So I will, after all, have classes tomorrow. Planned out ones with notes and activities and such. Way to go, Miss Responsibility.
As it turns out, it makes more sense to go do Ouaga errands on Thursday rather than tomorrow. My travel partner will have just returned from an 80k round trip bike ride and might like a day to relax...and if I CAN teach my classes, I should.
Soo...I will.
These next few days are weirdly packed...PCV visits, shopping and Christmas prep, classes, Christmas cooking, Ouaga money retrieval, Christmas...making sure I don't miss any of the holiday throwdown that'll be going on.
Now I must go to the post and then brace myself for the walk home, whereupon I will have to get gallons and gallons of water because I am out.
...& then I will sleep like a baby with my new soft warm blanket. Mmm winter.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Failure is not an option
(From 15 November 2010)
I am sitting in the salle d’informatique with my mixed class of new students, having given them a free day since we had a test last week. After my first four classes this morning I’m feeling kind of lame just sitting here not guiding…the morning kids demanded a lot more attention and help. These guys (gals) (whatever) are content to practice typing or play spider solitaire and they have a combination of smarts, experience, and maturity to be able to figure things out on their own a little more than the younguns do. Also, all of the 5eme students who are normally in the class are not here today because they are calculating grates with their head teacher, so I am left with just seven students.
Tiny!
Sitting here not doing anything teacher-like makes me sort of rethink my initial plan to not have class next week. The 22nd is the last day of classes…and mayhaps one of my only chances to get to Ouaga to sort out some money stuff before going on my all-important vacation at the end of the month. Why introduce brand new stuff the final class before vacation, I asked myself. Isn’t everybody ready to just go home? I figured I just wouldn’t have class, that way kids could get ready to go home and I could go into the big town and run my errands.
Man, that looks kind of bad when written out, especially when you consider that I’m only with these kids for an hour a week each. This is something I would never get away with as a teacher in the States but it is perfectly logical thinking here in Burkina. Obviously the last class means that classes are already over by then. Duh.
But I’ve got some plans for the next trimester, ones that I’m actually going to make work instead of just thinking and talking about. I’ve decided that I want all of my students to have a passing grade in my class. This trimester, about 10 out of about 125 didn’t. This is not abnormal—if anything, it’s an abnormally low number of non-passing kids—and usually students are just expected to work harder and bring their grades up. But I’m going to have an extra class for the students who did not receive passing grades this trimester…not sure yet if I’ll make it mandatory or not. I’m also going to have extra sessions after the first devoir (test) I give to help the students who did not score well on it. I’ll also continue offering review/practice sessions before the devoirs. YOU WILL SUCCEED.
I’ve got another idea, something that I’ve tossed around my own head several times but haven’t really aggressively pursued. Sister Elisabeth has a civics course with each of the four classes, one that often turns into an hour of free time when she is off doing other things (as she is wont to do). I would like to create some discussion topics and goal-building, future-thinking, health-focusing activities to have in my back pocket so I can fill in for her some times when she’s not going to be there. If she gets on board with this idea, it could potentially work out fabulously. She’s not gonna be in class, she gives me a holler, the girls know I’m coming in to lead some stuff with them and then boom, an hour’s passed and life has become a wee bit more empowered.
That’s right. I’m a Girls Education and Empowerment volunteer. That means more than just letting sassy-mouthed Marguerite borrow my bike. Anyone out there want to hold me accountable?
(I just turned around to check on my girls…one of them has written “Bonne Année Miss Molly, I Love You!” in pretty colors in Paint.)
Well, I suppose I should wrap this up and dismiss this class for purely selfish reasons that include wanting to go into town to meet Thomas and his brother for whatever it is we’re going to have. Dinner? Drinks? Polite conversation? Whatever it is I’m looking forward to it because I have yet to meet Thomas’s lil bro and it’ll be, to use one of the most commonly used and drastically oversimplified adjectives in Burkinabè French... intéressant.
I am sitting in the salle d’informatique with my mixed class of new students, having given them a free day since we had a test last week. After my first four classes this morning I’m feeling kind of lame just sitting here not guiding…the morning kids demanded a lot more attention and help. These guys (gals) (whatever) are content to practice typing or play spider solitaire and they have a combination of smarts, experience, and maturity to be able to figure things out on their own a little more than the younguns do. Also, all of the 5eme students who are normally in the class are not here today because they are calculating grates with their head teacher, so I am left with just seven students.
Tiny!
Sitting here not doing anything teacher-like makes me sort of rethink my initial plan to not have class next week. The 22nd is the last day of classes…and mayhaps one of my only chances to get to Ouaga to sort out some money stuff before going on my all-important vacation at the end of the month. Why introduce brand new stuff the final class before vacation, I asked myself. Isn’t everybody ready to just go home? I figured I just wouldn’t have class, that way kids could get ready to go home and I could go into the big town and run my errands.
Man, that looks kind of bad when written out, especially when you consider that I’m only with these kids for an hour a week each. This is something I would never get away with as a teacher in the States but it is perfectly logical thinking here in Burkina. Obviously the last class means that classes are already over by then. Duh.
But I’ve got some plans for the next trimester, ones that I’m actually going to make work instead of just thinking and talking about. I’ve decided that I want all of my students to have a passing grade in my class. This trimester, about 10 out of about 125 didn’t. This is not abnormal—if anything, it’s an abnormally low number of non-passing kids—and usually students are just expected to work harder and bring their grades up. But I’m going to have an extra class for the students who did not receive passing grades this trimester…not sure yet if I’ll make it mandatory or not. I’m also going to have extra sessions after the first devoir (test) I give to help the students who did not score well on it. I’ll also continue offering review/practice sessions before the devoirs. YOU WILL SUCCEED.
I’ve got another idea, something that I’ve tossed around my own head several times but haven’t really aggressively pursued. Sister Elisabeth has a civics course with each of the four classes, one that often turns into an hour of free time when she is off doing other things (as she is wont to do). I would like to create some discussion topics and goal-building, future-thinking, health-focusing activities to have in my back pocket so I can fill in for her some times when she’s not going to be there. If she gets on board with this idea, it could potentially work out fabulously. She’s not gonna be in class, she gives me a holler, the girls know I’m coming in to lead some stuff with them and then boom, an hour’s passed and life has become a wee bit more empowered.
That’s right. I’m a Girls Education and Empowerment volunteer. That means more than just letting sassy-mouthed Marguerite borrow my bike. Anyone out there want to hold me accountable?
(I just turned around to check on my girls…one of them has written “Bonne Année Miss Molly, I Love You!” in pretty colors in Paint.)
Well, I suppose I should wrap this up and dismiss this class for purely selfish reasons that include wanting to go into town to meet Thomas and his brother for whatever it is we’re going to have. Dinner? Drinks? Polite conversation? Whatever it is I’m looking forward to it because I have yet to meet Thomas’s lil bro and it’ll be, to use one of the most commonly used and drastically oversimplified adjectives in Burkinabè French... intéressant.
Monday, December 13, 2010
New Information?
I am frustrated by everything.
...for the sake of an optimistic report on my life and not just a one line complaint, I will go ahead and list a few things that rarely upset me. But I will only do this if you take for a given the first statement of this entry, that I am frustrated by everything.
Some things that rarely frustrate me:
Certain kids in my quartier, such as Constantine and Edwige
...umm....
hm...
Being offered yogurt sometimes when I'm up by the nun house
ummmmm....
Ok I really can't think of anything else at the moment, I'll get back to you later.
...for the sake of an optimistic report on my life and not just a one line complaint, I will go ahead and list a few things that rarely upset me. But I will only do this if you take for a given the first statement of this entry, that I am frustrated by everything.
Some things that rarely frustrate me:
Certain kids in my quartier, such as Constantine and Edwige
...umm....
hm...
Being offered yogurt sometimes when I'm up by the nun house
ummmmm....
Ok I really can't think of anything else at the moment, I'll get back to you later.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
picture post
Today has been a productive, good day.
Here are some pictures for your viewing pleasure.
The lush green field of yestermonth is becoming bare again!
Goats frolicking on headbutting each other off of my wall.
Dishes drying in the sun.
Thanksgiving feast!
Taking on the key lime pie.
...it got the best of me.
Housecleaning day. Like the rugby batik on the wall?
Dirty, happy sandwich break on a trip to Rambo.
Centre ville Kongoussi, marché to the right.
Prisca and Rose while Rose studies. My little sisters of my village whom I love.C'est fini! Now, as per usual, I will leave the internet café to put some food in my belly. I'm thinking ragu de pomme de terre or frites and salade. With a big ol' Castle to drink.
Darling you’ve got to let me know…Should I stay or should I go?
(27th November)
The regional director of Peace Corps Africa visited my site; while we were talking about my experiences, he sincerely apologized for my service having been used as an experiment. (…Leslie and Rachel, no doubt the same sentiments apply.) A very appropriate, much appreciated apology, I think.
Because, you know, I’m tired. There are a lot of things about being an étranger for two years as you’re putting all of your energy into living, working, understanding and being a good neighbor that are exhausting. I’m doing so well at living, working, being in Lioudougou…think of how much progress I’d have made by now if I had been there from the beginning. I’ve thought many times, before moving down there and since, that this year in many ways will be a first year all over again, and that it might be worth it to stay a third so that I’ll have two in my new community, in the right place.
But this isn’t my first year, and I’m tired.
And I wouldn’t want to just do the little things I’ve been finding to do all over again next year. I’d want someone to work with to actually do things that are wanted and needed, and if I don’t find someone or something, I don’t think I’m going to want to stick around for another twelve months in the hope that I do. I think I’m ready for some professional growth, something challenging in a way that differs from the sort of hurry up and wait, cast your net wide, drop hints all over the place that you’d like to help out with things without ever actually doing anything, put up with sexual harassment challenges that so permeate life for volunteers here. I could GEE the heck out of somewhere. When I got my invitation in the mail, I would have sworn that this program was designed for me. What did I do in the five years before the Peace Corps that wasn’t Girls’ Education and Empowerment? As it turns out, I was put somewhere where, frankly, my presence wasn’t requested. I was plopped into a place where there wasn’t any community knowledge of or support of my program and told by my half of the equation (i.e., the Peace Corps, and not Kongoussi / Lioudougou), “Ok, go be a GEE volunteer now. Figure it out.”
But what is the role of the outsider in development? What is my role here? I have not ever been down with forcing my ideas on how things should work here, and why should I be? I’m a 24 year old girl, really. No more than a few months’ experience at any one time doing any sort of important work. A (very interesting and appropriate, but) highly theoretical degree (not that the degree itself is theoretical…or so I’ve been assured) from a liberal arts school doesn’t really stand on its own; what it’s done is lead me to this, my first real work slash life experience where I am forced to apply some of the thinking I’ve done. And I think that’s going to end up being a lot of what I get out of this.
If you divorce the Peace Corps from the Peace Corps, it’s pretty alright. I like my town, I like my community, I like living here. I’m figuring out things I can do to help. These days I’m conscious of the kind of citizen I am in my town, inspired by the insights of a PCV neighbor (neighbor!) of mine. Having the chance to live next door to people on the other side of the world who you would otherwise not have the chance to know is something truly amazing. But connecting back to the bureau is stressing me out recently, and I think this is due in large part to the fact that I feel like a nebulous volunteer, someone without a real program for whom none of the objectives and official bureau support has ever really applied. I’ve searched for ways to be involved and things that I could do to help my neighbors and my community, but not necessarily alongside anyone or towards any specific goals. The things that I’ve found to do that are wanted and asked for are things that I’ve had to make up as I go along. Not the way I wanted to do this, really, but you have to work with what you’ve got.
The Peace Corps is a good program for young idealists who are in-tuned enough to know that idealism isn’t enough, who want an important and fulfilling niche in the world but who don’t yet have the experience to find it. I wonder if, at the end of my two years here, I’ll have gotten all that I can get out of being a Peace Corps Volunteer in Burkina Faso. Maybe I’ll be ready to move on, to try another way of living somewhere, to put more tools in my belt.
It’s amazing how much—and how little—can happen in a span of nine months…so who knows.
I read a very good book recently, The Blue Sweater by Jacquiline Novogratz, that’s allowed me to start to articulate a lot of the feelings that I’m having about my time here, and what it means to be effective, and what I want to do with my life. She showed up for her first job in Africa pretty unprepared and learned a lot of important lessons sort of at the expense of herself…not really a bad thing in the long term, but not such a fun feeling in the present. She relates a lot of the advice and guidance she was given along her way, and a lot of it is the sort of advice and guidance I’m starting to seek. After living and working in Africa for a while, deciding what to do next and not being completely ready to leave (even though she’s exhausted by the contradictions and difficulties of pretty much every day of her life), she’s told by someone insightful and smart that being connected to your own home, your own community or culture, can help you in connecting to the wider world. …and I can see that, after over a year of living in Burkina. No matter how much effort and energy I put into living and integrating into my village here, it will never be my home. I can navigate through the culture here (exceptionally well, on a good day), but it isn’t my culture and it’s never 100 percent comfortable. And these are all things to accept if living and working in different parts of the world is what you want to do.
