Peace Corps Journals

[Guinean news] Top govt official charged in 2009 stadium massacre

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea News from Guinea and Friends of Guinea

2012-02-09 19:07:00

A Guinean court has charged a top government official for his alleged role in the infamous September 28, 2009 massacre at Conakry's main sports stadium. Colonel Moussa Tiegboro Camara, the current secretary of state in charge of fighting organized crime, faces accusations over the killing of scores of protesters and mass rape of women. More than 150 people were killed and over 100 women raped, according to Human Rights Watch, and the massacre galvanized opposition to military rule which eventually led to democratic elections in 2010.

I am a Peace Corps Volunteer!!

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Heart. Soul. Guinea

2012-02-08 14:34:43

Yup. That is right. I am officially a Peace Corps volunteer! After 9 weeks, I am done with training and officially starting my 2-year service. It is crazy to believe that this is really the beginning of what has already felt like a long process. I feel like in African time, you add an extra 2 months to every month that passes by, that is how often I feel like I have been in this country.

So, the final days of training felt really weird. It was like high school graduation. I started to feel the reality of our departure to our sites and the expectations that have been placed on us. Everyone was able to finish up all the projects and activities, studied up their French and start packing up their stuff for what felt like the 9 million time in the last 3 months. Just a side note, living out of a suitcase is no fun. I really hate it. But anyway, we also really enjoyed ourselves the last few days of training. We had a talent show that included both American and Guinean acts. Some Guinean drummers and dancers preformed and were fantastic. The group of public health preformed a salsa number, which was awesome and our language trainers made a parody of us, which was hilarious and very accurate…unfortunately. Overall, it was a great time and even better since my host mom came and enjoyed herself too. The end of training also gave us homemade granola, yogurt and a lovely gift, all from Kristine of course. During our last session of training, Kristine showered us with delicious food and a map of Guinea, as a gift to remind us that wherever we go, to go with our hearts. It was a really nice sentiment, and a fantastic way to conclude training. On the last day in Dubreka, we had a farewell ceremony with our families. It is so funny what a difference 9 weeks can make. We had our farewell ceremony in the same place as our adoption ceremony 9 weeks earlier, and it all looked so different. I feel like Dubreka is my home, and I know it better now than ever, so everything felt familiar and warm. During the adoption ceremony, I literally felt like puking out of nervousness to meet my host family, and now, I don’t want to leave them. Life really is funny; you never know what to expect. I will say, as I have said before, that my experience in Dubreka was wonderful, and Siguiri has a lot of work to do to try to match it. But, anyway, I was surprised by my family with the most beautiful dress ever and a purse made out of the fabric used for dresses!!! I was so awesome! My mother definitely knows my style. LOL. Anyway, I was surprised by the gift and they were surprised by my gifts. I gave my host brother a Guinea soccer team uniform; my cousin I gave some cosmetic products and a little mirror from America and my mom got a really lovely tablecloth from Italy (Thanks Mami) and some tea. I was super excited to give them their gifts and they were excited to receive it. My African mom and I have promised each other to call once a month to catch up and she also promised me that she would visit Siguiri within the year. I really hope she does. But anyway, back to the farewell ceremony, the whole thing was really bittersweet. It was going to be fun to head to Conakry hang out with everyone and start on this new life, but also, Dubreka is my first love in Africa. It is the city that calmed by fears about PC and helped me learn French and pass my language test (oh yeah!). It was really difficult to get on that bus after the ceremony with everyone as our families looked at us through the glass windows. I definitely wanted to cry. That safety and security of Dubreka was taken right under our feet, and I am still feeling the absence of it.

We all piled onto the bus for the last time, and made our way towards Conakry. Everyone was excited to be in Conakry, and everyone was ready to have a good time. On Thursday night, the CED volunteers were invited to Kristine’s house for a Mexican fiesta, which included real cheese and deliciousness. Kristine is just too kind to us. We all drank some delicious sangria and hang out with one other. It was lovely. The next day was the swearing –in ceremony, and everyone was all a buzz about it. When 3pm rolled around, we all put on our matching Guinean outfits (each sector matched each other), the girls got dolled up, and we headed to the back of the Conkary bureau where I saw an ocean of matching fabric, the American and Guinean flag standing side by side and many familiar faces of our trainers and facilitators. The ceremony itself was very formal with speeches from us in French, Malinke, Pular and Susu, a speech from Julie (our director) and a speech from Ambassador Moller. The best part though was the official oath that we each have to take with our right hand lifted. There were millions of cameras flashing at us from the Guinean press, our trainers and others as we recited the oath. After that, I actually did feel like a PCV instead of a PCT. After the actual ceremony, we took a million photos (I will upload some when I get a chance…that might be a while), ate a delicious meal and headed towards Julie’s pool for a nighttime pool party. I never, in a million years, imagine I would be swimming in a pool in Guinea. Due the unexpected nature of a pool in Guinea and because I come from Florida where pool culture is huge, I was beyond thrilled. Everyone had a good time swimming, chatting and dancing. We definitely had a reason to celebrate, and we took total advantage of having a pool and a nice house to hang out in.

The next few days weren’t anything special. Some people tried to do some shopping in Conakry, which for the record, shopping in Guinea is very time-consuming, tiring and a negotiation every time to reduce the “American” price to things. It was a day of getting as many things as possible together. The following day everyone woke up to go to their respective regional capitals. It was really really sad to see everyone separate and go their own way. There was so many hugs, some tears and a sad last wave as each taxi car drove out of the gates of the Conakry house. The trip to Kankan on Sunday was extra long, and we didn’t get in until midnight when we left from Conakry at 9:30 pm. I know without a shadow of a doubt that I will not be returning to Conakry anytime soon…or ever in 2 years. It was an extremely long and strenuous trip. This third time was by far the worst. I was relieved to see the Kan Kan house when we finally did arrive. As for what I am doing here, I have been shopping for my supplies and things I will need at site, hanging out with the other 7 of us here, making food and watching some shows on my computer. I will be getting “instilled” (which is the term for getting to our sites officially) on Thursday. Not surprising to me anymore, I will be the last one in the group to do so. Everyone will get instilled a day or two earlier. So, how do I feel about this next step? Nervous and very anxious. This is it. This is what the training was all about. I will be embarking on this huge adventure with more problems than solutions and often more frustrations than rewards. I am trying my best to prepare myself mentally, but it is going to be an interesting and bumpy road, particularly with no Americans or the English language in sight. I hope it all goes well. As for my internet usage, keep in mind that my blog will not be updated on a weekly basis anymore. I have to figure out my internet situation in Siguiri and that may take some time. I will try to update my blog every 2-4 weeks. Sorry, but that is Africa for you.

Lastly, I wanted to end this blog with some things I have learned about PST and share some tips and tricks for any future trainees in Guinea.

What to bring in addition to the list that they give you:

Gift from home for host family (trust, you won’t regret it)
Envelopes and stamps (you will send at least one letter)
Pens (Pens here suck balls)
French books (it is a good reference if you are learning; bring a book about verbs and grammer)
Makeup (Girls, you will want to look pretty at times. Trust)
Nice clothes (For going out. I went out more in PST than in 6 months prior to leaving)
Organizational items (binders, notebooks, ect. You will get a lot of papers in PST)
Good smelly stuff (Lotions, body spray,ect)
Shorts for sleep (You will want to show your knees at times)
External Hard Drive (even if you are a fool at tech things, your fellow trainees will bring wonderful shows, movies, books and documents to share)

As far as any extra tips to give to future PCers in Guinea, just come into PST with an open mind, good attitude and a good sense of humor, especially a good sense of humor. You are going to meet some pretty awesome people in your group of trainees, along with some fabulous PC Guinea staff and a host family that you will love forever. I say this now from the other side of PST, so realize that like everything, it will take time to adjust (I am still adjusting now). Just take things as they come, one day at a time. So that is it for me. Like I said, internet will be spotty until I figure out a routine, but no worries, I will update you with everything once I get a chance. Wish me luck as I get instilled and during my first few weeks of service. I know it is going to be a rocky road, but I hope to come out of it a better person.

Bon Chance et Bon Courage,

Carolina

Musique

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea La Vie en Guinée

2012-02-07 22:57:00

For this post I thought I would just share a few of the most popular songs in Guinea right now. I love music; I love the way it makes people think, smile, cry, dance etc...Music seems to always be resonating the air waves of Guinea and if you can't feel the beats then you can't understand the atmosphere.

I don't really know how to go about finding more of the traditional music online to share with you. But here are a few of the songs that are very popular on Radio Kamsar right now (and that my family loves to dance to). On any given day, or any taxi ride or on the radio you're bound to hear these songs.

1. Makale - by Tiranke Sidime (Guinea). This song is often referred to as the unofficial Guinean national anthem. I doubt if I've gone one day in Guinea without hearing this song.

2. Nwa Baby -by Flavour (Nigeria). This song is not heard as often on the radio, but I dig the beats and it mostly makes me think of my little host brothers and sisters in Dubreka. They would sing the chorus of the song while dancing around our yard. I had never actually heard the song until I went to site, so now it always makes me think of them (though after seeing the music video I'm not so sure I want to associate this song with them...)

3. Désolé - by Sexion d'assaut (France). A favorite of mine and my little brothers at my site:

a handle bar mustache bandit rides into the sunset

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea the big cactus

2012-02-06 13:37:00

Yes. This is from THE DAY.

Iwatched Lukas as he stepped away from the podium having delivered his Swearing In “MUZUNGU!” speech. He had something or other about our role as proverbial Boda Men (and Women) asking people where they're going and how we can help them get there. I marinated on that for a minute and after several other event formalities we broke into fragments of small talk, photos, and hors d'ouvres.

It’s worth noting that this scenario now terrifies me. Small talk. I don’t know how to talk about much outside of literature, metaphysics,the doings and transpirings of The Group, and, well, poop.

(It was pencil thin, though completely solid, and verylightly colored the other day. Firsttime in two years it’s looked like this. It’s incredible!)

Anyways there I am in a linen suit peering through the fogof a hangover and out from a Beatle-ish mop top and over a handlebar mustachewhich I had carved the previous night. There I am. I saw the Ambassadorschmoozing his way in my direction. He paused,gave me a once over, extended his hand and said “When the going gets weird, theweird get going.” Yes sir they do. That is indeed what they do. It did get weird and we did get going and nowhere we are.

And we areweird. Really weird. Not unique, special, different or any othereuphemism. That would neuter thedescription. We’re weird.

Just agreeing to come here and do this whole thing is weird enough. Howmany of your friends took this ever so scenic route after college orretirement? Can you count them off onone hand? We are a self selectingbanditry of weirdness, as weird as a troop of monkeys. More weird than a troop of monkeys. We started out weird and for better or worsewe’ve gotten weirder.

For the worse we’ve become painfully frugal. I’ll just say flat out cheap. If it’s free we’ll eat it or drink it or packit home on the six hour bus ride. We’vedeveloped questionable hygiene practices. Like the opposite of immaculate…de-mamaculate if you will. We’ve pooped (see there it is again: pooptalk) on shoes, buses, river beds, caveras, and Lake Victorias. We’ve pooped in somany places and so many circumstances that hovering over a hole in the ground seems normal rather than cause célèbre. And after two years in the mosh pits thatpass for lines here, we often confuse boorishness with assertiveness; long ago havingdetermined dignity exchanged for “fairness”to be a reasonable bargain.

But our little band has become weirder for the better aswell. Perhaps you’ve become savvy to thecomplicated truths of the world. Maybeyou’ve become more disciplined in some regards and less uptight in others. Or maybe you’ve learned to cook or garden orraise a dog. You know your specificsbetter than me. There isn’t much that’suniversal about the Peace Corps experience. It’s a fit custom tailored for you.

