Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Posted by Michelle Diemer at 7:29AM
|
0 comments
I've known for some time now that I need to do a final post for this blog, but out of pride I held off because I thought I needed to have solidified "plans" post-graduation before I wrote a conclusion to this huge chapter of my life.
That elusive plan is what I spent my last four months of college cringing at, using humor to pretend that I didn't care that I was repeatedly rejected for jobs. I followed many options, some in Seattle, a few in Ithaca, but I was consistently pulled back to Gambia. Each time I received the notorious two-lined letter stating that the position I had applied for had been filled, I would be somewhat relieved because I knew my heart was leading me back to service work in Gambia.
So, I gave in and decided that I would proverbially 'listen to my heart' and take a job in Gambia or somewhere abroad. Imagine my surprise, then, when I began getting rejected for those jobs. I thought to myself, "surely there cannot be droves of people lining up to serve the poor in West Africa!", but apparently there were and they were all better-qualified to do so than I was. I hit a real low point. I had no confidence in myself or my abilities and I quickly sank into a disgusting self-pity. But, I kept trying.
Thankfully, I finally found a position teaching English to high school seniors in Brikama in Gambia. I couldn't be happier with the situation. I'm very interested in education, I love the location, and it will allow me to live in Jambanjelly, very near to some special people that I care very deeply about. To top it off, I get to help organize the books and collaborate with the village to create a sustainable program that will ensure that the books are actually useful.
Looking back, I feel ashamed of the way I acted in these past few months. Remember when I wrote about being scared that I would forget all that I had seen while in Jambanjelly? Well, now I know I did. Perhaps if I would have remembered Boss, who is trying his hardest in school even though he has no means to go to college to be a doctor, I would not have let that little stint at rejection (my first ever in my life) hit me so hard.
Whatever the case, I'm slowly but surely trying to learn my lesson and preparing my heart for the thousands more I know are coming this next year.
I'm rereading Tracy Kidder's Mountains Beyond Mountains about Paul Farmer and his life's work. I read it when I first got to the Gambia and it truly changed my entire outlook on the world and certainly my experience last summer. I recommend that everyone read the book. Paul Farmer's life is so inspiring and pushes me to want to do more for others. At all times, I feel like there are different factors continually pressing upon me, whether they be from family, friends, or significant others. Sometimes, I wonder where my heart truly lies in the competing factions of my mind and my loyalties. But, I know that I believe in one thing absolutely, which Kidder quotes Paul Farmer as saying in his book:
"Clean water and health care and school and food and tin roofs and cement floors. All of these things should constitute a set of basics that all people should have as birthrights." p. 91.
On July 16th, I'm going back to Gambia to get beyond my two "romantic" experiences in their culture (as international developers call them) to truly understand the underlying issues in education and the ways I may be useful in changing the system to make education a Gambian birthright. I will be chronicling my experiences on a new blog: gambialiving.blogspot.com. Feel free to check it out if you are interested.
Otherwise, I want to thank every one for reading the scattered entries in this blog for the past year. Although they were messy and imperfect, my experiences in Gambia truly changed life. And it is my hope that, in some small way, they changed yours, too.
Gratefully,
Michelle
Monday, December 3, 2007
Posted by Michelle Diemer at 9:47AM
|
0 comments
Have you enjoyed reading about my experiences on this blog and wished that you could find a way to help the people of Gambia?
Well, your chance has come! The Park School is hosting a Gambia extravaganza of sorts this Thursday in the Park lobby at 6:30 pm. It's going to be a cool and relaxed event, featuring live kora music performed by Gambia native Malang Jobateh, local food, and a photo exhibit that chronicles my entire experience this past summer. Also, we will be having a short info session about the Reggie Simmons Memorial Scholarship which is the whole reason I was even able to go to Gambia in the first place. The info session is at 7:30 in the Park Auditorium and will discuss the specifics of the application and the December 17th deadline.
Please take the time to stop by for a few minutes this Thursday. We're hoping to raise the money to send 25,000 books to the library I helped build all last summer. I can't tell you all how much of a difference those books could make for an entire village and region. Just a few minutes of your time and a couple dollars of your resources can provide thousands of people access to something you take for granted on a daily basis: a library full of books.
See you there!
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Posted by Michelle Diemer at 8:16AM
|
1 commentIt's so strange to say that I've been back from Africa now for as long
as I was there. The past two months have been so busy, so demanding,
and so...utterly the same as the past three years have been that it's
hard for me to believe that my entire life was transformed in just two
short months.
I think the thing that scared me the most about coming back to the
United States was the fact that it was entirely possible that I would
come home and forget about everything I saw while I was in Gambia.
That I would return to my normal life, keeping what happened to me
while I was there as simply a memory, a good one, but a memory
nonetheless. As I struggle to figure out my roller coaster of emotions
and come to some sort of understanding of my time in Africa, I would
definitively say that the word "memory" does not come close to
describing my current attitude toward my experience.
A more accurate term would probably be more along the lines of
obsession. I think I've been termed "Africa girl" in all of my
classes, among my peers, by my professors and definitely by the people
in the park scholar and dean's offices. The people I met in Africa are
still so real to me that I just can't shut up about my experience
there. I feel so dedicated to fighting on behalf of their rights:
their right to have books to read in their library, their right to
have adequate resources in the classroom and as many decent teachers
as possible, their right to have toothpaste and toothbrushes so their
teeth are not constantly hurting them, and their right to feel like
someone who has access to the whole pie is trying to get even a sliver
of the leftovers for them.
