Since getting back from my Peace Corps service in Burkina Faso, many people have asked me how they can offer some contribution the the people of Burkina, knowing it will have a direct, personal, and meaningful effect. This is your opportunity:

As many of you may know, I have had the incredible privilege of knowing Abibata Sanogo, from the village of Tin. From the beginning of our friendship, she stood out to me as exceptional. She has been met at every stage of her life by roadblocks that would defeat the average person- constant bouts of malaria, pressure to marry since age 15, and extremely limited financial resources. Despite all this, she has always seen the value of education and persevered in a way that very few young women from rural Burkina do. She passed the exam that thousands of students take per year, gaining a coveted spot at the national university in Ouagadougou.

Her parents couldn't afford to pay her tuition, and frankly saw little point in educating a woman to that level. I was so grateful to be able to give a relatively small amount of money to fund her entire first year at University. Despite the challenges of adjusting to life in the "big city" on her own, and the serious academic demands of University, Abi passed her first year with impressive marks. She is spending her summer taking a basic computer course, and working to save money for this coming year. I can't express how proud I am of her or how much admiration I have for what she has accomplished.

Unfortunately, as a new grad student, I have very little of my own to pay for Abi's expenses in the coming year. To cover her tuition, books, room, and board for an entire year costs around $500. About 1% of the cost of a year at Dartmouth, to put that in perspective. I've been saving to send her what I can, but if any of you are willing to send even just $10, it will go a long way in helping this exceptional young woman. Burkina is one of the poorest countries in the world, and Abi is one of those young people that will undoubtably play a role in bettering her nation and people. But only if she is given a chance.

If anyone is willing to help, please send a check to me at the address below. I apologize that I don't have an easier way to donate, but please rest assured that every cent will go towards Abi's education, and I'll keep everyone updated on her progress who is interested. Thank you all so much for reading this far and ANYTHING you can give is hugely appreciated. Let me know if you have any questions.

Morgan Cole7 East 27th StBaltimore, MD 21218

Things I Will Miss About Burkina:

1- My host family and friends in Tin- There is no way I can really describe what a difference it made in my two years here to have my host family and the friends I've made in Tin. They look out for me, answer my silly questions, bravely try American meals I cook, share what little they have with me, and have made my time here so much more than just a job.

2- My fellow volunteers- Whether it's getting together in Ouaga or Bobo, traveling to new places, celebrating a birthday, or venting about some recent frustration, having the friendship and support of other volunteers, a few in particular, has been invaluable to me here. I know we'll keep in touch after we all go our separate ways in America, but being here together for two years has been an incomparable experience.

3- Everyday Friendliness- You pass someone on the street here, you say hello. You walk into a store, you ask how the person behind the counter is doing. You meet someone new, you inquire if there family is well. In America, you awkwardly avoid eye contact, or often get right to the point without pleasantries if some sort of interaction is necessary. I'll miss the Burkina version.

4- Slower pace of life- I've had way more opportunities to relax, reflect, read for pleasure, and just think, than I've ever had in my life. I rarely find myself in a hurry, which seems to be nearly constantly the case in the states.

5- Bathing outside- I never I thought I'd say this, but I'll miss taking bucket baths in my little shower structure, looking up at the stars or a beautiful sunrise

6- Respect for Age- Something I think we're missing in American culture, having respect for one's elders is of utmost importance, and by not showing this respect, I think we miss out on a chance to learn from those more experienced then us. Frankly, anyone who has had 10 kids and worked incredibly hard everyday of their adult life deserves to be shown some respect by someone like me

7- Learning/Experiencing something new everyday- Granted, this is possible in the States too, but it's nearly unavoidable here in Burkina, where I'm constantly hearing a new local legend, spotting an animal I've never seen before, or exploring some aspect of the culture I was previously unaware of.

8- Appreciation of small luxuries- A scoop of ice cream, a functioning fan, or a good book. Any of those things is seriously just about all it takes make my day a good one. I know that the novelty of such things and my appreciation of them will probably wear off once I've been back in America a while, but I'm going to make an effort not to take things for granted quite as much.

9- Safety- Yes, there is crime in Burkina, but particularly while in village, concerns about any sort of violent crime are almost non-existant. refreshing. At any time, I know that my host family and friends are looking out for me, and even strangers will step in and help if it's needed.

10- Not having to dress up, put on make-up, or spend any money on my appearance- Ok, so this is a dangerous one, as I'm afraid I may continue the habit of questionable hygiene, non-existent hair and skin care, and balking at paying more than 4$ for an article of clothing when I leave Burkina. However, it's been a wonderful break from superficiality and worry about one's appearance. In my world, upgrading from flip-flops to chacos qualifies as "getting pretty."

Things I Will Not Miss about Burkina:

1- Transport: Very few things in Burkina ever run smoothly, transportation perhaps most of all. Roads are terrible, vehicles break down constantly, and nearly every time, there are mosre tickets sold than seats available, resulting in scenes like this one, with people basically stampeding to get on the bus, and going so far as to climb in the windows to get a spot. There's also a high likelihood that you will end up with a peeing baby on your lap, or a squawking chicken under your seat. Overall, I will be happy to get back to the land of personal cars and relatively comfortable public transportation.

2- All eyes on me: I've spent the past two years of my life constantly being stared at, analyzed, questioned and just generally being the center of attention, which is not something that I enjoy most of the time. It will be a massive relief to be able to walk down the street without having a dozen people try to get my attention, sell me something, or just generally not have people watching my every move. See #3 on the next list.

3- Sexism/Patriarchy: I am SO sick of hearing men talk about their multiple extra-marital affairs as if it's completely acceptable, having men constantly question my intelligence or ability solely because of my gender, and seeing women in marriages that are anything but a partnership. I know that sexism exists in America as well, but until coming to Burkina, it has never affected my life on a daily basis nearly so much.

4- Corruption

5- My Latrine: this structure has been through a lot in two years...falling over, getting rebuilt, repaired, and falling down again. This photo is the pile of rubble that was my latrine for a few days before it was rebuilt the second time around.

6- Lines, or lack thereof: Orderly and efficient lines are not something that exist in Burkina. In order to get a spot on the bus, service at a store, or the attention of a cashier, you have to stick out those elbows and be prepared to not only protect your spot in the non-existant line, but to shove your way to the front before the people behind you do.

7- 110 degree days, with humidity

8- having pimples, weight gain, and general tired appearance constantly and matter-of-factly pointed out to me

9- Lack of directness: Coming from an American perspective, where people are generally very straight forward and to the point, it gets tiring when here in Burkina, any request or conversation requires a 15 minute introduction to the subject before the person finally gets to the point. Or don't, in some cases.... I'll sometimes get to the end of a conversation with someone, than realize I still have no clue what their point was, or what they were asking for. Frustrating.

10- Malaria and Typhoid- A couple months back I got a wee bit sick, and then a lot sick. It turned out to be both malaria and typhoid fever. After two nights in the hospital and a week in the Peace Corps infirmary, multiple IV bags, and many worried calls from Mom, I was feeling better and back on my feet. Unfortunately, the vast majority of people in areas in which malaria is endemic do not have anywhere close to the same medical and preventative resources I did, and in Burkina alone, nearly 12,000 people die each year from the disease.

Things I'm Excited For In the United States:

1- Ease of Communication- The idea of being able to just pick up a phone or sit down at my computer to be in touch with my family and friends is infinitely appealing. For the past two years, I've had to trek over to my special "reception spot" next to my neighbors hut and hold up my phone for a few minutes, until I heard that wonderful little ring signaling that a text has come through. My other option for keeping in touch is to hop on my bike and bike uphill for about an hour to the nearest town, where the internet connection at the cyber cafe may or may not be working, supposedly depending on the weather that day. Constant cell phone reception and easy internet access will be a welcome change.

2- Toilets/Showers/Baths: this one should be pretty obvious...

3- Anonymity: It will be refreshing to once again be just another person in a crowd when I want to be, and not always the center or attention or a target for marriage proposals, scams, or tourist "guides"

4- Privacy: Living in a small village where everyone knows you and your business is both a blessing and a curse. The sense of community and safety is wonderful, but it's also a culture where people think it's incredibly weird if I want to spend an afternoon by myself, reading quietly alone in my house. If I make the mistake of trying to do that, I'll most likely be interrupted every 15 minutes or so by an inquisitive neighbor knocking at my door, or small children peering in my window.

