By popular request I am allowed to contribute something to the blog for
the first time, so here goes as a virgin blogger! A few people have been
wondering what my job is all about. There have been times when I have wondered
too. I am, in fact, one of a group of 13 international volunteers working on the
VSO education programme in the Far North of Cameroon. The other vols are
French-Canadian apart from one girl who is Portuguese. We are all female apart
from one young man who holds his own very nicely amongst us females. The
international volunteers are working in pairs with national volunteers who are
supposed to ease the way for les blancs, helping with any logistical,
linguistic or cultural problems. My job has been slow to get started as many
formal introductions and explanations have had to be made before I can get my
teeth into anything. My little homologue or counterpart is a sort of African
Del-boy with fingers in many pies with his aim being to make as much money and
gain much status as possible in the community. He has proved to be very
unreliable- in the last week, he has made 5 arrangements to meet me and has
either turned up very late or not at all. I finally had a controlled(?)
explosion and announced that if he did not appear within an hour of the
appointed time, I would be leaving! I am not sure where I would have gone as my
options are pretty limited here but the message obviously got through and he
arrived at 7.30 am today clutching the biggest pumpkin I have ever
seen. Now I feel bad but at least we got some planning done and work can
progress this week. The aim of the education programme is to gather information
about primary education in the Far North, with each volunteer working with about
four schools. We will be looking at attendance, facilities, class sizes, support
from the community, quality of teaching (many teachers are unqualified)
etc. Results will be analysed and a 5-year development plan will be put
together for each school, depending on its needs and priorities. My schools are
2,7,9 and 11 kms away from home base and have to be reached by motor bike apart
from the first one. This is where my homologue comes in handy. He hires his
brother’s moto at an exorbitant rate and at VSO expense to transport the old
Nasara. It took 45 mins to cover 7kms to Membeng over what is really a rough
foot path. With my sense of direction, I would never find these places myself. I
travel through fascinating countryside with mud hut homes practically hidden by
crops. It looks deserted and yet hundreds of children appear from the bush every
day to attend school. Unfortunately few of these children are girls and that is
really what is behind the education programme. We female volunteers are here to
act as role models for the girls and their parents. It is interesting that not
one of the national volunteers is female.
I think we face an uphill struggle, as parents do not see the point in
educating girls because they are likely to marry young or be more useful at
home, cooking, looking after animals or sick relatives. I have yet to meet a
girl who minds but it is early days.
Last week I was invited to the closest school to take part in
International Teachers’ Day. The day before, I trundled along at break time to
ask if I could do anything to help or make a contribution. When I arrived the
headteacher and staff were in the staffroom ie lying under a tree! Much to my
discomfort a chair was brought for me-I would have been happier on the ground
with the others. During break an old woman arrived with a large basin of
chickpeas, straight off the fire. The staff (and a passing sheep) helped
themselves to handfuls which they consumed while discussing what they were
willing to pay for them. In the end, the old woman got the equivalent of 20p and
went off quite happily. In answer to my question about a contribution, the
headteacher immediately suggested that I buy beer! By this time the half hour
break had stretched to 45 minutes before the head summoned a child to bang the
dustbin lid that serves as a bell and all returned to class.
Teachers’ Day dawned and my homologue came to collect me-only an hour and
a half late this time. On this occasion, I was shown into the headteacher’s
compound. They all seem to live on site. There the 3 female teachers (a rarity)
were preparing the meal over a wood fire. There were two pots, one containing
the legs and heads of chickens! I was not invited to sample these but would have
given it a go if asked. Those of you who know me well, know that I will try any
kind of food. After a while it was announced that we would go off to fetch the
beer on motos. When we got back with the crates strapped to the bikes, the
headteacher’s wife (a member of staff) appeared from behind the hut having just
had a wash. The head himself then thought he should have a bit of a scrub and
disappeared briefly to reappear in his suit. The meal eventually got underway in
a classroom. A basin of water and bar of soap were brought for handwashing while
the meal was served on plates on the floor. My meal was washed down with juice
as they obviously thought I would not drink beer. While we ate, I became aware of the fact
that children were gathering at the door. They were allowed to come in when we
had finished eating and eat what we had left on our plates. Children come last
in the great scheme of things here, while at home our children get the very best
that we can provide. Child abuse is common and we have already encountered it.
One of the teachers I have visited at work carries a large stick for discipline
purposes.
Well, that is my job so far. I feel I am being paid for doing very little
while Hamish slogs for hours at the hospital, struggling with French and
Fulfulde and not being paid at all so far. Those of you who wanted to know about
my job might now be sorry and settle for the bits Hamish delivers normally! We
feel hugely privileged to be here. Bye for now or am I a
redundant blogger?
Anne x
PS I am off to check the biggest pumpkin in the world which I have halved
and laid out in the sun to sweeten as per instructions. Hope the lizards don’t
get it before we do!
