March 2011 Archives

We've been thinking about a lot of new ideas for activities to do with various age groups that will be different from the reading strategies taught in the summer camps.  We're looking to organize two-week after school mini-camps with 4th-graders that will focus on the mechanics of reading words (phonics, pronunciation, syllables, etc) so that they will have a solid foundation for learning the comprehension skills that come later.  We do have a lot of constraints that we need to work around in organizing these camps though - for example, our number one priority right now is doing inventory at all three libraries, a process which takes 2-3 days per library.  We also need to renew our visas before the end of the month, so we are planning a trip to Burkina Faso for the 3rd week in March to visit some of the libraries there.  So right now, we are looking to start up three evening programs with 5th graders, 6th graders, and 7th graders, respectively.  We hope to combine reading activities, word games and puzzles, arts and crafts, phonics, creative thinking activities, and writing in these classes.  We have so many ideas and not nearly enough time to do them all!  We also need to figure out a way to recruit students for these activities - we were originally planning to visit the schools and talk to the headmasters and teachers, but it seems the teachers will be staging a protest on Tuesday, and it remains to be seen whether they will commit to a long-term strike over wages, benefits, etc.  I'm having flashbacks to my time volunteering in Santiago, when I showed up for three weeks to volunteer at a high school, only to find the students and/or teachers on strike.

One day last March, students crammed into the Great Hall at the University of Ghana to hear Mo Ibrahim, a Sudanese-born billionaire who built one of the first mobile-phone networks in Africa. In his speech, he noted that while Africa is a very rich continent, it has the poorest people on earth. He blamed this state on "a catastrophic failure of leadership and governance...too many dictators, too many megalomaniacs, too many thieves, who bled this continent for their personal and family interest." Ibrahim, who is sixty-four years old, is often hailed as a hero in Africa. His mobile-phone company, Celtel, contributed to the development of civil society across the continent, and he's now spending the money he earned to try to change the values of the dictators, megalomaniacs, and thieves. Each year, he offers the Ibrahim Prize, which bestows five million dollars on an African leader who is elected to office, promotes democracy, does not steal from the people, and cedes power peacefully. He has also created the Ibrahim Index of African Governance, a numerical ranking of Africa's fifty-three governments.

Yesterday as Emilie and I made the rounds to pick up prizes for the Race 4 Reading and Jungle Party fundraisers, we stopped by a small restaurant called La Naza and were so impressed by the owner we felt we had to throw up a blog post.

La Naza is a small, non-descript restaurant on a quiet side street in a tucked away corner of Ouaga that seems almost impossible to find unless you set out specifically to find it, which is fortunately just what we set out to do.  What makes La Naza unique amongst the countless small roadside eateries here in the capital is that all of its offerings are vegetarian.  The menu has the same familiar offerings as most of its competitors (rice, couscous, fries), but instead of meat, the dishes feature tofu and lentils.  The stand-out item on the menu, and the one which drew us all the way from the other side of town, is the tofu brochette.  While you can find meat-on-a-stick anywhere in Ouaga, I am pretty sure La Naza is the only restaurant in town that offers this delicious tofu variation.  The tofu is covered with a peanut sauce and grilled with onions and zuchini, making it some of the most flavorful tofu I've ever had (that said, I should note I don't frequently order tofu, even in parts of the world where it is plentiful).  It is by far one of the most delicious things I've eaten here in the past two years.

While the food itself is wonderful and novel, what really struck Emilie and me about La Naza was the establishment's owner, Christine Tabsoba.  She came in to meet us and donate several prizes for the fundraisers (including certificates for free tofu brochettes).  As she wrote out the certificates, Emilie and I couldn't refrain from bombarding her with questions about her restaurant.  As far as either of us knows, La Naza is the only vegetarian restaurant in town, so we were intrigued to know the history of the place.  Apparently Christine is part of an association that practices meditation and healthy living and learned about the health benefits of vegetarianism from a visiting guru several years back.  Christine felt that more Burkinabe had to know about the benefits of eating healthfully, especially since the diet of the average Ouagalaise contains so much meat and carbs.  She pressed the association to open a restaurant, and they suggested that she (wo)man the helm, which she finally did in 2004.  Christine and her partners made the tofu by hand for several years, which was a somewhat difficult and time-consuming process, but a couple fo years back they were finally able to purchase a machine to do the hard part for them.  Now they have more time to make deliveries all over town. 

