A few weeks ago, I took a nice trip away from my busy city life into “the brousse” (AKA the middle of no where) to visit another volunteer’s site. Despite its close proximity to me, it took a whopping 11 hours to cover the 90 kilometer distance. The road is bad… to put it nicely. But on the other side of the 11 hour trip was the gorgeous Burkina landscape.

Most of the weekend was spent relaxing and taking in the beautiful scenery. With a backdrop like something out of ‘The Lion King’ how could you not enjoy it? The two highlights of the trip included me fishing and a trip out to one of Burkina’s lesser known tourist attractions.

I have to say, if I was a Burkinabe man, I would choose fishing as my occupation. The one hour I spent out on the lake collecting the fish was a most serene and peaceful experience. I’m saying this because I wasn’t the one who had to spend the energy paddling me across the lake and scooping buckets of water out of the boat. I’m sure his job was less relaxing than mine.

The fishing experience started with the fisherman taking me to his boat, which looked like something a boy scout would’ve made, and was half drowning before I even got in it. Anyway, then we headed out into the middle of the lake where he set up large nets spanning the distance of the lake. We (and by we, I mean he) would pull the boat by the net, and at the same time, lifting the nets out of the water to see if any fish were caught in them. There were four nets, which were set up in a square around the lake. In only an hour’s time, we caught 6 pretty big fish! Then, afterwards, the fisherman, thanking me for all of my ‘help’ gave me 4 of the fish for free! Needless to say, after de-scaling them and gutting them, they were delicious!

The next day after fishing, we biked out to a small village at the base of cliffs. In the 60’s in these cliffs, the people used to live in small mud huts, some of which are still there today.

This is a picture of the inside of the king’s house. There are two “rooms”, which housed a total of 8 people!

Some of my Christmas decorations at my house.

My M&M Christmas cookies I made. It took forever because I could only cook six at a time on a cake sheet in my "oven". But they were delicious!!

Everyone in Bobo preparing our Christmas feast.

Drinking out of the fancy cups that my Gram sent. They were the hit of the party.

Getting ready to enjoy our Christmas feast.

It’s that time of the year again. I can’t believe this is my second Christmas spent away from my family and friends. Although I put up my (pathetic) Christmas decorations and have Christmas candles, it doesn’t feel like Christmas and I wish that I was home more than anywhere else.

Anyway, so I just wanted to say Happy Holidays to everyone at home! I love you, miss you and am thinking of you!

December 1st is World AIDS Day. Peace Corps encourages all of its’ volunteers to do some type of activity on this day to raise awareness. This year, our volunteer health committee wanted all the volunteers across the country to do a mural. Although I’ve never done anything like this before, it sounded easy enough and fun so I decided to give it a shot.

The idea behind the mural is that people will pledge to live a better and healthier life, and then once they pledge this, they will put their handprint on the wall. Because I live in a city, Althea (my site mate) and I decided to target the youth of Orodara rather than everyone. So, we went around to all five of the middle and high schools here, and explained to each class the project. Most volunteers only have one school in their town, so this was a little more work than expected. We ended up inviting about 2000 students, but I assume that more than half of them probably didn’t actually understand what the two crazy white women were trying to explain, so I wasn’t expecting a large turnout.

A week before the kids came, we went to our local health center to ask if we could have a wall there for the mural. The director was incredibly easy to work with, and although I’ve lived here for a year and a half, I was surprised by his willingness to let us do whatever we wanted. He never once asked what we were actually doing a mural of. He just gave us a wall and said, “Go ahead and paint”. Easy enough.

The first step was painting the wall white. This was probably the easiest step of the project. Althea and I showed up at the health center with two rollers and a tub of white paint. Neither one of us really had any idea what we were doing or had ever painted anything before, but hell, it’s Africa. Not only was there a huge crack in the middle of the wall which made things challenging, but my soon, my paintbrush was covered in cobwebs and dust from the corners of the room. Before I knew it, not only we were covered in paint from head to toe, but so was the floor, the desks and the benches in the room. Then, the director came in. I thought he was going to be mad that there was paint everywhere, but instead he said, “Great job! You are like professional painters!” Hah! I couldn’t believe it.

A few days later, we went back to paint the title of the mural, which read, “World AIDS Day 2011”. We also painted the pledge and an AIDS ribbon. The pledge was as follows (except in French):

I promise to live a healthier life. I promise to protect myself against

AIDS and other STI’s. I promise, as well, to protect others. I will

work to eliminate the stigma of HIV/AIDS, so others who are HIV positive

will be able to live with us in peace. Also,I will pass along information

about HIV/AIDS so that everyone in my community can remain in good health.

December 1st conveniently fell on a Thursday, which was helpful because students don’t have class on Thursday afternoons. We told of all the students to come to the health center between 2pm and 6pm to made the pledge and put their handprint on the wall. On that day, I prepared some questions and answers that I put on the wall, some general information, and I dug out my sex kit Peace Corps provides including a wooden penis and vagina. I set everything up so that the kids would have something to look at, and so that we looked prepared haha.

Because I was expecting a very low turnout, I even told my students I would give them bonus points on the next test if they came. So, 2:00 rolls around and there’s no one, then 2:30, still no one. We thought we were going to have to put our own handprints on the wall, and make up initials so the project didn’t look like a total dud. Finally, one student shows up, and we were so excited. Then, a little bit after 3:00, the masses came. They all came at once and in large groups that totally overwhelmed us because we were expecting no one haha. Needless to say, this got a little bit out of control with tons of middle school kids running around with paint on their hand. Not to mention, a lot of inappropriate action was going on by boys involving my wooden penis and vagina… thanks Peace Corps haha. But by 4:30, there was hardly any space left on the wall! We couldn’t fit many more handprints on the wall. More than 200 kids showed up!

The director of the health center was incredibly impressed with the project and really excited about talking to the kids about the pledge. He took them in groups and explained each line to make sure they truly understood what was going on, and then gave out condoms at the end of the presentation (this was by far the students’ favorite part).

Each time I attempt a project here, I have low expectations. I think that people won’t understand or won’t show up. When in fact, each time I have the opposite problem, too many people come that I’m unprepared to deal with such a huge crowd. I guess that’s a good problem to have.

So, I know I haven’t written a blog in a while. I’d like to say it’s because I’ve been incredibly busy and I haven’t had the time, but actually it’s because Africa got my electronics. Not only my computer, but my camera broke at the same time. Thankfully, my computer just needed cleaning (the inside was completely full of dust and dirt. The technician said it was the dirtiest computer he’d ever seen ha.), but my camera’s still down for the count, so for the time being, no more pictures :)

The first thing I want to say is THANK YOU! My library project was funded in less than 2 weeks! I was nervous that it wouldn’t get funded or it would take too long that I wouldn’t be able to finish it before I left this country, but thanks to all my family and friends out there, it was completely funded in record timing! I’ve received a list of donors for my project, and I’d like to say a special thanks to these people:

Becky D… or should I say Rebecca Lowe 

Amy & Jeff Burroughs

Ben Morton

Verena Koller

Tim Coull

MSE

Bob Schiltz & Jean Bigger

I literally would not have been able to do this project without you! I’m happy to say that yesterday I received the money, so the project will be able to start today! I know other people sent in donations, but they weren’t received in time, so thank you everyone else who donated! Your money will go towards funding other Peace Corps’ volunteer projects.

Next big topic: the fair. As many of you know (… or maybe you don’t ha), in September, we organized a big fair to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Peace Corps, and the 50th anniversary of Burkina Faso, which happened to fall on the same year. Each volunteer in the country (now there are about 150!) came together to showcase our work across the country. It was interesting to see all of the work that other volunteers are doing. There was everything from traditional fabric to dancing to jewelry and clothes to nutritious plants… anything you could think of, it was there! (I’d also like to mention that I spent a significant amount of time shopping for presents, so a lot of you will be receiving a nice little present in the mail.)

I brought a jeweler from Orodara that I’ve been working with. He handcrafts silver jewelry. It was really fun because I was able to help him figure out how to market his jewelry to tourists and visitors. I also taught him about bookkeeping and accounting. Although I really know nothing about money and only took Business 101 at the university, I was able to teach him an incredible amount about money management. As Americans, we learn things and pick up information throughout our lives that we never even realize, and probably take for granted. At the fair, he was able to meet the 1st lady of Burkina, the prime minister, and the Ambassador to America, and not to mention, we were on TV a few times as well. This is a pretty big deal to a small town artisan who has never attended school a day in his life.

As I’m sure many of you have assumed this, but another school year has started. We started school at the beginning of October. This year, I cut down the number of hours I am teaching so that I can focus on other projects. I am only teaching 10 hours (which is actually the new Peace Corps maximum for education volunteers) of English. I have 2 sections of the same grade… a grade roughly equivalent to 7th grade. Teaching this year is going much smoother than last year. I restructured the curriculum (because the old one didn’t make sense), and came up with new ways to motivate the students. Also, my French has improved significantly, which makes everything easier.

That’s all the updates for now. Hopefully, I can figure out what’s wrong with my camera and repair that so pictures will come soon.

Think back to your middle school and high school days. Think about how many of your friends and siblings ever failed a grade. In my case, I can count that number on one hand. Now, imagine a school where less than 50% of the students pass. This is the reality that I’m facing in my school in Orodara.

In the 2010-2011 school year, 48% of my students passed middle school and were able to continue to high school, and a shocking 24% of my students passed their senior year of high school! These numbers can be attributed to any number of things: extremely large class sizes, overworked and underpaid teachers, insufficient teacher training, or a lack of textbooks. Unfortunately, most of these things are problems that I do not have the ability to tackle, but luckily, there is one that I can: the lack of books.

Over the past year, I have spent countless hours in meetings with my administration, my teachers’ union, and my parents’ association to come up with a way we can solve this problem. The answer is to build a school library. This not only gives the students a way to claim ownership over their education, but it also gives the teachers new resources that were previously unavailable to them.

Currently, students spend hours of in-class time copying intricate biology diagrams, or complicated math equations. Now that students will have access to textbooks, this time can be better utilized. They can also do research, or simply read for fun. Teachers used outdated or incorrect textbooks for their lesson planning. For example, one history book says that America has 55 states. How can a developing country develop when they cannot even educate their own citizens? Education is the first and most critical step of development.

My school has been able to hire a librarian, delegate a student committee to deal with library problems, and put aside about $430 for books. In order to get this library up and running, I need your help! Your money will buy books, maps, shelves and tables. 100% of your money will go directly to the benefit of my students.

If you are interested in helping, please go to https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=686-162

August kicked off the 2nd annual “Tour de Burkina”, where volunteers bike 1,700 kilometers in 23 days. The point of the tour is to raise money to support Gender and Development projects, such as girls’ camps to promote self esteem, or helping a women’s group raise money. You can follow a day to day update of their progress at burkinabiketour.blogspot.com.

Biking 1,700 kilometers is not something that would interest me, but I hosted the bike tour on August 31st. My town was their first official stop. This included housing and feeding 10 volunteers and organizing an awareness campaign for them to attend. They arrived at my house after 2 hours and 50 kilometers with no problems (except a little mud) and no injuries. Unfortunately, I wasn’t as lucky. I was biking 3 minutes down the road to meet them when I had a small bike accident. I was fine, except for a few cuts. I must admit that my ego was bruised when I arrived covered in blood, dirt and sweat to meet this group of volunteers.

My nearest volunteer neighbor came in for the day to help me host, and organize all of this. We decided to do a theater presentation. There were two different skits, which were based around the themes of girls staying in school, nutrition, and family planning. We had about 12 young girls who were the actresses, and were diligently practicing daily for their big performance. We had been advertising the presentation for a few weeks on the radio and telling as many people as we could. The presentation started at 2:00 pm, but because this is West Africa, that really means about 3:00. Although I know this, I was nervous when there was not a single person in the room at 3:00, but luckily, by 3:30, the room was packed with about 70 people, plus the bike tour volunteers, which I consider a success.

This week I went on one of the most amazing and challenging vacations of my life. Being a PCV in West Africa, you constantly hear about Dogon country in Mali. All I knew about it was that it was some type of mountain formation, and a lot of volunteers hiked it. I really wasn’t all that interested in hiking mountains for a week, but I got invited by a fellow volunteer and figured, hell, why not. So, I was off… headed for Mali.

As I was sitting in the taxi, sweating because it was the middle of the desert, we drove over a hill and I got my first glimpses of Dogon country. I immediately realized why volunteers come here and realized this was going to be an incredible trip.

The Dogon people, up until very recently (1960’s) lived in mud houses built into the side of mountains. At about that time, the forest at the base of the mountains was disappearing and the pygmy people who lived in the forest migrated to the DRC, which allowed the Dogon people to move out of their cliff houses to the base of the mountains. Luckily, their houses and mountain-side villages are still intact today.

The Dogon people were 100% animist. Today, they are still mainly animist, but there are also Catholics and Muslims as well. During the trip, we got to see a lot of their ‘fetishes’ (black magic). When we first arrived in Dogon, we saw an amazing waterfall. Our tour guide, Oumar, informed us that the waterfall is cursed. The Dogon believe the waterfall is sacred, and therefore do sacrifices for it. Last year, despite the warnings of the Dogon not to swim in the waterfall, tourists did swim there. According to Oumar, when the tourists got in the water, the water turned boiling hot, which scalded and killed the tourists immediately. This is not the first or only story about the sacred waterfall killing naïve tourists.

Oumar, our tour guide, is from Dogon. He not only speaks English, but knows everything there is to know about Dogon. He was an incredible guide and made our trip what it was.

Because I knew nothing about Dogon before going there, I was not anticipating how challenging the trip would be. I thought we would just saunter along the mountains for a few days, passing villages and seeing the mountains houses. This could not have been more wrong. We hiked into the mountains and to the mountain peaks. If this were America, you would definitely have to sign a death waiver, or have special mountain climbing certifications to do this. It was, without a doubt, the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Day 2 of our climb, Oumar points to a crevasse at the top of the mountain, and says, “You see that gap up there? That’s where we’re climbing today”. I thought he was fucking with me, but a few hours and 3 blisters later, I was sitting at the top of the mountain looking down on the village we just came from.

