, the reason we were walking back from Zuo to Gbarma last Saturday was because we were leaving a funeral.  Our school’s Registrar passed away last month due to heart and kidney complications, AND African magic and poisoning, if you ask the Liberians.  After a very long day and very interesting service―complete with colorful lappa dresses, singing and dancing, fake flowers and ribbon wreaths, lots of sweating, fainting, wailing, hysterical crying/fits of uncontrollable sorrow, and a burial in an above-ground-tomb of ceramic bathroom tiles―we said goodbye to Uncle One-Eye (yes, that’s his nickname).  While I didn’t know Konah all that well and only interacted with him a limited number of times, I was still affected by his passing because it affected the entire community.  And while it SUCKED to see his family members in their suffering during the service, it was also nice to see how the entire community came together during this terrible time.

So, with that said, I am extremely grateful that I am now a part of a society in which the community actually means something.  People living in poverty scrape together what they can to contribute to the family’s funeral expenses.  Zuo probably slaughtered their entire supply of chickens for the post-funeral meal.  Villagers gave up their beds to allow strangers, friends and family from Monrovia, to sleep in their homes the night of the wake.  People here really come together and are there for one another when it’s really needed.  So I’m thankful for that.  I’m thankful people here care for you and aren’t shy, ashamed, or afraid to let you know it.  Oh, and the people here let me know just how much they love me, but I’ll save that for another blog post. :-)

And I’m thankful I have so many supportive and loving people in my life.  So here is my Thanksgiving message to you:  I’m grateful for you!  And I hope you appreciate what you have and cherish those around you, because you never know if you’ll make it to the next Thanksgiving.  So take the time to thank whatever God, spirit(s), forces, elements of nature, whatever you believe in today.  Thank Him/it/them for this day, for this life, and enjoy it to the fullest!  Happy Thanksgiving!

Honeymoon's Over, Baby! Now This Gets Real...

So now I've been here for 106 days, not that I'm counting or anything. ;-)

I actually am. I write in my journal every day & title each entry with the day #. I can't believe how long it's been. Another PCV said it best: "The days seem long, but the weeks fly by." This is so true.

The day after we swore-in was moving day to site. I was feeling pretty good, despite the long night of celebrating before. All I'll say about the end-of-PST celebration here is there was so much dancing involved that my legs hurt the next day. And I lost my voice. Anyhoo, Doe Palace was full of chartered taxis, and all us PCVs hugged one another goodbye as the drivers piled their vehicles high with all our luggage and supplies for our new homes. I honestly don't know how our taxi made it to Gbarma. It was LOADED with 5 large suitcases, 2 backpacks, a 40 gallon rain barrel, a coal pot (think mini-BBQ pit), 2 water filters, 2 mosquito nets, 2 folded-up "bug-hut" tents, a broom, and a 25 lb. box of goodies my family sent from home, among other items. Yes, some items fell off the taxi during the ride, but we and all our things eventually made it to our new home in one piece, thankfully.

After our neighbors and driver helped us unload the car, it finally hit me: I'm really here in Africa. I'm living here. For 2 years. In a town where I'm one of the 2 token "white women". It was a bit startling and awkward. What do we do now? So I took the broom and swept our entire house so at least the "dirt" (dirt+dust+trash+etc.) would be out before we moved everything in. My roomie, Rachel, and I then proceeded to drag everything in from our porch and begin to unpack and get settled in. It was a very sweaty afternoon. That was Saturday, August 4th.

Now that we've been at site for 6 weeks, we're definitely all settled in and the "honeymoon phase" is over. While I still love this place, there are definitely things that are frustrating, challenging, and just plain bad. But there are many aspects of life that I don't like from back home, and I think the pros far outweigh the cons here. I now have a more realistic outlook about life here. I'm still very happy that I'm here, doing what I'm doing. I still can't imagine doing anything else at this point in my life. So that's gotta mean something, right?

Now that school has FINALLY begun (after a 2+ week delay from the Ministry of Education...long story), things are a lot better. Man, do Americans love our routines. I was so irritable the week before school started; I was just itchin' to have some structure to my schedule, as was Rachel. I yelled at a lot of kids that week. (Side note: major props to all the parents out there. I don't know how you do it. I for sure have decided parenting isn't for me. At least not for another 10 years. The children in Gbarma are excellent birth control.)

