In Which I Describe My Service Learning Project

When we were brainstorming in Dakar before traveling to Guede, I was painfully aware of my own limitations as far as the service learning project was concerned. We were supposed to mobilize our own funds, and as a student, my financial resources are limited. I thought about a lot of different options, but the idea of working to improve the library tempted me the most. Libraries were what Andrew Carnegie built to ease his conscience of his ill-gotten gains. I love reading and I come from a family that loves reading. I truly believe in the power of books to take you beyond your own time and place-- and in doing so, expand the power of your spirit, the range of your imagination. Books are what can make you realize that the world is bigger than your own little village.

Also, unlike other projects, "improving the library" was flexible in size. If I could raise funds for bookshelves full of volumes, that would be wonderful. But if I could only manage to contribute a few shelves, that would be okay too. I wanted a flexible commitment so I wouldn't be put in the position of promising something I couldn't deliver.

I was astonished and a little alarmed by how unrealistic my classmates were during the brainstorming session. They were saying things like, "build a new school building. build an addition onto the hospital." Rather than thinking of their own abilities, they were thinking of the village's needs. Which is admirable and everything, but you need to be aware of what you can and cannot do. I can't blame my classmates for it, because the U.N. does exactly the same thing on a grander scale. It must be a flaw built into human brains.

After my Senegalese friend Emmanuel saw the ramshackle classroom building in Guede, he wanted to "build a new school building." Our teachers told him very gently and tactfully that he needed to be more realistic. I was less tactful. I rolled my eyes and said, "Where are you going to get the lumber for it, pull it out of your pocket?" I don't know why I'm so impatient with people who think all you need is good intentions.

Eventually, Emmanuel decided to join my library project, because even if it wasn't as grandiose as building a new school, it was still in the field of education. And I have to admit it is a relief to have a Senegalese person on the team, to help with languages, navigating the city, etc. Although I worry that I must be a very irritating teammate for Emmanuel because I'm so full of my own plans and ideas. I don't want to steamroller over him in my excess of enthusiasm.

Well, I was prepared to find all sorts of problems in the Guede library. I know that sometimes library projects in Africa fail because people don't bring back books. They told me they would find me a "village mentor" for me, and I could begin by interviewing him. So I prepared a list of questions to tactfully interrogate him on the library's functioning.

My mentor was quite simply the school official who held the keys to the library and worked in the office next door to it; his name was Monsieur Saal. We cordially shook hands as I swallowed down my nervousness. How often do students used the library? I asked. Monsieur Saal appeared embarassed. He hedged and hedged. Finally, he was forced to admit that not a single student had yet borrowed a book. In fact, only six students even possessed library cards.

I swallowed and took a moment to assimilate that. This was a little more than I was bargaining for. Gradually, I grew to understand the nature of the problem. The library had been created by the students who had visited Guede-Chantier last semester. Someone's church had made quite a substantial donation towards the project. They had painted and renovated the room and filled it with books and shelves. The library had officially existed for two months, and it was quite a pleasant little room. "Bienvenue," (Welcome) was written on the chalkboard in all different colors of chalk. One wall was decorated with a mural of handprints in rainbow colors of paint. Above the mural it said, "Mains du Monde," (Hands of the World.)

But everything was covered with a thick layer of dust. I sneezed as I walked through the room. Then Monsieur Saal said, "Oh dear, the termites have gotten to these books." He flipped through them and I saw that three or four shelves full of books were riddled with holes. The wall behind the bookshelf was streaked with what looked like thick sandy trails, betokening the presence of hungry insects. "The students last semester told us we should buy bug-spray," said Monsieur Saal, "But bugspray, you know, is just so difficult to get....." he clicked his tongue.

"How do the students borrow books?" I asked.

"Oh, all they have to do is knock on my office door and get me to unlock the library for them. But they never knock on my door," said Monsieur Saal, neatly excusing himself from all responsibility.

"Well," I said, as tactfully as possible, "The real problem seems to be there is no librarian." (Remember that this whole conversation is taking place in French, and you will be that much more impressed with me. I am SO glad I studied French hard when I was back at Bard.) "You clearly are already burdened with too many responsibilities. You don't have time to sit there in the library, dusting shelves and lending out books."

"Exactly!" said Monsieur Saal. "I am a very busy man. I have lots of responsibilities at this school."

"Also, I think students might be intimidated to come into your office, and ask you to open the library for them," I said.

"Nonsense! Of course not!"

"If I was a student, I would be afraid of bothering you when you were busy," I said. "Here's an idea; what if we create a team of student volunteers to be librarians? They can take turns lending books and make sure the library isn't neglected. It'll give them a sense of ownership and get them used to being in the building."

Monsieur Saal appeared completely shocked. "Trust.... trust.... students?" he stuttered. "Trust them with the KEY? Trust them with RECORD-KEEPING? That's a ridiculous idea. Students can't handle that kind of responsibility!"