Never in my life have I been so scared that I couldn’t move… until this trip. At one point, we reached a ladder carved out of wood resting between two rocks. Once again, I thought Oumar was fucking with me when he said we had to climb that ‘ladder’. I put one foot on the ladder, and made the biggest mistake ever… I looked down. I looked down into nothing-ness. There was nothing below the ladder! At this point, I really didn’t think I could make it. I thought I was going to have to turn around. Luckily, that fear lasted about 5 seconds and I was able to push myself through it. Then, thankfully I was at the other side.

I could continue writing about this trip, but instead, I want you to see the pictures. I uploaded the rest onto my snapfish account and they’ll do a hell of a lot better explaining this trip then I ever could, so enjoy :)

Two years ago, I was finishing up training in Guinea. I was glad to be done, and at the same time looking forward to coming back to stage the next year as a trainer. Then, I was evacuated. The next year, when I should have been a trainer, I was a trainee again, sitting through the same exact sessions I had the previous year. It was torturous… to say the least. At the end of my second training, I wanted nothing to do with coming back to training as a trainer. I wanted to be far away from training. Then, after a few months at site, I changed my mind. I remembered why I wanted to be a trainer to begin with. I wanted to help the new trainees who come to Africa with big goals and ambitions, then arrive here and are sick, scared, hot, tired and confused all the time. I wanted to help them and share my own personal experiences and tell them that it really isn’t that hard and despite what you think now, you will get used to it, and you will be comfortable living alone here. So, I applied to be a trainer and luckily, they chose me.

Each trainer works 2 weeks of the training, and my 2 weeks are split up between the beginning and the end. I chose it this way because I thought it would be fun to see the trainees at these two points of stage and see how they’ve changed. It’s really amazing how quickly one can adapt living into a completely new environment and being completely comfortable in it.

Last week was my first week at training. I was looking forward to it. I was excited to meet the new trainees. As a volunteer trainer, we are responsible for working with the program director of education to plan all technical sessions. Because this was only the first week, there weren’t many technical sessions, so there wasn’t a lot for me to do. It was mostly core sessions, like health, safety, etc. I was there with 2 other volunteers, and we were in charge of only three sessions: Intro to Education in Burkina Faso, Project Framework of the Education Program, and Demyst Preparation. The first two have to do with the basics of the Peace Corps Burkina Faso program in general. They are boring sessions, but important for the trainees to learn at the beginning. The third session was about Demyst, or ‘demystification’, which is when the trainees in groups of 3-4 to volunteer sites for a few days to see what the life of a volunteer is life. I have to admit, the most exciting part of the week was that the volunteer house at the training site had a brand new oven, which I used to make cookies for the trainees. On Thursday, the trainees left and headed out for demyst, so before I knew it, I was finished with my first week of training.

But, then came the fun part, demyst. I had 4 trainees and their French teacher at my house for 4 days. I was nervous because I wanted to give them a good impression of Burkina, and wanted to get them excited to be a volunteer, and I didn’t want any of them to get sick, it was only their first week. Luckily, I was at the training site, so I was able to travel with them back to my site. This made their lives significantly easier and less chaotic. Traveling here can be extremely difficult if you don’t know what you’re doing. Thankfully, we made it to my site with no problems. For the next few days, I showed them around town and introduced them to the life of a volunteer. We went on a school tour, to the market, to a women’s association, and of course, we went to drink dolo. A lot of times, trainees come back from demyst sick and knowing where they don’t want to go for their service. When my demyst-ers left, none of them were sick and they all wanted to come live in my region! I think this means I succeeded in planning a good demyst and showed them a good introduction to life as a volunteer.

I’m currently in Ouaga for training, TOT (training of trainers). It’s a weeklong training that prepares us volunteers along with the rest of the Peace Corps staff to become trainers for the new trainees coming in. This is really exciting because we look forward to new groups of trainees who arrive only 2 times per year. This time, being a seasoned and experienced volunteer, I am a trainer for the new trainees. Their training will be different from ours because the education program has completely changed and been restructured (for the better, in my opinion) since last year. Due to this, their stage is longer than ours was, and they go through a lot of significant training that I never had, but wish I did. We are also welcoming a brand new sector this time, an Agriculture program. But, this is neither here nor there. What I really want to tell you about is my unplanned and unwanted tour of Burkina.

Normally, my trip from my site to the capital is about 7 hours, in an air conditioned bus (NOT a bush taxi… thank god), and on a paved road (a luxury most volunteers do not have). So, all in all, my trip, although rather long, is much better than a lot of other peoples. Well, 3 days before I’m supposed to be in Ouaga, a PC staff calls me and tells me that due to security reasons, I cannot travel my normal route and am forced to find a new one. I, of course, have no clue to a secondary route, so I’m frantically calling other volunteers to try to find one. Unfortunately, there was only one option. A route that took me on a cross country trip, which not only costed an arm and a leg, took 3 days, but was entirely bush taxis. I was rushing around trying to get my things together because I realized I had to leave ASAP or I wouldn’t be there in time. All my clothes were hanging on the line to try. Thank god it’s a million degrees here and they dry in about an hour ha. And for all of you that know me, you know that I am not a light packer, but due to the unusual circumstances surrounding this trip, I had no other option. I know my Dad would be proud of the fact that I only brought one bookbag and a purse for 10 days away.

My first leg of the trip wasn’t too bad. It was only 2 hours on a bush taxi. But, I was squished between a big woman and crying baby. I couldn’t move an inch, so in true west African spirit, they fit in 5 more people. Now, I’m holding the crying baby while the mom is holding the taxi door close, and a brown liquid is dripping on me from the ceiling. Super. Thank god it was only 2 hours ha.

The next part of my trip was significantly longer. I woke up at 5:30 because I had no clue where the taxi left from or what time, so I figure it would be better for me to get there earlier. Thankfully, it was easier than I thought. I arrived at the taxi station, and a man says, “Hey! White person, where are you going?” I tell him, and he tells his apprentice to take my bag and puts in on a taxi and voila… I have a taxi. Easy as that. Now, I just have to wait. Normally, in all my taxi experiences, they do not leave the station unless the car is completely full. Then, they will add 5 more people, a goat, some chickens, and a man hops on the roof. This could take 30 minutes or 5 hours. You never know. I ask the driver when he’s leaving and he says, “Tout suite!” (Very soon). I ask if he actually means very soon, or very soon after the car is full. He assures me that no, we will be leaving very soon. I’m doubtful. Then 30 minutes later, he says, “Hey! White person, get in the car, we’re leaving.” So, I head over, and hop in and to my surprise, I’m the only person in the car. And, not to my surprise, the driver was not the owner of the car, but his 15 year old apprentice. We leave the station and pull over about 3 minutes later. I ask what’s going on, and, of course, they don’t speak French, so I have no clue. And I’m still the only person in the taxi. Eventually, the owner comes, and we head off… to the gas station. “Hey! White person, we need you to pay so we can get gas.” I hand over my fare, he fills up an empty bucket with gas so we don’t have to stop along the road, and finally, we’re off for real. About 2 hours later, we pull over in a town, and the taxi driver hops out of my taxi, and without saying a word, hops in another passing taxi going in the opposite direction. What the heck?! I swear, sometimes, I do not understand Burkina Faso and the people here. How can you just leave me, the taxi and the apprentice on the side of the road without saying anything?? I sit and wait and wait, and then I go to pee (which ended up being very complicated because, again, no one spoke French and so they couldn’t understand what I wanted. It ended up being a very embarrassing pantomime with me squatting near the ground pretending to pee.) An hour and a half later, the driver saunters over ( don’t worry… he just had to eat), hops in and again, we’re off. For 20 minutes until we have to stop again. This time, the driver and the apprentice hop out and TAKE A NAP! I’m not kidding, they took a nap on the side of the road for 30 minutes! Finally, after them waking up due to me “gently” throwing stones at them to wake them, they get in and we continue. When, of course, 30 minutes later, we have to stop again to pick up some people. This took about 20 minutes because it took 5 men to heave a bag of rotted meat onto the roof of the taxi. I can only assume, they were planning on selling this meat in the city. In a country where deodorant doesn’t exist and latrines do, bad odors don’t faze me that often, but holy shit, that rotting meat… I honestly thought I was going to throw up in the taxi. And, to make matters worse, they were heaving the bag up on my side of the car, so the blood and random pieces were dripping down my window, where they dried instantly due to the scorching heat and I was forced to look at them for the rest of the trip. Again, we’re off, and this time, only 7 hours since leaving my original destination, we finally make it there. A fellow volunteer met me at the station and the first thing he said to me was, “Why did your taxi take so long?”

The next day, I wake up really early and start on my third and final leg of the journey. This, thank god, was a bus and a rather long trip, which I was thankful for because that means the bus will be air conditioned. HA! Once again, I was wrong. The volunteer warns me that this transport company is horrible and to be ready. So, I get there really early and buy my ticket. The bus was supposed to leave at 8, and, of course, the bus arrived at 8:20 full of people. I head over and wait for the people to get off the bus, which is when I realize that the people on my bus have already forced themselves onto the bus. They, literally, push people out of the way to get on the bus. Despite being the first person there, I was one of the last people to make it on the bus. There are no assigned seats, so if you’re the last person on the bus, you will have to stand for the entire 6 hour bus ride. In my case, I was seated between two very large and loud African women who insisted on getting off the bus at every single stop to buy a snack to eat on the bus, one of which was fried chicken. You know, an easy, on-the-go snack. So, I’m trying my best to sleep so I can pass the time easier. Despite it being so hot you want to die, the trip went smoothly with no big hiccups and I made it to Ouaga on time.

After that really long trip, I decided that I deserved to eat well, and so, this week while being here, I’ve been splurging… eating anything with cheese and chocolate ha. Unfortunately, my week is about over and my wallet is significantly smaller, and now I have to head back to site.

One of the most fascinating aspects of African culture is their religion. In Burkina, about 60% of people are Muslim, 40% are Catholic, and 100% are animists. They believe that spirits can move all objects, such as animals, trees and rocks. I have heard stories of people being arrested or even killed because other believed they were ‘skin changers’. They believe that humans can take animal form, especially cats, to carry out revenge. If the act was carried out while a human was in their animal form, they cannot be held responsible because it wasn’t them who carried out the task.

The Burkinabe believe the spirits here are very powerful, but can be pleased with offerings or animal sacrifices. I have witnessed several animal sacrifices for the land to remain plentiful, for the rivers to continue running with water, or for farms to have a lot of crops. The spirits can bring about health, happiness, wealth, or a variety of other positive things.

I have also been witness to the outcomes of unhappy spirits. Almost every accident or illness is attributed to a bad spirit who has been sent by someone. When someone falls sick, before taking them to a hospital, they will be taken to a marabout, or more commonly known as a witch doctor. They believe that you became ill because you did something bad to someone else. Then, this person sought out a witch to send a curse your way.

A few months ago, there was a young man staying with my neighbors’ for a few weeks. Towards the end of his stay, he started acting very strange. He wouldn’t sleep at all. He would wander the river behind my house, the area traditionally known to be a sacred place for witches. He refused to drink water or eat any of their food. His calm demeanor suddenly changed. My neighbors’ family became very stressed out about this, and called his family to come immediately. They explained to me that he came from a pagan family, and his recent change in behavior was due to that. Someone had cursed him. His family came and took him to a marabout where they carried out a traditional ceremony to remove the curse. I tried to convince them to let me come and meet the witch doctor and see the traditional ceremony, but they wouldn’t let me. Apparently, afterwards, he was cured and returned to his life as normal.

The town I live in has a significant pagan community. When I first found this out, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I half expected to meet someone who dressed in black and did spells, like in stereotypical movies. Of course, I had to meet one to learn more about them and their beliefs. I did so rather quickly and easily, and after several conversations found that it is nothing more than a belief in several gods and spirits. They believe witches can curse people, or bring about good things. They believe that marabouts can in fact remove the curses.

Ever since I arrived here, I’ve been hearing about this ‘pagan mask ceremony’ that takes place in May. Well, now it’s May and the ceremony has arrived. I’ve learned that for an entire week, the town shuts down. Everything closes and no one can leave their houses due to the sacred and secret ceremony. The pagan men wear masks and go around to all the parts of the town to do ‘fetishes’, or curses. In this case, they are good curses. They are blessing the town and the people. But here comes the weird part, no one outside of their religion can see this. If you see by accident, they will curse you or kidnap you for the duration of the ceremony. If you see on purpose, they will send a curse that will kill you. For an entire week, they cover every inch of the town with their blessings. They wear masks, play flutes and drums, and they dance. Needless to say, I want to avoid all curses so I’m leaving town haha.

At first, I thought people were bullshitting me. I didn’t believe in any of this ‘black magic’ nonsense and thought it was all a hoax. I’ve talked to a lot of people about this subject, and I haven’t come across one person who doesn’t believe in it. I thought that maybe the more educated people who live in cities would think this is fake but they don’t. On the contrary, they are afraid of it. If nothing about these witches, curses and witch doctors are true then why do people still believe in them after hundreds of years?

I started a correspondence program between some of my students and a class from Philadelphia. As soon as I collected the letters from my students, I had at least 5 students ask me every single day whether I received the responses yet. I felt like I could sympathize with my parents from our long car trip days to Chicago, “Are we there yet? I’m hungry! When are we stopping?” Considering there’s a significant time gap in mail to and from the states, I heard this question a lot. Well, this week, I finally received the letters, and I was as excited to tell my students that they arrived as they were to hear that they arrived.

I was impressed with my students’ ability to translate the letters from English to French, considering they are only in their second year of English. But, I ran into some unforeseen questions, questions I wasn’t expecting.

