Wrap-up

I was hoping to write more after coming back, but the truth is, having found my friends and family again, I don’t feel the need to write here anymore … except one last time. Just to wrap things up.  So here we go.

French Guiana was not easy. And I was also not the easiest person with whom to work. But I would never change that experience with anything in the world. I have discovered so much about myself, about others, and about ties that unite seemingly different peoples into one family. I’ve seen the power of words, of the Word, and of wordless communication. I’ve seen the devastating effects of illiteracy, and shared the joy of my friends when they discovered that, after months of work, they could string together syllables. I’ve experienced the freedom of washing and bathing in a small creek under the stars, and playing in a dusty field with children until dusk. Sang out loud and not cared if we were in tune or not. Encouraged girls and women that they do have a place in a world dominated by men. Shared prayers for healing, protection, mourning, and growth.
And, for a year … I felt useful.

This is a quote from a letter I wrote to some members of the Local Spiritual Assembly of Ottawa. I find it wraps-up my feelings quite well.

I am now a Master’s student at Université de Montréal, studying film scoring composition. It’s very exciting, and very heavy as far as course load goes (think 3 short videos to score within the span of 6 days, each having between 24h-48h to write them).  Here’s an example:

I have also been reunited with my good violin. He and I have had quite a few adventures already. I have stepped on a stage for the first time today since my return. I’d forgotten how much I love it. Thankfully, I haven’t lost too much of my technique, though my fingers are distinctively slower.

I now live in Montréal in a beautiful large apartment, high ceilings, wooden floors – my room is so big it could fit all of the family at PK-10 where I would stay during the weekends (this is still awkward for me …). Food is cheap. My new roommate is another fiddler – and we are currently fiddling together, and building a studio in our apartment, as she will be also studying in my program in January. We have wonderful neighbours, and there is a small sense of community in this building. There are many trees – we practically live on the top of Mount Royal and can see the whole city from our roof top (because we have access to a rooftop!).

Some have asked me if I had some sort of culture shock coming back: many white people, big cities, different values, different levels of honesty …. I’ve got to say: culture shock has been at minimal level (especially when you consider I flew directly from French Guiana to New York City). I had braced myself for things to have changed back home. And things have. And I was fine with it. (Again, though – I’m still in awe with the luck we had finding this apartment, getting into the film program, and how everything is just so … easy … except when it comes to paperwork.)

I have also somehow transformed into a more initiative, calmer, and flexible person. Not only people tell me – I feel it. I rarely feel rushed or stressed anymore. I spend less – I feel less like I HAVE to buy this and that and ooo that too … Of course I’m still extremely far from perfect, and will always be … but these are good changes.

I have also officially switched from coffee to tea, as tea was more available and affordable than coffee back at the Walker’s house. This may contribute to me being calmer …

I find myself being asked so many times the following: “SO! You were gone in South America! How was it?!?” … and not being able to answer (this, Sarah Windle has also experienced). So many things happen in a year. So many emotions, so many thoughts, so many decisions.  How can I wrap it all neatly into a two-minute answer? I see now that I can’t. So I must sift through many of my experiences and pick out small episodes that may interest some people. Even my new roommate has heard practically nothing.

I’ve reconnected with the Baha’i community of Montréal … I can’t believe how many artists, GOOD artists, there are … I’m now trying to get some artistic projects going: such awesome opportunities! I’m also volunteering at the Shrine of Abdu’l-Baha once a month as a guide, where I get to learn more stories of Him, and get to tell them in turn … (and learn how to make Persian tea … mmmmm, Persian tea …)

I got to communicate with the next Youth Year of Service which will be picking up the projects where we left them in French Guiana. She sounds very competent, and is starting up a blog of her own (http://dugoutcanoe.wordpress.com). Apparently reading this helped her get an idea of how it can be over there. If that is the case, then this blog has served its purpose, and I’m happy about it.

And lastly, today, I just gave my first children’s class in North America. Ever. Who were the kids? … a bunch of jovial kids, many having just arrived from Haiti and Africa this summer (with one little Québecois girl).

And for a moment, while the kids were clibing all over me in the yard … I was transported back in French Guiana.

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If for some strange reason, someone wants to continue reading about my ramblings as I go on with life as a film music student, you can find my thoughts on my other blog, which I’ve also had for a while in French Guiana when I wrote of things that did not involve my experiences there: http://randomivity.wordpress.com

The Magic of Duct Tape

So this weekend I went to the village (PK-10), as usual, where my older kids (8-10 years old) are always a highlight for me. They’re incredibly noisy and all over the place, but without a trace of mean streak in them. So it always ends up being fun despite the craziness (this is one of the few boisterous groups that don’t have a violence problem). That, and they’re hilarious together.