After Christine finished explaining the history of her association and restaurant, we asked her why they had chosen such an out-of-the-way location.  Apparently they had another more central location when they opened, but for various reasons they were forced to move and their current spot was the best they could get, considering how difficult it is to find space in Ouaga.  She is keeping her eye out for a place closer to Zone du Bois or Ouaga 2000, because La Naza has proven to be a big hit with the expat community (the first time I had teh brochettes was at a Peace Corps tree planting) and she and her staff spend a good deal of time driving across town to make deliveries to the expat enclaves.  While she waits for a new spot to open up, Emilie and I have decided to change our exercise routines so that at least once a month, we will bike across town to reward ourselves with brochettes. 

Ouagadougou - Around 20 prisoners escaped in Burkina Faso on Monday after teenagers set four police stations on fire to protest against violent clashes that killed four students last month.

La situation reste toujours tendue en Côte d'Ivoire. Sur le front ouest, aucun combat n'a jusque-là été signalé ce mardi 8 mars 2011. En revanche à Abidjan, suite à une marche des femmes du RHDP, des violences ont été signalées cet après-midi à Treichville où quatre personnes ont été tuées. Le calme ne revient pas en Côte d'Ivoire alors que l'Union africaine se réunit jeudi à Addis-Abeba pour évoquer la crise.

I promise this review will be shorter than my last, mostly because I just burned my hand making coffee and typing is rather unpleasant at the moment.

Last night I headed to CineWemtenga, the outdoor theater near our place, to see 3 short films submitted for the competition. 

When the lights went down and the projector turned on, what I took to be the first film featured two old men playing checkers in some rural location.  The two started discussing female circumcision (or, more aptly monikered, female genital mutilation).  One of the two players appeared to be a maribout or religious leader, the other an important man of village.  The latter began inquiring about what Islam has to say on the subject, to which the former replied that, as far as he knew, Islam didn't demand it and that it was an African tradition that predated Islam's arrival.  Turns out the short was actually a PSA intended to dissuade Africans from continuing the tradition.  The second short also turned out to be a FGM PSA, as did the third, fourth and fifth.  All of them presented different scenarios and members of society (doctor/patient, boyfriend/girlfriend, teacher/students, women in the marketplace) and did a great job presenting counterarguments for the typical justifications for the practice.  Pretty impressive.

What was less impressive was the actual first film of the night.  "Drogba est mort," by Moussa DIARRA, was a brief vignette that depicted a young African street child, part of an Islamic school community, as he plays soccer by himself in a dump, dreaming of being a famous soccer player.  There are some shots of kids begging, people ignoring traffic laws, children from the school with their ubiquitous tomato paste cans with which they beg for food and money, and then our hero gets hit by a car and dies.  At the end of the film, as the las scene fades to black, cueing the somber music, we are presented with the message that, "Every year, thousands of tomato paste cans cross the Mediterranean Sea."  I don't know if the film was supposed to be poignant, touching, cute, or just a quick view of an African cityscape, but whatever it was supposed to be didn't work for me, as I at least know it wasn't meant to be funny and it took all my effort to hold back my laughter at the end.  Thankfully several Burkinabè women behind me started laughing, which at least made me feel that my response was somehow legitimate.

The next film was "Zebu and the photo fish," by Nyaruri ZIPPORAH, which was a bit longer and a bit better than the first.  It presented the story of a precocious young boy whose family is in debt to a local merchant.  To pay back the debt, the boy and his father must hand over their daily catch to the heartless merchant.  The boy, piqued that his family can neither eat the fish nor sell it for themselves at the market, and worried about his sick mother who can't afford her medication, devises a scheme to pay back the debt while at the same time taking care of his family.  The film wasn't wonderful, but it made me smile, which was good enough after the first film.

