“How do I stay safe while traveling abroad?” Here’s a good list of tips to keep you safe wherever your travels may take you.
1. Make sure you are up-to-date with all of your vaccines (country specific).
2. Register with the embassy so they know when you will be abroad and where.
3. Maintain awareness of your surroundings:
-note entrances and exits
-note where the police station and hospital are
-note a safe public space you can go in an emergency
-know what is going on in the country, observe local media
-know what would be considered “abnormal” in a given situation or location
-have someone in-country you can check in with and keep updated on your whereabouts
-be aware of pickpocketing, don’t keep all your valuables in one place
4. Personal Conduct:
-maintain professionalism
-don’t become so comfortable in your environment that you act recklessly
-be aware that alcohol and being out late are common factors in potentially dangerous situations
-don’t walk around in a large group
5. If you find yourself in a potentially dangerous situation:
-assess what is going on
-stay calm
-get away
-check in with your contact
When I was deployed in Iraq in 2004, one of my duties was searching supply trucks coming into forward operating U.S. military bases. After my duty shift was completed, I would hang around in the secure area with the truck drivers. They were from all over the region including Egypt, Pakistan, Bahrain, and Turkey to name a few, and some of my most special memories are from my time spent with those friends. Since that deployment, I have always thought about seeing the countries and experiencing the culture of my friends. By the end of my volunteer service in Jordan, I will have accomplished the spirit of that goal after visiting Egypt, Turkey, Iraq, Oman, and the United Arab Emirates. In every country, I was greeted and welcomed. One thing that surprised me was the excitement people had when they learned I was an “Ammeerikan.” I received invitations for dinner, people bought me soft drinks, offered me tea and coffee, and wanted my e-mail address to stay connected.
However, the highlight of this journey was returning to Iraq. My purpose there was to meet some Iraqi friends from my Alma Mater. They had participated in the Iraqi Young Leader Exchange Program that was funded by the U.S. embassy in Baghdad. I also teamed up with an Iraqi dentist who I had known for some time and, together, we held an oral health education workshop in a school for the hearing impaired. I will remember that experience forever. The children were so excited and grateful, and the day was about more than just passing out toothbrushes, toothpaste, and explaining why it is important to properly care for teeth: we showed the children that people care about them, and, as an American, I like to believe that I gave them a positive impression of America. I believe that small acts of kindness lead to bigger acts of kindness.
During another part of my trip to an Iraq, a man from Baghdad said he instantly knew I was an American because of my pale white skin, and he shook my hand. We talked about politics, as many people I met liked to do, specifically the relationship between America and Iraq. He told me ‘the past is past’ and ‘thank you for being here.’ He explained that he does not want America to give up on Iraq, and he believes that the future of Iraq will be brighter than the dark days of the past. Our conversation made me feel so welcomed in Iraq – that I had made a good decision to come back.
In Oman I met two young guys from Pakistan who had been working in Oman for several years because they could not find decent work in Pakistan. I was saying my final goodbye to them after two days of their hospitality when one asked me why America hates his country and his people. I felt sad and embarrassed because I knew he had a basis for asking such a question. The mood turned bright again when I told them they would always be welcome at my house. They showed instant enthusiasm and proceeded to invite me to stay with them and meet their families in Pakistan. Sometime down the road I hope we cross paths again, either in America or Pakistan.
My journey in the Middle East has ended, and the message I want to deliver is strong. I want the people of the United States to realize that the culture and people of the Middle East are much more than what American news media talks about. I want to highlight the positivism that keeps the Middle East moving forward and describe how I was met with such hospitality. A college student I met in Iraq is an activist and co-founded Iraqi Streets 4 Change. She is an alumna of the Iraqi Young Leaders Exchange Program and was named State Alumni Member of the Month by the U.S. Department of State. She has strong leadership skills and promotes civic engagement among Arab youth through social media. Another college student and friend of mine is working on her MBA in international management and leadership and works as a coordinator in the health department for Kurdistan Save the Children, the biggest NGO in Iraq. She is also an alumna of the Iraqi Young Leaders Exchange Program. These young women are just two examples of people doing great work – the kind of work that many in the Middle East are doing on a daily basis and, in some cases, at great personal risk – because they believe in the communities in which they live.
