Damn, African women are impressive!! Surtout working mothers!
A friend is a teacher who had twins in September. She is from the city, but after her maternity leave, she brought her babies “en brousse” to the small village where she teaches. She is lucky because her husband teaches in the same village. If both are civil servants, it is common for couples to be split up and working in different regions of the country.
After returning to her home for summer vacation, she came back to my village on the other end of the country to take a certification exam required at this point in her career. She asked if she could stay with me for a couple days during the exam. It was only when I met her at the bus stop that I realized it meant she would be bringing the 10 month old twins and the maid/nanny (at 12 years old, she is a child herself). To get to this exam she brought 2 babies and a nanny 9 hours on two buses over two days.
Three people caring for two babies should be a breeze, right? Not when you don’t have electricity, a dish washer, laundry machine and you have to pump all the water you use! We all worked constantly- cooking, entertaining babies, washing dishes, chasing babies, washing baby clothes, pulling rocks from babies’ mouths, washing babies, sweeping/washing the porch, and of course pumping water for all the washing,.. All the more difficult at my dirty, non baby proof house! For the first time in their lives, the mom put her babies in diapers. I was incredibly thankful that cleaning baby poop off my porch was not on our list of chores.
The night before the exam she tried to cram in her first few minutes of studying since leaving her home 3 days ago while simultaneously breastfeeding one baby and fanning the other.
On the day of the exam, the nanny and I babysat. Previously, I had been amazed by women who were able to complete their work with a baby tied to on the back. It was this day that I realized it is only when the baby is tied on your back that you are able to compete any work! By the end of the day I felt slightly more confident that the baby wouldn’t fall off my back, and was especially proud of myself when I went to the bathroom in my latrine with a squirming baby strapped to me (it was at this moment that I most wished for a playpen or high chair!) At the end of the day when the mom returned home I was by far the most excited to see her. My neighbors thought my excitement was hilarious and continued to bless/curse me with their wishes that I would also give birth to twins someday.
Kudos to mothers everywhere, especially full-time moms with full time jobs! Also be thankful of playpens and running water!
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Saturday, April 4, 2009
What we've been trying
Why I believe Burkina Faso has a brighter future
My village kids have amazing untapped potential! We decided to try an informal preschool/tutoring program that would be fun and interactive with the goals of fostering an interest in reading and writing and of teaching some basic French to kids before they begin school. Our target audience is kids that are in their first or second year of school, or haven’t yet started.
The 5th/6h grade teacher selected 10 of the strongest and most dynamic readers in his class to be “les petits maîtres” (the little teachers). One afternoon, they came to my house to plan our program. They proposed the activities and the rules (such as we must not teach the kids bad things, we must like kids, etc) and created the schedule for the first two meetings with the kids. Their excitement was apparent as they jostled each other to propose ideas and write on the board and the “official notebook”.
They chose the name “Ecole des Enfants d’Amsia”-the School of the Kids of Amsia. I especially like the translation in Fulfulde when contrasted to the Fulfulde word for student which translates to “kids of the school.” Here we are trying to build a type of informal school that fits the kids’ needs. The kids have ownership of our “school” rather than the other way around.
On the day of our first meeting, the 10 students ran around the village rounding up kids, who came skipping and running to the tree where we were starting our class. The students explained the idea of our program and asked who wanted to be there. 30 little hands shot into the air. We had a couple kids hanging out of the tree and parents stopped by to watch and hopefully start to develop a clearer idea of what their kids do in the school building during the day.
Under our tree, our activities kicked off with two girls reading a story book in French and translating into Fulfulde while a third engaged kids with the images. The students were brilliant at adapting to on the ground challenges. Kids were getting bored, so they made the story more interactive. Little kids were in the back, so they were picked up and plopped in the front where they could see. Fighting kids were separated. Then we broke into small groups so that the students could work with the kids on learning numbers and letters and encouraging them to write and draw.
I would have been proud of these kids had then been American students who were frequently asked to think critically and creatively. Highly impressed had they been Ouagalais, kids from the capital. But I was blown away that my village kids who are generally only asked to memorize, repeat and follow instructions were brilliant, creative problem solvers when faced with real life situations. If you want to see photos check out my flickr account
Some of the other projects on the drawing board and in the works
So you don’t think I’m just “bouffing” your tax money sitting around drinking tea and learning Fulfulde, I’ve outlined a couple other education projects below. I, the girl who can’t even grow tomatoes on her DC balcony, have somehow gotten involved in a few agro-projects as well…but I’ll save those for another day. If you have ideas, questions, resource suggestions, I’d love to hear them all.
Scholarship Program- Thanks to For Granted, an organization founded by a former Peace Corps Volunteer, we have started a scholarship program to pay for lodging and meals for students who attend the middle school in Bani, but come from far away villages. www.forgranted.org
Library- we are working on creating a library and a system to get books into the smaller surrounding villages as well. The community has donated a building and will be fixing it up, but does not have the funds to buy books. We have begun searching for start up funds and have a couple ideas, but if you have any suggestions, they are always appreciated!
Revolving Fund to Support Schools-the US embassy gave us about $1000 worth of pagnes, brightly printed fabric depicting “Burkina-US Friendship.” (Pagnes are bought and brought to tailors with instructions to make custom designed clothes) We are going to sell the pagnes and use the money to start an interest-free revolving fund for the Mothers of Students associations in the district to start small income generating projects to support the schools.
