That being said, I am incredibly apathetic towards language including my native tongues. I feel most comfortable in my Danburian Spanglish. Despite my five plus years of French (albeit the majority in high school), I struggle to say “I need a cup of rice” on some days. On any given day, I may be addressed in any of the following in Badou: Ewe, Akposso, Kabiye, or Kotokoli. I play it cool, slip in my “So be do?” and “Eee” and “Wesans” when I can. Rather, I can say “how are you;” “yes” or “okay;” and “welcome.” As one can imagine, my communication with many people (all those who have had little to no schooling) is largely, if not entirely, based on body language – hand gestures, pointing, fervent nodding, and the like. There are the routine minutes with my neighbors when they try to teach me new phrases. Tonight I learned, “Abvle” (good morning) and “Azaa” (good night) in Akposso. I ate dinner with a friend’s family last night during which I received an impromptu language lesson from their 4-year old daughter. I wish all my language teachers had been as charming as little Denise.
Why is this important? Well, when you’re trying to inspire honest participation (a la Sherry Arnstien) you want the people who you’re speaking with to understand you (and be able to respond) without the need of a translator. It is hackneyed to say thus, but some frankness will be lost in translation. I spent a few hours this afternoon at a community meeting in one of the 11 quartiers of Badou. These past two weeks, I’ve been going around with the Mayor’s office to the neighborhoods to get a feel for what people would like to see change in their most immediate surroundings. The mayor’s office chose to call our group a “delegation” –I don’t think I’m spiritually prepared to be part of a bureaucracy just yet (despite the obvious transgression I’ve already made). Naturally, the majority of the meeting was held in Akposso, and only for my benefit was French involved at all. As I started to talk, I awkwardly apologized for not speaking the native tongue; “il faut m’excuser…” I tried looking around to as many faces as I could in order to get a feel for their perception of me – will their facial expressions give their thoughts away? I wanted to ask them what they would change, what they envision for Badou. These words were then left to the mercy of the translator. From this point on, I sat in my chair catching the few French words used and piecing together the meeting. The mayor would give me brief 2 minute summaries of 30 minute dialogue. The granmammas in the crowd would grant me a smile and I imagined grand schemes of becoming fluent in Akposso and leading a Jane Jacobs, West Village, community charge. I do still have 18 months.
Another item I’ve been tinkering with the last two weeks is a trash collection project. Along with the Affaires Sociales and the Mayor’s office we are coordinating the beginning steps, the planning stage, the ground work for community wide trash collection. Edmond (Affaires Sociales) has had this idea for some time. While the idea of funded projects makes me a bit uneasy, now that I’ve started, I am really excited! Like really. Our vision: have a day (or week or month) of “A Clean Badou” initiative, wherein voluntary participants will collect trash in some key places in town (the market, large primary schools, the middle school, etc.); use large pushcarts to collect trash household-to-household; and find a more environmentally friendly way of disposing the waste. The last item will prove the most difficult. What’s an “environmentally friendly way” of getting rid of vast amounts of plastic sachets? Right now, we are concentrating on building a motivated committee of leaders to lead the waste management expedition.
Oh and lastly, MORINGA. Can it really be that cool? My friend Maxim and I have started some seedlings expecting to distribute them to farming groups. We are also trying to get an information session planned. Some people believe this is a saving grace to many areas struggling with malnutrition, so this is our bid to support the movement – we’re planting trees.
Maxim also breakdances, writes music, and aspires to be a “Pop-Star comme Michael Jackson”– a tale for another time.
