School days, school days...

...well, kind of. Yes, as some of you may have heard through the grapevine (aka my parents), I started school. This is kind of a long saga, so be prepared!

The word on the street was that school started October 12. I knew that school couldn't actually start then because no one had been there at all during the week leading up to it. Except for me. I poked my head in everyday and walked around the deserted grounds of the college/lycee (that's like middle school and high school, a total of 6 years which is changing to 7 soon). But just in case, on the 12th I got up early and took a shower ("shower" means bucket bath of course), put on my most professional looking Mauritanian clothes (which happen to be bright orange with a crazy pattern...I love this country) and headed off to school. Just like any new teacher in the US, I had to take off my shoes to walk through a few huge puddles on the way. I got there and, sure enough, the gate was open. I walked in, greeted a few people outside, and went to the director's office. He was sitting at his desk with 8 or 9 other men in the room, so I nervously peeked in and said good morning (the concept of "someone might be busy, I'll just wait" doesn't exist here). He looked up and stared blankly at me, so I introduced myself as the new PCV. He said, "you're Amanda's replacement?" and I said I was. He greeted me and offered me a chair, gave me the book to sign in (the teachers, administrators and students all come the same day, so there's a sign-in book to see which teachers actually came back this year), and after a few simple exchanges, ignored me.

So there I was, sitting awkwardly in the office, totally unsure of whether something was going on that day that I should be there for or not. I've never felt so obvious and yet so invisible before--obvious because I was the only woman and the only white person within...well, however many miles away Shelby was at the time, and invisible because in the nearly 2 hours I sat there, 5 or 6 people acknowledged me. Seriously. See, many people who hold administrative positions, as well as a number of teachers here in Selibaby, are Moors, and are therefor much less likely to greet women. It didn't surprise me that no one would shake my hand (3 or 4 did out of about 30 who passed through while I was there), but I wasn't prepared for being completely ignored. Many of them wouldn't even make eye contact, and the few that did looked away quickly. And these are my colleagues. I few times I wanted to shout, "I know you see me! My skin is practically GLOWING I'm so white! Hello!!!!" but I figured I should tone down the crazy on my first day. It's hard because on one hand, it's cultural and I'm in no position to judge. But on the other, people I work with and the parents of my future students won't acknowledge me. Deep breaths. I just have to get used to it because, as my sister put it when I asked if there were female teachers, "there's one and you make two."

OK, enough gender ranting for now. Really, the first day wasn't all bad. The director introduced me to a few people as their new co-worker, and finally one of the other English teachers sKane, my community counterpart's husband who is going to teach Shelby and me Pulaar. He shook my hand (sweet) and chatted for a while, then got up and said, "OK, I'm going downtown" and left. Until that point, I hadn't known which of the men coming and going were teachers, so I didn't know if I should stay. Shortly after, Sy Samba (who was a language teacher during stage and teaches English at the lycee as well) came in, said hi, stayed for about 45 seconds and left. By that point, I had been there for almost 2 hours, so I stood up. The director asked if I was leaving, and I said I guess so, and he said to come by every now and then, maybe in the next few days. So that was the first day of school.

You might be thinking, "alright, so that was almost 2 weeks ago, school must have started by now!" in which case you've clearly never been to Mauritania. I spent the first week going every morning, watching students register, sitting in the director's office for 1 minute-1 hour, and leaving. Occasionally when leaving I'd ask if classes were starting soon, and he would say "tomorrow, Inshallah." So by the end of the week, I figured I needed a little more information. I went on Thursday (weekends here are Friday and Saturday) determined to find out when school would maybe start and voice my preference for what classes I'd teach. The first day, the director mentioned putting me with the younger classes, which is what I wanted anyway. So after my usual sit and be ignored time, I got up to leave. He talked to me for a minute, but turned to someone else before I could ask him anything, so I stood there awkwardly waiting. Like I said, the "when can I jump in and interrupt without being rude" question is pretty open here, and I still haven't figured it out. So after about 5 minutes, he turned to me and said "yes Emily?" so I asked if classes were starting next week, and he said they'd finish the schedule over the weekend Inshallah. So I said, "if it's possible, I'd prefer to teach the younger classes," to which he responded, "that's what I already said." So I thanked him and ran away before my showing up everyday and asking questions could annoy him more.

So that was week one. This Sunday, I was a little more prepared. See, an important life lesson in Mauritania is don't worry about things you have no control over. It's important anywhere, but vital to your mental health here. I figured since not many teachers showed up on any given morning, I couldn't be the only one who didn't know what was going on. I also realized that the kids were still signing up, so until that was mostly finished it would be impossible to make a schedule (you kind of need to know how many students you have). So I got went to school every morning this week around 9 or 9:30, sat around in the director's office, talked to anyone who would look at me (maybe one or two people a day), and left after about 20 minutes. On Monday when I got up to leave, the director asked if I was going, and I said "I think so, unless there's anything I can do here." And he cracked up. He turned to Kane, who happened to be there for his occasional 1 minute visit, and said, "Emily just asked if there was something she could do here" and then they both laughed. He said no, there was nothing, so I said I'd be back the next day. Yesterday there were a lot less students registering, and the director said my schedule would be ready Wednesday Inshallah. Kane came by again, and when the director told him schedules weren't ready, he told me he was leaving. I said, "OK, see you later," and didn't get up to leave myself. He smiled at me and laughed, giving me a look that said "I can't believe you're actually spending time sitting here." Ce la vie.

When I got there today, I figured nothing would be ready. I found the director in a different office with the Director D'etudes (he does most of the organizational work), and believe it or not they gave me my schedule! I was shocked.

So for those of you with enough sense to skim through my babbling, here's the real news. I have a great schedule--I teach 4 classes of first year (that is, first year of middle school, when they start English) for a total of 8 hours, Tuesday and Thursday 8-12. That means from noon on Thursday to 8 on Tuesday I have nothing. It makes no sense to start classes tomorrow, so they're starting on Sunday. So maybe by the next time I post, I'll have actually started working. Maybe. Inshallah...

Thanks for all the comments, and I hope this post makes everyone feel like their place of employment is super organized!