Massive Moringa Planting-we are organizing an Earth Day moringa tree planting in at least 20 of the 33 schools in the district. Moringa leaves are incredibly high in vitamins, minerals, protein, etc. The leaves will be added to school lunches of couscous and beans to supplement students’ nutrition
My village kids have amazing untapped potential! We decided to try an informal preschool/tutoring program that would be fun and interactive with the goals of fostering an interest in reading and writing and of teaching some basic French to kids before they begin school. Our target audience is kids that are in their first or second year of school, or haven’t yet started.
The 5th/6h grade teacher selected 10 of the strongest and most dynamic readers in his class to be “les petits maîtres” (the little teachers). One afternoon, they came to my house to plan our program. They proposed the activities and the rules (such as we must not teach the kids bad things, we must like kids, etc) and created the schedule for the first two meetings with the kids. Their excitement was apparent as they jostled each other to propose ideas and write on the board and the “official notebook”.
They chose the name “Ecole des Enfants d’Amsia”-the School of the Kids of Amsia. I especially like the translation in Fulfulde when contrasted to the Fulfulde word for student which translates to “kids of the school.” Here we are trying to build a type of informal school that fits the kids’ needs. The kids have ownership of our “school” rather than the other way around.
On the day of our first meeting, the 10 students ran around the village rounding up kids, who came skipping and running to the tree where we were starting our class. The students explained the idea of our program and asked who wanted to be there. 30 little hands shot into the air. We had a couple kids hanging out of the tree and parents stopped by to watch and hopefully start to develop a clearer idea of what their kids do in the school building during the day.
Under our tree, our activities kicked off with two girls reading a story book in French and translating into Fulfulde while a third engaged kids with the images. The students were brilliant at adapting to on the ground challenges. Kids were getting bored, so they made the story more interactive. Little kids were in the back, so they were picked up and plopped in the front where they could see. Fighting kids were separated. Then we broke into small groups so that the students could work with the kids on learning numbers and letters and encouraging them to write and draw.
I would have been proud of these kids had then been American students who were frequently asked to think critically and creatively. Highly impressed had they been Ouagalais, kids from the capital. But I was blown away that my village kids who are generally only asked to memorize, repeat and follow instructions were brilliant, creative problem solvers when faced with real life situations. If you want to see photos check out my flickr account
Some of the other projects on the drawing board and in the works
So you don’t think I’m just “bouffing” your tax money sitting around drinking tea and learning Fulfulde, I’ve outlined a couple other education projects below. I, the girl who can’t even grow tomatoes on her DC balcony, have somehow gotten involved in a few agro-projects as well…but I’ll save those for another day. If you have ideas, questions, resource suggestions, I’d love to hear them all.
Scholarship Program- Thanks to For Granted, an organization founded by a former Peace Corps Volunteer, we have started a scholarship program to pay for lodging and meals for students who attend the middle school in Bani, but come from far away villages. www.forgranted.org
Library- we are working on creating a library and a system to get books into the smaller surrounding villages as well. The community has donated a building and will be fixing it up, but does not have the funds to buy books. We have begun searching for start up funds and have a couple ideas, but if you have any suggestions, they are always appreciated!
Revolving Fund to Support Schools-the US embassy gave us about $1000 worth of pagnes, brightly printed fabric depicting “Burkina-US Friendship.” (Pagnes are bought and brought to tailors with instructions to make custom designed clothes) We are going to sell the pagnes and use the money to start an interest-free revolving fund for the Mothers of Students associations in the district to start small income generating projects to support the schools.
Massive Moringa Planting-we are organizing an Earth Day moringa tree planting in at least 20 of the 33 schools in the district. Moringa leaves are incredibly high in vitamins, minerals, protein, etc. The leaves will be added to school lunches of couscous and beans to supplement students’ nutrition
Learning Curves
The beginning
Ok, so I never really thought it would be easy to convince tiny traditional, semi-nomadic rural communities that education is important; however, I think deep down I was arrogant enough to hang on to a slight hope that if I really got to know people (and was liked and trusted by my village) I would find a magic touch and it wouldn’t actually be that difficult.
Before arriving at my site, I was most worried about the first 3 months in village, the so called “Etude de Mileu” During this period new PC Volunteers are supposed to minimize travel and spend almost all their time in village in order to get to know people and learn how things work. Let’s just say I lost more than a little sleep over the thought of being the only foreigner in a tiny village where history is told in terms of residents’ ancestors.
I was very pleased to find that the first three months actually went really well. As the only White in the village, I quickly became the local celebrity (nothing special, so did all my PC friends in their own villages). Honestly, in villages it’s hard to find someone who doesn’t want a white friend (or an American wife for that matter), so greeting people in their first language, holding their 7 day old babies during baptisms (and not exclaiming when the baby pees on me) and drinking tea with people goes a long way.
About halfway through the “Etude” Period, I started getting antsy. I had been in BF many months and had learnt a lot, but hadn’t done much.
What I’ve learned thus far
(This is generalized and of course there are rare exceptions…but they are hard to find) In many ways education is viewed to be connected with the school building and not with life. The majority of people don’t view school as a way to improve life. Why?
Well, most parents never went to school and don’t understand it, thus don’t see why education is important and don’t encourage their kids to try or study (and in many cases, don’t send all their kids to school in the first place). In many cases, attendance, continuation and success depends on the individual child’s motivation to come to school and work hard. Unfortunately, almost all schools are taught in French, and village kids generally don’t hear French before they arrive at school. So kids, who days before had only spent their time running around barefoot (and probably at least half naked) are expected to spend 7 hours a day sitting on benches “learning” in a language they don’t speak. You see the problem. (In stark contrast to most theoretical French language schools that depend on rote memorization, there is a “non-formal education” school that is practical, interactive and taught in Fulfulde. When observing, I didn’t understand much of what was said, but I’ve never felt more at home in Burkinabe classrooms. Unfortunately these schools are few and far between and are seen as a last resort for kids who didn’t attend the regular school.)
