“Do You Get Paid?”

The one question Philip and I get asked very often (other than “Are you two married?”) is “Do you get paid”?

Actually, most of the time, they don’t ask it – they just assume we do. So when the topic comes up, it’s more like, “What? You mean you don’t get paid?” (Often it’s followed by “I don’t believe you.”)

It’s not a problem. We don’t mind specifying why we don’t get paid (Baha’is are encouraged to go out in the world and do some service where needed – see post #1 of this blog). But today’s conversation went down a path that shed a little light on our monetary and material needs in a way I don’t usually look at it. I explained that the family with whom I’m staying offers me room and board – the essentials to live, basically. But that I don’t get paid.

And the 12 year old boy nodded his head and said: “Oooh, yeah, that’s cool. So your neither rich, nor poor. Just like us.”

Neither rich nor poor. You have all you need, you’re not starving, you don’t go out of your way to excessively buy random things or unnecessary things.

Why not?

Cayenne, Montréal, and old aquaintances

First off, I have a gazillion new pictures up: some recent, and some I previously said I’d put up two months ago (like Carnival).

First Set: Carnival

Second Set: Naw-Ruz party

Third Set: The Doekoe girls

And more … but not as sets. So everything else, might as well just check out my flickr site in general.

So a while back, I mentioned having to go to Cayenne, the capital of the French Guyanese department. We finally made the trip this weekend. First, may I mention how it was great to sit in the back of a car and look at the scenery roll by. Palm trees, vines, heavy rain, hills, and … North American pine trees?!?  (apparently they tried establishing a commercial paper mill and the poor trees didn’t turn out as prolific as they wanted).

We arrived in Cayenne to organize a tutor refresher workshop on Sunday. This meant we had a relatively free Saturday, and the most memorable moments were spent in the shiny new Baha’i Center. More specifically, I spent most of the time with a man called Bart. Turns out he’s Canadian too. Not only that – he plays guitar. Well. So we jammed. And it felt awesome to once again play things like “La complainte du phoque en Alaska,” “Orange Blossom Special,” “Matapatalimatou” … and of course “La Bamba” with everyone switching instruments so we could all have a challenge (me on drums, Bart on fiddle, Oginio on wooden spoons [which, for a local youth, was a total novelty - percussions with wooden spoons, who would have though!], and Philip on guitar) (Ok, Philip plays guitar, so he was the steady one of the group).

Turns out Bart played music with my mother quite often around thrity years ago back in Canada.

Small world.

In other news, and many of you have already been harassed by me about this, is that I’ve officially been accepted in my Masters’ program at Université de Montréal (music composition, audiovisual applications) (this means cinema and video games). I guess that project I wrote during those first 6 days stranded in Paramaribo was good enough.

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And the car, which had previously died and kept us from going to Cayenne in February, has died again. For real this time. I’m car-less for a while now. The poor little Twingo.

Comic Part II

I received a lovely package from home not long ago … my grey markers to make comics.

So I tried them out.

Despite the palest colours not showing, I think this works fairly well.

Happy Naw Ruz!

I was asked to send in a one-minute video of myself explaining where I am and what I’m doing to the Baha’i community of Ottawa, my home town. They’re making a compilation of everyone who’s not in the country to celebrate Naw-Ruz (Baha’i New Year) on Friday’ party. So I obliged.

Of Hogs and Half-Time

A while back , perhaps in January, I mentioned a trip up the Maroni river, and how we met a bunch of different animals, like pet monkeys, pet parrots, pet cats … and a pet hog. Well, I finally found Philip’s Photobucket site, and indeed, he has a picture of the Guyanese hog fraternizing with the tourist French dog.

It’s cute.

For a good 200 other pictures, check out his site here.