5- FAMILY/FRIENDS: Again, this one should be pretty obvious. Even with the people with whom I've kept in pretty constant touch, it's been difficult being so far away for so long. At times it was hard to even comprehend that everyone's life is still going on back in the States during my time here, because I feel so removed from it. But new babies have been born, jobs changed, and houses built among my family and friends since my departure, and I'm excited to catch up with everyone again and be present in their lives.

6- Cheese/food in general: Ah, cheddar, how I've missed you!

7- AC/Indoor Heating: Having an option other than removing clothing or fanning one's self with a book to combat the temperature will be wonderful. My parents may chastise me for cranking up the thermostat every 5 minutes when I get home, but I'm just excited to even have that choice!

8- Customer Service: waiters that actually refill your water glass and ask how the meal is? products that are returnable if they break immediately after you buy them? Service workers of any kind who are actually interested in helping you?? I've missed all these things for two years and will be happy to get back to them.

9- Modern Conveniences (phones, electricity, plumbing, refrigeration)

10- Efficiency!: One thing that the American people and institutions are good at is setting a goal, laying out a plan, and accomplishing it within a reasonable amount of time. Yes, there's unnecessary bureauocracy and delays sometimes, but nothing compared to in Burkina.

It is with both joy and sadness that I request that no more packages be sent to me here in Burkina... there's a good chance they wouldn't arrive before my departure, and I've stockpiled some treats to ration myself for these last few months!

I'm writing this while sitting at my little table in my house in Tin. I'm wearing earplugs to lessen the headache-inducing pounding of the rain of my tin roof, which at the moment feels a little like living inside a large drum while thousands of hands bang on it with all their might with no purpose other than to drive me insane. Having just finished my 13th game of solitaire by lantern-light, I've decided that a better use of my time would be to write up a blog entry to be typed up next time I'm in Bobo with computer access. Rainy evenings like this in village can be a bit slow, as the rain is loud enough to prevent conversation and everyone is holed up in their houses waiting it out. One can only play so many games of solitaire...

Luckily, the rains are coming less frequently now and will stop altogether around the end of the month. This is both good news and bad for me. Good because I'm sick of being a hermit in my house, biking through inches of mud, and planning meetings, only to have no one show up because "it really like like it might rain." Bad news because sometimes rain is a great excuse to curl up in bed with a book and not be judged by everyone in the village (wanting some alone time is a foreign concept here), and because the end of rainy season signals the return of 100+ degree weather.

Though most volunteers would say that the entirety of their service is an emotional roller-coaster with constant high and low periods, the past few months have been especially so for me. May and June were both fairly busy work-wise, and the resulting feeling of productivity was rewarding in itself. Between overseeing our clinic repairs, planning and executing our girl's camp, and making great progress with my theater troupe, I was feeling like a "good volunteer," and pretty content at site in general. I was doing the sort of work that I came here to do, enjoying my friends and host family in village, and making a hopefully making a small positive difference in the community.

July, however, was difficult for several reasons. My neighbor had been suffering from AIDS since about a year ago, and though he had made some progress at first, getting his medications under control and putting on some weight, things took a downhill turn around April. He grew frustrated with everything: his medical regime, the stigma he faced, and his ongoing daily struggles physically. His wife is not in the picture and lives in another country, so his two children (Sali and Seydou, age 4 and 6) spend a lot of time in my courtyard, playing with my host siblings and raiding my toy stash, so I'd become particularly invested in the situation. With his mounting frustrations, his health began to deteriorate rapidly. After one particularly pain-filled day, he said "I'm just so tired, I'm ready to go." That night, woke several times in the night to the sound of his moans and cries of pain in the house next door, and at around 7 in the morning, he passed away. The funeral was heartbreaking, especially watching his older brothers who had outlived him carry his body through the courtyard on the way to burial. All us women stood up in respect as they passed, as women are traditionally not permitted at the actual burial. Then one by one, the women started wailing, and his two kids stood alone and ragged for a moment, sobbing inconsolably now that they finally realized that their father was really gone.

I've seen a lot more death since coming to Burkina than I was ever exposed to in the States, which has in some ways made it less shocking to me, but seeing those kids lose their father to such a senseless and preventable disease was particularly hard. Needless to say, that was a difficult time, for myself and more so for my host family and friends here in Tin.

July was also the final stage of a 4-month national polio vaccination campaign, and by month 4 of walking door to door throughout the village and vaccinating any kid we could get our hands on, I was pretty sick of it. Even romantically reminding yourself that you're helping eradicate an awful disease, saving babies, and all that noble altruistic stuff doesn't make the 110 degree sun any less hot or your headache from screaming children go away.

August was a high point, as my frend Tovah came to visit, bearing gifts of American food and news from home. She was a great guest, up for the challenge of traveling in Burkina and armed with a spiffy new camera and an bottomless bag of precautionary medical supplies. Luckily, she made good use of the camera but was able to go without most of the medical supplies, leaving them behind for my clinic staff to use. Unfortunately, Burkina caught up with her the last day with some sort of stomach bug, but other than that, the visit was wonderful.

So now it's september, and our Close-of-Service conference is in just a few days, after which I'll return to Tin for a couple more months to wrap up my work here. After that, it's home to the USA! All plans after my arrival in America are a little hazy until next fall, when I will hopefully be starting grad school. If anyone has any suggestions/job offers for that interim period, feel free to let me know!

And signing off, a picture of chubby baby Bintou!

As I write this entry, I'm curled up in a huge leather chair, in the marble-tiled, gold-gilted, generally extravagant lobby of a hotel in Ouagadougou, the capital of Burkina. This morning's breakfast was a buffet of made-to-order omelettes, fresh fruit, unlimited kinds of breads, rolls and pastries, and even american cereal in fancy serving platters. I honestly had no idea that such an oasis of luxury existed in this country, especially since frankly all it takes to impress me these days is air conditioning and a semi-comfortable mattress. But thanks to the incredible generosity of my friend Lori and her Mom (who's here from America visiting Lori) I'm learning that even in Burkina, one can find a 5-star hotel.

The timing of our stay here is especially ironic though; the city of Ouaga experienced more rain in 10 hours yesterday than in the months of June and August combined, a record not seen since 1919. The result has been major flooding, and Lori, her Mom, and I were actually barely able to make it into the city before Peace Corps declared a state of emergency and forbid volunteers from traveling to Ouaga at all. Now that we're here, we're mostly confined to the hotel for our safety, so I've got plenty of time to write about it. The extreme irony is the juxtaposition of our current lodgings and the extreme poverty just around the corner, which even during the best of times is dire, and with the devastation of the flooding, is an even more extreme contrast. Several people died in the flooding yesterday, and thousands are left homeless as their mud walls and houses were washed away, and here I am contemplating whether my next move should be to the pool or restaurant.

It's hard sometimes to find the right limit, or draw a line of how much to give, or what privileges to deny myself in order to help the people around me and do what I can to help give them a small fraction of opportunities that I've been blessed enough to have in my own life. When I take a weekend away from my village now and then to meet up with other volunteers, use the internet, call home, etc, I often find myself feeling guilty. I'll sometimes treat myself to a nice dinner, which will cost $8 or so, money that could feed my entire host family for a week. Is that wrong? Should I feel guilty about it? I really don't have an answer, but it's a question that comes up frequently for me.

I'm no more hardworking, intelligent or inherently good than many of the people here, yet by chance of birth I have privileges and resources that 99.9% of them will never experience. The opportunity for a good education, health care, international travel, and material possessions are all mine for no reason other than the fact that I was born in the United States to parents who could afford to provide me with those things.