The final film of the evening was quite a bit longer than the other two and quite a bit better.  "Soul boy," by Hawa ESSUMAN, was a modern fairly tale set in a Kenyan slum.  It follows the adventures of a young boy who, in order to save the soul of his father, which has been taken by local witch, must complete 7 tasks before sunrise.  The film, set in the largest slum in Nairobi, was a collective effort which teamed an established production company with local aspiring actors and filmmakers, whose training consisted of putting together this film.  

My favorite element of "Soul boy" was the young hero's sidekick and foil, a young girl from the slum. She was strong and witty throughout, standing up to both older boys in the neighborhood, as well as her friend when he made unintentionally misogynistic comments.  There's a great scene where they stumble upon a crowd watching a street performance, and they are called up to improvise the roles of a typical mother and father and their responsibilities regarding the upbringing of children.  The boy holds a typical view that the welfare of the children is the mother's responsibility because the man must work and think of the future, which elicits stern rebuke from the young heroine.  The boy, distracted by something going on in the background, runs off, leaving the crowd with a strong impression of who had the stronger argument. 

It was really wonderful to see such a strong young female character who, while supporting the male protagonist, understands that he still holds some fairly typical chauvinistic attitudes that need some adjusting (and which she has no problem adjusting for him).  I'm going to check out a few more films tonight, including "When China met Africa" which I've been looking forward to for a while, but I have a feeling that "Soul boy" may tie with "Donoma" for my favorite film at FESPACO.  We'll see how the jury feels tomorrow at the presentation of the Etalon dor de Yennenga, the festival's grand prize.

One of the main problems with FESPACO is that there are so many films that it's hard to choose which ones to see.  Fortunately this is one of the few problems for which I have no complaints.  

After the opening ceremony this past Saturday evening and film tributes to African filmmakers who have passed away since the last installment of FESPACO, this year's films began showing on Sunday.  I was fortunate enough to luck out on both of the films I picked rather randomly to go see, as both were thoroughly enjoyable (if, at times, depressing).

The first film I saw was showing in a neighborhood I wasn't all that familiar with.  When I showed up I was immediately impressed with the theater itself.  While I enjoy the cinema in our neighborhood, it is enjoyable for its very simplicity (long stone bench stadium-style seating, no concession booth other than a small stand selling cigarettes, and the best part - no roof so you can look up at the stars if your attention starts to drift from the film).  The cinema in Neerwaya had a completely different atmosphere.  Outside the theater there is a large, covered veranda where you can order food and drinks, secluded from the outside world by beautiful foliage all around the courtyard.  The building itself had a large lobby with posters advertising local movies and such Hollywood fare as Salt and You, Me and Dupree.  Inside viewers are treated to air-conditioning and comfortable, plush seats.

The film, Donoma, by Haitian filmmaker Djinn Carrénard, was apparently the result of a challenge the crew and cast set for themselves: make a feature film for under $200.  The result was surprisingly good, if at times a little too conspicuously artsy for my taste.  The narrative was a triptych of love/lust stories which presented sometimes touching, sometimes disturbing scenes of life in the Paris of poor/lower-middle class youth from mostly immigrant families.  The acting was superb all around and quickly drew your attention away from the production itself (if I had to choose a best actor/actress, I think I'd have to say Salomé Blechmans took the prize), which with a budget of $200, was obviously rather raw.  While I didn't always buy the scenarios the characters found themselves in (a charged student/teacher relationship which explodes rather suddenly in an after-school sexual encounter, for instance, or the Ghanaian photographer who decides to choose her next boyfriend by closing her eyes, taking a photo in the metro, and then bringing the subject home for a month of pantomime of new love), their interactions and relationships were honest and passionately presented.  I could have used without the artistic flairs, such as long scenes without audio or visuals, or the supernatural touches of stigmata and levitation which to me just seemed gimmicky.  Overall though, a thoroughly enjoyable and at times deeply moving film - I already find myself missing the characters and wondering what they're up to in Paris while I'm stuck here in Ouagadougou.