But here we are a clan of 29 goofballs, husbands, hippies,warlocks, pilgrims, poofs and gurus sharing 29 iterations of one commonexperience. We’ve been away from allthose influences from back home. Awayfrom the family and friends, the career, the culture, the comforts; we havebeen forced to muddle through this whole thing as best as we could.

As onlywe could.

The things you’ve said and done and thought these past twoyears are Who You Are. It’s been twoyears. Nobody can fake it that long. I’ve never felt more true to myself than I doright now and that’s the Grand Universal Peace Corps Truth. And while that authenticity shouldn’t beweird it certainly seems to be and that’s something we all share.

So I hope we all hold on to what we’ve found inourselves. And I hope we don’t stopexploring just because we’re finishing with our service. I’ve got the emotional sophistication of a 15year old boy with a Victoria’s Secret catalogue but I hope that if you feellike crying you’re not doing it because this is the end and you’re going tomiss pooping in a hole and talking to your friends about it. Even if the end is hard, you don’t want to bein Peace Corps forever. Of that I amcertain.

Rather I hope that we can all cherish the past, accept thepresent and embrace the future. We’vegot some heavy hitters in our group and I’m so excited to see where we all endup next. I know we’ll still travelaround…meet people…get into adventures…you know, wander the Earth. Be thankfulfor the experience but don’t linger too long looking back. Look forward to all the awesome things comingour way. Keep going forward, straight on‘till dawn.

In his swearing in speech, Lukas told us that we were Boda Men(and Women) and our job was to ask people where they were going and how wecould help them get there. I think thatwe’re spaceships. Really weirdspaceships. Tearing through the heavensat the speed of light. And space shipsdon’t come equipped with rearview mirrors.

These people.

Swearing In: Volontaire na n na!

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Explore.Dream.Discover

2012-02-05 14:05:00

The big day has arrived. After more than a year of waiting, followed by months of training, I am finally a volunteer. The Peace Corps has specific terminology for a person at each stage in the process. Applicant, nominee, invitee, stagiaire and finally volunteer. We all had outfits made in locally bought fabrics- everyone in my group, Community Economic Development, wore a purplish green floral print. Why green flowers? Because we plant money trees. Sorry, it’s a terrible joke we use when we are competitive with the other sectors here in Guinea- Public Health and Agroforestery. We had speakers from the Guinean government, US Embassy, and Peace Corps. We all raised our right hand and swore to defend the US Constitution against all enemies. I'm not joking. Leaving Dubreka was a bit sad. I had to say goodbye to my host family and my husband. Don’t freak out. I’m not actually married. On my walk to school there is a three-year-old boy who would always run out to me no matter what he was doing and high five or fist-bump me. Or raise his arms over his head, which means pick me up and spin me around. He always babbled at me in Susu. About 10 days ago, I met his dad who speaks French and he told me that his son was telling everyone that we were married. It was pretty cute. His name is Ousman Camara, which is the Guinean equivalent of John Smith. After the ceremony, we went over to the country director’s house and swam in her pool. It was so nice that you could forget that you are in Guinea. It was a tropical paradise and a reminder of the potential that Guinea has for eco-tourism. So now I am just hanging out in Conakry. On Tuesday I will go out to my site and the real work will begin.

Where there are no Supermarkets

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Explore.Dream.Discover

2012-02-05 14:08:00

As a group of volunteers, we have pretty much been all over the world. One of the indicators of development we have noticed is the quantity and quality of supermarkets. The existence of a supermarket shows that there is a working import system, transportation system, and a large enough group of people who can afford to add the cost of rent, electricity, and salary onto what they pay for food. Conakry (which has about the same population as Philadelphia) has about three supermarkets. I have not been to any of them yet, but I have heard rumors that you can get real cheddar cheese at one. The only downside is that a brick of it costs 500,000 GF or about $70 US. So for us lowly volunteers, it’s straight to the market. The market can be overwhelming. Some are vast and have seemingly no organization. You walk down narrow paths, which usually have a stream of filth running down the middle, trying to not bump into the woman with goods piled high on their heads. Surprisingly, I have grown to like shopping in the market. It is a social event. Yesterday, I decided that I was going to make a salad for lunch, come hell of high water. In Dubreka the only vegetable you can count on being in the market in quantity and quality is the onion. Tomatoes are also always there but of varying quality. Cucumbers come every few days but are sometimes too moldy to eat. Lettuce is a once a week thing. Luckily, I am in Conakry for swearing in and so finding vegetables to make a salad was possible. So the quest for salad started with the walk to the market. It’s only about 10 minutes long, but you would be surprised how many conversations you can get yourself into in a ten-minute walk. “Bonjour Fote! Tu es Americaine?”, “Oui, je viens des Etates Unis” “Oh I speaken the English small-small!” It’s always “small-small” since most English teachers here are apparently from Sierra Leone and speak a pidgin English. It’s good in a way because it’s a chance to practice your French and explain the Peace Corps, but it’s bad because it turns 10 minutes into many more. When you get to the market you have to scope out the stands and see where the produce you want is hiding. When you sidle up to the stand, you don’t just take what you want. First you have to greet the market lady- if you do it in the local language that is best. The friendlier you are, the more luck you will have with step two. Step two is to ‘discutez la prix’. I typically pick up a cucumber and ask how much does this cost. When the woman responds, I make a face and say “Really, for one this small?” As I begin to walk away, she will usually come back with a lower price. If not, it’s on to the next person. In Dubreka, I had a relationship with the market woman I frequented. I would ask about their family, they would ask about mine. One even offered me her baby! I am looking forward to getting to know people in the market in Kindia. It is a great way to culturally integrate and save money. I ended up getting a salad with lettuce, cucumber, tomato, hard boiled egg, onion and…AVOCADO! We are right on the cusp of the best season of the year in Guinea. That is avocado and mango season. They both are just beginning to appear on the market and when the season is in full bloom they become practically free. I doused some Frank’s buffalo sauce (carried lovingly across the ocean in my suitcase) on as dressing and voila! dinner time.

Story: Fote gets water from the well

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Mary in Guinea

2012-02-05 10:19:00

Since the well in my courtyard dried up in...November? I've been paying two younger boys in my compound to fill my water at the well. Recently, my neighbor lady showed me where the further well is, and I've been meaning to try to do it myself, but using only the 10L bidon, not the 20L bidon. Only girls under 10 carry the 10L, everyone else uses the 20, but as I'm not accustomed to carrying anything on my head, much less 20 liters of water, I'm sticking with the tiny bidon.

So one day last week, I decided to go to the well. As I walked through the compound across the street, I collected a parade of small children all shouting that Mari Fofana was going to fetch water!!!!! eventually one of the older boys, Alpha, told them to go away, but he and his friend decided to accompany me, which was good because I had forgotten the paths. Through our Susu/French mix, Alpha told me that the well I was planning on going to was no longer good for drinking, so I should go to a different, further well. So we hiked about five minutes further through a grassy field covered in pits which I can only assume were used as wells once, but don't understand, as they were only about 3 feet deep. Finally we arrived at the well, guarded over by an old woman with a stick, who started yelling "Cobiri" at me, which means money. Money? Last time I went I didn't have to pay? I didn't bring any money with me, and I sure didn't feel like hiking back and forth to my house again! So I searched in my pocket and found a Pep-o-mint, which another PCV gave me from her care package. Since the woman was only asking for 100 francs, a denomination which barely exists, and candies here cost 500, I figured she was getting a good deal. She looked skeptical, opened the candy immediately and popped it in her mouth, and finally indicated that I could get my water. By this point, the professionals were lining up behind me. And by professionals, I mean girls between the ages of 8 and 19, who had buckets, large bidons, and small bidons. So I had quite the audience as I stuck the water-lifting bidon the 6 or so feet down into the well and pulled up two loads of water to fill my little bidon. Then I stuck my wet bandana, which had served as a filter while I poured in the water, onto my head as a bit of a cushion, stuck the bidon on my head, and started back, led again by Alpha and his friend. Alpha kept gesturing at me to give him the bidon, but I refused and just laughed at him, trying to say in susu that I can do it myself and let me carry it. We finally got back to the neighboring compound, where the parade of children was having an impromptu drumming party, which was interrupted to cheer for me and my success. Any of those kids over the age of 5 was totally capable of doing what I had just done, but they sure made me feel like I had done something great!

It's official!

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Francophone Michelle

2012-02-04 20:40:00

I am officially a Peace Corps Volunteer! This past Friday, February 3^rd, was our swear-in ceremony. The American ambassador to Guinea came as well as several Guinean ministers. It was a lot of speech and circumstance, with one given by the volunteers in French and each of the three local languages. Lane, another volunteer, and I did the one in Malinke. Credit should be given to Clara (or Makale, as she is known here) for writing it. There were speeches by Julie (our country director), the ambassador, Ousmane (our training manager), and the representative of the Guinean government. Probably the best tidbit from those two hours of speeches was given by the government man (who also lamented all the Chinese food and movies we will miss over the next two years), “Today, people can find the price of anything, yet we know the value of nothing.”

After the speeches we all stood up and pledged our allegiance to America and our service, and then it was official! Afterwards we had a delicious meal of rice and chicken and scavenged all the Pringles left over in the VIP tent that the ambassador didn’t eat. Friday night, Julie invited us over to her house for a pool party and desserts. Overall, a great day to become a volunteer.

All the AGFO volunteers in our matching tree fabric.

To back track a bit, before swear-in in Conakry, we had a farewell ceremony with our host families in Dubreka. I was very sad to leave the people who had welcomed me into their family and they were equally sad to see me go. At one point, a petite (young child) just ran off crying and an older boy had to chase after him to bring him back. Probably most sad was my namesake, Mahawa, who I will miss so much. She has already called me on the phone at least 8 times since I left, so I am sure we will stay in touch.

My host dad Derem, brother Moussa, sister Mahawa, and me

Now I am shopping for home supplies in Conakry, like a propane stove and cooking utensils, and Sunday I will head to Kankan to be installed at my site. I am glad to be done with training (it was starting to be a bit of a drag) and so excited to start my work here in Guinea.

And now…

10 Things We Learned in Pre-Service Training

1. Street food is delicious

2. Toilet paper is a rarity, stock up when you can

3. When all else fails, throw in some local language. Or dance.

4. Nothing starts on time in Guinea

5. “Je suis excite” means ‘I am excited’, but not in a good way

6. The fancier the occasion, the brighter and more garish your outfit should be

7. No meal is complete without rice and fish sauce

8. Knees are too sexy to keep uncovered

9. Speed limits are for squares

10. NEVER look down the pit latrine

Abdoul (our APCD), and all the AGFO guys with their swearing-in mustaches. Guinea has no idea what is about to hit it.

Oh, and people were asking about mail. It still goes to the same address. The only place that really receives mail in Guinea is Conakry and then it is spread throughout the country in a sort of West African Pony Express kind of system (at least that is how I picture it).
Much Love to All

Care Package Post: Send Me Pretty Things!!

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Heart. Soul. Guinea

2012-02-04 13:54:46

Hey Everyone!

So I know some of you have asked me about how/when/what care package stuff you can send my way. First, in advance, I thank you! It means the world to me that you send my anything, let alone, a lot of awesome American goodies.

So, for my address and tips on sending packages to Guinea, please check out the tab above namedWant to Contact Me/Send Me Mail!.

So here are the things that I would love to receive. All of you are very creative people, so please add if you would think of anything good.

The List

-Nail polishes

- Pedicure Kit

- Earrings (cheapy Clarie’s ones)

- Pens

- French books

- Photos

- American food goodies

- Magazines

Of course you don’t need to get it all. Please don’t. These are just suggestions.

Letters are also very much appreciated!

Thanks again!