One American student wrote in the letter, “In America, we have malls. Malls are where teenagers hang out.” So, then my student asked, “What’s a mall?” How do you explain this concept to a kid from a developing country? A country where the only places to buy clothes are vendors on the side of the road who sell used clothes that people in America don’t want. (But, I’ll admit, I search through those side-of-the-road clothes piles and have had some good finds)

The next topic was snow. The American students wrote about the four seasons, which is always an interesting topic because the climate here is so extremely difficult. The students here know the word snow. They know it translates to “la neige”, but they don’t have a damn clue what that actually is. So, I’m trying to explain to them that it’s frozen water, but not like ice. It’s soft, and you can play with it. I think I confused them so much it would have been better for me to just say I don’t know what it is. That conversation was difficult enough, imagine the conversations I had afterwards involving snowmen and snowball fights. If anyone can tell me how to explain this concept to these kids, I would appreciate it. Better yet, can anyone send me a snow machine hahah.

The last thing they couldn’t comprehend was how big schools in America are. One student wrote that he was in classroom number 113. Then, my students asked what does that mean? I explained that every classroom has a number so you know where to go. In my middle/high school, there are 704 students, 7 grades and 7 classrooms. So, when I try to explain that there are many different classes for each grade and each one has a number, they were blown away. They couldn’t believe there was a school with 113 classrooms in it.

It’s not that I don’t recognize the differences, but I’ve lived here long enough to accept them. I forget about the differences, and so when I get questions like, “What’s a mall?”, “What’s a snowman?”, or “There are 113 rooms in one building?!?”, it puts me back in check. It reminds me how different the lives of people here are compared to the complicated lives we live in America. Is one way better than another? No. But, one way does have malls haha.

Where to begin? Over the last few weeks, despite all my efforts to stay positive and happy, I’ve mentally checked out. I have the same feelings of being lost, confused and trapped as I did after being evacuated last year.

Due to the constant unrest here from all groups ranging from military to students to vendors, it has made my life extremely difficult. It has been a continuous question mark of what will happen next. Schools are constantly being cancelled due to protests, life in general is disrupted, all major cities are off limits, and I go to bed at night listening to automatic rifles shots. Is this what my life as a Peace Corps volunteer should be?

I live my life day to day. My packed bags stare at me everyday asking me what am I still doing here. I am trying to eat up all my good, American care package food just in case tomorrow we get moved or evacuated. I run through lists in my head. Did I take pictures of everything here I want to remember? Did I buy gifts for everyone at home before I don’t have the chance to? Did I pack everything I don’t want to lose?

I’m not sure what my next step will or should be. Is the country stables out, will I be able to continue my work here as normal? Do I have the ability to mentally check back in and be the successful volunteer I want to be?

** This blog I wrote about a week ago when I was (obviously) having a hard time. I want to stress that not only am I safe, but I am back to a healthy state of mind. I wasn’t going to post this blog, I was about to delete it, but, I thought that my friends and family should know that sometimes life here is really hard. I go through situations that people at home cannot possibly understand and so this is my way of helping you all to understand a little bit.

For those of you who've talked to me recently, you know that the situation in Burkina isn't as peachy and calm as I'd like it to be. I thought I would share some information with you from a CNN article I found:

Ministers fired, smaller government created in Africa's Burkina Faso

From Ouezen Louis Oulon, For CNN

Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso (CNN) -- In the latest shake-up following weeks of popular unrest and sporadic violence, the top two political figures in Burkina Faso announced on the state-run media outlet that they'd fired 24 Cabinet ministers and formed a new, smaller government.

President Blaise Compaore and newly appointed Prime Minister Luc-Adolphe Tiao said Thursday night on Radio Television of Burkina that there will be 29 people in the new Cabinet, down from the 38 in place previously. The full rationale for the shuffling wasn't immediately made clear. Tiao is expected to take questions from the press in the coming days.

Besides ousting 24 ministers, the two men also said they have brought 15 different individuals into the administration. In addition, Compaore will serve as defense minister as well as president.

Djibril Bassole will become the landlocked West African nation's foreign affairs minister -- a position he'd earlier held, before being tapped as the joint United Nations-African Union mediator for the crisis in Darfur, Sudan.

The country's sitting foreign minister, Bedouma Alain Yoda, was among those left out in the new arrangement. The ministers for culture and tourism, infrastructure, health, education, environment, youth, social action and animal resources also have not been retained, according to Compaore and Tiao.

The new government combines several Cabinet branches. Among those, the telecommunication ministry joins with that of transportation, security comes into the ministry of administration, and the human rights ministry becomes part of the justice ministry.

This news came two days after Compaore tapped Tiao, Burkina Faso's former ambassador to France, as prime minister -- a report also broadcast on the national radio and television network.

All these moves follow several recent breakouts of popular discord and violence in the African nation.

Student protests have been ongoing in the nation since February, according to local media reports. These demonstrations came after a student reportedly died in jail.

On March 30, protests erupted over a court case. According to media reports, a man sued a group of five soldiers, claiming they forced him to take off his clothes and walk home because he had dated a soldier's girlfriend. The court found in favor of the man. During the violence that ensued, the defense minister said, his home was attacked.

A small group of presidential security guards revolted April 14over a disputed housing allowance that they said the president had promised them.

They fired shots inside the presidential compound and took to the streets, shooting guns, stealing cars and robbing people, according to defense ministry officials. Two children of a defense official were shot at in the melee and were hospitalized, officials said.

The defense ministry issued a statement the following day saying the soldiers had been paid. And Moussa Ag Abdoulaye, a spokesman for a group of security guards, said on state-run TV that its members remained committed to Compaore and called for a cease-fire.

Still the protests continued, during which buildings in the capital city, Ouagadougou, were set on fire. The president also reportedly replaced the head of the nation's army amid the violence.

The president was at the palace when the demonstrations began and left briefly under heavy security, but he later returned.

In recent days, a curfew was imposed, and sources in the city of Po said violence was also taking place there.

After two trimesters completed (ok, 1.5 completed and a mini civil unrest), I am now on vacation. I have to say, I've never quite appreciated a break as much before. I met up with several other volunteers in the touristy town of Banfora, which not only includes electricity and wireless internet, but hippos and waterfalls. I mean you can't beat that.

I've been lounging at the pool and enjoying the internet almost everyday. I've been able to skype my family and friends, which has been wonderful :)

My grandma writes me a letter every single week telling me of the neighborhood gossip and keeps me informed on the TV shows. In every letter, she signs off saying, "Hello to the hippos for me!" So, I figured while I'm here, I should actually do that. I took off on yet another adventure. We arrived at the infamous tourist site, Tengrela. Here, we were greeted by two Burkinabe "tour guides" and two rickety wooden boats. We payed 1,000 CFA per person (the equivalent of $2), hopped in the boats and headed out in the unknown.

The tour guide, who actually was alot more well-informed about the lake and hippos than I thought he would be (that, or he was just bull shitting all his answers to the gullible white people). The guide, Soumaila, paddles the boat out in the middle of the lake, then stops. We all sat in silence awaiting the "main event". What would happen next? Where were the hippos? He hits the oar on the side of the boat and up pop about five hippos! It was incredible! He said they were the younger hipppos but they still looked really big to me. This is nothing like being at the zoo behind a glass wall or gated fence. Here, we were up close and person (and probably a little dangerous) with the hippos.

So, Grams, this is your "hi" to the hippos :)

Also, my snapfish picture account is updated.

Unfortunately, all schools across Burkina are suspended until further notice. This, seeing as how teaching is my main job, left me with a lot of time on my hands. I graded over 300 papers, wrote 2 new tests, worked on my grant application, read a biography of John Lennon, and created a new recipe of rice and tuna burgers… and it was only Monday. Shit. This left with me a lot of empty time.

On Tuesday, I was feeling rather ambitious, or maybe I was just bored, so I decided to go on a bike ride. Seeing as how I am the most unathletic person ever, I figured I would take a nice, easy bike ride. I started pedaling out of town. I was pedaling, and then I started to get really tired and hot. I told myself I would ride for at least 30 minutes out of town, so I looked at my watch to see how long I was going, and to my great disappointment, it was only a whopping 4 minutes. Despite my laziness telling me to turn around immediately and go sit in front of my fan, I kept going. I made it up the big hill and was now cruising smoothly towards Mali. I kept going and impressed myself when I reached a small town 15 kilometers outside of my town. 15 kilometers! The furthest I ever rode my bike was around my neighborhood block, and that left me sweating and huffing afterwards. And now, I biked 15 kilometers. This is when I realized, I had to bike back. Crap. To my amazement, I made it home in one piece. Then, I took a nap. Haha.

On Wednesday, I woke up feeling like I got hit by a bus. My abs were hurting, my legs were sore, my back was aching. Shit, even my neck muscles hurt. And to top it off, I was sunburned. I decided this day I would definitely take an easy, which is when I received a text message from my neighbor saying he was in town for the day. Great, now I have to entertain someone when all I really want to do is sleep. And, I definitely do not want to get on my bike again. I met him after he finished some errands, then we met up with my site mate, Ben, to get some yogurt. This is when they decided they wanted to go on an adventure. I live in Africa, so “going on an adventure” could mean just about anything. I insisted I was not coming, but they weren’t having that and next thing I knew, I’m at my house filling up my water bottle, lacing up my sneakers and putting on sunscreen. Then, I had to get back on my bike. Ugh. Every part of my body screamed “NO!”, but I did it anyway. Little did I know at that moment, that that adventure would turn out to be one of the funnest days I’ve had here in a while.

Ben said he knows a great route we can follow that follows the river and leads “en brousse” (AKA to the middle of nowhere). We follow our faithful leader and 20 minutes later, we were back at Ben’s house. “Woops, I think I took a wrong turn somewhere.” At this point, I really wanted to go back to my house, but we tried again with Ben insisting, this time, he knew the right way. We headed back into “no man’s land”, where we were biking on small dirt paths where rivers once ran. We kept biking for about 25 minutes when we come into an area I didn’t even know existed. A forest. But not just any forest. A huge, tropical forest that looks like it came out of a scene from a Vietnam movie. We were surrounded by the most beautiful flowers, biggest trees and most colorful birds I have ever seen. Shit, where am I? Oh yea, I’m in Africa. It’s amazing how you can get swept up in life and forget about your surroundings. Forget where you are, and forget, quite literally, to stop and smell the flowers.

I’ll probably never be invited on another one of their adventures again because I couldn’t bike up the river ravine or across the moguls, and I kept making them stop to take pictures of me haha. But, hell, I had fun and I had an adventure. (As if living in Burkina Faso isn’t adventurous enough.)

NOTE: My Pictures are Updated!!

I received a text from a fellow volunteer last week saying, “Congrats! You’ve survived 8 months in Burkina! Only 19 more to go…” This is when I realized, shit, I’ve been in Africa for 8 months already! I know in the grand scheme of 27 months, 8 months is not that much. But, hell, 8 is a lot.

I’ve successfully survived my first trimester teaching English and Biology, and am well on my way through the second trimester. I am confident that not only do I know what I’m doing, but I am fully capable of living and surviving in West Africa (which sounds harder than it actually is… in my opinion). My students have learned to understand me and (for the most part) know what I’m trying to say. They understand my “Franglais” (French-English combined). I’ve been able to not only sit through, but conduct business meetings… in French!

Now that I am confident in my abilities to teach/live here, I have started working on secondary projects. Teaching is my main focus here; I am a secondary education volunteer. But, I have started working on projects that I’m more interested in. Something that (hopefully) will be sustainable after my two years of service are up. I mean, that is the point of Peace Corps… help communities through sustainable projects, not to be a glorified substitute teacher for two years. Anyway, so I’m really excited about my projects. The first and biggest project is my school library. During my planning session with my counterpart (the VP at my school), he identified one of the needs of the school as a library/resource center. When I returned to site, I started looking into this project. My school is a middle school/high school combined and there are 704 students in total. In the “library”, there are 27 books, and most of the books are so old and worn down that they are practically illegible anyway. So, I decided to take this on. I am hoping to transform one of the unused rooms into a resource center/library. This will be a place where students can go to study or read. This project is still in the early planning stage, so I don’t know much beyond this. But, I really hope it will work.

In other news, my house is coming along quite well. When I arrived here, my house was a mess. There was no upkeep (or cleaning for that matter) before I arrived, so there were a lot of issues. But, slowly and surely, I have been fixing, cleaning, painting and organizing my little humble abode. I (FINALLY!) got book shelves and kitchen shelves made, which means my things are no longer in piles on the floor... woohoo! I have a nice little sitting area and cooking area. My walls, which were literally falling down, are cemented and repainted. I now have the bluest house in Burkina Faso haha. This, I feel, is my punishment from telling the painters to just paint my salon whatever color they want ha.

I also finally planted my garden. I have slowly been acquiring seeds, but I wasn’t sure how to proceed, so I just kept putting it off. Well, one day, I decided to hell with it, and I’ll just throw the seeds in the ground and see what happens. If nothing grows, oh well, I’ll try again next year. I was thinking I could just put the seeds in the ground and they would grow. This was until I tried digging up the ground and I found that the dirt was no good. It was a mix of red clay dirt and huge slabs of rocks. So, I ordered the “good dirt” and 30 bricks to make a little wall around the garden area. My neighbor brought over my bricks the next day and filled it in with the “good dirt”. This is when I realized the good dirt is dirt that is hauled out of the trash pile across from my courtyard. Yes, I just paid a man to bring in trash pile dirt… crap. Lesson learned for next time. So I spent the next 2 hours digging trash out of my garden. There were old animal bones, broken glass, plastic bags… you name it, and it was there. At this moment, I was really wishing Wal-Mart existed here, so I could buy a pair of gardening gloves. Unfortunately, it does not. But, this was a few weeks ago, and all the trash didn’t seem to hinder the garden because it is growing by leaps and bounds. It (pathetically) is the highlight of my day; coming home from school and working in the garden. I planted tomatoes, green peppers, green beans, squash, cantaloupe and cabbage. I even have a peanut plant growing, which I never planted. Probably a remnant from the trash pile.