Volunteer with America’s Unofficial Ambassadors 2013 summer service programs!
Unofficial Ambassadors build relations between America and the Muslim World by volunteering full-time with a school or grassroots organization in Zanzibar or Indonesia for 5 -12 weeks. In the process, volunteers gain hands-on professional experience, learn local languages, and can earn academic credit from their university.
In a special webinar on October 18th, 2012, America’s Unofficial Ambassadors will offer an informational session with AUA Director Ben Orbach on these upcoming summer programs in Yogyakarta and Zanzibar.
There are limited spaces available for this AUA event. Please RSVP to Stefanc(at)creativelearning.org to receive instructions on how to access the webinar, which will be held from 12-12:30 pm EDT on October 18th.
The following is a post from AUA Network member Kyle Scott Herman who is teaching History in Lebanon.
My classroom is typical by American standards, including a projector so that I can display power points and videos. The students expect visual stimulation.
My first day of school as a teacher was a half day so I only met 3 of my 5 classes, but it was intense. First impressions are important and it’s weird to think that the perspectives 70 students have towards history, civics, and current events could be in my hands.
The one thing I was nervous about before I came to Lebanon had nothing to do with wars or social unrest or living in the Middle East; I was nervous about teaching. Sure, I spent the summer trying to teach myself to teach, but I’ve never received any formal training or earned any teaching certificates that are usually required. I would have been just as nervous if I was taking on the responsibility in the States. Lebanon lacks standards that America and most other countries have to prevent inexperienced people like me from being hired. Before I came here, I saw a frontpage story on Lebanon’s main English news site that began: “A lack of guidelines and assessment regulations is leading Lebanese high schools to become saturated with under-qualified teachers…” So yes, I am one of those villainous under-qualified teachers saturating a Lebanese high school. But I take it as a challenge to prove that I am capable.
I received a lot of helpful advice from the more experienced teachers. Almost all of it regarded classroom management and the need to start the year as a strong and strict authoritarian. This seemed to reinforce a feeling I sometimes had as a student that some teachers care more about wielding power than inspiring interest, which can make learning seem like a chore. Now I understand that sometimes it is necessary to start strict because you can always lighten up later, but if you start the year too friendly and relaxed then you cannot become stricter later. The principal’s philosophy is that you should always strive to be respected and never to be loved because if the students respect you they will end up loving you more because they will learn more than with a friendly teacher who is too accommodating.
The principal and many of the teachers have a rule that students must stand when they enter the classroom. So this morning after I greeted students at the door by handing them an assignment to begin, I walked to the front of the classroom and asked: “Do you stand when your other teachers enter the room?” Slightly panicked faces looked up from their assignments as the students awkwardly scrambled to their feet. I paused for a few seconds, expressionless, as I scanned the room with my eyes. “You may be seated.” In that moment, my nerves disappeared and I knew I was in control.
Some of the 34 students in my 10th grade class were talking instead of working on the assignment while I passed out name tags and answered questions, but I will have to be strict with them. They should get the message when I deduct points from the assignments they failed to complete because they didn’t care to use their time properly. I probably would have been horrified by the previous sentence if I had seen it 5 years ago, and now I can’t believe I’m in the position where I feel it is justified.
I originally thought my 12th graders would be mixed in with my 11th graders since there are only 3 of them, but now I am teaching them separately and it will probably be my favorite class. Up until this year, the school only taught through 11th grade, but Lebanon’s education standards changed. So now I get to teach them a completely new curriculum based on their needs and interests. We had a good discussion today, basically sitting around and talking about what topics might be fun to study.
Participants march to the Governor’s residence on the sixth day of the caravan
Recently I attended a Youth Caravan in The Gambia to cover the event for Tostan’s Communications Department. The objective of the annual six-day caravan was to inspire cross-village and cross-generational interaction. One youth participant and one facilitator from 73 Tostan villages came together to form a large group that visited five other Tostan communities representing three different ethnic groups. This caravan visited two Serahule, two Mandinka, and one Fula village. In each village, youth participants presented to the host community what they had been learning through Tostan’s three-year Community Empowerment Program (CEP) as well as its importance. After spending a night in a village, the group moved on to another the next day.
