Letter, February 2006
On Being Mocked
The verb in French for making fun of is “mocquer”. I use it a lot, usually in the joking sense, but I don’t know that a day goes by that I am not made fun of. Sometimes, people just literally point and laugh at me (especially when I’m biking, hence wearing a helmet). Often, they say hello to me (in English, French, N’Gambaye, or Arabic). When I respond with the appropriate language, they respond with laughter. Tons of people mock the way I speak no matter what language I’m speaking.) Then, there’s the ever popular “talk about her in N’Gambaye, she’ll never know” approach.
When I came here, I made the semi-conscious decision to be myself. I realized that being reserved wasn’t necessarily going to help me to integrate in the community, and that teaching the neighborhood kids “Arustacha” and (although I now regret it) “the Chicken Dance” was actually not just a way to pass the time but was actually fun. And sometimes I’d rather answer my classes’ questions (in French) about life in America than teach them a new grammar point. I’ve now realized this was probably not the best idea because their respect level for me has gone through the floor. Oh they love me all right, but the whole learning English thing has been exposed as a joke (I’m not even going to get into right now whether or not I think teaching English in Tchad is worthwhile, but I do know I could be teaching these kids something. And it seems thus far I’ve taught about half of them to adore me (and hence actually listen to me talk about the present progressive so that’s good for that reason) and the other half to make fun of me constantly for being different from them and from what they imagine teachers should be like (strict, boring, male). I’m sure if I were a little more sedated, I’d still get made fun of but the only reason it ever really hurts is when I realize they aren’t just making fun of me for being white but me for being myself. And normally I just quip back. A favorite pastime is talking to people in English when they ask me for water or whatever because the minute my English is more complicated than “How are you? I am fine”, they are lost. And I am in many ways okay with being the spectacle of the community; I just don’t really know how easy it will be to translate the spectacle role into any sort of role where I’m actually being useful. As an English teacher, I’m useful to the possibly 10% of kids who want to learn English. Even my recently started English Club just feels like another opportunity to gawk at the crazy lady. The things that I feel that I could actually offer in terms of education (actually helping kids to think, i.e. to write a paragraph, to analyze something) seem impossible with a hundred kids staring at me cluelessly the moment I ask them to choose between two verb tenses.
The weird thing is that despite all the difficulties I encounter here, I am pretty capable of remaining positive. People are constantly mocking me, asking me for things, staring at me, cheating, but all that I can attribute to their culture. That’s not to say it never bothers me but if so-and-so wants me to give him a dictionary, that’s not him asking that’s Chad (and in some ways colonialism which instilled the whole white people are rich and they give cadeaux attitude.) Unfortunately, Chadian culture is so ingrained in people here and American culture (of a sort) is so ingrained in me that it will be difficult for me to ever feel like I’m actually integrated in the community as a whole. I know that people will be able to accept me, but seeing me as the same as them seems practically impossible (or at least it will take a long time.)
A Vocabulary Lesson
In Arabic and N’Gambaye, there is one word to mean “There isn’t any” or “I don’t have any”, mahfi and godo respectively. This means that the phrase “Il n’y en a pas”, is incredibly popular in French though I think there are very few people who actually understand the pronouns “y” and “en”. There are a handful of French phrases that are extremely popular (i.e. overused) here that seem to make it even into conversations completely in another language. I’ve decided that these phrases are why I will be incapable of actually learning to speak French well (I speak French as well or better than the average person here, but a French person would probably scoff at me.)
Ah, bon – This is kind of the overall response to anything. Sometimes it is just to indicate agreement, sometimes disbelief. Other times the beginnings of a rebuttal.
Comme ca – This one really irritates a couple of the other volunteers, but I find myself using it a bit too much. Basically, it can be added to anything,. i.e. ”You are washing your clothes, like that? (as in the wrong way), “You are going to the market like that?” (ie dressed inappropriately) and sometimes the more docile “Do it like this,” “She went to Mondou like that.”
“Cest ca – Harmless phrase of affirmation. It wouldn’t bother me at all, but I always associate it with Noelle (our training director who I liked but was not exactly the best French speaker ever.) Unfortunately, I find myself using it way too much.