March and April are supposedly the hottest months of the year. It’s only the middle of February and slowly, degree by degree, I can feel the heat starting. Apparently, during the hot season, it averages 115-120 everyday! Oh boy. And, I live in the coolest part of the country! I cannot imagine the volunteers who live up in the desert… with no electricity. At least I have a fan, sort of. My fan is rather pathetic; the head fell off and now points permanently towards the ground… a lot of good that’s doing me haha. Sometimes, if I’m really hot, I’ll prop the fan head on top of a chair or in a dresser drawer. I tried the good old, college stand-by of duct tape. In college, duct tape will fix anything. Well, apparently that rule doesn’t apply to Burkina Faso because it failed miserably. One good thing about the hot season is that it brings the fruit! My papayas from my papaya tree are ready to eat now, and they are delicious! My mango tree has started growing fruit, so they should be ready to eat in about a month or so. The town I live in is the mango capital of Burkina Faso, so in about a months time, I will, literally, be swimming in mangoes. Mango bread, mango wine, fresh mangoes, dried mangoes, mango salsa. I can’t wait!

My site mate just took the GRE’s, the entrance exam for most master’s programs. This got me thinking about my future, which is overwhelming. I always thought that during my 2 years in Africa and Peace Corps, I would be able to figure out what I want to do with my life. Well, easier said than done. I know I’ve only been here for a portion of my time, but I’m starting to panic. Before I know it, I’ll be back at home and then what…? Grad school? Job? Where? When? How? It’s a lot of big questions. I’m 25 and I feel like I should have a clearer picture or idea of what I want to do with my life, but honestly, I have no clue. How do you figure out a life plan?

I’m sure my next blog post will be complaining about the heat, but until then, I’m enjoying the papayas. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the pictures!

10 Ways You Know You Live in West Africa…

1. 70 degrees is freezing to you

2. When you buy a bag of rice infested with bugs, you just pick out the big ones and eat the rest

3. Receiving a letter or card in the mail is the highlight of the week

4. Having 75 students per class doesn’t seem like that many

5. You prefer ‘dolo’ to beer

6. Its ok if there’s a lizard living in your house… at least it’s eating the other bugs

7. It feels weird not to sleep with a mosquito net

8. Having internet access once a month is completely acceptable. Who needs email anyway?

9. You aren’t shocked when you throw something in the trash, and then you see the neighbor’s kid playing with it the next day

10. A donkey wanders into your class in the middle of the session, and no one is shocked

Although I have my days and moments where I hate Africa and cannot understand what I’m doing here, I have more days where I love being here and cannot imagine being anywhere else. So, I feel like I should do the next section:

10 Reasons Why I Love Living in West Africa…

1. Everywhere you go, people say “Welcome!” when you arrive

2. I can garden and have fresh fruit and vegetables all year

3. People will always feed you, no matter what

4. Anywhere you go, a crazy, old, African woman will adopt you as her white child who knows nothing, but will teach you anything and everything

5. You can leave work and take a nap in the middle of the day

6. The cost of a normal dinner in a restaurant in less than $1

7. People will always help you

8. An important part of my integration into the community, is to just sit and chat with people

9. Everybody knows your name because you’re the only white person around

10. Life is simple. There’s not a lot of drama, stress or commotion.

Christmas came, and passed. It was successful, or as successful as you can have when you’re living in West Africa. So, to pass the New Year, Kathryn (my host sister) and I accepted an invitation from our host family to come to their New Year’s party. We were really excited to go visit them! Kathryn lives significantly closer to them than I do, but my travel is much easier because I just had to take one bus on a paved road (this is a big deal in Burkina Faso). So, I thought the trip would be easy. I would leave at 8am and arrive at my family’s at about 1 in the afternoon. Well, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

So, the bus only left at one time (8am), which wasn’t enough time for me to leave my site and get to the bus before 8, so I had to leave the night before and stay in my regional capital for one night. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. We have a satellite office there and there are many hotels. Well, what I didn’t take into consideration was that it is the holiday season and many people are moving around, so all the hotels were full. Luckily, throughout my travels, I’ve been in a lot of situations where I really had no plan and things didn’t go quite as planned, but somehow, they always worked out. So, I didn’t panic. I eventually found a place I could camp at for the low price of $2.00 per night. Perfect. Except, I had no tent, no warm clothes, and nothing suitable for camping. (And for those of you who think living in Africa is like camping, you couldn’t be more wrong.) Also, it’s the cold season, so the temperatures get to about 60 at night in my part of the country, so it’s kind of cold for camping. Anyway, so I eventually found a tent that another volunteer left in the office, and went over to set it up. When I got there, I saw a huge group of about 30 other white people (a rare thing in West Africa), and even rarer, they spoke English. They were from the UK doing an overland tour from Cairo to Cape Town. It’s a weird feeling, when you have to speak English and come across many other white people. Anyway, I fell asleep pretty quickly, but then woke up about an hour later freezing because I was only wearing a tee-shirt and my jean sweatpants, not the warmest clothes ever. All in all, I got about 2 hours of sleep that night.

The next day, I had to leave early to catch my 8am bus out of the city. I called my normal taxi man, Kareem, to come and pick me up. Well, what he didn’t tell me on the phone was that he already agreed to take a couple other volunteers to their bus station at the same time. Next thing I know, all 8 of us are crammed into a small taxi trying to get to the bus station on time. Little did I know at the time, there was no reason for me to rush to the bus.

Normally, they start loading the bus about 30 minutes before the scheduled departure. Well, 8:00 came … and went, then 9:00, then 10:00. Ok, what’s the problem here? I finally get up to see what’s going on, and they tell me that the bus is broken. Super. But we are scheduled to leave at 12:00. Only 4 hours later than planned. This, relatively speaking, is not that bad. So, I’m sitting around, waiting, waiting, and more waiting. Finally noon rolls around and the bus starts… woohoo! So, I hurried and put something on the bus to claim two seats (one for me and one for the other volunteer I was travelling with), when all of a sudden the bus takes off out of the station like a bat out of hell. I’m the only person on the there and the previously “broken” bus is now speeding around town. I felt like I was in “Speed” haha. Finally, after about a 20 minute tour, we head back to the station. As far as I could tell from the runaway bus, everything seemed like it was working fine, but apparently, no, it was still broken. This time they assured me that at 1:00 PM, we will definitely leave. As I expected, 1:00 came and still no advances on the bus. Then, finally, they bring in another bus. Thank God. But the new bus is only half the size of the original bus so there isn’t enough room for everyone, so it’s a mad dash to the bus. I’m pushing big African women, small children and goats out of the way so that I can make it onto the bus. I get on when the mechanic announces that the original bus is fixed. I was doubtful, probably considering that there were a significant amount of bus pieces still lying on the ground. But everyone got off the new bus and loaded the old bus. We were crammed on there, sweating, and the bus was still going no where. So, again, we all get off, and at this point, I was about done. I was getting hot, sweaty, hungry, and annoyed. I was about to just go home and forget the entire trip. But, I ate and got a new wind and decided to wait a few more hours. I really wanted to see my host family and Kathryn.

Finally at 3:00 (7 hours late), the mechanic announces (again) that the bus was fixed, so once again, everyone loads onto the bus. This time, it seemed like a good sign because they actually started loading the bags and the bus was on, they were revving the engine and everything seemed good. The motos and bikes are tied down, and we are preparing to leave the station, when, naturally, the bus stalled. Typical. The mechanic gets off, takes a couple of minutes to fix it, and once again, “it’s fixed.” This time we actually make it out of the station! Woohooo!! We get about 20 minutes outside of town, with the bus only breaking down once, when a woman decides she doesn’t want to make the trip. Which, who could blame her, I’m doubtful if we will actually make it either. But, then the kicker, she had to get down her moto, which was on the top of the bus. So all the men had to get off the bus, untie all the motos and carefully lower down her moto. This whole thing put us another 45 minutes behind schedule.

So, now it’s nearing about 4:30, and we are only 20 minutes outside of the city. I still have a 5 hour bus ride ahead of me. But, we were going, finally. The bus only broke down… 2 more times. Then, about 5 hours later, a dehydrated, starving, smelly, dirty, tired me arrived at my host family’s house. A trip that should have been 5 hours, turned out taking 14.

When I arrived at my family’s, I was greeted by a huge sign saying “Welcome Home, Sara & Kathryn!”, decorations, music, food, and family. So, at the end of the day, I would do it all over again. I would sit at that stupid bus station another 8 hours waiting for the bus so that I could come here. I’m happy to be here, and happy to spend the New Year’s here in the company of good people.

Well, it’s that time of the year. God, how times flies when you’re having fun… or when you’re sweating your ass off and fighting away invasions of insects in West Africa. Halloween, Thanksgiving, and my birthday have all come and gone. In October and November, I was craving pumpkins, watching the leaves change on the trees, and of course, Halloween candy. Now, it’s December, and I’m craving Christmas. I want snow, Christmas smells, Christmas trees, cookies, decorations and lights. I live in West Africa (in case you forgot), so there’s nothing I can do about all these cravings. I have one lone Christmas smelling candle (thank you, Mom!!!!), which I don’t want to burn because I don’t want it to run out. I just keep smelling it, and thinking of all you lucky people in America, who are surrounded by friends, family, and Christmas cookies.

This week is my last week of school before Christmas vacation, and I’m just as tired and burnt out as the kids are, so I decide to avoid teaching today and throw a Christmas party at school. It was probably the most pathetic Christmas party one has ever seen. First of all, I wanted to teach them about the history of Christmas in America. The town I live in is split between Christians and Muslims, so I start by explaining to them that in America, Christmas is not only for the Christians, but it’s for everyone to celebrate. Then, I started to tell them traditional American Christmas stories, which is when I lost them, and they thought I was completely bat-shit crazy. I mean, I would too if I were them. I told them about this magical, fat man named Santa Clause who flies around the world in his magical sleigh pulled by magical reindeer (only I didn’t know the word for reindeer in French, so I told them he was pulled by an animal like a horse). He lives in the North Pole and has midgets that work for him and build toys. Like I said, they thought I was crazy. I continued on to tell them that the night before Christmas he stops at everyone’s house and gives them a present, so that when they wake up in the morning, there’s a present under the tree. This is when I got the question. “Madam, why doesn’t he come to Burkina Faso?” Uh oh. What do I say here? No, this magical, fat man doesn’t avoid your entire continent. He is make-believe, and it’s actually the parents who put the presents under the tree. Crap.

After my stories didn’t go over too hot, I decided to teach them some Christmas songs. Once again, this didn’t go as planned. First of all, I couldn’t remember the words to any Christmas songs, except the chorus to Jingle Bells, and Rudolph the red-nosed Reindeer. Then, the dreaded part, I had to sing to 80 little Burkinabé children. Half applauded and the other half laughed at my pathetic attempt at singing. There’s a reason I always fake singing “Happy Birthday.” Then, I wanted to play them some Christmas tunes from my iPod, except I don’t have any. I stole a couple of songs from my site mate before class, but they were all instrumental only Christmas songs. I mean shit, can I get some Alvin the Chipmunks Christmas tunes, or something entertaining I can give these poor kids.

My final failed attempt was making Christmas decorations for the classroom. Not only do we have no supplies, literally no supplies (there was about 10 packs of colored pencils which all 80 students shared), but they lack all creative ability (something they never harp on as children… critical thinking and creativity). So when I tell them to draw something relating to Christmas we can hang in the classroom, they draw exactly the same pathetic Christmas tree and “Happy Holidays” sign that I drew on the board. When they are all finished drawing, which took an exceptionally long time considering, I wanted to glue the drawings to the classroom walls, which, once again, turned into complete chaos. I had 80 children running up to me, “Madam! Madam! I need to glue this!” I only have one small bottle of glue, so I’m trying as best and quickly as I can to put glue on every single piece of paper they hand me. During the gluing chaos, the kids are putting up their pictures on the walls. I’m finally done, and not only do I have glue all over me, but I accidentally glued one girl’s finger to her paper, and spilled glue down another girl’s back… woops. Then, I have time to breathe and look around at all the decorations. This is when I see that the kids went crazy while pasting their pictures. There was one paper glued to the ceiling, one glued in the center of the blackboard (obviously, “because it’s the best one, Madam”), and then I see the picture that takes the cake. It’s a picture of a half-nude NASCAR girl in a bathing suit. I live in a country where it’s slutty to show your knees, and now, I have a picture glued to my classroom walls of a girl in a bikini… excellent.

So, now, I’m home. I’m exhausted, and it’s the end of my holiday party. It could have been better, but it also could have gone a lot worse. All in all, I wouldn’t say it was a complete failure. I’m retired back to my humble abode, and am sitting eating Reese’s (thanks Grams!), smelling my Christmas candle, and watching “Elf.” Merry Christmas, and enjoy everything about Christmas that I am missing right now!

So, I try to write a new blog everytime I have internet, but this time I don't have any new stories, so I want to take this time to say thank you to everyone at home who has taken the time to support, call, write and love me! It always makes my day better receiving a letter or package, and stories from home! Living in Africa isn't always easy and I can't just pick up the phone and call someone, but the letters get me through!

Special thanks to the following people:

Of course.. my parents, Hannah, Jessie & Yoda

Grandma Kathy, who writes me every single week with the new gossip

GB and Jean

Grandpa Ron & Kay

Aunt B

Jenn O.

Albright

Alpo

Urias

Merci Beaucoup and I love you!

So about 2 months ago, I heard rumors of a fair in my town. I didn’t really think much of it because often times this kind of thing is either false information or the ideas never actually take off. Well, as time passed, more and more people started talking about it. I told one of my neighboring volunteers, and he said it’ll probably be nothing so don’t get my hopes up. Too late, I was already expecting face painters, carnival rides, cotton candy and clowns…. haha just kidding!