I totally disagreed. I think students are capable of just about anything. But our teachers had told us over and over, before we left to Guede-Chantier, that we must approach our work with a humble attitude. We couldn't just be arrogant Americans, blasting our way into town and assuming we knew everything. "You must work WITH your village partners, trust their judgement, and solicit their opinions," they said. We had two teachers for our service-learning class, one Senegalese man and one American woman, and they both really emphasized this point.

So, remembering what they had told me, I gave Monsieur Saal a dazzlingly bright smile and told him, "This is your village, this is your school. I'm just an outsider. I don't know anything. You'll have to be really kind and tell me what the best way is of doing things."

Monsieur Saal appeared taken aback. "You're not like the students last semester," he told me. "They didn't ask ME what to do. They knew exactly what to do already." He seemed very disconcerted.

Then my teacher (a tall Senegalese man called "As") popped into the room. "Well, how is it going?" he inquired cheerily.

"This young lady is very prepared," Monsieur Saal said. "She had a list of questions written out and everything!" I had the strange impression of being a circus animal who had performed her trick correctly. Blushing in embarassment, I looked at my knees.

Prof As asked a few piercing question and was quickly brought up to date on the state of the library. As soon as he heard no one was using the library, he began to shake his head slowly back and forth. Monsieur Saal now was starting to look REALLY embarassed. "Don't worry about anything," he begin to say, "The library project is going really well, I have everything under control, and even if there's nobody using it now...."

"It's important that people use the library," Prof As told Mr. Saal gently. "It's important."

Mr. Saal's torrent of excuses dried up in the face of this undeniable fact. He rocked slowly back and forth in his chair, biting his lip. The two of them, my teacher and my mentor, begin to talk together. To my relief, I found I could follow their French. Soon it emerged that Prof As was suggesting they create a team of student volunteers to care for the library.

"That's exactly what I suggested!" I cried.

Prof As gave me an approving nod as Mr. Saal renewed his flood of objections. But Prof As cut him short. "I know of a great big library in Dakar," he said, "that runs entirely off of student volunteer labor."

Well, if that was the way they did things in DAKAR, what could Mr. Saal say against it? Dakar was the Big City, and Guede-Chantier was only a little village in the boondocks. "All right, maybe we can organize something like that," he said reluctantly.

"Pick six responsible students, so we can meet with them tommorow," As ordered imperiously.

Impossible. Impossible. Mr. Saal was too busy. We would simply have to wait a few days.

"We're LEAVING in a few days," Prof As pointed out. My gaze ping-ponged from one man to another as they locked their eyes in a staring contest. Mr. Saal was sweating. My face blossomed in a smile as I recognized the dynamic. Prof As. was above Mr. Saal on the dominance hierarchy. He was educated, he came bringing foreigners with him from the Big City. He carried himself with authority and confidence. Also, he was six-and-a-half Mr. Saal caved.

Emmanuel then joined me and we started talking with teachers. I asked them all what books the library needed, and they all said the same thing as Mr. Saal. "We don't have enough copies of each book in the library. There are some books there is only one copy of! We need lots of copies of each book."

I had come to Guede-Chantier anxious to work WITH my villager partners and listen to their suggestions. But this answer was completely ridiculous. They were missing the entire concept of "library." The purpose of a school library is to provide students with a wide variety of fun and enriching books, and teach them to love reading. In a tiny one-room library, you don't want 20 copies of each book. You want as many different books as possible. This is just common sense.

Its understandable to be concerned about textbook shortages, but it was beyond our means to buy a textbook for everyone in the school. The sensible thing to do would be to get a few copies and hold them in the library for reference. In that case, it would be just plain stupid to buy more copies than there were chairs in the library. I hate to say it, but nobody seemed to really be thinking things through. The one sensible suggestion I got was from a geography teacher who wanted an atlas.

Anyway, so this should provide you with plenty of food for thought about Development in third-world countries. The students from last semester did a fantastic job, they really did. Since coming back from Guede-Chantier, I've been in email contact with them. The student who came from the church who made the donation was really upset to hear the library was being neglected. Apparently they set up this huge committee with lots of teachers and officials to make sure the library was well-managed. Everyone acted really enthusiastic and promised to take good care of the library. But then the students go away and everyone forgets about it. And if Emmanuel and I had been interested in something other than books..... say, organic agriculture or food preservation..... what would be happening to the library now? Who would be taking care of it?

But anyway, we had a nice meeting with the student volunteer committtee and started things in motion. Maybe when we make our next visit to Guede-Chantier, we'll see improvements, who knows? I'm actually a little anxious about seeing how things have gone in my absence. Doing things in the real world is hard. Its not as black-and-white as it seems when you read pages full of theory. My first priority is to find fun books. I want to show the kids that reading doesn't have to be a chore, it can be enjoyable. When I think about how much I miss my friends and family and boyfriend, I feel discouraged. But I love kids, and if I can make them excited about something new, I'll consider the project a success.