Dung by Betty

Cultural integration is an important part of the Peace Corps process, and at times it can be a lofty and elusive goal.  It is difficult to gage how Kittitian I have "become," especially when my local friend still laugh when I try to speak dialect, and some of my neighbors still refer to me as "the white gyurl dung de road." Still every now and then, I have these a-ha like moments where I say to myself (never aloud,  because that would contradictory), "yup, that was SO  Kittitian." My last visit "dung by Betty," was definitely a So Kittitian worthy moment.
Betty is a local St. Paul's lady who lives down the road (aka dung de road) on the other side of the ghaut (gully). She has little board shop where Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights she sells THE ISLAND'S BEST CHICKEN & CHIPS (chips as in french fries). Friday is the big limin' night on the island, and many Kittitians prefer to take it easy and leave the cooking for the weekend. So Betty Shop (lack of apostrophe 's' intentional, ala dialect) is literally filled to well over capacity with people from all over the village. Arriving any time after 7PM pretty much guarantees that you will be waiting around 45min-1hour for a drum stick and fries. But trust me, it is worth the wait. The tricky thing is though, there is no line to wait in dung by Betty. It is just a tightly packed group of Kittitians spilling all over each other and out the door while making jokes, having a drink, talking LOT'S of trash, and yelling at Betty (who never actually leaves the back of the shop, where the frier is) to hurry up with their food.
The first time I went dung by Betty, Annivea & Fostrona carried me (as in, they took me there). You should have seen the looks on every ones faces when "the white gyurl" came walking into Betty Shop. It lasted just a split second, but there was a collective moment of shocked silence. I was really intimidated, and had no clue how to navigate the place. I gladly let Annivea take care of all of the logistics, and patiently waited for my food outside with Fostrona. It went on like this for about the next 2-3 visits. Then one evening I asked Fostrona to go with me to the shop, but planned on trying to order for myself. I reached Betty Shop before she did, and as I walked up towards everyone, the children from my school graciously greeted me in the standard Kittitian, "Miss Tiffany, good night." This kindly signaled to the others that I was familiar with St.Paul's and people knew me, I was not entirely an outsider. I was very grateful for this. I walked up to the last person standing outside the door, and took my place behind them waiting to order. I stood there about 5-10 minutes before Fostrona joined me, and when she came up to me, she asked if I had ordered yet. I said, "No I am waiting my turn." Fostrona looked confused. As mentioned before, there is no line dung by Betty.So Fostrona kinda of laughed, took up my money and asked me what I wanted, "a big or small?" and then pushed her way to the front of the crowd and shouted pass the girl at the counter to Betty in the back, "Good night! Betty please for me two small!" 40 minutes later, we had our chicken, and it was delicious.
Now that I had taken note of how this was done, I worked up my courage to try it again. This time on my own, kind of. I went on a Sunday (the slowest of the three nights), and I took another Peace Corps volunteer with me. I'll admit it, I didn't get it exactly right. There were a few raised eyebrows and giggles, but we got our chicken, and it was delicious. It took me about 2 more visits before it went well. I kept calling it a large instead of a big, and I would try to order with the girl at the counter instead of past her and directly to Betty, but my last visit dung by Betty...integration success.
It was a Friday night, just before the rush. I walked directly to the counter with ease. Greeted hello & good night to the other customers; then in a clear, steady voice called out, "Good night, Betty. Please for me a big." With that, I kept my money in my pocket and walked outside to wait. Before long, more and more of my neighbors came crowding in, I was so glad that I had beat the rush. Then after about 20mins, I heard the standard yelling and complaints of "Betty, where my chicken. I hungry now." But this time, Tessa, the counter girl's response was, "Hold up, where Tiffany, her chicken ready..." With that I jumped up, nearly skipped inside, paid for my food, yelled my thanks and headed home. I played it cool, but inside I WAS ECSTATIC, and thinking that was so Kittitian!! 1.) Tessa called me by my name, not "whitey", 2.) I had successfully ordered chicken and chips BY MYSELF, and 3.) I was gonna have enough of Betty chicken & chips for breakfast!!
To me this experience epitomizes my integration process here in St. Kitts, and specifically in St. Paul's. Of course I still have challenges with the cultural barriers. My friends laugh at the American things I do, like wearing my backpack into town on a Saturday; and I can't get the primary students to stop laughing at my accent; and I'm having a very hard time convincing people that I am Latina, and what the significance of that is. Fortunately though, I am no longer just the token white girl in St. Paul's . . .and dung by Betty, they know me by name!