Some time passed and the fair was out of my mind, when all of a sudden, my neighbor tells me, not only is the Burkinabé government going to construct a brand spanking new market for the fair, but the president is coming! I also found out that the last time they held a fair like this was in the 1990’s. So yea, it was a big deal.

Well, the week of the fair rolls around, and I’m still not sure what to expect, but I’m excited. The admin at my school calls a last minute (as usual) meeting for the staff. We find out that the school will be closed for not 1, not 2, not 3, but 4 days to “prepare the town for the fair.” Prepare the town for the fair? Ok, why not.

The Tuesday before the fair, was the day everything would be closed to “prepare the town.” All I know is that I don’t have school, so I slept in haha. I get a call from my site mate, another Peace Corps volunteer, saying, “Sara! Get up! You have to get into town! It’s crazy down here!” Ok, I’m up and heading into town. Well, no kidding. Every single man, woman and child was out with a shovel, rake or broom cleaning the town. They were pulling all the weeds, cutting down branches, clearing the roads, and picking up the trash. And to top it all off, there were drummers there to “inspire” and “motivate” the workers. (Could you imagine the Borough of Downingtown announcing the town will be closed and everyone must go down to Kerr Park to help clean for Good Neighbor Day? HA! Yea right!) My other site mate told me later in the day that he went out to buy a broom for his house (just conveniently on the same day as all this), and they were sold out everywhere! HA!

So finally, Thursday rolls around… the day of the fair. I’m up early and excited. I put on my best clothes and head down to the mayor’s office for the opening ceremony. This, again, included drummers and a lot of important Burkinabé government officials. They also had a wonderful thing called bonbon glacé (a frozen yogurt and coconut popsicle-like thing). The ceremony is finished and we head down, along with about 1000 other people, to the fair grounds. When we arrive there, they aren’t letting anyone from the general public in yet, only the important officials. Well, as I quickly learned, I’m not the general public… I’m white. I got in with the important people, which included government ministers and people from the French Embassy. We wandered around to check out everything. It was amazingly organized and clean. I’ve never seen anything quite like it, in Africa that is.

I run into my bamuso (my adopted mother) wearing a full green and white “Burkina Faso and USA friendship” outfit. Well, coincidentally, I have the same fabric made into a dress. So, of course, I had to go home and change so that we were wearing the same thing. Now, if this were America, I would never be caught dead wearing the same thing as my mom (no offense, Mom). But, this isn’t America, it’s Burkina Faso, where it’s totally acceptable and encouraged to dress similar. So, now, I’m back at the fair, wearing the same outfit as my bamuso. HA!

I head around one corner, and there’s a huge mass of people surrounding one stall, so of course, I had to go check it out. When I get there I see three old men sitting covered in various furs, teeth and bones from different animals and that’s when I saw it. The thing everyone was there to see… an elephant head. It was humungous! You don’t realize how big these animals are when you’re at the zoo. The elephant was accompanied by a hippo head, a warthog head, and a full cheetah! It was quite something! (Sorry, I tried to take pics, but the men didn’t like that ha.)

The next thing I come across is the row of traditional medicine men. (Now, if you forget how fascinated I am with medicine men, please refer back to my blog about my bike accident.) Needless to say, I was really excited to check them out. Most of them were normal (well, as normal as any old, traditional medicine man will be) and selling various herbs and plants to cure everything from hemorrhoids to blindness. I asked about a couple of the plants they had, and as curious as I am about this stuff, I’m still nervous about taking any it myself. So, I continue down the row, when I come across one man that really creeps me out. So, naturally, I had to stop and check out his stuff. The first thing I notice is a pile of about 50 human teeth on a mat on the ground. Not only were they human teeth, but they were still attached to the root, as if they had been pulled straight out of the gum! Then, I look over, and he has a huge scorpion crawling up his arm! I tried to chat with him, but he didn’t speak any French, only Jula (the local language here). And, once again, I tried to take a picture, but he wasn’t having any of that. And the last thing I need is some weird African spell put on me because I took the picture of a traditional medicine man.

So, I’m back, wandering around the food section, buying some amazing bananas right off the stalk, when I get another frantic call from my site mate, “Sara! You gotta come over here! There’s a man with a monkey on a rope!” Apparently, there was a whole other section of medicine men that I missed, and one had a monkey! So, I had to go check it out, and got distracted on the way buying more bonbon glacé. I round the corner, and see another swarm of people, so I know I’m in the right place. And once again, I’m white, so I was immediately dragged to the front of the group by the medicine man. I’ve seen a few monkeys here and in Guinea, and none of them were very big. They reminded me of the little pet monkey that Ross (from Friends) had. This man had two monkeys, and one was really big. The little one was just sitting contently eating bonbon glacé, but the big one was mad, probably because he wasn’t eating bonbon glacé and was wearing a tee-shirt that said (in English) “Who’s my Daddy”. Anyway, I saw the monkeys, and it was fun, but nothing I would want to get too close to.

The chaos of the fair lasted for three whole days, and the whole while, everything in town was crowded and the cell phone reception was overloaded so I couldn’t make or receive any calls. But, all in all, it was great! I bought a lot of good stuff (which I will be sending home as Christmas presents), and ate some really good food! I saw an elephant head and some crazy medicine men. I mean, how many people can say that they’ve done that?

On a side note, a lot of my devoted blog readers have asked how my gym classes are going, and I proudly want to say that I was not chosen as the gym teacher! Thank god for the youth of Burkina Faso.

I’ve been at site for about a month. On September 15, the other teachers at my school were supposed to arrive, and we were supposed to have a big, important meeting, Le Conseil. From what I understood, it was a meeting to discuss teacher’s schedules, the last school year, and problems at the school. It would be my first school related meeting and my first meeting in French. I was nervous, but also excited to get going. So, September 15th rolls around and no there’s no conseil. I wait, and wait, and eventually it comes. I get a call yesterday morning from my homologue (the person at my school who’s my contact for any problems and pretty much in charge of me), telling me that the conseil will be held that afternoon at 3. Finally! Only 2 weeks late hah.

I show up at my school around 2:40, as a good American, I’m a little early and ready to go. There’s no one there. I sit around and wait. Eventually, at 3, my homologue (who is also the Vice Principal) shows up. He tells me that the Principal is sick with “le palu” (AKA malaria. SIDE NOTE: Everytime someone is sick here, they think they have malaria, a parasite that can be deadly if it goes untreated. My homologue told me twice he probably had malaria because he was really tired. They’re usually fine within a couple of days.) So eventually some of the teachers start rolling in, and the conseil starts closer to 4. We start of with introductions, and, of course, everyone is wondering who is this new white girl. I introduce myself, “Je m’appelle Sara. Je suis une volontaire avec le Corps de la Paix. J’enseigne le SVT et l’Anglais.” (My name is Sara. I’m a Peace Corps volunteer. I teach science and English.) Whew… I made it! The other teachers seem satisfied with my response because they continue on. At this point I realize that only 12 of the 20 teachers and 2 admin showed up for the meeting, and I’m the only female teacher! Oh boy.

We continue on with information about last school year. Basically just a lot of statistics unimportant to me, but there was one shocker. He announces how many students passed the BAC (the equivalent of the SAT’s, but students are required to pass the test in order to graduate). 43%!!! Yes… only 43% of the students passed! I couldn’t believe it, and I think my face said it all because my VP stopped the meeting to ask me if I was ok haha.

So, next section of the meeting, problems at the school. The big problem for this school year is lack of sports equipment, athletic fields, and a gym teacher. I take a mental note that I may be able to help with sports equipment and athletic fields. Then, he asks for someone to volunteer to teach gym. I ignore the request because he could not expect this skinny, white girl with glasses to teach any type of sport when out of nowhere, “Sara, could you be our gym teacher?” Oh fuck. Well, I once walked the mile in 25 minutes, and almost failed gym another year, so I was probably the best person here HA! I politely tell him that I don’t think I’m the best candidate, and he assures me that he can give me all the resources required (except sports equipment and athletic fields…). I try to weasel my way out of this one, and I’m still not sure if it 100% worked. We’ll see if I show up for the first day of school and have “Gym” on my schedule.

After the whole gym debacle, we move on to the part I’ve been waiting for… teacher’s schedules. Now remember, this conseil is being held 3 days before school starts and the teachers still have no clue what they will be teaching, and no one seems concerned about this except for me. I browse over my schedule… it’s looking good so far, 2 sections of middle school English (74 students each), 1 section of high school English (60 students), and 1 section of Geology (99 students!)… wait, Geology? When was the last time I studied rocks? Let me tell you, it was with Ms. Davidheiser when I was in middle school… 10 years ago! Uh oh… I’m in trouble. After the conseil, I head to my homologue’s office and the “library” (a room with one locked cupboard filled with old textbooks) to collect the books I need for my classes. I immediately get overwhelmed when I come to find out that there is no curriculum or book for my high school English class, and the geology book is a really in-depth, wordy book about rocks. Do we have a rock collection at my school? How am I supposed to teach this?? Not to mention, they throw in a section of Sex Ed after rocks… can you say “le penis” haha.

So, the whole day today I spent running around to different bookstores and the other high school in town trying to collect the books and materials that my school was lacking, and trying to figure out how to teach 99 kids about rocks. It’s been overwhelming, stressful, and frustrating. But, hey, it’s Peace Corps… “the hardest job you’ll ever love.”

** It took too long to upload pics onto my blog, so i updated my snapfish account **

http://www2.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=2589346022/a=1579671022_1579671022/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/

Enjoy!

Apparently I can only post a max of 5 pics at a time...

So, I'm happy to say that I've beat my old Peace Corps record of 4 days at site. I am now going into my 3rd week... woohoo!

But, because I've been at site, I have no internet connection (womp womp). In the last few weeks since I've blogged, I swore in (again) as a Peace Corps volunteer, and moved to my site where I'll be living for 2 years, hopefully! It's been chaotic, stressful, amazing, new! I had to say my good bye's and head off to live in a town all by myself (except for the 2 other Peace Corps volunteers, a few Americans doing a health study, and the 3 Japanese volunteers)... so, I'm really not alone haha. It's been really great so far.

Instead of writing a long detailed blog about every single thing that's happened in the last few weeks, I'm just going to put up some pictures. If there's something specific you want to know, either comment on the blog or email me.

Yesterday morning, before Katherine and I left for school, our dad asked if we would be around after dinner that evening. We said yes we would be around, we didn’t have any plans, and he was excited and announced he had a surprise for us. This coming from our Burkinabé host dad, we had no idea what to expect, but were really excited.

So after school we ate lunch (hamburgers and chwarma... yum!), and then hurried home for our surprise even though it wasn’t until dinner time. When we got home, our family was preparing a feast. They were making popcorn, crevettes (like shrimp flavored chips, which sound gross but are actually really good), bissap, many chickens, and there were a lot of drinks. At this point, we realized our family was throwing us a fête! We sat around for a few hours and watched them prepare the dinner and the house. They got out the good music, the fancy cups and plates, the new tablecloth, and of course, their party clothes. Katherine and I adjusted to the situation as good Peace Corps volunteers learn how to do, and put on our party clothes too, which happened to be matching green and brown outfits (AKA our mint chocolate chip outfits). Around 8 pm, the party began.

Our dad started with a speech, saying that this party was for us as a going away party. He said he wanted us to know that we will always have a family here, and whenever we pass by, he hopes we will stop by. The doors are always open and there is always room for us, even when there are 9 people living in a 2-bedroom house haha (as it is right now). He said their family learned as much from us and we did from them, and that they appreciated the experience to meet us. The speech was probably one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.

Then, as any good party, came the food. It was a buffet style feast that included salad, two kinds of chicken, couscous, chips, popcorn, and French fries. It was delicious! After dinner, our host dad opened the beers and wine, and then came the dancing. They put on a mix of traditional Burkinabé songs, some French music, and even salsa. They laughed at Katherine and me as we tried to dance. There’s no competing with African women haha. But, it didn’t matter, we danced away the night and had a great time. At the end of the night, my host mom announced that I had found “the rhythm”. For those of you who know me, you know this is not true, and I have never been able to dance well. She insisted it was true, but I think it could have to do with the amount of whiskey she consumed haha.

After we finished the second bottle of red wine and our family wanted to continue dancing, our 4 year old host sister said, “But Mom, the bissap is finished.” She had thought that the wine was bissap! Haha! After a few hours of dancing, eating, drinking, and me finding the rhythm, our host family decided that we “passed” and invited us back for their New Year’s Eve party haha.

This has definitely been one of my favorite and most memorable nights spent here. After living with four different host families across Guinea and Burkina, I had found MY family. A family that I felt comfortable enough with that I had adopted them as my own as well as them adopting me. It was a great night, and made me glad to be here.

As a Peace Corps volunteer in Burkina, I ride my bike… a lot. We go through a few sessions of bike maintenance and bike safety. The most important things are always wear your helmet, and always signal when turning. Since I haven’t been on a bike since I was about 12 when I had a purple sparkly bike, I made sure to always follow the rules and pay attention when I’m biking. After about 2 months here, biking around on dirt roads, I was getting pretty confident on my bike and becoming a pretty good biker. Or so I thought…

A few days ago, after a long day of teaching and classes, I left the school and headed towards a nearby restaurant to celebrate the birthday of a fellow trainee. (Let me preface this by saying that as a part of our training, we have to give a 15 minute presentation in French about a cultural aspect here. I chose to give my presentation on traditional medicine vs. modern medicine in Burkina. After interviewing a few people, I found out that people who practice tradition medicine mainly treat using different parts of plants. Being a biology major, I was really excited about learning about the different types of plants here and what their uses are.) So back to me biking down the road, I was riding near a part of town where there are a lot of trees and plants, and so I was looking at the plants and thinking about what their possible uses are, and trying to remember what they looked like so I could look them up in my traditional medicine book when I got home. I was approaching the turn to the restaurant and signaled like a good biker… or at least I thought I did. So I’m turning left when a moto swerves around me and WHAM! I’m hit! My bike flew to the right, and I flew to the left. I hopped up really quick, made sure my glasses weren’t broken, and then checked out the rest of me. I had some nice scratches on my knees and my hand, but nothing was bleeding too badly. I decided I was ok, and after convincing the other trainees who witnessed my mini accident that I was ok, we continued to the restaurant for the birthday.

