EIL Intercultural Learning - EIL volunteer abroad

Washout at MTV Exit!!!

Amusicum — Wed, 03 Aug 2011 09:58:39 +0000

Hello all, My name is Aoife, reporting from the art volunteer base in Thailand! This build-up to the big MTV Exit event this Saturday was immense. The event, held at the 700 Year Stadium in Chiang Mai, aimed to raise awareness of human trafficking

Within the project, both staff and volunteers, had spent weeks preparing canvases for an anti human trafficking maze, which was to be set up outside the stadium, along with the many information booths. I myself helped in laying out what information was to go on each panel. After some summarising and minor alterations, the design was complete and we spent the rest of the week preparing the canvases (painting them white) and writing the chosen statistics/images on the canvases using permanent markers and paint. The introductory panels asked some central questions regarding human trafficking, notably 'What is human trafficking,' Why does human trafficking occur?' and 'How can human trafficking be stopped?' These panels were highly interactive, with markers provided for visitors to write down their own perceptions about human trafficking. Other important sections included a display of art from the children of Thai Freedom House, featuring powerful anti-trafficking images, and art work from the girls of the New Life Centre, displaying their hopes for the future.

At the centre of the maze was a papier mache globe, covered in black and white anti-trafficking images and with the countries of the world marked out in coloured wool and clearly labelled in Thai. The different colours of the wool corresponded to countries with high/moderate/low human trafficking levels in terms of country of origin and destination of the trafficking victims. Displayed around the globe were important statistics about human trafficking, written in both English and Thai, and hopeful messages to conclude. The maze was designed to be as interactive as possible, with some question panels, with pull-off covers to display shocking answers. A powerful anti-trafficking image designed by another Irish volunteer, Aisling, using the slogan 'Not for Sale' adorned the front of the maze, with a funny cut-out area for people to pop their faces through. Many people who came enjoyed this feature of the maze!On Thursday, we set up the whole maze outside the office and it all worked according to plan. Each canvas was attached to a bamboo pole at the corner and then attached to another canvas using thick string.

But alas, 'WHY DOES IT ALWAYS RAIN ON ME???', as Travis would holler! Well... when it rains in Chiang Mai during rainy season, it really does pour! At Saturday lunchtime, we left the office with bamboo sticks in tow. Just as we arrived at the stadium, little droplets of sorrow appeared on the window screen of the car. It was raining!!! We started assembling all the bamboo sticks in their correct places outside the stadium, waiting for the rest of the staff to arrive with the canvases. A few more showers ensued but we still held high hopes that we would get through the afternoon relatively unscathed in moisture terms. We started putting up all the canvases, the heavens opened and it started to POUR rain!!! Tarps were raised, in a hope that all could be salvaged, everyone ducking for cover under umbrellas and raincoats!!! Alas, after half an hour, the maze had to be abandoned, so as to salvage as many of the canvases as possible. Nevertheless, we kept our promotional stall alive, with our human trafficking globe still available to view, as well as the cut-out face image!

At this stage it is fair to say that we were all sopping wet and drenched to the skin! We hoisted the bamboo poles and canvases into the van and we were on our way again! Us three volunteers (myself, Niki and Aisling) decided to brave the concert. After all, water is a valuable natural resource (although not so much when you are wallowing in it!). We wanted to make the best of our day at the MTV Exit, so we stayed on to see and hear the hoard of Super Junior fans! And they came in droves!!!!! The event also featured the up and coming Australian singer, Kate Miller, who proved to be a particular hit with us volunteers! Just a few minutes before we left, Super Junior came on stage, to multiple screams from the crowd surrounding us! This was an entertaining end to what tuned out to be a very interesting day, which left us singing in the rain, quite literally!

Until next time!!!
Aoife

Rock and Roll!

Caitriona — Tue, 12 Jul 2011 15:14:21 +0000

Karl Connelly working in an orphanage in the Southern Nepali District, July 2011.

Nepal 1: Teaching guitar to some of the older children, who have surprised me with how quickly they learn

Paula Mc Donagh's 1st Impressions of India

Caitriona — Wed, 06 Jul 2011 15:54:43 +0000

27th of June: Start of My Trip: My big, exciting and at times quite scary adventure started today. The plane journey was quite enjoyable with minimal problems, slept a lot and the in-flight entertainment was good. On the flight I got my first impressions of the Indian people, they come across as very upfront and blunt, which I'm sure my friends would find quite hypocritical coming from me ha, but they do tend to take it to a whole new level. It can take awhile to get used to but it is genuinely just there way. Arrived in Delhi around 11 in the morning Indian time, this was definitely an experience to say the least. It took a long time to collect my bags, nearly had palpitations worrying they were lost as I had a lot of supplies for the children I will be teaching in them, eventually I got them all in tact which was great as a lot of the other volunteers had a lot of problems.