Xoxo,

Carolina

Interview with a Peace Corps Volunteer: Jeff Jackson

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea YouTube Videos matching query: "peace corps" "Guinea"

2012-02-04 05:26:23

	Interview with a Peace Corps Volunteer: Jeff Jackson The first in a hopeful series of interviews with my fellow Volunteers in Thailand. Sorry for the roughness of the video, Jeff was nice enough to be my guinea pig for the first one. Recorded over my visit during the New Year's break, we see a little of where he lives, some ups and downs, some of his free time activities, and some talk about we do for 'work.' erinflewthecoop.wordpress.com Jeff's Blog: sawatdiifromthailand.wordpress.com	From: erinflewthecoop Views: 2 0 ratings
	Time: 09:56	More in People & Blogs

Togo, West Africa... Adventures in the Peace Corps

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea YouTube Videos matching query: "peace corps" "Guinea"

2012-02-03 09:08:24

	Togo, West Africa... Adventures in the Peace Corps J'adore Afrique. How do you summarize two years into one page? When I learned I had secured a place in the Community Health and HIV/AIDS Prevention Program with the United States Peace Corps and they called to tell me I would be leaving in September for a French speaking country in West Africa I screamed with excitement. It was a dream come true. We, volunteers, all have different reasons for joining. Honestly, most of us are running away from something. A decent majority are sincerely interested in the program they are entering and think the twenty-seven months they spend in service will help to achieve greater success in future endeavors. I fell somewhere in between. Having lived overseas before, I was aching to live once more in a French speaking country. Switzerland was too expensive to do on my own dime and I figured two years working as a health agent would help me to transition into a job in health communications upon my return stateside. Peace Corps West Africa was the perfect solution. I never imagined how close I would become to a country and customs so foreign from my own. I never imagined how many similarities I would find that would forever endear me to these people. Each picture in the slide show above has it's own story that would take pages to explain. In the group photo at the beginning of the video, where we all have our tongues sticking out, the white pill is an anti-malaria pill. Some of us took it every day; some of us took it once a week. We all had <b>...</b>	From: LoeyRocks Views: 18103 40 ratings
	Time: 06:00	More in Travel & Events

Dedicate yourself

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea La Vie en Guinée

2012-02-02 17:02:00

One of the toughest weeks of my Peace Corps service…yet also one of the best…

It started on Monday. My brother Abou told me that his pen and French notebook had been stolen during class (9^th grade chemistry) while he was out of class running an errand for his teacher. No students owned up to it and the teacher couldn’t do anything to get it back. DISBELIEF. I bought a new pen and notebook for Abou and he spent hours and hours recopying 3 months of notes so that he didn’t fail the “contrôle de cahier” (notebook check) in 2 days. I lent him my flashlight so he could even stay up at night to finish in time.

On Tuesday my other little brother Issiaga got kicked out of class (5^th grade) because his hair was too long and needed to be cut. He didn’t have money to buy a razor so I got one for him. The elementary school is also requiring all students to bring pictures of themselves to class to attach to the report cards - just one more thing that the students can not afford. FRUSTRATION. Tuesday night my little sister Hawa came home with her report card for 6th grade. She brought it over to me with a pen to sign where it said, “parent’s signature.” I guess being the only one invested in the education of these children my sister thought that I should sign there (I didn’t, I told her that her mom needed to do it). I also refused to sign it because she was failing all of the subjects. DISAPPOINTMENT. She has so much working against her and she already has a 2 year old son. I told her that she needs to study harder and tried to explain the importance of education for her and also how she will be the one to pass on her knowledge to her son. Abou was sitting on the porch with us and I told him that, being the most responsible and smartest student of the family he needed to step up and be a role model and encourage the other children in our concession to keep going to school. I told him how DISCOURAGED I was about education in Guinea. As I was saying goodnight he told me, “Il faut pas être decouragé” – don’t be discouraged.

Wednesday. Feeling pretty down about education. I get to school and my 3 best students inform me that they won’t be in class because their family friend died the night before, but they didn’t want to skip class without telling me. SADNESS. I went to class wondering how students manage to make it this far with so many things going against them, when, 2 students from Terminale came into my class to make an announcement. They were asking students to donate whatever small amount of money they could to help another Terminale student whose hut had burned down and whose notebooks, uniform, and everything else had been destroyed. At this point I was just about ready to cry in class. Luckily I made it through the lesson. When I was finished with class and packing up my stuff Abou came into my classroom to ask for some chalk. He told me he wanted to do some math revision with our younger siblings. HOPE at last. I wasn’t sure if he was really going to do it, but when I got home a few hours later all of the kids were outside copying notes, 2 of my younger brothers and a neighbor were at the chalkboard on my porch doing math with Abou supervising their calculations. Tears of JOY. I have never seen of the kids in my family study outside of school. No one hardly noticed when I came home because they were all focused on what they were doing. HAPPINESS.

Thursday. My students, having sensed my discouragement the day before, came to me after class to talk with me. A group of 12^th grade girls and I spent about 20 minutes talking about the issues that students face and I told them they’ve made it this far and they need to do everything they can to keep going. One of my top girls wants to be a doctor and asked if I had any resources about medicine that she could borrow. She really enjoyed when we talked about parasites and wanted to know more about them. The next day I was able to give her a few copies of info that I had relating to that. FULFILMENT.

It’s easy to get discouraged working in this environment – poverty, suffering, sickness, etc... But at the same time there are so many people that are working hard to change their lives and to change Guinea and that’s what keeps me going.

Peace Corps staff reminded me of this when confronting these hardships (I think it comes from a Buddhist saying):

1. Accept that there will never be an end to all suffering

2. Dedicate yourself to the end of all suffering

This is my dedication.

New Goals

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea En Afrique

2012-01-31 17:35:00

I have a new life ambition: to be a driver for an NGO in athird world country.

So, we have sort of gotten our Toyota Land Cruiser running.It is a high clearance, four wheel drive (though that is not working yet),massive tired diesel beast. I have never driven a large SUV and thought theywere pretty silly in the states. Now I’ve drunk the koolaid. When our LandCruiser is running, I love driving it through the mud and slog of the awfulroads around here. I haven’t gotten stuck yet.

At the moment, there is only a couple of us that can driveit, and one is usually out on his motorcycle so I have become the unofficialdriver. I also am the only one that can get it started, having spent a lot oftime with the mechanics trying to get it working.

Here are some of the advantages of being a driver out here:

· Challenging work. Slogging this beast throughthe mud and keeping it operating is a major task.
· Rewarding work. When I get from point A to pointB there’s a sense of something accomplished.
· Driving a real 4x4 (even if the four wheel driveis broken) through terrain we call Normandy because it’s so messed up is just areal pleasure.

But alas, I will never meet all the requirements of adriver in a third world country. Sigh…

My Foray into the Life of a Market Woman

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Explore.Dream.Discover

2012-01-31 17:09:00

My training (which is nearly complete) involves ‘qualifying projects’ which are basically hands on learning activities. Throughout pre-service training, we have been operating a ‘Village Savings and Loans Organization’. It is a micro-credit tool where a group of individuals who trust each other can save money and give out loans. To save money, they buy shares in the association. When the loans are repaid with interest, the earned money is divided among the group based upon how many shares they have purchased. It is a great way for women especially to have access to credit. Anyway, we have been saving money in this way and this week we took out loans to start an income-generating project. The goal was to introduce a new product or service into the local market and hopefully turn a profit. My group settled on jam making. Food security is a huge problem in Guinea. There is a long hunger season and as much as 1/3 of the population does not have enough food in quantity or quality at some point in the year. On the flip-side, during mango season, tons of mangoes are spoiled because they just cannot be consumed fast enough. On a side note, I am really, really excited for mango season. Jam is therefore a great project because it can be made during the mango season and saved for the hunger season. We slaved over a hot stove all day and ended up making Orange, Papaya, and Mango confiture (jam in French). We made about 120 little baggies of it and the next day set out bright and early with bowls of jelly on our heads and hit the market. It was a big hit. Guineans love sweet foods and literally were just squeezing the jelly into their mouths instead of waiting to put it on bread. We sold out of our product in one morning. Despite this, we only made 27,000 GF or $4. The market women here slave away for a tiny profit margin. WE had the benefit of having a good, unique product and being Fote so I can only imagine how much harder it is for Guinean women who have to do it everyday on top of keeping house and feeding a bajillion kids. To get off my soapbox, One man did not trust me that the jelly would taste good. I convinced him to buy it using our prime marketing technique- me talking in Susu. I asked him to taste it before I left. He squeeze some into his mouth. Instantly a smile spread across his face and he put his fist out for a fist bump. Definitely the first time I have received a fist bump in exchange for preserved fruits, but will it be the last time? Probably not. A few women were really interested in learning how to make it so that they could sell it on the market. I was very excited. It was exactly what my group hoped would happen. I set up a lesson for last Sunday morning. All week, I stopped by the market stalls of the women who wanted to come to the class and reminded them of the time and to bring a glass jar. They were all eager to make their own confiture. I got a friend to who has more jam making experience to help me (I had a private and somewhat rational fear that I was going to teach it wrong and be responsible for giving an entire village botchelism). We arrived at the appointed time. We waited an hour. Nobody came. We waited another hour. Nobody came. We ended up just making some papaya jelly for ourselves. It was a disappointing afternoon, but we both knew it was a possibility. People here tell you they are so excited to come to this or that and about 75% of the time do not come. It could be because they forgot, they don’t have a watch so have no concept of time, they don’t have a calendar and so have no concept of date, or something else came up. So it was not quite the learning experience that I was hoping for, but I definitely learned some new things. Life can’t be so bad when your downside is getting to eat a peanut butter and papaya jelly sandwich for lunch.

[Guinean news] Guinea thumps Botswana in African Cup

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea News from Guinea and Friends of Guinea

2012-01-28 21:34:00

The Guinean national soccer team crushed debutantes Botswana 6-1 in their second group stage game at the African Nations Cup. This was by far the biggest victory by any team at the tournament so far. Botswana had a player ejected shortly before half time for a bad tackle when the score was 3-1.

Guinea play tournament co-favorites Ghana in their final group stage game on Wednesday Feb. 1 at 1:00 pm Eastern Time (1800 GMT). The Syli national will advance to the quarterfinals with a win and will be eliminated with a loss. A tie will eliminate them unless Botswana defeats Mali.

[Guinean news] Fire damages Matoto market

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea News from Guinea and Friends of Guinea

2012-01-29 09:59:00

A severe fire ravaged through the Matoto market in Conakry several weeks ago, destroying over 20 boutiques. No lives were lost. An electrical short circuit was identified as the cause of the blaze.

Take a Guinea Day

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Mary in Guinea

2012-01-28 09:41:00

Don’t use any electricity, other than to charge your phone, and then pay a dollar to do that.

Measure how much water you use. Even better, measure out 20 liters of water in buckets and use that for everything. If doing laundry, add 20 more liters, but do it by hand. Even better, but it in buckets and carry it up and down stairs at least once.

If you’re a girl, wear a long skirt. If you’re a guy, wear business pants and shoes but your brightest button-up. Girls, it doesn’t really matter what you wear on top as long as its clean.

Say Hello to 80% of everyone you see. Even better, ask how they are and how they slept.

For breakfast, drink Nescafe coffee. Use powdered creamer. You can have real sugar, don’t worry. You can have baguette with laughing cow or Nutella. Or oatmeal, but no milk there either.

For lunch, eat something with rice involved, preferable with fish and spiciness. If you’re me, you eat scrambled eggs instead. Or a baguette and refried beans.

In the evening, break out flashlights and find family or friends to chat with until 8 or so. If none is available, call friends just to say hi and how are you. Don’t make it a long phone call, you don’t have enough minutes for that.

Sleep under a mosquito net. As a replacement, give yourself some other sort of obstacle course to get in bed. Once in bed, listen to a radio, read by flashlight, or listen to your ipod.