One boy in particular is incredibly smart. Jorghinio, nine years old, lives in this completely impoverished area and dreams of becoming a doctor. I believe he can make it if he really wants to, because he’s so incredibly smart and good-natured, and I doubt the country won’t fund his university studies if he ever applies for scholarships when he gets to that point. Again, though, he’s nine – he’s got time to decide. But this kid is, without a doubt, gifted.

Back to the story. We were working on reading comprehension stuff in the carving hut (the only enclosed space with a decent table). No one was carving at that point, nor giving lessons, so we were free to use it. This weekend, as usual, these five kids were bouncing off the walls. They were just NOT quieting down. But, lo and behold … Jorghinio (who is usually the loudest) saw my big duct tape roll, which I had brought for kite-making afterwards, and piped up: “Hey! Can I have a long piece of tape? I’ll stick it on my mouth. I know that when I talk, I get everyone else talking. So if I shut myself up by taping my mouth, we may be able to finish the work!”

So I taped his mouth shut.

The four other kids then jumped up to me and said “Me too! Tape my mouth too!”

So I taped all of their mouths.

And they also wanted me to tape their hands together like handcuffs, to add a challenge to writing their answers. So I obliged. (The strangest things can spontaneously become a game.)

And so I began reading true or false questions, where they vigorously nodded or shook their heads to answer, and scribbled away “f”s and “v”s (faux & vrai) on their worksheets.

At that precise moment, one of the French sculpting students, a 50-ish year old strict-looking lady, walked in on me, looking for the sculpting teacher.

She basically froze in the door frame. Looking at me. With five kids with their mouths taped shut and their hands tied.

You can imagine how I tried to talk myself out of that one.

Thank God the kids looked like they were enjoying themselves.

Of Zen, Craftmanship, and Weekend Plans

I need to learn how to chill out. Seriously. I am, as a person, very nervous. Sometimes it blows out of proportion. I get scared for the smallest things, and I don’t realize the effect it has on my attitude, my self-esteem (and therefore my performance), and my sleep (and therefore health).

Sometimes stressful situations will roll off my back like water on a duck. Other times I’ll freeze out of fear. I still don’t know what makes me trigger, but it’s really getting on my nerves. I’m afraid that my nervousness and my fear comes through during some of my classes, and that maybe I end up destabilizing the kids. Isn’t the whole point of these classes for them to feel good about themselves and to have fun? Having a nervous and fearful teacher won’t give that effect. I need to zen-out.

That being said, I have another artistic outlet that I realized I haven’t explained yet.

I’m learning how to carve. Saramacca-style. They call that “Tembe”, which is interesting, as the word “tembe” is also used for any other craftsmanship, including hair-braiding. (Hair-braiding here is an art. Seriously.)

So for the past few months, I’ve been slowly designing a chess board with Saramacca designs on the edges. My teacher has been VERY patient with me. Wood-carving demands for precision and arm-strength. I’m definitely lacking the necessary arm-muscle, so it doesn’t take long for me to get tired! Therefore, I’ve been bringing my chess board home and working away at it little chunks at a time. I am now finished drawing and outlining everything with a thin cut. The next step that I’ll be taking today is sanding down the pencil marks, and then I start digging for real. (The 32 squares’ outlines have been dug out already.)

“In the Baha’i Cause arts, sciences and all crafts are counted as worship. The man who makes a piece of note paper to the best of his ability … is giving praise to God.” — ‘Abdu’l-Baha, The Divine Art of Living, p.65

This is something we’re discussing today with the older kids at PK-10.

Other items on this weekend’s menu:

• Kite-making
• Little celebration for the younger kids since they finished their “chapter” (which included putting a jewel on a crown every lesson – the crown is full, so they get to make themselves a crown – they’ve been looking forward to this …)
• Feast at the Doekoe’s house on Sunday night (“the Doekoes’” is the family with my adored five girls youth group – this is the first Feast they’ll be hosting in a long time, so in all, everyone’s excited)
• Sanding down my chess board
• Maybe getting my hair fully braided. We’ll see. Irène (friend at PK-10) has done a successful test last week.

Of Pillow Fights and Chicken Costumes

Of pillow fights:

Of chicken costumes:

Monday Log

8h00-9h00: Wake up, breakfast, get ready for 9am French writing tutoring with one young lady.

Fabled Breakfast Purple Fruit described in Tuesday Log.

It’s called a Star Apple.

9h00-10h15: Wait for lady.

