Why African Children Don't Climb Trees And Other Commute Musings

As I have mentioned, I go to the Mole refugee camp four times a week, and each day I have a three hour commute (90 minutes each way) over some tough roads. There is so much to see, so much to take in that I will not tire of this routine as long as I am here. I ride, I think, I give small English lessons to Yaya my driver, and I wave a lot. This morning, I was wondering why it was that I never saw children in trees around their houses. I saw them everywhere else, but not in the trees. I thought maybe, as with my Jamaican friends, they didn't want to meet face-to-face with other tree dwellers. I was curious though, as it would have been nigh on impossible to keep me out of a tree as a little boy. Yaya and I chatted about vocabulary as we made our way to the camp. I am learning a lot about agriculture. I ask about curious looking things, then we spend ten minutes trying to find the right words in the right language to clarify things. Today was the first day of the Teaching and Learning Academy at the camp. It is for teachers and administrators who want to learn to create a more consistent learning environment. We had twenty takers, and things went very well. Unlike some of my American graduate students, the refugees love theory and philosophy. They are allowed to discuss in English, French, or Sango (their language in the Central African Republic), then we work things back into a classroom discussion. We talked about their philosophy of teaching today and I learned a lot about them. At one point, while talking about how unnatural classroom settings are, I asked them to tell me the things their mothers had taught them. I got many good responses, including the following, "my mother told me never to climb trees because if you do, you can fall and break your leg and die!"  It was quite coincidental and he asked why I was smiling so much as he said it. I explained and we all had a good laugh. At this point I should mention that I do not know how many African children do or do not climb trees :)  I do not want to start a stereotype.
A few pictures from today's commute:

Everyday we dodge ducks, goats, kids, bicycles, motorcycles, lorries, and assorted other obstacles. It took Yaya a little while to master this bit of English though, "Pigs in Puddles"

An average stretch of road. I cannot get over how  simple and beautiful things are here: The sky, the trees, the people, their small houses and villages. God smiles on this place.

"Mti Twiga" as I like to call this tree - The Giraffe Tree. It towers over the others and marks the 2/3 point in my journey to the camp. I could never see things in clouds, nor could I see figures in the stars. But I see things in trees :)

On the way back, from a distance......

Interrupting chores - I have not yet mastered the intonation of the Lingalan word for smile, "Ngia."  When I hold up the camera and say it they just look at me. When the driver leans out the window and says it (exactly as I did it, or so it seems), they burst out in laughter. I will work on it.

Philosophy - are humans basically good or bad? Do they want to be challenged, or are they lazy? The teachers sort these and larger issues out.

I guessed this one - it is a charcoal production facility. They start a fire, let it get very hot, cover it with wood then mud and clay and let it bake hard. 

Once back in Zongo, we stopped in the shade and got a cold orange drink. This is a luxury I allow myself once a week. Normally, I drink bottled water at room temperature. While waiting for the drink, I negotiated with this young woman for some onions. I do not understand French or the complex relationship between the US dollar and the Congolese Franc. Maybe it is a good thing I am only here two months :)

Just some children playing off of the main road (really the only road). Imagine miles and miles of trees, small clearings, immaculate huts, and children running and laughing everywhere. Yes, God smiles on this place.