I was always aware the Indian males viewed females quite differently than at home but nothing could have prepared me for the extent of this sexism. The word chivalry is something the males in this country do not understand, I was pushed out of the que on numerous occasions in the airport and for a finish found myself pushing back. I feel the most disturbing thing was they knew what they were doing but yet felt they were more important than I was due to my gender. As you will read on in my blogs the extent of the sexism intensified as I spent longer in India. Indian men also tend to stare at Western Women in a derogatory and quite sexual manner, which will take a lot of getting used to and was certainly intimidating when I was on my own in the airport. Personally, I think that owing to the fact their culture and views towards male and female relations are so strict and it is frowned upon for a man and a woman to even hold hands in public without being married, the men see Western Women as liberalised and as sexualised individuals which is a very annoying stereotype and as a female in India is very hard to deal with as I noticed from such an early stage in the airport. It does attract a lot of unwanted attention. Yet it is perfectly normal and acceptable for Indian males to hold hands and cuddle in public, another huge and quite a strange contradiction in their culture that I have observed.

The customs in the airport were extremely strict and everything including my passports, visa and luggage were triple checked- if everything in India was so thorough I feel that more important social problems would be on the way to being repaired instead of everything being so relaxed and all over the place. The security also take the word frisking quite literally and as they all carry huge guns I was against irritating any of them ha. My final flight to Jaipur was on a small plane that was definitely made for small people so it suited me down to the ground ha. Up to this point my journey had thankfully ran smoothly, but things went rapidly downhill from hereafter-at least till I reached the volunteer house anyway. On the “small” place I was sitting beside an elderly Indian man with very good English, who came across as very nice. At the point where he invited me to his hotel for a meal and access to his car, I began to feel uncomfortable. I tried to pretend I was asleep which also failed to work as he just shouted louder at me. To say my new best friend was more forward than Irish men would be an understatement, he continued to persist up to the point where I met my Idex drive outside the airport. As appealing as the offer of a date with someone older than my dad sounded I thought it best to turn it down ha. Overall the experience of travelling completely alone was fine and it was really only my final flight I felt uncomfortable on, also owing to the fact apart from the air hostesses, I was the only female and white person on board, bit of a double whammy really ha.

The volunteer house was a great place to stay and I immediately felt at home and comfortable with the other volunteers. There is a lot of Irish here so it feels a bit like a home away from home. The food is nice, spicy but you get used to it. The heat and humidity takes a bit more getting used to but the air con in the volunteer house helps a lot. I was also surprised at the amount of space in my room, I got top bunk which I usually have issues with as I do tend to fall out but has actually been grand, apart from nearly strangling myself with my mosquito net ha. Day one went surprisingly well.

29th June. Day 2:

Note to self: Do not lock your keys into your case after you have locked it as picking locks is quite the challenge-ha.

Woke up early this morning to the beautiful sound of a bird screeching as if it were being murdered and let me tell you it would want to watch its back if it ever wakes me in such a manner again ha-ha. Breakfast today was ok, must get peanut butter and jam for myself for tomorrow. Then myself and the other volunteers that arrived at the same time had our orientation day. We travelled on the main mode of transport they have here, which is called a rickshaw and basically a motorised bike, definitely one of the best ways to see India authentically. Something I soon realised about the Indian roads is that rules of the road don't apply here and anything and everything goes. A beep generally means the driver can do what he likes and this includes pulling out in the middle of 3 or 4 cars, not one for the faint hearted but I enjoyed in. The huge contrast between rich and poor soon became very evident, for example there is wealthy shops such as nike on one side of the street and then across the road people eating and living on piles of rubbish-so sad. Our orientation day was just about the norms in the country etc and the projects we would be doing.

When we had finished our orientation we went shopping in the Big Bazaar, a little like dunnes but with security more strict than customs. Bought some food here, nothing too exciting. On our way back to the volunteer house we encountered a lot of begging which was very upsetting to see, especially little kids as young as my two year old nephew running around naked and hungry, playing among pee and poo yet surprisingly happy- a lot to be learnt from this. A lot of the people begging are sent out to beg each day and don't even get to keep the money themselves, yet another injustice, yet a reality in India. The rest of the evening was spent relaxing with the other volunteers. Really can't wait to get a start on my project now.

30th June- Day 3.

Note to self: Do not apply deet to your new clothes unless you want to look like a blue smurf for the day ha.