10h15-12h00: Lady finally shows up. Had a great time. (She’s also tutoring me on how to speak the local Creole language, Taki-Taki – both of us are making progress, which is a good sign.)

12h00-13h00: Debrief about the past week (write notes, file electronic records of attendance, lessons taught, activities prepared, etc etc)

13h00-13h30: Lunch (chicken and kidney beans)

13h30-15h30: Answering to another slew of emails, and wasting a precious hour on Internet that I shouldn’t have wasted on Internet.

15h30-16h00: Went to the pharmacy, only to realize all shops close from 13h00 to 16h00. Shows how often I’ve been shopping around here.

16h00-16h30: Read a book completely unrelated to anything I’m doing here (The Wheel of Time, book 1, actually).

16h30-17h30: Fell sleep from too little sleep during the last few days.

17h30-18h00: Prepare JY class that’s been moved from Saturday night to tonight (the result of my birthday party).

18h00-18h30: Supper (sandwiches).

18h30-19h00: Commute (car). Stop to buy cookies for the JY.

19h00- 21h00: Junior Youth class. Students: 8. Topic: service to others. Completely huge tangent in the discussion: equality between men and women. Result: disaster.

I’m not the one who brought it up. They did. And it’s a hard topic to discuss fairly when each man here has at least two wives, and each wife stays at home and cooks and makes babies. I’m not kidding. Made me wonder why in the world they were even allowing me to teach them anything. Anyway. They ARE still great kids and a great little village. There are just things in their traditions that they haven’t even considered questioning yet, and that’s one of them.

Needless to say it was a rather emotional evening when I came home. (Not in front of the students. Ever. I’m hard up against flipping out while students are present.)

21h00-21h30: Commute home.

21h30-22h00: Discussion on cultural differences and views on roles of men and women in each of our different cultures.

22h00-00h00: Preparing for next day’s lessons. Bed.

Note: this was supposed to be my day off. That didn’t really happen. Must discipline myself to 1), plan Tuesday classes on Sunday nights, and 2), not do ANYTHING on Mondays (except the morning tutorials – those are fun). Really. So that I can completely relax, guilt-free. For example, last Monday I escaped for an hour and a half by the river to read, where there were no distractions whatsoever. I should do that more often.

Peaceful Reading Spot 

Sunday Log

6h30: Wake up

6h30-8h30: Roam around, watch Scooby-Doo with the kids (as they do this every Sunday morning – I’m actually starting to like it). Then the older kids watch something called Galactik Football (cartoon lovers, click here for a description), which has pretty nifty animation.

8h30-9h00: Class preparation.

9h00-10h30: French class. My favourite French class, actually. Students: 9. Topic: different verbs and common actions. The most awesome moment: I popped a surprise syllable dictation on them. (these are ladies that can’t read and write). ALL of them got the syllables perfectly. We are making progress! HAPPINESS!

10h30-11h15: Drive BACK home because I forgot something. Crud.

11h15-11h25: Pick up Sosie (girl from PK-10) and drive to the other nearby village, Boussiman.

11h30-12h30: Younger children’s class. Students: 5. Topic: helping others. Nifty thing: one of the apparently “troublemaker” 12 year old boys helped me with discipline. He’s never been trouble to me. Just hard to get motivated. And now I think I have him motivated. Yay!

12h30-13h45: Older children’s class. Students: 6. Topic: Boudhism/Bouddha. Presented to them the Golden Rules of multiple religions (click here for more on that). Drew mandalas with a brief explanation on using mandalas as a meditative device.

13h45-14h00: Lunch (rice, spinach-kind of thing, and …. armadillo.)

…
But it was good!

14h00-15h00: French class. Students: 7. Topic: same as above.

15h00-16h00: Advanced French class / deepening on the Writings of the Baha’i Faith. These men are Baha’is, and we figured we can combine practicing reading and text comprehension while studying texts discussing the Faith.

16h00-17h00: Organized delegate election. Not very easy when most voters can’t read or write. Which is why I and the two men of the previous class helped. A lot.

17h00-17h15: Drive back to PK-10.

17h15-18h00: Bit of free time, and supper (banana and chicken claw soup).

18h00-18h30: Commute back home (car) with Irène, other PK-10 girl with whom I spend most of my free time.

18h30-19h00: Run around the house like a headless chicken (again) as we all try to finish organizing out multi faith prayer meeting on Unity (today was World Religions’ Day – click here for more info)

19h00-20h30: World Religion Day prayer meeting. Participants: 10.

21h00-21h45: Drove Irène back to PK-10, and came back home.