What has been so surprising and so refreshing is that my life is
filled with people ready and willing to help in their struggle. Dean
Lynch and the Park School are helping send a huge shipment of books
down to the library, a talented group of my peers and friends are
helping organize the shipment, my sister in Arizona is taking time
from her incredibly busy life as a teacher to get children's books
from her school donated, my doctor offered to help in any way she
could, and the list goes on and on. It makes me feel so proud because
I feel that it is easy for me to help because I've seen it. I know all
of the people who will benefit from the work we're doing, but everyone
helping out and giving so much is doing it just because they feel like
it's the right thing to do.
So, I'm planning on going back for my entire winter holiday, leaving
before finals end and coming back on the day before classes start
again. I honestly can't wait to get back to Gambia. While I love this
school and all that I've learned since I came here three years ago, I
feel that I've learned what I need to learn from Ithaca College. I am
thankful for every opportunity I've been given, but everyday that
passes shows me more and more that the adage "with privilege comes
responsibility" is so true for my life. I know that my responsibility,
at least for the time being, is to Gambia and so I am excited to go
back at Christmas and figure out exactly what I'll be doing when I
come move there after graduation. Hopefully it will be teaching
English, but I'm pretty much open for whatever comes my way.
I'll keep you posted on how things pan out...
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Posted by Michelle Diemer at 11:41AM
|
0 commentsA few photos from The Gambia. Click on this link: The Gambia
Friday, August 31, 2007
Posted by Michelle Diemer at 8:47AM
|
1 comment
Mamansata, the mother of Mbye Kunda--saying Good-bye
August 6, 2007
My apologies for the lack of posting these last couple of weeks. I have had so many things to write
about lately, but every time I have tried to post I have had issues, whether it be with internet
connection, bush taxis, or too many things to do while in Brikama. For some reason it just hasn't
been in the stars for me lately and even today is posing a challenge. I'm in Banjul right now, the
capital of The Gambia, and dealing with 50 Cent's candy shop literally blasting in my ear. My mouse is
not working, neither is my internet connection, and I seriously want to throw in the towel on the whole
bit, but I know I have things to say that I can't put off for my return to the states in just a few
short days.
That's the first thing I wanted to say: I've left the village already for the relaxing "travel week"
and seriously thought that my heart was going to break. I've left quite a few places in the past few
years, but I have never had a more difficult good-bye in my entire life. The last week in the village
was spent tying up loose ends with the library and I am proud to say that we left a secured building. I
don't really know how it was pulled together, but the roof went on, the septic tank was finished, the
walls were plastered and the doors and windows were hung. It was amazing to see everyone pull
together to get it finished. There is still so much to do, including getting books for the building,
but a huge dream was realized last week and it felt absolutely amazing to say goodbye to a secured
building.
I spent most of the week saying my good-byes to the people of the village in various ways. On Friday we
took the workers to the beach for a bonfire that was incredible. On Sunday we crammed 45 children
into a 15 passenger van and headed back out to the beach. We swam with them, ate traditional African
food, and played with them until dark. It was seriously the most amazing thing to see so many kids just
enjoying themselves, playing in the ocean, screaming with laughter. I felt so honored to be a part of
that moment with them and it will forever stay in my mind as one of my best memories.
Those were the fun good-byes. The end of the week was so incredibly sad for many of us in the group.
Once again, I was just floored by the giving spirit of the people. Every time I went to visit my
friends they gave me gifts. I would sit there wondering how I could accept a necklace that a woman wore
to the naming ceremony of her child or how I could possibly show my gratitude for a handmade
embroidered cloth saying, "We will love Michelle Diemer forever and ever" in English and Mandinka. I
still don't know what I did to deserve to be part of that community, but I will be forever
grateful.
The actual day we were leaving, August 3rd, was my saddest day. I was a puddle of tears from the moment
I woke up until the moment we pulled away from the village at 6 p.m. They gave us a good-bye ceremony
and then we just stood in the courtyard of our compound saying good-bye to so many people. It just
broke my heart that the summer was ending and I Just didn't feel ready whatsoever. I love those
people so much and I am realizing that I still have more to do here in The Gambia.
I sat in on a social studies class last week and the teacher was talking about Latitude and Longitude.
It was a lesson introducing and describing the topic and I counted more than 5 egregious errors in the
"textbook". Diagrams showing latitude were on the page with text describing longitude, most of the
calculations of distance were totally wrong, words were totally mispelled, and my heart broke once
again. If there's one thing that is obvious, it's that there's hope for this country if they are able
to become educated. How can they have any hope if their own textbooks are not even close to correct?
The teachers still beat their students, and even the teacher I was shadowing for the day was still
teaching although there were allegations circulating in the village that he had raped one of 9th grade
students. I realized that that shadowing experience might have exposed me to my true chance
to give back. I think I could teach here, maybe only for a few months, maybe even for a year. It's
all just a possibility at this point, but I have a strong hope that I'll return and do my best to
help. I just can't not do it. I've seen it and I know that it is my responsibility to do something
about it whether it is through teaching or through some other avenue. I know that this village became a
second home to me for a reason, and I am commiting myself to finding that reason during the next
academic year.
I only have six minutes left on the internet at this point, and I know that this post has raised a lot
of questions among my friends and family. I'll be home in just a few short days and hope to return with
some more clarity after this week of travel and, more importantly, much needed thinking time. I can't
wait to share more of my experiences with people and I hope that they will all agree that this is
something I have to do, even if it is just for a short time.
.