Let me know how it goes!

2012

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea La Vie en Guinée

2012-01-28 09:19:00

Hello!

I’m back in my village from a very fun and educational time in Dubreka with the new trainees. I actually spent most of my time in Yorokoguea, a tiny village on the outskirts of Dubreka – which was relaxing and peaceful. It was neat to see what Public Health training is like – it’s very different than our educational training was. Here are some pics from Conakry/Yorokoguea:

Christmas dinner in Conakry (with Goat as the main dish)

Some of the new trainees and Ravi, CED PCRV

Public Health Group

Current agroforestry (Lacey), public health (Annie and Karen), community and economic development (Janice), and education volunteers (me).

Public Health Trainees in action!

The latrine in the back of the volunteer trainee house. I never thought a latrine could look so beautiful.

Went for a morning walk with Annie, PH Volunteer from Kankan, and saw some beautiful views of the mountains surrounding Dubreka.

Hi!

I arrived back in my village the weekend before class started up again, so I was able to spend all day Saturday in the fields with the women’s group. We’re in the eggplant harvesting season now, so I helped the women pick eggplant. There are only 2 men that help with the field work, but they have become my friends since they’re they only ones who speak French.

Noumouyah:

These are some of the women I work with.

Lunch time! Rice and peanut sauce

This is Nabi, one of the men that helps us. The other day another farmer stopped by and when he saw me he greeted me in French “Hey la blanche, ca va?” and Nabi corrected him and said “Non, elle est une noire.” Apparently I’m no longer a white person, but a black person. Little kids have also gotten in the habit of calling me “foré” which also means black person in Susu. I think this is because when they were yelling “foté” I responded by saying my name isn’t white person, which they took to mean that my name is black person…oops...

After a long day of work...

This is what eggplant harvest looks like

When I got back to school I my students and I talked about our wishes for the new year. I told them that Madame Liz wants health, peace and for her students to stop cheating. My students told me they wanted health, peace, money, happiness, success on the national exam in June, less problems in Guinea,and more solutions to their problems.

Some of my (best) 12th graders and me in 2012!

Volunteer vs. Food

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea blog

2012-01-27 14:53:06

Hello world! I'm on the way back to site from Mamou, where we held our In-Service Training (IST). All of the Guinea Education volunteers were reunited for the first time since our swearing-in in September. In between our numerous training sessions, we shared both horror and success stories from our time at site so far (4 months, ah!).

This past month at site has been fast and busy, complete with visits from the Prefet of Lelouma (my Prefecture, kind of like a district), weddings, more hair braiding, more weddings, and cooking lessons.

The first week after the Christmas vacation was a scramble to finish exams and the reporting of grades required by the Department of Education here in Guinea. With a new system for grades implemented this year, my colleagues struggled to finish calculating and organizing all of our school's grades by January 10th, the day were we given to "proclaim the results". Each teacher charged as "Professeur Principal" of a grade (7th-11th) had to hand copy, average, and rank each students grades in each subject on serval master copies, then fill out what is basically a report card ("bulletin de notes") by hand, for each individual student. With dozens of kids with the same names, no excel spreadsheets or grading program dozens, and sometimes ninety students to a class, this task isn't easy. I helped with the workload, and we were scrambling to finish the subject rankings until the last five minutes before we were supposed to start proclaiming the results. The parents of the students who had come to the event could still see the hundreds of numbers we had scribbled on the chalkboard when they arrived. Next semester, one of my colleagues is handing over the responsibility of "Professeur principal" to me for the 11th grade class. Citing that it would be a "good experience" for me, I accepted happily, but I'm sure the other teacher is also happy to lighten his workload a little.

I've been visiting several small villages that my students are from (several miles away- some of my students actually do walk five miles to school each day, uphill both ways, in plastic flip-flops!). I spent a recent Saturday in one small village where I was given gifts, taken to the elementary school, shown inside lots of houses, and had my hair braided one again- this time over the course of four hours! I felt like a princess, especially after the cheers of parents on my arrival and after one of my students told me, "Mme, tout le monde est content de vous avoir ici!" (Mme, everyone is so happy you're here!).

Another visit to a different village for a student's wedding involved me biking behind my teacher friends' motos up a rocky, unpaved mountain trail. I arrived finally, sweaty, disgusting, and out of breath, while my colleagues smiled, amused from their motos. Following the Peace Corps "no moto" policy is no funo sometimes. Being the early afternoon, it was extremely hot, and we we're fed numerous meals as we visited the bride and grooms families' houses. When my stomach was stuffed with more African rice, yogurt, and potatoes than I ever thought I could handle, I was charged with carrying back all the gifted bananas given to the teacher group in my backpack, back down the mountain on my bike. The ride was a little scary, but if I didn't break at all over the rocks, I found I could go faster than the motos back down to our village. Take that, lazy moto riders. The next day, a member of the wedding party came to see us with another meal in our honor, and the teachers gathered together to eat more, once again.

Besides being stuffed by the community, classes are going well in the new year, and my students are getting more adapted my different teaching methods. I got my 8th graders to rap about amoeba division in biology, and my chemistry classes are competing to balance equations, which isn't even a part of the Guinean curriculum, but it's something they should know (in my professional opinion.)

Books for this month have varied from the deep and moving (Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance) to the culturally important (The Real Face of Islam, Jane Austen stuff, Persepholis) to the culturally not-so-important (Twilight 4- Breaking Dawn). Oddly enough, four female volunteers in the Fouta (me included) had never read the Twilight series before coming to Guinea, but we've all caught the romantic vampire bug since moving to rural Africa. Tensions ran high at IST, however, with the four of us scrambling to finish the books and pass them on to each other. Knowing we won't be able to see the last movies for the next few years is a little disheartening, now that we've all jumped on the Twilight train (after resisting for so many years). The crazy dreams from my anti-malaria drugs are definitely a good substitute for the movies now though. In them, I've seen more than enough vampires, not to mention man-eating crocodiles, house invaders, hunger-games-esque competitions in Guinea, and spacemen.

BUUUTTTTTTT

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Heart. Soul. Guinea

2012-01-26 11:07:26

Finals week has come to pre-service training. We have been doing a lot throughout the past 7 weeks, but it was kicked into high gear this week. The CEDers realized that we had a bunch of presentations, activities, ect that needed to be done this week. We had to present to our partner organization an evaluation of our thoughts about their business. I mentioned this ongoing project a while back, so this was the grand finale. In addition, we were also split up into groups for an experiment in income generating activities (IGA), which was perhaps one of the most eye- opening experiences thus far. The old adage rings true: you don’t know someone until you have walked a mile in their shoes. My group for the IGA was Kenny, Abe and myself. We decided to make some Pain Perdu (French toast) to sell. It was an interesting process to see that even with all of our budget planning and hard labor 3 days in a row, our profit was still so small. It is hard to comprehend in our American mindset why anyone would ever go through all that work just for a couple of mil franc of profit. But, without it, where would the Guinean people be? Hard laborious work is the name of the game in this country. There is no service industry really and almost everything is based around/on agriculture. On an interesting note, when I went to the market this week, I saw that my host cousin was selling some French toast in front of her boutique. It was really wonderful and inspiring to see, as we did all of the labor at my house and, she helped us make our first batch. I guess we rubbed off on her. The Fotês did something well. LOL

As a group, we also hit this week our 2-month mark in country and the end of our training, which is sadder than I would have ever expected it. My French continues to improve, but I am still worried about the upcoming and most important language test. I have to pass this test in order to go to site. I am worried, but trying to get in as much studying as possible. I have felt pretty overwhelmed with everything going on over the past two weeks, particulary bececause the reality of site is only a week and a half away. No more Americans every day, no more sweet language trainers who try so hard to understand us, no more safe and lovely Dubreka. I have felt overwhelmed with the fear of being misunderstood, both in language and personality, in Siguiri. I wonder what the hell I will be doing for two years. Yeah, I know it will be business-oriented, but what can I contribute? I realize that my path will be chosen with time, but I would like to know now… please. The end of training is also sad because I have had such a good time getting to know everyone, from my fellow PCTs to staff to my host family. I will miss everyone and Dubreka, a city that has treated us so well, so much. I will miss seeing my friends’ everyday as oppose to once a month or once in a while. I will miss the awesome staff that have filled themselves with patience and understanding with us and has laughed with us multiple times. I will miss Dubreka as a city. I have learned the ins and outs of Dubreka. I have taken the taxi from the marche in ville to 5K a million and one times. I have ridden my bike every morning and afternoon to the PC bureau saying hi to all of our neighbors and answering the children’s’ calls of “Fotê” along the way every day. Dubreka has treated me well. Most of all, I will miss my family here. I have created an amazing bond with my host mother here who has the same sarcastic, dry sense of humor that I have. We have shared so many laughs over dinner and hang out at night. I will miss that a lot. I have learned so much about her. She really is a wonderful person, who has been beyond lovely with me and has extended all of her hospitality to me as well. She truly is my favorite person here. I will also miss my host brother and cousin. While it took them a while to warm up to me, now we share stories and jokes. I will miss them all so much and fear that I might not be able to assimilate as well in Suguiri. I guess only time will tell.

Speaking of a wonderful host mother, last Sunday was Hilary’s birthday, so I decided to invite her and some of our other friends to breakfast at my house. We made French toast together, Clara made a meat dish and my host mom made a delicious fruit salad. I had a wonderful time inviting everyone over to my neck of the woods and hosting a little get together, just like old times back in the States. Everyone was amazed by my host mother (of course) and the compound that I have lived at for the past 9 weeks. Everyone fell in love with the garden, my mom and Blackie, the puppy. I think the morning overall was quite a success and most importantly, Hilary was happy. You know me and birthdays, I just love them.

Now for the title of this blog, the African Cup has arrived in Guinea!! The African Cup is exactly like the World Cup, but just for African countries. If you know me, you know that I am obsessed with the World Cup and grew up with futbol, so this is all good news for me. Equatorial Guinea is hosting this time around, so this past Saturday, I sat down with my host mom and brother to watch the first match. It was funny to hear the speeches made before the match in Spanish (E.G speaks Spanish) and having my family ask to translate for them. MAAHAAHH…now they understand what I have been through for the past 9 weeks here! Je ne comprend pas. Yo no entiendo. I don’t understand. My go-to words over the past weeks. LOL. But, anyway, back to futbol. Since the start of tournament on Saturday, every day there has been two games played, so I have been trying to watch as much futbol as possible. However, because it is Guinea, you can only really watch the games if the electricity comes, which was not the case on Tuesday, when Guinea played against Mali. Yup, no electricity for the most important game. I don’t know who’s idea that was, but I would have rather watched the Guinea game to the Zambia one. Because there was no electricity, I didn’t know the final score until the following day when my mom told me that her beloved Mail (she was born there) had won 1-0. Bummer. It was an even bigger bummer that there was no electricity. But, that hasn’t stopped Guinean people from wearing jerseys, hair ties, bracelets, necklaces and earrings that have the yellow, green and red of the flag. There is some serious patriotism here, which includes dancing and singing in the streets. I really love to see Dubreka like this. I really hope that the Guinean team goes far. I even bought my own pair of Guinean colors earrings for good luck. Viva Guinea! Ps. But in French is goal. Go back to the title of this post to put it together. Volia!

Lastly, I have been bit by the designing clothes bug and had made an African-print dress. The print was a lovely blue and red and the dress was made perfectly. So much so, that many of the girl PCTs want to borrow it to show their tailors. In addition, I also recently went to the tailor to make my swearing-in dress for next week when we officially become volunteers and a specially-requested shirt that I wanted made. I adore the prints of materials here in Africa. They are all so colorful and thanks to family connections, I was able to buy my cloth and have my clothes made at reasonable prices. I will have to take photos of me in my clothes and post as soon as I can. I can’t wait to see how my clothes turn out. I am thinking I will be wearing a lot of African prints in the near future.
So, that is it for me now. I figured a smaller blog entry was necessary after my obnoxiously long one last time. I will not be updating my blog again until Conarky, so watch out next week for my last blog entry before heading to site. I am currently compiling a list of things for care packages, so expect a care package blog entry next time as well. I would love to receive some mail in the first few months of site!! It would definitely cheer up my day! =)

Xoxo,

Carolina

A quick quote!