Today I woke later and very refreshed. Breakfast was yum and I love the Indian tea- chai. Went to our orientation again, had a class in Hindi, lets just say its a good thing we are here to teach and not learn ha. Learnt some interesting facts too, arranged marriages are still 98 % prevalent here, the population of men really outweighs women owing to the fact families just want males and females are either aborted or killed as babies - yet the top figure heads in the state are women-another disturbing fact. As you have probably gathered from my blog a lot of contradictions are evident within Indian and as the population is ever increasing and the people are stubborn it is hard to change these problems, so as volunteers we can really just help improve them for a short time and education is definitely the way to do this. 0.6% of the governments money is spend on education per year with a ridiculous 18% going to military expenses, yet another huge contradiction. I decided today that primary education was what I wanted to do for my project, I feel as the kids will be so young there is still lots of time to educate them in certain ways. Teaching them English will empower them and being literate will give them more confidence. I also want them to have lots of fun when I am teaching them as this is something they don’t tend to have on a daily basis unlike children at home. My placement seem to be quite short so I am going to create extra curricular activities for after school hours such as sports and maybe sex education for the older girls, I still have a lot to think about here.

We then went sightseeing to the Pink City which was crazy busy with market stalls and street food everywhere even amongst the completely un-sanitised areas. The Albert museum was good, learnt a lot about the Indian God's etc and the architecture of the building was beautiful. Today was a good day, learnt a lot and cant wait to start work tomorrow morning.

Sara McMurry returns to Rajasthan in India for another 8 weeks - +30 programme

Caitriona — Thu, 19 May 2011 10:28:05 +0000

My experience of volunteering in Rajasthan in 2010 made me want to return, and so towards the end of January this year I found myself once again in Jaipur, where the host organisation have their headquarters. For four nights I stayed with a delightful host family, attended orientation sessions, visited the magnificent Amber Fort perched on a hilltop overlooking the city, shopped in the bazaar and went to a Bollywood movie. Then we were off to Lalsot camp around 100 km away. Last year I was in Shiv camp, on the edge of the village of Shiv in the Thar desert, but it was damaged by rains at the end of 2010 (after a three year drought!) and so this year the host organisation were using their Lalsot camp. Lalsot is in agricultural countryside, and when we arrived the fields were yellow with mustard flowers. The camp itself is similar to Shiv - thatched huts in a sandy compound - but it is 10 km from the small town of Lalsot. I missed the proximity and friendliness of Shiv village.
Most of the camp staff had only been working with the host organisation for a few months, but I knew the camp manager who had been at Shiv last year. This time the executives (who help with preparing the teaching and translating in class) included two girls. The kitchen staff were great, and the cook produced tasty food and delicious chai with ginger. Every evening volunteers and staff played volleyball, and there were yoga classes before breakfast for those who managed to get up in time. Unlike at Shiv there was no water shortage, but there was a problem with the electricity supply, which went off for a large part of every day. This, together with the very slow dial-up internet connection, made contact with home and friends in Europe difficult!

To reach the camp we had to turn off the main road and drive on a sandy track through a snake charmer settlement - you could hardly call it a village. There were one or two small huts but the rest of the encampment consisted of tents and shelters. Three camels and several cows were tethered around the settlement. The snake charmers are a separate caste with their own language. They catch and keep cobras (they had two in our village, living in small baskets) and are reputed to be able to cure snake bite. The snakes are taken to amuse tourists in cities such as Jaipur, but their traditional and important work is in Hindu wedding ceremonies. The children didn't go to school, but an executive and two volunteers taught a group of them every afternoon. They were fairly wild and undisciplined, and the volunteers had to ask the parents to wash their children before sending them to class - the adults washed themselves at the pump beside the road, but didn't seem to bother about washing the children!
I taught in a large government school in one of the villages in the area, which catered for classes 1 to 8 (5 to 15 year olds). The staff were very welcoming, and the headmaster had asked for volunteers since there were only 6 teachers for the 8 classes, which meant they couldn't devote as much time as they would have liked to the youngest children, in classes 1, 2 and 3. I took class 3 with two other volunteers. There were 30 children, and we divided them between us, each group sitting in a different part of the classroom. They sat on the floor but had little desks to write on - an improvement on the school I was in last year, where the children had to write on the floor. The children were very affectionate and loved having us there, but it often got rather noisy with 30 of them all in the same room! The language of the region is Rajasthani, so children start learning Hindi as well as English as soon as they start school.