C’est maintenant – This I just don’t get. Sometimes people will say “La retour, c’est maintenant” which makes sense sort of (“The return, is now” as in you are coming home now.) But a lot of times it’s just “c’est maintenant” of course the answer is easy because it is always now. The only possible answer I have for this one is that only popular song in Chad “Coupe Decolle” includes “c’est maintenant” in the lyrics.
On est ou la – Literally, “one is where [there]”. That isn’t that popular, but it’s the name of a bar in Lere and these kids (20 somethings) on the taxi-brusse with Cat and I thought they were hilarious for repeating it the whole ride. I never really got why it’s so funny.
La bas – not really a Chadian French phrase, but what I enjoy calling America (sometimes I say “chez moi” too). I like the idea that I come from “over there”.
Ooo la la – It’s just funny when grown Chadian males say “ooo la la”. Of course, they also hold hands.
But in general …
Things are pretty much the same as last month. I mentioned I’ve started an English club and girls’ club at the school. Girls’ club is causing me problems because it’s hard for me to come up with stuff to do without any resources. Hopefully, it’ll get better when I go to N’Djamena in April and figure some stuff out. I see tiny bits of progress in general. The advanced English club wrote their own dialogues re topics I gave them. The 4eme (9th grade) class wrote me letters in English. I’ve mentioned to one of the women who is on the planning committee of sorts I want to help out with the International Women’s Day festivities. I’m talking with the sanitation agents and probably going to get involved in a project to build latrines at the market. My family is good, but more often than not someone is sick. They finally rebuilt my hangar, I bought some extra seco (woven straw) and now I’ve made it so I can close the door therefore mostly keep the chickens out. I feel like it’s my own little secret clubhouse now and when they bring the mail, they’ll bring the mattress I bought in Kelo and I’ll probably start sleeping outside soon (it’s not hot yet but you can feel it coming in the afternoon, I’m not so much looking forward to March) I miss you all (and really appreciate letters) but I’m really very content in my boring life here.
The verb in French for making fun of is “mocquer”. I use it a lot, usually in the joking sense, but I don’t know that a day goes by that I am not made fun of. Sometimes, people just literally point and laugh at me (especially when I’m biking, hence wearing a helmet). Often, they say hello to me (in English, French, N’Gambaye, or Arabic). When I respond with the appropriate language, they respond with laughter. Tons of people mock the way I speak no matter what language I’m speaking.) Then, there’s the ever popular “talk about her in N’Gambaye, she’ll never know” approach.
When I came here, I made the semi-conscious decision to be myself. I realized that being reserved wasn’t necessarily going to help me to integrate in the community, and that teaching the neighborhood kids “Arustacha” and (although I now regret it) “the Chicken Dance” was actually not just a way to pass the time but was actually fun. And sometimes I’d rather answer my classes’ questions (in French) about life in America than teach them a new grammar point. I’ve now realized this was probably not the best idea because their respect level for me has gone through the floor. Oh they love me all right, but the whole learning English thing has been exposed as a joke (I’m not even going to get into right now whether or not I think teaching English in Tchad is worthwhile, but I do know I could be teaching these kids something. And it seems thus far I’ve taught about half of them to adore me (and hence actually listen to me talk about the present progressive so that’s good for that reason) and the other half to make fun of me constantly for being different from them and from what they imagine teachers should be like (strict, boring, male). I’m sure if I were a little more sedated, I’d still get made fun of but the only reason it ever really hurts is when I realize they aren’t just making fun of me for being white but me for being myself. And normally I just quip back. A favorite pastime is talking to people in English when they ask me for water or whatever because the minute my English is more complicated than “How are you? I am fine”, they are lost. And I am in many ways okay with being the spectacle of the community; I just don’t really know how easy it will be to translate the spectacle role into any sort of role where I’m actually being useful. As an English teacher, I’m useful to the possibly 10% of kids who want to learn English. Even my recently started English Club just feels like another opportunity to gawk at the crazy lady. The things that I feel that I could actually offer in terms of education (actually helping kids to think, i.e. to write a paragraph, to analyze something) seem impossible with a hundred kids staring at me cluelessly the moment I ask them to choose between two verb tenses.