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea A Spectacular Journey

2012-01-26 15:11:00

“The real marriage of true minds is for any two people to possess a sense of humor or irony pitched in exactly the same key, so that their joint glances on any subject cross like interarching searchlights.”

-Edith Wharton

Swear-in, when I officially become a Peace Corps Volunteer, is only a week away! Too bad it also means I (once again) have to leave a bunch of incredible people behind to strike out on my own. Best of luck to all the other G21 trainees!

Senegal and WAIST

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Lacey's Peace Corps Adventure

2012-01-25 13:01:00

Senegal…is…AWESOME ! Almost like America. Paved roads, electricity, ice cream, cheese, pretty beaches, Oh My!!!

Peace Corps Senegal holds an annual West African Peace Corps All-Volunteer Conference (WAIST). It is a one-day GAD (Gender and Development) conference followed by a two-day All-Vol conference. Thennnnn we all travel to Dakar, the capital, for some fun.

It took FOUR days to get to the conference in Senegal. (1) Out of village to Kindia; (2) Kindia to Labé, (3) Labé-across the boarder-Manda-Tamba, Senegal; then (4) Tamba to Theis. I remember my first bush taxi ride. I swore I would neverever get into another bush taxi again. And now here I am making a 4 day journey to another country in them. But I survived! And it was a wild ride to say the least.

Guinea-side was normal – cram a whole buncha people in a small falling-apart car and drive like a maniac. But Senegal… wow. Our driver didn’t even know what to do once we hit pavement – he literally slowed down in confusement.
Crossing the boarder was not fun. Guinea-side, we had to cross through TEN gendarmerie checkpoints… TEN!!!! I had to get out my ID and take their stupid comments TEN separate times. And there is only one road so its not like there were merging roads to check new people, nope, all the saaaammmeee people. Checked ten times. There was a girl from the Gambia in our car, thus she had a Gambian ID card – which wasn’t good enough for the gendarmerie and made her pay bribe money every time she went through a check point, which, may I point out, is illegal internationally, as there is a law that West African citizens are allowed to cross boarders without trouble. I had to bite my tongue more than once as to not tell off a gendarmerie man. BUT enough complaining about the Guinean gendarmerie!! The SENEGAL checkpoints… how many you may ask? One. They greeted us and smiled and welcomed us to their country of paved roads and one whole seat per person in a car, as Senegalese law has it. It was magnificent!

At the boarder, Janice and I needed to change over our Guinean Francs to the CFA currency. (Oh, note: Only Janice and I went because the rest of Peace Corps Guinea are too new in country, so they can go next year). I called Peace Corps financial office to get the current exchange rate so that we can judge how badly we are getting ripped off when exchanging the currency. But the opposite happened. We ended up getting more CFA than we thought! The people exchanging the money hardly profited at all! I did not understand at all but I was extremely pleased. Especially since the GNF (Guinean Franc) is pretty much useless in any other currency. For one million GNF, I received 69,000 CFA (which is approximately 120 US dollars). Everything in Senegal is more expensive. I blew through 2 months of Peace Corps allowance in a week and a half there – due to travel, lodging, food, and some fun. In Guinea, my Peace Corps allowance is More than enough, I never worry about money here. But I also do not take care to save it up because it’s hardly worth it once you exchange it to dollars, CFA, or Euros. It’s interesting how the weight of currency works in a country and out.

The first day of conference was the GAD conference – Gender And Development. Janice decided to present her work, as she and RPCV Kate did a wonderful and successful workshop with girls coming out of school and wanting to enter the professional world (shoutout to Kate, hiiiii Bintia!!!! We miss youuuuuuuuu!!!!). I also helped briefly present other current PCV Guinea projects.
The second day of conference was the All-Vol conference where PCVs presented successful projects, best-practices, methodology, techniques, and just a great exchange of information. I did two one-hour presentations about my apiculture work, how it can be implemented as a cross-sectorial project, the context and execution of my personal project, and how to start an apiculture project of your own. I also had time to go to other presentations that inspired me so much that I wish I had another year to do some of these amazing projects other PCVs have done – i.e. medicinal plants!!! The third and last day was field-trip outings where I co-facilitated an outing to an Apiary to discuss the Langstrong Hive and compare it to the Intermediate-technology of the KTBH (the one I use in village). A GREAT conference. All you PCVs reading this blog, GO TO THE CONFERENCE NEXT YEAR!!!
(Warning: next two paragraphs are not culturally related to West Africa and is a mess of fun) After the fieldtrips, we were bussed in to Dakar for 3-days of fun. There was a 3-day softball tournament, where we were split up into teams, picked themes and dressed up ridiculously. There was a team who dressed like France (stripes, cigarettes, and berets), one like a Beach-outing (big float toys), etc. It was really funny. Guinea was paired up with the Cape Verde boys since Janice and I were the only reps from Guinea and Cape Verde only had like 6 players. We made a team and we were dentists (well… the boys were dentists). We played ex-pat teams who either thought our obnoxiousness was hilarious or annoying. One particular game, an ex-pat from the other team was fed up with us and he says “OK This is how it is going to happen, rawr rawr la lala…” anyways, the CV boys decided to show him how serious we were. So on the next pitch, our hitter stepped in front of the ball on purpose and my team went wild in fake anger and tackled the pitcher and tickled him to death. Even the mean serious man had to laugh at it.
Every night was fun too. The first night was a talent show and photo contest (My photo won category On The Job with a forest fire picture!!) followed by going out to a club. The second night was Peace Corps Prom and Bid-On-A-Date where they sold male PCVs for fun and sent them on a date and all the money went to the GAD fund – PCV projects to help girls! And the last night was a DancePants Party where we danced our pants off (luckily I had a dress on, haha). The last morning I said goodbye to my PC NigerSenegal stagemates over croissants and hot cocoa (I tell you, this place is like AMERICA!!!) then Janice and I hopped on a bush taxi to start the trek home. To reiterate my previous statement: PC West Africa... GO TO THE CONFERENCE!!!!!!! It was a great time and it was sooo nice being around other Americans, speaking English, having fun, dancing, wearing jeans, playing softball, being silly, acting like a college kid, etc.

To get back to more serious matters since you are reading this blog for insight on different cultures and not PCV American-like fun (since you are probably experiencing this every weekend)…

Senegal is flat and sandy. With beautiful baobabs standing tall against the horizon. And whole families of monkeys hanging out by the side of the road and running around, mooning us with their funny-lookin butts. Senegal reminded me of Niger, due to the flat and sandy landscape. And once I was reunited with Peace Corps Niger-now-Senegal stagemates, Minnie, Chelsea, Dan, and Pheobe, it was just like old times, Niger times. It was wonderful.

Senegal’s national language is French, but, like Niger, the local language is spoken more than French. In Niger, I learned Zarma and only Zarma even though the national language was French. But it was just fine because even when going into the capital Niamey, if I spoke Zarma, I was understood. It was funny going into a nicer French-run restaurant and after someone tried to speak to me in French, I would speak back in Zarma. It took them by surprise… but everyone knew the language and only a handful of educated city-dwellers spoke French! It was the same case in Senegal except the language was Wolof. Dieu Merci for Chelsea and my other PC Niger-Senegal friends who spoke AWESOME Wolof to help us around the city, because when I spoke French, they just looked at me blankly. In Guinea, the national language is French and it is widely spoken among the educated and it is a sign of respect if you speak to someone in French. In village, I need to speak in Sosoxui because the majority of my village does not speak French, due to the location and lack of education, but going into a bigger city, the capital, or working with officials or my NGO STEWARD, communication must happen in French. I love the mix of languages, the different sounds, different ways to talk and communicate, how they compare, how they are used. I must say though, the prettiest sounding language I have heard so far is Pular. Anjatama, tanala taung, marasude… yepp that’s all I know. But it’s pretty. Come and listen some time : )

Senegal may have its electricity and pavement, croissants and beaches, but Guinea has beauty. Guinea has mountains, beautiful dusty windy roads around the side of a mountain (dangerous, yes, but also beautiful), mangos falling from heavy fruit-laden branches, avocados and tomatoes and every type of fresh fruit and vegetable imaginable, fertile soil dripping with nutrients, rivers that criss-cross the lands, lush forests filled with palm trees and hidden secrets, beauty beauty beauty. Cheers to Senegal, infinite love sent to Niger. But I must say, if Niger was out, I would choose Guinea all over again if I had the chance.

[Guinean news] Guinean soccer team loses to Mali in Nations Cup

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea News from Guinea and Friends of Guinea

2012-01-24 20:57:00

Guinea's national soccer team lost by a 1-0 margin to Mali in both teams' opening match at the African Nations Cup tournament held in Gabon and Equatorial Guinea. The Syli national lost to their neighbors despite creating far more quality scoring opportunities. Guinea's next group stage game is on Saturday against Botswana, a team making their first ever appearance at the tournament. Their final match will be next Wednesday against Ghana, one of the teams favored to win the tournament.

PCT -> PCV

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Bits & Pieces

2012-01-24 17:26:00

As I mentioned before the past couple weeks was spent at a counterpart workshop in Maomou (Fouta), Pita (my future site), and Labé (my future regional capital).

The purpose of the workshop was to teach our counterparts, the person we will be working with for the next two years, what Peace Corps expects from them, what they should expect from us, and just provide an opportunity for us to hang out together. My counterpart, Menseur Barry, is great. He runs a successful café and is also the head of the CECOJE organization in Pita. He seemed genuinely enthusiastic about my arrival and was certainly patient with all of the questions I had about the organization and the city throughout my site visit. This should be a very good two years.

Pita is very urban in comparison to Dubreka. The daily market is very clean and organized, which is a nice change of pace. I also had the opportunity to stay in the apartment I’ll be living in during my service. It’s pretty spacious, with a great little awning in front, a dining room, two bedrooms, and my own pit-latrine in the back. I couldn’t be more thrilled about my living arrangement, especially because I thought I would be living in a hut before I got here. The best part is that I am set up for electricity whenever the city decides to turn it on. There is a Chinese hydroelectric dam that supplies the power called the Kinkon Dam (until I got there I thought everyone was saying the King Kong Dam).

Right now we are in the last full week of training. Still boggles my mind that I’ve been here for nearly two months now. Overall PST has been an interesting experience. I understand that it’s hard for Peace Corps to effectively meet the needs some of the trainees while not boring others since we differ so much in professional and language experience. This means, to be safe, we are inundated with technical and language courses. While they’re certainly informative they tend to drag on. Language is a particularly sore spot. 4 hours of every day are devoted to language training and for the people who have already interviewed out of their language requirement, 4 hours of class can be pretty boring. For the rest of us who still have to pass their interview next Wednesday, it’s still frustrating. After seeing how beneficial it is be completely immersed in French on site everything else seems kind of useless in comparison.

To Peace Corps’ credit, as much as we complain about how tedious the training schedule is it’s hard to argue with the results. My French has definitely come a long ways. This past week I gave a 30-minute presentation on a feasibility study I did with my small business partner here in Dubreka and this Tuesday I’ll give another 30-minute presentation with my small group to the CECOJE here in Dubreka discuss their strengths and weaknesses (or as Target would say, their Wins and Opps). I think the fact that I am procrastinating prepping for the presentation by writing this blog update actually reflects how much more comfortable I’ve become at speaking French. I don’t plan on winging it by any means, but I know at the beginning of training I would have been pouring over my notes and stressing out a lot more than I am now. Just finished the presentation and it went great. Woohoo.