I feel stuck somewhere, in my brain, and I want to break through to some new degree of understanding about myself and about the world that I know is there on the other side. It’s like a heavy fog is obscuring something, and I’ve made progress towards it with books, with discussions, with living here…but nothing’s been quite enough.
The regional director of Peace Corps Africa visited my site; while we were talking about my experiences, he sincerely apologized for my service having been used as an experiment. (…Leslie and Rachel, no doubt the same sentiments apply.) A very appropriate, much appreciated apology, I think.
Because, you know, I’m tired. There are a lot of things about being an étranger for two years as you’re putting all of your energy into living, working, understanding and being a good neighbor that are exhausting. I’m doing so well at living, working, being in Lioudougou…think of how much progress I’d have made by now if I had been there from the beginning. I’ve thought many times, before moving down there and since, that this year in many ways will be a first year all over again, and that it might be worth it to stay a third so that I’ll have two in my new community, in the right place.
But this isn’t my first year, and I’m tired.
And I wouldn’t want to just do the little things I’ve been finding to do all over again next year. I’d want someone to work with to actually do things that are wanted and needed, and if I don’t find someone or something, I don’t think I’m going to want to stick around for another twelve months in the hope that I do. I think I’m ready for some professional growth, something challenging in a way that differs from the sort of hurry up and wait, cast your net wide, drop hints all over the place that you’d like to help out with things without ever actually doing anything, put up with sexual harassment challenges that so permeate life for volunteers here. I could GEE the heck out of somewhere. When I got my invitation in the mail, I would have sworn that this program was designed for me. What did I do in the five years before the Peace Corps that wasn’t Girls’ Education and Empowerment? As it turns out, I was put somewhere where, frankly, my presence wasn’t requested. I was plopped into a place where there wasn’t any community knowledge of or support of my program and told by my half of the equation (i.e., the Peace Corps, and not Kongoussi / Lioudougou), “Ok, go be a GEE volunteer now. Figure it out.”
But what is the role of the outsider in development? What is my role here? I have not ever been down with forcing my ideas on how things should work here, and why should I be? I’m a 24 year old girl, really. No more than a few months’ experience at any one time doing any sort of important work. A (very interesting and appropriate, but) highly theoretical degree (not that the degree itself is theoretical…or so I’ve been assured) from a liberal arts school doesn’t really stand on its own; what it’s done is lead me to this, my first real work slash life experience where I am forced to apply some of the thinking I’ve done. And I think that’s going to end up being a lot of what I get out of this.
If you divorce the Peace Corps from the Peace Corps, it’s pretty alright. I like my town, I like my community, I like living here. I’m figuring out things I can do to help. These days I’m conscious of the kind of citizen I am in my town, inspired by the insights of a PCV neighbor (neighbor!) of mine. Having the chance to live next door to people on the other side of the world who you would otherwise not have the chance to know is something truly amazing. But connecting back to the bureau is stressing me out recently, and I think this is due in large part to the fact that I feel like a nebulous volunteer, someone without a real program for whom none of the objectives and official bureau support has ever really applied. I’ve searched for ways to be involved and things that I could do to help my neighbors and my community, but not necessarily alongside anyone or towards any specific goals. The things that I’ve found to do that are wanted and asked for are things that I’ve had to make up as I go along. Not the way I wanted to do this, really, but you have to work with what you’ve got.
The Peace Corps is a good program for young idealists who are in-tuned enough to know that idealism isn’t enough, who want an important and fulfilling niche in the world but who don’t yet have the experience to find it. I wonder if, at the end of my two years here, I’ll have gotten all that I can get out of being a Peace Corps Volunteer in Burkina Faso. Maybe I’ll be ready to move on, to try another way of living somewhere, to put more tools in my belt.
It’s amazing how much—and how little—can happen in a span of nine months…so who knows.
I read a very good book recently, The Blue Sweater by Jacquiline Novogratz, that’s allowed me to start to articulate a lot of the feelings that I’m having about my time here, and what it means to be effective, and what I want to do with my life. She showed up for her first job in Africa pretty unprepared and learned a lot of important lessons sort of at the expense of herself…not really a bad thing in the long term, but not such a fun feeling in the present. She relates a lot of the advice and guidance she was given along her way, and a lot of it is the sort of advice and guidance I’m starting to seek. After living and working in Africa for a while, deciding what to do next and not being completely ready to leave (even though she’s exhausted by the contradictions and difficulties of pretty much every day of her life), she’s told by someone insightful and smart that being connected to your own home, your own community or culture, can help you in connecting to the wider world. …and I can see that, after over a year of living in Burkina. No matter how much effort and energy I put into living and integrating into my village here, it will never be my home. I can navigate through the culture here (exceptionally well, on a good day), but it isn’t my culture and it’s never 100 percent comfortable. And these are all things to accept if living and working in different parts of the world is what you want to do.
I feel stuck somewhere, in my brain, and I want to break through to some new degree of understanding about myself and about the world that I know is there on the other side. It’s like a heavy fog is obscuring something, and I’ve made progress towards it with books, with discussions, with living here…but nothing’s been quite enough.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
re flec tions to come
I wrote a very thougtful post to post...but left it on my USB key at home.
So, this post isn't really about anything.
I need a vacation and I'm taking one the week after Christmas. None of my fantasy locations (Belgium, Ireland, Manchester CT) are gonna work out so it looks like I'll be sitting on a beach in Togo for a week. The most necessary week ever.
After I am done with the internet I am going to get something breakfast-like in town with my lovely sitemate. Maybe an omlette. Not sure what else I'll be doing today, since my Tuesdays are not really full of solid plans. Just some interaction, I guess. Maybe I'll plan out my end of the trimester (division of school year trimester, not pregnancy trimester) test that I'm going to give my computer classes. It's going to be a hands on test, a typing related thing...something so obvious in America perhaps but pretty much unheard of here, unfaesable usually but at my school it's beyond feasable so it's happening. It does mean a lot more effort on my part, but hey...that's what I'm here for.
To put in lots of effort for everything all of the time.
Did I mention I'm taking a vacation?
So, this post isn't really about anything.
I need a vacation and I'm taking one the week after Christmas. None of my fantasy locations (Belgium, Ireland, Manchester CT) are gonna work out so it looks like I'll be sitting on a beach in Togo for a week. The most necessary week ever.
After I am done with the internet I am going to get something breakfast-like in town with my lovely sitemate. Maybe an omlette. Not sure what else I'll be doing today, since my Tuesdays are not really full of solid plans. Just some interaction, I guess. Maybe I'll plan out my end of the trimester (division of school year trimester, not pregnancy trimester) test that I'm going to give my computer classes. It's going to be a hands on test, a typing related thing...something so obvious in America perhaps but pretty much unheard of here, unfaesable usually but at my school it's beyond feasable so it's happening. It does mean a lot more effort on my part, but hey...that's what I'm here for.
To put in lots of effort for everything all of the time.
Did I mention I'm taking a vacation?
Thursday, November 18, 2010
November 17 in class
Today is the fête de Sainte Elisabeth, and since a person with pretty much that exact same name lives and works at the foyer here, a big ol’ party is going to take place. I was a little late to my evening class with all of my new students because my counterpart wanted to go over the corrections he made on my action plan with me; since this evening class of mine is a ridiculous thing unlike any other class I could possibly have in Burkina, I gave them the option of just playing around on the computers for a little while and then leaving so they could get ready for tonight. Instead of class today, we’re going to have a make-up class next Saturday. So here I am in my salle d’informatique, typing this note to you all while twelve girls play spider solitaire or hearts or type things with Bloc-Notes and Microsoft Word. The rest of them have gone to shower and such.
Today was a pretty good day. I had successful classes this morning and was tired when I got home around eleven, but not in a horribly tired kind of way. I took a relatively delicious nap and then stopped by my friend Claudia’s courtyard to visit. Her and Susan and Irène and Julianne were getting ready to go up to the foyer to say hello to Sister Elisabeth and wish her a good fête, so I hung out for a bit and then accompanied them up. I’m going to stay here for the mass at 6pm and then hang out for the party, which I remember—but not exactly—from last year. Funny how time passes.
So I just looked over to my left to discover one of my students regarding my computer screen and typing exactly what I’m typing in Bloc-Notes. Pretty cute. She moved computers a few minutes ago to sit next to me and I didn’t think anything of it, but I just noticed out of the corner of my eye that she keeps looking my way.
I’m kind of busy these days…I try to prepare really well for my classes and I’m getting a little bit more involved with the health center in my sector.
I’m also LOVING SLEEP. I love bedtime…who who knows me would have ever thought that would ever be true?
Today was a pretty good day. I had successful classes this morning and was tired when I got home around eleven, but not in a horribly tired kind of way. I took a relatively delicious nap and then stopped by my friend Claudia’s courtyard to visit. Her and Susan and Irène and Julianne were getting ready to go up to the foyer to say hello to Sister Elisabeth and wish her a good fête, so I hung out for a bit and then accompanied them up. I’m going to stay here for the mass at 6pm and then hang out for the party, which I remember—but not exactly—from last year. Funny how time passes.
So I just looked over to my left to discover one of my students regarding my computer screen and typing exactly what I’m typing in Bloc-Notes. Pretty cute. She moved computers a few minutes ago to sit next to me and I didn’t think anything of it, but I just noticed out of the corner of my eye that she keeps looking my way.
I’m kind of busy these days…I try to prepare really well for my classes and I’m getting a little bit more involved with the health center in my sector.
I’m also LOVING SLEEP. I love bedtime…who who knows me would have ever thought that would ever be true?
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Successful weekend of being in Ouagadougou
I planned for my Wednesday classes. I even printed things out for them in the bureau.
I typed up and printed out an action plan that I've been on the edge of completing for quite some time.
I went to SIAO, the largest commercial arts exposition in Africa that goes down in Ouagadougou every two years. Didn't buy any goods but had a great time wandering around looking at stuff, enjoying the fair-like environment, the people, the food.
I saw Kait and had a great time at her Holiday Throwdown slash Nasara Bye Bye party, at which I also ate an explosively delicious array of foods ranging from potato pancakes with homemade apple sauce to an I-kid-you-not real turkey and spinach salad with cranberries and almods as well as riz gras and scalloped potatos and chocolate mouse and cheesecake brownies...all of you kids worrying about what a skinny minnie you think I've become, fear not! Thousands upon thousands of calories have just been consumed. Forget Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah, Festivus, Merlinpeen, Tabaski...that there's some Real American Holiday Tradition.
(It's so nice to see my Peace Corps Volunteer friends but it's not something that happens a lot. I tend to stay in Kongoussi, it's months between contacts with most other volunteers that I know here. And now there are so many new volunteers that I don't really know and that I probably won't get to know very well because I don't come into Ouaga that often and there really isn't a whole lot of Peace Corps representation up where I am. The way it goes.)
Had a pretty good weekend and am excited to go back up to where I live for the Mossi partying that's going to be going down Monday night through 'til Wednesday. Didn't really get this in my life last year, living up in the castle as I did. Animal sacrifices, millet beer, sesame sauce, rice, chicken, dancing, fancy clothes. Can't miss that. I'm going to become an honorary member of Claudia's family (like I am) and help them out with all of their preparation instead of trying to figure out what sort of American element to add on my own. That'll come more towards Christmas, since I've been here and done that already and have a decent idea of what sort of stuff I can contribute that'll be appreciated.
Now...time for one more steak sandwich and then I'm hittin' the road STAF bus style.
I typed up and printed out an action plan that I've been on the edge of completing for quite some time.
I went to SIAO, the largest commercial arts exposition in Africa that goes down in Ouagadougou every two years. Didn't buy any goods but had a great time wandering around looking at stuff, enjoying the fair-like environment, the people, the food.
I saw Kait and had a great time at her Holiday Throwdown slash Nasara Bye Bye party, at which I also ate an explosively delicious array of foods ranging from potato pancakes with homemade apple sauce to an I-kid-you-not real turkey and spinach salad with cranberries and almods as well as riz gras and scalloped potatos and chocolate mouse and cheesecake brownies...all of you kids worrying about what a skinny minnie you think I've become, fear not! Thousands upon thousands of calories have just been consumed. Forget Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah, Festivus, Merlinpeen, Tabaski...that there's some Real American Holiday Tradition.
(It's so nice to see my Peace Corps Volunteer friends but it's not something that happens a lot. I tend to stay in Kongoussi, it's months between contacts with most other volunteers that I know here. And now there are so many new volunteers that I don't really know and that I probably won't get to know very well because I don't come into Ouaga that often and there really isn't a whole lot of Peace Corps representation up where I am. The way it goes.)
Had a pretty good weekend and am excited to go back up to where I live for the Mossi partying that's going to be going down Monday night through 'til Wednesday. Didn't really get this in my life last year, living up in the castle as I did. Animal sacrifices, millet beer, sesame sauce, rice, chicken, dancing, fancy clothes. Can't miss that. I'm going to become an honorary member of Claudia's family (like I am) and help them out with all of their preparation instead of trying to figure out what sort of American element to add on my own. That'll come more towards Christmas, since I've been here and done that already and have a decent idea of what sort of stuff I can contribute that'll be appreciated.
