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----------------------------------------- Hello all, Just to tell you all that I made it to ouagadougou just fine, going to be in ouahigouya for training soon, Internet access may be limited. Nicer than Afghanistan by far, roughly as poor though. Stay safe, René ---------------------------------------------- Hi all, Composed this list to keep people informed. If you want to be removed (or added, if this was forwarded from someone else) let me know. Likewise, please do not reply with forwards, like jokes, "charity" chain letters, etc. Responding individually will be rare for the next few months of training, which so far seems more worthwhile than my BA in psych. I am here to be a Small Enterpsise Development advisor. The Burkinabé people are really nice, unnervingly so. The country is also dirt poor, but not depressing like Afghanistan, by far. I'll post more later René ---------------------------------------------- Hello all, More details of what I'm up to. The country I'm in is Burkina Faso (landlocked nation in west Africa). From my "civilianized" résumé (mostly PSYOP) I got the job of small business advisor, or will be once I swear in. Lot of training first, and I Don't have time for this Internet stuff regularly. They tested me in French, and I did well enough to start with Mooré also. I have been adopted by a Burkinabé family. "Dad" is around my age, speaks French, and has a wife and 6 year old daughter that is learning French (speaks Mooré). They are all Muslim, except his mom, who is Catholic, and speaks only Mooré. There are 67 other languages in Burkina, and many ethnicities. Tolerance is #1 as far as religion goes. The Burkinabé are quite possibly the friendliest people I have ever known. And so much has happened in the last week that I just don't know what more to say. Stay safe, and send this email around to anyone interested, René ----------------------------------------- Now, as far as what's been going on... On Saturday I helped start a credit and savings club. It was awfully easy, I guess the hard part is finding motivated people with enough in common to get the thing going. The Burkinabé organize easily and they don't kid around with club rules. They seem pretty relaxed, with a similar "in shah Allah" attitude that the Afghans have, but when it comes to organizing and working with "le blanc", the motivation just catches me off guard. Almost makes it feel like saving the world here will be a breeze! Sunday was chill day. We paid 1000CFA ($2) to swim in the pool of the local hotel. It was wonderful. And I got sunburn. And I will go swimming again next and every Sunday if I can (and wear my sunblock from now on, because I do have to bike with a backpack everywhere). Also, I made a toast to Jon Santos & SSG Owen. The shotglass I had bought for Jon, and now keep for him, I left at home, but my mom bought me one to bring over. Plastic baggies of whisky shots are available in many shops (many beverages are sold that way). JW red is also available pretty cheap, but I want to avoid bringing a bottle of anything into my mostly Muslim household. Today Monday I visited a handicapped artisans association shop, named Bang N Tum (I forget what it means). One artisan was making aluminum pots (artisan in this culture is anyone who makes stuff). He made his molds out of dirt. Pounded the shape into it, poured in the metal, cooled it, voi la, a pot. A pretty facinating process, considering the limited resources. Another artisan made patiques, cloth dyed with designs in many colors. His hands were scarred with lye burns that reminded me of the movie 'Fight Club'. He used gloves when he showed us his dyeing process. Impressions and so forth: I compare with Afghanistan a lot. Afghanistan was a war-scarred mix of pre-biblical and modern that just left a post-apocalyptic taste in my mouth. Burkina never got that built up, and it never got torn down. The Burkinabé are pretty proud of their recent history, since it has been relatively peaceful. So it's bizarre to watch TV here. Every local show has a family that looks as poor as my family, in a clay house that looks like my clay house. The commercials are really low budget. Marketing here could go a really long way. But most of the products peddled are worth like $0.20 anyway. Afghanistan was blown up connexes and mudhuts with vendors dressed like Joseph and Mary selling Cokes next to the remains of a Soviet tank. Africa is that same National Geographic topless woman with tribal scars on her face and the baby strapped to her back, pounding away at grain in a giant mortar, suddenly whipping out a cell phone that is beeping butchered Beethoven.More than one trainee has gotten up from the cybercafe, walked out into the searing heat, and goats, and vultures flying around like pidgeons, and asked "Someone tell me again, where the hell am I?" We have only had one female quit so far. She rarely talked to anyone, and it is my understanding that she also chaptered out of the Army BCT, and then also "quit" the airforce after a year. Everyone thought leaving was the best thing for her. All who remain are in pretty good spirits, despite the heat, the language barriers, and the diarrhea. I'm fine now, thanks. Some food is ok, the ñame is good. The rice just needs salt. The omelet sandwiches are really nice. Tô sucks. Tô tastes like what it sounds like. Tô is African grits, with no flavor beyond that of boiled water, and it is served with a baobab slime sauce. I finally got my family to stop serving it to me. Salads have to be avoided, but they can be good if you want to brave it. Mephloquine Monday! I