In the afternoon five of us taught pupils from classes 4, 5 and 6 at another school. This was a big contrast to the morning school - the teachers were not interested in what we were doing, and discipline was bad. We improved things a little by splitting the children into small groups, but were unable to teach much English. Most of the time the children preferred playing games or drawing, though one day I brought in a little first reader book with nice illustrations and a simple story which my group loved, and when we had read the story they wrote the whole thing out word-for-word, and copied some of the pictures as well!
These schools are in agricultural villages where many of the families are very poor. But at least in this area the land is irrigated and there was fodder for cattle and crops of wheat, mustard and cumin. By the time I left the mustard was being harvested by hand, by men and women using sickles. Most of the houses were single storey, with a big courtyard where much of family life went on. Some had cow pats drying on the roof for use as fuel. Most had at least one cow tethered outside, and one had two water buffalo and some goats as well. There were always people at the village pump, fetching water in bright metal pots on their heads, giving their cattle a drink, or washing. We had several house visits in the village where I taught in the afternoons. The people were very hospitable, and we would be seated in the courtyard on wooden framed beds and offered chai (tea boiled up in milk with spices and sugar) while a crowd of local children came to watch.

Sometimes we would be honoured with a dab of crimson on the forehead and a few grains of rice pressed on to it - a Hindu mark of greeting and respect. One old couple, whose grandson we taught, invited us in. They were very poor, according to our executive. They only had one cow, and their five sons had all gone away to the city to try to find work. One of the boys I taught asked us every day to visit his house, so one day we went home with him, and although we were unexpected visitors the whole family dropped what they were doing to come and sit with us, give us chai, and talk. None of these villagers spoke English, but our executive acted as translator.

One weekend the host organisation organised an outing to the city of Pushkar, from where we had a camel safari. We found our camels just outside the town, and set off on a three hour ride to our overnight camping place. The area is well irrigated now, so that we rode through farmland, past little houses and farms. But eventually the country became sandier and more desert-like, and we rode along a sandy track between barren hills. As the sun began to set we saw two rows of tents set up on a flat area between high sand dunes. We ate a delicious supper provided by the camp cook at a long table between the rows of tents, and then sat round a camp fire while the cook and camp workers baked balls of chapatti dough in the embers and the stars shone bright and clear above us. The next morning we had a 15 minute walk along a sandy track from the camp to a road where out coach picked us up and drove us into Pushkar.
Pushkar is a holy city and place of pilgrimage centred on the temple of Brahma - said to be the only temple dedicated primarily to Brahma (the creator of the world) in India. There was a big lake where pilgrims would bathe before going to the temple, and beside it the street was lined on both sides by shops selling brightly coloured clothes, bags, shoes, brassware, street food and so on. At the end of the main street was the white temple at the top of a long flight of steps, and the four- faced image of the god in the shrine at the top. Because the city is holy no meat or fish or alcohol is allowed, and we were not allowed to take money or cameras into the temple, so we left our purses and cameras in lockers in a shop at the foot of the steps. Outside the temple, though, there were people only too willing to take money from us in exchange for allowing us to throw flowers into the lake as pujas (prayers), or for covering our hands with the traditional Rajasthani patterns made with henna.
On another weekend two of us visited Udaipur where one of the executives I got to know last year lives. It is a beautiful city set on the edge of a lake surrounded by the Aravali hills, with a magnificent palace complex, part of which has been turned into a museum. My friend made sure we saw all the tourist sites, and we were entertained to lunch and dinner the first day in his home. Lunch on the second day was a new experience - we went to a thali restaurant. Here we each had a large tray set in front of us with seven little bowls on it. Waiters came round and filled each bowl with something different - dahl, different vegetable curries, yogurt - and placed spoonfuls of rice and several different kinds of bread on the tray. We were provided with a cup of buttermilk to drink, and the waiters came round to refill our bowls or give us more rice or bread. The whole delicious meal for three of us cost 300 rupees - less than 6 euro!

Other weekend visits were to a regional park and bird sanctuary at Bharatpur, and to Jaipur. The park at Bharatpur was visited by hundreds of species of birds, notably the painted storks, with unlikely yellow, pink and white plumage, which were nesting in trees along with spoonbills and various kinds of egret. Other unusual (for us) sights were a pair of big grey sarus cranes with bright red patches on their heads, green pigeons, grey hornbills, a crested serpent eagle, lots of jackals and big 'blue bull' antelopes. In Jaipur we visited the amazing Jantar Mantar observatory, built by a Maharajah in the 18th century to provide accurate measurements of positions of the planets as a basis for astrological predictions. Then we dropped in on the families I had stayed with last year and this year. In both homes we were offered refreshments and had a very pleasant chat.
The festival of Holi fell on the weekend that I and the rest of my group were leaving for Delhi and home. Our last day was actually the day for the religious part of the festival, with colour throwing on the next day, but the executives brought the colour throwing forward a day. We had a crazy morning putting coloured powder on one another, followed by throwing bucketfuls of water at each other, people being rolled in the resulting sandy mud, and we ended up, multicoloured and soaked to the skin, dancing in the mud! That evening they performed a farewell ceremony for us. We had a camp fire, and one of the girl executives walked round it several times carrying a bottle of water and a plate on which was red powder, rice grains, and pieces of coloured string. She tipped some water on the ground and said a prayer, and then put a red mark and rice grains on each of our foreheads, and tied string bracelets on our wrists. It was a memorable end to a fascinating and rewarding eight weeks.

