Great Ideas: Fridays in an African Classroom

I read other blogs to get ideas. One of my favorite Science Fiction blogs, Topless Robot, likes to post really bad fanfic on Fridays (be wary, this stuff will make you really worry about the future of humanity). Now, I'm not going to do that here. However, the idea of regularly posting on the same theme one day a week I thought was a great idea. Since I am an anthropologist who works in Africa I thought perhaps maybe posts about Africa, Africans, and African culture - materials that could be used in the classroom - might be a good theme for Friday blog posts. And as a secondary factor, it helps me save material in one spot that I might use in the future to teach about Africa, Africans, and African culture (which is not some monolithic country BTW, there are some people that think this sadly).

Today I start with one of my favorite videos - Binta y la Gran Idea (Binta and the Great Idea). I used it spring term 2009 in my Introductory Anthropology class as it speaks to rural life in contemporary Senegal. Themes of gender roles, education, modernization, sustainability, love, kin, and what it means to be human are explored through the eyes of a little girl named Binta. The great idea, referred to in the title, comes from her father.

The 31 minute long movie is dubbed, as the actors speak French and Diola. Spanish director Javier Fesser shot this movie in cooperation with UNICEF and the Senegalese in 2004. The film is boxed with 12 other short films and 100% of the profits from the sales go to UNICEF in perpetuity. I have linked to the video and trailer below - both with English and Spanish subtitles. More information about the film and the numerous awards it has won are on the Short Film Central database.

Two stories interweave in Binta's narrative. The first story is that of her cousin Soda. Soda desperately wants to attend school, but her father believes girls don't need an education. Binta and her classmates produce a play for the entire community that shows the benefits of education for both boys and girls. I don't want to give away what happens, but this story does end happily.

The second story follows Binta's father, a fisherman. The movie opens with him talking to a friend about European fishing and efficiency. Binta's father is alarmed at the loss of community and their unsustainable resource use practices. He develops an idea that takes him from the local district government all the way to the governor's office. Again, I don't want to give away the ending, however, it is a surprising twist on the normal cultural exchange between industrialized and non-industrialized cultures. Let's just say that Binta's father proposes a wonderful way to school children from industrialized countries so that they can grow up to be good people. :) My intro anthropology students loved it.

Here is a link to the wiki on Binta y la Gran Idea if you want to know the ending.

English Subtitles:


Spanish Subtitles:
Part 1

Part 2

Part 3


Trailer (Spanish subtitles only):

A Scholarly Rite of Passage

It has been a long time since I've posted regularly to my blog (barring today's earlier post). I have been writing, analyzing, scrutinizing, and banging my head against the keyboard in general. But now it is done.

Writing, the last stage of the doctoral journey, is probably the loneliest part. At least while I was doing field research I was surrounded by people and outdoors. Writing up my results put me indoors day after day after day, tied to a computer screen. Ugh! Actually double ugh, since writing about Mozambique made me long to be there AND I have an awful time sitting still for extended periods.

The short of it, is that on Monday at 12:30ish, my committee congratulated me on becoming a doctor in the philosophy of anthropology. But there is a bit of back story, there is always a story.

I gave the public part of my defense on Thursday, 29 October. At 9am that morning I received an email from a committee member letting me know he was really ill and asking to see if we could set up a speaker phone. UGA has rules, of course, about attendance of committee members at doctoral defenses. They've been a little relaxed this Fall term because of swine flu. We did get the speaker phone set up but there was an hour or so of panic.

My friends from the department showed up - a lot of them - as well as a number of professors that aren't even on my committee. I was soooo nervous to present. Not hyperventilating nervous, but I swallowed a jar of butterflies and crawly beetles nervous. It is way easier to present someone else's work (teaching class) or to a group of strangers or teens.

The presentation went off without a hitch. I calmed down as the presentation wore on. People asked interesting questions at the end. I got to talk about rain ceremonies, fire, historic ethnography, etc. One of the professors, a good friend, suggested that elephants be enlisted to put out wildfires since the folks in Madjadjane and Gala lack a fire department. He got to laughing and it was really difficult for me to keep a straight face as I answered other questions.

