A series of awkward experiences

September 10th, 2010

“There must be quite a few things a hot bath won’t cure, but I don’t know many of them. Whenever I’m sad I’m going to die, or so nervous I can’t sleep, or in love with somebody I won’t be seeing for a week, I slump down just so far and then I say: “I’ll go take a hot bath.”” -The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath

I survived my two weeks of serious down time and already my first week of school! Life is going pretty well thus far, though there have certainly been challenges and frustrations. Lack of communication continues to irritate the shit out of me, but I am at least beginning to expect it. Last weekend I went to the market in the neighboring village with my friend Christine and then we went on a mini-hike up a mountain and were rewarded with great views and a beer at a cozy little spot we found with nice people!

I finally have electricity and a table to eat on as well as one to cut vegetables! My house is beginning to resemble a home! Even the red mud that seems to be permanently layering the floor/my feet/everything seems to have dissipated a tad. Last week I threw on my dirtiest clothes and scrubbed the walls of my kitchen and bathroom with a scrub brush to remove its thick coat of dirt. It also removed much of the paint, unfortunately, which caked the entire floor and my entire body in white dust meaning I will most likely die in a few years from lead poisoning. My toilet still isn’t installed, (though- fingers crossed- they are coming to do so in the morning) but at least my aim in the latrine has finally been perfected! I now know exactly how to place my feet so I do not pee all over myself but I can’t say I am going to miss that hole in the ground one bit (figuratively and literally)!

My bathroom also means the prospect of running water in my house which is probably the biggest challenge of life for me here. When you turn the taps in your kitchen, or bathroom sink, or the shower today, please remember that you are lucky as all hell because not only does water unquestionably arrive immediately, but it is safe, clean, and by God, there is even a knob to make it hot instantly! Quelle luxe!

The nearly constant string of visitors I’ve had has made me into a bit of a recluse as I have hesitated to open my shutters some days to possibly deter spontaneous drop- ins. Literally, the other day I lay down after getting home from work and 3 different people stopped by within about 10 minutes. This would probably excite me if they weren’t all awful conversationalists! Most of the time they just stand awkwardly looking off in the distance, not saying anything at all unless I ask questions or start absently talking about the rain or any random thing that comes to mind to distract from the silence. This must be an American necessity- filling that gap of noiselessness, but damn! It’s one I kind of appreciate! It’s one thing to stand around not talking to someone you already know but when it’s a practical stranger stopping by it’s just freaking uncomfortable!

The first week of school was nothing at all like the first week of school in the U.S. Over half of the kids do not even bother to come at all and it seemed fairly optional for me as well. I went, however, and actually taught most of the days, though primarily very basic review things such as “My name is Ms. Caldwell. What is your name?” and the alphabet. I gave an assessment to my classes that I based on the syllabus of the lowest grade in the school and none of the levels did very well on it. Nonetheless, they seem to like me so far and their behavior the first week was far better than that of the students in Bafia. One of my classes is supposed to have 89 students so we will see if they are so easy to manage once all of them are actually present.

I guess the whole concept of making learning fun is kind of new-age or something. Here school is work. It is all about copying notes from the board, drawing perfectly straight lines in your notebook, going unnoticed by not bothering anyone until test time and then regurgitating all those notes you copied. If you fail to make yourself invisible enough you may be forced to kneel on the concrete floor, a form of corporal punishment (supposedly outlawed) which I have already seen this week. I taught for 5 hours yesterday but the time actually flew by because we played Twenty Questions and Hangman, went over the alphabet, discussed grammar points and the kids were engaged,, laughing, participating and they may’ve even been enjoying themselves; I know I definitely was! I hope that I will earn the students’ respect by being strict and serious when necessary but also being fun, cutting them some slack when appropriate, and showing them that school can be enjoyable and without even noticing, they’re actually learning something in the process! When we discussed classroom rules this week, I told them they were not children so they should not behave like children. That, if they do I will treat them as such and otherwise they will be treated like adults. I really do love teaching, I simply hope that in the end I will not face confrontation from the administration because my kids are not learning in their way or at their pace or something of that sort.

Aside from my total comfort in the classroom, there are still some days here I wonder what in the hell I was thinking dreaming all my life of signing up to come to a third world country to help people! Ha! I must be insane! For instance, Wednesday the mason came to pour concrete in the bathroom (finally). Prior to him coming I waited a week before bumping into my landlord in town and asking him about the unfinished and, of late, untouched work to which he acted shocked that it hadn’t already been completed. The technician then came the next day only to inform me that he couldn’t do his work until the mason came and poured concrete first. The following day the mason came, without notifying me, only to find that I was at school. He came the next day again and discovered there were no bags of cement so he couldn’t do the work then either.

That afternoon was our first General Assembly meeting at school, which went well. While there I saw the sous-chef who is also President of the lycee. I told him about the various excuses everyday for the work not getting finished and on his way home from school he organized for them to come that very night. That was the same day I had about a thousand visitors right when I was trying to unwind and all the million kids that live in the house directly behind me came back from the city and were hollering and going wild all over the place. Two teenagers dropped by with my cabinet for my stove and as they were walking out two of my students were dropping by to say hello while about 3 other dudes were walking in and out doing god knows what in my bathroom. Suddenly I needed to get the hell out of dodge and jetted out the front door to go buy tomatoes. Once I’d done that I felt like I should just keep walking to clear my head. It was a beautiful walk- peaceful and forested. I ran into a bunch of students coming home from a soccer match and talked with one of them as we strolled along. I was feeling much better and happy with myself for getting out of that funk, but then suddenly realized I had wandered awfully far and actually didn’t recognize a thing and had no idea where I was. The student I had been talking with arrived to his house and I asked him where to go; he said the intersection I was looking for was just a little further on so I kept walking as the group of students began to disintegrate.

An older boy approached me and started to flirt. We chatted casually a bit as the students marched behind giggling as he was getting shot down. Suddenly it occurred to me I needed to turn the hell around and go back the way I‘d come! He turned to walk back with me and then looked up at an ominous cloud-covered sky and beckoned toward the bar next to where we were standing, encouraging me that we could not walk in a downpour. He was right after all so I went with him and sure enough the rain came just a moment later, drenching the already soggy ground for at least 45 minutes. To my surprise the guy got a phone call and said he had to go but that he was leaving me in the hands of his friend, who happened to be a much more courteous young man (the same age as me, actually) named Frederic who waited out the rain and had a beer on me, and then bought a flashlight so he could walk me all the way to my house only to turn right back around and go home.

Ah, at least I was in my own home and it was quiet and empty. The electricity was out so by candlelight I began to reheat the lentil soup I’d prepared the day before. I was sitting in my room and heard something so I walked out to see what it might be and noticed there was an awfully bright glow coming from the kitchen. I walked in to find that somehow there seemed to be flames coming out of both burners and even the back of the stove, and hopping around on top of it as well, shooting up the back of the new cabinet I’d just arranged a few hours before. My heart pounding and in shock, I quickly glanced around the kitchen and saw that, luckily, there was a half-full bucket of water still on the floor. I doused the entire stove and was panicked when the fire merely flickered a second and kept burning. Suddenly it occurred to me to shut off the gas which immediately ended the mysterious catastrophe. I stood there panting in a puddle of water that was already snaking a trail into my living room and creating gobs of mud everywhere my shoes had dropped dirt from my long lost wandering adventure. Once I caught my breath I began to laugh hysterically; perhaps it was the only way to keep from crying from the day I’d just had and from the sight of my poor, formerly delicious lentil soup and because all the sudden I really felt like a foreigner. And I guess really I just had to laugh because altogether it was, after all, exactly what I signed up for…