am on Mephloquine AKA Lariam, and at all times it seems, someone near me has malaria. I am fairly certain that I have the parasite in my system now, and that I will get malaria if I miss a dose of Lariam. It seems like a common thing for volunteers to get. I intend never to miss a dose of my beloved insanity inducing malarial prophylaxis. Many more fun things have happened so far, but I rarely have a chance to stop and write anything down. Further details for contact: My phone service provider is CelTel. I am not charged for receiving calls or text messages. My time zone is GMT 0, AKA London, AKA Zulu. If you want to call, please do so in the evenings for me (mid afternoon and later for east coast US and PR is fine). I hear calling cards for west Africa can be pretty cheap. I have no clue what you have to dial to call me from the States, and I am not responsible for any abuse you may suffer from your phone service provider if you call me direct. I have not used Skype, but I hear it works very well, and is one of the cheapest options. Stay safe, René --------------------------------------- Busy Busy Since last time, I visited an HIV/AIDS support organization, AMMIE (forget what it stands for). I don't know what to compare with, but I was surprised by how well run this organization was. Stories from members were all like "I was forced to marry this sick man, and after he died his family rejected me, and my family treated me like crap, and I got tested, and turned out HIV+, and my family rejected me too. By the time I found out of this organization I was gravely ill, not to mention completely infested with parasites. That was five years ago, and as you can see, I'm fine now, thanks to AMMIE." Help and treatment are not out of reach for even the poorest here it seems. These organizations really seem to have their act together. One way or another, we all will be working in some type of HIV/AIDS program, be it awareness, condom distribution, etc. We have had a lot of interesting classes, including cooking, and soon they will teach us to make a mud stove. I want to learn how to make that already, I want to upgrade the kitchen where I live, which consists of exactly three rocks on the ground, with a fire burning in the middle. We visited a radio station today. Was kind of a trip down memory lane. I will have my own 20 minutes on radio with my group in a week or two. Our topic is diarrhea =) I'm happy that I will finally be able to deliver my message myself in the target language. Mooré class is good, I finally know what my granma has been telling me all this time before I go out: "Wend na lebg laafi", "May God return you safely". I have been neglecting a novel I'm supposed to be reading for French class. And now I have a class, so I might as well take my notes right here! Information & Comunications Technology: Local Cyber cafés - services provided: WWW access, data entry, computer classes, Air Conditioning, some even have cold drinks for sale. Some have a limited interface, some give you full access to the OS. Some are windows, some are Linux. If the place has no AC, then workstations are prone to breaking down. Costs are variable, 500F an hour here (about $1) but more expensive in small villages, and cheaper in big cities. Radio Stations - Voix Du Paysan - Focuses on the agricultural/farming audience. People pay for ads like "I lost a cow, around the village of X, it looks like so...". 8 people work full time, 24 part time. Range of 100Km, sometimes broadcasts all the way to Mali. Software used is Sony Soundforge. Government gives them a grant every year (but this year they forgot to put in the paperwork and are not getting any money) they also make money from advertising. They have a lot of programming for educating and informing the audience, such as proper farming practices, HIV/AIDS, female genital mutilation (which is still done here, and is a leading cause of HIV infection). They are really open to ideas, and had no problems making room for us to go and talk one day on the air about diarrhea. ICT activities I can try: getting more merchants to use phones, establishing new cybercafés, [me personally, I want to look into getting local artwork merchants to sell wares online] Costs of a computer: More than double what one costs in the US. Mainly due to high import taxes, since most people bringing in a lot of computers are rich and/or foreign (which in this country, are invariably also rich). Internet costs are a little crazy too: FasoNet is 17700F a month, for dialup access, and add to that around 1200F a minute(!) for a phone connection. A cyber café is much more reasonable than Internet at home. We will be getting a guide to computers in French, so I can say stuff like "Double click the icon there". People learn variably here. People with cell phones will have an easier time learning how to use a computer it seems. And I just got my "Trainee Directed Activities" notebook back. I have to turn that in every week, with responses to a bunch of questions I have to ask my family about their lives & businesses (dad has an art craft store, mom sells sugared peanuts and coco au lait). tick tock tick tock like two days have passed and I still have not sent this out, so I'll just make this email longer: I also had an impressive class on agriculture in Africa from an American PhD student that just happened to be in the area. Chances are high that I will also work in Agrobusiness in one way or another. I had an interview to help determine my placement in the country to work. Basically, the information and communication tech stuff is what grabbed my attention the most, and that is in the bigger