Back to the topic of school, it officially started Mon., Sept. 10th, but that first day was really just for show. No learning/teaching actually happened, and it didn't anywhere in the country. But that's normal here. Our students were working on the campus instead, brushing (cutting the tall grass with machetes), cleaning up construction materials, etc. The school has no janitorial staff. (Half of the teaching staff hasn't even arrived or if they have, they aren't on campus regularly.) Then Tuesday and Wednesday of that first week were just introductory lessons. We talked to our students about ourselves...our education, our families and homes, and about Peace Corps (history and mission). We also talked about our class rules and procedures, as well as our teaching philosophies and how we'll teach and assess our students. Thursday we started giving notes and have been doing so since, so that makes 7 days of actual teaching so far. I also gave all my students (8th grade general science and 10th & 11th grade biology) diagnostic tests based on material from the MOE curriculum from the previous year. Almost everyone failed, but that's to be expected. So I'm doing a lot of review before/while I give them some new information. While we've only had 2 weeks of school, I absolutely love it. My 8th graders can be real troublesome, but my 10th and 11th graders are fantastic little angels in comparison. AND, they ask questions because they are curious, not just because they are confused.

While some of my students are older than me, have children, are "self-supporting" (on their own, without parental support, monetarily or emotionally), or some combination of the three, they still seem eager to learn. They ask good questions, participate in class, and (I think) enjoy my demos/models/visuals/drawings/analogies/memory tricks. So school is going well. I think I can now add "science teacher" to my resume.

I could also add:
-seamstress (I sewed a skirt entirely by hand, including putting in the zipper. Can you tell how proud I am about that? :-) It's not perfect, but hey, it fits!)
-African chef/coal-pot master (I can light it with only 1 match!)
-football (soccer ball) repair-woman (duct tape really CAN fix everything)
-jewelry maker (I've literally made over 50 pairs of rock earrings for the women in Gbarma, along with countless rings and pendants. Thank you, Morgan, for the supplies!)
-accidental gardener (We've got cherry tomatoes a-growin' right outside out house! And thanks to Mindy for all the seeds! Hopefully the peppers come up soon!)
-exercise instructor (We "train" the kids with various stretches, sit-ups, and wall-sits. Thank you, Ian, for the inspiration.)
-math & physics tutor (2 of my least favorite subjects but somehow, the information stuck in my brain)

So that's what my life's been like the past few months. PST ended, we moved to site, I have many new hobbies, and I enjoy teaching. I still read and run a lot, too. I did an 18 miler a few weeks ago that was a killer (HILLY and HOT), but I got to see the Lofa River and cross into the the next county, Grand Cape Mount (I'm in Gbarpolu). Anyhoo, that's probably a long enough entry for now. Oh! But one last anedote, then I'll finish this post, I promise.

One evening, after we had been playing games with some children on our porch until past dark, we were asked to lead an end-of-the-night group prayer. Me, lead prayer? Ha. So I tried to weasel out of it. "I don't know of any prayers in English. I'm not Christian or Muslim [the only 2 religions here], remember?" The group replied,"It's alright, Auntie Bendu ["Benu"]. Say any one!" So we circled up, held hands, and bowed our heads. I then proceeded to say a simple prayer in Hebrew. It started off as most prayers, "Baruch ata Adonoi, ..." but when I got towards the end I hesitated. Then I added the first thing that came to my mind. "...borei pri hagafen." That's the prayer for the...wait for it...wine. Wine! WINE! What the heck? I guess my subconscious really missed some good vino rojo. Thankfully, no one here knows Hebrew. Then Rachel did the "Our Father" Catholic prayer. Then our neighbor, Zinnah (17), led a prayer in Arabic. Rachel and I had a good laugh about that experience after we sent the kiddos home. Ah, Liberia. You never know what funny thing is going to happen! :-D

Swearing-In: We're Officially PCVs!

LR-3 & Response-12 Swears-In as Official Peace Corps Volunteers, Fri., Aug. 03, 2012
With Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, President of the Republic of Liberia

Culture: Food, Money, Language, & Dancing!