21h45-22h30: Supper (but not me – that banana chicken-claw soup was filling, thank you …). Discussed a bit of the weekend’s events all together. Got a raspberry birthday pie. I think I mentioned ONCE that raspberry was one of my favourite fruits. But Jackie had remembered.

22h30-00h30: Laundry, shower, answered to an onslaught of (wonderful) birthday emails. Thanks guys. I love you too.

00h30: Bed.

Saturday Log

8h30: Wake up

8h30-11h00: Run around like a headless chicken planning Sunday’s prayer meeting, packing for the weekend.

11h00-11h30: Remembered to eat breakfast.

11h30-14h00: Finished preparing the prayer meeting and packing and preparing for the weekend.

14h00-14h30: Commuting to village (car).

14h30-15h00: Get attacked by 15 children all yelling happy birthday and throwing home-made confetti.

15h00-16h00: Younger children’s class. Students: 5. Topic: Helping others. Neat thing: the kids requested we write down class rules and hang it up in the carbet. Here are the rules they came up by themselves: 1) no hitting, 2) ask teacher permission to get up and go pee, 3) listen when someone else is talking, 4) no vulgar words or gestures.

16h00-17h30: Older children’s class. Students: 6. Topic: Zoroastrianism/Zoroaster. Had a fun geography game too (to give them an idea of where in the world all these different religions come from). Played a little bit of dreidel as we learned about Judaism last week.

A dreidel.

17h30-18h30: Had adults and youth sneakily come up to me and say things like, Oh, do you mind if we start the class a teensy bit later, and, Would you mind if the delegate election didn’t happen tonight (this coming from a guy who’s on the National Spiritual Assembly …) . Finally got steered into a house to watch the soap opera all women around here watch. This NEVER happens in the village usually. Not when I’m there, anyway. Something was definitely up.

18h30-19h30: Got kept in the house by a girl who claimed it was high time I get my hair styled. As she was doing whatever she was doing, I had a clear view of the carbet where the kids and youth were tying up christmas lights (I don’t think I was supposed to have that clear view). Halfway through a youth came into the house, looked at the girl doing my hair, and did an attempted subtle thumbs down. The girl piped up: You know what, that’s not a nice style. Let’s try something else! At the same time, I could see the kids and youth having a hard time with the lights.

19h30-23h30: Not-so-surprise birthday party. Forget JY class and delegate elections. Moved those two to Monday night.

Birthday specifics:

• A lady steered me into her house not long before we started the party and showed me the BASIN of noodles and chicken she and the other women cooked. I’ve never seen a basin full of noodles. It was impressive.

• The family where I’m staying has the most youth of the village, which is probably WHY I’m staying in that house. The father gave me a carving as a present. I’m really grateful, as I know they make their living off of them, and they don’t have much.

• Apparently I have potential to dance their traditional dance. The girls and ladies have been working on my moves for the past few weeks already. My hips are getting better at it. But my butt? How in the world do you wiggle it in four different directions all at the same time?!? I think the muscles needed were never developed in my case!

My dance teachers. (And on the left if my “hairstylist”.)

• This was interesting. The party started with the kids all clamoring over the drums and making lots of noise. None of the youth and adults participated. But about an hour later, the kids sort of naturally dwindled away, and the youth took over the drums and dancing. Then a little while later, the adults joined in. Apparently that’s the way it always goes. Had I been lucky the good drummers would have been there and played traditional music, but they had a gig that night! So we had a sound system blaring Caribbean and Saramacca music and drummed and danced to that instead.

Par-tay in the carbet.

The late partiers.

• After going to bed at midnight, I could hear the oldest youth playing our rap riff over and over and softly practicing his lyrics, until 1:30am. That was neat to hear. I felt it was a little hard to get these boys enthusiastic, but I think they’re just playing hard-to-impress, while deep down they actually like what we’re doing. (YOU try, as a not-so-hip young adult lady, getting 7 teenage guys enthused about stuff they like but you don’t know much of – like writing a rap.)

Da boyz of da hood.

Other Happy Moments II

“As regards the celebration of the Christian Holidays by the believers: it is surely preferable and even highly advisable that the friends should in their relation to each other discontinue observing such holidays as Christmas and New Year, and to have their festal gatherings of this nature instead during the intercalary days and Naw-Ruz.

Further, there is no objection to Bahá’ís’ attending religious marriage ceremonies of their friends and relatives or take part in festivities usually connected with these events …” — (The Universal House of Justice, 1998 Dec 16, Traditional practices in Africa)

There. I said it. I don’t celebrate Christmas unless I have friends and family who invite me to a celebration. Which was the case every year, except, of course, this year. This was my first time with no Christmas tree, candles, presents, over-abundance of Holiday music. And you know what? I still had a very nice Christmas.