cities. But, I always stress that I don't mind working with whatever. I am more at home with the ICT stuff, but I may discover I have a knack for agribusines, or putting together credit and savings clubs, or doing any of the things I am learning. And while I did pack optimistically (regarding electricity) I can live without it. There are places I can go to charge my laptops (yeah, I brought two, and other volunteers are jealous. Apparently not a bad move here at all) near every village. So I still don't know where I will be placed. There are people requesting to be placed out in the boonies as far from light polution as possible, and there are people who want to live like urban princesses. And the Peace Corps is going to try to make everyone as happy as possible. Let's see how that goes. Mooré class yesterday was silly. We learned to count stuff, and money, and that is not the same. Nu is five. Like, five chairs or whatever. But it is also 25 Francs. Basically, multiply by five when talking about money. So we need dictionaries and calculators to speak this ancient tribal language. Class gave me a headache, saying 1337 Francs in Mooré is hard enough, doing the math to say it in French about wore me out. And I may have to teach accounting in this country... In Mooré (or Fulfulde, or Jula, or something else...) Another day. Went to the marché (market) to buy stuff for our cooking class. We made fajitas and banana bread. While at the marché I drank zom koom (millet water beverage) and I checked on the progress of a shirt and pants I'm getting made. Also had a meeting with my savings and credit club, which I helped start a while back. We also have a project for an income generating activity, and we offered our idea (5 dried spice mix, popular kind of thing here) to the group, and see if they feel like carrying it out. If they end up making money, then all is good with us. I also plan on making those nifty fly catchers I saw in Qatar, this country needs them, and if a Burkinabé can make money making them, all the better. And I had two encounters with locals who needed my English ability to leave Burkina for work and school (one to the US, another to the Netherlands). And I was hit on by at least three women in various locations. I haggled over the price of one of them with her brother in Mooré. She cracked up when I said "barse, barse" (too much, lower the price for me). I think he was saying he was giving her away for free. And our cooking teacher (French Canadian) told us about how she never expected to marry someone from West Africa, but did, and has been here for 11 years. ;-) And I think that is it for now, more later. Stay safe, René --------------------------------------- We finally know where we are going to be working for the next two years. During my placement interview I requested a medium sized town, in the south, electricity would be nice but not required. But I can be flexible about all that, I could do something I already know, or something totally new, like microfinance related stuff. I'm sure I'd get the hang of whatever is thrown at me. And I can and I'm willing to work in a structured environment. I got Ouagadougou (formerly spelled Wagadugu, pronounced wagadoogoo), capital of Burkina Faso. Three of us will be working here. The other 35 are scattered accross the country, in towns and villages of all sizes. One volunteer in Ouaga will be working with artisans associations, another with children's services of some kind. I will work with an NGO, A.SU.DE.C (Africa's Sustainable Development Council). They do stuff all accross the board - from health services, to agriculture training, to microfinance - but emphasis seems to be on educating the population about all that is available for them to do to improve their situation in a self-sustaining way. Among other things I don't know yet (which may become the bulk of my work) I will also be doing website maintenance, and helping write success stories about the stuff they do (ring any bells, anyone?). We all went to Ouaga to find this stuff out, and I was lucky to be able to visit my site right away. My office will be down the street from the Peace Corps office. Drawbacks: Pullution is nasty. Like Afghanistan, but with a little more diesel fumes. Everything is more expensive. Crime is higher than in a smaller town. On our first night out in Ouaga, a few hours after we were warned about the assortment of thieves that roam the streets, a purse snatcher did his thing in the cab I was sitting in, grabbing a trainees purse and dashing for it, but only to get stomped by three volunteers that were standing outside (they tripped him and stood on his back until police came. A local punched him in the scuffle, and odds are the police beat the crap out of the thief afterwards). The trainee lost none of her cash, but was pretty rattled by the whole thing. Details of ... protocol to note so far: If a thief is stopped, stolen items dropped on the floor will not be touched by anyone (but the owner). In a bar, a bottle will not be opened if whoever is going to drink it is not watching it get opened. A lot of Lebanese and European expats in the city. I can actually buy a hookah and all related items at the supermarket. And there is a regular Burkinabé market where I can shop for the ingredients I will cook with. And there is a Vietnamese family in the city as well (their story was one of great hardship, starting at the Ivory Coast during the Vietnam war, and ending here in Burkina in a very successful restaurant) And they have recao (cilantro) growing in their front yard, which they imported from Vietnam. They got Burkinabé citizenship just last year. I