In the past 2 months I’ve eaten more rice than I probably normally eat in a year! Can you say carb-loading?! Rice is a staple here and we eat it 1-2 times a day with soup, which is really a stew that goes on top of the rice. Some of my favorite soups are: potato green, cassava leaf, pumpkin, bitterball (like mini-eggplant), ground pea (peanut butter), and peppeh (pepper). At Doe Palace, the training compound, we’re spoiled and have chicken in every soup and while it’s good, I’m very much looking forward to getting to site and becoming mostly vegetarian again.

I've also tried fufu a number of times, although it’s not my favorite. It’s basically made from ground and boiled cassava and is dough-like, slimy and sticky, and you swallow it with peppeh soup. Imagine: me eating fufu at the table across from my host pa on Liberian Independence Day (July 26^th) and trying not to vomit or cry with each swallow (I have a sensitive gag reflex!). Let’s just say I “tried it small” and then politely stopped eating.

I’ve also eaten plenty of fried plantains and peanut butter and scrambled egg sandwiches. I’m so glad I’m not a picky eater! I’ve also tried the traditional kola nut, which is a great source of caffeine (and is incredibly bitter), and drink coconut milk straight from the coconut a couple times a week. It’s quite refreshing! Some food items have different names here too, i.e., avocadoes are called butter pears and mangos are plums. While the cravings for American sweet and salty snacks comes and goes, you can get popcorn, plantain chips, and biscuits (cookies) virtually anywhere, so I’m not missing food from home too much yet. We PCTs cooked an incredible Mexican dinner last night, and I literally ate more food in that one setting that I have in the past 2 months. Needless to say, I had trouble walking and breathing afterwards because I was so full. So I guess I’d say I miss Mexican food more than American food! I’m more aware of just how important food is to culture here: besides providing nourishment and affecting one’s mood, it also shapes many traditional activities. Luckily for us, food here is pretty cheap.

Now as far as money goes, $1.00 US = $75.00 Liberty / Liberian Dollars (LD). Here are some examples of pricing: $140 LD can get you a large beer (the size of a wine bottle) or a 1.5 hour taxi ride, which equates to about $1.86 US. I can buy a small loaf of bread for $20 LD and a pineapple for $50 or 100 LD, but a bottle of honey that fits in the palm of my hand costs $310 LD (~$4 US). Imported specialty items are the only items that are really pricey.

They don’t have coins here, and instead use bills that range in 5, 10, 20, 50, and 100 denominations. While PC gives us a monthly allowance, transport allowance for PC-related travel (i.e., banking), and a settling-in allowance for furniture, we really aren’t living off of much by US standards. Luckily we don’t have to pay directly for rent and don’t have utilities (we na geh current heyah=we don’t have current here), but we are still living how the people live, which I find rather simple yet comfortable.

Now for Liberian English (LE)…. While it’s based on Standard English (SE), obviously, it deviates in so many ways so I’ve been struggling small small. (By the way, “small small” or just “small” means a bit and is used here frequently.) I find that speaking LE is like trying to break the grammar and pronunciation rules that have been drilled into my brain since grade school. And for those of you who know me, I’m a grammar stickler.

Many words have different meanings here too, which aren’t too confusing once you hear it and practice it enough times. Saying “embarrass” means to be bothered, and it can be used to describe inanimate objects, i.e. “The rain is embarrassing me.” When requesting someone to move to make room for you to sit, you don’t ask them to move over or scoot; you ask them to “dress small”. “Carry” is used for having someone take you to a place. For example, “Momoh can carry me to the market, but I will not carry his mother to America with me!” Get it? “Brushing” means to cut the grass (with machete-like blades), and “I reaching” means that you’re arriving to your destination.

Fortunately, we’ll be teaching in SE because the students need to practice hearing, speaking, and writing properly. We will only need to speak LE to reinforce a confusing concept or while talking small with community members. Also, we’ve been learning a local language, and where I’ll be living, people speak Gola plenty, and I can kind of speak that well…at least the greetings and basic phrases! (I actually was speaking Gola small in my dream the other night. In a WalMart. Super strange.) Gola is spoken by the the Gola people, the smallest of the 16 ethnic groups in Liberia. Cool fast fact: President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf’s father was Gola!

