Natl Bk Wk
It’s God country. Yesterday a man stopped me as I was passing on the street and said, “Good morning, madam.”
“Good morning,” I said, having no idea who he was.
“Good morning and God bless in the name of the Lord our Father who gave us this blessed morning so that we may be grateful for what He has given us this day so that we may be grateful to be alive this blessing of life that I am so grateful to our great Lord for giving us and God bless you madam God bless us all we are so grateful for this wonderful gift he has given us today to be alive to serve him it is such a blessing from our glorious God Almighty Lord and let us now go forth and serve his name and celebrate the name of Jesus our Almighty Father madam I am so grateful to be alive…”
“Okay, see you,” I said, walking away.
Natl bk wk. The perils of SMSing someone who isn’t used to your abbreviations:
Me: natl bk wk opening 2day at library im givn talk on vct u shud come if ur in town.
Neetha: National black week? I think I must have missed something.
Yesterday was opening day of National Book Week, September 25-29. Why is opening day on the second day of the week? I don’t know. It’s Kenya. The director of my VCT was invited to give a talk on HIV/AIDS and VCTs. Since he is both busy and important, they sent me instead. I’m neither busy nor important, just a curious sideshow. Perfect for attracting attendees to an event that didn’t draw many attendees.
This event was a perfect specimen of “organized” events in Kenya. Because.
1. It started five hours late.
2. None of the guest speakers showed up.
3. The actual “guest of honor” was basically yanked off the street to replace the original guest of honor who didn’t show up. To his credit, he was a good speaker.
4. They expected hundreds of attendees and only 50 showed up.
5. Of these, most of them were school kids looking for an excuse to miss class.
I should have expected that a “library” in Kenya only vaguely resembles a library in the U.S., both in physical structure and in its relationship to the community. The District Librarian, who runs the library and who was running the event, said that when he goes to schools and other groups to tell them about the library, most people think it’s a place where you go to buy books.
One first grade class attending the event yesterday gave a stunning performance that illustrated why this might be the case. On cue, they all recited:
“A. Library. Is. A. Place. Where. Books. Are. Kept.”
So is a bookstore. So is a closet. So is under the bed.
The current library is two “temporary” buildings, one for childrens books and one for adult books, each only half full of books. Their collection is pretty dismal, although I will say they have a beautiful hardcover copy of the Quran, in Arabic with English translation. Like a lot of community-based projects, it seems like they’ve adopted a “we’ll take whatever we can get” policy. They have a set of reference books from 1952, a reference for what, I don’t know. The spine just says REFERENCE. Next to it is a set of Encyclopedia Britannica from who knows when. All the books in the adult section are obscure, dry texts on obscure, dry topics that no one in the community – I promise – would ever use. They have a few novels – including gag-meister Lisa Beamer’s book “Let’s Roll,” about September 11 – donated by a former Peace Corps volunteer, and a relatively decent children’s book collection.
One of the library’s main audiences is students who come to do research before their exams. I don’t understand what relevant information they might find at the library, unless it’s some random textbook lodged between the dusty volumes of irrelevant information.
I tried to feel out the library staff to see what kind of vision they had for the place. They want to expand their book collection. They want to have robust resources on HIV/AIDS, magazines, leisure reading materials (fiction novels), and childrens’ books. They want to have a computer lab. Most of all, they want to build a “real” building, even though their current buildings are more than enough room to house their current books. The staff has a lot of great ideas that need a lot of careful prioritizing.
National libraries in Kenya like this one are government funded. They get grants each year to purchase books, and have a partnership with an NGO that distributes donated books to developing countries, so every three months or so they get new books. I always took for granted public libraries in the U.S. They’re just there. They’re just well-diversified. There are just books for every number in the Dewey decimal system. Childrens’ books for every reading level. Adult books for every taste. Dizzying reference books that put me to sleep. Periodicals archived back to the dark ages. And that’s just the offline stuff.
My tiny personal book collection here in Kenya would be far more relevant and interesting and useful to the average person in my town than the books at the library. That is a pretty unfortunate reality. But the local community is still in the early stages of understanding the importance, and the magic, of books. I talked a little about it during my speech, but everyone’s eyes just glazed over.
“I remember when I was growing up I loved to read. Books bring the outside world right to you, worlds that you’d never be able to access just being at home or going to school. The world is such an amazing place that you wouldn’t even know about without books…”
Glaze, glaze, glaze. One kid’s head bobbed to the side and his eyes rolled back into his head. Dead asleep.
The guest of honor stood up to make his speech: “I’m going to tell you a story about a pauper who went begging for money. He begged and begged until finally a pastor took pity on him and gave him a Bible. Before giving the pauper the Bible, the pastor put a lot of money inside, but didn’t tell the man. The pastor told him, “Read this Bible and pray everyday for God to help you find money, and one day you will get what you ask for.” Well the pauper was lazy, and didn’t like to read, so he went home and put the Bible on his shelf. “I ask a man for money and all he gives me is a stupid Bible,” he thought. A year later the pastor sees the pauper again, and the pauper is still dressed in rags. The pastor asks, “What happened? Did you read the Bible like I told you?” The pauper says, “No, I don’t like to read. I needed money and you just gave me a stupid Bible. What good are you?” And the pastor knew that the pauper was a fool, and would always be poor. The moral of the story: If you want to hide something from a fool, put it in a book. If you don’t want to be a foolish person, learn to read.”
Laughter and applause.
Ah, nothing like scaring kids into wanting to read. Well, the truth hurts. Might as well use it to get people to do what you want them to do.