Not to sound trite, but it is also very bittersweet now that PST is coming to a close. Many of us are getting sick of the 8 hours of training we have every day, but at the same time there are only two more weeks before G21 is split up for good. We all say we’ll visit each other once we get on site, but in all honestly we’ll be pretty busy with work. Also, to visit another region means an 8-10 hour drive for many of us. While that wouldn’t necessarily be a big deal in the states, in bush-taxi land not only is it extremely expensive and uncomfortable, it’s dangerous to boot. We’ll all see each other in 3 months for IST (In Service Training), but it won’t be the same. We all get along so well it will be hard to say goodbye to everyone.

Very excited for Swear-In though. Everyone gets to go back to Conakry, enjoy some air conditioning, take a dip in the pool at the director’s house, and throw a party in celebration of our completion of training. We will finally be PCVolunteers. None of this PCT business. February 3^rd cannot come soon enough.

Things Kenny Has (That No One Else Does)

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea A Spectacular Journey

2012-01-23 17:44:00

Kenny, the King of Africa

- A gold-plated western-style toilet.

- Trips to Paris to practice his French on the weekends.

- Women fanning him and feeding him peeled grapes.

- A guard at his door to keep anyone from stealing his things.

- A/C

- Umbrella drinks with rum.

- Kenny doesn’t have to walk anywhere – even in his house they have 4 hired men who carry him from room to room.

- A personal chauffeur (that puts his bike on a rack so he can say he rode to school).

- A man whose only job is to follow him around, telling people who he is and what he does.

- A vast array of colognes to pick from each morning, keeping him smelling fresh as a daisy.

- No respect for limited water resources because his house is stocked with bottles of Fiji water.

- A swimming pool.

- A bouncy house for his birthday.

- A personal baker – honestly he’s getting tired of fresh-baked bread every day.

- A Thermarest bed with one side set to 1, the other set to 5, so he can just roll over in the night when he gets uncomfortable.

- His solar charger could power the entire village, but he just uses it to watch TV.

- The still-unreleased end to the Twilight Saga? Kenny’s seen it a couple times, and says it’s not that great.

- A unicorn and a rollercoaster.

- The waterfall we went to was pretty boring – it’s got nothing on his backyard water feature.

Just Cause It's Funny

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea BecauseWeOughta

2012-01-23 17:41:00

One of my colleagues works in a village about 30 minutes outside of Labé returned from site visits with the following stories.

The last night before leaving her site, her counterpart sits her down and the following conversation ensused:

Mamadou: So we’re friends Roxanne, right?

Roxanne: Yes, of course, I consider us friends.

Mamadou: And we trust each other right?

Roxanne: Yes Mamadou, I trust you, and I hope that you trust me and I’m looking forward to our partnership.

Mamdou: Than can you tell me this………are their VAMPIRES in the United States?!!!

Roxanne: (confused look holding back laughter) No there are not vampires in the US.

Mamdou: WAIT I’ll show you!!

He leaves the room and returns several minutes later with a picture of a Native American.

Mamadou: VAMPIRES!! VAMPIRES!!

Roxanne: (who by the way IS NATIVE AMERICAN) No, that is not a vampire Mamadou. Those are the original Americans.

Mamadou: Not a vampire?

Roxanne: No not a vampire.

Jesus Christ Superstar

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea BecauseWeOughta

2012-01-23 18:04:00

Being that I’m asked everyday why I’m Christian and what I believe, and that my French is not strong enough to explain the depths of my faith, I’ve realized how infrequently I am asked this question. Or questions such as why was Christ cruicified? Or how is Christ the son of God but also God? I feel like I’m in seminary. These are difficult concepts to explain in English much less in French. I believe, however, it’s the same for many people in general. Explaining what you believe and why you believe it leaves many speechless.

So.

Without going into deep exegesis of scripture explaining the old testament vs. new testament prophecies and such…..

Why do I follow Christ?

Because he is worth following.

He came to change the religious, social, and political climate of his times. He was a revolutionary. His words led movements, not only in his times, but also in our times. He taught us how to live in communion with one another. Leaders such as Gandhi, and Martin Luther King, have looked to his words and passion to spur them and others to action. Christ was so successful at mobilization, empowerment, and motivation that thousands of years later I am writing of him in a blog post as a faithful follower, moved by his work. His words, life, and death are still profoundly changing lives. Not only was his death the powerful act of a martyr, dying that we might live, but his LIFE is one worth immolating.

I follow Christ because he is the only God who came down to earth to experience humanity WITH us. God, in his infinite boundless existence, chose to become human. He has been where I’ve been. Not only that but he chooses to endow us, forever flawed humans, to be his hands and feet in the earth. I love that Christ chose the "least of these" to be leaders. I love the beautiful contradiction that he chooses to empower imperfect people to carry out his perfect plan. And just as he chose us, he gives us the freedom to choose him. He created the world and let us run free, choosing not to be an overbearing creator, intently micromanaging our movements. Instead we can hear how he warmly shows us the way in his voice.

You know that voice. So many religions teach that God is a mighty judge in the sky waiting to smack you with lightning bolts of judgment. But he is far from that picture. The God of all creation lives with us. He lives inside each and every one of us. He is in you. His glory takes shape in you. I feel his spirit in me, constantly tweaking my actions, thoughts, and plans, until I get it right, empowering me to do… something….different. We ALL hear his voice. That whisper, or gut feeling, the anxiety you feel when you KNOW with all your heart something is absolutely wrong or extremely right. God is not far away. He is not untouchable. He is Elohim, God with us, he is the Holy Spirit, speaking to us, he is mother, father, best friend, and companion. That voice has led me and taught me in some of the worst situations and most turmoil filled points of my life. But also in the most blissful times as well. We must learn to follow that voice. To all ends of the Earth, in all things. Our dreams and futures await depending on our simple obedience to that voice. So let’s stop calling “it” intuition, or “something told me” and the millions of other things people from around the world have consistently over time ascribed to “it”---and attribute it to the one, our God, Holy Spirit, God in us.

Knowing Christ has given me wisdom, confidence, and an outlook of the world that allows me to know though we are hopelessly flawed, anything is possible. I have seen miracles happen large and small. Like the little boy we met during my time in Ghana who was born with a malformed leg unable to walk, but after prayer was able to run. Or the asthma that used to keep me from breathing full, deep breathes and regularly gave me asthma attacks, gone after a weekend prayer retreat, never to return. Incurable diseases disappear with doctor’s notes to prove their non-existence.

My life has changed dramatically in the journey of knowing and following Christ and the spirit of God inside us all.

This is not at all comprehensive and I could continue on and on, but all in all......He’s not a bad choice as a leader J

Know what you believe. And know why you believe.

Why?

Because you never know who may need your faith when they have lost theirs.

Several nights ago, when I asked Mah Benti to eat with me, she asked me if I was going to church this week. I said I’ll try to, and I asked her what she prays when she prays. She began a beautiful Arabic song, in a falsetto soprano voice. After she finished I asked her the meaning of the prayer. She said it’s a salutation to God. She then asked me what I pray. I told her I pray each day, and throughout the day to God about everything. For the health of my family, for the health of my friends, for my life. I tell God I love him and ask him what he wants of me.

Mah Benti proceeded to tell me that if I pray with weave in my hair, God will not listen because he doesn’t like that. And if you die with weave in your hair, God will send you to hell. She said but you’re a Christian so it’s ok for you to pray with weave, just not Muslims. “Who said that?” I said. “Where in the Koran does it say that?” She said, “The Imam said it, not the Koran.” I asked her, “How is that true then? Is the Imam God? When you die your body remains on earth, right? But your spirit goes to heaven. So why would God be concerned with your body? I believe God loves all his people and he is a God of grace, correct? If he is then he doesn’t care what his people are wearing, he only wants them! Just like your family loves you regardless of what you wear. It’s the same with God.”

She nodded her head at all my interjections, and afterwards, she leaned in to me and whispered, “Me? I love Christians. Because when you pray to Christ, everything is quick. In Christianity, when you are sick, you can pray to Christ immediately and he takes care of it. In Islam, there are too many things you have to do to get to God. I want to know Christ. But it isn’t possible for me to go to church now because I am young and I must do what my family does, but when I grow up I want to go to church.”

I told her that you know you can pray to Christ anytime you want to, in your room, in your head at school; God is with you at anytime. She whispered, “Yes, I want to pray like this, but it’s impossible for me because I am Muslim and I don’t have the bible also.”

Because I saw she was a bit scared of talking about this outloud with her family, I asked her if she wanted to talk in my room. She said yes. She came to my room and started telling me how she loved Jesus Christ, but needed help to become a Christian. I told her if you love Christ, you don’t need my help to become a Christian. He is already with you. “How?!” she exclaimed. “How is he with me if I don’t know the bible, I don’t go to a church, and I am Muslim?” “Mah Benti,” I started. “If you believe with all your heart in Christ and you believe he is your savior, your one love, that he is God, then you already are a Christian. You can be Muslim by culture because your family is Muslim, but those are only rituals to you if you don’t believe in them in your heart. What you believe in your heart is what is true! Christ is already in your heart! And he is with you because you believe!”

Her eyes grew bigger and bigger as I spoke. And just at the time, my sister in-law, who had been listening right outside my room with her child, came in my room and began a long story of how she had been sick recently and had been to the doctor this morning to get a shot. She wanted me to pray for her. Just then her drunk husband walked into my room, carrying on about a lot of nonsense, hiccupping through the entire conversation. And as he made a big scene, embarrassed, she quietly slipped out. Mah Benti also told me she was going to bed after he finally left my room. But not before she turned around to tell me that he was an insult to the family and to his wife. I hugged Mah Benti, told her I loved her, and sent her to bed.

After she left, I took some time to pray. My heart was heavy for my sister-in law as I saw her in her own way reach out to me for something. What I know from the time I have lived here is that this particular my brother in law is abusive, and often times I wake up to my sister in laws screams. I’ve seen him hit her once, which is not uncommon in this culture. There are days I walk out of my room to leave for school and my, “Bonjour, Ca va?” is met with a slow head shake, as she diverts her eyes to the ground. I’ve noticed that she is treated like an outcast amongst the family. As if she is beneath them.

I know that for my safety, getting in the middle of that situation, would not be the best idea. And I’m not going to tell her to leave her husband or even talk to her about the abuse, subjects that would be disgraceful to address. Statistically, 84% of Guinean women believe that their husbands are supposed to beat them if they perform poorly. Leaving him at this time would be a huge feat considering she has no outside family. But what I do hope to offer her, for now, is hope. Hope in something greater than her, beyond herself and her situation.

Hope that someone loves her. Even if it’s just a girl from half way around the world living next door to her now.

There is always somewhere to begin.

So many say they believe in something, in Christ, in God, in Atheism, in Islam, in Hinduism but when asked why, they stumble to express the source. If you are a Christian, take the time to truly search your heart, the bible, prayer, and find why you believe in Christ. Go beyond, “he died for my sins”, or “because he’s the only truth”. Go beyond the usual answers that the Church has regurgitated for centuries. Make it personal. One reason why so many people are turned off by Christianity is because most of us have no clue what we believe or why we believe it. We believe because we believe……and that’s it. People need to see more than just words, more than just religious acts. Religion often has choked the life out of the beauty and bliss of the graceful and fiery revolutionary who gave his life that we might truly begin to live ours.