For girls, add extensive household chores required for family survival and early and forced marriages to the lack of parental support and it is no surprise that most girls don’t make it to 5th grade.
These factors, compounded by many others, result in obstacles so great that so few students succeed (boys or girls). In my village in particular no one has passed the test to complete junior high (the minimum requirement for formal employment) and no one has used their education to dramatically improve their life. We have no local role models, thus the word on the cowpath isn’t “Sambo has a new moto because his son went to school and now has a job and helps the family”, but often is “Hama’s son went to school for a few years and now is scraping by selling meat in Ouaga with my son who never set foot in a school building.” With the exception of Bani (the central and administrative village in the department), which has slightly better success rates, this scenario reflects the situation in most (I’m afraid to say all) villages in the department, if not the region.
An additional factor is that in most tiny villages there is nothing to read in French or Fulfulde other than school books. With nothing to read, literacy seems unimportant (again connected to school and not life), people can’t practice and improve their reading abilities, and reading for fun seems unimaginable.
Furthermore, much of life is unreliable and depends on external factors. Will it rain enough so that I can harvest enough millet to sufficiently feed my family? Will the government send enough notebooks for schools as promised, so I don’t need to buy them for my kids? Will the World Food Programme send enough food so my kids who I do send to school can eat lunch there everyday? In Amsia, the answer to all of these questions was NO this year. This results in feelings of lack of control, lack of agency in one’s own life.
So now let’s look at financial restraints. In my village, families could easily spend 162 000 cfa (about $324USD) to put a child through school until the end of junior high. However, this estimate is based on the unrealistic assumptions hat the student will never repeat a grade, only needs to purchase a new junior high uniform every other year, and already has a bike to pedal the 5km to the junior high. Most men have at least 2 wives, with at least 5 kids each. I guess you could say there are financial restraints to sending all the kids to school.
When so much seems undependable, the benefits of education seem abstract and unattainable, but the opportunity costs so tangible (loss of labor to tend animals, fetch water and wood, etc) it is no surprise so few parents are willing to make the minimum $324 and 10 year investment required per child to complete junior high and potentially get a job.
Ok, so I never really thought it would be easy to convince tiny traditional, semi-nomadic rural communities that education is important; however, I think deep down I was arrogant enough to hang on to a slight hope that if I really got to know people (and was liked and trusted by my village) I would find a magic touch and it wouldn’t actually be that difficult.
Before arriving at my site, I was most worried about the first 3 months in village, the so called “Etude de Mileu” During this period new PC Volunteers are supposed to minimize travel and spend almost all their time in village in order to get to know people and learn how things work. Let’s just say I lost more than a little sleep over the thought of being the only foreigner in a tiny village where history is told in terms of residents’ ancestors.
I was very pleased to find that the first three months actually went really well. As the only White in the village, I quickly became the local celebrity (nothing special, so did all my PC friends in their own villages). Honestly, in villages it’s hard to find someone who doesn’t want a white friend (or an American wife for that matter), so greeting people in their first language, holding their 7 day old babies during baptisms (and not exclaiming when the baby pees on me) and drinking tea with people goes a long way.
About halfway through the “Etude” Period, I started getting antsy. I had been in BF many months and had learnt a lot, but hadn’t done much.
What I’ve learned thus far
(This is generalized and of course there are rare exceptions…but they are hard to find) In many ways education is viewed to be connected with the school building and not with life. The majority of people don’t view school as a way to improve life. Why?
Well, most parents never went to school and don’t understand it, thus don’t see why education is important and don’t encourage their kids to try or study (and in many cases, don’t send all their kids to school in the first place). In many cases, attendance, continuation and success depends on the individual child’s motivation to come to school and work hard. Unfortunately, almost all schools are taught in French, and village kids generally don’t hear French before they arrive at school. So kids, who days before had only spent their time running around barefoot (and probably at least half naked) are expected to spend 7 hours a day sitting on benches “learning” in a language they don’t speak. You see the problem. (In stark contrast to most theoretical French language schools that depend on rote memorization, there is a “non-formal education” school that is practical, interactive and taught in Fulfulde. When observing, I didn’t understand much of what was said, but I’ve never felt more at home in Burkinabe classrooms. Unfortunately these schools are few and far between and are seen as a last resort for kids who didn’t attend the regular school.)
For girls, add extensive household chores required for family survival and early and forced marriages to the lack of parental support and it is no surprise that most girls don’t make it to 5th grade.
These factors, compounded by many others, result in obstacles so great that so few students succeed (boys or girls). In my village in particular no one has passed the test to complete junior high (the minimum requirement for formal employment) and no one has used their education to dramatically improve their life. We have no local role models, thus the word on the cowpath isn’t “Sambo has a new moto because his son went to school and now has a job and helps the family”, but often is “Hama’s son went to school for a few years and now is scraping by selling meat in Ouaga with my son who never set foot in a school building.” With the exception of Bani (the central and administrative village in the department), which has slightly better success rates, this scenario reflects the situation in most (I’m afraid to say all) villages in the department, if not the region.
An additional factor is that in most tiny villages there is nothing to read in French or Fulfulde other than school books. With nothing to read, literacy seems unimportant (again connected to school and not life), people can’t practice and improve their reading abilities, and reading for fun seems unimaginable.
