As I look back to my previous posts, I realize that I failed to explain the political and socio-economical situation of my area in French Guiana. This information may help clarify the type of life and relations I have with the surrounding population, and more specifically explain the nature of the French classes I give (and as to why they’re not lessons given in a classroom setting with a predetermined curriculum).
Of course, everything I say is what I’ve either heard, noticed, or directly experienced. There may very well be articles out there contradicting what I say here, but I don’t feel like debating today, so I’m telling you straight up: if you want to verify my information, go right ahead – and if you feel there are things I should correct, feel free to inform me.
So, here goes.
French Guiana is an oversea department of France. Everything here is ruled by French laws. Everyone born within its borders can apply for French nationality, granted they can speak French and intermingle with the French population.
The currency used are Euros, and the prices are high, as everything sold here must be approved by the European Union. Even if we’re right next to the border of Suriname (previously known as Dutch Guiana, but who has claimed independence since … the 70’s? Not too sure.), where things are very cheap, French Guiana needs to import everything, from car parts to toilet paper, from Europe. So – high prices (and in Euros, to top it all).
The population here is widely mixed. There are Creoles, Native Amerindians, French/Europeans, Surinamese, and Chinese (Hmong), in general. The Surinamese (Maroons [a mix of African descendants of the slave trade], Guyanese, and Native Amerindians) are an especially large group in St-Laurent. This is for a simple reason: in the 1980’s and 1990’s, there was a civil war in Suriname. It lasted longer than anyone had anticipated, as I gathered (this impression comes from the fact that I heard many stories from people who were either attacked, involved, etc etc). So, the Surinamese fled to the closest border: French Guiana (more specifically, St-Laurent, my town, as it’s a border town).
For the first few years, the French government decided to ignore their presence in the department. Everyone figured the Surinamese civil war would stop soon enough. But it didn’t – and the refugees after a few years began their life anew in French Guiana. Unfortunately, it was done so illegally – no papers, no protection from the government. Just – go in the forest, build a new village, forage for yourself. The children born then were denied education in French Guiana as they were not official French citizens.
Recently, perhaps during the last ten to fifteen years, the French government had to admit that these families weren’t going anywhere. So, any minors born and/or living in French Guiana, either legally or illegally, were finally granted permission to attend school until they became majors. They would then need to apply for their French nationality. At this point, if they can prove they live and studied in the department and speak reasonable French, and have avoided any trouble with the authorities, their nationality is pretty much guaranteed.
The problem is with their parents. A whole generation has been denied education during the war (this generation being mine and the previous one). So these people, along with their parents and grandparents, cannot speak French – and therefore can’t apply for their French nationality. This is a problem because they are constantly under threat of being deported, they can’t legally work (and don’t have an education, so aren’t proficient for a lot of the jobs anyway), they can’t buy land or a house – their garbage can’t even be picked up by the city (basically they are denied all the rights of a citizen -all except hospitalization, thank goodness). So they build small shack-like houses around the city, and move whenever they have to. And St-Laurent, where I am, whose population used to be between 600-800 before the civil war, is now at 20 000, with 10 000 living around in those small houses. To give you an idea.
Back to speaking French: the refugees and immigrants need to ask for either a long-term visa or a French nationality in French. That means understanding what the office says to them in French, and replying coherently. Most of these people who have been denied education have never read in their lives, and don’t know how to study or learn subjects, nor languages. So for them it’s especially hard to learn French, unless they’re gutsy and throw themselves into the fire (and there are some I know who do this, which is great) – especially for the women, as they usually stay in their house all day and attend to their 5 – 10 children and cooking (which is a nice simple way of living, but it sucks if you’re afraid of being deported half the time). It’s therefore hard to integrate in the French society to learn the language if you don’t go out at all to intermingle.
That’s when I come in: all the French lessons I do are part of a non-profit organization, SuriFrance, that offers French classes to anyone who wants them – but for free. So I go around in those little camps and small houses by bike, set up a class time and location for their friends and neighbours (so these classes usually happen in someone’s house), and spend an hour or two per week with each group (which are mostly women). And part of the project is really making a program that’s aimed at that specific population, to teach them verbally things they would need to know to get around. Some are at the point where they want to learn how to read (syllable dictations can be fun, apparently). At this moment, I am now looking at how one applies for a visa and a French nationality so I can teach them what they may be asked, and how they should answer accordingly. No easy task.
But let me tell you, I’m going to feel damn useful if I succeed.
(For more general info on St-Laurent, click here)
(For more general information on the Suriname civil war, click here)
