In appreciation of teachers

My ability to read many books in short spans of time at site is dwindling, seeing as I am actually doing worthwhile things with my time now, but I did find the time to start reading Teacher Man by Frank McCourt. I haven’t finished it yet, but a book discussion is not the point of this entry. Instead, it just brings to light the fact that seldom do we take the time to thank those who spent countless hours marking up our poorly-written commentaries with red pen and, as one of my college mentors might say “making it bleed.” It’s amazing how so much constructive criticism can keep you in your place.

I could go on about the merits of teachers, how they helped me get where I am here and how they are entirely underappreciated the majority of the time, but that would simply be inflating their egos and is beside the point. Instead, there actually is a point to my discussion of teachers in relation to my life in Senegal. The past week I have been busy setting up my projects for the upcoming planting season, and it occurred to me that thus far, all of my best friends and work partners in this country have been teachers. Most of the reason for this is that teachers are by far the most educated people in the village. When you are normally lucky to talk to someone who has been to a couple years of grade school and can read a word or two, it is a breath of fresh air to talk to someone who has been to college and can have an intelligent discussion on the differences between the democratic and republican Senegalese parties, or who at least has heard of people like Michael Jackson or Bill Gates. It is not fair of me to expect educated people here to know American music when educated people in America rarely could name the most popular singer in Senegal, so I don’t take it for granted when I can play a Panic at the Disco song on my iPod and have a Senegalese friend recognize it. Oumi and I have had a couple of nights when we rocked out to “Hips Don’t Lie” and “Promiscuous” while the villagers watched on us amusedly. Of course, it is nothing out of the normal for us to act completely over-the-top and theatrical, so nobody asked any questions.

Teachers also have turned out to be fantastic work partners for agroforestry work. Back when I first installed (almost 5 months ago now!), Oumi and I walked over to Saloum Diane for a day to meet her coworkers over there, and I met one guy who wanted me to take a picture of him in the classroom. I did, and spent the next several months making excuses that I could not print it for him since I had not been to a location that prints photos. Then, a few days ago, I took a trip over to our neighboring village Keur Serigne Bamba to check out some Jatropha live fences and Ziziphus trees there, and found myself greeting him there. Apparently he lives in Serigne Bamba and just stays in a room in Saloum Diane on weekdays to teach, but he took me over to his field of 40 hectares to check out some agroforestry species. Let me assure you, nobody I have ever met in Fatick region has had a field of 40 hectares- that is simply incomprehensible when you consider that there are no machines doing any of the work in the fields and very little agricultural education. He demonstrated some of the unique trees he was propagating for live fencing, most of which Peace Corps is trying to promote itself, and referred to them by their scientific rather than their local names. He also had examples of grafted Ziziphus and mango trees, which is extremely rare in a village since it requires technical skill other than what you learn through trial-and-error.

Projects with schools themselves are also much more rewarding when you see eye-to-eye with your work partners. The school garden I am working on in Babou Njiti is probably the most fun I’ve had at site, since each time I go there we get to work in the garden, I spend a bit of time in the classroom teaching about American culture or English, then we go back to my friend’s hut where we have real conversations and joke about music or American food. Thus far, I’ve begun teaching the male teachers over there yoga and salsa. Apparently, they’ve been practicing. (As a side note, for anyone who ever plans on joining Peace Corps, learn some yoga. It’s probably the best exercise you can get given that you live in a hut and everyone laughs at everything you do outside of it.)

Within my home village, I had a meeting with the teachers yesterday planning what types of projects they want to accomplish while I’m here. We sat together in the small office and discussed logistics in a very organized and pointed way, which as an American used to meetings about projects rather than short discussions involving tea, I appreciated greatly. As of now, we are planning a small windbreak, live fence, shade trees and a few fruit trees, in addition to supplemental environmental education classes explaining what we are doing and small side projects like murals and book donations. Speaking of which, if you keep up with this blog and have actually read this far, that probably means you either need to give me money or send me a care package. Money is in the form of a donation to our book project in which we will be contributing kids books in French to form a small library and provide teaching resources for a school that has none. Here’s the link: Books! ­­­­­­­Care packages must include small scientific demonstrations: a small set of magnets, a compass, plastic thermometer, books with pictures of the human body or small models of it, or whatever you have lying around the house that takes up very little space in a package but would be of great interest to a village-bound 7-year old are all appreciated. American snacks for me are also a must.

So in conclusion, don’t forget to thank teachers for the differences they’ve made in your life, whether or not you were actually in their class. Alternatively, you can simply thank a Peace Corps volunteer for being awesome. You know it’s true.

~E