I realize I’ve been a liiiittle uncommunicative on this blog recently. Things have not been either slower- nor faster-paced. I think I’m starting to get used to my life here and find that I don’t see every day events worthy of being told anymore – which is a mistake. There are funny stories to be related every day. I also have a few ideas for a few more comic strips, which include learning how to make a gas stove work at 5am, and being trampled by a hoard of kids while playing “Red Light, Green Light”.

More up to date, for the past 17 days, it’s been the Baha’i Fast. I was under the impression it would have been horrendously difficult, due to the amount of activities we have during the day, and the heat (Fast = no eating nor drinking anything while the sun is up – it also includes a lot of soul-searching and fun spiritual exploration). But to tell you the truth, rainy season has made the temperature gentle, and biking from class to class does not parch me nor tire me. In fact, this may have been my most successful Fast yet. Interesting.

(It’s only waking up to eat breakfast at 5:45 that gets to me – not quite awake at those times – this is directly linked to my next comic about learning how to make a gas stove work at 5 in the morning …)

A few other notes: yesterday was officially my half-time in French Guiana (day 138 of 276). I haven’t been counting, but I new generally that my half-time would land during the Fast, so I calculated for fun. So there you go. The first 138 were like climbing up a steep hill – a test of endurance and perseverance. I’m now over the hill. Now it’s run run run down that hill to try to accomplish all those things I feel I should have accomplished before I leave!

Four Months

Strange happenings:

• Almost ran over venomous snake with car. Twice.
• Meats eaten: armadillo, chicken claw, shark, piranha.
• Plowed an Amazonian field with hand machetes to make a soccer field with 10 other boys.
• Found that 23 degrees Celsius, when temperature usually stays at 27, can actually feel relatively cold.
• The Lord works in mysterious ways: new plane itinerary makes it impossible for me to reach Canada on the day I fly back, so I’m *forced* to stay in New York for a few days, and visit my friends of the surrounding area. My family is also free to go to a cousin’s wedding on the same day I was arriving.
• I’m becoming more tolerant as a person. How strange.
• I’m now preferring tea to coffee. That’s the strangest yet.
• Oh, and for those of you who don’t know yet, my dear and beloved McGill (ex) roommate will be hopping by St-Laurent (town where I currently reside) for a whole three months to do an internship in Public Health as part of her Masters’ degree. She had to find an overseas location. I just happened to be overseas and to know the right people for her to find a project here. … EXCITED!!!

Wait wait what now? How long has it been?

In a few days I’ll have reached half of the time I’m spending in French Guiana.

…

What HAVE I accomplished?!? What WAS I supposed to accomplish?

Ok, so I keep jotting down the amount of lessons I have, the amount of students, and such statistical numbers … but sometimes it’s just so easy to fall into the routine and forget why you’re really there.

I forgot.

So I’m attempting a checklist:

• teaching French as a second language to illiterate women. *check*
• creating a new set of French lessons aimed directly to the local population’s need, and ORGANIZE it so others can use it successfully. *oops. need to start organizing my lessons a little more effectively*
• 35 radio programs *hm. looking for some voice actors who can read and act a bit*
• children’s classes *check*
• junior youth groups, encouraging the arts *check, successful at least with one group*
• jam with local musicians *not yet ….!*
• help out in the Baha’i community’s activities *check*
• finding new local youth who’d be willing to help out once we’re gone *…maaaaybe one?*

Ok. Now I need to make sure I don’t leave the country with any regrets. Starting with the easiest:

1. organizing the French lessons’ curriculum and evaluation system (gah – any teachers out there who would have a sheet of basic second language competencies? Mom? Dad?).
2. Jam with local musicians: some recent contacts may make this possible – if anything, making up songs with Irène counts, I believe. We improvise on the spot. That’s considered jamming, right?
3. Radio shorts: maybe I should be the one to initiate a discussion of the possible actors with others who are involved, as everyone’s as busy as everyone else.
4. Finding new youth: set up a meeting with that one girl’s parents to see how they can all participate.

Ok.

I still feel like I don’t know what I’m doing.

But at least I’m doing something.