I guess the lesson somewhere in here for me has been that I have to strike a balance that I'm comfortable with and go with that. I'm not going to give away all my money and material goods to those less fortunate than myself and live at poverty level in order to do so, but it also doesn't feel right to not spread around the benefits of my own privilege a bit to those who are clearly deserving but haven't had the same opportunities. So, I'll help my friend in Tin pay for her University tuition and be proud of her for being the first person in her family to ever go past high school, and then go treat myself to ice cream next time I'm in the city. I'll spend a month in village living in my little house and working in the community, then not beat myself up about springing for a decent hotel when I leave for a weekend. I think the most important thing is for to be grateful for the opportunities that I've had in my life, and to not take it for granted or tell myself that I'm somehow entitled to it any more than those living in Tin, Burkina Faso are. It's easy to see how blessed I've been in my life when surrounded by such poverty here every single day, it'll be important for me to remain aware of it once I'm back in America.

This entire internal debate probably is somewhat naive, as poverty is everywhere in the world and everything is relative, but it's something that has been much more apparent to me in the past two years due to my lifestyle here, and I thought I'd share my thoughts with everyone, since it's been so long since my last entry. On that note, I hope you're all doing well and enjoying the summer, and I'll have news soon on my return date to the United States!

The rainy season here in Burkina lasts from around June to August, and is often slow for health volunteers, due to the difficulty in mobilizing villagers for activities. Most people in rural villages are obligated to spend the majority of their time working in the fields once the rains start, either planting, tending, or harvesting the crops which are their main source of sustenance and income. This leads to volunteers with a lot of time on their hands and few community members with the time or energy to help plan or implement projects. One solution that many volunteers choose is to run a summer camp, often for girls, as somewhat time-consuming, but ultimately rewarding project during the summer months. This year, My two volunteer friends in nearby villages, Lindsey and Lori, decided to take 5 girls from each of our sites and plan a joint camp in our district capital, Orodara.

Burkina's education system is clearly challenged, with a shortage of qualified teachers and schools, and an overall literacy rate in the country of just 13%. In addition to this, many girls grow up without any encouragement or support towards further educational goals or fulfilling roles other than the traditional ones of mother and wife. While these roles are clearly important, and there is much for young women to continue to learn from their elders in a non-academic setting, it is an unfortunate reality that 80% of Burkinabe girls do not even finish primary school, are usually extremely hesitant to step into leadership roles or speak freely in classroom settings, and often succumb to sexual pressure from men and end up pregnant or in an early marriage in their mid teens, thus dropping out of school and halting their education for good.

Girl's camps are meant to make a small step in empowering young Burkinabe girls and women to see their own self-worth and their potential, both academically, professionally, and as contributing members of their community. Our daily activities included discussions of goal-setting and action plans, female role models, and good communication skills. Some of these may seem like fairly basic concepts, but turned out to be challenging to discuss at times. It was amazing to see the girls' progress over the two weeks, girls that started out literally unable to stand up and answer a simple question in front of the group without verging on tears became much more comfortable and confident as the time went on, unafraid to speak up when they didn't understand something, or to voice their opinions on a topic.

We were lucky to have several great visitors who helped us with the camp, including those from a local women's association in which the members work together for a variety of income-generating activities, as well as the midwives from each of our three communities, a former Peace Corps language tutor who actually comes from Orodara, and the head of the local radio station, who helped the girls to record a broadcast on their experiences during the camp. The midwives helped with a women's health day, when we discussed the topics of puberty, family planning, IST's, and HIV/AIDS with the girls.

Of course, there were many challenges during the process of planning and running the camp, from bickering between the girls and to the challenge of doing a condom demonstration without the entire room dissolving into giggles, and the many many cultual differences between our style of teaching and group interaction and that of the Burkinabe's. But overall it was a great project and I think all three of us volunteers were proud of ourselves and our girls that participated. The girls themselves danced up a storm and stuffed themselves with rice during our final day's ceremony, and sang a song they composed for the parents and visitors who came to celebrate with us. Enjoy the pics below, and I hope everyone at home is enjoying the summer!

On a somewhat related topic, the most recent good news from my village over here is that my friend Abibata just passed the test that allows her to go to University in the fall, a huge feat for a young woman (or man, very few people pass this), and will be starting in the fall at the university in Ouagadougou!

Walking back to the Diongolo high school, where we held the camp

All the girls with their certificates on the last day

Sali recording her portion of the radio show

Lori leading the girls in a game

Learning how to make liquid soap as an income-generating activity

Abbas, pouting after his haircut

Lori, Lindsey and I after a guest appearance with an English club at the high school in Orodara

It is most definitely mango season! These are all waiting to be loaded into a huge truck which will come and pay kids to load it up using baskets, and then the mangos are shipped off to various destinations. I'm trying to eat as many as possible now, knowing that I wont be seeing many in Vermont after my service here.

Bakary (the son of my neighbor friend Sinaly) and his lovely new wife at their wedding. It happened to be on my birthday, which made for a fun party.

Fishermans' boats and netting at Cape Coast in Ghana

Matt, Lindsey, and I in Ghana attempting to get some last minute studying done before going into the testing center for the GRE. Apparently I was worried, Lindsey was concerned, and Matt blissfully confident.

Me, Katherine, Matt, Stephanie, and Linda, who all shared a host village during training and have all made it this far!

I realize I've been neglectful in my blogging/emailing duties lately, so I thought I should just let everyone know I'm still alive and well, albeit tired and sweaty most of the time. Nothing much new going on here, I'm trying to get in as much studying as possible since I'll be taking the GREs in just a few weeks, but studying in village is a little tricky. Distractions include sweat dripping onto my book, children climbing over my lap, and goats storming my courtyard. But other than that, life is continuing as usual, making very slow progress on our CREN garden and now in the planning stages of CSPS (health clinic) repairs, which are much needed. My daily work at the CSPS continues as usual, and we recently got two new staff members there, including a young midwife and assistant nurse. Both have just finished their training and this is their first job. It's nice to have more company and a lighter workload for both myself and my head nurse at the clinic. Before their arrival, there was a period when it was just the two of us, and several women ended up being forced to deliver their babies alone and unassisted at the clinic since both my head nurse and I were away at trainings.

I've been traveling outside of my site quite a bit lately between Mom and Ben visiting, the FESPACO film festival in Ouaga, and then a recent party to send off the volunteers who are finishing up their service soon. The traveling back and forth between Tin and Ouaga is tiring and expensive, but it's always nice to see other volunteers from outside of the Bobo region. Despite that, I'll be glad when I can settle back into my regular routine in Tin and spend a solid amount of time "sans voyager."

Mom and Ben's trip was wonderful, though logistically tricky with the typical Burkina issues of transportation, language barriers, and questionable schedules. But they got a chance to see Ouaga, Bobo, and Tin, as well as spending a night in the town of Boromo, where we tracked down some elephants with the help of a guide. Once Mom figures out how to work her new camera I hope to get some of her pictures uploaded.

After 10 days here in Burkina, they whisked me away to Morocco for a week, and as Ben said "It's a good thing we did Burkina first and Morocco second and not the other way around." Though Burkina is always an interesting adventure, the transition to the comparatively luxurious and rich Morocco was startling. There is certainly poverty there, and it's far from the USA in terms of development, Burkina and Morocco seems worlds apart. We spent three days at a lovely guesthouse in Marrakech, navigating the labyrinth of streets and colorful local markets, and eating lots of delicious food. Highlights included a great cooking lesson and subsequent meal, and getting a well-guided tour of the markets and shops.

Spices for sale in the Marrakech souks (marketplaces)

Ben preparing to eat his self-cooked Moroccan meal

Mom perusing the Berber carpet options

After Marrakech, we ventured to the High Atlas Mountain region, where we stayed in a traditional Berber guesthouse high in the mountains at the base of Toukbal, the second-highest peak in Africa. Mom took advantage of the fresh air and trekking paths and did an admirable amount of hiking, while Ben and I relaxed at the house a read books by the fire. Going from hot dusty Burkina to hail in the Moroccan mountains was a bit of a shock for my body, but the beautiful location and heavy wool sweaters eased the transition.

The view from my window in the Atlas Mountains

Making our way down the mountain with the assistance of a sturdy mule

I've been back in Burkina for a while now, and am spending most of my time outside of work getting ready for the GREs, though as I mentioned before, I'm afraid I'm not studying very effectively. I guess we'll find out come April 8th, when I'll be taking the test in Ghana. Several other volunteers and myself are going together, and afterwards we'll spend a few days relaxing in Accra before heading back to Burkina, just in time for rainy season to get started and take the edge off this heat (hopefully).