Anyways, many of the Oma’s (old ma’s) in the town I’ll be living in, Gbarma (“Bama”), speak Gola so we can practice with them, the neighbor children, and our Principal, Boima. Here’s some Gola for ya:
-Miŋ yáá téé. = “Meh ya teh.” = I’m good.
-Keen muŋ yáá naŋ ñe-ñe? = “Keen mua ya na ñe-ñe?” = What’ve you been doing today?
-Bo náánáán bá fé! = “Banana buffet!” = No bad news!
-Káá lei féi daya! = “Ka-lee fay dai-ya!” = Thank God / Praise God! (You use this to answer any “how” question…how are you, how’s the family, how are the students, etc.)

Another big part of the culture is dancing. I just love the atmosphere here…you can go out and “act a fool” without anyone caring or judging you. I find myself imitating some of the African moves and mixing them in with some of mine, which are part mosh-pit raging, part salsa, part running-in-place. It’s quite the workout, such a great stress-reliever, and so much fun! They listen to some American music here, including a lot of Rihanna and Chris Brown, along with Celine Deon and Backstreet Boys ballads, which I find hilarious. But the majority of the music they listen to is African, particularly from Nigeria or Ghana. Some song titles include “Enter My Center”, “Chop My Money”, “Azonto”, “I Need an African Man”, and “Shake Your Bon-Bon”. They are all very upbeat and are played multiple times a night at each bar, night club, or house party.

Anyways, that’s a little insight to Liberian culture. Tomorrow we’re heading to Monrovia for our swearing-in ceremony, in which the Pres., Ma Ellen, will speak. We will take the PC oath and officially become Peace Corps Volunteers. This is what I’ve been waiting for! Then Saturday we’re off to site. My roommie Rachel and I will be busy getting our home furnished and set up and then we have some down time to visit some local farms and get to know our community. School starts on Aug. 22^nd, and I’ll be teaching 8^th grade general science and 10^th and 11^th grade biology. I’ll have between 120 and 150 students total. While I’m not looking forward to the days that test my patience and cultural sensitivity, I’m especially excited for those breakthrough “lightbulb” moments! Also, while I won’t have internet at site, I’ll try to go online when I come into Monrovia for banking. I hope my friends and family are doing well back home, and I hope to continue to receive your messages and letters; they really help keep me going. Until next time, nisiia!

Photo Dump #2

Since I will soon no longer have access to the internet, I uploaded all my remaining photos to my Facebook page. Here is the link for those of you not on FB:

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.1979613572510.2055789.1308271125&type=1&l=42b3d41129

 

 

Also, if you'd like to learn more about Liberian history, politics, and culture, below are some suggested documentaries to watch and books to read:

-"Pray the Devil Back to Hell"

-"Iron Ladies of Liberia"

-This Child Will Be Great: Memoir of a Remarkable Life by Africa's First Female President by Liberia's President, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf

-Mighty Be Our Powers: How Sisterhood, Prayer, and Sex Changed a Nation at War by Leymah Gbowee

Photo Dump #1

If you would like to check out some of the photos I uploaded onto Facebook yesterday, please visit my Facebook page, Danielle Zemmel.

If you do not have an account on Facebook, don't fret! You can still view the photos here:

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.1974601967223.2055696.1308271125&type=3&l=6047e887ab

 

Enjoy!

Meh ya kamo.

That’s “I’m a teacher” in Gola, which is the local language I’m learning. Never have I been more appreciative of the hard work and preparation my educators had to do to ensure my peers and I received a good quality education. Teaching requires a lot of planning, trial and error, energy, and creativity. I’m usually emotionally exhausted by the end of a school day and ready for bed around 8 pm.

The past 2 weeks I had been teaching 9^th graders at Lango Lippaye (“Lango Lippie”) High School. The school is a convenient 30 second walk from my home stay and has both junior and senior high (grades 7-12) students. The students got to attend this vacation school for them to get a head-start on the upcoming year, and we, the Trainees, were able to get a feel for teaching in a Liberian classroom. Having this opportunity was incredibly helpful! We were able to experiment; we got to see what techniques work and what didn’t. We also received feedback from other PCTs, experienced PCVs, and host country staff technical trainers. This feedback was key to improvement, and I know we all have improved from day one back on July 2^nd. 