Now...time for one more steak sandwich and then I'm hittin' the road STAF bus style.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Thoughts and bye byes, briefly
It's funny, having personal and serious and heartfelt phone conersations with children gathered around to watch you. You don't understand what I'm saying, do ya kids?
Heartfelt. My heart is feeling lots of things these days.
Our Secondary Education director passed away this week. He was a wonderful man. He was so incredibly integral in getting the ball moving on my move out of the castle and down to my new neighborhood. Without him I might still be up there. And he wasn't even my director. Thoughtful, personable, helpful. Only 40 years old. Rest in peace, Seb.
Heartfelt. My heart is feeling lots of things these days.
Our Secondary Education director passed away this week. He was a wonderful man. He was so incredibly integral in getting the ball moving on my move out of the castle and down to my new neighborhood. Without him I might still be up there. And he wasn't even my director. Thoughtful, personable, helpful. Only 40 years old. Rest in peace, Seb.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Some call it fun but some may call it classes
Sometimes classes go well, and sometimes they don’t.
But I really don’t stress about it.
Because I’m confident of my place at the school and I’m confident in my ability to guide children and teenagers and I am confident in the importance of not only what I am doing but more importantly the methods with which I am doing it. And whether or not they deserve it I have confidence in my girls’ abilities to accept that some days are harder than others and that things don’t always go well and that it’s not the end of the world.
Part of that comes from being in Burkina Faso, where part of the general attitude that one has is that some days, if not most, ARE hard, and things don’t always go well and often don’t go as planned and it never really is the end of the world. So I’ve adopted this attitude concerning many things through the course of my being here, and I assume that the girls, through the courses of their being here, have it going on, too.
I also play by the innocent until proven guilty playbook, assuming that these older-kids/young-adults will be reasonable and respectful and leaving the burden of upholding this trust to them.
One of the most impressionable moments I had as the assistant director of my summer camp the year before coming out to Burkina was being called in to help handle a unit-wide dispute. Girls being disrespectful, making each other cry, not listening to their exasperated counselors…not a fun way for anyone to spend a week in the woods.
I came in one afternoon after lunch—silly Molly, who’d been a counselor they’d hoped to have in their units for as long as any of them had been coming to camp, whose wacky tacky day apparel couldn’t possibly be wackier, who sings all sorts of camp songs with true conviction and dances at all-camps and plays games at the dinner table and reads bedtime stories and is just so well-loved by everyone. I sat down on a picnic table incredibly seriously, and I looked all twenty of those girls in the eyes and told them that I was not happy with them. Quiet. I told them I was hurt by the hurtful things that they were doing to each other, that I was disappointed in them, and that I did not want to ever have to come into their unit and speak with them like this again. …and they were silent. We’re being so bad that Molly’s mad at us? Shame. And they listened as their counselors took back the reins and helped them come up with plans for solving their disputes.
I didn’t need to do much. I didn’t need to struggle over power. My authority was there when I needed to use it, and was a pretty powerful weapon because I didn’t often wield it.
Teaching at my boarding school in Burkina is not the same as working at my summer camp in the woods of New England, but I find myself assuming the same sort of tactic here. The kids like me and I go with it, and I make them laugh and say silly things and have fun with them during class. And I am the adult in charge, but I don’t feel the need to have to state this directly unless the need arises.
It’s more fun when you’re smiling, dancing and singing along…especially when you get to do it up front.
But I really don’t stress about it.
Because I’m confident of my place at the school and I’m confident in my ability to guide children and teenagers and I am confident in the importance of not only what I am doing but more importantly the methods with which I am doing it. And whether or not they deserve it I have confidence in my girls’ abilities to accept that some days are harder than others and that things don’t always go well and that it’s not the end of the world.
Part of that comes from being in Burkina Faso, where part of the general attitude that one has is that some days, if not most, ARE hard, and things don’t always go well and often don’t go as planned and it never really is the end of the world. So I’ve adopted this attitude concerning many things through the course of my being here, and I assume that the girls, through the courses of their being here, have it going on, too.
I also play by the innocent until proven guilty playbook, assuming that these older-kids/young-adults will be reasonable and respectful and leaving the burden of upholding this trust to them.
One of the most impressionable moments I had as the assistant director of my summer camp the year before coming out to Burkina was being called in to help handle a unit-wide dispute. Girls being disrespectful, making each other cry, not listening to their exasperated counselors…not a fun way for anyone to spend a week in the woods.
I came in one afternoon after lunch—silly Molly, who’d been a counselor they’d hoped to have in their units for as long as any of them had been coming to camp, whose wacky tacky day apparel couldn’t possibly be wackier, who sings all sorts of camp songs with true conviction and dances at all-camps and plays games at the dinner table and reads bedtime stories and is just so well-loved by everyone. I sat down on a picnic table incredibly seriously, and I looked all twenty of those girls in the eyes and told them that I was not happy with them. Quiet. I told them I was hurt by the hurtful things that they were doing to each other, that I was disappointed in them, and that I did not want to ever have to come into their unit and speak with them like this again. …and they were silent. We’re being so bad that Molly’s mad at us? Shame. And they listened as their counselors took back the reins and helped them come up with plans for solving their disputes.
I didn’t need to do much. I didn’t need to struggle over power. My authority was there when I needed to use it, and was a pretty powerful weapon because I didn’t often wield it.
Teaching at my boarding school in Burkina is not the same as working at my summer camp in the woods of New England, but I find myself assuming the same sort of tactic here. The kids like me and I go with it, and I make them laugh and say silly things and have fun with them during class. And I am the adult in charge, but I don’t feel the need to have to state this directly unless the need arises.
It’s more fun when you’re smiling, dancing and singing along…especially when you get to do it up front.
Lexicon
“Tantie” is what the cuisinaire girls often call me. Tantie, a word most normally used by young children to refer to adult women, often generically at the insistence of their parents (As in, “Shake hands with Tantie,” to the wide-eyed, frightened one-year-old gawking at the scary colorless ghost person hovering above them. Me.) It also a word to describe large women, the sort that look like they could hit diva-esque notes. (As in, “I could barely breathe on that three hour bush taxi ride to Ouahigouya, squished in back between two tanties.”) It also serves as a kind of in-between word in my world up here on the boarding school castle, when students and younger girls want to display respect to women who are not necessarily in strict authority positions, such as the teachers and the nuns are. A very large number of the twelve-, fourteen-, sixteen-year-old students call the cuisinaire girls (many of whom are sixteen-year-olds themselves) Tantie. A casual, familiar respect. A non-familial “auntie”…pretty much exactly what it sounds like.
Marie, my cuisinaire friend who is twenty-two, calls me Tantie, always with a smile twinkling in her wide round eyes. She and the newest addition to the cuisinaire bunch (so recent I’m not even sure of her name yet) had run into me by the gate this evening when I was leaving my final class. It was dark; it had rained for almost an hour an hour before. My silly sandal had broken…the bit that goes between your big toe and all the others (a feeling I have not always been willing to tolerate) had popped out. For the second time. The other one had broken once, too. Both sides had been repaired with some hardcore needle and thread sewn through the plastic. The current broken shoe had also once been repaired through an amateur attempt at melting and welding done by yours truly in a stunning display of fire safety negligence. Every attempt at pushing it back in this time for my rocky walk down the hill and across the muddy path that cuts through the millet field and snakes behind my quartier to my house was thwarted. Rah. So I took off my shoes and was prepared to walk pied nu, like all of the children of this country are accustomed to doing.
But Marie and friend caught me standing on the wet rocks near the gate with sandals in hand. “Tantie! What are you doing? Your feet will hurt! There’s too much mud! Take my shoes! I have another pair. Tomorrow you can give them back to me.” And she bent down to remove her oft-repaired pair of sandals and hand them to me as we stood on the rocky ground. She gave me the shoes off her feet.
How many people would do that?
Marie, my cuisinaire friend who is twenty-two, calls me Tantie, always with a smile twinkling in her wide round eyes. She and the newest addition to the cuisinaire bunch (so recent I’m not even sure of her name yet) had run into me by the gate this evening when I was leaving my final class. It was dark; it had rained for almost an hour an hour before. My silly sandal had broken…the bit that goes between your big toe and all the others (a feeling I have not always been willing to tolerate) had popped out. For the second time. The other one had broken once, too. Both sides had been repaired with some hardcore needle and thread sewn through the plastic. The current broken shoe had also once been repaired through an amateur attempt at melting and welding done by yours truly in a stunning display of fire safety negligence. Every attempt at pushing it back in this time for my rocky walk down the hill and across the muddy path that cuts through the millet field and snakes behind my quartier to my house was thwarted. Rah. So I took off my shoes and was prepared to walk pied nu, like all of the children of this country are accustomed to doing.
But Marie and friend caught me standing on the wet rocks near the gate with sandals in hand. “Tantie! What are you doing? Your feet will hurt! There’s too much mud! Take my shoes! I have another pair. Tomorrow you can give them back to me.” And she bent down to remove her oft-repaired pair of sandals and hand them to me as we stood on the rocky ground. She gave me the shoes off her feet.
How many people would do that?
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Not so bad sometimes
Regarding the rough time I’ve been having as of late…my daddio suggested (jokingly?) that maybe me washing my hair would help wash some of the blah away. So I figured, what the heck…filled my bucket up extra full the other day and brought some shampoo sheets (weird travel things found at the Transit House and my only current source of hair wash) into my latrine to scrub down nice and thorough-like. And voilà! All better.
Well, it hasn’t been that easy…but things are looking up.
Well, it hasn’t been that easy…but things are looking up.
October 4th update
I’ve been having a rough little while lately. Pretty stressed out, unable always to immediately find good ways to calm down or chill out before getting overwhelmed, though I have been trying. Things have been looking up the past couple of days, fortunately…there’s a light at the end of this particular tunnel, perhaps. Today in fact was quite busy and good. I shall describe it to you.
After celebrating a particularly wonderful Sandwich Day yesterday (which consisted of, among other things, eating three delicious sandwiches as well as a not-terrible bar of chocolate, having a delicious and winding conversation about life and love and plans and ideas, and watching several episodes of 30 Rock), I awoke bright and early for a yummy cup of creamy coffee (instant) and a short bike ride through town (necessary). The air had lingering wisps of nighttime cool in it still, and the town was full of activity as many school aged children on bikes and à pied were convening at the various primary schools, collèges and lycées for (what people say is) the first day of classes (but what really amounts to students showing up to empty rooms and waiting around for a while before going home for the day; rinse and repeat for at least a week).
At the homestead I took a bucket bath to rinse some of the grime off of my bod, then put on clean clothes and went up to my school where I got my revised computer class/exam proctoring schedule for the year. All my classes (5 hours, woop) are on Wednesdays, and I am only scheduled to proctor exams on Monday afternoons. What will I be doing the rest of the time? Well let me tell you.
I’m helping out with baby weighing/vaccinations in my sector’s CSPS (health center) on Monday and Friday mornings. The head of the health center is on board with reaching out to local schools to see what kind of health stuff they could use help with, so after school kicks into some real working gear I’m going to be a little bit aggressive with that. For the moment, I show up around 7:30 or 8:00am and help to hang babies on a scale by putting them in a sort of little thin canvas bag with leg holes (adorable) and drop little drops of polio into their mouths (oral vaccination…bye bye polio!). I then hang around and chat with the nurses or sit in on any formations that are going on. I usually put up with some level of harassment and commentary about me not having a husband, and how I should really have a baby, and wouldn’t I like to go home with a baby as a souvenir of my time in Burkina?, and about how I should cook lunch for all of them because I’m a woman and they’re men, and ha ha ha. But I enjoy my time there for the most part (and often have no trouble figuring out when it’s time for me to leave).
Today several people from my quartier were at the CSPS sick with various things—malaria for two, a wild bumpy rash sore thing for one lil’ child—so I visited for a while as well, which I always think must really tire out the sick folks being visited who sit up with great effort from where they were laying on a mat on the ground to shake hands and exchange greetings, but that’s just the way it goes.
One of the patients I visited was the son of a woman who has proclaimed herself to be my adopted mother (actually, her children claimed it for her). This is a family full of wonderful people—from oldest son to youngest daughter, I enjoy being in the company of each, and often spend my evenings in their courtyard talking about the day and preparing tô.
At around 10:30 I headed home where I immediately set to work washing dishes that I had left sitting in my dish basin for way too long. Bleach was involved. After this, riding high on a wave of productivity, I grabbed my bike and two bidons and headed across my little village to get water from the faucet by the boutique. Obnoxious “helpful” comments and suggestions from a teenage girl along the way about where I should be getting my water and how I should be transporting it didn’t do any permanent damage to my cheery outlook on life as I strapped my faucet- (not well-) filled containers to my bike and walked (not rode, as if in this skirt yeah right brat) it home to do laundry.