will be paid more for being in the city, but probably not enough for me to be able to afford to eat Indian, Lebanese, Vietnamese, Mexican, or whatever every day. Pho here is not as cheap as it is in the States. I got back to Ouahigouya yesterday. I will continue to study here for another month, then I will swear in, go on a study period to my site, then return here to get more technical training, for a few weeks, then back to Ouaga. More later, René ------------------------------------------ Hi all, I'll just pick something random to start with: The Burkinabé like to look good. Well, to a westerner good would be subjective. The Burkinabé like to wear bright, colorful, new-looking clothing. They typically dress better than the average westerner for everyday work or walks through town. Women that do not spend time or money on their hair, wrap it in colorful headdress that matches their clothes. The most basic garment is the pagne, usually just a piece of cloth with a colorful pattern. In its most basic form, the pagne is used as a skirt by women, simply wrapped around the waist and folded down a little at the top to keep it in place. Female volunteers have been wearing these from the start. Both men and women will have garments made from pagnes. It is interesting to note that few patterns, if any, are gender exclusive. Male volunteers are already having shirts and pants made. My set cost around $8.25 (fabric and tailoring) and I have only worn it on a couple of occasions. I will most likely wear it for the swearing in ceremony. No female volunteers have worn any pagne dresses yet. Burkina Faso was rated by some big international body (UN something-or-other I think) as being the 3rd poorest country in the world (Afghanistan was number one, I think). Someone mentioned to me recently, that his exellency Blaise Compaoré, president du Faso, now on his third term, which is one more than the constitution here allows, is one of the world's richest presidents. He has already paved way to running a fourth time, thanks to the supreme court. Pagnes and t-shirts with his face and party logo are very, very popular. And the Burkinabé all laugh, some a little nervously like my host father, when asked who killed the previous president (plus a journalist and a singer who criticized Blaise). "Nobody knows!" they say, with the exact same intonation and eye rolling as if they had asked me to "Guess who!" At least the people here are not really hungry. Malnutrition here is merely due to ignorance. In the city where I am in, one can see a child here or there with the classic Care commercial distended bellies, or ladies with goiters, like my host grandmother. (After my first informal sensibilisation, my family here is now adding iodized salt to all of her meals.) Kids here unfortunately, are typically fed crap. They often get only leftovers and/or plain rice or tô (water and grain-flour "cream" not unlike grits, and most often also made with corn, but sometimes millet or sorghum.) [I got to try gourmet igname/yam/ñame tô, which is not bad at all, and much healthier.] As a result of a protein and vitamin deficient diet, kids often show signs of malnutrition. Beans, peanuts, tomatoes, and a great variety of other foods like these grow in every garden. Most health volunteers have as much of a background in that as I do in business. Truly, what the Burkinabé need is just someone with knowledge to walk around and teach them common sense and dispel ignorance. The word they use for this is sensibilisation. I have taken part in at least two official ones: One over the radio, and one at my house. The one over the radio was fun. I finally got to do what they never let me do in Afghanistan: Sing to the target audience about diarrhea. I also spoke as "village woman #2". All in French. I will supposedly get audio files of this, which already played on the air. When I get them, I will pass them on to you for your enjoyment, and benefit. Remember, pour eviter la diarrhée, lave tes mains! My other sensibilisation was about mud stoves. You all saw the pictures of the kitchen at my house. The mud stove is basically a more efficient version. A wall built around the fire to concentrate heat, protect against wind, and overall reduce wood consumption (which my family buys). So this morning I was helping mix 4 parts clay, with one part water, one part hay, and one part manure. Yes! Join the Peace Corps today, and you too can play with poo! At least they are washing their hands before handling food pretty much every time I take notice (remember, no running water, and they eat everything with their hands) and meat is cooked fully everywhere here (unlike in Rumania, where I never got a fully cooked piece of chicken anywhere). Flies are a problem, and I am working on recreating some nifty fly catchers I saw in Qatar. If I succeed in making them work, I will pitch the idea to local vendors to make and sell (I can't profit, of course). The vast majority of goods for sale here seems to be made here, or somewhere not too far here in West Africa. There are many notable imports, like Laughing Cow cheese, and Guinness (Guinness Malta is also available). Local beer is pretty good, and it is spoiling me: Twice the size of an American beer, more alcoholic, and only a dollar. Can't afford to get wasted, of course (and after drinking a bottle of "sangría" that tasted like fruity Mannischewitz, plus a couple of beers, I am going to watch what I put into my system from now on... and if you must ask why I drank that, the simple answer: it was cold). The weather is getting cooler. Roughly 80° in my room right now. My host parents are now dressing up