A Grand Adventure: Tanti, c'est comment?

One of the biggest joys in my life these days has been my ministry at Centre Providence. The first time I came to the school, back in December, I was clueless to what anyone was saying or doing. Now, I can be and joke with the girls in a way that they understand! If you’ve ever lived in a cross-cultural context, you will understand that to be able to joke in another language, in another culture, is a HUGE step. The girls call me “tanti Stephanie”, and “c’est comment” is sort of like, “what‘s up?”

The girls at Centre Providence are coming out of various sex trafficking situations (ages 10 - 18). Some were forced into prostitution at a very young age, while others were sexually violated by neighbors or members of their own family. They come to the school to learn basic reading, writing, and math as well as positive values and morals that they may not have been taught previously. They play sports, sing, dance, and create artwork. The social workers at the school visit their families biweekly, and every day, the teachers and social workers meet to talk about the girls’ progress. After a year or two, when a girl is ready, she starts an internship with a hair dresser or tailor in her neighborhood, a job which she can do for the rest of her life. I am finally able to comprehend their language and situations, and I feel I have built a level of trust with the girls and with the other teachers. I am an integrated part of the team. Tuesday mornings, I have about an hour to lead a drawing activity with some of the girls. I have also started co-leading a painting class with another teacher at the school. But mostly, I share in life with them, whether that’s eating rice and sauce, playing handball, talking about STDs, letting them braid my hair or sleeping on a straw mat after lunch.

I think they saw me as a foreign alien at first. They even asked me questions like "are you albino?" or, "did you change your skin color like Michael Jackson?" And when they don't understand my French, they'll turn to each other and ask, "do you know what she's saying? I can't understand her." The thing is, those girls add SO MUCH to my life. One girl, Nathalie, has decided she's my daughter. At lunch one day, I stole her bowl of rice and passed it to a table behind me. For a good 5 minutes, she was searching for it, and saying "tanti, je n'aime pa ca." (tanti, I don't like that.), while I'm laughing. The other girls involved thought it was a pretty good prank. Another day, we had a conversation about how she doesn't have any friends she can really confide in. She does have a sister, however, and I had a chance to ask her about their relationship, which sounds like it's a positive one. These pictures below are what a normal Friday morning looks like. After we clean the center, we play handball and dance to the beat of the tom-tom.

Awa and Dorothee For a few Tuesdays now, I’ve led an art therapy task called a “bridge drawing”. I ask them to draw a bridge. To the left, they draw their past, whether it be a job, house, or someone they knew. The bridge is the present, their time here at Centre. After the bridge, I ask them to imagine their future - the trade they will learn at the end of their time there, a family, whatever it may be. I have noticed that a lot of these girls cannot see the future. I ask them 2, 3 times to draw it, but its nearly impossible for some of them. Some, but not all, of the girls have included their past in prostitution in their drawings. One girl told me there were only things she didn't like in her past, so I asked her if she could draw that, and she said ok. After every class, I write comments in French on the back of the drawings, based on what the girls have told me and what I see. This new class has given me an opportunity to take a leadership role, which improves my French, my trust relationship with my colleagues, and my relationship with the girls. I have started teaching a painting class with 7 girls every Tuesday afternoon, with my colleague, Madeline. These girls have never painted in their lives, but they are catching on fast and loving it. I can't explain the amount of joy I find in teaching these girls. One of them, Awa, has no fingers on her left hand, but she has a natural artistic ability. I hope she can gain a confidence in herself through this painting class. My supervisor, Jean Noel, talked about holding an art gallery for the girls’ artwork during the next fete (party) that we have! I can't wait. Below are two of the bridge drawings produced by the girls.