Solstice! Et autres petites commentaires...
Despite the fact that I am in a place where the sun shines 12 hours per day nearly all year round, I'm still happy knowing that it's solstice today, and that the short, dark days at home in Maine will soon be growing longer. Happy Solstice, everyone!
Some commentary from the past few days:
After a week of working in Yaoundé, I traveled back to Dschang this past Saturday. I managed to hitch a ride with Jean Nkengsa, a native of Doumbouo, the village where I worked in 2006, as he and his wife were making the trip from Yaoundé to visit briefly before the holidays and delivery Christmas gifts. The trip was long, but pleasurable – not only because the backseat of a Land Rover is an improvement over the ¾ of a seat I'd otherwise have occupied in a row of a bush taxi, but also because the air temperature and humidity dropped as we climbed into the highlands of the West.
Upon arriving in Dschang, we stopped by Jean's mother's bar, right in the center of Dschang, for a beer. The day before, students throughout Cameroon had received their semester grade reports. There is something incredible in the way that an entire community will celebrate the success of their students. In sitting drinking my Pilsner (a new beer made by Guinness, which is VASTLY better than any of the other pale, water beers available), I watched the celebration ensue: a middle-aged man stepped into the doorway of the bar and beamed as he announced to Jean's maman that his daughter had passed her final exams. (It should be noted that in the Francophone regions of Cameroon, schools function in a French system, with high rates of failure and repetition. Though there is a certain amount of shame associated with having to repeat a grade, it's accepted as a normal part of going through school here.)
So, this man arrived, announced his daughter's success, hugged la maman, shook the hands of all present – all the while beaming – and then departed, undoubtedly to continue spreading the news around town. Meanwhile, each time a newcomer arrived at the bar (and we were there for hours), les mamans would announce the man's daughter's success, and there was cheering and dancing – all in her honor.
Imagine what the state of education in Cameroon – and the entire world, for that matter – would be if government officials shared the same pride and enthusiasm for their childrens' successes.
Some commentary from the past few days:
After a week of working in Yaoundé, I traveled back to Dschang this past Saturday. I managed to hitch a ride with Jean Nkengsa, a native of Doumbouo, the village where I worked in 2006, as he and his wife were making the trip from Yaoundé to visit briefly before the holidays and delivery Christmas gifts. The trip was long, but pleasurable – not only because the backseat of a Land Rover is an improvement over the ¾ of a seat I'd otherwise have occupied in a row of a bush taxi, but also because the air temperature and humidity dropped as we climbed into the highlands of the West.
Upon arriving in Dschang, we stopped by Jean's mother's bar, right in the center of Dschang, for a beer. The day before, students throughout Cameroon had received their semester grade reports. There is something incredible in the way that an entire community will celebrate the success of their students. In sitting drinking my Pilsner (a new beer made by Guinness, which is VASTLY better than any of the other pale, water beers available), I watched the celebration ensue: a middle-aged man stepped into the doorway of the bar and beamed as he announced to Jean's maman that his daughter had passed her final exams. (It should be noted that in the Francophone regions of Cameroon, schools function in a French system, with high rates of failure and repetition. Though there is a certain amount of shame associated with having to repeat a grade, it's accepted as a normal part of going through school here.)
So, this man arrived, announced his daughter's success, hugged la maman, shook the hands of all present – all the while beaming – and then departed, undoubtedly to continue spreading the news around town. Meanwhile, each time a newcomer arrived at the bar (and we were there for hours), les mamans would announce the man's daughter's success, and there was cheering and dancing – all in her honor.
Imagine what the state of education in Cameroon – and the entire world, for that matter – would be if government officials shared the same pride and enthusiasm for their childrens' successes.
posted by Lindsay at 2:53 PM
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