My committee and the listening public

Then it was over. The committee members in physical attendance seemed happy. But I still had the dreaded "closed door" defense. This was postponed until Monday, 2 November. UGA had a furlough day on Friday, so yes, I had to wait an entire weekend to know the final outcome. To be fair, the folks in my department and my major adviser are not the type of people who would let me defend without a good chance that I would pass. But there is always that off chance.

On Monday, my entire committee promptly began the final interrogation at 11am. I was asked to leave briefly at the beginning so that they could discuss procedures with the newest faculty member (this was his first defense as a faculty member). Then I was brought in for the grilling. It wasn't bad. Basically we discussed my dissertation - the theoretical bits and some other loose nuts and bolts that needed tightening. Everyone was really helpful. However, I was so anxious that my mind went completely blank. I recognized they were speaking English and I understood each word individually, but I could not comprehend what they were asking. It was like when I meet someone I know and I don't remember their name. My mind is dark and foggy. Same in this instance but worse. I must have said something acceptable.

At the end, they asked me to leave for about 15 minutes. When I entered, they congratulated me and then we discussed in detail the revisions I need to make before the final submission of my dissertation to the graduate school.

I'm still stunned and kind of out of it. I'm not really sure what to do next. I mean I am applying for jobs and postdocs, but in the great grand scheme of things... now what?

More adventures.

More good people

I spoke to my father in-law on Sunday. I was the one who had to inform him that he would soon be my ex-father in-law (pretty shitty situation). He told me that he felt bad about the situation and would always consider me part of his family. That was a good thing to hear. Mike is a terrific person, a little gruff and rough around the edges, but I find that some of the best people are. Enough of that though. It's not what I wanted to blog about today.

Mike and I got talking about my blog and he mentioned that I should consider creating a website for the people of Madjadjane and Gala. To show where they are, what their life is like, that sort of thing. I think it's a great idea. It would also be a great opportunity to advertise the two ecotourism lodges that they run in those communities.

First graders receive perfect attendance certificates at Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz Primary School in Colonia San Antonio.

The reason this came up is that Mike mentioned he is webmaster for a group called Niños de la Calle. It is a charitable group that helps children living in Colonia San Antonio in Nuevo Progresso, Mexico. The website he created for the group also shows what life is like for children in this community.

Mike works at San Antonio Academy in San Antonio, Texas. Children at the school gather together school supplies, clothes, toys, money, etc. to send to their counterparts across the border. Niños de la Calle also accepts funds and supplies from outsiders to help support children in the colonia community. One of their big projects is sending children in this impoverished community to school. It costs $75 to send one child to school for a year - uniform and school fees. I know from my own experience in Mozambique that families in places like Madjadjane, Gala, and Colonia San Antonio will make huge sacrifices to send their children to school. And the children want to go - unlike many kids in the US where school is free.

Good People

Where’d all the good people go?
I’ve been changing channels and I don’t see them on the tv shows.
Where’d all the good people go?
We’ve got heaps and heaps of what we sow.

- Jack Johnson, Good People

The United States doesn't exactly have the best of reputations in the world right now. I frequently find myself cringing when people bring up the war in Iraq, and sometimes even apologizing for the stupidity of my government (for various reasons). But I am always quick to point out that the people of the United States, it's citizens, are not the government. At least not anymore. I am really proud to say that good people do still exist in the United States and I wanted to devote a little space here to point out a couple.

A number of people read my blog and have sent enquiries about helping out the communities where I work. This blog is devoted to them.