I’m there for about an hour or so, and realize that my elbow really hurts and is starting to swell. I decide its time to head home. I ice it and wrap it for the night hoping it would be better in the morning. Well, I woke up in the middle of night with it really hurting and couldn’t fall back asleep. The next morning, my elbow still swollen and in pain, I realized I should call the doctor. Luckily, he happened to be at our training site that day. He takes one look and it and says I need an x-ray immediately. Crap. All I can think about is the other trainee who was recently medically evacuated to South Africa for a similar incident involving his elbow and a bike. I don’t want to be evacuated. I want to swear in with the other trainees.

I head off to Ouagadougou, the capital, with our doctor to get my x-ray. I walk into the Peace Corps med unit when I hear, “Holy crap, Sara!” Who do I know here? I look over, and it’s Phil and Dylan (my fellow volunteers from Guinea)! They were coincidentally in the med unit at the same time as I was! This was a nice little surprise and comfort to see people I know. After quickly saying hi, I was off to the radiologist for my x-ray. I went by myself, which I was a little nervous about. But, I successfully got an x-ray and received the results from the doctor… all in French! This whole thing took about 45 minutes, and I found out that my elbow is fine. I have to wrap it and wear a sling for a few days (so embarrassing!), but after that, I’ll be good as new! Yay!

When I get back to the med unit, I meet back up with Phil and Dylan, who I think felt bad for me, and took me out for some pizza! So, all in all, I got a nice little vacation away from training, some pizza, and got to see my old friends… getting hit by a moto wasn’t so bad after all.

I learned a few lessons from this whole experience. One, there is a reason I haven’t done one physical activity or sport in my 24 years of life… because the one time I do, I get hit my a moto. Two, I now know how to wrap my left arm with only one hand. And three, sometimes signaling just isn’t enough.

The last few weeks are the most intense part of our training, practice school. We teach for a few hours each day at a summer school. I have been teaching math and biology. Friday was our last day of practice school! Woohoo! Normally, we have 4 hours of language class on Saturdays, but yesterday, they decided to take us on a little field trip to celebrate our hard work and the end of practice school. They announced that we were going to feed crocodiles…

I really didn’t know what to expect from this. I’ve been to the zoo and paid a quarter to feed the ducks or an occasional camel, but crocodiles were on a whole different level. We arrive at the crocodile place, which was basically a huge lake surrounded by some marshy wetlands and trees. There was a place to eat lunch, and naturally, the touristy shops. The first thing I noticed when stepping off of the bus was that all the workers there had some type of deformity or handicap in their feet. Of course, the first thing I think is that they were attacked by the crocs. This makes me a little nervous, but I follow the group down to the lake.

Now, if this were America (if only I had a dime for every time I said that phrase), there would be a clear separation between us and the crocs, but we walked right up to the edge of the water. I’m looking into this lake when all of a sudden, about 10 feet away from me, I see a croc peak it’s head and eyes up out of the water. It was like something you would see on a movie… a horror movie haha. Now, I’m still a little wary of these crocs, so I step back… behind the rest of the trainees ha. Next thing I know, the man in charge of the crocs heads out into the middle of the lake with a dead chicken died to a string. He starts swinging it around in the water until a croc gets close enough that he can grab it. Yes, I said grab it. A wild croc. With his bare hands. He gets a hold of the tail and starts dragging it out of the water towards us. He puts the croc down in front of us, and announces that we can go touch it now. It started with our brave trainers, and then slowly progressed to some of the trainees. For most of the time, the crocodile would just sit there while all us took our turn touching it. The man in charge of the croc would swing the chicken near its face, presumably to distract it from the thought of eating us haha. Everyone few minutes, the croc would get angry and snap towards someone, or try to head back into the water.

After the novelty and this croc wore off, one of the kids in my group asked jokingly if he could sit on top of a crocodile and ride it. We all laughed, when to our surprise, the man in charge says yes, he can arrange that. He’ll go catch “le vieux” aka “the old one”. We were all shocked as we watched him put the first croc back into the water, then head back into the crocodile infested lake, with the chicken in hand, to catch the old crocodile. A few minutes later, sure enough, he’s dragging out a much larger, older crocodile. He plops it down in front of us, and says we can sit on it. Once again, I’m thinking hell no. All I can picture is me trying to sit on the croc, and that’s the end of my right hand.

After about an hour of so of poking and sitting on the poor crocs, we’re finished and we head up to eat lunch. At this point, the man in charge of the crocodiles tells us their story. First, let me start off my saying that there’s a common joke among Burkinabe that, “50% of them are Muslim, 50% are Christian, but 100% are Animists.” Obviously, the numbers are a little off, but the point is that most people here are animists. Ok, so the croc story. So along time ago, the crocodiles lived about 5 kilometers away from their current town. One day, the founder of the town where the crocodiles currently live, Sabou, caught on fire. Luckily, the crocodiles were around and they saved his life by putting out the fire. After that, the crocs were moved to Sabou, and have lived in the same lake for over 100 years. He said there is a relationship between the crocodiles and the humans. The crocodiles saved the founder’s life, so now the people of the town care for the crocodiles. Every year, they make a sacrifice to the crocodiles to keep them happy. He didn’t say what the sacrifice was, but I would think that it would be a chicken, or other small animal. He said it’s ok to go swimming in the crocodile lake because the crocodiles and humans are friends. (There are 100+ crocs in the lake… this is not a theory I would want to test out!). He also said that during the dry season, the crocodiles will leave the lake and venture out into the town. If you happen to find a crocodile in your house, which apparently is common, you feed it a chicken and it’s good luck for the family.

Later that night, when I return home to my host family, I ask them about the sacred crocodiles. They assured me that the crocodiles and humans in Sabou live peacefully together. But they also said that the crocodiles know the difference between “good people” and “bad people”, and they only eat the bad people. This led me to believe, that at some point, the crocodiles have in fact attacked a human… or two.

Today was the 50th Anniversary of Burkina Faso’s independence (Burkina’s 4th of July). Interestingly enough, they do not celebrate the anniversary today, but in December… December 11th to be exact. Why, you ask? Good question. The calendar of everything in Burkina, as most West African countries, is based on the seasonal calendar. They only have 2 seasons here- the rainy season and the dry season. During the rainy season, people do not go to school, they do not work at regular jobs, they do not attend meetings… all they do is work in the fields. The school year, which runs October through May, occurs during the dry season. When the rains come, it’s all hands on deck. Their independence day falls in the middle of the rainy season, so they designated a new day, in the dry season, to celebrate their independence each year. Anyway, today, in honor of this, we had a small session on the culture of Burkina, and then all of our LCF’s (Language & Cultural Facilitators), sang the national anthem of Burkina.

For those of you who are curious, here is a small summary of the history of Burkina Faso. In 1895, the country, known at that time as Upper Volta, was attached to the French West African colonies, Afrique Occidentale Franҫaise. In 1932, a decree suppressed the territory and divided it between Niger, Mali, and the Ivory Coast. In 1958, a new constitution was adopted and Maurice Yaméogo became the first Chairman of the Republic. In 1960, he signed an agreement to end colonization in Upper Volta, and on August 5th, there was a proclamation of their independence. Between the years of 1960 and today, the republic experienced all types of government systems, including democracy, dictatorship and autocracy. In 1966, the people of Upper Volta were displeased with Yaméogo’s rule, and he, peacefully, dismissed himself. After this, General Sangoulé Lamizana took power, and ruled until 1980 when there was a coup d’etat. Colonel Saye Zerbo seized power with the help of young army officers. In 1982, there was another coup d’etat, conducted by Thomas Sankara who was previously the Minister of Information. Commandant Dr. Jean Baptiste Ouédraogo was in power from 1982-1983. He currently owns a medical practice in the capital, Ouagadougou. The government had Thomas Sankara arrested because of “difference of opinions.” He was released shortly after with the help of Blaise Compaoré. In 1983, through (yet another) coup d’etat, Thomas Sankara and his newly created National Council of the Revolution took power of the country. In 1984, Sankara changed the name of the country, the national anthem, the flag, and anything else associated with the French colonization. Upper Volta became Burkina Faso (translated to “Country of the Upright People”), and their new moto became, “Fatherland and death, we’ll overcome.” In 1987, Thomas Sankara was murdered and Blaise Compaoré came to power. He was then reelected in 1991, 1998, 2005, and (probably)November 2010.

One of my most favorite things about West Africa is Bissap. I’ve written about this drink a few times in various blogs and letters, but I’m not sure if I ever took the time to really describe it. The Bissap in Guinea, like most things, was not as good as it is in Burkina. In Guinea, I liked it, but didn’t drink it often. In Burkina, my host mom prepares it for me daily! It’s a great summer drink (or if you’re in Burkina, a year round drink), and really good frozen too! This past weekend, I asked my host mom if she could show me how to prepare it. She was really excited and rushed off to the market to buy the ingredients. I found out that all the ingredients used to make Bissap are available in the US, so I figured I would share my host mom’s recipe (which is much better than most!). Here’s a little taste of Burkina:

Ingredients

1 ½ cups dried hibiscus leaves

A few sprigs of fresh mint leaves

1 liter water

¼ kg of sugar

½ tsp pineapple extract

Directions

Combine water, hibiscus and mint. Boil for 10 minutes. Let cool for 10 minutes. Strain. Strain again. Add sugar and mix well. Add pineapple extract. Serve chilled or over ice.

Hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

(PS… sorry about the metric measurements)

So, we’ve moved for the 5th time since being in this country. It’s getting a little tiring living out of a bag, so I was happy when we finally moved to our current training site. I also received my new host family, which for the count is my 4th host family in West Africa. Like my site, I lucked out. Because there are 80 people in my stage, it was difficult to find 80 new host families in a week. So we’re living with another stagiare for the rest of home stay. Luckily, I got a good roommate!

My new host mom works as a health agent, which I think is kind of like a nurse, and my host dad does the budget for the mayor’s office. They have 2 younger children and 2 extended family members who live here as well. In Burkina, it’s normal for extended family to live together. It is often time younger girls who will do the work for the family, like cleaning, cooking, and laundry. This is especially common in families where the mom works.

Our first night here, the family turned on the TV and started flipping through the channels. Then, they stopped at MTV and watched “Run’s House”. I couldn’t believe it! Then they flipped over to CNN so we could watch the news. At the same time, my host dad was surfing the internet… here, in the house! This never happens! I think we have stepped out of Peace Corps and are now in Posh Corps!

One of the most exciting times of stage is site announcement, which is when you find out your home for the next two years. The trainers drew a huge map of Burkina on the ground with stars marking our future sites. I stood there blind-folded imagining what type of site I will have, and I couldn’t help but think of my little village in Guinea. For those of you who don’t remember, I lived in an extremely small village in a mud hut without electricity or running water. This was pretty much the stereotypical Peace Corps experience. The life there was easy, but I was really hoping to get some amenities in my new site.

So, back to the Burkina map. The trainers led us one by one to our future sites, still blind folded. I was trying to determine how far I walked to guess where my site would be, and peak out the side of my blind fold to see who my future neighbors would be. Then, the grand reveal! My future site is …

“The Place of Excellent Fruit”!

At this point I would tell you the name of my town, but because of security reasons, we are not allowed to publish this. But, my new site could not be more different (in a good way) from my site in Guinea. I live in a decent size town, and will have 2 sitemates (other Peace Corps volunteers in the same town as me). I live in the part of the country where it rains a lot, so the climate is much cooler and everything is green. Also, as the name would suggest, there is fruit everyday, for the entire year… oranges, bananas, mangoes! Yum! And exciting news, I not only have electricity, but running water! I have an entire bathroom, including a working toilet and shower! Yayy! When you walk into my house, there is a large salon (like a living room and kitchen combined). Then, there is my room and a guest room (Mom & Dad get ready!)

In my town, there is everything I could need. I have a small daily market, and a huge market every Saturday. There are boutiques that sell everything from cold drinks to yogurt to toilet paper. Like I said, everything I need haha.

When I was there, an older woman adopted me as her child then fed me dinner. She brought out catepillars and rice... welcome to Burkina haha.

There are 3 high schools in my town. I will be working at the Lycee Municipal, which is the small high school for students who live in my town. Unfortunately, because it’s smaller, there are less resources available. I will be teaching biology, math and english. My sitemate will be teaching at the other high school, Lycee Provinicial, which is a huge school for students who live in surrounding areas. His school just got a grant to purchase their first 10 computers, so he will be teaching IT there.

In the region that my site is in, there are also a lot of great things. There are waterfalls, lakes with hippo tours, and huge mountains for hiking. And, I only live one hour from a huge city. So, all in all, I think I got a great site! I’m so excited about living there.

A small side note: This is not related to my site, but is really exciting. Burkina has the largest elephant population in West Africa! One of the volunteers in my group is living down in the eastern part of the country, which is literally on a wildlife preserve. He was in a taxi driving to his site, when the taxi stopped and he didn’t know why. He looked up and there was a herd of elephants crossing the road!

So for the time being, I have cell phone reception, and would really love phone calls :) I know it's rather expensive to call Africa haha, but I believe skype is rather cheap. Talk to my parents to find out how to use it! Anyway, here's my new info:

Phone Number: (226- Country Code) 74 29 03 18

Skype: sara.burroughs1

I'm 4 hours ahead (of PA time).

Training in Ouahigouya was going along pretty well. We were in the process of peer teaching and learning French. I was supposed to begin my local language training, Jula, this week. Then… I found myself in an all too familiar situation.