Global Awareness Volunteers 2010

Piers Meynell — Fri, 19 Nov 2010 15:54:45 +0000

Volunteer Abroad

Nigeria

South Africa

Development Education

Global Awareness Programme

Travel Awards

Nigeria-South Africa Aids awareness

About EIL

Description:

The EIL Global Awareness Programme is an exciting training, volunteering and awareness programme focussing on HIV&AIDS. Each year 4 people are chosen to participate on this partially funded programme. Maeve, Emily, Gill and Paul took part to the 2010 Global Awareness Programme. As part of the programme, they received a training on “Understanding HIV in Development” as well as a training on Media and Campaigning skills. They volunteered for 8 weeks with a local project in Nigeria and South Africa working with people living with HIV&AIDS.

hiv & aids

Global Awareness Programme

EIL volunteer abroad

Nigeria

South Africa

Games!

Lena — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 10:56:57 +0000

Some of the aftercare kids from the primary school playing with games we bought for the creche. By Thomas Broderick, volunteer in South Africa 2010

Irish colours!

Lena — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 10:55:07 +0000

Jade, me and Jayden painted our faces in the Irish colours for our end of volunteering party that we had for the kids. By Thomas Broderick, , volunteer in South Africa 2010

Volunteers's trip to Cape Point

Lena — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 10:44:10 +0000

Our volunteer group at the Cape of Good Hope during our three day trip around Cape Point. By Thomas Broderick, volunteer in South Africa 2010

Play time

Lena — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 10:38:16 +0000

Kids playing with one of the games that we bought the creche, Cape Town, South Africa. By Thomas Broderick, , volunteer in South Africa 2010

Chris Divine Educare

Lena — Thu, 23 Sep 2010 10:35:43 +0000

Chris Divine Educare, Strandfontein, Cape Town. By Thomas Broderick, volunteer in South Africa 2010

My time in Nigeria (2)

Brona Higgins — Thu, 16 Sep 2010 13:29:08 +0000

Brona volunteered with EIL in Nepal (2008) and Vietnam (2009). She is now just back from Nigeria where she volunteered for 2 months and she shares with us her experience.

Different perspectives

I once attended a meeting at work, which was also attended by some local politicians and dignitaries. The topic - Impeachment – is a topical and serious issue in Africa. Acts of Impeachment, in Nigeria, have occurred in their hundreds since the inception of the country’s current constitution in the 70s. Such discussions were regularly conducted by the ‘Good Governance and Democracy’ Department in my organization – JDPC (Justice Development and Peace Commission) in a constructive attempt to make politics more accessible and transparent and to give ordinary citizens the opportunity to question their political representatives in person in an informal setting.

Such informative discussions were also conducted by the Media Department at JDPC on a weekly slot at the local radio station, which had listeners calling, and texting their contributions to the debates in their droves. This was, for me, a tangible testament as to extent to which Nigerians do care about the current political climate regardless of the fact that this concern may seldom come to fruition as they are disappointed by their corrupt politicians again and again.

The most interesting and awe-inspiring place we visited was Northern Nigeria. Myself and two other volunteers decided to head north in search of adventure and a taste of the culturally-distictive Islamic North. We were not disappointed. We traveled to Kano, Kaduna and Zaria where we witnessed the truly spectacular Friday prayer at the central Mosque in Kano (one of the other volunteers even got to partake in the ceremony). In Kaduna we watched, and took part in an ethnic Hausa drama and music performance and in Zaria we were escorted on a guided tour of the Emir’s Palace. We feasted on Kilishi and meat pies, clothed ourselves in headscarves, traveled by motorbike, visited camels and die pits, indulged in mountain top city vistas and even spent a night sleeping on a bus that was held up at a dusty road side bus park courtesy of ‘armed bandits’ further ahead on the road. It simply was unforgettable.

Finally, I also visited Lagos, which was a completely different experience. This is where I sampled the opposite end of the spectrum of Nigerian life – the ‘super rich’. Here my host brother treated me and some other volunteers to a private beach party on a private island in our own private beach house complete with private pool. It was definitely the most extravagant party I’ve ever attended or am likely to attend anytime soon. But it was incredible, for one day at least. It was definitely enlightening to experience that other extreme facet of the Nigerian ‘lifestyle’.