Furthermore, much of life is unreliable and depends on external factors. Will it rain enough so that I can harvest enough millet to sufficiently feed my family? Will the government send enough notebooks for schools as promised, so I don’t need to buy them for my kids? Will the World Food Programme send enough food so my kids who I do send to school can eat lunch there everyday? In Amsia, the answer to all of these questions was NO this year. This results in feelings of lack of control, lack of agency in one’s own life.
So now let’s look at financial restraints. In my village, families could easily spend 162 000 cfa (about $324USD) to put a child through school until the end of junior high. However, this estimate is based on the unrealistic assumptions hat the student will never repeat a grade, only needs to purchase a new junior high uniform every other year, and already has a bike to pedal the 5km to the junior high. Most men have at least 2 wives, with at least 5 kids each. I guess you could say there are financial restraints to sending all the kids to school.
When so much seems undependable, the benefits of education seem abstract and unattainable, but the opportunity costs so tangible (loss of labor to tend animals, fetch water and wood, etc) it is no surprise so few parents are willing to make the minimum $324 and 10 year investment required per child to complete junior high and potentially get a job.
Friday, December 5, 2008
What an Obama Victory Means in One Tiny Fulani Village
To say that my village supports Barack Obama is an understatement. The night of the election, we held a party in an open area between the village mosque and the blacksmith's house. The blacksmith has a TV and I was gifted a small solar panel, so we tried to show election coverage (without any luck due to the time difference) to the many people who had gathered. At one point, I briefly told the story of Barack Obama's family. Grandfather was a Kenyan herder (Cattle are incredibly important to the Fulani ethnic group who are mainly herders), father grew up in Kenya, went to school and studied hard, and now Barack is (at that time) a candidate to be the next President of the United States.
I had cut out pictures of Obama, Biden, McCain and Palin and pasted on a piece of paper to show who was running. Most had heard of this Obama guy, heard that he was possibly "a balejo" (a black man) but had never seen a photo. Luckily the Newsweek I had contained photos of his father, mother and other family members and really helped my story. (Look for pictures on my flickr account in the coming weeks)
We had a mock election and people voted by making a tear on their ballot next to the stick figures of 2 men or a man and a woman. Obama won 57-0. Not surprising considering 1. Obama's family comes from a herding ethnic group. 2. the only Americans they know (me and previous volunteer) support Obama 3. McCain's running mate is a woman (Someone asked me if she really would be able to be the VP)
The next morning when I pranced around the village sharing results, the reactions were priceless. Everyone was thrilled that "a balejo" would be the next president of the US, but for some it went far beyond that. Multiple people clasped their hands to their mouth, grinning somewhat bashfully, their eyes sparkling with possibility; overjoyed and not sure how to react to the news that the grandson of African herders was gong to be the next President of the US. For some, this seemed to signify that for them to, the world may have an opportunity, not to be an American president, but maybe a teacher, a nurse, or a policeman.
I have no idea of the long term effects, but for now I'm trying to jump through the open door and promote education anytime someone wants to see my now tattered Newsweek with pictures of Barack Obama.
I would love to get a hold of Obama stickers, pens, or small items to give as incentives to the kids in my school for working hard. If you have any left over campaign stuff you are trying to get rid of, let me know and we can figure out how to get it to Burkina.
I had cut out pictures of Obama, Biden, McCain and Palin and pasted on a piece of paper to show who was running. Most had heard of this Obama guy, heard that he was possibly "a balejo" (a black man) but had never seen a photo. Luckily the Newsweek I had contained photos of his father, mother and other family members and really helped my story. (Look for pictures on my flickr account in the coming weeks)
We had a mock election and people voted by making a tear on their ballot next to the stick figures of 2 men or a man and a woman. Obama won 57-0. Not surprising considering 1. Obama's family comes from a herding ethnic group. 2. the only Americans they know (me and previous volunteer) support Obama 3. McCain's running mate is a woman (Someone asked me if she really would be able to be the VP)
The next morning when I pranced around the village sharing results, the reactions were priceless. Everyone was thrilled that "a balejo" would be the next president of the US, but for some it went far beyond that. Multiple people clasped their hands to their mouth, grinning somewhat bashfully, their eyes sparkling with possibility; overjoyed and not sure how to react to the news that the grandson of African herders was gong to be the next President of the US. For some, this seemed to signify that for them to, the world may have an opportunity, not to be an American president, but maybe a teacher, a nurse, or a policeman.
I have no idea of the long term effects, but for now I'm trying to jump through the open door and promote education anytime someone wants to see my now tattered Newsweek with pictures of Barack Obama.
I would love to get a hold of Obama stickers, pens, or small items to give as incentives to the kids in my school for working hard. If you have any left over campaign stuff you are trying to get rid of, let me know and we can figure out how to get it to Burkina.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Collective Survival
In Burkina I live with the Fulani, a previously nomadic (and currently semi-nomadic) ethnic group that is scattered across West and Central Africa. In my village there are "vrai Peulh" (real Fulani) and the "machube"-the descendants of those captured and enslaved by the Fulani. The machube originate from a variety of ethnic groups but have abandoned their languages and cultures and have assimilated into Fulani communities. They generally eat the same foods as Fulani.
CUISINE
Fulani mainly obtain food by cultivating (corn, millet, sorghum, beans) raising animals (cows, goats, sheep, chickens and guinea fowl-an awkward looking bird that makes an obnoxious noise like a squeaking wheel). They also gather wild fruits (grapes, tamarinds, and others) and leaves for sauce. From time to time they hunt small birds to supplement their diets-I've even seen kids hunt mice.