As always, my love to everyone at home, I appreciate the continuing letters and packages and hope everyone is doing well!

My past few months here have been fairly busy, between various holidays, my trip home to the States, the arrival of the new volunteers, and hitting the one-year mark of my service. So as not to get ahead of myself, I’ll try to recap the major things in order. Look for a more work-related update to come in the next month or so. I do more than just celebrate holidays here, I swear.

America!!

In October I had the pleasure of coming home to America for 3 weeks, a wonderful break from Burkina and a chance to see family and friends. I got a lot of questions from everyone, the most common of which was undoubtedly “How’s Africa?” which I got so sick of hearing the instead of replying what I was thinking (“I have no idea how the continent is doing, though I’ve been doing well in Burkina Faso”) I eventually started replying simply “It’s hot.” Generally if people had asked the question to begin with they were satisfied with that response.

A lot of people also inquired if it was “weird to be back,” which was a much more complicated issue. On one hand, as soon as I stepped off the plane I felt a sense of relief and homecoming, and at times I could almost feel as if I had never left. In fact, it was almost odd to see that many things were exactly as they were a year ago before leaving; it was as if I had expected the world to change, since my experience of the past 12 months has been so different. However, there was certainly a level of culture shock, mostly being a little overwhelmed by the constant rush and impersonality of things. In my village here you’re considered incredibly rude if you don’t greet people that you pass on the road, while in NYC they’d just think you’re incredibly weird and avoid eye contact.

I also found myself feeling impatient, perhaps unfairly, with people’s complaints and concerns. Here it’s never sure that you’ll have enough money to pay for your child’s elementary school education, or their visit to the doctor if they get malaria, or even basic necessities like food. There is a 42 year old woman in Tin who recently came into the clinic pregnant with her 12th child, only 5 of which are still living, and no knowledge of birth control and limited choice in the matter once we explained it to her, since it is the husband who decides those matters. Knowing that its only the simple chance of birth that my life is not like that makes it difficult for me to empathize with a lot of people’s concerns over money, jobs, relationships, etc. back home. I know that’s somewhat unfair and cliché, along the lines of “don’t complain, there’s children starving in Africa” but it’s difficult to feel as sympathetic towards relatively privileged people after some of the hardships that we see daily here. Not to say that I myself don’t and never will complain about petty things, but I guess it’s just easier to step back now and try to put things into the larger perspective when I’m stressed out about anything.

Overall, my trip home was wonderful. It was a great chance to visit friends in NYC, at Dartmouth Homecoming, in VT, and Boston. I was lucky to be able to see so many friends and family, eat lots of delicious food, and enjoy cool temperatures and comfortable beds. A big thank-you to everyone for making it such a good visit, especially my family and lovely hosts in NYC and Boston!

Ramadan

Ramadan is one of the largest Muslim holidays, and the end of a month of fasting is marked by a day of celebration and feasting. It’s an opportunity for everyone in village to get dressed up in their nicest clothes, visit their family and friends, and eat something other than To. I took some pictures this year, since everyone looked so nice and the kids are relatively clean for once. This is my host mother and my two little brothers, all decked out in their new clothes.

Election Day

I’m not sure if this qualifies as an official holiday, but we certainly celebrated it here. I arrived back in Burkina from my trip to the States on the 4th, and promptly made my way to the U.S. embassy rec center with a group of volunteers to watch the election results come in. At 5:30am, Obama was declared the winner, and we all made our sleepy way home in the dawn of Ouagadougou, exhausted but thrilled. The next day was incredible, any time a Burkinabe would discover I was American they’d nearly shriek with excitement and want to shake my hand over and over, and even more so when I expressed my support for his presidency. It was such a wonderful feeling to see the excitement and hope all around the country, among Americans and Burkinabe alike.

Thanksgiving

For this classic American holiday, I was helping train the new group of volunteers who arrived in Burkina in October. I would say the highlight was the goat that they bought and fattened up for a couple weeks, before naming it “Turkery” and slaughtering it on the big day. Yummy!

Christmas

Christmas in Burkina is a little bizarre, and it can be a little difficult to get into the proper spirit. However, with the help of lots of Christmas music, copious amounts of food, and homemade stockings, we were able to have a pretty good time. A big group of volunteers got together in Bobo and went all out with decorations and delicacies (thank you Betty Crocker) from America. All in all, a good celebration. Here’s the group of girls from my training group and I, after doing a little present exchange.

New Year’s

Last year, Lori and Lindsey and I decided to spend our New Year’s in Bobo with our head nurses from the clinic and their respective wives. After an evening at a rather expensive and snooty club (who knew such things existed in Burkina Faso), we pled exhaustion and found a cab to take us home. We then made a spur of the moment decision and asked our taxi driver to bring us to a fun spot to continue celebrating the new year. He proceeded to drive us to Ocean Atlantic, a local spot that was packed with normal people and good music. It turns out our taximan is a riot, and hung out with us for the rest of the evening, then driving us home at the end of the evening free of charge. Due to an unfortunate twist of fate, we then lost the phone number that he had given us in case we wanted his services again.

364 days later, Lindsey and Lori and I, along our friend Linda, found ourselves once again arriving in Bobo to celebrate the New Year. As we unloaded our bags and bikes from the bus, we heard a shout of recognition behind us, and turned to see our long-last taxi man, whose path we had not crossed in the past year. He gave us a free ride to the Peace Corps house with all our stuff, and arranged to come back the next evening to act as our New Year’s Eve host/guide/driver once again.

So, on New Year’s eve we once again found ourselves ushered around downtown Bobo by Lassina the Taximan, who brought us a gift of orange soda, danced up a storm with us at Ocean Atlantic, helped fend off over-excited male party-goers, and introduced us to his girlfriend whom he affectionately described as “the fat one” and declared his devotion to her. All in all, an excellent way to bring in the New Year. The picture is myself in my incredibly tacky shirt from the marche and Lassina, our ridiculous taxi man.

Happy holidays to everyone in America!!

p.s. for those of you who sent me packages, a big thank-you, and don't worry that they haven't arrived yet, the postal system apparently takes a lot longer this time of year...

The Wonderful World of Transportation

People at home often ask me how I get from place to place, whether I've had a chance to travel around Burkina and other nearby countries, and how far I am from things like telephones and real toilets. Transportation is one of the more varied aspects of life here in Burkina Faso, one that I deal with frequently, so I thought I'd use a blog entry to give those of you at home a glimpse of how we get around here…First and foremost is the most obvious method: your own two feet. No one in villages owns a car, very few have motorcycles, and there is often only one bike per family. So, that means if Dad rode the bike to the fields for the day, and Mom has to get to the market 10 miles away to sell the veggies she grew, she’s going to be walking. And because most women have a small child almost all the time (family planning is a little slow in catching on), Mom will usually have a kid strapped to her back, with her load of stuff balanced on her head for the duration of the walk.

After walking, the most common way to get around is by bike, but don’t let this conjure up images of spandex shorts and Lance Armstrong. I’m lucky to have a decent American bike, but for the Burkinabe, there are no helmets, one gear only, and almost never any brakes. Bikes are repaired over and over again by village mechanics, and often look like they’re about to collapse underneath the rider. This isn’t helped by the condition of the roads, which are pretty horrendous, during the rainy season in particular. Pushing one’s bike through deep mud and water, then riding it over what feels like a cobblestone street in the aftermath of an earthquake doesn’t do much for bike upkeep. Below is a picture of me on the road to my village, notice the multiple vehicles stuck in about 2 feet of mud behind me. After that is the makeshift mechanic’s “shop,” where you can stop and (attempt to) get your bike fixed when necessary.

Donkey carts are also an option, and often used to carry loads too large for a bike. Way too large….poor donkeys

Some families have a moto, which is either a motorcycle, or more often, a moped kind of thing. In the cities, this is how a lot of people get around. Unfortunately, the combination of bad roads, no helmets, and bad drivers means that more people are killed in accidents each year than malaria and AIDS combined. Scary. But don’t fret, Mom, I ride motos infrequently, and always wearing a huge white helmet that makes me look like a stormtrooper.