First there is Kesshi. I don't know his real name, but I met him online at a news conglomeration site. We may not always see eye to eye, but he has a good heart. At Christmas, he dropped me an email to see if I needed a laptop. He was buying one of the "One Child, One Laptop" computers and the company was offering a deal. Buy one, get a second for reduced price sent anywhere in the world. It hasn't yet arrived, but when it does the computer will go to the primary school in Madjadjane. I wish I had a second one to give to the primary school in Gala, but maybe by the time I return for more research I will have another to donate.
Children of Escola Primaria de Madjadjane with Professor Adriano
The next group I would like to give a shout out to is the Stone Street Presbyterian Church of Watertown, NY. This is my parents' church. I gave a presentation to the church about my research and the communities where I work this past January. Many of the people in the church are farmers or retired farmers, and they were very interested in the farming done in southern Mozambique. The congregation regularly raises and donates money for famine and disaster relief, but this time they decided to donate some money to learning. They sent me money enough to buy notebooks, pencils, pens, maps, and other school supplies to give to both the primary schools in Gala and Madjadjane. I have already given the school directors the maps and some books which they were really happy to get. At Gala, the world map was at least 25 years old - the USSR was still shown as a country. Tomorrow I am off to buy some books and general classroom equipment.

As a side historical note, the Presbyterian Church (and other church groups) has always taken an interest in Mozambican education. Some of the revolutionary leaders that fought for Independence were educated in Presbyterian schools. The state education system prior to Independence offered education to black Mozambicans up to grade 3 and no classes were taught in local languages - unlike the church supported schools.
Class in Escola Primaria de Gala
Finally, I want to thank my parents. Both taught school for a combined (minimum) 70+ years and are now retired. However, they still are very concerned with education and learning and children. Education and learning has always been a priority in my family. It was always "When you go to university..." not "If you go to university...". Learning opens the doors to many opportunities and cannot be taken away from you. When they heard about the conditions of teachers and schools in the communities where I work AND that my field assistant was working so that he could pay to finish high school, they decided to send me some money to help out. Their donation will help with buying classroom books and equipment, repairing the teacher's house and school roof, and send my assistant on to finish his final year of high school. I already put money in the community bank for my assistant, Salema, to continue school for the next 3 years, but this last bit will help him attend the final year of school in Maputo. As for the teacher's house and school roof, both roofs leak and there are no windows, so hopefully they will be able to make some repairs. As a former teacher myself, I know how difficult it can be to teach if you aren't sleeping well or are living in poor conditions.

Good people do still exist, but many times they don't know where or how to help others. Many times their donations don't end up with those who need it most. The chief of Madjadjane spent over an hour explaining to me how monies donated to charity often end up lining the pockets of people in Maputo or the money is just used to help the poor in Maputo and never makes it out to the provinces. He told me that it is better when people donate directly and the brancos come and deliver the materials themselves - so no one is taking a cut. Despite all the running around I have done in the past couple of days, I am happy that I could facilitate the donations.

I want to end with one of my favorite quotes about learning and education. School is not free in Mozambique and many parents save up to send their children to school - all the while earning less than $1 USD per day. They want their children to have choices in the future.

You have to study and learn so that you can make up your own mind about history and everything else, but you can't make up an empty mind. Stock your mind, stock your mind. It is your house of treasure and no one in the world can interfere with it. You might be poor, your shoes might be broken, but your mind is a palace.

- Frank McCourt, Angela's Ashes

A tribute to my Dad, McGuyver's alter-ego in a strange parallel universe

Do you ever have one of those moments when you're really proud of something that you've done, that really isn't that spectacular, but you really need to share it and no one is around? Well, I just had one of those.

So my birthday is drawing to a close, I have "la gripe," I had 4 meetings with student research assistants this morning, and my shower was on the blink. The meetings with students went really well - mini-projects about ethnobotanic knowledge transmission, a study on the impact of REM on health and traditional medicine, historic climate change and bad weather, assessing the importance of plants in choosing home sites. My Portuguese is improving in leaps and bounds. The students and I are still speaking both, but mainly to make sure that what we are saying is completely understood by both parties. The percentage of understanding is rapidly increasing. Yay!

My second big score was having my family back home contact me to wish me a happy birthday. That really felt good. Thanks to everyone for the phone calls and e-cards. I also had friends here text me birthday greetings throughout the day.