Laundry laundry laundry in the shade created on my terrace by my house (no hangar yet), then hung up to dry. Lunch came next, spaghetti and cream sauce (onions, garlic, tomato, milk, vache qui rit, flour, water, spicy peppers) and water with lime, sweated off ten pounds while making/eating that. Rest time. Sprawled out on a pagne on a mat on my floor to close my eyes, reopening them every time children’s voices came in through my door to ask me for water. Yeessssssssssss, I will keep you hydrated. Here you go, now go away I am sleeping. …but I didn’t sleep, just read a bit of book and was startled into complete consciousness by gentle rolls of thunder which I thought might translate into rain but didn’t, anyhow it got me going with some stuff-packing, my laptop and notebook and journal into my backpack to bring up to my school to work a little, write a little, and suggest to my directrice that I come in for study hours tonight to discuss how one studies with the newest class of little angels.
So that’s where I am now, sitting in the teacher’s room of my school, business day done, notes for my evening’s discussion on study skills jotted down in my notebook by my side. I have to plan another class for Wednesday but I’ll do that either later tonight or tomorrow. Right now I’m going to go talk to my cuisinaire ladies to give them an update on our cours de soir (another thing I will be doing this year). I think we’ll meet twice a week, probably Tuesday, and Thursday evenings. On Monday evenings, I’ve been coming up to the school to sit with the students during their study hours. I gave a little pep talk/presentation on study methods to the youngest class the other evening during this time. Add to my schedule the fact that I’ll be typing exams secretary-style to help out from time to time, like last year.
All the stuff I’ve got penciled in weekly along with the stuff that’ll come up here and there feels really good when seen on paper. Here’s to a busy, happy year.
After celebrating a particularly wonderful Sandwich Day yesterday (which consisted of, among other things, eating three delicious sandwiches as well as a not-terrible bar of chocolate, having a delicious and winding conversation about life and love and plans and ideas, and watching several episodes of 30 Rock), I awoke bright and early for a yummy cup of creamy coffee (instant) and a short bike ride through town (necessary). The air had lingering wisps of nighttime cool in it still, and the town was full of activity as many school aged children on bikes and à pied were convening at the various primary schools, collèges and lycées for (what people say is) the first day of classes (but what really amounts to students showing up to empty rooms and waiting around for a while before going home for the day; rinse and repeat for at least a week).
At the homestead I took a bucket bath to rinse some of the grime off of my bod, then put on clean clothes and went up to my school where I got my revised computer class/exam proctoring schedule for the year. All my classes (5 hours, woop) are on Wednesdays, and I am only scheduled to proctor exams on Monday afternoons. What will I be doing the rest of the time? Well let me tell you.
I’m helping out with baby weighing/vaccinations in my sector’s CSPS (health center) on Monday and Friday mornings. The head of the health center is on board with reaching out to local schools to see what kind of health stuff they could use help with, so after school kicks into some real working gear I’m going to be a little bit aggressive with that. For the moment, I show up around 7:30 or 8:00am and help to hang babies on a scale by putting them in a sort of little thin canvas bag with leg holes (adorable) and drop little drops of polio into their mouths (oral vaccination…bye bye polio!). I then hang around and chat with the nurses or sit in on any formations that are going on. I usually put up with some level of harassment and commentary about me not having a husband, and how I should really have a baby, and wouldn’t I like to go home with a baby as a souvenir of my time in Burkina?, and about how I should cook lunch for all of them because I’m a woman and they’re men, and ha ha ha. But I enjoy my time there for the most part (and often have no trouble figuring out when it’s time for me to leave).
Today several people from my quartier were at the CSPS sick with various things—malaria for two, a wild bumpy rash sore thing for one lil’ child—so I visited for a while as well, which I always think must really tire out the sick folks being visited who sit up with great effort from where they were laying on a mat on the ground to shake hands and exchange greetings, but that’s just the way it goes.
One of the patients I visited was the son of a woman who has proclaimed herself to be my adopted mother (actually, her children claimed it for her). This is a family full of wonderful people—from oldest son to youngest daughter, I enjoy being in the company of each, and often spend my evenings in their courtyard talking about the day and preparing tô.
At around 10:30 I headed home where I immediately set to work washing dishes that I had left sitting in my dish basin for way too long. Bleach was involved. After this, riding high on a wave of productivity, I grabbed my bike and two bidons and headed across my little village to get water from the faucet by the boutique. Obnoxious “helpful” comments and suggestions from a teenage girl along the way about where I should be getting my water and how I should be transporting it didn’t do any permanent damage to my cheery outlook on life as I strapped my faucet- (not well-) filled containers to my bike and walked (not rode, as if in this skirt yeah right brat) it home to do laundry.
Laundry laundry laundry in the shade created on my terrace by my house (no hangar yet), then hung up to dry. Lunch came next, spaghetti and cream sauce (onions, garlic, tomato, milk, vache qui rit, flour, water, spicy peppers) and water with lime, sweated off ten pounds while making/eating that. Rest time. Sprawled out on a pagne on a mat on my floor to close my eyes, reopening them every time children’s voices came in through my door to ask me for water. Yeessssssssssss, I will keep you hydrated. Here you go, now go away I am sleeping. …but I didn’t sleep, just read a bit of book and was startled into complete consciousness by gentle rolls of thunder which I thought might translate into rain but didn’t, anyhow it got me going with some stuff-packing, my laptop and notebook and journal into my backpack to bring up to my school to work a little, write a little, and suggest to my directrice that I come in for study hours tonight to discuss how one studies with the newest class of little angels.
So that’s where I am now, sitting in the teacher’s room of my school, business day done, notes for my evening’s discussion on study skills jotted down in my notebook by my side. I have to plan another class for Wednesday but I’ll do that either later tonight or tomorrow. Right now I’m going to go talk to my cuisinaire ladies to give them an update on our cours de soir (another thing I will be doing this year). I think we’ll meet twice a week, probably Tuesday, and Thursday evenings. On Monday evenings, I’ve been coming up to the school to sit with the students during their study hours. I gave a little pep talk/presentation on study methods to the youngest class the other evening during this time. Add to my schedule the fact that I’ll be typing exams secretary-style to help out from time to time, like last year.
All the stuff I’ve got penciled in weekly along with the stuff that’ll come up here and there feels really good when seen on paper. Here’s to a busy, happy year.
Tom Maresco
A Peace Corps Volunteer in Lesotho named Thomas Maresco was killed on the third of September. He died as a result of a gunshot wound; the situation is being investigated. He was 24 years old. He is the third Peace Corps Volunteer to die since I accepted my invitation to serve almost three years ago.
I often think about Peace Corps service just becoming normal life after a while, and in a lot of ways it does. Novelty wears off and becomes routine. You wake up and do various things before eventually getting back in bed to start over the next day, just like anywhere else. But there are elements of risk present in our lives here, no matter where here may be. We get in accidents because we are adventurous by nature (why else would we have decided to turn down that desk job and move overseas?) …and because we live in countries with, among other things, no seat belts, speed limits, or regulations about nighttime headlight use. We get targeted because we are foreigners and that means, as much as we often pretend otherwise, that even if the money isn’t in our purse at the moment it’s worth a shot to take it anyway because we’ve got it somewhere. We get sick because it’s 100 degrees in our houses and after a morning of working in a field or a health center or a school dehydration can rob you of energy quicker than you realize, or the mosquitoes don’t care that you forgot to take your malaria pill one time a week ago, or you couldn’t in good faith refuse whatever seemingly innocuous food was offered to you by your sweet and caring neighbor earlier in the day.
One of the most important reasons I decided to join the Peace Corps was to represent my country. I wanted to be a positive example of an American for the world to see, especially during a time when our global reputation could use a little touching up. I wanted to spend two years somewhere and leave in my trail people who would say Ahh, America is made up of some pretty great people. There are days when I lead nothing, teach nothing, develop nothing, do nothing except be a good neighbor and share stories with friends and help cut vegetables and just be a good person.
Life is a fragile thing, and tragic accidents rob people of it everywhere in the world. It’s incredibly sad that the world has lost a smart, talented, interesting, thoughtful, creative, giving soul in Tom…I never met him and probably never would have, but I bet my living allowance that I described him accurately, because these are things I’ve found from my experience that all American Peace Corps Volunteers are.
I often think about Peace Corps service just becoming normal life after a while, and in a lot of ways it does. Novelty wears off and becomes routine. You wake up and do various things before eventually getting back in bed to start over the next day, just like anywhere else. But there are elements of risk present in our lives here, no matter where here may be. We get in accidents because we are adventurous by nature (why else would we have decided to turn down that desk job and move overseas?) …and because we live in countries with, among other things, no seat belts, speed limits, or regulations about nighttime headlight use. We get targeted because we are foreigners and that means, as much as we often pretend otherwise, that even if the money isn’t in our purse at the moment it’s worth a shot to take it anyway because we’ve got it somewhere. We get sick because it’s 100 degrees in our houses and after a morning of working in a field or a health center or a school dehydration can rob you of energy quicker than you realize, or the mosquitoes don’t care that you forgot to take your malaria pill one time a week ago, or you couldn’t in good faith refuse whatever seemingly innocuous food was offered to you by your sweet and caring neighbor earlier in the day.
One of the most important reasons I decided to join the Peace Corps was to represent my country. I wanted to be a positive example of an American for the world to see, especially during a time when our global reputation could use a little touching up. I wanted to spend two years somewhere and leave in my trail people who would say Ahh, America is made up of some pretty great people. There are days when I lead nothing, teach nothing, develop nothing, do nothing except be a good neighbor and share stories with friends and help cut vegetables and just be a good person.
Life is a fragile thing, and tragic accidents rob people of it everywhere in the world. It’s incredibly sad that the world has lost a smart, talented, interesting, thoughtful, creative, giving soul in Tom…I never met him and probably never would have, but I bet my living allowance that I described him accurately, because these are things I’ve found from my experience that all American Peace Corps Volunteers are.
Monday, September 27, 2010
After today, I'll be fiiiiiine!
Today is the last day. The very last day that I can say that I am not, have never been a teacher. Because tomorrow I will be a teacher. I will be standing up in front of a classroom filled with girls, professing knowledge in what I hope is an interesting and creative (but not too ostricizingly and weridly-creative) way. I am prepared but not too prepared. I have a special packet of delicious instant coffee for the morning. Excellent.
This is a picture of a future tree, one of at least five that are now growing in my courtyard. Look out, deforestation!!
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
years and years
It's nice to see a new place. It's been becoming very easy for me to get stuck in my own head lately. The one year mark has come and gone and I've been thinking so much about the past (reflecting on times before Peace Corps, living the past a little too much) and about the future (totally unsure of where I'll be, what I'll be doing, who I'll be with a year from now) that I've sort of come out of the present. I've always known I was going to go to college after high school, and I figured out pretty quickly that I was going to join the Peace Corps after that...I may have even known that in high school as well. So, next up...a big mysterious turn in the road. I guess they all look big and unique and mysterious from this vantage point though. And I do have a bit of a goldfish memory at times...thinking that this thing or this event is huge and new when maybe it's not. Shock and surprise. There are a lot of challenges up ahead, a lot I've got going on. What's next is what's here, what's now.
But it was nice to see a new place and old familiar people. To maybe talk a little too much about what's on my mind and in my heart with one friend, to put into words why speaking Mooré is so important with another friend, to commiserate about having to deal with tiring and annoying comments and suggestions from men on the street with another one.
Arrive back in Ouaga and see my town's name on a bus and smile because I really like it there.
Next Tuesday is my first day as a teacher. Better get prepared...but I don't really know if anything but my first day will prepare me. Only have a few hours of classes each week. I hope I enjoy them. I think that I will.
Gotta find a way to live more calmly, take the pressure off. I'm feeling so un-Burkinabè. Worried, rushed, no time, stressed out that I'm not doing things right, that if I'm somewhere I should be somewhere else. Gotta chill. Just be. I need to find some ways to do that.
Being here can be hard in ways that are kind of unexpected. And when you sit back and think about them, you realize that it's just life, life is what can be hard in ways that are unexpected.
But it was nice to see a new place and old familiar people. To maybe talk a little too much about what's on my mind and in my heart with one friend, to put into words why speaking Mooré is so important with another friend, to commiserate about having to deal with tiring and annoying comments and suggestions from men on the street with another one.
Arrive back in Ouaga and see my town's name on a bus and smile because I really like it there.
Next Tuesday is my first day as a teacher. Better get prepared...but I don't really know if anything but my first day will prepare me. Only have a few hours of classes each week. I hope I enjoy them. I think that I will.
Gotta find a way to live more calmly, take the pressure off. I'm feeling so un-Burkinabè. Worried, rushed, no time, stressed out that I'm not doing things right, that if I'm somewhere I should be somewhere else. Gotta chill. Just be. I need to find some ways to do that.
Being here can be hard in ways that are kind of unexpected. And when you sit back and think about them, you realize that it's just life, life is what can be hard in ways that are unexpected.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Bobo Dioulasso
I decided to come down to Bobo Dioulasso for a couple of days. A fellow volunteer's 30th birthday was the excuse...I've never been down here before and don't have a lot going on since school's start is a weekish away.
