Thomas in Burkina: February 2009

Saturday, February 7, 2009

poor folks have poor ways

volunteering back home is straight forward. you understand the needed advancement, the hunger to abate, the thirst to quench. you grow up as the hero, knowing where the dragon lies. salvation armies and desert industries can point them out to you.

on foreign soil, the story fades. what is hunger? when is one scorched by thirst? in a land of environmental hostility and a sheer lack of resource, what dragon can you handle with no sword? there is no equivalency in the tales of home. people here speak of new paradigms.

as the questions mount, i find i push further into the fundamental pieces of my life. as interesting a subject as is politics, it falls quickly aside. history and philosophy become worn. engineering capability hardly applies to a place without steel and cement. my life, as a building, is reduced to a slab, a simple solid foundation. is that enough to be of any help?

it does not take long to see the value of such a foundation, especially in the heat of the current day. so many children pass in and out of my courtyard with no mode to take charge of their lives. i cannot feed them all. their need for resources, i cannot satisfy. all i have is a start, my foundation.

what is this solid structure that i find at the core of my life? a simple, yet strong, idea given to me by my parents; responsibility. be responsible for not only your actions, but for the progress of your life. in any given situation, there are a million reasons not to move forward. there are difficulties aplenty. when you take on the responsibility for your own life, those difficulties no longer become overwhelming, instead they are merely obstacles.

i often demonstrate this to my classes by putting complex problems on the board. immediately, everyone complains that it is too hard. they are left staring blankly, hopeless. i then write another problem on the board, much easier, and they quickly calculate the answer. again, i write another and another. watching them as they figure each out quickly. then, it is back to the original question. the stares start to go blank but are shaken when i tell them the answer has already been calculated. piece by piece, i write the other problems' answers inline with the original problem, explaining each step again. the complexity falls away. the kids find it an interesting game, a trick i've played on them. if i could only get them to see that this is the core of life. take responsibility for the first step, move one calculation, one step, at a time.

i grew up in a family unlike many i've seen globetrotting. my parents were not well-to-do. we did not have money when i was a small child. quite the opposite. did i ever know this? partially, but i never really felt it. why? endurance and clarity in the face of struggle are my parents greatest assets. whether it was abusive parents, lack of resources, glass ceilings, degrees never obtained... they found ways to meet the current challenge and continue on. no problem was solved over night. there was no jump to the good life. every piece, they have earned and i cannot think of anyone more deserving. now, can i give this to those around me?

it would be easy for me to say, be like my Mom and Dad. they are the example, not me. after all, i could never compare to all that they've accomplished. i could tell stories and let it be enough. but it isn't. so, after so many years of independence and seeking my own way, i find the greatest good i can be in my life is to be what my parents were to me, role models. true role models.

there are dashing heroes in the world. knights slay dragons. emperors conquer wild lands. politicians make grand speeches and debate over vast laws. all have their interesting, captivating side. yet, all require more, something much more basic to truly make a difference. from my parents, i was given a true example of lives well lived, of making a difference in difficult circumstance by standing on firm ground and taking a step forward.

i may go and slay dragons one day. i think it might be fun. but fun is hardly the essence of my life. being a good man, that is much harder and more fulfilling. there is a saying in my family, "poor folks have poor ways." it is well understood amongst us that it is not a slight against the poor. it means instead that we find ways of doing what we can with what we have, even if it isn't the established way. no greater example is there than my parents. no greater role models. i can only take a step towards being one myself, whether i ever make it... we will see.

currently, i am working on a number of projects with the children. first off, we work on school material. obviously, there is the time when i am teaching in class but also we have the evenings when children huddle in my courtyard. i often find the evenings are more important. it is one on one time for detailed explanations (and a few jokes).

also, i'm trying to develop certain individuals into tutors or leaders of their class. students that can extend my reach farther by assisting others with exercises and explanations when i am helping others or gone from country.