The main staple of most groups in Burkina is to, a stiff porridge made of millet or corn flour. Everyone sitting around the bowl and tears of hunks of to and dips it in a sauce most frequently made of okra or baobab leaves (the okra sauce is really slimy, but is unfortunately for me very popular). Beans and rice are eaten as well, but many Fulani prefer to sell the beans they harvest. In my village Fulani eat to because it is prevalent in the region, but I assume that Fulani in other countries have different diets based on foods readily available there.
Unlike in the US, everything truly has a season-good luck getting mangoes, watermelons, etc outside their season; outside Ouaga even milk and eggs are only available during the rainy season
The Fulani are herders, but rarely eat meat other than on holidays. Fulani take great pride in their animals- especially their cows, which they hate to sell. often families have hundreds of goats and sheep, which act like insurance; they are only sold when necessary, such as when the family has run out of millet, or someone is really sick (selling a goat to buy school supplies is often not seen as an expense worthy of selling a goat). I sense that culturally there is pride in being able to keep many beings alive, despite the harsh landscape, thus big herds and families are prestigious.
FOOD RELATED RESPONSIBILITIES
Daily responsibilities for the majority of people revolve around food production and preparation. These responsibilities are very segregated by gender.
Socially, men have the responsibility to provide food for the family and meet there other basic needs. women have their own fields, (but still work in their husbands fields) and in theory can sell their crops and spend their money as desired.
MEN- during the rainy season (June-Sept) men work in the fields to break up the earth, plant seeds, remove weeds, and eventually harvest in October. When necessary men are responsible for building graneries to store millet throughout the year.
WOMEN- women also work in the fields, but have the added daily responsibilities of preparing food. They collect wood, pump water, cop and dry veggies and leaves, pound and sift millet, as well as cook food and wash dishes.
watching African women pound millet is really impressive. frequently they will pound the millet rhythmically, with 2 or 3 women pounding in a sngle mortar. sometimes they sing, cluck, or throw the pestle above their heads and clap before catching it-all without missing a beat! Women are almost always working, so social time and work are often combined.
Herding is a major responsibility of youth and men. kids as young as 6 will take goats out to the buh to eat grass and spend the entire day out in the sun. By age 8 many move on to herding cattle. (Unfortunately, cultural importance placed on herding conflicts with education and the current public school system)
I've only lived in BF during cultivating months, so I' not quite sure what men do the rest of the year. Women, on the the other hand, have daily household responsibilities that vary less seasonly.
CULTURE OF FOOD
In Burkina, there is a collective responsibility for everyone's survival. If you have extra, you give food to your neighbors; if you don't have enough, you ask. It is incredibly impolite to eat without offering to share with those around you (even strangers on the bus!) Most people in Burkina don't have enough to eat, so it is expected that food will be shared so everyone can (hopefully) survive.
For most families in my village, there is only enough food to eat twice a day, so lunch is frequently skipped. Men drink lots of tea throughout the day, they say to keep away hunger.
When preparing meals, women prepare a lot, but not for a certain number of people, because you never know who will stop by for dinner.
Meals are eaten with the right hand-the left is used to clean yourself after going to the bathroom) from a communal bowl shared with your peer group (men, women, kids). Once you have eaten enough, you turn away from the bowl to indicate you are finished eating.Whatever food remains is eaten the next day, including remains that can be scraped from the bottom of the pot and dried. One of my favorite Fulani foods is bits of dried to mixed with day old milk and sugar. sounds odd, but is tasty!
CUISINE
Fulani mainly obtain food by cultivating (corn, millet, sorghum, beans) raising animals (cows, goats, sheep, chickens and guinea fowl-an awkward looking bird that makes an obnoxious noise like a squeaking wheel). They also gather wild fruits (grapes, tamarinds, and others) and leaves for sauce. From time to time they hunt small birds to supplement their diets-I've even seen kids hunt mice.
The main staple of most groups in Burkina is to, a stiff porridge made of millet or corn flour. Everyone sitting around the bowl and tears of hunks of to and dips it in a sauce most frequently made of okra or baobab leaves (the okra sauce is really slimy, but is unfortunately for me very popular). Beans and rice are eaten as well, but many Fulani prefer to sell the beans they harvest. In my village Fulani eat to because it is prevalent in the region, but I assume that Fulani in other countries have different diets based on foods readily available there.
Unlike in the US, everything truly has a season-good luck getting mangoes, watermelons, etc outside their season; outside Ouaga even milk and eggs are only available during the rainy season
The Fulani are herders, but rarely eat meat other than on holidays. Fulani take great pride in their animals- especially their cows, which they hate to sell. often families have hundreds of goats and sheep, which act like insurance; they are only sold when necessary, such as when the family has run out of millet, or someone is really sick (selling a goat to buy school supplies is often not seen as an expense worthy of selling a goat). I sense that culturally there is pride in being able to keep many beings alive, despite the harsh landscape, thus big herds and families are prestigious.
FOOD RELATED RESPONSIBILITIES
Daily responsibilities for the majority of people revolve around food production and preparation. These responsibilities are very segregated by gender.
Socially, men have the responsibility to provide food for the family and meet there other basic needs. women have their own fields, (but still work in their husbands fields) and in theory can sell their crops and spend their money as desired.
MEN- during the rainy season (June-Sept) men work in the fields to break up the earth, plant seeds, remove weeds, and eventually harvest in October. When necessary men are responsible for building graneries to store millet throughout the year.