We (all the stagiares) were called to a community meeting, which normally would not be alarming, but in this case, they started off taking roll… of all 100 people. Then, the Safety & Security Officer of Peace Corps/Burkina Faso walked in and said he had an important announcement. I knew nothing good was coming. They announced that a warden message from the state department was issued for Burkina. You can read the message below:

U.S. Embassy Ouagadougou issued the following Warden Message on June 7:

The U.S. Embassy in Ouagadougou is issuing this Warden Message to update U.S. citizens resident in Burkina Faso on the security situation in northern Burkina Faso. This is a further update to the information relayed on June 5, 2010.

The U.S. Embassy has information that Al Qa’ida in the Land of the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM) plans to kidnap an unspecified group of U.S. citizens working on a humanitarian project in a village located in northeastern Burkina Faso near the Mali-Niger-Burkina Faso borders. In addition, the U.S. Embassy has declared the area north of the road stretching from Djibo to Dori off limits to official government travelers unless prior authorization for such travel is expressly given. U.S. citizens are strongly urged to avoid travel to this region.

They continued on to say that we would be evacuated from Ouahigouya to the capital, Ouagadougou immediately. EVACUATED?!?!?!? Again?? Yes! I know! This is a little too much for me (and Ali & Zach, the other Guinea evacuee’s who are with me here) to handle. We all started crying. This says a lot considering that all three of us went through this once before and never cried. It sucks.

We were locked down in a secure place in Ouahigouya for the night… without any of our things. We left straight from training so the most useful (… or useless) thing I had with me was my French Dictionary and a bottle of sunscreen. Damn. So for the next four days I (nor none of the other stagiares) had deodorant, soap, or a toothbrush. It was a long … and smelly 3 hour bus ride to the capital. The Peace Corps drivers were supposed to go around to all of our houses to collect our belongings. I hoped all my things would make it to me, but was prepared for nothing to make it. I’m happy to announce that all my things made it!

I am now living safely and comfortably in a hotel in Ouagadougou for an unknown amount of time. They say that we will continue our training here this week, which looks hopeful for the stagiares. The Peace Corps/Burkina Faso staff and Country Director are highly qualified and competant. They are devoted to our safety and I feel secure in placing my security in their hands. This threat only affects a small region of Burkina Faso, which, obviously, is off limits to all Peace Corps volunteers. I’m hoping this will only be a small bump in the road, and we will be able to continue training as scheduled.

On a brighter note… the staff is throwing us a 4th of July party tomorrow! There will be swimming, hamburgers and cake… a real American holiday hahah. I am looking forward to this!

In other news, this whole situation, obviously, reminded me of Guinea. So, I would like to announce that they, peacefully, held their primary presidential elections yesterday. There were 2 front runners chosen and the main elections are scheduled for a month from now. Hopefully these continue without any problems… inshallah.

So, I’ve been here for about two weeks now, and training is really starting to pick up. We’re starting peer teaching next week, where we prepare one lesson and give different parts and varying lengths to our peers. My topic is “The Importance of Superior Vegetables”, whi ch is a pretty easy lesson. I plan on bringing in different items made from plant parts. For example, tô, which is a staple meal here made from corn, or bissap, which is a drink made from hibiscus flowers (and is really good!).

In other news, the new stagiares arrived today. This makes our stage the largest Burkina Faso has ever seen, and is single handedly doubling the total number of volunteers in country. For those of you confused about this, we (secondary education volunteers) arrived 2 weeks prior to the rest of the sectors because our training is longer. The new stagiares work in the following sectors: girls education and empowerment, health, and small enterprise development. This brings the grand total of stagiares to about 80! This is a lot of white people running around one small Burkinabe city. This will seriously affect their economy here for a few months. I’m really glad I came first with the smaller group because it’s much easier to be introduced to a new country with only 22 people, rather than 60. We had a nice amount of time to get to know each other, and to discover our way around Ouahigouya.

So, very similar to Guinea, small children here are get really excited about white people. They chase after us on our bikes, wave, and yell “Bonjour!”. The word here for white person is Nasara, so this is something I hear quite often, and actually respond to ha. In this culture, it is not dispectable to call someone a name refering to their skin color/race. It is actually more of a compliment. I was fully prepared for this, but one thing I never heard in Guinea are children calling me “Le Blanche” (The White). It was a little bizarre at first, but then I found it kind of funny… I’m sure this will stop being funny soon though ha. I have a stagiare who lives directly next door to me, so in the morning I wait in front of her compound with my bike so we can ride to school together. Well, last week, a few of the neighborhood little kids started to notice this weird white person standing out there. One kid was scared and ran away, but the others were intrigued. After they realized I was harmless, they started to like me. Now, in the morning while I wait, these kids line up, salute me, and yell at the same time, “Bonjour, Le Blanche!” (Good morning, the white!).

So, the most amazing/crazy/bizarre thing happened today. We were sitting in a panel discussion talking about the importance of women’s education in Burkina when we noticed the sky started turning dark. It looked like the sky before a thunderstorm, so I assumed it meant rain. I was super excited about this because when it rains, which isn’t very often here, it cools the temperatures down a lot! The next thing I know, the sky turned reddish-orange. I’m not talking a light orange sky like we sometimes have in America. I’m talking burnt-sienna (thanks crayola), and then the wind started to pick up and we were in a full fledge dust storm! We had to go inside the building because there was dust everywhere. We couldn’t breathe or see through all the dust! This lasted about 30 minutes or so, then the sky started to clear and the storm stopped. I left my bedroom window open that day, and when I returned home after school my entire room was covered in a red layer of dust. All my books, clothes, and bed were covered. That’s the last time I leave my window open for the Harmattan!

I landed in Burkina, my new home for the new two years, about a week and a half ago. It’s been crazy, busy, and exciting starting Peace Corps all over again. We had our staging (a Peace Corps orientation) in Philadelphia and it only lasted about 5 hours. It was almost the exact same set up as last time. We discussed the goals and purposes of Peace Corps, our anxieties and anticipations, and did a few awkward ice breakers. For those of you who do not know, Peace Corps has three main goals, which they base a volunteers service upon. They are:

1. Filling the need of trained people to interested countries

2. Teaching other countries about America and it’s people

3. Teaching Americans about other countries

These are just summarized in my own words, but I’m sure you get the point. The main focus of the goals in cross-cultural exchange. This is an important part of a volunteer’s service. This allows us to integrate into communities and successfully do our job here. Integration is also a key factor in our safety here. If we can successfully integrate into our communities and become a respected member, life here will be much easier, and funner, for a two year service.

After staging, we headed off to Burkina. The entire trip took about one whole day, and was successfully completed without any problems. We were greated in Ouagadougou Airport by our new country director, Shannon, and a few members of the Peace Corps/Burkina Faso Staff. Shannon handed us a short itinerary for the next few days, which I didn’t really look at too much. It wasn’t until later that night I noticed the cover of it said “Bienvenue! Welcome to “the land of the upright people!”. Almost two weeks later, I still don’t know the story behind this, or why Burkina was named that. It would have made my service much more diifficult had I came to a country where the people were pre-homo erectus! Hah!

Anyway, our first few days in Burkina, we stayed in a pretty sweet hotel. They had AC, and served us ice cream for lunch! This is huge in Africa. We had a lot of introductory sessions, and met a lot of the new staff. We also started the huge task of vaccinating everyone. Thanks to my time in Guinea, I already had all but 2 shots. Woohoo! Everyone else will be receiving about 15. Burkina has the same language requirements as Guinea, which means by the end of the three months of training, everyone must test at an intermediate-high level in French. As you all remember, last year, I knew no French and tested at a level of novice-low (the lowest level there is). Apparently all my hard work paid off because I tested this time at Intermediate-High on the first test! This means that I will be taking review and practice sessions of French for the first four weeks, which is when we receive the name of the site where we will live. At this point, I will stop taking French and begin taking classes in the local language at my site, which is called Jula. I’m pretty excited about this, and proud of myself for remembering that much French! This is a huge weight off my shoulders.

After our days in Ouagadougou, we went to the city where we will be living for our training for the next few months, called Ouahgouya. This town is also pretty nice. It has internet connection (although it’s slow and doesn’t work very well… it’s still internet!), electricity everyday, and a hotel with a pool.

Last week, I moved in with my host family, the Traore’s. My experience with them so far is much different than in Guinea! My family in Guinea, the Fofana’s was more of what I would consider a traditional African family. There were a lot of children, and my host mother stayed home most of the time and did house work, while my father went to work. My new family is not like that at all. My host parents just got married last year, so they are still a young couple, and don’t have any children yet. Although my host mom did tell me she wants to have at have 10 haha. My father works at pretty big bank that is in 6 west african countries and France, and my mother does small loans for the market women (at least that’s the best understanding I had of her work with my not so great French). They both work a lot, so I’m usually home with my 2 cousins that are staying here, Aissatou and Rashidatou. I think my parents are pretty well off though because we have satellite TV and I have a fan in my room, so I’m not complaining haha.

Another thing I’m rather excited about are the bikes. Now in Guinea, my bike was broken for the entire time I was there. I rode it once for about 5 minutes, then got a flat tire and pushed it back home. Now, in Burkina, there are brand spankin’ new bikes for everyone! I was a little nervous at first about having to rely so heavily on biking as my main mode of transportation, but now I’m getting used to it. I bike everywhere. I live about 2-3 miles from our training center so I bike to and from school everyday, as well as lunch, and anywhere else I have to do. It’s nice and relaxing… when it’s not 100°F and I’m sweating my butt off.

I cannot believe this time is here again. I'm leaving on Monday... only 4 days away!! The time is dwindling fast. Today was my last day of work, and now I have a busy weekend of goodbye's and packing. Although I must say, I am significantly more prepared this year than last year (my Dad is thanking me for this haha).

Last year, I did not pack one thing until the day before I left. I sat in my room for 6 hours with Hannah and Gab trying to figure how do you pack for a 2 year trip to Africa?!? Well, it didn't go too well because my poor Dad was woken up by a sobbing me at 1am asking him to help me pack. All he said was, "I was only half sleeping because I knew this was going to happen." Hahah.. thank god for that man or I would have had a nervous breakdown and ended up going to Guinea with nothing (although I must admit, i was quite upset when he took out all 30 lbs of my snacks, homemade popcorn, and drink mixes hahah). So this year, he informed me about 3 weeks ago to start packing because he didn't want a repeat of last year. I took his advice, and now I'm all packed with 4 days and 20 lbs to spare :) Much less stressful and no tears!

Other than packing, I've been enjoying all things American. This includes lots of margaritas, french fries, and hamburgers. I've been using the excuse that I'm going to Africa to eat and drink whatever I want haha. It's been wonderful.

I've found out a little bit more information about my training group. I'm leaving on June 7 with 21 other people who are all education volunteers. I know there are science and IT volunteers, but I'm not sure what other types there are. About 2 weeks after we leave, another group of about 60 volunteers, including health, small enterprise development, and girls empowerment, will be joining us in Burkina (including Ali!). This will be a huge group.. about 80 in total, compared to my 17 from Guinea.

I'm trying to go into this situation open-minded, but it's hard for me to not compare every aspect of this situation to Guinea. I loved my group (G-18) last year, and I wish they were all joining me in Burkina Faso. I've already been through staging and pre-service training once, so I know what to expect... kind of. I'm looking forward to it, but also dreading it. I know the trainers will pull out the dreaded flip charts and markers. And of course, we will do skits... these are the parts I would prefer if I could skip haha. But on the other hand, I'm excited to meet the new group and learn about Burkina. I'm, surprisingly, even looking forward to my new host family (although, I doubt they could compare to the wonderful Fofana family).

Well, I must get back to packing up my bedroom, but 4 days.. OMG! I look forward to getting everyone's letters haha. But no seriously, please mail me letters!!

Today, I am officially a Peace Corps Volunteer, and i start my 2 year service here .. woohoo! I made it! In there ceremony today, the U.S. Ambassador was there, and a few other Guinean officials. The ambassador gave an amazing speech telling about how as a child, he lived in Africa and grew up around PC volunteers, and how he has learned so much from volunteers over the years. He also quoted Obama's inagural speech about choosing hope over fear. Then, we gave four speeches.. one in each of the local languages and French. Two hours later.. I am a volunteer :)

So much has happened since the last time I've blogged..

First, Site Visit.