Why my 25th of December was nice anyway:

• my private French writing student didn’t show up in the morning. Aaahhhh, a free morning!
• only one child showed up for the children’s class in the afternoon – but she SO wanted to come and see us. We had fun.

(let it be known these two classes were scheduled by the students themselves)

• Wrote a piano, bass, and drum kit accompaniment for an all-girls Junior Youth class this afternoon. Had a ball.

Why my 26th of December is following suit:

• three boys from PK-10 (the village) came over – by BIKE (took ‘em about 45 minutes) – to work on their Rap. The plan was to check out the lyrics, but we got into the music instead, and these boys had a knack at clearly stating their ideas, with no musical theory training whatsoever. Last weekend, they were discouraged because they found out how hard it really was to create something of good quality. Today, they were hopeful.
• I got half an apple:

(apples are rare here. mmmmm, apple)

• I got a cheap date. I mean, I got cheap dates!:

(a story we’re studying with the girls’ group this afternoon includes dates, and they had never tasted them before)

• I’m about to go work with a group of girls who put a prayer to music (see Dec. 25th reasons to be happy), and I’m really, really looking forward to this class.

Visual Aid II

So! Instead of weighing everyone down with words again, here are some images other than flowers and skies (and cats): PEOPLE! (finally!)

My stay in PK-10 this weekend was definitely not uneventful, but if I still find the stories relevant in a few days, I’ll write them then.

It was a dark and RAINY night in PK-10 …

(click on picture for the lot of them)

 

 

 

 

 

One month.

So, it’s been a month. This is the longest I’ve been away from home (alone), and the longest I’ve been out of the country, never mind the continent. Once again, I find myself obliged to change the form of the post to make it less heavy, so here goes.

What I’ve learned this month:

• You CAN wash clothes in the sink.
• No matter how filthy and dirty you think you are from the heat, the sweat, and all, men will still hit on you.
• Guyanese mosquitoes are one of the most voracious things ever.
• Mosquitoes like ankles. A lot.
• You can learn the long obligatory prayer by heart when faced with the fact that the only time and place you can recite it privately in the village is past 11pm, in your dark room, with no electricity. (For those who don’t know, that prayer’s about 7 pages long, pocket-book size).
• Comfort is a luxury. You can so live without it. And still be happy. (got food? you’re clean and healthy? good.)
• Dwelling on the comfort you used to have will only make you homesick.
• Palm trees will never replace pine trees and maple trees (mmmm, Autumn colours), but they sure are nice too.
• People with less give more.
• Praying and thinking positively brings wonderful results.
• Bikes rock.
• Yoga rocks too.
• Bow hair goes floppy in such humidity; so does paper. Everything you own MUST be put away. Paper CAN become too floppy to print on if left outside of its designated sealed box.
• I can learn to like Rap. Really. I don’t have a choice. My six teenage boys group want to write one. And I’ll be creating the beat and riff and all.
• Your body adapts. Always. Who knew I, who loves winter, could get used to humid 30C (86F), with intense equatorial jungle sun?
• Did I mention jungle? I didn’t realize that I’m living on the edge of the Amazonian tropical jungle. Niiiiiiiice.
• It is possible to spend a whole month without buying chocolate. (but today I just had to.)

Animals and where I’ve found them:

• Tabby orange cat, roaming around the house, giving me the chance to have a kitty fix once in a while
• Green and blue lizards, on the walls (oh, and seeing them scuttle on the slippery tiled floor and consequentially going nowhere is pretty funny to see)
• Newts, also in the house
• Cockroaches, in the house: hunting them down with your shoe is a national sport
• Sticky frogs, also in the house
• Rats, in the kitchen area of the village house, and pretty much in my school bag where I kept my bread (I like rats, but I don’t want a wild one to nip my toes in the dark!)
• Mosquitoes; everywhere
• Really colourful birds

…hm, maybe I should start taking pictures of some of those animals …

Random statistics:

• number of children’s classes I give per week: 6
• number of French classes I give per week (most for illiterate women): 6
• number of Junior Youth groups I facilitate: 2
• approximate number of total students: 89 (still missing stats on two French classes) – now think about trying to learn all those names which are all particular, like Kwantie and Doekoe, and Lantikoesoe and Koedoemoedoe … wheeeeee! And then you fall on the occasional Brandon, Jordan, Mathieu, Françoise, and all, and feel quite at ease for some reason.

And one lengthy post later, here we are.