Getting to The Gambia from Dakar was a bit of a hassle. The initial voyage took 17 hours. I woke up at 6:00 a.m., was at the gare routière or transport station by 7:30 a.m. and on the road in a sept-place by 8:00 a.m. A sept-place, an old station wagon that seats seven people plus the driver, is Senegal’s preferred mode of transportation for long distances – always very crowded with a lot of luggage strapped on the roof (often including large farm animals like sheep). I always get stuck in the back.
A sheep on top of a sept-place
Once I reached the border six hours later, I grabbed my bags, got my passport stamped on the Senegal side, walked across the border and bought my visa at the Gambian immigration office. I then took a taxi to another garage in Bara where I met up with Lilli, the Tostan volunteer in The Gambia. We waited three hours for a sept-place to fill up and then embarked on another six-hour ride to Basse. The Gambia has a gazillion police checkpoints so we stopped every half hour, which chewed up a lot of time. After crossing the Gambian River, we arrived in Basse, the Upper River Region’s (URR) largest city, around midnight.
A crowd gathers around caravan buses arriving in a village
A youth participant speaks about human rights during the afternoon ceremony
The next day was the first day of the six-day Caravan, which was an amazing experience but super exhausting. We spent each day in a different village. In the morning we woke up, ate breakfast, packed up the vans and headed to the next village. Each afternoon featured a ceremony where participants spoke about youth rights, for example, the right to education, the right to chose one’s husband, and the right to be registered at birth. Then host community members performed a skit. Participants in the last village we visited performed a powerful play about a teenage girl who gets seduced by a young man who promises her money; she becomes pregnant and dies during childbirth. In the final scene, the actors sang a funeral song warning about the dangers of teenage pregnancy. Other skits addressed the importance of education and the consequences of child/forced marriage. The speeches and skits were in local languages, so Tostan Supervisors translated for Lilli and me.
Scenes from the play in Bassendi
After closing words by local leaders, such as the Female President of the village and the National Coordinator of Tostan Gambia, we had some down time before dinner. I ate a lot of rice and meat that week. It seemed we had fruity soda after every meal, as well (I’ve been eating a lot of vegetables and drinking a lot of water this week!). Every evening included a cultural night of dancing, poetry recitation, and cultural entertainment. Lilli and I were usually so exhausted that we left the soirée early to go to bed.
Alisa with the crowd during a cultural night
The sixth day took place in Basse and was my favorite. All of the Caravan participants, over 200, and Tostan organizers gathered at the Tostan office and marched to the residence of the Governor of URR. There youth participants presented a manifesto stating what they wanted from the government as support in their quest to improve the lives of Gambian youth. Key points included education scholarships for girls and boys, skill training centers for technical jobs, and better enforcement of laws prohibiting child/forced marriage.
Youth participant, Fatou Baldé, presents the manifesto
My favorite part was riding on the back of Moussa’s motorbike while taking video footage of the march. I took a lot of video throughout the week and am hoping to put together a short piece for Tostan’s blog or website. My written article is currently featured on Tostan’s blog and soon to be in the November Newsletter. Very exciting!
Alisa filming on the back of Moussa’s motorbike
I had so much fun and hope to cover another Tostan event in the future. The experience was incredibly enriching and one of the best times I’ve had since living in West Africa, although I was quite anxious to get back to my bed and overhead shower after a week of changing mattresses and taking bucket baths!
Ba beneen yoon! – Until next time!
Photos courtesy of Elizabeth Loveday, Tostan Regional Volunteer in The Gambia.
In America, how many times do we toss around the ideas of “service” and “volunteering” as just one of those things you do when you have enough material goods that they start to make you feel vaguely guilty? I know that for many of us, volunteering means taking an hour or two to take some clothes to a donation point, some food to a food pantry, maybe even spending some time with local kids or elderly neighbors. Don’t get me wrong, these are all important things that we should be proud to do as part of a community. But that’s not the only concept of service that exists in the world. This summer, I experienced a pretty different way of looking at things as I spent some time being a member of our global community.
