Last week we prepared for, hosted and debriefed from an important but anxiety inducing aspect of pre-service training – counterpart workshop. Each volunteer in Senegal is matched with 2 or 3 official counterparts from their host community to assist them with cultural integration and act as work partners for future projects. In theory, everyone gets a community counterpart – to ease our transition into the new community, identify important people and save us from cultural blunders – and a second professional counterpart – for my sector these are usually health professionals or teachers. The counterparts receive no compensation from Peace Corps, and I’ve heard their level of helpfulness ranges from godsend to complete disaster. The point of CPW is to have as many counterparts as possible come to the training center to learn about the philosophy of Peace Corps, our training process, expected roles and responsibilities and how they can ease our transition into the community. Although our language skills are mediocre at best, the goal is also to begin a working relationship that will continue, Inshallah (god willing), for the next two years.
Luckily, I was able to meet both of my counterparts during volunteer visit. One – Oumar – is my host dad/uncle (he can’t be more than 35) and has done this whole process once before with my anncienne (volunteer I’m replacing). My professional counterpart is new to the Peace Corps arena, but I’m very excited to be working with her. Mata is probably in her mid-20s and is a relais (community health worker) for Saare Sara. I wasn’t able to figure out exactly what she does day-to-day, but I think it involves lots of baby weighing, house calls and informal talks. She was shy at first, but opened up by the second day and I think will be a great person to work with/hopefully be my new best friend in village. She didn’t seem freaked out by my request to spend a few days tailing her around, so that’s a start. As I wrote before, my host dad Oumar seems like a budding entrepreneur within the village – with his coffee stand and mini boutique – so I think he’ll be a great liaison into the community. He’s on board with my plan to spend every morning drinking coffee and eating beans with the bros at his shop in order to practice Pulaar and catch myself up on town gossip.
The workshop was divided into a number of different topics, mostly facilitated by our language and cultural teachers but also a number of other staff with more appropriate language capabilities. Although my group had to give up our fabulous Djeneba (she speaks at least 5 languages and was stolen by the calabante – trouble maker – Pullo Futas), we were given Awa instead. Awa is in charge of all cross-cultural business for PC Senegal and is the Mama that we will all need at one point or another. She’s about 6 feet tall and wears the best full length boubous (fancy muumuus) I’ve ever seen. She commands a room and took full control of our sessions without hesitation. Even though all of the sessions were done in Pulaar, I could understand ~80% of what was said (the rest was translated by older volunteers) and was able to do a few prepared and off the cuff presentations in Fulakunda for our group of about 30 trainees, counterparts and PC staffers.
Overall there were only a handful of long silences with my counterparts – 2 hours was a long time for a two-on-one interview! – and luckily “awkward” doesn’t really exist as a concept in Senegalese culture. I got to learn more about what they think are the biggest health issues in Saare Sara (no health post), what they liked about working with the last volunteer and how I can best get to know the community. We also made a 2 month plan for what I’m hoping to do before my second round of training. This included the standards: visit the closest health post and schools, meet the village chief, start my personal garden and do my baseline survey. It also included some personal extras: get a dog, enjoy daily coffee and bean sandwiches, and learn to cook and dance like a Senegalese (these last ones might be a lot to ask in 2 months). It goes without saying that practicing Pulaar will be a daily activity. I should note, my first two months will probably sound like a lot of doing nothing. This is exactly what I’m supposed to be doing. The period between PST and IST (inter-service training) is meant to be for honing language skills, getting to know the community and developing an understanding of community needs. Just because my two counterparts think that the biggest problem is the lack of health post, that’s not necessarily what the rest of the community wants. I really won’t know what my projects will be until August after I’ve done a full survey, can actually communicate without sounding like a fool and have received more technical training (so stop asking, Mom).
After all the counterparts hit the road on Saturday morning, we also packed up from the training center for a night in a rented beach house for the traditional “PST Beach Weekend.” I’ll just say, the beach was beautiful and the evening was great fun. On a sappier note, I felt my first pangs of serious homesickness this weekend knowing that Charlottesville was bursting with pastel and plaid for the annual Foxfield Races. Who knows when I’ll break this 3-year and counting absence from the infield, but I hope everyone there had fun (send me pictures and stories!).
No comments:
Post a Comment