aokaloha

So the conclusions you are to draw from five million updates at once are:
1. I don’t have work this week so I am bored.
2. I now have computer means to write updates in Mahabo—as opposed to writing by hand then typing it up later while paying for the time.
3. I am making up for how much I have neglected you over the last year and a half. Oo, consider this a Christmas present. That’s a good one.

On a similar note, my parents gave me a nice camera (thanks, parents), which means I’m actually going to take pictures now and show them to you. I know I said I would post a bunch during my month in the States, but I’ll be honest—I was full of shit. I hadn’t really taken any myself, and I’m less prone to show you photos other people took (because secretly I think I could have done better). I mean, it’s not entirely my fault—my camera DID stop turning on. Okay, so maybe I only discovered that a couple weeks before I left for the States. Whatever. Point is, you will not see pictures! I’ve already taken one of my neighbor dressed as a pirate, so you know this is gonna be good.

Okay so on to the point of this update. This will be very factual and not at all funny. Be prepared.

As you may have realized, HIV is a big problem here. And early pregnancies are a concern as well. Perhaps more for me than for the girls. They agree with me on HIV—after all, death is death and it kind of sucks when untimely. But children and making them are valued here, so it’s hard to REALLY convince them how bad it is to let a guy pay you for sex at the age of 12. The friends of such girls call them naughty, but that’s about it. Needless to say, it doesn’t make them cry like it does it me.

I’ve done a bit of HIV/AIDS education here. My principal feels passionately about it as well, so she’s very supportive of my efforts—and always wanting me to do even more! This includes basic education and condom demonstrations for both genders (the condoms and wooden penises embarrass the girls and excite the boys, fyi). And then with the girls, I’ll do a lot of talking about values and priorities and general life goals. Essentially, it means helping them realize that they can’t reach many goals if they get knocked up or die from AIDS. It also means empowering them to HAVE dreams and to believe that they can reach them.

Another thing they’re doing here in Madagascar (and the title of this entry) is distributing Aok’aloha cards. They are thick red cards that say “aok’aloha.” Nationally, the idea is to get one to every girl before she leaves her parents’ home. In Mahabo, our goal is to get one to every girl in the middle and high school. Because, let’s be honest, the damage is often done BEFORE they leave home.

The idea of the card is that anytime anyone touches you or says or does something inappropriate or makes you feel uncomfortable—or even anytime you just have something important to say and they’re not listening to you—you bust out your red card and say, “Aok’aloha.” It’s kind of a mix of “stop” and “enough already.” Or however you want to interpret it—the red is what counts.

In any case, so the idea of the card is kind of funny to an American. I mean, can you imagine yourself at a bar, and when that drunk guy grabs you from behind you just whip out that little red card and problem solved. . . . Probably not.

But that’s just it—if your society accepts it, it can become incredibly powerful. It avoids mixed signals and tells someone enough is enough.

It works here. People have seen girls in the market, the street—even the classroom—pulling out their card on someone. They’re very serious about it, and were quite upset when I didn’t have enough after the first distribution (don’t worry—I’ve gotten more since then). I made them practice putting a condom on a wooden penis in order to get it during that first session. They were mortified (which is part of the problem—they are pressured by boys before they’re old enough to discuss these things seriously), but did it in order to get a card.

Not just that. Teachers will come to me asking for cards for their daughters (and I think for themselves, though they might not admit it).

It’s as if this little red card has some magic aura around it. If you have this card, you are protected. Sketchy men and dirty boys beware—I have a red card.

I think it’s amazing. I’ve never found it easier to feel as if I’m somehow protecting my girls—truly empowering. The thing is, with the card, it’s already understood. It needs no explanation. So when they use it, it’s the card, not them. They don’t need to do anything but pull out a card, and it will be understood that what’s happening is not okay.

And that’s pretty special. Because at 12 years old, sometimes a girl just doesn’t have the guts to stand up for herself. Here in Mahabo, a little red card will do it for her.