The weird thing is that despite all the difficulties I encounter here, I am pretty capable of remaining positive. People are constantly mocking me, asking me for things, staring at me, cheating, but all that I can attribute to their culture. That’s not to say it never bothers me but if so-and-so wants me to give him a dictionary, that’s not him asking that’s Chad (and in some ways colonialism which instilled the whole white people are rich and they give cadeaux attitude.) Unfortunately, Chadian culture is so ingrained in people here and American culture (of a sort) is so ingrained in me that it will be difficult for me to ever feel like I’m actually integrated in the community as a whole. I know that people will be able to accept me, but seeing me as the same as them seems practically impossible (or at least it will take a long time.)
A Vocabulary Lesson
In Arabic and N’Gambaye, there is one word to mean “There isn’t any” or “I don’t have any”, mahfi and godo respectively. This means that the phrase “Il n’y en a pas”, is incredibly popular in French though I think there are very few people who actually understand the pronouns “y” and “en”. There are a handful of French phrases that are extremely popular (i.e. overused) here that seem to make it even into conversations completely in another language. I’ve decided that these phrases are why I will be incapable of actually learning to speak French well (I speak French as well or better than the average person here, but a French person would probably scoff at me.)
Ah, bon – This is kind of the overall response to anything. Sometimes it is just to indicate agreement, sometimes disbelief. Other times the beginnings of a rebuttal.
Comme ca – This one really irritates a couple of the other volunteers, but I find myself using it a bit too much. Basically, it can be added to anything,. i.e. ”You are washing your clothes, like that? (as in the wrong way), “You are going to the market like that?” (ie dressed inappropriately) and sometimes the more docile “Do it like this,” “She went to Mondou like that.”
“Cest ca – Harmless phrase of affirmation. It wouldn’t bother me at all, but I always associate it with Noelle (our training director who I liked but was not exactly the best French speaker ever.) Unfortunately, I find myself using it way too much.
C’est maintenant – This I just don’t get. Sometimes people will say “La retour, c’est maintenant” which makes sense sort of (“The return, is now” as in you are coming home now.) But a lot of times it’s just “c’est maintenant” of course the answer is easy because it is always now. The only possible answer I have for this one is that only popular song in Chad “Coupe Decolle” includes “c’est maintenant” in the lyrics.
On est ou la – Literally, “one is where [there]”. That isn’t that popular, but it’s the name of a bar in Lere and these kids (20 somethings) on the taxi-brusse with Cat and I thought they were hilarious for repeating it the whole ride. I never really got why it’s so funny.
La bas – not really a Chadian French phrase, but what I enjoy calling America (sometimes I say “chez moi” too). I like the idea that I come from “over there”.
Ooo la la – It’s just funny when grown Chadian males say “ooo la la”. Of course, they also hold hands.
But in general …
Things are pretty much the same as last month. I mentioned I’ve started an English club and girls’ club at the school. Girls’ club is causing me problems because it’s hard for me to come up with stuff to do without any resources. Hopefully, it’ll get better when I go to N’Djamena in April and figure some stuff out. I see tiny bits of progress in general. The advanced English club wrote their own dialogues re topics I gave them. The 4eme (9th grade) class wrote me letters in English. I’ve mentioned to one of the women who is on the planning committee of sorts I want to help out with the International Women’s Day festivities. I’m talking with the sanitation agents and probably going to get involved in a project to build latrines at the market. My family is good, but more often than not someone is sick. They finally rebuilt my hangar, I bought some extra seco (woven straw) and now I’ve made it so I can close the door therefore mostly keep the chickens out. I feel like it’s my own little secret clubhouse now and when they bring the mail, they’ll bring the mattress I bought in Kelo and I’ll probably start sleeping outside soon (it’s not hot yet but you can feel it coming in the afternoon, I’m not so much looking forward to March) I miss you all (and really appreciate letters) but I’m really very content in my boring life here.
posted by Rebecca @ 10:24 PM
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