It's a nice town city. I like the feel.
I just wanted to say hi.
It's a nice town city. I like the feel.
I just wanted to say hi.
Friday, September 17, 2010
chez qui? chez me!
Dear Mom and Dad,
This is part of my new house, latrine/douche area over to the right there. Three rooms, lots o' space for little me. Let's go in, why dont we? Ah, but upon getting to the doorway, let's look out into my courtyard!
If you look closely you can see a kid in green (camoflauge) getting water from the well. My walls are not very high at the moment!
...and to the right, the entrance to my courtyard, temporary clothesline up above, a little place where I might eventually compost some stuff, the tree that currently provides me with daytime shade...
I should be embarassed that this huge mess of a room is on the internet for all to see, but I took these pictures right as I was heading out to the internet and...it's really not that bad! Got my bed down there, bookshelf, notorious chairs, scattered things...
Do you recognize this place pictured below?
It is the path leading from my school down into the village (where I now live). We took this path on our way to visit Ono. Look at all that green! This has been a good, rainy year for the folks of Burkina Faso. All signs point to the rain continuing through the end of this month, which will be good news for crops as well as for weather. I love me some fresh air!
And if you were to follow that path and turn right and push your way through some close-growing millet you would soon get to my new house!
This is part of my new house, latrine/douche area over to the right there. Three rooms, lots o' space for little me. Let's go in, why dont we? Ah, but upon getting to the doorway, let's look out into my courtyard!If you look closely you can see a kid in green (camoflauge) getting water from the well. My walls are not very high at the moment!...and to the right, the entrance to my courtyard, temporary clothesline up above, a little place where I might eventually compost some stuff, the tree that currently provides me with daytime shade...And inside my house?
I should be embarassed that this huge mess of a room is on the internet for all to see, but I took these pictures right as I was heading out to the internet and...it's really not that bad! Got my bed down there, bookshelf, notorious chairs, scattered things...
...and this is where I cook. On the other side of this room is where I keep my get-myself-clean stuff and my water and things. But yes. Voilà chez moi. I must get off the internet and bike back there right now.
Bye!
Monday, September 13, 2010
Here I am...
Today, for the very first time ever, I French braided my hair into pigtails. Hair, it turns out, can actually start to get long when you stop cutting it.
I've tried to do this before, quite recently actually, but it hasn't been altogether successful.
This task was made interesting by the fact that I haven't washed my hair in quite some time. Those of you who know me might not be too surprised to discover that I decided a while ago to stop washing my hair just for fun. Just because I thought I might like how it feels and looks. Kind of chunky without all of the social and physical aspects of dreadlocks. Kind of cartoon character hair is how I imagined it.
Well, deciding not to wash your hair for an undefined period of time is one thing when you live in a house with running water that flows like wine and from a particularly useful thing called a shower head, but when you live in a house slightly more removed from this luxury the choice aspect of the decision starts to come from a slightly different angle. The whole process included, it takes me about an hour to get ten and a half gallons of water. I take two 20-liter plastic bidons halfway across my quartier to a faucet where I pay a teeny bit per jug to fill 'em up before attaching them to my bike and walking them back to my home. There is a much closer source of water to my house, a well about ten feet from my courtyard that is literally a hundred feet deep with a cement barrier around it that only goes up to just below my knees. Not only is it incredibly difficult to pull buckets of water up from such a profound depth, it is also incredibly slippery and dangerous near this well. I help the ladies with their buckets from time to time in order to get badass cred, but my nun friend pretty much told that if I didn't fall in and die she'd come down and kill me if she found out I was getting my water from there.
Imagine a large jolly lady in a habit laughing after saying this. My nun friend has an interesting way of getting her points across and a fun sense of humor.
So yes...it takes a lot more effort to get water, and it would currently take a lot more water than normal to really wash my hair, so the choice becomes pretty easy nowadays when I fill up my bath bucket and take it to my little shower space outside.
Someday I'll wash my hair again.
I am incredibly happy in my new house, my real house, my house in a community with kids and neighbors and Burkinabè. I am incredibly happy with my flashlight and my dust and my little moringa tree seeds planted in my courtyard. I am so happy to wander over to Claudia's house at night and eat tô with her and her family, and sit and chat and look up at the stars until I am too tired to keep my eyes open and must walk through the millet and corn and bean fields to my house to go to sleep. I am very excited about working with the health center in my quartier and with my school up on the hill.
Year two is lookin' good.
I've tried to do this before, quite recently actually, but it hasn't been altogether successful.
This task was made interesting by the fact that I haven't washed my hair in quite some time. Those of you who know me might not be too surprised to discover that I decided a while ago to stop washing my hair just for fun. Just because I thought I might like how it feels and looks. Kind of chunky without all of the social and physical aspects of dreadlocks. Kind of cartoon character hair is how I imagined it.
Well, deciding not to wash your hair for an undefined period of time is one thing when you live in a house with running water that flows like wine and from a particularly useful thing called a shower head, but when you live in a house slightly more removed from this luxury the choice aspect of the decision starts to come from a slightly different angle. The whole process included, it takes me about an hour to get ten and a half gallons of water. I take two 20-liter plastic bidons halfway across my quartier to a faucet where I pay a teeny bit per jug to fill 'em up before attaching them to my bike and walking them back to my home. There is a much closer source of water to my house, a well about ten feet from my courtyard that is literally a hundred feet deep with a cement barrier around it that only goes up to just below my knees. Not only is it incredibly difficult to pull buckets of water up from such a profound depth, it is also incredibly slippery and dangerous near this well. I help the ladies with their buckets from time to time in order to get badass cred, but my nun friend pretty much told that if I didn't fall in and die she'd come down and kill me if she found out I was getting my water from there.
Imagine a large jolly lady in a habit laughing after saying this. My nun friend has an interesting way of getting her points across and a fun sense of humor.
So yes...it takes a lot more effort to get water, and it would currently take a lot more water than normal to really wash my hair, so the choice becomes pretty easy nowadays when I fill up my bath bucket and take it to my little shower space outside.
Someday I'll wash my hair again.
I am incredibly happy in my new house, my real house, my house in a community with kids and neighbors and Burkinabè. I am incredibly happy with my flashlight and my dust and my little moringa tree seeds planted in my courtyard. I am so happy to wander over to Claudia's house at night and eat tô with her and her family, and sit and chat and look up at the stars until I am too tired to keep my eyes open and must walk through the millet and corn and bean fields to my house to go to sleep. I am very excited about working with the health center in my quartier and with my school up on the hill.
Year two is lookin' good.
Monday, August 30, 2010
house? house?
House!
Today I moved the large majority of my things into my new house. YES! Still have my kitchen stuff and my bed to go...and I need a way to get and store water (and a finished latrine) before I can actually move there for good.
BUT PROGRESS! Real, sweaty, beautiful progress. Yes folks, it's possible.
More later, when I have a working computer with which to compose blog entries before coming to the post.
I'm going to go out for a little bit now with my new American sitemate and two Japanese volunteers who just moved to my town. We will probably drink a beverage or two and talk about life and stuff and then I will go back to my castle for one final night (I hope) and then life will keep on doing this wild thing it does where it keeps going on like a rollercoaster but usually a pretty good one. Thunderbolt.
Today I moved the large majority of my things into my new house. YES! Still have my kitchen stuff and my bed to go...and I need a way to get and store water (and a finished latrine) before I can actually move there for good.
BUT PROGRESS! Real, sweaty, beautiful progress. Yes folks, it's possible.
More later, when I have a working computer with which to compose blog entries before coming to the post.
I'm going to go out for a little bit now with my new American sitemate and two Japanese volunteers who just moved to my town. We will probably drink a beverage or two and talk about life and stuff and then I will go back to my castle for one final night (I hope) and then life will keep on doing this wild thing it does where it keeps going on like a rollercoaster but usually a pretty good one. Thunderbolt.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
and now...it's me time.
A nice thing about having a friend fly over to visit is that it allows you to feel even more connected with your life here. At least this was my very recent experience. Showing someone around, introducing them to people, doing things, doing NEW things even. Sitting back eating yogurt at the round point and realizing that I am comfortable. Having a friend there who knows you and has known you when brings out the part of you that maybe sometimes you feel like you keep hidden a little bit. I felt a little bit more like me, a little less hesitant to let out a ridiculous comment or be a little weird. A little more comfortable hanging out, bringing different friends together because hey, I'm showing my friend around, why don't we all go out and eat chicken tonight? I think it had a lot to do with the timing too. A year is a good amount of time to have been here...there's a bunch to look back on and a bunch to look ahead to.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
And don't it feel good
Midservice conference is a time for reflection and planning, for looking behind and looking ahead...and though I thought I knew exactly how everything was going to go, I've got to say I was plesantly surprised. I have a whole lot of new stuff coming up next year and I'm really looking forward to it. I feel encouraged by the process that the GEE program seems to be making, I am blown away by how good a job my fellow stageaires have been doing with the training of the next group of volunteers (the fruits of which are already being made evident to us who are already in the thick of things), and I thought that the whole day was overall pretty short and sweet and great. I'm running off of a high with all of this...our sessions just ended, and after a group photo that reinforced our collective reputation I am feeling very good to be a part of this bunch of people.
I've been at site on and off since the end of the school year, entertaining visitors and traveling and attending formations and such. It's weird to feel so disconnected, but I'm allowing myself to not worry about it because really there's a whole lot of waiting going on back there chez moi and also I'm doing good and important things. Third Goal is being well taken care of, what with my parents' visit last month and my friend's visit currently. All that being said, Ouaga is a sort of taxing place to be after a while, and even though I'm feeling pretty ok about the Peace Corps part of the Peace Corps, I really do prefer to be back at site.
Not too much to update in terms of the things that I'm actually doing. Bet you've gathered that. Not sure if I mentioned it already, but I'm going to be taking on some real responsibilities at my school next year in the form of TEACHING. Yes. That which we as GEE volunteers have in the past been encouraged not to do, I will be doing.
Here's the thing.
When I applied to join the Peace Corps, I very strongly expressed my aversion to being given a teacher assignment for many reasons. Curricula and the standardization of testing, the pressure of coming up with lesson plans, and just the general formal being a teacher parts of being a teacher were things that I was very much not interested. I did not want to go into a community and be put into a position of authority...I wanted to be a community development agent in the more grassroots sense of the term, working with community members to identify problems and solutions.
Turns out, the school where I was placed had already identified their problem: they needed an IT teacher. They already serched out a solution: request one from the Peace Corps. Along the lines communication got screwy and they ended up with me. Oops! They've been happy to have me and as you can tell from most of my posts I am very happy to have been placed where I was...but I haven't had any official place at the school...they're, all in all, doing pretty well.
When the end of the year teacher meeting was held and my counterpart expressed that he could really, really use help in the computer lab, I decided to speak up. I really like my school. I really like my nuns. I really want to be a legitimate part of the community there. It's been a year...and I can do it. So I will.
So...I am embarking on a learning experience, a growing experience. I'm rising to the challenge that has been presented to me. Good things will come from it...I'll have more cred as a teacher. An actual job to do, to identify with, and to build off of. More opportunities to connect with students, to encourage them to succeed, to teach them important things.
And I will live in a house in a neighborhood.
Soon.
Soon.
I've been at site on and off since the end of the school year, entertaining visitors and traveling and attending formations and such. It's weird to feel so disconnected, but I'm allowing myself to not worry about it because really there's a whole lot of waiting going on back there chez moi and also I'm doing good and important things. Third Goal is being well taken care of, what with my parents' visit last month and my friend's visit currently. All that being said, Ouaga is a sort of taxing place to be after a while, and even though I'm feeling pretty ok about the Peace Corps part of the Peace Corps, I really do prefer to be back at site.
Not too much to update in terms of the things that I'm actually doing. Bet you've gathered that. Not sure if I mentioned it already, but I'm going to be taking on some real responsibilities at my school next year in the form of TEACHING. Yes. That which we as GEE volunteers have in the past been encouraged not to do, I will be doing.
Here's the thing.
When I applied to join the Peace Corps, I very strongly expressed my aversion to being given a teacher assignment for many reasons. Curricula and the standardization of testing, the pressure of coming up with lesson plans, and just the general formal being a teacher parts of being a teacher were things that I was very much not interested. I did not want to go into a community and be put into a position of authority...I wanted to be a community development agent in the more grassroots sense of the term, working with community members to identify problems and solutions.
Turns out, the school where I was placed had already identified their problem: they needed an IT teacher. They already serched out a solution: request one from the Peace Corps. Along the lines communication got screwy and they ended up with me. Oops! They've been happy to have me and as you can tell from most of my posts I am very happy to have been placed where I was...but I haven't had any official place at the school...they're, all in all, doing pretty well.
When the end of the year teacher meeting was held and my counterpart expressed that he could really, really use help in the computer lab, I decided to speak up. I really like my school. I really like my nuns. I really want to be a legitimate part of the community there. It's been a year...and I can do it. So I will.