Site visit was my first real experience in Guinea and with Guinean travel and all the hassle involved. We left Counterpart workshop in a PC vehicle and headed out to our regional capital where we were warmly greeted by pizza and cookies. In Guinea, pizza and cookies are gold. We stayed here for a few days, then all departed with our nearest Volunteer to visit our sites. I traveled with another stagiare who lives near me and our volunteer. First, we headed off to the site of the other stagiare first. We were dropped off at the local gare (taxi station) to find a taxi to this region. In America, this seems like it woud be an easy task; in Guinea, not so easy. The taxi we took was a van a little bit bigger than the mini vans in America. This could normally hold about 10 people. In Guinea, this car holds 30 inside and 5 on the roof. We were literally crammed in there like sardines. So, we travelling down the "road" (and by road I mean, a dirt path full of huge ditches and marshes and streams that have flooded the path), when things kept falling out from under the van. I immediately knew this would be a long trip. Eventually, the driver stops, all 30 of us get out of the van so they can fix it. The best idea they had was to find a rock in the shape of a triangle and try to drive the van on top of the rock to jack up the van. Obviously, this didn't work and 30 minutes later, we all get back into the van and continue on our way. A few hours later, we stop again. This time we all have to get out of the van with our bags and traverse a river that has flooded the road and meet the van on the other side of the river. At first, I thought this was a joke, but as it turns out, this is quite common here. So I traverse the river with the help on a nice gentleman who clearly knew this "Fote" didn't know what to do and knew I was a little pathetic. I make it to the other side and meet the van and we continued on our merry way. About 8 hours of being squished into this van with 30 Guineans and listening to loud Guineana music, we finally make it to our destination. We stayed at the stagiare's hut for 2 days and then continued to my site. Now, his site and my site are about 40 kilometers away.. not a far distance, so this trip should not be difficult, but it's Guinea. Taxis only leave the town on one day, and unfortunately it wasn't the day we needed. So we find a taxi that's taking the local women to a market in the middle of our sites and get a ride with them. Then, there were no taxis traveling from the market to my site until 5 pm (we arrived at 8am), so we had to sit around all day until a taxi is leaving. Luckily, we talked one driver into taking us the rest of the way. He was less than happy about this, and I soon found out why. The road to get to my site is the worst road in Guinea. We start driving down this road, I look at the temperature gauge on the dashboard and see that the needle is way above the red zone. Then, I look around to see that the gas is being siphoned into the engine by a huge bucket near my foot. I should have known then, it would be interesting. About 20 minutes into the drive, the van door flies off. The driver doesn't seem alarmed by this. He stops the van, sends the little kids to fetch the door, then we tie it on with a string, and continue the journey. About 10 minutes after this, the van gets stuck in a huge mud pile. A few locals passing by stopped to help try and push it out. This didn't work and about 5 minutes later, the van died. So we get our backpacks and continue on foot the rest of the way to my site .. in the african heat, with no water. We finally make it to my site, which was absolutely gorgeous. It is like a scene out of a movie. My village is in a valley surrounded by mountains and there's a huge river that runs through the town. I met my principal there and he introduced me to the important people in the town, inlcuding the sous-prefet (the mayor) and the important group of wise, old men. After this, I eventually make it to my hut. Once again, it's like a scene out of a movie. I live in a compound with about 5 other huts and a family. My hut has a thatched area out front and a nice fenced in backyard area. I still can't believe I will be living in a hut for the next 2 years of my life. I also have a window in my hut, which is a huge plus! After spending a few days here, we head back to the regional capital. This time the PC car picked us up, so nothing too interesting or crazy happened. That's the end of the crazy things that happened on site visit. It was perfect little taste of what real Guinea is like when we are outside of the safe PC net.

Second, Practice School.

Ok, back in the training village, we made it more than halfway through stage and began Practice School. This was a 3 week long session, basically like summer school. Students from the village would come out and we would practice teaching. This was by far the most helpful thing I've done in stage. I was able to practice by French, practice the new, foreign names, and be able to teach, give tests, and grade, like I would in real school. The first week, I taught 7th grade and 10th grade. The second and third week, I taught 8th and 9th grade. The students were very smart and very excited about advancing and learning. At the end of Practice School, we had an awards ceremony to award the top 3 students and the top female from each grade. I was in charge of the grades for 7th grade, and I'm proud to say that my top 2 students were both girls. This is a huge accomplishment here.

The last day in the training village, we were supposed to do a talent show. Of course, you know me with all my talents I was ecstatic for this ... just kidding. So, as a group, all 17 of us decided to do a human pyramid and that was it. So, about 20 minues before this talent show is supposed to start, the cross-cultural coordinator takes me aside and tells me he wants me to sing a native song in Malinke (the language in the Haute, Guinea) for the talent show. There are so many problems with this, I don't even know where to start. Not to mention, I can't sing, but I've also only studied Malinke for 2 hours. But, I agree to it. I get up and sing this song that you sing to your family when saying goodbye. This was, by far, one of the most embarassing moments here. After the talent show is over, the coordinator tells me I did a great job (lie), everyone loved it (another lie), and now he wants me to sing it at our going away ceremony and at our swearing-in ceremony. Crap. Not to mention, the swearing-in ceremony is not only broadcasted across the national radio here, but also television. Oh man, my life here is hilarious.

Well, 3 months later, I've made it through training. I've become fluent in French, and I've become relatively comfortable living the daily life in Guinea. Today is my last day as a trainee, and tomorrow, I swear-in as an official U.S. Government employee, and the newest Peace Corps volunteer in Guinea. Next week, I'm off to my mud hut to start my life for the next two years here. Wish me luck.

An be koffe (Malinke for "See you Later")

Love, Sara :)

PS... PICTURES ARE UPDATED!!!

Hey everyone!

I just uploaded my pictures so far to snapfish.

Here is the link ... http://www2.snapfish.com/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=1200049022/a=1579671022_1579671022/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/

Hope you enjoy :)

Hey everyone!

Right now, I'm at the counterpart workshop in the "Fouta" region of Guinea. The counterpart workshop is the time when we meet the person responsible for us while we are at our sites. In most cases, the counterpart is the principal of the school. My principal, Mr. Sidibe, is really excited for me to come to the school. I am the fifth volunteer at this site, but the first education volunteer there. The school has five teachers, I am the sixth teacher, and also the only female. Tenatively, I will be teaching 7th and 8th grade math. Mr. Sidibe also wants me to teach 10th grade English, which I will probably do after I am at site for a few months and am used to everything. My classes will most likely have anywhere from 50-100 students per class. Mr. Sidibe was insistant that I allow all children into the class, no matter what time they arrive because most will be walking 1-2 hours to get to the school. Can you imagine American children having to walk that long to get to school... no way! I know I never would have, then again, you all know how lazy I am hah. The school we're staying at for the workshop is beautiful. It's some type of environmental school. We're here for three days, then we are leaving to head off to our sites for a week to visit.

Guinea is a really beautiful country, and has all the typical regions you would imagine when you think of Africa. The regions are Basse Cote, Fouta, Forest, and Haute. The Basse Cote is relatively mild temperatures and a mixture and with vegeation somewhat similar to the states. This is the region where we are staying at for training. The Fouta is absolutely gorgeous, and this is where we are staying right now for Counterpart Workshop. There are waterfalls, mountains, and everything is green and beautiful. I have amazing pics from the drive here.. I hope I can get them downloaded so you can see. The Forest is exactly what you think it would be .. tropical rain forests with animals, like elephants and chimps. This region has been closed for Peace Corps since 2000 but is reopening now with my stage. The people there are really excited to have Peace Corps back in their region. And finally, the Haute, which I'm know I talked about before because this is the region I will be living in. It's desert-like and really hot. I can tell you more after I visit next week.

This week, alot of the smaller children in my host family are leaving for vacation.. until October. This seems to be a common thing here. Children leave for a few months during the summer to stay with other members of the family in other parts of Guinea. Before I left, I gave out alot of the toys I brought with me. This was interesting because all the kids took one toy. Then inevitably, they all started crying and fighting because they wanted each others toys and there weren't enough for each to have their own. They didn't like the idea of sharing, but my host mom put them in their place real quick. Then, I had to try to explain to them in French how to play games, like Uno and jacks. It was interesting to say the least, and I really don't think they understood the point of most of the games.

In the markets here, the clothing they sell is all from Goodwill. Things that Americans don't want and don't buy, they send over to Africa and sell here. Needless to say, you see some interesting tee shirts here. I've seen a few with sayings like "I like boobs", or a 12 year old kid with a tee shirt that says "World's Best Grandpa". They have no clue what the shirts say, and it's pretty hilarious. The people here refer to the places that sell these American clothes as "The Dead White People Store" because they can't understand why white people would give away their clothes, so they assumer the clothing comes from dead people. Imagine me and my horrible french trying to explain to my family that this isn't the case here haha.

Life the past few weeks has flown by. I've been in a city named Forecariah for staging (pre-service training). I live with a family there who is really nice and very educated. All stagiares take the name of their host family. My name is Mahawaa Ava Fofana. Both of my host parents are teachers, and my host father is also a principal. They have about 12 children, most of which are older. The older students are studying at the University. I lucked out because my family speaks very good French and some English as well. Forecariah is a very nice town. It is much smaller than Conakry, the first city we were in. All the people there are very nice and always willing to help out their local "Fote". We still train everyday from 8am-5pm, which makes the time fly by.

There isn't much variety on food here. My family gives me rice and sauce everday for dinner, and for breakfast, i eat bread with butter or peanut butter and tea. For lunch, we (the other stagiares and myself) eat in the village.. either in the cafe nearby or in the market. The options are usually egg sandwiches with cheese and mayonaisse, brochettes (which are an unknown type of meat on a kabob then put into a sandwich), rice and sauce, fruits and vegetables, and bread with peanut butter. They have really great vegetables here. I eat alot of avocadoes and cucumbers.

I recently found out where my site will be after training. It's in the region of Guinea called the "Haute". It borders the country of Mali. Haute Guinea is known for being extremely hot and desert-like. One volunteer in that region told me that the hottest temperature she saw there was 142 degrees! Most volunteers in the Haute sleep outside at night because it's so hot.. thank god for my mosquito- net hammock! I will be the 5th Peace Corps volunteer at this site, but the first education volunteer. The other volunteers were all Agroforestry. On the information paper they gave me about my site, it said my hut has a chicken coop, a garden, and a place available for bee-keeping. I guess I'll have to learn how to do these things. In a few weeks, we'll be going to visit our sites for a week, so more details to come when I arrive.

Last week, I killed my first chicken. I have to say, it went better than expected. One person holds down the chicken, while another person cuts off the head. I was the holder of the chicken, which sounds like a better job, except after the head is cut off, blood sprays everywhere and the headless chicken flaps around and I have to hold it down. I have to admit, it was one of the best chickens I ever ate.

I'm going to try to upload some pictures now before my time at the internet cafe expires. But thanks for everyone following me and my adventures here! I'd love to get mail of any type! Anyone interested in calling can get my phone number from my parents.

I've been in Guinea for about 5 days, and so far, so good. Although, we have been somewhat sheltered because we've pretty much only been in the Peace Corps compound so far. The city we're in, Conakry, is exactly how it is sterotyped in the movies.. crazy, dirty, no sewage/trash system, little children (often naked) running around. My big adventure since we're been here was go to the local market with the previous volunteers who know their way around. It was chaotic and all the trainees and myself returned a little scared and culture shocked. They sell everything there from food to shoes to microwaves.. anything you need! While we were out walking around, the groups of african children yell "Fote! Fote" at us, meaning "white person, white person" and another kid got scared and starting crying when he saw all of us. All you can really do it laugh at it. Our compound is literally right on the beach, it's a beautiful scene, but unfortunately, the entire beach is covered with trash, so you can't really go on the beach and definately not in the water. You're just asking for diarrhea if you do that.

We've had alot of training so far, we're training 8-5 daily, which is about 4 - 1.5 hour sessions, 3 meals, and a few tea breaks. The sessions cover everything from how to speak french, how to speak the local language (called Susu, and no, it doesn't involve clicks haha), safety, cross cultural training, and other things like that. Today, we learned how to squat to poop into a pit latrine and how to wash your butt with your hand and to use a water can to rinse it off... always a good tool to have hah.

I have to say, I'm already sick of the food and miss american fast food (gabs, you know i miss this haha). For breakfast we have a baguette with peanut butter, jelly and butter, and a hard boiled egg with tea or coffee. For lunch, we have rice with different types of sauce, usually something red and spicy. I really don't know what it is. For dinner, we have rice and sauces again, but with meat. It seems in africa they have 2 kinds of meat.. fish or "viande" (french for meat), so I often have no idea what the "meat" is. The fish is a whole fish (head, scales, and teeth!) usually floating in the sauce. I am still a little scared of the meat, but I eat it anyway and it's usually good.. besides the occasional bone.

Tomorrow, I am headed off to a different city about 2-3 hours away from here to start our homestay portion of the training. I haven't met my family yet, so I have no idea what I'm in store for. We have our adoption ceremony tomorrow afternoon, then tomorrow night, I am off to live with a family for 3 months that I don't know and won't really be able to speak to. And i'll be pooping in a pit latrine and showering in a bucket. I'm excited though, and I can't wait to learn more and see more of the country.

That's pretty much the last few days of my life here. In the homestay village, there is no internet, so I'll be without internet for the next 3 months. I'll keep this updated and email everyone when I get a chance. Until then, write me letters :)

I miss and love everyone!

Today, I left into my first day. I said my last goodbyes to the people who matter to me most, and headed off to Philly. I'm here for staging where I met the other volunteers in my group, who are all great! We had a 4 hour orientation, where we covered the basics, like peace corps goals, policies, and then travel info for tomorrow. It was alot of group work, skits, and that kind of stuff, which I'm overall, not a big fan of, but it helped to meet the other volunteers. After that, we all met for a "last supper", which ended up being at a cuban restaurant near the hotel and then we headed off to the bar for a last drink in America (thanks Yik!). I surprised because I don't feel any bit nervous, only excited. I know this will be a really challenging 2 years, but it will be worth it in the end. I can't wait to head off tomorrow for the 24 hours of travel ahead of me to get to Guinea.

I love & miss everyone!

On Saturday, my amazing friends and family threw me a going away party. We thought it would be a fun idea to dress up and this was our attempt to dress as Africans ha. Some people's outfits were more similar to biblical figures or romans haha, but it was a great time! I have some of the most amazing friends anyone can ask for and I will miss them so much while I am gone!

I've had an overwhelming amount of support from my friends and especially my family. I wanted to take a minute to thank everyone who has helped me out. I am truly lucky to have all these amazing people in my life who will support me and my dreams no matter what!

A special thank you to :

My Mom & Dad

Grandma Kathy

Grandpa Bob & Jean

Aunt Judy

Uncle Tom & Aunt Rita

Uncle Tom & Aunt Kathleen

Sue Saccuto

Lorie Rettew

Joe & Susie Malavolta

My wonderful co-workers at Great Valley OB-GYN

Grandpa Ron & Kay

Thank you!!

Hello everyone and thanks for following my adventures in Africa! This week I received my invite to officially become a Peace Corps volunteer. My invite is for Guinea, Africa, where I will be teaching secondary math (eeek.. I have catch up on my math skills!). Not only will I be teaching math, but it will be in French... talk about a challenge! But, I am truly excited to become a volunteer and submerge myself in the Guinean culture! I wonder what life will be like with no running water or electricity? I will be leaving on July 6th to Philadelphia for staging, which is like a Peace Corps orientation, then on July 8th for Guinea! I only have a month and a half to prepare for this amazing trip of a lifetime!