at night, with jackets even. Occasionally a Burkinabé will don a puffy winter jacket if the temperature dips to like 83° during the day. My family is convinced that they can never visit Europe because the cold will kill them immediately. Stuff runs out. My mother in Puerto Rico once commented how people on Vieques island will work only enough to make the little bit of money necessary to get by, then close shop for the rest of the week. Laziness like that is not very different here. More remarkable however, is when stuff simply "runs out". On more than one occasion, I have had to get up and walk to another restaurant, because they "ran out of food" at the very beginning of lunch hour. In many cases, I believe this really means that the chef ate lunch early, and is now in 'repos' or siesta (The Burkinabé enjoy a 3 hour lunch break, and some do not bother to go back to work afterwards.) Locally made stuff is often crappy. I spent a good ten minutes trying to cut a toenail yesterday with a nail clipper I bought here. I gave up. I bought a 'Much Bazooka' power adapter and extension cord here. It fell from a height of two feet. It no longer works. My 'Super Force' fan is working well still, I pray it survives transport to Ouagadougou. On the 22nd I move back to ECLA (Être comme les autres, some kind of local NGO that works with everybody, kind of like ASUDEC that I will be working with), where our training is based here in Ouahigouya. We stayed there for a couple of nights before moving in with our host families. I believe we will go to ECLA, swear in, then travel to our sites for our étude period of two months, then back here for a few more weeks of training, then back to our sites. I have to find out how this is affecting our term of service, since we are swearing in a little earlier. One thing I really like about the Peace Corps is that we have an absurdly small amount of money, so great care is taken to eliminate bullshit and make sure our training is relevant, and our trainers and schedule are very flexible, and dependant on our feedback. If the US Government gave the Peace Corps a visible fraction of the money the Army gets, we would pretty much automatically lose freedom and flexibility with our funds. Oh well. It seems paradoxical. I do feel as well taken care of as when I was with the Army; if a volunteer gets sick, the treatment and handling is the same (one criterium for selecting a work and training site is that there has to be a field or something that makes a medevac possible), and they take care to make sure I get fed three meals a day. And if I request any kind of medical item, I will get it (including a packet of orange flavored Gatorade, interestingly enough. Hydration is important, and I request these daily). And they move all my stuff to my site for me, so buying my furniture here in training is recommended. But how am I getting to my site? By BUS! The volunteers working in the bush have it worse. A group of health trainees were in a bush taxi van when it tipped over. None of the trainees were hurt, and we all enjoyed hearing their story about the lady that got out of the bus first, after stepping on peoples heads to get out of a window, only to pop her head back in to demand that someone hand her her phone. I haven't had so much exitement... I tumbled off my bike once when a car nearly hit me, and I spent a couple of hours the other day fixing my first flat tire. After patching seven holes, I was given a new tube. Thorns are the biking PCVs' mortal enemy. Well, not really mortal, but health PCVs already living in village are sick of fixing flats. My family quickly grabbed my flat and refashioned it into a water hose for the metal drum that they wheel to the local well for water. Pretty much nothing goes to waste here, and we fat, rich westerners have to watch what we do with our garbage. Female volunteers have already seen kids running around with tampon applicators in their mouths. I have to bring my laptop to the cybercafé and continue to download Ouagadougou in Google earth. I ate caterpillars last night. It is a delicacy in the southwest here. I don't need to eat them again. I have not received any physical mail yet, though to my understanding, some is on the way. It's taking its sweet time. And an ATM ate my card, just because. I won't be able to ask any bank about it for a while though, not until I get back to Ouaga. I did not feel like asking the guard about it at the time (Actually stands at the ready with a shotgun while you are standing on his red tiles getting your money). I hate automation sometimes. But I got paid $118 for the next two weeks today, so all is good =D More later, René ------------------------------------------ Notes: To call me: dial direct 011 226 76 18 50 77, but calling cards are way cheaper. 226 is the country code, and everything after it is my personal cell phone number. To mail me: AIR MAIL Rene A. Prieto Polymeris Corps De La Paix Americain 01 BP 6031 Ouagadougou 01 Burkina Faso (West Africa) (Air Mail or better only, anything sent surface mail will never arrive) To get added to this mailing list if someone forwarded this to you: Just let me know - To get removed from this mailing list: same To reply, ask questions, or communicate in general: Same. Due to my current salary of $3 a day, I can't afford the $1 per hour Internet very often, and the connection is slow, so I may answer questions in the general mail rather than reply individually, but I am always looking forward to reading your messages. I'm sure when I get to my site, I will be able to respond and mail more individually.
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