“Good morning,” I said, having no idea who he was.
“Good morning and God bless in the name of the Lord our Father who gave us this blessed morning so that we may be grateful for what He has given us this day so that we may be grateful to be alive this blessing of life that I am so grateful to our great Lord for giving us and God bless you madam God bless us all we are so grateful for this wonderful gift he has given us today to be alive to serve him it is such a blessing from our glorious God Almighty Lord and let us now go forth and serve his name and celebrate the name of Jesus our Almighty Father madam I am so grateful to be alive…”
“Okay, see you,” I said, walking away.
Natl bk wk. The perils of SMSing someone who isn’t used to your abbreviations:
Me: natl bk wk opening 2day at library im givn talk on vct u shud come if ur in town.
Neetha: National black week? I think I must have missed something.
Yesterday was opening day of National Book Week, September 25-29. Why is opening day on the second day of the week? I don’t know. It’s Kenya. The director of my VCT was invited to give a talk on HIV/AIDS and VCTs. Since he is both busy and important, they sent me instead. I’m neither busy nor important, just a curious sideshow. Perfect for attracting attendees to an event that didn’t draw many attendees.
This event was a perfect specimen of “organized” events in Kenya. Because.
1. It started five hours late.
2. None of the guest speakers showed up.
3. The actual “guest of honor” was basically yanked off the street to replace the original guest of honor who didn’t show up. To his credit, he was a good speaker.
4. They expected hundreds of attendees and only 50 showed up.
5. Of these, most of them were school kids looking for an excuse to miss class.
I should have expected that a “library” in Kenya only vaguely resembles a library in the U.S., both in physical structure and in its relationship to the community. The District Librarian, who runs the library and who was running the event, said that when he goes to schools and other groups to tell them about the library, most people think it’s a place where you go to buy books.
One first grade class attending the event yesterday gave a stunning performance that illustrated why this might be the case. On cue, they all recited:
“A. Library. Is. A. Place. Where. Books. Are. Kept.”
So is a bookstore. So is a closet. So is under the bed.
The current library is two “temporary” buildings, one for childrens books and one for adult books, each only half full of books. Their collection is pretty dismal, although I will say they have a beautiful hardcover copy of the Quran, in Arabic with English translation. Like a lot of community-based projects, it seems like they’ve adopted a “we’ll take whatever we can get” policy. They have a set of reference books from 1952, a reference for what, I don’t know. The spine just says REFERENCE. Next to it is a set of Encyclopedia Britannica from who knows when. All the books in the adult section are obscure, dry texts on obscure, dry topics that no one in the community – I promise – would ever use. They have a few novels – including gag-meister Lisa Beamer’s book “Let’s Roll,” about September 11 – donated by a former Peace Corps volunteer, and a relatively decent children’s book collection.
One of the library’s main audiences is students who come to do research before their exams. I don’t understand what relevant information they might find at the library, unless it’s some random textbook lodged between the dusty volumes of irrelevant information.
I tried to feel out the library staff to see what kind of vision they had for the place. They want to expand their book collection. They want to have robust resources on HIV/AIDS, magazines, leisure reading materials (fiction novels), and childrens’ books. They want to have a computer lab. Most of all, they want to build a “real” building, even though their current buildings are more than enough room to house their current books. The staff has a lot of great ideas that need a lot of careful prioritizing.
National libraries in Kenya like this one are government funded. They get grants each year to purchase books, and have a partnership with an NGO that distributes donated books to developing countries, so every three months or so they get new books. I always took for granted public libraries in the U.S. They’re just there. They’re just well-diversified. There are just books for every number in the Dewey decimal system. Childrens’ books for every reading level. Adult books for every taste. Dizzying reference books that put me to sleep. Periodicals archived back to the dark ages. And that’s just the offline stuff.
My tiny personal book collection here in Kenya would be far more relevant and interesting and useful to the average person in my town than the books at the library. That is a pretty unfortunate reality. But the local community is still in the early stages of understanding the importance, and the magic, of books. I talked a little about it during my speech, but everyone’s eyes just glazed over.
“I remember when I was growing up I loved to read. Books bring the outside world right to you, worlds that you’d never be able to access just being at home or going to school. The world is such an amazing place that you wouldn’t even know about without books…”
Glaze, glaze, glaze. One kid’s head bobbed to the side and his eyes rolled back into his head. Dead asleep.
The guest of honor stood up to make his speech: “I’m going to tell you a story about a pauper who went begging for money. He begged and begged until finally a pastor took pity on him and gave him a Bible. Before giving the pauper the Bible, the pastor put a lot of money inside, but didn’t tell the man. The pastor told him, “Read this Bible and pray everyday for God to help you find money, and one day you will get what you ask for.” Well the pauper was lazy, and didn’t like to read, so he went home and put the Bible on his shelf. “I ask a man for money and all he gives me is a stupid Bible,” he thought. A year later the pastor sees the pauper again, and the pauper is still dressed in rags. The pastor asks, “What happened? Did you read the Bible like I told you?” The pauper says, “No, I don’t like to read. I needed money and you just gave me a stupid Bible. What good are you?” And the pastor knew that the pauper was a fool, and would always be poor. The moral of the story: If you want to hide something from a fool, put it in a book. If you don’t want to be a foolish person, learn to read.”
Laughter and applause.
Ah, nothing like scaring kids into wanting to read. Well, the truth hurts. Might as well use it to get people to do what you want them to do.
posted by Justina at 11:06 AM
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