home is where my house is

Back in Kongoussi and already feeling a million times better.
Well, million is a lot...but it's nice to realize how "home" my home here is after all.

Sitting in the Transit House in Ouaga I eventually begin to feel restless, stuck, nauseous, depressed. It's a frat house/hippie co-op (sorry Evan). Frat houses and hippie co-ops aren't necessarily bad. I could see myself perfectly happy living in a co-op, hippie or otherwise...lots of rooms, lots of people, hanging out, sharing ideas, sharing space. It's fun, but it's not what I want to be doing here.

Back in Kongoussi, I can put my questions and anxieties into context.
Perhaps it can be argued that my living situation does not meet all of the site selection criteria. I thought I'd have to re-adjust to being here, that In-Service Training had pushed me back a couple of steps in terms of feeling at home in my unique non-village, non-town site...but if anything I feel more comfortable at this moment. Nothing has changed about the way I want to live here and the amount of effort I want to put in, because that motivation is a big part of who I am, and who I am is a big part of why I am going to be successful. Perhaps my primary job here does not do much to further the specific goals of the Girls Education and Empowerment program, but maybe being here will change what those specific goals are...

Not every girl here is the "poorest of the poor," thank you Peace Corps, but that doesn't mean that they don't need someone to listen to them, to help them cultivate their life skills, set goals, make decisions, see themselves as important. They're in a good position, they already have a lot more opportunity than other girls their age here do...what are they going to do with it? How are they going to use it?

...and some girls here ARE the "poorest of the poor," neither of their parents are alive and they are here thanks to charity. Some girls here aren't students at all; they work all day every day to prepare food for everyone. What are they going to do with the money that they make? What options are available for them if they have never been to school? What are they going to give to their daughters? Of all the places in Burkina Faso to end up, here is not the worst for sure. But being empowered is about having options. It's about recognizing that life is made up of a series of decisions that can actively be made. What do they want out of their lives?

And what about the daughters in my little adopted neighbor town? They certainly don't go to school up here on the hill; they go out to the field and cut grasses and take care of their little siblings. It may not be my neighborhood so it may take a little more time, but the ladies down the hill could be my community too. It's all a matter of how much time I can put in, how many places I can go without spreading myself too thin. As long as I just let things happen, let connections organically build, spreading thin won't happen. It'll just take time.

My connections are real...they're when Adeline meets me at the gate and helps me walk my bike to my house and tells me that she is so glad to see me again, when Jeanette brings me her cahier and confesses that she didn't do well this past trimester, when Suzanne comes to my door on her own just to say hi before returning to finish washing her clothes.

They are every camper I have ever had. I am lucky in that I don't have to work on being convinced that it's the little things that matter. It's the bedtime stories and the roses and thorns. It's letting the little ones lead a song. It's being comfortable so that they can be comfortable, giving them space to be themselves, listening when they talk. Here, the parameters are different but the idea is exactly the same.

I don't think two years is enough time to be here. I buy in big time to the Peace Corps philosophy of working from the inside out, spending time becoming a part of your community before expecting any change to happen. Little things build upon themselves, and even just now, within the first three and a half months of living here I'm noticing some little things...girls opening up to me, little by little. This is not something that I want to exploit, you know? Ok good they're getting comfortable with me now I can give them all of this information raaaaah! No no no. I really want it to just happen, for me to take my steps in time, find a place where I fit in and let things flow. Before anything the school year is going to be over, and then a summer away and then a new school year begins. And then what? We'll see.

I hope I can create the sparks that set good things in motion...right now I'm working on preparing for all of that. What are my ideas? Write them down. Type them up. Show them to the Sisters and see what they say. How do I make sure I have counterparts on my side, working with me? What information am I missing? When does the APE meet? What about the teachers? A lot of this information I need to seek out, it isn't all out in the open. And I need to improve my French. (...though when I said this to Sister Elisabeth today she wanted to know why. "You think your French is bad?" "I speak only in the present tense!" "So do we!") (I chuck future and past in there as well, but if I wanted to tell you that I had been eating my sandwich when I remembered that it would be ages before I got sick of Vache Qui Rit cheese, I would be outta luck.) (And object pronouns. There are those.)

I'm already tucking the idea of a third year into the back of my mind. If I am successful in letting things build, if I'm on a roll and the two year mark rolls around, what else can I do? I like living in this country, Kongoussi is truly great. Slowly but surely my relationships with people are becoming more real. The distance between here and town is a challenge, but there will always be challenges no matter what. This is obviously not for sure at this point...it's just a thought. My heart has always been a little bit African.