For longer trips, People take buses, which range from nicer greyhound-type buses to tiny vans packed with 4 people to each 2-person seat, screaming babies, and sometimes various animals. Here’s the inside of the vehicle I sometimes take to get to my site.

If there isn’t an official bus or van route to get some place, the final option is to catch a ride on top of a camion. Easier said than done. Camions are huge cargo trucks that transport animals, produce, and various other things. After the truck has been fully loaded, people clamber up the sides and perch on the very top, clinging to the sides for balance, about 12 feet from the ground. I did this once, and was fairly convinced I was going to die throughout the ride, where each bump threatened to send me flying off of my perch and onto the ground below. To give you an idea of what a camion looks like, see the picture below and then imagine it fully loaded up to the top, with about 20 people sitting on top of all the cargo, and along the sides of the truck. Here, the cargo happens to be mangoes, which are being loaded up in my village.

I tend to rely mostly on my trusty bike to get around, and avoid crowded buses whenever possible. The concept of forming a line to board the bus doesn’t exist here, and it turns into an awful free-for-all, with people shoving and elbowing to get a spot. For all the above reasons, I’m thinking that getting on the plane for my trip home is going to feel like luxuy accommodations. Speaking of which, I will be in NYC October 14-16/17, and then Vermont until November 3rd. I’d love to see as many people as possible, so anyone should feel free to give me a call if you want to witness the non-pasty version of Moco in person.

We, the Peace Corps volunteers in the Kenedougou region of Burkina Faso, need your help! We are working in affiliation with a local NGO called SOS Enfants to raise funds to distribute Mosquito Nets to orphans, vulnerable children, and pregnant women in our region. Not only are the mosquitoes here annoying, but their malaria affects at least one member of every household and kills hundreds of children per year. Please help us by donating: $5 per net, easy-to-do online steps, and tax deductable.

For more information, and to give, go to this link: http://www.againstmalaria.com/Fundraiser.aspx?FundRaiserID=4352

Tomorrow is the last day of the Hearth Model program I've been working on over the past weeks, so I thought I'd give everyone at home a quick look at what's going on with that. I've mentioned it before, but essentially I've been meeting each morning with a group of 12 mothers and their malnourished infants. We prepare an enriched porridge together, feed the kids, and then do some health education stuff. Topics have focused a lot on nutrition, and how to use cheap local ingredients to provide for their children. We also covered hygiene, childhood illnesses, family planning, and other applicable health issues, all of which are tied in together when it comes to malnutrition and general health. Particularly with food prices skyrocketing all over the world right now, it was answering a really large need in the community. Without further ado, pictures!

My ladies preparing the morning porridge. Seeing as it's mango season and a lot of the kids dont get nearly enough fruits and veggies, this porridge has fresh mangos, corn flour, and peanut powder. It was the babies' favorite and one mom even asked me if was ok for her to eat it too.

My neighbor Cory from a village nearby came and helped out for the day, resulting in lots of pictures of me looking a little peeved. And shiny, apparently (hey, its a long bike ride for me to get there).

Cute little Ibrahim. I've kind of forgotten what healthy fat babies look like, because so few here are well-nourished. Hopefully during my follow-up over the next couple months, I'll see kids like Ibrahim put on some weight and get some more energy. Tomorrow is the final weighing, so I'll be able to see how much progress was made during the past couple weeks. Several moms have already commented that their kids have bigger appetites now, more energy, and feel heavier when they lift them up, so that's encouraging.

Arrival back at home at the end of the morning. I took advantage of having Cory there to take a little family portrait, minus my host parents who were in the fields at the time. Baby Abbas (with weird makeup on that day), neighbor kid Brah who needs a new shirt, little bro Aziz and sister Safiatou. Big happy sweaty family.

This will be a short update (better one to come soon, I promise!), but I just wanted to post some pictures from a trip a few weeks ago. A bunch of volunteers got together in the town of Sindou, most famous for it's lovely peaks. This time, however, the big attraction for us was a huge barrage (man-made lake) in a nearby village. We biked out there, getting lost a couple times and eventually made our way to what seemed like a beautiful green oasis in the middle of Burkina. Enjoy the pictures! Finally, happy fathers day to my own Dad, Kevin, Papa, and Grandpa Phil! The barrage near Sindou, the closest thing to a beach that you can get here in Burkina.

Local fishermen out in wooden canoes to fish, and one was nice enough to take a few of us out for a mini-tour. He paddled while we bailed water...

The whole group

Mmmm...chicken

And by "games" I mean hot season and work. Same thing, really. For a little glimpse into my life recently, lets take a look at a recent journal entry of mine, dated Monday, April 21st:

"I have heat rash. Everywhere. It's unpleasant."

Hot season has arrived, and though I know many of you back home in the comforts of A/C and spring breezes may be thinking, "Come on, Morgan, it's Africa, what did you expect?"I assure you I have good reason to whine just a little bit. For example, I found myself experiencing some stomach cramps the other day, most likely the result of the questionable-looking meat I had eaten earlier at a neighbor's house (I've stopped asking what animal it is after the time I found out I was eating Bush Rat). Longing for a comfortable spot to lay down, I ventured into my house, setting up my cot in the cooler of the two rooms. After about 15 minutes of sweaty repose, I thought I could feel the heat stroke gaining on me so I gave in and went to sit outside, where the breeze keeps things slightly cooler. On my way out, I peeked at the thermostat I so rashly bought last month: 112 degrees. At almost 6pm. Welcome to Burkina. I took the picture below of myself (lame, I know) to commemorate the absolute sweatiness of the moment.

Work!

Luckily, I have some great projects to distract me from the heat. As a community health volunteer, there's a lot of freedom to decide what type of issues to target, depending on our own interests and the needs of our village. As a result, my first two projects are both related to malnutrition, which is a particularly large problem in the small, more remote surrounding villages that my health clinic serves. This is particularly frustrating for me to see each month at baby weighings, since the region in which I live is much more fertile and has more resources than most areas in the country, so even the poorest families should be able to provide food for their children. The disconnect lies in the lack of education regarding proper nutrition, and as a result, a large number or children are severely malnourished. In some parts of the country, nearly a quarter of all children under 5 years old suffer from acute malnutrition, which is an extremely high percentage.

So, working with the sole female member of my health committee, we're about to begin the process of getting trained, and then implementing a rehabilitation and education program for severely malnourished children and their mothers. Its a program which has had some success in other parts of West Africa, utilizing inexpensive local foods and collaborating with "model mothers" in the community who have healthy kids and are well-respected. I'm hoping it works out without too many glitches.

Secondly, the two health volunteers close to my site (Lori and Lindsey) and I are getting started on the planning stages of building a garden at the district hospital's CREN (center for the rehabilitation of malnourished children). When an infant is found to be severely malnourished in any of the villages in the district, they can come to stay at the CREN with their mother, where they're fed high-calorie diets and the mothers are educated on their child's nutritional needs. Most CRENs have a garden to provide much-needed vitamins and nutrients at low cost, but our CREN in Orodara doesn't have enough funding so we're attempting to help them out with planning, funding, and implementation. This could end up being more of a long-term goal, but again, I'm eager to see how it progresses.

Here's a picture of my own "model mother" in village, who is absolutely wonderful. Here we were sitting in my courtyard and my little sister Safiatu is getting her hair done and "reading" a magazine I gave her.

The Mysterious Missionaries

In addition to each of the two projects, I put in my time at the CSPS (health clinic) each day, assisting with prenatal consultations, weighing babies, and helping with monthly vaccinations. The rest of the time in village, I can be found reading , playing with my posse of little kids, visiting with neighbors and attempting to learn Siamou, or riding my bike to various locations. Cory, the health voluntee in the village of Serekeni, is my closest neighbor, and we've recently been trying to meet the ever-elusive Canadian missionaries who live in my village. The first time we located their house and prowled around, they had yet to return from a year-long trip back to Canada, so we had to be satisfied with a view of the house and yard alone. However, we marveled at the giant screened-in porch which is twice as big as my entire house, the huge water tank providing running water, and the solar panels for electricity. Then we were guiltily interrupted by the guard and made our exit. The second visit, we apparently just missed them by a few hours, they had gone to Orodara for the day. But their presence was evident by the newly-swept courtyard, car tire tracks, and various signs of habitation. After admiring the bouquet of flowers in a glass vase, complete with linen table cloth on the porch, we told the guard we'd try again another time and scampered off, visions of running water and good food flashing through our minds.

