Camp AGBASSA

So it was totally happening, and then it probably wouldn’t happen, and then it definitely wasn’t going to happen. After that, it was maybe going to happen, and then it happened... Camp AGBASSA was a slow, painful planning process, amounting to a quick, fun three days and nights.

When funding for the girls’ camp fell through, I admitted my fault to the camp planning committee (really just me and Marie-Elise, and then later her visiting French friend, Monique). I asked to try again later in the year when we were more prepared and eligible for Peace Corps aid, but the Beninese optimism that “it will happen” and “someone will help us,” (that’s another blog post for another time) was somehow irresistible to us all. So there we were, 24 hours before the camp, with 30 middle-school-aged girls invited, and not a dollar to our cause…

Normally, Peace Corps gives a community camp 4 years to become financially independent, weaning them from an initial 75% aid, to moral support. Alas, a fully community funded, first-edition, five day overnight camp was slightly stupid and atrociously ambitious.  But Marie-Elise is a go-getter, and I’ve perfected my go-with-the-flow attitude here, and so we managed to scrape by for three days & nights on donations of mosquito nets and sleeping mats, sacs of corn or rice or onions, and again, the French friend. Only 18 of the girls showed up, but so did only half the number of desired counselors, so it did somehow all work out. Eventually, though often after-the-fact, the donations and acknowledgements of the solicited community participants did finally roll in; we received 20 sleeping mats after one night had already passed and a sac of rice and several monetary donations on the last day of camp – better late than never.

It was all so Beninese: nothing ran as scheduled and no one came on time; nothing was practiced or prepared ahead of time; the most money was spent on a decorative banner and certificates of completion; adults didn’t freak out when kids were “unsupervised” or got sick, and kids entertained themselves and didn’t want to go home. Many sessions were replicas of the Beninese education system – a series of lectures in which kids don’t ask and aren’t asked questions, rather they repeat or write on the board whatever the teacher said. But I did my best to make it less like school and create a safe space to talk about all the things a young girl needs some guidance on, from goals and obstacles to relationships and health, and hopefully the girls did leave with something they didn’t have before (besides a misprinted T-shirt with some Caucasian newlyweds’ faces on the front, one of Monique’s contributions – we took what we could get).

And even though it really was a po-dunk version of a camp (nowhere near my days at Sherman Lake, or St. Mary’s, or Walden – or maybe not even Mrs. Wolf’s preschool art camp…) it was an opportunity that some girls wouldn’t have had: to take a break and do some reflection and hopefully gain some knowledge and confidence. The name of the camp, AGBASSA, means “within me” (though that’s a twice removed translation, Wemε à French à English, so the sense isn’t quite the same), and on the last day we marched around village, telling the community about what we accomplished this week, and singing about what’s great about being a young girl.

This is the first project I’ve completed in village that feels like a success, like I’ve participated in something lasting and worthwhile. I was so proud of my campers at the end of three days, at how much they seemed to learn and grow and become proud of themselves. But I was even more proud of Marie-Elise and the women’s group that supported the camp. The best part is that I actually did so very little, and I know the camp could (and hopefully will) continue long into the future, without my presence. I’m already looking forward to AGBASSA 2014!

Dormitories for 6em (7th grade) and 5em (8th grade) girls

From misprinted wedding t-shirts, to reprinted camp t-shirts...

 

The women who made the camp possible!

One of the songs the girls sang while marching through the village: "We're going to the ends of the Earth. Camp AGBASSA will never perish!" They also sang about keeping a joyful heart (the meaning of AGBASSA), and maintaining their rights to be safe, innocent, young girls. My favorite part was the chanting: "Young girls - fight! fight! fight! Without women: no nation, no development. Women - they exist too!"