I will never be an economist. In fact, I am pretty sure that my brain is not- nor does it want to be- wired to process the concepts of outputs, inputs, human capital and isoquants. That’s probably why I am sitting here and simultaneously scribbling a blog entry as I take notes and listen to my very knowledgeable Burkinabé professor speak excitedly on his subject matter of choice. I really like the guy, I just really don’t like the topic he is teaching.

During Day One of this course last September, I felt as if I had lost all comprehension of the French language. The three hours of instruction were absolutely mind-boggling, and I vested all of my mental energy in taking notes that I didn’t understand yet somehow divined from the hieroglyphics on the white board. At the end of the class I kind of sat back in my chair and thought, “What the Hell was that all about?”.

So tonight marks our last class with Dr. Savadogo. As a surprise, he is doing the entire lecture in English- and he definitely has no trouble in transitioning to my native language. I’m the only bread and spread anglophone in the class, but I learn quickly that it doesn’t matter what language he speaks, my level of comprehension remains in the “below average” section of the bell curve. Hate’s a strong word, but quite often I endure these lectures and pine for the days of college-level drawing courses.

Here’s an improvised cell phone video that I took during class a few days ago (it’s in French). The room was quite lively because the subject of rice imports came up in discussion. I know the video is grainy and hard to understand…but that provides you with the same feeling I get while sitting in class, striving to understand.

So even though it’s been a challenging semester, my work is still not over. I have other economics classes that are on the horizon, as well as other Megan favorites like a statistics final exam. To my brain, all of these things feel like a duct-tape band-aid being slowly pulled away from my skin over a period of months. It’s painful, but I am going to keep plugging away at my educational “opportunities” because I set this challenge in front of myself.  I do it because I have a long-term vision that says if just put in a bit of effort, I’ll be a stronger person who is proud of herself in the long-run.

No whining. Well, maybe just a little bit.

Sighted at the Dublin Half Marathon. Reposted here for good measure.

My little brother goes back to school next week, starting on his birthday. Like my experience here, I know that he sees value in finishing school- but there are definitely a lot of other things that he’d rather be doing. I think of him often as I find myself gutting through tasks and seemingly endless lectures that are completely counter to my DNA composition. My brother is the smartest of us five kids – believe me I would kill to have his brain – but he also harbors the greatest aversion to the classroom setting.

A fine example of John doing something he loves. 

So I have some words of wisdom for my favorite brother as he embarks upon his journey through the halls of structured academia: we all subject ourselves to hours of our own personal torture. We suck it up and do so because deep down, we know that the challenge makes us better people. It’s not always about obtaining the piece of paper with your name written in fancy script that supposedly makes your smarter- more often it’s about putting yourself to the test and coming out a bit surprised at what you were able to accomplish.

“The wonder is, he hath endured so long”  – Shakespeare