If you don’t believe in Christ, I urge you to take a step past what you’ve heard from church, religious leaders, and religious Christians and find who he really is. The truth, passion, and simplicity of his life and death is far more compelling than most of what is popularly echoed. It’s worth it. Believe me :-)

PSI in Guinea

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Smile, and hope for the best

2012-01-23 15:35:00

Here is the link to the organization that I'll be working with, and what they're doing in Guinea - Check-it out!

http://www.psi.org/guinea

Change in Plans

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Smile, and hope for the best

2012-01-20 21:13:00

"Your profession is not what brings home your paycheck. Your profession is what you were put on earth to do. With such passion and intensity that it becomes spiritual in calling." - Vincent Van Gogh

Since site visit there have been concerns and issues raised about my site and partner organization. Due to some things that I didn't write about and the fact that there is another organization that has been anxiously waiting for a Response volunteer with experience in marketing for health related programs, my post has been changed.

Now I'll be working with PSI (Population Services International) in Labe. I am really excited about this new position, I think that it lines up really well with my past experiences and interests and cannot wait to get started working with them!

I am disappointed that the original position did not work out, and hope that the organization can develop and possibly work to organize and receive a volunteer later on.

Like Van Gogh said in the quote at the beginning of this post, "your profession is what you were put on this earth to do," and I feel that in this new position I'll have that passion and motivation that will create a more impact-full service.

Yes we Kankan!

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Francophone Michelle

2012-01-20 21:15:00

I have been waiting to make that joke for quite a while. I haven’t had internet much recently and, to be honest, the idea of writing up all I have been doing was a little overwhelming. I’ll try to summarize what I’ve done without droning on too long, for my sake and yours.

New Years Day, myself and the other AGFO and public health volunteers climbed a nearby mountain, ‘Le Chien qui Fume’. It was an interesting hike, since the path was very narrow and didn’t actually go all the way to the top. At one point we had to machete through a wall of brush and make a tunnel that we then crouched/ crawled through. The view from the top was great though, and we all felt very accomplished upon reaching the top. Because it is currently the dry season, it was too hazy to see all the way to the ocean as I’ve heard you can do, but it was cool nonetheless.

On the 4^th, we all headed to Mamou to do a workshop with our Guinean counterparts. This was mainly to go over what the PC is and what is expected of both volunteers and counterparts. It was also a chance to get to know our counterparts before we all went our sepearte ways for site visits. The workshop was held at an agroforestry school, which was especially fortunate for us AGFO volunteers, because we got to see a wide variety of tree species we hadn’t seen before and had a session on tree identification and uses.

We all left with our counterparts that Saturday to head to our sites. Several of us shared a bush taxi to Kankan, with 10 people in it (one counterpart in the trunk!). It was about a twelve hour trip over very bumpy roads. Fortunately, my site in Kankan was right along the route of the bush taxi, so I did not have to go very far once we arrived. Others still had another two hour trip north after arriving in Kankan.

Kankan is very much a ville (city). The roads are crowded with motorcycles and bicycles, although there are very few cars. The president of Guinea has recently pushed for increasing the accessibility of electricity in Kankan, so power lines are going up all over. This is great for me because it means I have almost constant access to soft serve ice cream and cold Coke. It is also a very spread out city and takes at least an hour and half to walk from one end to the other.

The quartier I am living in is called Dar Es Salaam. It is about a twenty minute walk from Bordo, which is where my groupement’s garden is located. A groupement is basically just an organization of people. I am working with one called Fasso Demain, which is primarily a women’s group who practices market gardening. My counterpart, Conde (pronounced con-day), is the president of the groupement’s son. The groupement is very very enthusiastic. When I met them, they all danced in joy for my arrival. Then when they heard my Guinean name (Mahawa Conde), they all danced again!

There are two research centers located in Bordo as well. One is an agricultural research center that I will be working with. One scientist there is a consulter for Fasso Demain and I have been promised an office there. They have a wealth of research that simply hasn’t been shared with the average Guinean, so I am hoping, as a PCV, to bridge that gap. The other center works with bushrats (e.g. agouti). One way people hunt for agouti is by setting bush fires to scare the animals into traps. Unfortunately, this can lead to uncontrolled bush fires, a major cause of deforestation in Guinea. This research center is working on learning how to raise agouti domestically, to lower the incidence of bush fires. I’m not sure what exactly I will be doing with them, but they have offered to bring me along on several workshops to observe and help when I can.

I am staying in a new house in Kankan next to my counterpart’s house. It is one big room with a queen size bed and inside latrine. The front porch is ringed by a little garden that my counterpart has begun planting, although it looks pretty sad right now because the goats and sheep keep snacking on it. I am hoping to plant some herbs and flowers when I move-in in February.

Now I’m in Dubreka for the final two weeks of training. We are learning our local languages (Malinka for me) and some final technical skills. Yesterday we made papaya jam and are in the process of making sun-dried tomatoes. I will definitely be doing a lot of that at site! Everyone is very excited because the African Cup starts this weekend and Guinea is in it! I imagine we will be watching a lot of soccer over the coming week.

For those of you who don’t know, the official swear-in date for my stage (G21) is February 3^rd. The ceremony is supposed to be televised (only in Guinea, sorry) and we are all getting matching outfits for it. Shortly after that, I will be heading out to Kankan to officially start my Peace Corps service.

Anbe kofe, huh? (See you later in Malinka)

Contradictory Oxymorons

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea BecauseWeOughta

2012-01-20 21:09:00

Anybody who is African or lived in Africa for some time knows there are some things you see and hear that are just distinctly African.

Everyday I see something interesting. And by interesting I mean strange and amusing.

I have daily random goat sightings. In my yard, outside of cafes, on the steps of the mosques, on rooftops, following me home, strapped to the top bush taxis underneath suitcases. I have at least 20 pics of random goats. There’s a website and a theme song in the works. Stay tuned.

Guinean movies are hysterical. What’s funniest about them is the random American songs they will have as the sound track for the most uncomplimentary points of the movie. Like the title song from the Titanic playing as the main character creeps into the room to kill the young lady sleeping inside. Yes. Celine Dion playing in the background of the most sinister scene of the movie. Or “La Bamba” playing when a good husband finds out his wife is pregnant by his best friend. “La Bamba”? Seriously? I couldn’t help but thinking I’m sure (insert name of guy who wrote and sang La Bamba) could not have put money on his song playing decades later in a movie spoken completely in Sousou half way around the world. No one in the room knows why I’m laughing.

I regularly get at least 3 or 4 marriage proposals per day. Going out dancing is hilarious. Here is the convo:

Random Guy: Come here American girl.

Me: (turn to my right) yes?

Random Guy: (in his best English) what is your name?

Me: My name is Fatou Sylla

Random Guy: (back to French) You are beautiful. I love you.

Me: But you just met me.

Random Guy: I want to make you my wife and I love you.

Me: (awkwardly smiles and walks away)

He will leave his post at the bar to dance next to me and friends for the rest of the night and repeat the fact that he loves me. Oh I didn’t mention he’s at least in his 40’s or 50’s. And I will be his 3^rd wife.

The resale of Goodwill rejects in Africa is another source of constant hilarity. The biggest guy in Dubreka walks around with a hot pink shirt that says, “I’m a girl and I love it”.

I looked at my flashlight last night and noticed it had a picture of an american flag, a full length picture of the Guinean president.....and was made in Russia. Quoi?

Generosity goes to a whole new level here. I told my family I love tomatoes the first day and that I loved the salad they served me. Since then I have salad every night, with tomatoes. I said in passing that I loved pineapples and the next day, despite the cost of the pineapples, my dad served me 3 with my dinner. The selfless generosity I see here on a daily basis is something I want to immolate.

But then it just gets a bit crazy sometimes. I was sitting outside eating dinner with my father and noticed there was what sounded like a TV in my brother in laws room. I had never seen one there before, so I asked my father, “Is that a TV in Mohammed’s room?” He said yes. For the next hour they worked on fixing the broken generator, pulling a table outside, and setting the TV up all so that I could watch it outside while I ate dinner. No, no, no, no I insist! I’m thinking about saying I love horses and seeing what happens.

Or how about the constant barrage of breasts, flailing in the wind, that are whipped out in the most inopportune times. Like taking off your shirt in the middle of church, or at the market, or during a conversation about your organization. I find myself saying in my head, “You’re not taking off your shirt are you, you’re not pulling your breasts out right now, please not now…..wow yep you are.” But knees? No knees are far too taboo to show in public.

Aside from the funny incidences of my everyday life, I have some of the most peacefully, beautiful snapshots.

Walking to school late in the morning, as I am usually late, the sun rising behind the mountains as the school children gather and gossip on their way to school. It’s breathtaking. The road that I walk each day to the Peace Corps training site is draped with low hanging large mango trees and women peddling their street side wares. Everyone tells me, the “fote” or white person, “Bonjour!” or “Tana mouri” in Sousou. And everyone gets a kick out of me speaking their language.

I love how my family will often go out of their way to give me something that reminds me of home. I came to dinner yesterday and there was a single golden delicious, yellow apple sitting at my table setting. My family laughed hysterically as I tripped out over this apple. It was crisp, juicy, amazing, and the first apple I’ve seen in a month. Definition of bliss.

New Years isn’t as celebratory here as in the states or other countries. But my organizational counterpart while I’m in Dubreka, the leader of a women’s empowerment cooperative, invited me and 3 of my project partners to her home for lunch on New Year’s eve. We sat down in her beautiful courtyard to a liter bottle of a cold pink drink. We poured them into 3 tall American glasses to find to our delight that it was a frozen smoothie made from the fruit of the Baobab tree!! OMG! It was amazing and the most refreshing thing I’ve tasted in country. We had an amazing spread that kept coming: keke (shaved cassava with onions, tomatoes, and cucumbers), sautéed onions, fried chicken and fish, papaya, and pasta. After engorging ourselves, we relaxed in the shade on comfortable leather couches and had a moving conversation about our pasts, the present, and our dreams, relishing the slight breeze that cooled our brows. Sigh. Lovely.

The week before last, I met a 14 year old girl who is literally a mini Wiatta and I know I’m not supposed to have favorites….buuuuut, lol. Her name is Martha. But she said she wanted an American name from me so I call her Jessica now, which produces a burst of giggles. She brought me to her house, where I met her equally intelligent, independent, and beautiful sisters. I found also that her family is Protestant Christian, living within a community of Muslims. They invited me to their church (yes there are 2 churches in Dubreka!) which meets underneath a huge, striking Baobab tree 2 blocks behind my house. The Sunday before I left for Labe, I found that protestant in Guinea means non-denominational. I went to service and it was enchanting, filled with drumming, dancing, singing, and praying. I was absolutely moved to tears watching my people praise God so openly and with such fervor. I don’t think I will ever tire of the off key, random arrangements of worship music of the West African churches I’ve attended. It seems as if they sing with such passion unconcerned with pitch, tune, or sequence.

Carelessly beautiful and uncommonly inspiring.

And this is how I have felt about Africa in general for a long time. Dusty streets and byways are plagued by littering as a result of the lack of mass trash disposal systems. Shallow well water systems contaminated by human waste make drinking and even bathing a bit scary. Shaking hands with people immediately brings up thoughts of hand sanitizer and the absolutely gorgeous and gregarious children are often carrying germs that I try to block out of my mind as they playfully paw my face. The lack of critical thinking skills due to a Stone Age rote memorization school system and the desperate need for good teachers makes conversations often circular. And the list continues. Yet even with the systemic problems endemic in many African countries, I am still utterly in love with this continent and my people. I haven’t quite found how to describe how my heart breaks over and over again--and is also continually healed. Africa is challengingly beautiful.

My mother and father repeatedly tell me in the states to stop and smell the roses. I’m often running haggard at home, trying to get to the next goal, the next project, the next vacation, the next country. But without regular internet, electricity, and with the intent goal of learning a new culture, I’ve been able to do here what is difficult for me in the states. There’s so much to see and take in here, it’s impossible not to automatically slow down, and breathe. I realized yesterday sitting at the breakfast table eating my bread and drinking coffee, feeling the breeze and just looking out the window, taking in my surroundings and the fact that I’m here….that I don’t get to do this in the states. All together, the funny, the negative, the blissfully beautiful, is my home. And I want to enjoy every minute.