On the last day of Model School, last Friday (the 13^th), I gave my students a cumulative test on the topics we’ve learned in General Science class:  the respiratory, circulatory, and skeletal systems. While I was initially feeling a little insecure about teaching anatomical and physiological concepts, it was actually fun reviewing the systems and planning my lessons. While my interests lie in all things environmental, I enjoyed attempting to make each lesson contain an interactive and interesting activity so that the content would stick in their minds. And I’d say for the most part, I was successful based on the stats:

-of the 40+ enrolled, 23 were present on day #1 (7 female, 16 male)

-of the 50+ enrolled towards the end, 34 were present on day #10-exams day (11 female, 23 male)

-30 students attended class consistently

-final exam score range:  45-105% (submitted:  50-100%...explained below)

-overall score range:  39-95% (submitted:  50-95%...also explained below)

I’m not measuring success here only by the amount of passes vs. fails. I like to know the numbers, but I assess success based on how engaged my students were in the class, how much they enjoyed it, how much I believe they will retain the information, and lastly, how much their overall academic practices improved (i.e., study and test-taking skills). I’m not going to change the world serving as a PCV over here; it’s simply impossible. But if I can help a handful of students “succeed”, then my time spent here will have been worth it.

Some students found my final exam, and my class in general, to be challenging, while others found it easy and a bit of a review. This is pretty representative of the broad range of prior knowledge students in the same classroom can have. (In some cases, students in 12^th grade are still illiterate!) Also, there is a great gap in the ages of students. My 9^th graders (typically 14-15 years old in the States) were between 12 and 18. And that’s not even a bad disparity; in the bush, where most of us will be teaching, we will have grandparents as our students. The years of war really demolished the education sector here and many people struggle to work, take care of their families, and attend school off-and-on for sometimes decades.

In order to keep older students moving on through the system, to eventually minimize the age disparities in classes, and to reduce class sizes (currently can have up to 150 students), the Ministry of Education (MOE) has established certain grading standards. Basically, there are no letter grades and there’s no such thing as a GPA figure. If a student scores lower than a 70% in a specific class, they fail. If they score lower than a 50%, the actual score is insignificant, and they are automatically given a 50%. A student is able to move on to the next grade level only if their grade average from all of their classes is 70% or higher. So for the students that got 45% in my class overall, I had to record on my gradesheet that they earned a 50%. That way, a student that fails general science but passes everything else can move on to the next grade. This, in the eyes of the MOE, helps advance students through the system. Also, for the students that earned over 100% on my test, with bonus points included, I could only record a 100% on my gradesheet. The bonus points would come into play with their overall final average with all their classes if they were borderline 69-70%.

We’ve had many presentations and open discussions, both with PC Staff and Liberian educators, about this grading system, and while it’s different from our own, we’re not here to change it. We just have to be understanding of it and do the best we can. Initially I wasn’t too fond of this system, viewing it as grade-fudging, and there is so much more I could say about this, but I think instead I’ll move on to some more info. about my experience in Model School and the Liberian education system in general.

I experienced many emotions during Model School. Sometimes I left my 45 minute 2^nd period class feeling triumphant and other times I felt defeated. At times I was excited to plan the next lesson and in other instances, I was ready to cry. But overall, that’s life. There are always going to be ups and downs, but I’m looking forward to my 2 years of teaching in Gbarma (pronounced “Bama”), Gbarpolu (“Bapolu”) County. I’ll be living and teaching there with my roommate Rachel S. (from Ohio, teaching English) and we’ll be the first PCVs at that site. It will be both nice and challenging being the first Americans there:  nice because we won’t have to live up to expectations of previous Volunteers and challenging because the community won’t know what the role of a PCV is and may expect us to simply give hangouts like all the NGOs (which we don’t). We’ll just have to see what happens!

As far as the school schedule, there are 2 semesters, each containing 3 grading periods, so 6 total. PC is only in government schools at this point, and students in secondary high schools (grades 10-12) must pay to attend school. All 9^th and 12^th graders must take a test called the West African Examinations Council (WAEC). The WAEC is similar to the ACT or SAT that American students take in order to attend university but here, seniors must pass it to graduate. There are 9 subject areas on the WAEC and students must pass 6, including math and English. The test questions are mostly generated by teachers from Monrovia, where the schools are exponentially better, and therefore, the questions are ridiculously difficult. What’s more, the test is only given in Liberia, so if a student wanted to attend university in another W. African country, their score would be useless. (Can you tell I’m not too fond of the WAEC?) Even if the WAEC made sense to administer, many students are so desperate to finally get their high school certificate that they are willing/forced to pay a “flexibility fee”, which is essentially a bribe. While corruption and bribery is condemned outright by the MOE, it still happens (more so in the upcountry schools, where PCVs serve).