So...I am embarking on a learning experience, a growing experience. I'm rising to the challenge that has been presented to me. Good things will come from it...I'll have more cred as a teacher. An actual job to do, to identify with, and to build off of. More opportunities to connect with students, to encourage them to succeed, to teach them important things.
And I will live in a house in a neighborhood.
Soon.
Soon.
Monday, July 26, 2010
The norm
Waiting...waiting......
I am so close to being in my new house I can taste it. It's right there...RIGHT THERE! It needs screens on the window and a latrine before I can move in. ...and then after that a slightly higher wall around the (my!) courtyard and a door for said enclosure, a hangar to give me some shade, and a change of lock on the door. My nuns have to negotiate a rent price with the owner (a friend's brother) and then I can move in. Easy, right? That should take no time at all, right?
Neither of those two statements has ever seriously been a thought in my head.
This could take days (it will definitely take days). It could take weeks. It could, but for the sake of my sanity and heart rate I hope to Dieu it does not, take months.
So what do I do in the meantime?
Well...I wait.
I went on a little travel forray at the beginning of the month. That was fun and well timed. It was nice to come back. I like it here. I'll feel a little more relaxed when I have a house.
Ok, I'm pretty single minded these days. I could not fall asleep last night because thoughts of my new house, and what I'll need to get, and how I'll move all my things down there, and how I'll go about establishing routines and getting used to my changed environment and negotiating privacy and shopping...so many things to start living about my new life and I really can't do any of them from up in my castle.
Ok, I have some very important gmail chatting to do, so I will leave this at that. More substantial updates later...once there are substantial updates to give.
I am so close to being in my new house I can taste it. It's right there...RIGHT THERE! It needs screens on the window and a latrine before I can move in. ...and then after that a slightly higher wall around the (my!) courtyard and a door for said enclosure, a hangar to give me some shade, and a change of lock on the door. My nuns have to negotiate a rent price with the owner (a friend's brother) and then I can move in. Easy, right? That should take no time at all, right?
Neither of those two statements has ever seriously been a thought in my head.
This could take days (it will definitely take days). It could take weeks. It could, but for the sake of my sanity and heart rate I hope to Dieu it does not, take months.
So what do I do in the meantime?
Well...I wait.
I went on a little travel forray at the beginning of the month. That was fun and well timed. It was nice to come back. I like it here. I'll feel a little more relaxed when I have a house.
Ok, I'm pretty single minded these days. I could not fall asleep last night because thoughts of my new house, and what I'll need to get, and how I'll move all my things down there, and how I'll go about establishing routines and getting used to my changed environment and negotiating privacy and shopping...so many things to start living about my new life and I really can't do any of them from up in my castle.
Ok, I have some very important gmail chatting to do, so I will leave this at that. More substantial updates later...once there are substantial updates to give.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
years!
There’s just so much to write about, I don’t know where to begin!
My parents’ visit was awesome, filled with fun and relaxation and new experiences and misadventures. We saw so much of my life, spent time with so many of my friends, and stayed in some of the rankest hotels I have ever seen anywhere! Cars broke down in the middle of the night in huge currents of water, tô was eaten twice, tiny little hands were shook, a season of Survivor was watched, meals were cooked and enjoyed together. Really it was great.
My parents’ visit was awesome, filled with fun and relaxation and new experiences and misadventures. We saw so much of my life, spent time with so many of my friends, and stayed in some of the rankest hotels I have ever seen anywhere! Cars broke down in the middle of the night in huge currents of water, tô was eaten twice, tiny little hands were shook, a season of Survivor was watched, meals were cooked and enjoyed together. Really it was great.
I turned 24 on June 13th, a birthday well spent climbing a hill that has been beckoning me since my arrival.
I take back my earlier denouncement of brining sneakers with me to Burkina…it was awesome having good shoes for this little hike, and since it won’t be the last time I venture up and around these hills, I know I’ll be glad to have them again.
Later in the day there was a caramel-icious cheesecake making adventure. …didn’t really work out the way it probably was supposed to (wrong kind of cheese, among other obstacles)…so no pictures to share. Not yet, at least. It will be done.
And now what? The world cup is on in full force and my future site mate and I have been watching thirstily as we wait for the details of our respective new houses to be worked out. I’ve been cranking up the assertiveness in my search a little bit as the house I was supposed to move into actually fell down almost completely during the first rain storm of the year. There’s pretty much nothing left of it. So, I have a second house, less ideally located, in my back pocket kind of. Lots of waiting in this game I tell you.
I’m also waiting for my directrice to sit down with me and talk a little about what kinds of computer class help I can give to the school next year. Yes, I’m giving in, for many good and wise and mature and growth-oriented reasons. I don’t mind waiting on her though, as school pretty much just ended and I don’t think she once stopped working during the academic year. Take your time, Sister François.
In the meantime, I’ve got an idea cookin’ for something I can do to help with one of the things Sister Elisabeth wants to do for the school…vague, huh? If all goes well, I’ll post some details at another time. Don’t want to jinx things.
So yeah. I’ve got a few things to do these days, but a lot more things to think about. I think I’ll feel good when I have a new house though life will certainly unfold a little differently each day, that’s for sure. Less privacy, less ability to write things and do work and mess around on my computer, more visitors and expectations to visit people…a challenge, challenges, but better ones and more fulfilling ones. And I’ll still have up here to come to, especially if I am as connected to the school as it seems like I will be next year. Next year could potentially be ENTIRELY different from this year, a weird juxtaposition of living in a sort of new place where I want to take it easy and villageois my way into things while also having an official teacher-like job doing non-villegeois things. Scheduled and busy as opposed to wide-open and free. Year two as opposed to year one.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
I love ya tomorrow!!!
My belly is full of three and a half hamburgers from Chez Carlos, there are stage friends of mine all around the transit house watching 30 Rock on Bovard's laptop, and MY PARENTS ARE ARRIVING TOMORROW! Here is a 5:30am photo of me and my excitment!
...and that is all!
...and that is all!Thursday, May 20, 2010
it goes
I'm happiest when things are going on around me. When the cuisinaire girls are dancing as they work, when Robert drives up with a car full of thing to unpack, when students are chatting and washing their clothes.
I like to walk down to Lioudougou. Leave my bike up by my house, wander down the rocky hill, meander across the paths, lose my way and enjoy the encounters that happen because of it.
Sixty six point seven of the Peace Corps goals have nothing to do with development. I overheard a friend giving another friend that consolation once and was reminded of it by someone the other day. Chatting with a friend about development and comparing the American school system with the Burkinabè one. Following Sister Elisabeth around as she goes about her many tasks. Showing students photos of themselves as well as of my town and family back home.
I was not too happy yesterday. I spent some time helping to 3eme girls practice English before lunch, but remained pretty solo otherwise, cleaning my house and such. Feeling stuck in a day is rough, when the time feels like it is just something to get through. When the dusty wind that comes before the sprinkling of rain makes it difficult to walk down the hill. When encountering a gaggle of loyal kid-followers is a bit daunting. When the initial reserve of effort needed to walk over and be a part of things is running low. Today is a better day…I have a bunch of little tasks to do, a teacher meeting to attend, things to prepare before this weekend. Cake to bake.
The day before yesterday I spent a good amount of time with some Lioudougou ladies. Soon-to-be neighbors. Talked, followed, had a nice time.
My move down to my new house is going to go well. Congo is coming here on Monday to check it out and after that I can start fixing it up. When I live down there, people will be able to come to me. It won’t always be me going to them. I’ll be able to pop over to visit for a spell, knowing that I can repose and take a bit of refuge in my house that is just there next to the well. I have ideas…I have lots of optimism…I am so happy that this first school year is over, that a change is underway, that the rain is going to fall, that my environment is going to shift, that my confidence is a bit augmented and my resolve has been strengthened.
This was a learning year. A learning nine-months. Isn’t it all?
Immerse, immerse.
I don’t think two years is enough.
But we’ll see.
I like to walk down to Lioudougou. Leave my bike up by my house, wander down the rocky hill, meander across the paths, lose my way and enjoy the encounters that happen because of it.
Sixty six point seven of the Peace Corps goals have nothing to do with development. I overheard a friend giving another friend that consolation once and was reminded of it by someone the other day. Chatting with a friend about development and comparing the American school system with the Burkinabè one. Following Sister Elisabeth around as she goes about her many tasks. Showing students photos of themselves as well as of my town and family back home.
I was not too happy yesterday. I spent some time helping to 3eme girls practice English before lunch, but remained pretty solo otherwise, cleaning my house and such. Feeling stuck in a day is rough, when the time feels like it is just something to get through. When the dusty wind that comes before the sprinkling of rain makes it difficult to walk down the hill. When encountering a gaggle of loyal kid-followers is a bit daunting. When the initial reserve of effort needed to walk over and be a part of things is running low. Today is a better day…I have a bunch of little tasks to do, a teacher meeting to attend, things to prepare before this weekend. Cake to bake.
The day before yesterday I spent a good amount of time with some Lioudougou ladies. Soon-to-be neighbors. Talked, followed, had a nice time.
My move down to my new house is going to go well. Congo is coming here on Monday to check it out and after that I can start fixing it up. When I live down there, people will be able to come to me. It won’t always be me going to them. I’ll be able to pop over to visit for a spell, knowing that I can repose and take a bit of refuge in my house that is just there next to the well. I have ideas…I have lots of optimism…I am so happy that this first school year is over, that a change is underway, that the rain is going to fall, that my environment is going to shift, that my confidence is a bit augmented and my resolve has been strengthened.
This was a learning year. A learning nine-months. Isn’t it all?
Immerse, immerse.
I don’t think two years is enough.
But we’ll see.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Adventures in Hometownland
This past weekend was a weekend full of sights and scenes. A day in town with friend and neighbor Thomas brought us eventually to Lake Bam, the largest lake in Burkina, which is situated nicely in my town (though it continues up into others) and is owed a large amount of thanks for the almost-year-round production of tomatos and other such things with which we here are blessed. Our wanderings often take us towards this bit of the town, I think in part because the foliage becomes so gosh darned attractive as you approach. Dry hot and dusty turns to somewhat humid green and grassy, with fields in various stages of growth and a somewhat different feel to everything. And then bam!(ha) ...a lake.
As the water came into sight, I saw to my plesant surprise that the lake was full of jumping, splashing kids. We drew nearer. Momentarily setting aside fears of shisto, we bared our feet, waded in to around mid-calf level and walked slowly and carefully through the goopy, poop-like (I'm assuming) muck of the lake floor. Of course we were immediately approached by a steadily-growing crowd of drenched youngsters beckoning us to come in further...as their pleas became more insistant we both realized that it was time to perhaps increase the distance between the swimmers and ourselves. Rinsing out feet off as best we could, we set off walking.
Much of where the lake was (and will be again come rainy season) is currently dry, cracked, thirsty ground. Enthusiastic swimmers left safely over there, we decided to venture across the dried perimiter, newly purchased pairs of sandals on both pairs of feet.
Close one!
...and sometimes you try to leap but your new shoe gets stuck in the muck upon landing and you smash into the ground:
...bruised and scratch-ed knees that later required a team effort during the adminstration of hydrogen peroxide! Ouchie. Further wandering was rendered slightly less care-free, but the day was nevertheless quite good. A lovely adventure, a walk in the sun...this is not a bad place to be.
As the water came into sight, I saw to my plesant surprise that the lake was full of jumping, splashing kids. We drew nearer. Momentarily setting aside fears of shisto, we bared our feet, waded in to around mid-calf level and walked slowly and carefully through the goopy, poop-like (I'm assuming) muck of the lake floor. Of course we were immediately approached by a steadily-growing crowd of drenched youngsters beckoning us to come in further...as their pleas became more insistant we both realized that it was time to perhaps increase the distance between the swimmers and ourselves. Rinsing out feet off as best we could, we set off walking.
...taken from a safe distance, after rounding a bit of a curve:
Much of where the lake was (and will be again come rainy season) is currently dry, cracked, thirsty ground. Enthusiastic swimmers left safely over there, we decided to venture across the dried perimiter, newly purchased pairs of sandals on both pairs of feet.
In many places, irrigation ditches have been dug to draw water from the lake towards fields where the delcious tomatos and such are grown. Some of these ditches were easily stepped/hopped over. Some required a bit of preparation on the part of the lady in the tight skirt:
Close one!
Some trenches we hopped over, some we traversed with calculated leaps, and some required circumnavigation, forging through a deep ditch or two.
...and sometimes you try to leap but your new shoe gets stuck in the muck upon landing and you smash into the ground:
...bruised and scratch-ed knees that later required a team effort during the adminstration of hydrogen peroxide! Ouchie. Further wandering was rendered slightly less care-free, but the day was nevertheless quite good. A lovely adventure, a walk in the sun...this is not a bad place to be.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
So you're leaving for Burkina Faso...
When I was gearing up to head to Burkina, reading packing insights from current volunteers really helped. I posted my packing list before heading over and am re-posting it here with some commentary in case any of you lucky Burkina-bound folk stumble upon my blog in the coming weeks. Probably especially lady volunteers.