Since I don't usually see more than a couple of films per year in a movie theater, I certainly wasn't 

planning on seeing two in one day, but the friends I went with wanted to check out the evening offering at the French Cultural Center, so I reluctantly tagged along.  We purchased tickets, enjoyed a light meal at the Center's courtyard restaurant, stood in line, and were informed at the door that the film was invitation-only.  While I took that as a sign to go home to bed, my friends took it as further 

evidence of Burkina's poor-planning and implementation of FESPACO and went back to the ticket booth, where the FESPACO staff proceeded to tell us it wasn't their fault for selling us tickets to a film we weren't invited to, but that it was the Cultural Center's fault for not understanding that their invititational screening wasn't supposed to be exclusive.  After some discussion between the FESPACO staff and the Cultural Center staff, we were allowed to wait until all of the invitees were seated and then see if there were any seats left.  There were.

While I hadn't been particularly looking forward to the film (London River by Algerian director Rachid Bouchareb), I'm glad that I went.  The film followed two parents searching for their children in the aftermath of 2005's bombings in London.  Both parents lived far from London, a British mother in Guernsey and a West African father in rural France, and had nothing in common until their solitary searches for their children led them to the discovery that their children had been dating and taking Arabic classes together at a London mosque.  The film was tightly focused on the search for lost loved ones and the discovery of common ground in a world quickly realizing how small and interconnected it is; there were no secondary stories or subplots and almost the entire film was spent following the parents from home to London and from police station, to vacant apartment, to mosque, to hospital. 

While this could have quickly made for tedious viewing, the parents' emotional journey carried the burden of such a simple plot and I never got tired of watching the father's slow, stolid striding through a city whose language he doesn't speak or the mother's frantic discovery of a cultural world she doesn't know and therefore fears (one of the funniest scenes in the film, of which there are a surprising number, is when the mother goes to the school where her daughter was taking Arabic classes and asks the teacher, "I don't understand.  Why would my daughter be learning Arabic?  Arabic?  Who even speaks that?" to which the instructor calmly looks around the room and gently responds, "Why, all of us do.").  Though there were no surprising plot twists (unless the end was supposed to be surprising, in which case the film did have a rather serious flaw), no special effects, and not much change of pace or scenery, I was absorbed by and devoted to the characters' search from the first scenes to the last.  And while the story of cross-cultural acceptance, even without understanding, in the post-September 11th world has been told many times and by now often comes across as trite, the director and cast offered it up with so  much touching humility and honesty that I just about forgot how much these types of stories tend to irk me.  Very well-done.

Hopefully the length of this post will hide the fact that I have yet to see any other films (I was out of town visiting a friend and just got back last night), though I plan to rectify that tonight, even if I don't opt for a double-header this time.

H.M.S. : C'est-à-dire qu'il n'y a pas d'exigence dans la sélection. C'est le seul festival qui ne va pas chercher les films, il faut lui envoyer les films. Donc il n'y a pas un désir de chercher ce qui se fait. Et du coup, on attend tranquillement, en bon fonctionnaire, qu'on nous envoie les films, et à partir de ce moment-là on les sélectionne.
RFI : Vous n'allez pas vous faire que des amis, en disant ça.
H.M.S. : Non, je ne cherche pas à me faire des amis, parce que j'ai toujours été un solitaire. Et puis, on a besoin de débats en réalité. Face à certaines situations il faut bien parler. On ne peut pas « se la jouer à l'Africaine ». En fait, cette tradition consiste à être en permanence dans le non-dit et à planter des couteaux dans le dos.

We constructed a corpus of digitized texts containing about 4% of all books ever printed. Analysis of this corpus enables us to investigate cultural trends quantitatively. We survey the vast terrain of 'culturomics,' focusing on linguistic and cultural phenomena that were reflected in the English language between 1800 and 2000. We show how this approach can provide insights about fields as diverse as lexicography, the evolution of grammar, collective memory, the adoption of technology, the pursuit of fame, censorship, and historical epidemiology. Culturomics extends the boundaries of rigorous quantitative inquiry to a wide array of new phenomena spanning the social sciences and the humanities.