Excuses, Thank Yous

Due to the fact that sending one letter to the US costs as much as 8 meals at the local restaurant in Orodara (800 CFA), I've been bad about responding to all the wonderful letters and packages that I've received from home. Despite that, I want everyone to know, as always, how much it means to me to get mail, and I appreciate it even if you dont hear back from me directly! I owe a big thank-you to all my parents, the Putnams, all the Lawrence ladies (and happy belated 80th to Papa!), Bonnie and John and Peggy Collier, Selenda, Auntie Beth, Jan Cole, and Lydia, Tovs, and Shala! I'm lucky to have so many friends and family that haven't forgotten sweaty little Morgan all the way over here in Burkina Faso! Also all the emails are wonderful too!

Finally, an early Happy Mother's Day to all the amazing Mothers in my life: Mom, Ellyn, Kunsi, Granny Beth, and Nana. I Love and miss you all!

And now I'll leave you all with a this picture of me playing mommy to my little brother Abbas, snotty nose and all. Corny as it may be, just being able to see him grow up a little each day makes even the hardest days here worth it.

Two of my little neighbors going for a stroll.

A quick shot of the bus station in Bobo, its not exactly greyhound.

Another little neighbor on his way home after fetching water. The bike's too big for him and the water jug is too heavy to carry, but this method works pretty well

A couple of the kids who hang out in my courtyard a lot, my regular posse. Sinata with her hair freshly done

Those are the two things that have pretty much dominated the past few weeks for me, though luckily from afar. In mid February there were some demonstrations in Bobo (the city I come to for internet, etc) which were planned to protest the high cost of living which is very unrealistic for most Burkinabe to meet. Things escalated and rioting began in the areas surrounding downtown. Lots of breaking/burning things, with hundreds of arrests and 3 deaths, I believe. There was an attempt to break into the Peace Corps house where volunteers stay when we're in town, but there was only minimal damage done (broken windows and our guard got hit in the face with a thrown rock, he's fine now). Demonstrations continued in other cities and all volunteers had to stay at our sites in village until things calmed down. As a result, I got very creative with my dinners, as food options are quite limited in Tin.

At the same time, there has been a meningitis epidemic in the region of Orodara, where I live. About 250 deaths country-wide so far, so the ministry of health set up a huge vaccination campaign and I spent the past week assisting with vaccinations in Tin and the smaller villages nearby which our health clinic serves. After over 2000 vaccinations and almost that many screaming kids (they dont like shots), we're all done. Though it kept me really busy, it was nice to feel useful and hopefully there wont be many more meningitis cases in my area at least.

In other news, my initial 3 months at site are coming to an end and I'll be leaving this weekend to head to the capital city of Ouaga for 3 weeks of more training which is designed to better equip us to address the health problems specific to our individual villages. Following that, I'll return to site and start doing "real" work. I'm looking forward to seeing the other volunteers and being in a city for a few weeks. That also means more regular internet access so please feel free to email me with hello's, questions, or news from home!

And now, a few pictures....

Watching the evening sun through the trees in Tin

We made chocolate pudding at Lori's house in Badara. It was too hot to set and so drinking it was the only option. yummy....

Ok, I can't get this picture to upload correctly, so just turn your head or something to see it. It's the very pretty view from my house of my courtyard and the mountain of Tin.

Because many of you back home are understandably curious about my experience here so far, I've taken the liberty of compiling a list of frequently asked questions (as well as a few that no one has asked but i felt like throwing in there) and their answers. Enjoy.

Q: Does Mayonnaise really have to be refrigerated? (clearly this question has been foremost in your mind)

A: No, this is a lie propogated by the refrigerator industry in the Western world. I keep mine on a bookshelf in my house after opening it, and despite the 90+ degrees temperatures, its good for weeks. This applies to pretty much all condiments. Dont be grossed out, its the truth....

Q: What does your work in Burkina Faso consist of?

A: I am currently in the midst of conducting a comprehensive Etude de Milieu in the village of Tin, primarily utilizing PACA tools and KAP studies.

Q: Uh...but what do you do??

A: I hang out at the CSPS (health clinic), go through old records, assist with vaccinations, and chat with patients that come in. And apparently, I faint at the sight of blood, when the mood strikes me. At the moment I'm focusing on getting to know the village and its health needs through both informal and formal methods so that following another training session next month, I'll be able to begin to actually do some "real work." A lot of this will be assistin at the CSPS, with vaccinations, and doing health education sessions on various topics throughout the community.

Q: What do you do to relax in village?

A: Well, my current tally of books read so far is 37, so I read a lot, anything ranging from trashy romance novels to Les Miserables to Keroac. Also, biking to the closest town to meet up with other volunteers and get a cold bisap (kind of like hibiscus juice) is always nice. We're entering the "marriage season" right now, so I danced up a storm at my first one the other night. They're huge village-wide celebrations with lots of dancing and music, so that fun too. And of course, I play with my posse of kids every day.

Q: You mention playing with kids a lot. Dont you have any adult friends in village?

A: Still working on that one. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that soon someone will walk into my courtyard and declare in perfect french "Je voudrais etre ton ami, tubabomuso!" (I would like to be your friend, white lady!). This has yet to occur, but I do spend time with neighbors and coworkers in addition to my little playmates under the age of 10.

Q: So you mention that you bike a lot. You must be very tan, fit, and thin these days!

A: This is a common misconception and a sore point for many volunteers here. Because there is no fresh fruits or veggies in village and the meat is a bit questionable, my diet is mainly carbs which doesn't do wonders for one's figure. The result is very strong legs from biking over the evil mountain all the time, but not much else, and a tan that only includes my arms and legs from the calf down, everything in between is still deathly pale, reminiscent of a Vermont winter.

Q: Did you get my letter/package/email?

A: maybe, but dont worry if I haven't yet, things can take a loooong time to arrive, but they almost always get here eventually. I apologize for not responding to most letters, but postage is really expensive for me. That doesn't mean I dont appreciate them though, I LOVE hearing from everyone at home, so keep them coming!

My mental state-

"Emotional roller-coaster" does not even begin to describe it... On a typical day I awake in a neutral state of mind to the sounds of roosters, small children screaming, and women pounding millet. I prepare my oatmeal and then take a trip to the latrine, at which point my day often sours. Either cockroaches climb out of it over my foot or I'm attacked by the ever-present G.I. issues in Burkina Faso, and neither of these do much to improve my mood. Following that, I make my way to the CSPS (village health clinic), passing neighbors on the way, all of whom are incredibly friendly and take a moment to chat with me. This improves my mood rapidly. Once at the CSPS I continue to feel happy and somewhat productive, and enjoy the company of my coworkers there. Unfortunately, there are times when my work is anything but uplifting, and the mood plummets yet again. After a few hours there, I return to my house and hibernate for a while, staring at the termites eating my furniture and missing the emotional comforts of America, family, and friends. I also read a lot, oftem bursting into tears at the corny parts in cheesy books. A pretty pathetic site. Then I'll motivate myself to venture outside, where the kids instantly cheer me up and I spend a good hour or two playing happily with them. Some days I get visitors, people in the community that I'll either be working with later or who are just friendly and like to stop by and chat for a while. My mood continues to rise from this, and I'm perfectly content and happy until something little happens like realizing I have no food for dinner or the cow in my yard wont stop bellowing for two seconds and allow me to get a second of peace. Then I wallow in misery some more and stare at my calendar listlessly, thinking I would cut off my little toe to have someone to talk to in English (seriously, i mean, little toes aren't that important after all).