You’re probably going to pack things you don’t end up using all that much, and you may find that you left behind some things that would have made life a bit more comfortable. Don’t worry! When all is said and done you’ll be here, you’ll be able to buy or find everything you really need, and you can ask a helpful friend or relative to send over things you realize you want.
I packed pretty lightly – I think I only ended up using about 50 of the 80 allotted pounds – and was grateful for the lack of hassle this allowed in terms of getting around airports, moving in and out of training sites, etc.
Clothes
Notes: in the volunteer transit house there’s a “grab box” where people donate clothes they don’t want or need any more for other volunteers to take. Also; once you get to your site you can also get Western-style clothes at big markets, where Salvation Army donations are heaped into big piles, and get clothes made pretty cheaply.
3-4 short sleeved cotton shirts
2-3 tank tops
1-2 nice shirts
1 long sleeved shirt
1 lightweight zip-up long sleeved shirt
This was a good amount of tops. I tend to prefer shirts that cover my shoulders but the tank tops are good to have too. I actually had my mom send over a few during stage. During the chilly months, layering is helpful, and I found that I was ok without a big bulky sweatshirt.
1 long skirt
1 pair jeans
2 pairs lightweight capris
1 lightweight pair of long pants
I was glad to have brought one and only one pair of jeans. This was a good amount of stuff for stage. Pagnes, which are long sheets of fabric, are really versatile and I end up wearing them lots.
3 under wire bras, 2 sports bras
Cotton is wonderful. I had my momma send over another sports bra because I decided during stage that under wire bras were the craziest things ever, but now that I’m used to the constant boob sweat I wear them again.
15ish pairs underwear, 3ish pairs socks
I don’t think it’s possible to have too many pairs of cotton underwear. Again, hero mom came to my rescue with a care package full of cotton thongs…never thought I’d be a thong fan, but then again I never thought my bum would ever sweat as much as it does. I never wear shoes so I never need socks.
1 lightweight PJ pants, 1 pair PJ shorts
Perfect.
1 belt
Necessary.
1 hat with brim, my blue hair wrap
I wear my hat sometimes when biking, but I’m not really a hat person.
1 swim suit
Yes yes.
1 rain coat
This was the one thing I couldn’t find the night before leaving, what a pain in the butt to not have a rain coat during stage.
2-3 pairs sunglasses
Yes.
Chaco's sandals -- 50% off PCV discount
Wore them during stage, but really I’ve never been into Chacos type strappy foot binding sandals. Some people are and swear by them. I’m glad I have them, I’ve worn them on hikes and stuff but I don’t wear them every day.
Chaco's sneakers -- 50% off PCV discout
I have literally never worn these and I doubt I will before my time here is up. Even I end up going on a huge hardcore adventure, I’ll just put on my sandals. One can play soccer in Chacos sandals if one wants even, or buy white strappy sandals here. Not worth the space or the money. I wear sandals ALL THE TIME, as does every other lady here. You can buy nice leather sandals and cheap flip flops and everything in between at marchés. Sneakers too. Don’t bother bringing sneakers unless you love sneakers and can’t live without them for a couple of months.
2 pairs Teva's flip flops -- 50% off PCV discount
These are my favorite things ever, if I could go back in time I would have brought more pairs, they take up almost no room and they’re so comfortable (at least for the first few months of use). I’ve pretty much worn through the two pairs I have already but I still wear them because I’m frugal and lazy and really they’re still wearable.a few pairs of simple stud earrings, rings
I was super light with the jewelry I brought, but I’m glad I brought a couple of nice bracelets and such. Coulda thrown a couple more things in the mix.
Toiletries -- 3 month supply of what the PC does not provide/specific brands I like
my vitamins
heat wraps, Midol, InsteadsIf you’ve got tried and true methods for fighting cramps and PMS, bring ‘em along…though I have miraculously found that my period results in less pain here than it ever has before in my entire decade plus of dealing with it, which probably has to do with numerous environmental and dietary things. But one can not count on these things.
face wash, dr. bronner's liquid soap, 1 bar soap/soap holder, deodorant
1 toothbrush, 1 tube of toothpaste
nail clippers, nail file, tweezers, small mirror
a few Burt's Bees chapstick
some makeup/hair goop, bobby pins, hair cutting scissors
Household Things
You won’t need any of this until you move into your site but it’s really good to have any kitchen-y things you can bring to aid in your food preparation processes.
can opener, plastic spatula/scraper
Yes yes.
10'' lightweight non-stick frying pan
Ridiculously worth it.
kitchen knife, knife sharpener, 3 cutting board sheets
You can get knives here but I’m so glad I have one from home because it works really well and is not scary.
small insulated lunch box, ziplock bags, plastic storage containers (various sizes)
Yeah man, storage containers and zip lock bags are really great to have, and really easy to pack since you can put stuff in them before sticking them into your bags.
taco seasoning, spices, powdered drink mixes, hot chocolate powder
Though you can get spices here it’s nice to have spices from home, I had some sent over to me. Gatorade or Emergen-C type drink mixes are really nice to have on hand to change the flavor of the water you will constantly be drinking.
1 pillow and pillow case, 1 flat full sheet
Like a wee child, I carried my pillow through airports and onto busses and I could not be happier that I did. The pillows here are mostly pieces of foam, and ever night I sink into a big, comfortable piece of heaven.
small travel sewing kit
Good.
Recreational Things
French books (Le Petit Prince, Le Petit Nicolas)
Catch-22, World War Z
Very nice to have some favorites on hand. There are tons of recreational books of various qualities circulating amongst volunteers, so don’t take up too much packing space. ALSO…don’t bother bringing 501 French verbs or a French dictionary or anything like that because you will get them. Those books are great and they are here already, so don’t waste the money or room. Also also, when you get here and you meet a volunteer named Coleman, please remind him that he still has my copy of Catch 22 and that I would like it back. Merci!
Back to the Future DVDs
Came over with not a lot of DVDs because my lil laptop doesn’t have a DVD player, but my techy Dad ended up sending me a DVD drive and a bunch of burned movies and TV shows. A blessing and a curse.
An accordion folder for storing papers
I’m glad I brought one, we get lots of handouts.
pens/pencils, colored pencils, pencil sharpenerpaper, scissors, journal
I like having construction paper and colored pencils and good pens for my own sake.
Reading material and other things to fill those solitary moments
…if you know what I mean.
world map, USA map, Africa map
I just love maps, and it’s cool to be able to point out where I am from. And daydream about future voyages.
Techy Things
I strongly advise you to steer clear of the “I’m going to Africa and therefore want to rough it” mentality because that’s just not the way things are gonna be. Really. I swear. Bring your ipod. Music is a source of sanity (and cultural exchange). Bring your laptop if you have one…Burkinabè have laptops too. And so will your friends who are sitting in the transit house when you go to Ouaga, checking their email and downloading TV shows using the free wireless internet.
ipod, headphones, ipod speakers
digital camera, funky weird mini tripod thing
Diskman
Sweet awesome thing to have because then you can ask people from home to burn you CDs and you can listen to them and you can also buy CDs of artists here….and when your ipod breaks down you have backup musical sanity. I’m glad I brought mine.
shortwave radio
rechargable batteries (AA and AAA) and charger
Outlet converter
I forgot to get one of these, but was able to acquire one through another volunteer before leaving for my site. Get one before coming over.
solar charging backpack (listed below)
Comments below.
super tiny mini laptop (Acer Aspire One)
This was a pre-departure birthday gift that I begrudgingly accepted (I’m not good at accepting new technology things right away) but that I’m really glad I brought. It’s small and portable and discreet, I can put it in my backpack easily if I want to take it anywhere. If you don’t have a laptop don’t worry…you’ll be able to use computers at the Peace Corps bureau and at internet cafés, and you’ll have Peace Corps friends who will let you use theirs when you are together. BUT…if you are in the process of deciding whether or not to being a laptop, I say bring it. You’d be hard pressed to find a volunteer who would advise otherwise.
USB card
I guarantee you will want to have a USB card, even if you don’t have a laptop.
Other Things
camping mattress (Thermarest)
Nice to have during stage, and for bringing with you if you spend the night at someone else’s place. Craigslist all the way.
screen tent (REI bug hut 2)
I am going to echo advice that I read about this…get this tent. Do not get any other tent. Do not get the bug hut 1. Get this one.
2 Nalgenes, head lamp, 2 caribeeners
Leatherman wave
Great tool to have.
duct tape, super glue, thermometer
Duct tape is great. Thermometer is cool to have for curiosity’s sake.
durable clock with alarm
I use my phone for everything time related, no clock or watch necessary. You will definitely have a phone here. It’ll be provided, in fact.
incense/candles
Nice to have comforting smells.
bike helmet, comfortable bike seat
My bike seat is just fine. Rumor has it you incoming folks’ll be getting new bikes, so your seats’ll probably be fine too. A squishy bike seat COVER might have been a nice thing to pack, but I ended up giving my bike seat to a volunteer friend whose bike seat broke, and who didn’t want to go into Ouaga to get it fixed.
photo album (personal and public)
TBD gift for host family
I brought Connecticut post cards and playing cards (which I bought at the airport) and ended up giving these to my host fam along with coffee, sugar, chalk, nail polish and fruit, all of which I bought in Ouahigouya. They were uproariously pleased.
...And It's All Going To Fit In
Voltaic converter -- 35% off Peace Corps discount
Ok. So this little piece of technology is pretty cool, but it has also been gathering dust in my closet because I have literally never used it during this my first year. Why? Firstly, I was placed in just about as opposite a site as was described to me in the welcome packet as well as during training. I have copious amounts of electricity at my disposal (I am currently sitting in my living room with my overhead fan on, three outlets in sight) and therefore never need the use of a solar panel. But mostly, the thing is not discreet at all. People know what solar panels look like and they know that they’re pricey, so to have three of them on my back is just waaaayy more attention-grabbing than I want here.
I will be moving into an electricity-free site during June or July or August and might therefore start to get some use out of this bag but not by wearing it around…by leaving it out in my courtyard in the sun at discreet times most likely. For my purposes, a Solio charger would have been better. Solar panels are available here too by the way, and you can buy one to set up at your house if you’d like.
Since you really don’t know what your site sitch is going to be before getting here, don’t go too crazy buying things you might be able to use. .
my old EMS backpack
My old EMS backpack, which I have had for ten years now, is the best bag I have.
Durable shoulder bag/purse thing
Perfect for biking around town, I can put my wallet and water bottle in here as well as a bag of tomatoes or a can of powdered milk or whatever little things I buy.
Kelty Trekker 3900 external frame backpack
Craigslist baby. A great type of bag to get things from the States to Burkina, but you won’t really be using it except for long hauls so don’t go nuts buying anything new or fancy unless you’re already in the market for something that you want to use forever.
I think that’s about it from me for now. I am more than happy to chat with anyone who’s getting ready to come over. But trust me, the best thing to do is to expect the unexpected and to be willing to just go with the flow…everyone’s living sitch is different, everyone’s method of adapting to their circumstances is different. Take all descriptions and advice with a grain of salt and peel yourself away from Peace Corps Journals a couple of weeks before heading off so that you can clear your mind and start getting prepared for the experience that lies ahead of you, without too much solid expectations built up from the experiences you’ve been reading about. You’re heading to a great country filled with welcoming and friendly people, helpful Peace Corps staff (many of whom will know your names before you even get here), and a really great group of smart, funny, interesting volunteers who are at least a free phone call and at most a bumpy bush taxi ride (or two or three) away. So go out and soak up all the time you have left in the States, quit your job a week earlier than you planned, lay out in the sun, eat lots of ketchup with your French fries, drink really good beer on tap, and just generally enjoy life, and we’ll see you soon!
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Things are moving along
Yes yes, ladies and gentlemen and all. A successful workshop week, some good conversations with my nun friend and a couple of the APCDs, and it looks like things'll be changing up for me a bit next school year. Ideally I'll be staying in Kongoussi but moving OUT of my little castle on the hill and into a house in a community where I hope I'll be able to work more closely with primary/secondary school girls and parents.
So now I've got some action planning to do. The more groundwork I can do in all of this, the better my chances are at getting things moving at a reasonable pace. I also have a group meeting with the Country Director tomorrow to talk about site development. Considering my sitch, I feel it's pretty important that I go. Someone's gotta represent us boarding school volunteers.
That someone is me.
Man I am so ready for SOMETHING. Anything. A new start? It won't really be that, really, but in a way it will be, and in a way I'm looking forward to that. Coherent, huh? But yes. My mind is kind of mush and I want to go go go.
...but slow slow slow.
And so it goes.
Happy ALLLLMMMMOOOOOSSSSSTTTT my dad's birthday!
So now I've got some action planning to do. The more groundwork I can do in all of this, the better my chances are at getting things moving at a reasonable pace. I also have a group meeting with the Country Director tomorrow to talk about site development. Considering my sitch, I feel it's pretty important that I go. Someone's gotta represent us boarding school volunteers.
