Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Thoughts on Language Learning

Last night, I had a very interesting encounter with my neighbors. One of them is a very pleasant 17 year old who has taken it upon himself to be a cultural guide for the nassara (foreigners) of the neighborhood this summer while his female family members make rice, take care of the children, etc. F invited me to have tea with him and some friends. It had just rained and thus I couldn’t do my laundry that evening, so I gladly accepted. We sat down outside his courtyard, made pleasant small talk in French, then they started rapidly speaking in local language. They admonished me for not understanding and wanting to join in – they knew that I had been taking classes in local language through Peace Corps. I declined, saying that I would try to understand the conversation and perhaps join in at a later date. F graciously provided some translations, but the others just looked confused. One finally explained that they were trying to help me understand by speaking at me. I knew that they weren’t trying to be frustrating or exclusive, though that’s certainly how it felt. Another asked if we commonly learned languages orally in America. I calmly explained that, no, normally in America we have classes, books, dictionaries, and other learning aids. All of my interlocuteurs had learned local language as children, French when they went to school (age 5-6) and perhaps other local languages for professional/family reasons later on using the “listen attentively and figure it out” method. Another complicating factor is that Americans are used to meeting people who speak English as a second, third, or fourth language. I feel that most generally try to be understanding and encouraging of the other person. Apart from Peace Corps trainees and volunteers, hardly anyone learns local language as a foreign language and thus my discussion partners had never met anyone who spoke “part” of the language. It was always an all-or-nothing proposition to them. I drank my last cup of tea and went back home to prepare my lesson for the next day, glad that I had stayed long enough to explain my frustration rather than retreat.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Souvenirs

Being on site visit allowed me ample time to read, reflect, and ponder. In an attempt to distract my tired brain from the heat, I compared my stage schedule to my emploi du temps last year in France and a typical day during my senior year of college. A typical Wednesday would look like the following for each year:

Senior Year (2nd Semester) 8 am get up and eat cereal, 9 am class, 10 am reading at library, 11 am class, quick lunch break at campus café, gym, nap, homework, nap, Chipotle dinner, homework/thesis research, ice cream/The Office DVDs

Nancy, France (3rd Trimester) 7:15 am scarf down pain au chocolat and dash to bus, 8 am class, 9 am bakery break, 10 am class, 11 am bus ride home, quick sandwich lunch, nap, Facebook, nap, blogs, jogging, chicken and rice dinner, email, French film/wine

West Africa (June) 5:45 am woken up by braying farm animals (in city), bucket bath, eat bread with long-lasting butter substitute and Nescafé, bike to school, 8 am local language class – grammar, 10 am French language class – presentations on assigned novels, avocat/omelette sandwich lunch, medical session on diarrhea, bathroom break, cross-cultural gestures, Internet café, chatting with host family while watching World Cup, homework, read book

As you can see, my productivity now more closely matches that from my senior year of college than my lazy days last year. I’m glad that I had that time to reflect and chill out, and am also très content that I’m doing so much per day now. We have a bit more than 1 month left in our training period. While many Peace Corps Volunteers are told to spend the first few months getting to know their sites and doing assessments before taking on major projects, we the future teachers will have one month until our 25+ hr/week jobs start. This should be a nice compromise – enough to keep me quite busy, but also let me savor the color of my new flowers and the sounds of the bleating goat tired up outside my courtyard.

La messe africaine

Since my arrival in country, I’ve been to 4 messes (Catholic masses). Two were completely in local language, one was entirely in French, and the latest one was a complementary mixture of the two. They normally last 1.5-2 hours, though yesterday I sat through a new priest’s first mass for four hours. There’s not a specific élément ajouté which makes the services longer, each part just takes an extra 5-10 minutes. For instance, the choir will sing an eight minute song instead of a four line hymn. Moreover, the messages have been quite different than what I normally heard in the US or Europe. Instead of discussing how to best use material goods to benefit the less fortunate, the priest is far more likely to emphasize the comforting and supportive nature of God’s love, especially in times of great hardship. The churches I’ve been to were all cathedrals which resembled your typical American suburban Catholic church. One of my other goals for my time here is to learn more Islam and its influence in host country culture (cuisine, politics, gender relations) given that the Muslim population is large but not the absolute majority. During the masses in local language, I’m usually able to tirer (draw out a few key words such as “God,” “father,” and “very good.” While the other parishioners are reciting their phrases, I usually quietly recite them in my head in English. It’s the thought (and the faith) that count. Still, I’ll try to find a Bible in the local language before heading to site. Especially since there’s always a lot of causerie (informal chatting) after mass!