Experiences like my Lagos extravaganza do, however, contribute to a certain cynicism of development work in a country like Nigeria where developments appear stagnant if not backwards. I came here to work to improve the state of the human rights system here but daily I either witnessed human rights deficiencies or I heard about them from others and my reaction began to imitate that of the locals – shake my head in disappointment but ultimately remind myself that ‘this is Nigeria – this is how it’s done here’ which I never thought I would ever hear myself say. It’s not a sentiment of apathy in the slightest but rather a resignation that, at least for the foreseeable future, this is how the situation is and is likely to remain. For instance, many wealthier Nigerian families benefit from a practice which many of us here in Ireland would classify as a form of child labour. I was informed at work how this system of child labour operates. The parents inform an agent of the availability of their child for domestic labour, the agent supplies the child to various households and the parents receive a monthly sum for the duration of the child’s occupation. This occupation could begin as early as 6/7 and last until the girl is 20. Often, these girls may have been treated poorly in their own respective homes and may hail from appalling environments so some argue that their fate in their new homes is far and above anything they could ever aspire to otherwise. But I’m a firm believer in the necessity of parental nurturing without which the development of these girls is stunted. But perhaps I’m just fortunate enough never to have been in such a position and as such I don’t have and authority to judge. But it is the unfortunate consensus that there is nothing wrong with this practice, which can leave you exasperated.

"Every Little helps"

Furthermore my organization – JDPC - employs a department devoted to assisting prisoners. It was this Department that I was intended to work with. It provided counseling, advice, provisions and spiritual services for the prisoners of Agodi prison, Ibadan, some of whom have been held in custody for over 10 years before their case was even brought to trial!!!

However on my first visit to the prison I was informed that I would not be permitted to enter the prison without clearing from a higher authority in Abuja. This, I was further informed, was unlikely. The crux of the matter apparently was that I was white and as such, likely to be and informant or spy for a human rights agency such as Amnesty. This, understandably, would have spelled unwanted interference and so I was obliged to step away from the plight of the prisoners and turn my hand to other issues JDPC dealt with. However, I was later presented with the opportunity to assist the prisoners from another angle: through the legal team. I worked with the legal team as they researched their case work and accompanied them to the courts as they defended these prisoners and ensured that some received the justice they were previously denied for many years. This was a hugely rewarding task.

So, like anything else it must be remembered that while you cannot alleviate all the problems of the world, you can always do something towards assisting individual cases. It can be something as simple a giving a forgotten child your love and attention everyday or contributing financially to their own personal advancement in the future perhaps. So too for the prisoners.
It is these baby steps which are so fundamental here and it’s the Tesco consensus of ‘every little helps’ which prevails whether you can visibly witness any results or not.

But let me just say that accompanying these negatives are an bountiful supply of positive aspects; The interminable warmth and friendliness of the people, the readiness of goods (once you get used to the lack of ‘shops’) the openness of people towards the 'foreigner' despite what their history has endured and the absolute ease of accessibility here. I think it is this, which makes it so difficult for an outsider to comprehend Nigeria in the early stages of their visit. This incidence of corruption (which is essentially highly individualistic in nature) is often is executed by the same people who exhibit much of the region’s great aspects – its warmth, friendliness, welcoming hospitality (which exhibit Nigeria’s characteristic emphasis on all things communal). It’s a difficult concept to grasp: here is a land where the meek and gentle flounder. One needs to be tough, foolhardy and determined should they harbor any hopes whatsoever of success. But as it’s an extremely Religious (either Christian or Muslim) -orientated culture, the whole ‘love your neighbour’ attitude and common courtesy to all still prevails here hand in hand with its abruptness. For example I frequently hear my fellow colleagues roaring at each other and barking immediately following morning prayers and hymns. In the beginning I thought they were fighting but I soon learned this is just their means of communicating in a debate – (every debate or discussion here is heated but not necessarily aggressive.)

Religion

And so, in any description of Nigeria, the author must NOT omit a mention of Religion here. Otherwise they have failed to describe an aspect of Nigeria so fundamental to its composition that it would be a different nation without it. Ok, this is complicated. Religion here is a commodity – a badge of identity worn loudly and proudly by every Nigerian– you are either Christian or Muslim and nothing exists in between. (Traditional Yoruba God worship – Voodoo etc still exists in smaller factions but hand in hand with Christianity). Every second 'building' here is a prayer house, a church or a mosque and the name of most businesses have religious connotations - God's Will Hairdressers, Holy Spirit Stores even huge billboards promoting one church or another - selling religion - you get the idea.

