Eating Elephants

Love.

Have you ever heard the old adage, “Get back on the horse”? You know, the idea that every time you fail, you should pick yourself up and dust yourself off and try, try again? This is the adage, the image, that keeps coming to me as of late. You see, I’m trying to do something meaningful here. Trying. One of my fellow PCVs took Yoda’s famous phrase and repurposed it for development work in Africa. It goes like this, “Try or try not, there is no do.”

The problem I’m facing is that I’m learning more and more about the culture. I’m learning more and more about the people. I’m slowly becoming more integrated, more informed. These are all good things, of course, but on par with my level of growth about the culture is a greater understanding of the deeply rooted problems I’m facing. The problems grow larger and larger, looming in my mind like giant shadows. Last week, for example, I attended a conference on gender-based violence. The statistics of violence against women here are staggering. 70% of women aged 15 to 49 have experienced violence from a partner. 24% of women experienced a forced first sexual encounter. Women here talk of “when” you are raped, not “if.”

And so, I try. I plan workshops on gender-based violence. I prepare model lessons on HIV/AIDS. I make materials to teach students about malaria. I form reading groups. I keep lifting my leg in an attempt to saddle that horse. But this is Africa, and Africa is known for its wild horses. Invariably, the horse makes a break for it before I so much as put one foot in the saddle. That wild, bucking, neighing horse is canceled classes, resistance to change, unexpected assemblies, the lack of resources, and absent teachers. This week that horse is teachers threatening to strike. Teachers who haven’t been paid in two months, who don’t know when or if they will ever be paid. Teachers who cannot afford to put their children in school. Teachers who cannot afford to feed their children.

Somewhere along the line, I learned resiliency. I am not one to give up. Only once in my recent history have I chosen not to get back on the horse, and it haunts me still. But some days, I just want to shoot that horse. I picture myself, laying in a green meadow, the sun kissing my face, a gentle breeze moving through my hair. I am curled up in the fetal position, sleeping peacefully, a dead horse laying at my side.

There’s another adage I’ve been thinking about lately. “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.” In my mind’s eye, I am sitting at the foot of an elephant. I have a plastic knife and fork and I’m trying ever so hard to carve out my first bite, but the plastic tines keep on breaking.

This is development work. This is Africa. This is my chosen path. So, I've found a new adage. A Mexican proverb that says, "It is not enough for a man to how to ride; he must know how to fall." That's what I'm doing--learning how to fall. Maybe that's the first step.

The game that was inspiration for this post. Nom, nom, nom.