WOMEN- women also work in the fields, but have the added daily responsibilities of preparing food. They collect wood, pump water, cop and dry veggies and leaves, pound and sift millet, as well as cook food and wash dishes.
watching African women pound millet is really impressive. frequently they will pound the millet rhythmically, with 2 or 3 women pounding in a sngle mortar. sometimes they sing, cluck, or throw the pestle above their heads and clap before catching it-all without missing a beat! Women are almost always working, so social time and work are often combined.
Herding is a major responsibility of youth and men. kids as young as 6 will take goats out to the buh to eat grass and spend the entire day out in the sun. By age 8 many move on to herding cattle. (Unfortunately, cultural importance placed on herding conflicts with education and the current public school system)
I've only lived in BF during cultivating months, so I' not quite sure what men do the rest of the year. Women, on the the other hand, have daily household responsibilities that vary less seasonly.
CULTURE OF FOOD
In Burkina, there is a collective responsibility for everyone's survival. If you have extra, you give food to your neighbors; if you don't have enough, you ask. It is incredibly impolite to eat without offering to share with those around you (even strangers on the bus!) Most people in Burkina don't have enough to eat, so it is expected that food will be shared so everyone can (hopefully) survive.
For most families in my village, there is only enough food to eat twice a day, so lunch is frequently skipped. Men drink lots of tea throughout the day, they say to keep away hunger.
When preparing meals, women prepare a lot, but not for a certain number of people, because you never know who will stop by for dinner.
Meals are eaten with the right hand-the left is used to clean yourself after going to the bathroom) from a communal bowl shared with your peer group (men, women, kids). Once you have eaten enough, you turn away from the bowl to indicate you are finished eating.Whatever food remains is eaten the next day, including remains that can be scraped from the bottom of the pot and dried. One of my favorite Fulani foods is bits of dried to mixed with day old milk and sugar. sounds odd, but is tasty!
Monday, August 25, 2008
End of Training!
Hi Everyone!
I hope you are all well in the states. Things in Burkina are going very well.
Thanks for everyone who posted an entry to the "Create my Fake Husband" Contest. You can all vote for your favorite entry on my blog kaitlynbrown.blogspot.com the poll is on the side and you can read the entries in more detail by looking at the comments posted on the "Create My Fake Husband" post. The winner will receive a great prize!
This morning I moved out of my host family's compound and tomorrow, I will go to Ouaga (the capital) for a few more days of training and "official business" before we swear in at the ambassadors' home on Friday.
Last night I made my host family an "American dinner" of pasta and homemade tomato/eggplant sauce. it was pretty delicious if I do say so myself. My host father killed a chicken for us to eat, which I took to be a huge honor (the only other time he has slaughtered an animal for our meal was when a previous host daughter came to visit)
This morning I toured the village to say my goodbyes and many people (semi) jokingly offered to give me their children to keep me company. I was tempted to take a couple of them up on the offer-some of my favorite kids were offered to me! For others, I was very glad for the "sorry I cant breastfeed your baby, he/she will starve" response. Everyone laughs and I dont end up taking a baby home.
In other exciting news, I tested at "intermediate low" on my Fulfulde language test (this is the 4th level from the bottom on the Peace Corps language scale). I was very pleased with that level after only 2 1/2 months! This is especially good news because the level of French spoken in my new village is not very high. However the downside to this is that I currently spend my days speaking franglais or franfulde and don't speak any language correctly.
I will be going to my site early next week, and I'm a little apprehensive! especially since we have travel restrictions for the first 3 months so that we can "integrate in to the community." I'm hoping next month I can get special "I don't want to turn 25 celebrating alone in the middle of the bush because my village is fasting for Ramadan and cannot party" leave permission or something like that.
I hope you are all well in the states. Things in Burkina are going very well.
Thanks for everyone who posted an entry to the "Create my Fake Husband" Contest. You can all vote for your favorite entry on my blog kaitlynbrown.blogspot.com the poll is on the side and you can read the entries in more detail by looking at the comments posted on the "Create My Fake Husband" post. The winner will receive a great prize!
This morning I moved out of my host family's compound and tomorrow, I will go to Ouaga (the capital) for a few more days of training and "official business" before we swear in at the ambassadors' home on Friday.
Last night I made my host family an "American dinner" of pasta and homemade tomato/eggplant sauce. it was pretty delicious if I do say so myself. My host father killed a chicken for us to eat, which I took to be a huge honor (the only other time he has slaughtered an animal for our meal was when a previous host daughter came to visit)
This morning I toured the village to say my goodbyes and many people (semi) jokingly offered to give me their children to keep me company. I was tempted to take a couple of them up on the offer-some of my favorite kids were offered to me! For others, I was very glad for the "sorry I cant breastfeed your baby, he/she will starve" response. Everyone laughs and I dont end up taking a baby home.
In other exciting news, I tested at "intermediate low" on my Fulfulde language test (this is the 4th level from the bottom on the Peace Corps language scale). I was very pleased with that level after only 2 1/2 months! This is especially good news because the level of French spoken in my new village is not very high. However the downside to this is that I currently spend my days speaking franglais or franfulde and don't speak any language correctly.
I will be going to my site early next week, and I'm a little apprehensive! especially since we have travel restrictions for the first 3 months so that we can "integrate in to the community." I'm hoping next month I can get special "I don't want to turn 25 celebrating alone in the middle of the bush because my village is fasting for Ramadan and cannot party" leave permission or something like that.