But my proudest moment came when I fixed my damn shower all by myself. And for this I thank my Dad who turned 80 on 8 April. Since arriving, the water pressure from the shower head has never been great. I just assumed that it was just the way things were. But after not using the shower for the weekend (I was at REM, not just being gross), the pressure decreased even more to just a trickle. So, being my father's daughter, I decided to have a closer look. It was scaling caused by the extremely hard water. My guess is that by not using the shower over the weekend, any residual water crystalized up and there was no regular water flow to push out this new formation. I'm sure a real plumber could explain it better.

Scaling is something that I am used to, having grown up with well water full of stuff like calcium and iron and sulphur. I asked myself, "What would my dad do?" Well, take the damn thing apart and soak it in some sulphuric acid that just happens to be lying around the house (as my brother well knows). Or just soak the head if you can't remove it and pick at the scaling with a wire brush or toothpick or pin or something. I had found a small container and was prepping the head to soak it, when I discovered that it was screwed on. Even better.

So using acetic acid (aka vinegar), a Swiss army knife with flat head screwdriver attachment, a cereal bowl, a dental pick, and bubble gum, I have a fully operational shower head!!! Yay!! Now I feel completely silly for being so proud over something so simple, but I will be clean. Thanks Dad for teaching me some simple home and car repairs, letting me tag along when you fixed stuff, and for that old type-writer you brought home for me when I was 7 to tear apart and see how it worked. That's cool.

My dad is a big one for gadgets too. He gave me a hand-crank flashlight before I left for Mozambique that has been very useful - esp. this past weekend. My Mozambicans colleagues thought it was a little silly and really thought that the screwdriver attachments were over the top. However, the phillips head attachment came in handy when Sr. Jotamo wanted to fix a wobbly handle on one of the cook pots. When he saw how well the little tool worked, he set about fixing all the cooking pot handles. So, thanks again Dad for all the little tools and gadgets that you've gotten me over the years.

The bubble gum, by the way, was just to chew. ;-P I didn't actually use it for fixing the shower head. I only wish fixing my flu were as easy. I really hate being sick.

Sunday Afternoon in Maputo

The cool temperatures (mid 70s) and overcast skies made Maputo quite pleasant today. I'm not sure where the stormy weather came from - perhaps a tail from Cyclone Indlala that is sacking Madagascar right now. KwaZulu-Natal had some freakish weather earlier this week that killed several people. Then, there is the shitstorm that has been heating up Zimbabwe over the past few years.


Coconut vendors - A good drink at the beach.

A couple of hard-bargaining beach salesmen. They tried to get me a few minutes later, but I had no money. They also didn't realize that I knew the current SA Rand to US Dollars to Moz. Metacais exchange rates and can calculate that sort of thing in my head.

Futebol is very popular. Most players are barefoot, but check out the red socks on the guy in the second picture.



Boys with new toys. Kids here are pretty inventive and imaginative. I guess that's what happens when you don't have much access to t.v., video games, and money to buy lots of toys. The toys kids make here are pretty cool.


Future DJ

One more since this kid was such a ham.


These ladies were having a great time gossiping and laughing despite the back-breaking chore of washing clothes by hand and fetching water. They loved it when I tested out my Changaan. The adults seemed pleasantly surprised that I could say hello respectfully and tell them that I was a student of their language and culture in Changaan. The children found the mulunga (white person) who could speak their language hysterical - almost to the point of ROTGL.

Since it is a Sunday afternoon, these kids may be working just to give their parents or grandparents a day off. But maybe not. School is not free in Mozambique. It costs money for tuition, uniforms, supplies, and books. Parents struggle to send their kids to school. I don't know what the fees and supplies cost, but the average yearly salary is maybe 200-300 USD. On regular school days, I often see children working - selling cashews, newspapers, oranges. Other children work with their parents and sell food at the markets. Orphaned children beg and will carry your groceries at Mercado Central in exchange for a few metacais. School, in general, is not free in southern Africa. Pretoria had a student group march and run amok on Friday demanding free education for South African students.


Famba khwatsi.