Two major things that differentiate American teachers from Liberian teachers (and this is just a generalization, not an absolute) is that we:  1.) don’t accept bribes from students and 2.) don’t tolerate spying (cheating). I had some issues with attempted spying in my class during Model School but if you eliminate the potential to spy and enforce your rules/consequences, then it’s drastically minimized (but never eliminated).

Wrapping up this post, my students sang “Happy Birthday” to me on Mon. the 9^th, and we had a great MS Closing Ceremony on Sat. the 14^th. Speeches were made and students sang, performed skits, and received certificates for completing the 2 weeks. The top student from each grade will also get a new uniform for the upcoming year, and the top male and female 12^th grade students will get their WAEC fees paid for by PC. Overall, it was a great experience, and I’m glad I survived Model School. Today we are having a workshop with our Principal and tomorrow we will go visit our site (explore the community and school) for a few days. I now feel a little more at ease (and excited!) to teach in Gbarma for the next 2 years! Meh yaa koyeh kaafeh! (I’m going to teach!)

My students after they sang me "Happy Birthday" on July 9th.

Students hinge-joint (knee, elbow) dancing in class (skeletal system lesson)!

With some of my 9th graders at Model School Graduation.

My host family: the Seyboes (Patricia, me,
Marthalyn, & Gbangawoe, aka Eddie)

Just Call Me Dennis

"Ma nee Dany"

Translation from Liberian English: “My name is Dany.” I’m not going by Danielle here because I consider everyone associated with Peace Corps Liberia to be my extended family, and I only allow my close friends and family to call me Dany. But somehow, “Da-nee” is tricky for the pekins (little kids) to say. So I frequently hear “Dennis” being yelled from across the house or yard. Yup, Dennis. I find it hilarious and find myself laughing and employing humor on a regular basis here to get through situations we’ll just call interesting. The phrase T.I.A. (This is Africa!) is one that often crosses my mind. I’m here, this is real, and having a positive outlook will make this entire experience that much more enjoyable. I’ve only been here just about 3 weeks and already this place has wholly and completely captured my heart.

Back to the topic of names…my African name is Lela (emphasis on the “a”), which means “satisfy” in Kpelle (pronounced “pe-leh”. My family, the Seyboes, named me that because they are very satisfied I am in their home. I live with my Pa, Eddie, my Ma, Patricia, my sis, Marthalyn (9), and my baby sis, Felisha (Fefe, 1 yr. 2 months) in a very nice home in the Bassa Quarter. The neighborhoods here are divided by ethnic communities. The Seyboes also have a son, Eddie, Jr., who is 19 and lives in NJ. Eddie, Sr. is the Assistant to the Mayor of Kakata and is also a pastor at a large church in the city. Patricia is a beautician and is going to platt (braid) my hair sometime soon! My family here has really made me feel like this is my second home. I actually just started watching a Filipino soap opera with my Ma & Marthalyn, which is reminiscent of the late nights I’d spend with Mama Zemmel watching las telenovelas mexicanas.  I HAVE BEEN SUCKED IN TO THE SOAP! My ma and I also have really great conversations, from exchanging funny stories to learning recipes to deep discussions about the recent evolution of culturally-appropriate gender roles and expectations. My host parents are also incredibly appreciative of me (and other PC Trainees) being here to help rebuild the educational system. The Seyboe family strongly regards education, and they also help some extended family members with school, along with housing, clothing, food, etc. They are truly generous people, and don’t worry, Mommy, I’m in good hands.  :-D  Plus, Patricia and the Ma of my friend Gabrielle are trying to set us up with other (older) PC Volunteers! See, the mothers here are only thinking about our best interests!

There are a few neighbor-women that are frequently over at the house and cook over here too. Their children all hang out here too, and they’ve made me feel incredibly welcome here. They help me with Liberian English and chores and make light of when I do things strangely. I’ve actually been making rock earrings for the women and girls to show them my appreciation, which they love. I have already cranked out 10 pairs, and the requests keep coming in!