That someone is me.
Man I am so ready for SOMETHING. Anything. A new start? It won't really be that, really, but in a way it will be, and in a way I'm looking forward to that. Coherent, huh? But yes. My mind is kind of mush and I want to go go go.
...but slow slow slow.
And so it goes.
Happy ALLLLMMMMOOOOOSSSSSTTTT my dad's birthday!
Saturday, April 10, 2010
It's not so much the heat, it's the...
...actually it kind of is the heat. Well, the things that the heat brings along with it at least. The hottness of the hot season's heat isn't unbearable as far as the temperature of the air around me is concerned. Yes, it's hot, but the thing that's proving the be the biggest challenge for me is being just so gosh darned tired because of it.
There are actually some competing theories for why I've been feeling tired recently. One is that I am not getting enough regular exercise, and while this is probably true you will be hard pressed to find me routinely scheduling in 10 or 15k bike rides during my afternoons these days. Also, I went through the various diseases that I could have, mono of course being high up on the list. (Fun Molly mono fact: once during college I told my mom that I thought I might have mono and her reply was "you don't have mono, you're just lazy." I took it with a grain of truth salt. Fun Molly mono fact number two: upon getting my blood drawn at some later date for some unrelated reason, it was discovered that I had in fact HAD mono at some point during my life, though I hadn't known about it. Because I am super tough.)
...but I digress...
Obvs I don't have mono, or any other mystyrious mystical magical African disease. It's just difficult to move through the days recently because I am so tired. I woke up from a deep sleep this morning as the heat was beginning to rise and moved from my mattress under my hangar to my bathroom where I proceded to be amazed by how much energy my normal morning de-sleep routine was taking AND by how soaked with sweat my hand became when I touched any part of my body, especially my face. And it's not even that I was feeling altogether too hot...my body was just expelling all of my energy out through my pores I think because immediately after finishing up I moved into one of the rooms of my house and sat down in my chair and thought about how great a nap would be.
Not being able to justify a pre-8am nap, I decided to put forth a valliant breakfast effort. Chewing is so difficult sometimes. So is pouring liquid from one container to another.
Somehow I managed to get a little fuel into my body and wander over to the administration building where tasks awaited me. I also managed to bike into town to meet a PCV friend for a beer (I can apparantly justify pre-noon beer more easily than morning naps) and a sandwich, and I met with my nun friend to go over a bunch of the ridic questions we were given for this pending formation of ours. She and I seem to share feelings about what lies ahead of us...for that reason alone, I think it's gonna be a good week.
Back to talking about how hot it is for a second, have you ever straight up sweated salt? Like, you could literally brush your arm with your hand and wipe the result off onto your rice? I had this attractive thing happen to me today where my arms and chest broke out into a wild red and white rash I think because salty sweat salt didn't leave my skin quick enough for the sweat that followed to make an escape. While we're talking about sweat, my wonderful captive audience, a good way to combat the heat is to never wipe your sweat off ever, except for maybe when it drips into your eyes...you want to really maximize your appreciation of the occasional gentle breezes that blow your way. ...though at this point, said breezes are more often than not gusts or gales of sandy wind. It's all about balance.
So as you see I have come to the internet to run my mouth off once again.
I'm going to go ahead and give major props to one Miss Teddy who sent me an Easter basket care package. How lovely and thoughtful and nice! I've gotten some nice letters and packages and texts from some other friends as well...they always put a smile on my face.
So does the 5 o'clock hour, and it is presque upon me. I am going to make sure I am out enjoying it.
There are actually some competing theories for why I've been feeling tired recently. One is that I am not getting enough regular exercise, and while this is probably true you will be hard pressed to find me routinely scheduling in 10 or 15k bike rides during my afternoons these days. Also, I went through the various diseases that I could have, mono of course being high up on the list. (Fun Molly mono fact: once during college I told my mom that I thought I might have mono and her reply was "you don't have mono, you're just lazy." I took it with a grain of truth salt. Fun Molly mono fact number two: upon getting my blood drawn at some later date for some unrelated reason, it was discovered that I had in fact HAD mono at some point during my life, though I hadn't known about it. Because I am super tough.)
...but I digress...
Obvs I don't have mono, or any other mystyrious mystical magical African disease. It's just difficult to move through the days recently because I am so tired. I woke up from a deep sleep this morning as the heat was beginning to rise and moved from my mattress under my hangar to my bathroom where I proceded to be amazed by how much energy my normal morning de-sleep routine was taking AND by how soaked with sweat my hand became when I touched any part of my body, especially my face. And it's not even that I was feeling altogether too hot...my body was just expelling all of my energy out through my pores I think because immediately after finishing up I moved into one of the rooms of my house and sat down in my chair and thought about how great a nap would be.
Not being able to justify a pre-8am nap, I decided to put forth a valliant breakfast effort. Chewing is so difficult sometimes. So is pouring liquid from one container to another.
Somehow I managed to get a little fuel into my body and wander over to the administration building where tasks awaited me. I also managed to bike into town to meet a PCV friend for a beer (I can apparantly justify pre-noon beer more easily than morning naps) and a sandwich, and I met with my nun friend to go over a bunch of the ridic questions we were given for this pending formation of ours. She and I seem to share feelings about what lies ahead of us...for that reason alone, I think it's gonna be a good week.
Back to talking about how hot it is for a second, have you ever straight up sweated salt? Like, you could literally brush your arm with your hand and wipe the result off onto your rice? I had this attractive thing happen to me today where my arms and chest broke out into a wild red and white rash I think because salty sweat salt didn't leave my skin quick enough for the sweat that followed to make an escape. While we're talking about sweat, my wonderful captive audience, a good way to combat the heat is to never wipe your sweat off ever, except for maybe when it drips into your eyes...you want to really maximize your appreciation of the occasional gentle breezes that blow your way. ...though at this point, said breezes are more often than not gusts or gales of sandy wind. It's all about balance.
So as you see I have come to the internet to run my mouth off once again.
I'm going to go ahead and give major props to one Miss Teddy who sent me an Easter basket care package. How lovely and thoughtful and nice! I've gotten some nice letters and packages and texts from some other friends as well...they always put a smile on my face.
So does the 5 o'clock hour, and it is presque upon me. I am going to make sure I am out enjoying it.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
this morning wasn't so long ago, was it?
It’s Wednesday morning. I’m listening to an audio book by Jon Stewart and the Daily Show in my living room, legs crossed on my metal canteen that has taken up a dented coffee-table type function after my most recent home cleaning/reorganization spree. Feeling inspired. As I get more comfortable with my life here, more of my me starts to come back into my being here. I dunno if that makes sense to read, but it makes sense to feel.
I’ve been working on answering as many of the questions I’ve been given to complete for this training next week as I can…I’ve decided to profesh it out, typing it all up in good French and stuff instead of just showing up with the info in my head like I had initially resentfully planned. I talked to my provincial school inspector on the phone this morning, and he said he’ll be in his office this afternoon so I can stop by and get answers to the big statistical questions that we are being asked to answer (without any explanation as to why, but whatevs, my attitude about this venture is actually quite positive because it’s not worth letting disassociated bureaucracy negatively affect my daily life any more than it has to).
Anyhow…so after a bit of the heat has passed, sometime around 3:00, I will head into Kongoussi to sit with this man for as little time as is politely possible and try not to get roped into going out for a drink afterwards with him and my APE president friend. I’m going to have as much of the information as I can have typed up this evening so that I can show it to Sister Elisabeth as well as the Directrice to see if they have anything to add. If any information is lacking, I’ll go back into town to search again on Friday perhaps.
It’s almost time to do laundry again. Didn’t I just do my laundry?
Another thing I’ma do today is talk to my Directrice about an idea of mine. I brought it up with her yesterday and must now think it through in French and get in a pumped frame of mind to discuss. It’s a good idea.
Tonight I will be more aggressive in getting my cuisinaire friends to come over for reading/writing lessons…they didn’t show up yesterday despite one of them telling me they were planning to, and I don’t want our project to completely lose steam. I have a couple of easy reading French books to show them, and I hope they pique their interest…you know, something new, sense of accomplishment once they learn how to read a small story, all good things. I’ll be gone all next week (as I pretty much was all during congé), and I don’t want out evening classes to be something that’s just left behind. There needs to be some sort of progressive something or other that keeps ‘em coming back, keeps them interested.
I’ve been hugely regularly checking my email and blog and stuff for the past few days due to the fact that I have in my possession an internet USB key which, when loaded up with a sim card that is full of credit, allows me to get online anywhere my laptop is. Who woulda thunk it, right? The problem is, this costs a varying amount of money and I was just starting to SAVE money on phone credit due to the flotte plan that all Peace Corps volunteers and staff are on that allows us to call each other for free.
…speaking of, lunchtime phone call. Hold on.
…ok, that was a nice chat. Now it’s time to get back into motivation-mode. More questions to answer and a full afternoon to brace for. But first I must hydrate the heck out of myself so that I can psyche myself up for all that I have planned.
This week is going to be good. And next week will be in Ouahigouya and will be different and thus interesting. I might try and visit my host family during the weekend after the Positive Deviance formation…I’m sure I won’t be the only one with this plan! And then there are only two more weeks left of this dreaded month called April that everyone talks about being unbearably hot but which really hasn’t been all that bad. Maybe it has something to do with my luxurious living condition (actually, I’m sure it does…high ceilings big windows shaded from the sun and ceiling fans are not easily dismissible) but even outside my shaded porch thermometer has yet to hit 100F today…though if I take it out into the sun its tune will change instantaneously. Really I think that we were thrown a curveball with a couple of the weeks back in early March when the heat got ridiculous real fast and real early and then was either over or I adjusted to it. Prickly heat rashes aside, dry heat ain’t no thang.
Things are good and they’re gonna be good.
And I’ve got good things going on in my life.
Shout it from the rooftops.
I’ve been working on answering as many of the questions I’ve been given to complete for this training next week as I can…I’ve decided to profesh it out, typing it all up in good French and stuff instead of just showing up with the info in my head like I had initially resentfully planned. I talked to my provincial school inspector on the phone this morning, and he said he’ll be in his office this afternoon so I can stop by and get answers to the big statistical questions that we are being asked to answer (without any explanation as to why, but whatevs, my attitude about this venture is actually quite positive because it’s not worth letting disassociated bureaucracy negatively affect my daily life any more than it has to).
Anyhow…so after a bit of the heat has passed, sometime around 3:00, I will head into Kongoussi to sit with this man for as little time as is politely possible and try not to get roped into going out for a drink afterwards with him and my APE president friend. I’m going to have as much of the information as I can have typed up this evening so that I can show it to Sister Elisabeth as well as the Directrice to see if they have anything to add. If any information is lacking, I’ll go back into town to search again on Friday perhaps.
It’s almost time to do laundry again. Didn’t I just do my laundry?
Another thing I’ma do today is talk to my Directrice about an idea of mine. I brought it up with her yesterday and must now think it through in French and get in a pumped frame of mind to discuss. It’s a good idea.
Tonight I will be more aggressive in getting my cuisinaire friends to come over for reading/writing lessons…they didn’t show up yesterday despite one of them telling me they were planning to, and I don’t want our project to completely lose steam. I have a couple of easy reading French books to show them, and I hope they pique their interest…you know, something new, sense of accomplishment once they learn how to read a small story, all good things. I’ll be gone all next week (as I pretty much was all during congé), and I don’t want out evening classes to be something that’s just left behind. There needs to be some sort of progressive something or other that keeps ‘em coming back, keeps them interested.
I’ve been hugely regularly checking my email and blog and stuff for the past few days due to the fact that I have in my possession an internet USB key which, when loaded up with a sim card that is full of credit, allows me to get online anywhere my laptop is. Who woulda thunk it, right? The problem is, this costs a varying amount of money and I was just starting to SAVE money on phone credit due to the flotte plan that all Peace Corps volunteers and staff are on that allows us to call each other for free.
…speaking of, lunchtime phone call. Hold on.
…ok, that was a nice chat. Now it’s time to get back into motivation-mode. More questions to answer and a full afternoon to brace for. But first I must hydrate the heck out of myself so that I can psyche myself up for all that I have planned.
This week is going to be good. And next week will be in Ouahigouya and will be different and thus interesting. I might try and visit my host family during the weekend after the Positive Deviance formation…I’m sure I won’t be the only one with this plan! And then there are only two more weeks left of this dreaded month called April that everyone talks about being unbearably hot but which really hasn’t been all that bad. Maybe it has something to do with my luxurious living condition (actually, I’m sure it does…high ceilings big windows shaded from the sun and ceiling fans are not easily dismissible) but even outside my shaded porch thermometer has yet to hit 100F today…though if I take it out into the sun its tune will change instantaneously. Really I think that we were thrown a curveball with a couple of the weeks back in early March when the heat got ridiculous real fast and real early and then was either over or I adjusted to it. Prickly heat rashes aside, dry heat ain’t no thang.
Things are good and they’re gonna be good.
And I’ve got good things going on in my life.
Shout it from the rooftops.
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