My saving grace-

There are just enough moments each day, each week when I realize its worth it to be here. Sometimes its something upsetting, like weighing babies during village vaccinations and realizing at least 2/3 of them are malnourished. Depressing and daunting, but it gives me a concrete issue to focus on, and reaffirms that there is so much work here to be done, that I can hopefully contribute to in some way. Other times, these moments are incredibly enjoyable, like getting together with my theater troupe in village and just hanging out with a drum, dancing and singing until everyone shows up for rehearsal. Then there are many calm tranquil moments like riding my bike in the early morning (on the flat parts, i hate my life during the hills) and thinking that there is no place that would make me more content than right there on the road in Burkina. So, despite the ups and downs, I'm still here and excited for whatever comes next.

And the rabid feminist in me emerges-

I never really thought of myself as a feminist before coming here. If pressed to definitively say that I was or was not, I would have replied yes, but it wasn't a constant thought in my mind. Funny how things chance when you arrive in a country where women are incredibly marginalized. For example, a Burkinabe colleague will bring up the upcoming U.S. presidential elections, and baldly state "Clinton's woman cannot win because women cannot be president; they are not strong enough to lead men." Another day, with another man, the issue of excision (femal genital mutilation, look it up) arises, and it is explained to me that though it is illegal, without it, women will not be faithful and obedient to their husbands, so it continues. Needless to say, these conversations are a little hard for me to stomach, and its a thin line between expressing my opinions and offending those of another culture.

Thats all for now, thanks as always to all of you who have sent cards, letters, and packages! It's so nice to know people are thinking of me!

Sorry for the long delay in posting, life has been a little hectic with moving to my permanent site and getting settled in. But things are going well overall, and after a fresh coat of paint, some curtains and a bit of furniture, my little mud house is starting to feel like a home. Tin has about 3,000 people, and the CSPS (heath clinic) serves several other local villages as well. The main health problems are Malaria and malnutrition, though I'll also be dealing with HIV/AIDS education and other subjects. Most days I spend a couple hours at the CSPS observing consultations, assisting with vaccinations and baby weighings, and just generally getting a feel for it. After that, my time is divided between reading, playing with the kids that live near me (language barriers aren't much of a problem when it comes to 5 year olds), and attempting to speak French/Siamou/Jula, the three languages spoken in my village. Notice english is definitely not on the list....

People are very friendly and welcoming, but the entire experience is an emotional roller-coaster to a degree I never thought possible. Older volunteers warned us during training, but there was really no way to understand until actually getting to site and being faced with it. There are moments when I'm elated to be here, with such a strong sense of purpose and opportunity, and the next I'm tempted to hibernate in my house for a week or would kill for a good meal and some conversation in English. I'm about an hour's bike ride from the nearest town with food and shops, so I go there a couple times a week to go to the marche and meet up with the other volunteers in the region for a bit.

The most exciting/embarassing incident lately took place two weeks ago at the CSPS, where I was observing a young girl having a procedure done. She had no anesthesia, and had to be restrained while they cut open her highly infected hand, right to the bone. In between the screaming and medical talk, I realized I was going to pass out, and then promptly did so, falling off my stool and hitting the ground hard. Not exactly the impression I was tring to make, but I guess thats life....and the bruises from the fall have now disappeared, so life goes on. And I did provide some momentary entertainment and relief for the little girl, to look at the upside of things!

Here we have a picture of one of the two rooms of my house, with the cheerful new yellow paint and my new tables!

A veiw of my house from the outside.

I share my courtyard with these cows in their pen, chickens and goats which roam free, and 7 other people, so having company is not an issue! The big pile in the left corner is bisap, one of the main crops in village.

Lori, me, and Lindsay in Bobo on New Year's. They are the two other first year volunteers in my region so we spend a lot of time together and generally keep eachother sane. Thank you so much to everyone who sent me holiday cards, letters, and packages, it made the holiday season wonderful to know that so many people are thinking of me. Final news is that I have yet another NEW ADDRESS! this is the last change, I promise!

Morgan ColeBP 08Orodara, Burkina Faso

I will be moving to my permanent site this weekend (I officially swore in as a volunteer this past friday!!) so

please take note of my new address if you're one of the amazing people who likes to send me cards, letters, packages, happiness, etc:

Morgan Cole, PCV

s/c Corps de la Paix

BP 1065

Bobo Dioulasso, Burkina Faso

On that note, here are things that I like to get in packages, categorized by type:

FOOD: things that dont go bad and are hard to get here

meat (tuna, chicken, etc in those vacuum-sealed bags)

cheese (parmeasan, velveeta, cheese whiz, etc)

beef jerkey

sauce packets (just add water stuff is great like cream sauce, pesto, etc)

just add water stuff in general, like baking mixes and soup packets

maple syrup!!

snacks- chex mix, chips, munchies of any sort

candy

dried fruit (craisins, pinapple, etc)

ENTERTAINMENT

magazines, both trashy and otherwise

letters!!!

pictures from home

OTHER

anything you can think of, its all appreciated!!

- Burkinabe are the most welcoming, hospitable people in the world. As Bintou, one of our language instructors explained to me, they view strangers they come across as a gift from God, providing an opportunity to learn new things as well as share their own culture and hospitality. This is such a change from America, where people are so often closed off and wary of anyone they don't know.

PIC: my incredible host mom with me

- The Lion King is Disney's adaptation of the Jula legend of how their people came into existence. I'm going to be frolicking in Simba's homeland! - With enough practice, you can balance anything on your head

- 70 degrees is actually cold, and requires the Burkinabe to bundle up in full parkas, wool hats, and hoods when the temperature dares to dip below this level in the mornings. PIC: My littlest brother wearing his usual morning ensemble, when its probably about 75 degrees.

- It takes very little to make a person happy: a cold drink on a hot day, a smile while you pass on the street, a short letter in the mail. Thats the way it should be and I hope it stays with me even when I return to the comforts of the States.

- Food and drinks that you never thought came in bag form actually do. Just bite off the corner of the bag and suck out the contents. examples include water, yogurt, gin, and peanut butter.

- certain things are universal. harry potter is one of them

PIC: my little brother Le Vieux in the best shirt in Africa

- Being taught a third language (Jula) in your second language (French) is hard. Really really hard.

- African cows are not like American cows. They're skinny with big horns and fatty humps on their backs. Like American cows, they often get in the way on the road. PIC: the road to Rikou, filled with cows, as usual

- Roads in Burkina Faso are not nice. The one between my host village and the city of Ouhigouya, in particular. This is the road under "construction" on our last day.

Thanksgiving was fabulous, complete with turkeys and stuffing. No cranberry sauce but somehow we made do. Here is the whole group of us that are living with host families in Rikou, along with our language trainer Yvette. A little sad to be leaving soon, but cant wait to get to my site in a couple weeks! New address to come soon...Me and my little brother Nuru. I love him and want to take him with me to Tin.

I knew it was coming, but kept hoping I could avoid it...but no, I finally droppped my flashlight down the latrine. I peered down the 15 ft hole in the ground and could see the light faintly flickering away before dying out completely. Another possession lost to the evil latrine, alas.

In happier news, Thanksgiving is coming up and we're planning a big dinner as close to the American tradition as possible. Its a little tricky in a country without cranberries or apple pie, but I think it should turn out pretty well. My group is in charge of stuffing, and considering bread goes stale here in about 20 minutes, getting breadcrumbs to make it from scratch shouldnt be too difficult.

The longer I am here though, the more I realize I'm really going to miss my host family when I leave at the end of training to go to my permanent site. My mother and father are incredible and have made my time here so much easier than it would have been otherwise. My little sister and girl cousins and I had a little dancing session the other night, frolicking around my courtyard in the lamplight while they sang. Its amazing how much you can communicate wiithout actually speaking the same language. Now of course after the flashlight incident, they think I'm an idiot, but they've been nice enough to only laugh at me a little bit for it.I managed to take this picture while I was biking, so ignore the slight blurriness. Women here carry everything on their heads, its very impressive. I can now manage a bucket of water, but thats about it, and these ladies will have anything from their lunches to a 30 lbs saxk of rice perched on top of their heads, and walk miles like that.

This is part of the road between my home village of Rikou and the larger city of Ouhigouya where we have class sometimes. When we first arrived, this section was entirely flooded about thigh deep at points and fording it was a little too exciting. Now its mostly just muddy...

