An ironic contrast to the bold label above the door, the dark storage closet looked like anything BUT a library. Books filled unopened boxes sealed with cobwebs. More books stacked up broken shelves amid piles of rat poop. And even more books littered the dusty cement floor. Termites had sawn through dozens of pages, and dirt caked dozens more. Books, yes; a library, not quite.
Sama couldn’t take his eyes off the kids. I couldn’t take my eyes off Sama. Transfixed in a stare that exuded wonder, the look on his face spoke more than words could ever say. Unable to hear or speak, Sama grabbed my arm and pointed toward the students; he cupped his hands over his ears, then patted his chest. It was the first time the 13-year-old had met anyone else just like him.
I recently completed my longest stretch in village: 12 ½ weeks. With school out and the entire village asleep for the 30 days of Ramadan,…
My brother, Ebrima: All your friends are like 12 years old. Me: No they’re not. Ebrima: Oh, really? Me: Some are 10. Ebrima: (erupting in…
What better way to explore the world than through art? As part of a neat project called One World Classrooms Art Exchange, my fourth graders submitted…
My host father is a man of few words. But when he does speak, they are words of wisdom. When he speaks – people listen. In honor of Father’s Day, here are some quotes from the man I proudly call “Baba.”
I decided to invite my new site mates who just so happen to be agriculture volunteers to help me. I also asked the four grade 10 students who attended Camp GLOW (Girls and Guys Leading Our World) if they would be interested in teaching the gardening skills they learned there. Luckily, everyone was on board and my school-garden training was born despite my lack of a green thumb!