As far as chores, they don’t let me really do any unless I impose myself to help. I’ve washed dishes, swept, and pumped water (I have yet to carry it on my head, but it WILL happen!). I haven’t done laundry yet, since I really over-packed, but I will in a few weeks. Due to the climate, it takes a long time for clothes to dry (rain + humidity). We also have to bucket bathe 1-2 times a day here. Liberians typically bathe 2-4 times/day though. The rainy season is in mid-swing so we’re frequently rinsing off mud from our feet and legs. When the dry season begins in November we’ll be rinsing the red dust from off of our skin.

Although walking everywhere means we’re almost always dirty, it allows us to interact with the community. It’s culturally impolite to not wave and greet people as you pass by them. It’s amazing how powerful a simple smile can be. I smile a lot here, so much so that my cheekbones are sore sometimes. I’m going to have a lot of wrinkles when I become an old woman!

Now on to language…some of them have names that are uncommon in the States and would seem easy to pronounce but Liberian English is tricky. Blessing, Praise, Willamena, and Comfort are some examples, but, take Comfort for example: here, it’s pronounced “confor” and you barely even pronounce the “r”. This takes me to Liberian English. Man, where do I start? This will probably be further explained in another blog post, but while Liberians use Standard English spelling, they don’t speak that way. Basically, everything is kind of run together and there are some colloquial phrases. And some words that we use back home have different meanings here. I.e., a plum is what we call a mango, embarrassed is how they describe physical discomfort, and “Yu wan tu eat ma eyeboi” means that someone is trying to cheat you with overcharging for an item or a service. Pronunciation is different too. For instance, we say “Li-beer-i-a” and they say “Li-bee-ria”.

And Liberians are a very proud people. They are also incredibly strong. The country was in a functioning state before the 14 years of 2 civil wars. Many people fled and were refugees in other West African nations, others lost their homes and family members in the war, etc. It makes me incredibly angry and sad to think about the war. It’s important to know about the history and the political atmosphere that led up to the era of destruction, but we can’t let it bring us down. I’ve learned that from the Liberian people. They are incredibly hopeful and have great pride in their nation, something I think more Americans should have. We have NO idea how good we have it. I don’t want to sound preachy, but we really have it good back home. These people lack so much yet they still will share their food with you, wash the mud off your feet, and greet you with a smile and a wave as you stroll by. Life is too short to complain; we have to make the most of what we’ve got and be proactive if we want any change to occur.

Liberians are also religious. Christians (~70%), Muslims (~20%), and those whom practice indigenous religions/other (~10%) are all living and working together to improve the many fragmented infrastructures and systems in the country. My family is very religious and while initially I was a little uncomfortable with it, I’m learning to embrace it. They derive their hope and drive to enjoy life from their faith. I went to church my first Sunday with the family, just to see what it was like, and boy, was that interesting! I was a bit uncomfortable, but they respect my views and appreciated that I at least went to experience the service.

Besides learning about Liberian culture and religion, I’ve been sharing my culture with them. Lately I’ve been showing photos of my family, friends, STL, etc. with my host family and have been coloring with the neighborhood kids. I also taught them how to play slap-jack, and they almost always spy (cheat)! I talk about Mexican food and culture a lot with my host ma too and teach the kids (appropriate) American slang. Sometimes I feel tired trying to keep up with it all but…

Exercising here has helped in keeping me energized. For the first time since probably 4^th grade, I don’t really feel stressed. I try to run throughout my neighborhood in Kakata every other day and on the off-days, I do some sit-ups and push-ups in my room. I have also started journaling every day, which surprisingly was easy to get into despite the fact that I’ve never kept a journal before. I write about things I eat (another blog post) and about the Peace Corps (PC) experience in general.

PC is an organization of the federal government, meaning they LOVE abbreviations. I’m in Pre-Service Training (PST) right now and after we’re sworn in, we’ll be PC Volunteers (PCVs). Before that can happen, I have to pass my Language Proficiency Interview (LPI) with my Language & Cross-Cultural Facilitator (LCF) this Friday. The Country Director (CD) met with the Pres. of Liberia today (super cool!), and there are 35 of us in LR-3 (Liberia Response group-3, post war). LR-1 is about to COS (Close of Service), and LR-2 has 1 more year. So far there are under 80 PCVs & PCTs in-country and we’ll get 11 more Response (emergency) PCVs in August. The group is really like a family. I have trouble opening up to new people, but I’m learning to trust people and build good relationships here.