Mom requested more pics of me, so here you go. behind me is the booming metropolis of Rikou.

The mosque in Rikou, right next to my house.

Mixing up some banana bread with my fellow volunteers in Rikou. You'd be surprised what you can cook in a pot over a fire. Notice how dirty I am, this is a pretty typical state to be in....

For the last 5 weeks, I have been living in my host village of Rikou, just outside of the city of Ouhigouya, where we bike to for classes and other necessities of life such as cold drinks and electricity. Up until now, we hadn't been told where our individual sites were going to be....but now, all that has changed and at the end of training I will be moving to my new home in Tin, Burkina Faso!

Tin is a small village with a population of about 1300 people, located in the south-western part of Burkina. Their primary source of income is agriculture, specifically mangos, so I'll be eating plenty of those for the next couple years. Apparently cashews as well. Its a good thing theres a lot of them, since there is no market in the village at all, and I'll have to bike about 13 kilometers to the nearest village that has a market as well as a telecenter. Should be interesting during the rainy season...

The biggest city near me is Bobo, about an hour and a half away by bush taxi, and I'm told thats a pretty hoppin' place, by Burkinabe standards. My house in Tin is part of a family's compound, so I'll have plenty of people to keep me company and introduce me around the village once I get there. Also, I hear theres an orange tree in my courtyard, yummy. The main language spoken in the region is Jula, so I've started classes in that, and am continuing french as well. Its a bit daunting, I wont lie.

In other news, we spent a night in the capital city of Ouga, which is quite exciting. There's semi-american food (at least things other than to and benga, staple foods here in burkina), a pool at the hotel, and even nightclubs that will play American music if we ask the DJ nicely. Pretty much, its a very welcome break from village life, though I was happy to get back to my host family after a few nights away. I consider myself just about fully integrated into the community (ha) since I'm now able to carry water on my head from the village pump, name a few things in their native language of Moore, and they all know my name now and have mostly stopped calling me Nasara all the time (meaning white person).

Finally, thanks so much to the people who have sent me packages and letters! A few finally arrived, and completely made my day.

Dont ask why it took two seperate posts, i have no idea, but here are a couple more picturesThe lovely Village of Wangala, where another volunteer lives and I got to visit for the weekend. You see a lot of beautiful African sunrises when you're getting up at 5:30 every morning.

Its so weird to be walking around a tiny African village, go into a restaurant, and see a mural of Tupac staring back at you from the wall.

uploading pictures takes forever, but heres a couple so that i finallly have something to show everyone back home! Here you can see the napping during class breaks under a tree in our village, and some of my fellow trainees learning how to fix a bike tire. more soon, hopefully!

I've only got a few minutes left on the internet after checking email, so I thought Id let you all know I'm still alive. Three of our group of 37 volunteers have gone home already, which was sad to see but actually has reinforced my resolve that this is something I really want to do, despite all the challenges. Challenges so far have included the heat, the bugs, not speaking French well, and not speaking the local language of Moore at all. But every day is interesting in the village and Im doing well.

Just to give an idea of my daily schedule:

5:30 wake up to the sounds of donkeys and prayer from the mosque next door, and untangle myself from my mousquito net

5:45 take a shower- this means stand in the latrine and use a bucket of water to wash myself

6:30 eat breakfast with my host father in our courtyard while little kids sit around and watch. attempt to speak french with him

8-5 have language class and technical training, usually under a tree in the village with 4 other volunteers and a crowd of kids watching. bike back to my house with kids yelling nasara at me the whole way

5-7pm sit with all the kids in my family compound and attempt to learn Moore, the local language from them; which is usually pretty entertaining. the women (who dont speak french) all laugh at me when i try to greet them

7pm eat dinner with my host father, again with kids watching my every move...women and children generally eat seperately so its just him and I and sometimes a random cousin or uncle that stops by. dinner usually covers topics such as explaining snow to him, or trying to explain why Tupac is dead (his music has made it over here, but not the news that hes not around anymore)

8pm retreat to bed, tuck in my mousquito net and get ready for the next day

Im finally here and starting to feel settled in at my new home, which has been quite an adjustment. Advance warning: this is a french keyboard so excuse any typing mistakes...

To begin, the trip here was looooong. several flights followed by a van ride through Ouagadougou to our training site for the first couple days. There were so many incredible things to see as we drove through the city, and i just kept having the so,ewhat idiotic thought "Its just like in the pictures!" Women with babies strapped to their backs, vendors selling everything from mangos to adidas sandals, and hundreds of motos (mopeds). We spent a couple days in Ouga getting immunizations and doing some training before heading to Ouhigouya, where the next 8 weeks of our training will be.

All the other volunteers and I, along with our instructors, went to meet with the King of the region and be greeted by him. He is elderly by Burkina standards, and very dark and leathery, perched in a giant throne with his traditional white robes billowing around him; a pair of aviator sunglasses on his face and a cell phone in his hand. Everything is an interesting blend of American/Western culture with the traditional African way of life. Kids will be walking down the street wearing 50 cent shirt, balancing a huge tub of bananas on their head.

On to my new family! We're split up into groups of ( or so, and shipped out to the surrounding villages around Ouhigouya. After a squishy ride in a van over pitted dirt roads, through small ponds which had formed, and past various livestock in the way, we arrived in my village, where the entire town came out to greet us in a formal adoption ceremony. My father is very sweet and we do our best to communicate in french which is a little tricky considering mine is awful. Here is my journal entry from last night to give you all an idea of what it was like:

Theres so much stuff going through my head right now and all I can think is how surreal this all is. After the adoption ceremony, my parents took me home to their compound, acquiring a huge group of little kids along the way, all staring at me and laughing whenever I made eye contact. My father showed me to my room; which is essentially a small hut/room about 10 square feet with a tiny window. I spent a while setting up my bed and mousquito net, all the while about 15 kids had their faces smushed up against my screen door and window. Eventually dinnertime arrived, and out of respect they fed me by myself, so I peeled cucumbers, cut tomatos (no, i dont like them) and washed lettuce in bleach water with a massive group of people clustered around me watching EVERYTHING I did.

After dinner, I chatted (attempted to) for a while then went to sleep in my sauna of a room. imagine a brick oven. now imagine me in it, loaded up with benadryl and trying to sleep. It was easily 105 degrees, if not more. I was woken up by my mother at 5:30 to ride back to the city for training. More later, but Im running out of internet time now.

A few closing thoughts: I would LOVE letters and care packages so feel free to send stuff! My address is in my last post and things take a few weeks to arrive. My wishlist includes stuff to play with the kids (bubbles, markers, frisbees, etc), powdered drink mix like Crystal Lite (three liters of warm water per day gets boring); purel hand sanitiwer, and various sauce and spice mixes.

Also, for anyone who is curious, I do not have electricity or running water, I "shower" using a bucket of water, and I have to go the bathroom squatting over a hole which I share with the rest of my host family. And they stare and call me Nasara everywhere I go.

Overall, Iùm challenged but amazed and excited about this opportunity and the incredible country of Burkina Faso. Pictures to come soon!!

A friend asked me yesterday what I was looking forward to most about the Peace Corps. Her husband jokingly replied that the answer should be "getting there," and I realized that that is exactly what I'm most looking forward to right now. After a summer spent waiting to hear where I would be going, denying the fact that college is over, and trying to savor the relatively cool temperatures of New England, I'm more than ready to start this new adventure.

There's not much else to say at the moment since I'm currently sitting in a hotel in Philadelphia waiting for my two days of training to start before flying to Burkina Faso on Thursday. I anticipate I'll soon have plenty of stories of outrageous temperatures, mosquitoes the size of my fist, and the many ways in which I'll be saving the world but for now its just me waiting for my room at the Holiday Inn to be ready.

Thats all for now, I promise my next post will have a little substance and entertainment!

Also, feel free to send me letters or packages! I know I'll be dying for news from home and would love to hear how everyone is doing. Care packages are nice too, and I'll have a better idea soon of what will be nice to have once I get settled in Africa.

Here is my address for the next three months of training:

Morgan Cole, PCT

S/c Corps de la Paix

01 B.P. 6031

Ouagadougou 01, Burkina Faso