Friend vs. Friendly

Since September life in St.Paul's has been running slowly, but smoothly. I have become more comfortable with the community and at the school, and with the Kittitian lifestyle in general, or so I have thought. These past two weeks have been a bit of a reality check, and has definitely shaken my confidence. This leads me to struggle with my commitment, and even though I have no intention of permanently leaving St.Kitts until my COS in Oct 2011, I could use a break. I really want to be home with friends, and family, near familiar places and foods, and in a familiar culture that I am accustom to navigating. But instead I am here, trying to to stay focused, hoping to learn from my mistakes, and looking for a way to grow and improve myself as a result.
The challenge I am facing is with the youth in St.Pauls, but more specifically the dynamic that has been created between us. Which I myself am largely responsible for. In my earnest to have the children like me and be willing to work with me, I extended myself to them in a very friendly, jovial, and accessible manner. I am often found joking and playing with all of the kids in my neighborhood and the local primary school. I mess with their hair when they mess with mine; I show them games like duck-duck-goose and red light, green light; I lift them up for hugs & kisses; I tickle them; and make them laugh when I practice my 'dialect' with them. This is a lot different from how local teachers would approach the children. With the staff at my school, there is a definitive boundary between adults and children. Not to say that the teacher are always stern or callous, but generally more serious and reserved; a definite authority figure. I have realized for sometime now, that many of the teachers seemed skeptical of my approach with the kids, but I took it in stride. I just figured this was all apart of Peace Corps Goal 2 "Helping promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served." I was glad, even proud to show them, that there is different way to do things, that I didn't need the children to fear me, that I could be an instructor and fun and friendly. The problem is, that a lot of the children are now taking advantage of my "soft" demeanor.
I thank God, that it is not all of them. Some of the children respond very well to me still. They are polite, friendly, affectionate, and respectful. They are eager to spend time with me and are cooperative when I need their attention or their help, and allow me my space when I need it. Unfortunately, this is only a fraction of the children I deal with in St.Paul's. Many of the other children now see me as a friend or a peer. They talk to me the same way that they would their classmates, which is in a way they would NEVER speak to teachers or other adults. They ignore my directions, and are often amused at my frustrations. Many time they are blatantly disrespectful, irreverent, and demanding. They will ask me to give them money or food or to visit my house to play, and when I refuse them,they strueps me (a colloquial onomatopoeia that expresses distaste). All of this makes it very hard for me to carry out projects with the student body.
During Girl's Club for example, the majority of my members are very pleasant. However each week, there is a small group of students who stand in the doorway or windows watching and commenting on the activities my girls and I are doing. Caribbean culture is notably inquisitive/intrusive(I'll have to blog about that another time), but having these children, literally staring at us makes it twice as difficult to focus my girls and implement effective programming. I ask, tell, and then yell at the bystanders to GO HOME, but they just stare back at me like I am speaking another language or duck behind a corner until I turn my back and then resume their post. Occasionally another teacher will still be on campus after school, and when I enlist them to help, the children disperse immediately, accentuating the fact that it is just me that they do not listen too. My reading projects do not fare much better. Many times when I go into the classes to facilitate the library hour, the teacher for that class will see it as an opportunity to take a break. It is common for them to leave me alone with their students. Recognizing the shift in power, many students become loud, unruly, and unresponsive to what I am doing at the front of the classroom. If I try to isolate the "difficult" child the offending student often starts to cry, which creates another uproar amongst the others. Then, when the teacher finally returns, the students quiet down and do as they are told. Again proving to me that it is my classroom management that is failing. The whole process leaves me frustrated, agitated, discouraged, and drained.
Not all of the students behave in this way. There are St.Paul's students that are enjoyable to work with, and the Girl's Club at Newton Ground Primary (a much smaller school) rebounds from similar obstacles much more easily and effectively. But my difficulties at St.Paul's are facing me like a brick wall. I know that many of my co-workers saw it coming, and may even be enjoying some feelings of schadenfreude. I guess I was distracted by other aspects of the acculturation process and this issue caught me off-guard. Regardless, this is the challenge that I am facing now. What can I do to amend the situation, how can I get these children to treat me and therefore respect me as an adult? Can I stay friendly without having them treat me as they treat their friends?

St.Pauls Village

I have been in St.Paul's since my arrival on Aug.31st. I have said it before, but it bears repeating, I love my village. Everyone on the island can tell you that St.Paul's just has it's own thing going on. It is a very tight-knit community, and I am so blessed that I have been accepted and even embraced by so many of my neighbors. Of course the kids I work with our my best ambassadors. Here are some photos and videos of them cheesing it up for the camera (they love to be in the spotlight).

TAMIA, TIQUANA, & TIHARA


AKEEM


AJA


TASHIEM


TIQUANA, TAMIA,KILANJI, TIHARA, & SHADA


Akeem's favorite subject is Spanish, and he wanted to show off his skills. He does a good job too!


Tamia


Tihara