Our home base is Doe Palace, the compound where we have PST each day from 8 am - 5 pm, but the schedule sometimes changes a bit from day to day. We have current (electricity) here but the generator goes in and out so we mostly just use lights and don’t use the A/C--we use fans instead. The dress code is business casual, but it’s more casual than business due to the climate. However, we are expected to dress modestly and professionally, because here in Liberia dressing in tattered, dirty clothing is known as “Peace Corps style” from before the war. So we’re trying to change that image!

In terms of what we’re learning in PST, we have multiple training sessions each day, with topics including: safety & security, Emergency Action Plan, risk assessment-mitigation-and incident reporting, avoiding unwanted attention, sexual assault prevention and reporting, cultural norms and taboos, Liberian English, and many educational trainings, from blending pedagogies to specific techniques and strategies that are tailored to the limited resources and many obstacles in the Liberian education system. My group is fortunate enough to be part of a pilot program in which Peace Corps issues each of us a Kindle Touch, preloaded with training documents, free books, national curriculum, and standardized test examples, along with other things. So we save paper and the Peace Corps saves money (because it actually costs more to make the thousands of copies).

Overall, I am incredibly happy here. As downright-incredibly-unhappy as I was at the beginning of this year (for various reasons), I have made a 180 degree shift. I feel at ease here and am not stressed. I am getting over my OCD tendencies (who knew Africa would be the cure?!) and am learning to appreciate the little things. While I miss many American institutions and efficiency, I don’t miss too many physical things that are American…except Cheetos. (Although, the stale knock-off brand here ain’t that bad.) I do miss interacting regularly with friends and family, but I do have a phone here so if you would like to get my # so we can chat, just shoot me an email message at djz1247@truman.edu! Also, I welcome little email/Facebook/text blips of current events updates or just updates on your lives! And please feel free to make suggestions for my future blog posts. I know I need to work on length but shoot me ideas for future topics. To whoever reads this, I hope you are doing well and I hope to hear from you soon! :-D

Final thoughts on my last day in the U.S.

Hello, friends!

It's been a very busy past few months, but I've had a blast spending time with family and friends and visiting many new places.  Here's a brief summary with some photos of where I went and what I did:

First I quit my job and then ran my first full marathon, the STL Go!, in mid-April.  Then I visited Miami.  Next, I went on a road-trip to camp and hike in Colorado and (mostly) Utah.  After that, I went to Boston and NYC for the first time:


Then, I came home and went on an incredibly fun float trip. But there aren't any photos from that trip, for obvious reasons.  Lastly, I went to Memphis:


Then I had to come home and see more people, run errands, have a going away party (which was fantastic!), and pack for Peace Corps Liberia.  But I actually didn't pack anything; my friends did it for me.  Aren't they great?!  We went from this (which isn't even half of my stuff) to 3 bags (2 large ones I will check and 1 large carry-on).
 

While I will miss all my friends, I'm glad I got to visit so many of them before I'm leaving (tomorrow!) for 27 months.  I will also miss my family dearly.  Thank you Mommy, Daddy, Sashi, and Sammi for always being loving and supportive!

I would like to thank everyone who has been so supportive of me and my decision to serve as a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV).  Yesterday we had a day of orientation ("Staging") in Washington, D.C. and today we're off to Atlanta and then Monrovia.  From there we will be transported to Kakata, the city in which Pre-Service Training (PST) will occur...and then the adventure will truly begin!  I am so glad I did not let anyone or anything hold me back...I am eager to help in Liberia and ready for the challenges that await me.  I plan to update my blog every 1-2 months, but would love to keep in correspondence with anyone back home.  So feel free to email me at djz1247@truman.edu or send me snail mail to:

Danielle Zemmel, PCV
Peace Corps Liberia
P.O. Box 707
Congo Town
Tubman Blvd.
Monrovia, Liberia
*This is just my address during PST.  It will change once I get placed at project site, after early August.

~See you all in 2014!~
Xoxo,
:-Dany