If you’ve never tried volunteering with an international organization, you’re definitely missing out. Now I don’t mean going with a U.S. project to a foreign country. You need to work with a group organized by people who actually live in the country you’re in. While I was in Palestine, I had the good fortune to work with one such organization called Holy Land Trust. Founders and employees all live in either Bethlehem, Beit Sahour, or Beit Jala and are for the most part native Palestinians. As such, they are in a unique position to place volunteers because they are personally aware of the needs of the community. Their awareness and constant contact with civil society partners provide anincredibly rich volunteer experience because they are able to place volunteers with particular skills in the places they are most needed. The result is that the people you work with are always thrilled to have you there. Often it feels more like you are a temporary employee because your tasks may be essential to the function of the organization – there’s simply not enough time or money for someone else to do them. The ensuing sense of fulfillment is immense. Knowing that you made a real difference somewhere outside your own head is a feeling that these days can be fairly hard to come by. At the same time, you discover that the people you thought you had been serving have possibly been giving more back to you in return.
While I worked at al-Malath Charitable Society in Beit Sahour, I was given gifts that turned out to be something quite spectacular. The Center was a pre-vocational school for teens and young adults with developmental and mental disabilities. Founded by a driven mother, every day spent there was full of patience, excitement, and discovery for all present. The goal in founding the organization came out of a lack in the community that was felt by a frustrated mother. Although she was the wife of a well-off restaurant owner, this woman struggled daily with her son. In his twenties, Hassan needed constant care and supervision, but is family wanted something better for him than an adult daycare or a sitter at home. Despite having the money to place him in a program where he could make as many developmental gains as possible, no such place existed in the Bethlehem area. And so with typical Palestinian determination, a group of women got together and started one themselves. At work I met Saana, a female Muslim occupational therapist and social worker, and Wa’el, a male Christian special education teacher. Our summer team was completed with another volunteer, Kelly from Colorado, who did a lot of work on the website, and myself. My greatest contribution, I think, was helping to edit and compose progress and donor reports for the organization that provided their funding. Since the audience of the reports would be other Americans, I wanted the writing to be as perfect as possible for my temporary colleagues. Their hard work kept the organization up and running – it was the least I could do to make sure that the description of all that effort said exactly all the great things they were doing.
In comparison to all the things I was given, that short statement of my contribution, no matter how important it may have been, seems kind of small. Lunch and tea each day became an awesome part of my week as Saana and Wa’el taught me more words than I ever learned in Arabic class and Kelly and I traded stories of the kinds of adventures that come when you try and live somewhere like the Middle East. I learned how to count to ten while I was helping Rami, a young man with Downs Syndrome, make finger rosaries to sell and help raise money. Dance time and household teaching tasks were always an adventure and the passion that everyone working there brought to their jobs was inspiring. I loved watching their patience and gentleness and the amount of time they spent at the Center had to have been far more extensive than what their salaries covered. Essentially, I miss my time there every day and I think everyone should have the same kind of wonderful experience!
Guediawaye water basin. This area floods when it rains and poses huge health/safety hazards.
In addition to education on human rights, health and hygiene, literacy, math, and project management, part of the CEP is the formation of local organizations called CMCs. CMCs are made up of local leaders and are responsible for carrying out projects to better the community even after the completion of the Tostan program. Some examples of CMC projects include constructing a well, fundraising for a millet grinder, selling millet, creating an irrigation system for a community garden, making and selling soap, etc. CMCs focus much of their effort on “income-generating activities” (IGAs), but they are also responsible for maintaining the health and safety of their community. Each CMC is made up of several commissions (health, child protection, education, the environment, etc.) which raise money and lobby for new projects. For example, the Health Commission may lobby for a newposte de santéor small health clinic. The Education Commission may raise money and purchase school supplies. Guediaweye’s Environment Commission is lobbying for a new fence around the water basin to keep children and animals from falling into the water.
Micro-garden and sewing machines used by CMC members for income-generating activities.
At the social mobilization event, Guediawaye’s CMC, which is made up primarily of women (way cool!), showcased its recent projects, which include cereal preservation, soap making, and fabric dying among other income-generating activities. But before attending the main event, Elaine, Lucy (Tostan volunteers), and I interviewed the CMC Coordinator, Nogoye, and another key member, Marième, for the article Eliane was writing for Tostan’s blog. Marième is blind, and her success has made her a local celebrity. She attended all of Tostan’s CEP sessions and participated in every activity except those concerning literacy. She and other CMC members in Guediawaye are urging Tostan to translate materials into Braille so that people who are visually impaired can fully participate.