Church services can last anywhere between two and four hours and are always highly charged, highly entertaining and flamboyant affairs.

At various points throughout the service, the congregation partake in numerous ‘money-giving’ marches - maybe up to 10 in the one service alone where some family or other marches along the pews for various reasons – birthdays, thanksgivings, anniversaries – collecting huge amounts of money from their fellow worshipers. This money is then handed over to ‘the church’ – the pastors here are extremely wealthy men – akin to mafia bosses in their attire! So you can imagine what goes on. It seems even religion here is also pervious to the tentacles of Nigerian corruption.

In Ibadan Muslims and Christians live peacefully side-by-side. In the west Christianity prevails while in the north Islam prevails but not in a conflicting manner. Both areas are safe for travelers of either region – the only area that is out of bounds to us is the Niger Delta region where white oil workers are regularly abducted for ransom purposes. Having said that none have ever been killed or mal treated and most times the abduction will only last a day or two.

My volunteer work

As for work, I’m thoroughly enjoyed it - not really a huge amount of tangible work for me to do but I learned a vast amount – politically, socially and legally. Although I didn’t get to pursue the work that was originally intended for me, I was giving the opportunity to work with all the other Departments as a result I gained more wide-ranging experience. I worked with the Rural Development Department, the Legal Department, the Good Governance Dept and the Media Department. I traveled to rural villages to conduct workshops on sustainable crop harvesting and to schools to present short films on Christian-Islamic relations and the dangers of Illegal Immigration. I oversaw the broadcasting of the weekly discussion forum radio shows and I assisted the legal team in their research before accompanying them to the courts to witness Nigerian justice in action. I was there when rural dwellers established their own units of local governance in a display of self-development and I visited a bore hole and water tower that was recently erected in one village thanks to support from JDPC. It really was a truly uplifting experience working with such a worthwhile organization that produced tangible and visible developments in a region where such developments are unfortunately few and far between. The other workers all doted on me and even christened me with a traditional Yoruba name - 'Omobowale Aduke’ which means 'our child has returned' and ‘the one that everyone loves’. This is undoubtedly a result of my constant, if sometimes laughable attempts at speaking in Yoruba with them and trying my hand at learning and singing Yoruba songs – my ‘performing monkey’ routine. They were all so surprised and amused by it.

I absolutely loved my time in Nigeria. It was difficult and challenging but incredibly rewarding and satisfying and it has had a huge influence on me. The friends I’ve made there and the things I’ve learned will, I’m sure, remain with me my whole life. I’ve traveled to incredible places and witnessed awe-inspiring events there, sampled its culinary delights and grown to understand its diverse range of cultures. In the words of many of my Nigerian friends: ‘If you can make it in Nigeria, you can make it anywhere’ and that, I suppose, is an achievement not to be sniffed at.

This is the second part of Brona's story read the first part here.

My time in Nigeria (1)

Brona Higgins — Thu, 16 Sep 2010 12:00:54 +0000

Brona volunteered with EIL in Nepal (2008) and Vietnam (2009). She is now just back from Nigeria where she volunteered for 2 months and she shares with us her experience.

Nigeria is a vast land of profound contrasts – of both conflicting and complementary cultures, religions, and perspectives. It’s a country of enormous wealth and choking poverty, of green, vibrant and breathtaking scenery and of monotonous expanses of rusted, dilapidated, but atmospheric cityscapes. It was here that I emerged from the comfortable, safe and modern host-family’s home into a world where the unyielding warmth, friendliness and affection of the locals was to be experienced in a strange juxtaposition with police gun barrels which were often pointed in the direction of an unruly driver who was foolhardy enough to question the inevitable bribe.

So it’s extremely difficult to put into words a true, honest and objective description of this indefinable arena of culture chaos.

The whole experience almost feels like a surreal dream – one of those dreams that leave you wondering about them long after you’ve woken up as you struggle to make sense of it.

The City

My first day there was like as slap in the face to be honest – to begin with; ‘normal’ eurocentric rules of ‘urban life’ do not apply here. In fact the city is non-existent as far as our understanding of cities go. What I mean by that is that there are no ‘city centers’ CBDs, shopping centers, information centers, amenities, any ‘shops’ at all, parks, regulated transport systems or any form of organized infrastructure are evident. What is evident, however, is an expanse of red rusty rooftops, which shield the one-story dwellings of the city’s 2.5 million inhabitants. These inhabitants are, for the most part, sustained in street-economics: buying and selling tit bits, driving taxis or ‘okada’ (motorbike taxis – which were a big hit with me), selling foodstuffs in the markets or ready-to-go/chop food on the street. Such items include fruit-apples oranges, bananas, coconuts etc, meat pies, doughnuts, buns and a deep-fried concoction of pureed beans known locally as muin muin. It is for this reason that Ibadan has been described by some travel writers as being a series of conglomerated villages rather than a city as such.