Monday, July 14, 2008
A day in the life of DIALLO Amsatou
Before the end of the village adoption ceremony, we were given local names. The decision to name us occurred in Moore, so it took me a minute to figure out what was going on when a crowd started to gather around me cheering DIALLO Amsatou in my face. In Burkina, people generally identify themselves by their family name first and then their first name. Family names indicate ethnicity, language, and to some extent family relationships (however, there are many many DIALLO Mamadous (my host father's name). I thoroughly enjoy the reactions I get when I introduce myself with the Burkina name. Generally people break out in huge grins and joyfully shake my hand, shocked that a white girl is introducing herself in their language. The pleasant surprises on the faces of others when I speak their language is the biggest motivator to improve my language skills faster.
anyways, here is a glimpse of my life during training J
5:00 AM
I start to wake up to the soothing sound of prayers and readings from the Koran accompanied by the piercing cries of the roosters (ps. It is a myth that roosters only cry at sun rise… at my house they cry throughout the night) and the obnoxious bleeting of the goats. I peer out of my mosquito net tent and look at the goats through my thatched porch. I pretend to ignore the animals and try to sleep a bit longer before someone wakes me up to get ready for the day
6:00AM
Someone from my host family decides I have slept too late for their liking and wakes me up. Generally it's Mariam, my 14 year old host sister. I don't really blame her, most of the family, especially the women have been up working for an hour or more. I pour a couple gallons of water into a bucket and go to the mud-walled shower to bathe. As I pour cups of water over myself, I look over the wall, down the hill and across the horizon at the trees and large hills in the horizon. It's a beautiful, inspiring view to see every morning. Many days it still seems surreal that I am living in a village in West Africa, yet at the same time, my life in the states feels so far away.
I drink Nescafe and eat semi-stale bread, get dressed and pack my stuff for my bike ride. I walk around my compound and attempt to greet everyone in Fulfulde. There is a whole series of greetings and questions and generally a "Jamm Ni, et an le? (only peace, and you?) will get me through the conversation when I'm completely lost
700AM
I strap on my helmet and bike to my friend Liz's house for our 10k bike ride to a neighboring village or into Ouahigouya for class. About once a week everyone comes to our village. We bike past hordes of kids screaming "nasara" "le blanc" (white person). The little kids are so cute and thrilled to see the odd white curiosity pass them on the street. The shouts from the older kids are not generally as nice, but when the little kids scream nasara as I pass by, I feel as if they are cheering me on as I bike in the Tour du Faso (the Burkina equivalent of the Tour de France). Towards the end of the ride to class, I truly need that encouragement.
8:00AM
We begin 8 hours of classes with up to six of those hours being intense study of Fulfulde. Other classes are health related, security related, technical training, and general courses on how to live in Burkina. The Peace Corps staff are pretty punctual, but outside PC, Burkina runs on West African International Time (aka WAIT, which is eerily similar to KAIT J…I apologize in advance, I'm sure I will be even less punctual once I return to the states than I am now.
Many days I feel like a sponge that is full of info and can't absorb any more knowledge. This is especially true on days where we have many language sessions. I love to learn, but I forgot how tiring it can be to sit in class for 8 hours a day. In general I'm very impressed with the Peace Corps staff. They are among the coolest, brightest, hardest working Burkinabes. I learn a lot from them and enjoy chatting in between or after class.
The classes in village occur in the primary school, but when they are held in Komsilga (where I live) I lobby to hold them in the mango grove. The shadiest spot (and therefore coolest) in Special K as it is affectionately known is under the mango trees. It is generally about 10-15 degrees cooler (however you have to battle biting ants…some days you will do almost anything for a cool breeze)
5:15PM
I meet up with Liz and we ride back to our village, often chatting to briefly greet the village chief (or Naba) on the way. I arrive home, greet my host family by walking to each hut and shaking hands individually and asking about the day, their health, the sheep, etc.
I try to play with the babies for a bit as they are my biggest stress reliever. The younger one, Souleymane, is 8 months old and is the only baby in Burkina who has never feared the strange white person. He is such a happy baby and giggles, grins, and lets me put him on my back. Belko is the other baby, he is about 1.5-2 years. Initially he was a little scared of me, but he has adjusted. Our favorite game is chase, I start scurrying up behind him and say "mi na wara" which means I am coming and he runs away grinning. After a while, he will become bored and resort back to his favorite past time: picking up sticks and hitting the animals. I guess he is practicing to be a herder already.
I try to squeeze in a bucket bath before it becomes dark at 7:00PM and then lounge on the mat and look at the stars and chat with Mariam my host sister until dinner is ready. I eat with the women around the bowl of to (millet porridge--think cream of wheat that has been left out too long) and slimy sauce. After I eat to for a few minutes everyone grins and gives me the meal they have prepared for me (noodles, rice, or potatoes with oil)
830PM
If I'm feeling up for it, I'll go hang out with the young men studying the Koran and someone will generally start making tea (this whole process takes about 2-3 hours for th 3 rounds of tea). Other nights Mariam's friends come over and quiz me on Fulfulde, try to learn English, or just want to talk. Oddly enough, in my compound, I interact with more women in French than men. From what I hear, Peuhls place less emphasis on education and men are definitely more privileged than women. I was very surprised that in my compound more of the girls have gone to school than the boys (who generally grew up in the fields with the animals). I have no how this compares with the rest of Burkina. When I sit with the young men, I try to speak Fulfulde and my contributions to the conversation generally go like " stars many, stars good" "I have 2 brothers. One is Adam. One is Aric." my attempts are rewarded with new vocab words. The nights I don't sit up for tea I usually go to bed by 9 (it has been dark for 2 hours at this point)
Mariam helps me set up my mosquito net tent so I can sleep outside where it is cooler and I go to sleep to the sound of Koranic readings, rowdy sheep, or scratchy Hindi songs on the radio..