From left to right: CMC member, Marième, Nogoye, and Oumou, a CEP facilitator.
Even though Marième cannot see, she sells vegetables and braids hair for a small profit. At the end of our interview, I asked Marième how she could count money if she could not see it. I knew that she would be able to but thought she might enjoy showing off her skills. We role played me buying a handkerchief from her. Instead of giving her 100 CFA, the price she stated, I handed her 50 CFA, a smaller coin. She immediately called me out. To make things more difficult, I handed her a 2,000 CFA bill. She took less than 10 seconds to name the bill. Then she pulled out a handful of change from her purse and counted it out rapid fire. The seven or so women in the room cheered her on. The exercise was a lot of fun and made every one laugh.
Beaded sandals and bagged cereal made by CMC members.
Eliane, Lucy, and I headed to the main event after the interviews. First we looked at the table of products made by the CMC (bags of millet, soap, beaded sandals, and dyed fabric). Then we took our places in plastic chairs under the big tent. The MC introduced the event, and then Nogoye, Marième, and other community leaders gave small speeches. After the opening words, there was a small competition where the MC asked audience members (mostly girls and women who participated in the CEP) questions relating to the Tostan program. Those who responded correctly chose from a table of prizes, which included soap, hair gel, and sanitary napkins. For the quiz questions, the MC had the audience members read sentences in Wolof, answer simple math problems, and answer questions about human rights.
Audience members and a CEP participant wearing her classroom tunic.
After the competition, a handful of girls acted out a skit in which a woman, Aminata, learns that she has HIV. During the play, the girls acting giggled after their lines and audience members often laughed in the way you would when someone you know really well is acting in an informal skit. I imagine that the situation addressed in the play does not often result in such a happy ending. The stigma surrounding HIV/AIDs in rural/suburban Senegalese communities is significant largely because of misinformation and lack of education. In addition, any illness of a family member is a hush-hush topic not talked about openly. The fact that these girls acted out such a taboo issue in front of a large audience is huge and signifies a milestone in health education and reducing the stigma of HIV/AIDs in Guediawaye.
I asked Nogoye, the CMC coordinator, why all of the Tostan participants in this town were women. She told me that the men and boys were usually at work or at school. Tostan’s Community Empowerment Program gives people without access to formal education, who are usually female, the opportunity to learn and better their. One could argue that instead of providing informal education, Tostan should be working at the systemic level to make sure that women and girls do have access to formal education. I’m not sure which approach is best, but from what I’ve seen and read, working at the grassroots level is more sustainable. If decisions and social movements come from the bottom up, then systemic/policy change is more likely to be long lasting than if some outside party pushes reform from the top down. Though this process may take a long time, the results are long term benefits instead of temporary successes.
The highlight of the afternoon may have been when word got out that I could dance Uusa (pronounced “yooza”), the current popular dance in Senegal. The MC called me up to dance in front of the audience. I told him I couldn’t dance without music, so he quickly had the DJ put on some tunes. So I danced. People clapped, cheered, and laughed hysterically. There’s nothing funnier than a toubab chick trying to dance to Senegalese music. I really have no idea how to dance Uusa; I just mimic what I see other people doing. Apparently, I do alright because people always ask me, “How did you learn to dance so well?” Either I actually look like I know what I’m doing or they’re just humoring me – probably the latter. I don’t mind, however, because my dancing seems to make people very happy, which makes me happy.
After Uusa-ing off the dance floor, Eliane, Lucy, and I said good bye to our hosts and hopped back into the Tostan car for the 30 minute bumpy ride back to Dakar. The afternoon was very pleasant and a great way to take a break from the office. I would love to go back and visit the CMC women again. I’m sure they would all recognize me as the dancing toubab. There are worse things to be remembered for!
For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I need a map to know where I am. I’ve always been a bit of a nomad and my view of the horizon never looks the same for long. I’m fond of regular changes in scenery and I travel with an open heart and an open mind. My name is Lindsay and at this very moment, I am preparing to move to the beautiful city of Nablus to teach English and art deep in the heart of the West Bank of the Palestinian Territories.