thirdly, there are projects to start their creativity. whether that means taking photos and developing them or writing stories of our creation in english and translating them back to french. (i get a kick out of genies, aka bush demons, that they all talk about here. apparently, they eat children. everyone has their fairy tales) i've even thought about what can be done to get them involved in using the computer and simple electronic equipment. perhaps making a short video with the digital and showing them the editing process might help.

finally, we've talked about building a kid based library, where kids are the ones to introduce material (either developed by them or about them) which they can take responsibility for. kid content and kid resources pooled together. back to the basic idea of what is a library.

what comes of these small projects really doesn't matter in the grand scheme. a story here and there means hardly anything. but, the foundation that we can build for understanding how to elevate yourself and change your situation is worth every frustration and setback. speaking of which, i have devices to go fix. must find the ductape. after all, poor folks have poor ways. just ask my folks.

beast of burden

strength, vitality, just pure domination. the association is American Gladiators or Darwin. rarely do donkeys come to mind. but be afraid. Very.

on that small trek home, i ride along without care, usually taking in the peaceful calm that settles over the village around midday. i turn towards and pass the house of the school director and laugh at two donkeys playing, one child and its mother. suddenly, they began to move. it's a sense of something brutish. then, i spot a younger male donkey with lust in his eyes head straight for that ass. she panics and pushes the little one along.

"don't worry child. mom is here" she seemed to say.

the younger donkey pushes closer, coming along side the mom. she can't buck him from the side. he slams his head into her side. they're in a full gallop now. her heart raising. his hormones the same. they've circled the director's house twice. i'm just watching.

then a cry pierces through the turmoil and i turn to see a much larger male raising towards and beyond me. i'm a mere portion of scenery to his focused and flared view of events. his passions strides past the mare and slams into the side of the young buck. he's shocked and suddenly distraught. again, the young one races, this time, the chased.

nothing here surprises me. it's a typical scene. those slow moving beats of burden suddenly hitting thirty clicks an hour to trample another's hormones. they often race through the night. race after race. but this had surprise intertwined.

the older ass was hardly satisfied with the fatigue of the younger. out of breath, the young one slows and is suddenly caught by the jaws of the brute. on the flank, the back side of the thigh, teeth are gripping. the move paralysis him momentarily. he tries to buck but can't move his gripped legs. he only causes them to hang now completely from the jaws of the dominate male. they dangle in the air, in a semi-bucking action, unable to touch the ground. the young one is trapped and left without option. he gives up the struggle. victory is the elder's. yet this is not satisfying. lessons need be learned.

in the vice of teeth, the elder drags the poor boy. his front legs sliding in the dust, surrounding them in a cloud of fine brown. panic rises in the younger's eyes. stiff panic. then, action. a mistake. he tries to turn his moment toward the teeth, gnashing with his own. without unlocking his jaws and with a sudden rearing spring, the elder pushes the torso of the buck into the dirt, the legs flipping upward. the buck is pressed into the dirt with a sharp angle, jack-knifing his body, spine drilling him downwards. the pain is obvious in the wiggling struggle. there are no more bold movements, just jitters of fright in the beast. he knows surrender only fails him. the elder wants blood.

from exhaustion the teeth loosen. the fight is already minutes old (years for pulsing testosterone). the buck kicks and frees himself to crumple fully into the ground, a mere mass. the jolt of teeth along his mane catches him into a sudden rise. there is no more fight in him. his body speaks of regret and submission. his now the parade toy for the older general. and parade they do. the elder marches him around, displaying his pride.

it was then that i realized, i had caught my onlookers. those eyes down the way were watching this foreigner so preoccupied with the mundane actions of an ass. i left the submitted and parading for home, the facade of slow treading beasts of burden forever crumpled and driven into the dirt.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

the progressive

we all speak of change these days. oh the audacity! well, i thought it would be interesting to see the marks of change over the past nine months in my own face. so here goes:

May 2008 (Before the Peace Corps)