anyways, here is a glimpse of my life during training J
5:00 AM
I start to wake up to the soothing sound of prayers and readings from the Koran accompanied by the piercing cries of the roosters (ps. It is a myth that roosters only cry at sun rise… at my house they cry throughout the night) and the obnoxious bleeting of the goats. I peer out of my mosquito net tent and look at the goats through my thatched porch. I pretend to ignore the animals and try to sleep a bit longer before someone wakes me up to get ready for the day
6:00AM
Someone from my host family decides I have slept too late for their liking and wakes me up. Generally it's Mariam, my 14 year old host sister. I don't really blame her, most of the family, especially the women have been up working for an hour or more. I pour a couple gallons of water into a bucket and go to the mud-walled shower to bathe. As I pour cups of water over myself, I look over the wall, down the hill and across the horizon at the trees and large hills in the horizon. It's a beautiful, inspiring view to see every morning. Many days it still seems surreal that I am living in a village in West Africa, yet at the same time, my life in the states feels so far away.
I drink Nescafe and eat semi-stale bread, get dressed and pack my stuff for my bike ride. I walk around my compound and attempt to greet everyone in Fulfulde. There is a whole series of greetings and questions and generally a "Jamm Ni, et an le? (only peace, and you?) will get me through the conversation when I'm completely lost
700AM
I strap on my helmet and bike to my friend Liz's house for our 10k bike ride to a neighboring village or into Ouahigouya for class. About once a week everyone comes to our village. We bike past hordes of kids screaming "nasara" "le blanc" (white person). The little kids are so cute and thrilled to see the odd white curiosity pass them on the street. The shouts from the older kids are not generally as nice, but when the little kids scream nasara as I pass by, I feel as if they are cheering me on as I bike in the Tour du Faso (the Burkina equivalent of the Tour de France). Towards the end of the ride to class, I truly need that encouragement.
8:00AM
We begin 8 hours of classes with up to six of those hours being intense study of Fulfulde. Other classes are health related, security related, technical training, and general courses on how to live in Burkina. The Peace Corps staff are pretty punctual, but outside PC, Burkina runs on West African International Time (aka WAIT, which is eerily similar to KAIT J…I apologize in advance, I'm sure I will be even less punctual once I return to the states than I am now.
Many days I feel like a sponge that is full of info and can't absorb any more knowledge. This is especially true on days where we have many language sessions. I love to learn, but I forgot how tiring it can be to sit in class for 8 hours a day. In general I'm very impressed with the Peace Corps staff. They are among the coolest, brightest, hardest working Burkinabes. I learn a lot from them and enjoy chatting in between or after class.
The classes in village occur in the primary school, but when they are held in Komsilga (where I live) I lobby to hold them in the mango grove. The shadiest spot (and therefore coolest) in Special K as it is affectionately known is under the mango trees. It is generally about 10-15 degrees cooler (however you have to battle biting ants…some days you will do almost anything for a cool breeze)
5:15PM
I meet up with Liz and we ride back to our village, often chatting to briefly greet the village chief (or Naba) on the way. I arrive home, greet my host family by walking to each hut and shaking hands individually and asking about the day, their health, the sheep, etc.
I try to play with the babies for a bit as they are my biggest stress reliever. The younger one, Souleymane, is 8 months old and is the only baby in Burkina who has never feared the strange white person. He is such a happy baby and giggles, grins, and lets me put him on my back. Belko is the other baby, he is about 1.5-2 years. Initially he was a little scared of me, but he has adjusted. Our favorite game is chase, I start scurrying up behind him and say "mi na wara" which means I am coming and he runs away grinning. After a while, he will become bored and resort back to his favorite past time: picking up sticks and hitting the animals. I guess he is practicing to be a herder already.
I try to squeeze in a bucket bath before it becomes dark at 7:00PM and then lounge on the mat and look at the stars and chat with Mariam my host sister until dinner is ready. I eat with the women around the bowl of to (millet porridge--think cream of wheat that has been left out too long) and slimy sauce. After I eat to for a few minutes everyone grins and gives me the meal they have prepared for me (noodles, rice, or potatoes with oil)
830PM
If I'm feeling up for it, I'll go hang out with the young men studying the Koran and someone will generally start making tea (this whole process takes about 2-3 hours for th 3 rounds of tea). Other nights Mariam's friends come over and quiz me on Fulfulde, try to learn English, or just want to talk. Oddly enough, in my compound, I interact with more women in French than men. From what I hear, Peuhls place less emphasis on education and men are definitely more privileged than women. I was very surprised that in my compound more of the girls have gone to school than the boys (who generally grew up in the fields with the animals). I have no how this compares with the rest of Burkina. When I sit with the young men, I try to speak Fulfulde and my contributions to the conversation generally go like " stars many, stars good" "I have 2 brothers. One is Adam. One is Aric." my attempts are rewarded with new vocab words. The nights I don't sit up for tea I usually go to bed by 9 (it has been dark for 2 hours at this point)
Mariam helps me set up my mosquito net tent so I can sleep outside where it is cooler and I go to sleep to the sound of Koranic readings, rowdy sheep, or scratchy Hindi songs on the radio..
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