No official maps exist of this city nor have any bus routes emerged. Rather, the skill of finding your way around town is developed by means of honed intuition as to your whereabouts in relation to which direction you want to go and then grabbing a shared taxi (of which 2 passengers are crammed into the front passenger seat to allow for a total of 5 passengers) or an equally tight ‘bush taxi’ which is, in effect, a beat up minibus. But this is made all the easier by the people here who are ever delighted to help. You merely think your destination and momentarily you will have 20 new best friends vying for the opportunity to help an ‘oyinbo’ (white person).

Let me explain the ‘Oyinbo’. Oyinbo is the term of greeting used by any and EVERY Nigerian towards a white person as that is precisely it’s translation: white person. There are virtually NO tourists here so when they meet us on those few occasions it’s undoubtedly a high octane surprise. The term ‘Oyinbo’ is more akin to an “oh my god” you’d hear as a statement of surprise. It doesn’t emanate animosity but rather is meant as a “welcome”, which indeed is the next greeting that usually follows. Everyone wants to shake our hands and engage us in conversation and everyone is infectiously welcoming. It is this open-hearted attitude towards us that makes me feel so remorseful about the fate that befalls Nigerians once they set foot on ours, or any western, soil for that matter. In Ireland the term ‘black man’ does not have the same friendly and welcoming connotations as ‘oyinbo’. They are used in complete contrast to each other in fact and that’s sad.

The countryside

The countryside is inevitably more navigable and pleasant. Ten minutes drive outside the city limits will have you careering through lush jungle countryside, passing villagers on the road who have emerged from the depths of the jungle from god knows where in an often vain attempt to sell their wares to passing vehicles. Their ‘wares’ consist of packaged ‘sausage rolls’, soft drinks and corn on the cob. Going to the countryside is both literally and metaphorically a breath of fresh air. I visited some rural villages on various field trips with the Rural Development Department at work on which we provided workshops on sustainable development of agriculture, good governance and democracy and self-empowerment. The welcome and hospitality displayed by the villagers was no different to the welcome I received elsewhere – exceptional!

Other places I’ve visited were Oshogbo – where another volunteer was stationed, Ileshe – a spectacularly beautiful area where we bathed in luscious waterfalls and slogged our backsides off (well me at least!) rock climbing in search of other hidden waterfalls. We also visited another ‘city’ - Ife- a culturally important town to the north of Ibadan where we visited the ‘Oba’s” palace. The Oba of any region is its King. Kings operate side-by-side with the ‘democratically-elected’ politicians and are a remnant of the traditional Yoruba culture. In many instances the Kings and chiefs of any given region yield more power, influence and are more revered than the politicians who are seen as not much more than power-and-money-hungry fraudsters by the very people who elected them.

For instance, while visiting an Irish volunteer in another part of the country, we were invited to a member of the local authority’s daughter’s TENTH BIRTHDAY. It was an extremely lavish and flamboyant affair, which began on Saturday morning and undoubtedly continued into the wee hours. Food, drinks, music and guests abound. I was subsequently informed that the same person has been having problems paying his staff’s salaries. Not difficult to see why, when they secrete such amounts of money for their own personal expenditure. Such appears to be the general characterization of many of the countries politicians. I often listened to my co-workers lament the state of the country’s governance albeit with an undeniable air of hope for the future....

This is the first part of Brona's story, if you wnat to read the second part click here.

Last Day of Summer Camp in Min Hang Kindergarten, Shanghai

Daniel Farrell — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 16:14:28 +0000

Brown Bread for Irish Day in Min Hang Kindergarten, Shanghai

Daniel Farrell — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 16:11:55 +0000

Brown bread with strawberry jam and some milk for Irish Day!

Making Irish Flags for Irish Day in Min Hang Kindergarten, Shanghai

Daniel Farrell — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 16:08:08 +0000

Irish Day in Min Hang Kindergarten, Shanghai

Daniel Farrell — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 16:05:59 +0000

Music Lesson in Min Hang Kindergarten, Shanghai

Daniel Farrell — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 16:04:30 +0000

Irish Day in Min Hang Kindergarten, Shanghai

Daniel Farrell — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 16:03:01 +0000

Making Irish Flags...sort of!

Daniel Farrell — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 16:01:31 +0000

This is what happens when you make Irish and Norwegian flags at the same table!

Irish Flags

Daniel Farrell — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 15:56:54 +0000