In less than a week, I will be joining a team of local and international volunteers brought together to lead educational, artistic, and recreational programs for children and members of the community in the greater Nablus area. The organization is called Project Hope and was founded in 2003 with a vision to empower the Palestinian youth who have grown up amidst violence and occupation by providing them with the tools to reach their full potential. Although I’ll be doing much of the teaching, I feel that it will be me who has received the greatest education when my time volunteering nears completion.
It was through Project Hope that I was introduced to the America’s Unofficial Ambassadors initiative. Before applying for a Mosaic Scholarship, I wanted to be absolutely sure that I could effectively represent what they stood for. I share the same values and beliefs outlined by Creative Learning when it comes to tolerance, opportunity for all, and an overall belief in empowering people. I was moved by learning of an organization that saw the importance of building peace by improving relationships between America and the Muslim World. As I embark on a journey of a lifetime with the support of family, friends, the Creative Learning staff, and the financial help, most notably in the form of a Mosaic Scholarship, I can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude and hope.
Preparing for My Journey
Looking down at the Red Cloud backpack before me, I am impressed at what I have managed to squeeze into this miracle bag. Packed into this bag, along with some art supplies, and an English grammar book, are several packets of seasoning bagged and wrapped carefully to prevent opening. Flavored dips, chili powder, and spicy mesquite rubs have all been placed in the depths of my backpack right next to the box of cornbread, and quick-bake chocolate cake. I understand traveling to the Middle East with spices may seem like bringing sand to the beach, but there is a method to my madness.
From what I’ve been told throughout my travels, an overwhelming majority of people have the impression that the American diet leaves much to be desired. When asked to describe a typical American meal, the response is often a spot-on description of the dollar menu at McDonald’s, Burger King, or occasionally K.F.C. The common factor being the emphasis on greasy, unhealthy, hurried meals centered on quasi meat products. This is where my spice stash comes in. In an attempt to break some culinary stereotypes, I am bringing seasonings from the U.S. I want to share my love for traditional North American food, be that soul food or a Thanksgiving dinner equipped with the “three sisters”, corn, beans, and squash. Great friendships are established while sharing a delicious meal and some of the best conversations happen around a dinner table.
Just as important as introducing a few entrees of my own, will be learning how to cook with the staple ingredients found in Palestinian dishes. I am looking forward to studying the ways of Palestinian women working their magic in the kitchen. One can learn a lot hanging around chefs because every recipe comes with a story. When I return home with all the new spices I’ve grown fond of and a memory full of anecdotes to match, I’ll be able to entice people with my own spin on some traditional Palestinian fare. With that, I can possibly influence public opinion one dinner party and taste bud at a time.
Expected Outcomes
The majority of reactions from individuals who I’ve shared my travel plans with have been absolutely supportive. People are anxious to hear how it really is. They know my intentions and are confident that I will “do right” by the American people…”do right” by ALL people. I’m there to teach. I’m there to learn. I’m there to listen to the stories and share my own.
I hope that by following my journey, people are inspired to discuss topics that typically get little attention or are commonly understood to have harmful, negative undertones. I hope these conversations compel people to explore the best parts of themselves by connecting along human lines. What better time to take into account the idea that the actions of one person can truly make all the difference in establishing relationships that surmount the often callous interactions between those who represent us on a larger scale. As I meet new people over the next few months who will undoubtedly have a huge impact on my life, I will keep in mind that I have a responsibility to do the same for others. How amazing it will be to celebrate our achievements in the near future.
After a couple weeks in the field working on sanitation, microfinance, legal aid and agriculture programs, I was really looking forward to my first visit to a BRAC school. As it turns out, the students were quite excited themselves.
We had dismounted our rickshaws at the edge of the village whose school we would be visiting. We began the twenty-minute walk through lush greenery and muddy trails and worked our way past clay homes and tin shacks. The path led us to a picturesque clearing surrounded by banana and mango trees, home to the village’s BRAC school. Outside the one-room tin schoolhouse, we saw the students’ colorful sandals arranged in a perfect circle. Their teacher later explained that each morning, they lay out their sandals just so, to instill ideals of routine, order and care. We added our shoes to the display and entered the school.