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Greetings!

Bonjour ! Ne y yibeoogo ! Hello !
Salut ! Ça va? Y yibeoog yaa laafi ? Hi! How are you?
Ça va bien. Laafi bala. I’m fine.
Et la famille ? Y zak ramba ? And the family ?
Ça va. Laafi. Fine.
Et le travail ? Y tuuma kibare ? And work ?
Ça va. Laafi. Fine.
C’est bien. Yaa soma. That’s great.

That sums up about 85% of the conversations I had on site visit. (Side note: Much more sympathy to parents of sullen teenagers!) I had some interesting exchanges with my future co-workers, but on this whirlwind découverte, I didn’t get beyond salutations with most people. One complicating factor is French proficiency. The first elementary school in my village wasn’t built until the 1970s and the collège (middle school) where I’ll be teaching is less than 10 years old. Fundamental cultural differences also play a role. In host country culture, greetings are presque mandatory and form a much greater part of relationships. Still, I’m starting to understand just how isolating the Peace Corps experience can be. Il faut (It is necessary) to always remember that integration is a process, not an event. Going through stage has made me realize how much I’ve grown since last year. As my previous blog details, I had many wonderful experiences in France, but I spent more than a few nights in front of my computer with a glass (or two) of wine, waiting for something to happen. My language proficiency and ease of cultural adjustment were things that I took for granted when I returned to the US, but are helping me to deal with the stresses of life in a very different culture.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Sojo it goes...

Just a little update from language classes: since I originally placed into Advanced French, I started more intensive local language classes a few weeks ago. I do, however, still have a few courses per week with my French class and instructor. We’ve been reading novels related to our host country and doing small reports in addition to discussions on pertinent social issues and logistics like transportation. My amazing instructor A often uses “Sojo” as a filler word. Francophones tend to feel uncomfortable with pauses and “umms…” and add in more filler words such as “puis” (then) and “en fait” (in fact). My classmates and I thought that “Sojo” was a word borrowed from our instructor’s native language and asked her what it meant. As it turns out, it’s her own unique pronunciation of “chose” (thing)! Personally, I tend to stick with “voila” and “quoi” as reliable fillers, though I had some friends back in France who quickly adopted the habit of ending most of their phrases with “putain” (literally “whore” but figuratively akin to “crap”). My language instructor also mentioned that one can tell host country nationals who have spent time in France because they use “vache” and “vachement” in their speech. In France, one can say “la vache” in response to exciting (positive/negative) news and “vachement” as an adverb to refer to something that is done to excess. What are your filler words?

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Training Tales

We’ve almost finished the first month of training and things are moving at a far brisker pace. I’m glad to be getting more exposure to my local languages in addition to French practice. However, the physical and mental stress is starting to wear on me a bit. Classes six days a week in an immersive environment doesn’t leave a lot of individual downtime. Luckily, I brought some great books and downloaded a few more thanks to the Internet. After polishing off “The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest,” I got midway through “Mysteries of Udolpho” before turning to “The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency: The Full Cupboard of Life” for some quick entertainment. Emails and conversations with friends and family from the States reenergize me, though I admit to being a bit tardy with responses. Even though I spend most of my day with other Trainees, I relish lazy late afternoon conversations with them as a way to de-stress from une longue journée très (voire trop) chargée! Regular naps and Crystal Light lemonade also help the transition. Thankfully my body seems to be adjusting to the heat and the food. I seem to have found a morning breakfast drink: two scoops Nescafe, one scoop powdered milk, one cube of sugar, one cup of hot water. It may not taste like a traditional café au lait, but I appreciate the few moments of silence each morning when I can drink this unique concoction and observe the world around me a bit. Chickens crowing, people cleaning and chatting, water being drawn from the spigots. A few days ago I went running with some friends. After five minutes on the trail, we found ourselves in a lush forest that gave way to a small neighborhood. It turned out to be the nice landscaping of a golf course, but a few moments surrounded by la verdure and endorphins from the run did wonders for my mental health. While training can be exhausting, I’m also very excited to dive into new material. We’re preparing for more practical experience in the classroom and will hear more about our eventual living/working arrangements later. Notice how many times I said “we” in the past few sentences: though it can be hard to find individual time to recharge, sharing this experience with amazing Volunteers and Trainees reminds me that I do have a place here.