As soon as we appeared in the doorway, the children enthusiastically and respectfully stood up to greet us, and quickly executed the first of many traditional song and dance performances they had prepared for us. The teacher explained that they had learned of our upcoming visit three months prior, and had since begged to practice the routines every single day. Now that the day was upon us, most of the girls had arrived to school an hour early, dressed in their family’s nicest clothes. They looked beautiful and their performances were absolutely lovely.
Throughout the day, we interviewed the teacher, played with the students and spoke with many of the parents. We learned about BRAC’s unique approach to education, and observed first hand how well it works. BRAC addresses education as a root cause of poverty, and hopes to break into the perpetual cycle by greatly improving the educational opportunities to students throughout rural Bangladesh. High dropout rates, the cultural prevalence of early marriage, and the unavailability of schools and/or transportation in rural areas have plagued the formal education sector for decades.
The BRAC education program hoped to supplement this government sector when it began in 1985 with the creation of the first 22 schools. Today, there are more than 35,000 schools nation-wide, all run sustainably without any help from the government. In its first fifteen years, the program reached more than 1.5 million students, 70 percent of whom were girls.
What’s more, BRAC schools consistently have impressive student-teacher ratios, incredible student retention rates and higher standardized test scores than their government school counterparts. Yet, a BRAC education, though free to students and their families, costs $20 per year compared to a government school’s $52 per year. It is BRAC’s unique model and innovative approaches that has created this anomaly, which seems almost too good to be true.
Before deciding to open a school in a particular village, BRAC officials (mostly women) meet with parents several times. The parents learn about their children’s educational potential and promise to send them to school each day and attend monthly parent-teacher meetings. Three mothers form a management committee with the teacher. This committee checks in with the school regularly, and if a student is absent, they go to the student’s home to check on them. A mother from the village is actually chosen and trained as the school’s teacher. BRAC usually selects an uneducated woman and provides her with complete initial training and monthly refresher courses. She receives a salary for this important job and becomes a hero in her village.
We had the chance to sit in a monthly refresher course at a BRAC regional office and were very impressed with the women’s abilities.
The school calendar and hours are set each season by the management committee and parents. If needed, the school will run two shifts each day to keep class size under BRAC’s maximum of 33. The hours are set according the families’ needs, often changing with each harvesting season. The location of the one-room school is very carefully chosen – as close to students’ homes as possible.
In this particular schoolhouse, we asked the parents what their children did before the school was built. Most children worked. The boys were often field laborers and the girls were house help. The closest government school is over 15 kilometers away, with no transportation provided. Additionally, the school requires that students purchase a uniform, which is a significant financial deterrent for most families. So, without this BRAC school, these vibrant and intelligent nine to twelve year old kids singing, dancing and practicing English with us would instead be working as day laborers, with no chance of an education.
BRAC has always exhibited a completely apolitical approach and maintains an amicable relationship with the Bangladesh government. BRAC’s vision is a future without the need for aid. Their schools, like many of their programs, are working to bridge the gap between the country’s high need and the government’s limited potential. Hopefully, in time, the government will learn from and incorporate BRAC schools into the formal sector and all students will officially have access to proper education. Perhaps when these happy, bright and talented young students eventually have children of their own, they will have multiple quality education options.
I also had the chance to visit a government school, and of course those uniform-clad students are just as vibrant and adorable.
Wow Alison! This seems like an awesome experience – Great job!
As a leader in international volunteering, America’s Unofficial Ambassadors is always searching for smart and innovative ways that average American’s can volunteer abroad. Enter David Clemmons, and his concept of VolunTourism. VolunTourism encourages individuals to travel in a way that allows tourists to give back the community they are visiting and gain meaninginful experiences while abroad. To really understand the idea, please check out the VolunTourist Newsletter, a fantastic source of news and information on global voluntourism initiatives, the impact of international voluntary service, and best practices in the industry. In his post, David Clemmons, founder of VolunTourism.org, praises of one of AUA’s Directory-listed programs: Habitat for Humanity’s (HFH) Global Village Program. Read on to learn about how HFH’s Jordan program has successfully combined meaningful volunteer service and community engagement with cultural tourism experiences. If building homes together with low-income families and visiting one of the Seven Wonders of the World sounds captivating to you as well, check out HFH’s profile on the AUA Directory for more information about how you can join a Global Village team and volunteer with HFH in the Muslim World.