Stop. Breathe. Feel. Take the time to see more of your community, your neighbors, your friends, your family, your surroundings than just point a and b in your schedule. You’ve heard it before, you know it’s good for you. But still you don’t do it. Make the time.

Because it’s necessary to stay alive.

My prayer for you is that in this simple act you will find something that causes your heart to break over and over again…..and be continually healed :-)

Back From Site Visit!

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Kenny's Peace Corps Adventure in Guinea

2012-01-19 17:30:09

Hey Everyone! I am sorry that it took me so long to post a blog. I’ve been super busy the past two weeks and I have not had access to the internet until now. My past two weeks in Guinea were designed to provide me with a preview of what’s to come for me as a Peace Corps Volunteer. These past two weeks have been very interesting and have made me even more excited about service in the Peace Corps. This preview of what is to come began with the counterpart workshop in Mamou, Guinea. At this workshop, we were able to meet our counterpart that we would work with for the next two years. The workshop was really helpful but challenging for me because all the sessions were in French. As some of you know, coming into the Peace Corps, I did not have much experience with French. This has by far been the most challenging aspect of my service thus far. I am really enjoying my time here in Guinea and the wonderful experiences I have had so far but the fact that I am still learning French is quite daunting. I have to reach the “Intermediate-High” Level before we depart for site in the second week of February. Wish me luck! Sorry about the tangent! At the counterpart workshop, we also got the opportunity to meet and work with our counterparts! I don’t even know where to begin the discussion about my counterpart. My counterpart is by far the most eccentric and intense person that I have ever met in my life. He appears to be very excited to work with me which is definitely a good thing but I am envisioning some “interesting” times/moments ahead of me (I have already had a mini preview of what’s come. I’ll elaborate later). I feel like after working two years with this person, I will be set for life in terms of working with people. After the conclusion of the counterpart workshop, we left for our sites with our counterparts. This was my first experience with a long-distance bush taxi in Africa, but thankfully, since all the volunteers were leaving at the same time for the same area, we shared a bush taxi. Our taxi, which was headed to Kankan (my site), was a station wagon designed for about 8 people. We ended up with a total of 10 people (5 counterparts and 5 volunteers) in the car not including the driver. Two people in the passenger seat, four in the second row, three in the last row and one person in the trunk (Guess who was in the trunk???….my counterpart! lol For some reason, I feel as if my counterpart is the only one among the counterparts that would actually do this!) The ride to Kankan was long and took practically all day because most of the roads in Guinea are really bad. If you could only see how the taxi driver has to drive in order to avoid potholes, the occasional cow that decides to stand in the middle of the road and any other distraction that you could possibly think of. In all honesty, it feels as if the driver is playing Mario Kart racing but in real life in the middle of Africa. I kid you not. There were many times during the trip in which we actually traveled on the side of the road because the actual road is so terrible. We left early in the morning at around 7:30/8 and we arrived in Kankan in the evening around 7pm or so. As I described above, it was a long day of traveling and I was extremely tired so this definitely played an effect on my initial perception of my site. In all honesty, the first night at my site, I did not like the place where I would live for the next two years at all. We got in super late, I was extremely tired and there was also no power at my site. I kind of had a mini realization that I was in Africa. I’ve been living with an amazing host family that have provided me with everything I’ve needed thus far. For instance, electricity in Guinea is generally very sparse and comes on occasionally, but this is not the experience I have had so far with my amazing host family. My family has a generator that they run quite often so I have some exposure to power practically every day since I moved in with my host family. My first night at my site in Kankan was my first real night without any power. Basically, when I got to site, I called my parents and other volunteers to rant about my site and I got some pretty sound advice which was to basically go to sleep and assess what you have the next day. The next day I woke up, I felt like a complete idiot for not liking my place. My place is really awesome and is really nice compared to what other volunteers normally receive as volunteer. I do not have the best or worst space but it is definitely a place I can see myself for the next two years in Kankan. The room that I have is attached to the bureau of the organization that I will work with so it has many perks! For instance, I am in a compound that has guards 24/7, my room is tiled; I have a western style toilet that flushes and an awesome bed! I also have a tv, dvd player and an ac but I have no power. I will have to convince my organization to run the generator for me at night or buy my own. I hope we can work something out. I took photos and a video of my place! I will try my best to post them, but the internet here is really slow. I can definitely get the photos up but I am not sure about the video. Kankan is a really awesome city! I can definitely see myself living here for the next two years! Kankan is one of the largest cities in Guinea and is the home of the largest university in Guinea. I have already found places that I will more than likely go to all the time. With the help of some volunteers that already live in Kankan, I’ve found two ice cream shops, a hamburger place and three really great restaurants. I can’t wait until I actually live in Kankan so that I can learn even more about the city. Another thing about Kankan is that I should have pretty stable access to the internet! For the first half of my visit in Kankan, I spent all of my time with my counterpart. My counterpart showed me a lot of the city and was a great host. We had a few awkward moments that I will post about in my future blogs. We’ll that’s it for now! Hopefully, I’ll update the blog next week on Thursday!

Accepting a Simpler Life

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea A Spectacular Journey

2012-01-19 12:25:00

Daft Punk is playing at my house!

Standing in the front door.

My bedroom...

And the bathroom!

These lastfew weeks have been busy! I journeyed halfway across Guinea and back, cleanedup midnight vomit (not my own), ate a pound of red dust on a taxi ride, and taughtsome Guinean children the Electric Slide. I befriended the Port Chief and oneof his four wives; she taught me how to deep-fry a fish over the fire. Mycounterpart, Tounkara, begrudgingly tried the peanut butter and banana sandwichthat I said would change his life (it didn’t). The fishermen taught me how torepair nets, I got multiple lessons about fish names, and Tounkara even thinksI’ll be able to find someone to help me prepare a goat. In Koba, I becameaccustomed to a lack of electricity, a lack of running water, and a constantbarrage of attention from local children. It was everything I’d imagined andmore.

An old tree that sits over the port.

But in theend I had to come back.

With a stop for Internet along the way!

After sitevisit, all the stories of everyone else’s perks and amenities started to floodin. Now’s when I have to be careful; when I let my guard down and let mythoughts wander, when I lost sight of my goals and dwell on my baserinclinations, I start to get jealous of what other people have. Jealousy issuch an ugly and useless emotion, especially when it’s directed towards thingsthat can’t be changed. I really couldn’t have asked for a better site. Thewhole time I was there, I kept discovering new places to explore and new peopleto meet, and had a running list of all the new projects and activities that Icouldn’t wait to start. So why am I getting fussy over, for example, a lack ofInternet? More and more I have to remind myself: “Though many had venturedfarther and done so in finer style, my journey was my own.” My journey is stillin progress, and it’s useless to draw comparisons to the opportunities andexploits of others. And besides, the best strategy to combat internal jealousyis to have such a rollicking good time of my own that everyone else startsseething with envy.

Food makes things bearable.

So that’sit. There may be low moments in the future, but I’ll only be reporting on thethings that make you dance in your seat and wish to God that you’d had theclanging brass balls that I do; that you’d had the burning passion and recklesscourage to do what I’ve done.

Stay chill, y'all

[Guinean news] Deadly rioting in Kamsar over power cuts

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea News from Guinea and Friends of Guinea

2012-01-18 19:36:00

Riots erupted in the northwestern town of Kamsar and one person was killed. The protests erupted in response to repeated power outages the mining town. An official for the mining company CBG said protesters blocked the railroad tracks but were dislodged by the army, according to Reuters.AFP added that over 30 were injured after soldiers fired on the protesters. The police station and gendarmerie were reportedly attacked and vehicles set ablaze.

I hope that there are some development wonks slapping the foreheads right now

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea En Afrique

2012-01-18 18:06:00

Reading this piece just made me close my eyes and think "I should have thought of that". It is talking about Conditional Cash Transfers, the hot new way to work on development issues. Of course, one could also say that the real objective is wealth transfer, something I'm not opposed to. Anyway, quote below:

Seeing a child like a state: Holding the poor accountable for bad schools -- Guest post by Lant Pritchett
SUBMITTED BY ANONYMOUS ON TUE, 2012-01-03 19:24
In the early 20^th century Helen Todd, a factory inspector in Chicago, interviewed 500 children working in factories, often in dangerous and unpleasant conditions. She asked children the question: “If your father had a good job and you didn’t have to work, which would you rather do—go to school or work in a factory?” 412 said they would choose factory work. One fourteen year old girl, who was interviewed lacquering canes in an attic working with both intense heat and the constant smell of turpentine, said “School is the fiercest thing you can come up against. Factories ain’t no cinch, but schools is worst.”

The recent expansion of the “ASER-like” simple assessments of literacy and numeracy skills of all children in a village based approach provides an accurate, and chilling, picture of just how little learning is going on inside schools in many poor countries. The ASER data can show the learning profile, the association of measured skills and grade completion, by showing what fraction of children who have completed which grade can read a simple story (expected of a child in grade 2) or do simple arithmetic operations.  Take Uttar Pradesh in 2010. By the end of lower primary school (grade 5) only one in four children could divide. Even by grade 8, the end of upper primary only 56 percent could.   Similarly, by grade 5 only 44 percent could read a level 2 paragraph and by grade 8 still only 77.6 could.   A large plurality of children, even of those that had persisted and been promoted through eight full grades or primary school—roughly 8000 hours of available total instruction—were either illiterate or innumerate or both.

Even these children can however see the disparity in accountability between them and their teachers. The regular civil service teachers in Uttar Pradesh are massively privileged: making over three times the market wage, no accountability, not even to show up for work, and able to mistreat students with impunity. Data from the 2005 India Human Development Survey (Desai, Dubey, Vanneman, and Banerji 2008) show that 29 percent of parents report their child was “beaten or pinched” in government schools in the previous month. Worse, a child from the poorest group of households is almost twice as likely to be beaten or pinched in a government school than a child from the richest group of households. This is in contrast to private schools which show no income favoritism in beating. Studies consistently find absence rates of regular teachers in government schools in UP around 25 percent—not to mention low rates of effort when in attendance.

Recent research (Atherton and Kingdon 2010) shows that if somehow UP in 2009 had been able to replace its regular teachers making around 11,000 rupees a month with contract teachers working for 3000 rupees a month that UP could have saved more than a billion dollars (Roughly 600,000 primary and upper primary teachers times 8000 rupees monthly wage differential (11000 less 3000) times 12 months divided by 45 rupees/$). This replacement of regular with contract teachers would appear to double child learning per year as the estimated “contract teacher” impact on learning, controlled econometrically as finely as possible for cofounding effects like selection using student and school fixed effects, is roughly the same as an additional year with a regular teacher.

Suppose you are a child from a poor household approaching adolescence in Uttar Pradesh who has struggled through years of schooling without learning anything, been promoted from year to year with no attention to your actual learning, perhaps even regularly beaten or threatened by teachers.   You might consider dropping out of this “fierce” thing called school.

But wait. The development technocracy with its latest rigorous research methods and can-do, expansion of “what works” attitude has the solution to your drop-out problem: they will threaten your mother.   This is a wildly new popular class of programs called “conditional cash transfers” which has spread from its origins in Mexico and Brazil to over 30 countries. The design is simple, use some targeting method to determine eligible households and offer the eligible households cash (often paid to the mother of the household) but only if all their school aged children stay in school. These conditional cash transfers, to no one’s surprise, have been rigorously proven to reduce child drop-out.

For the state and those that see for the state and like the state, see the problem of child drop-out is a problem of the household not complying with the state’s objective to universalize enrollment. The obvious solution is to make the poor child and poor households more accountable to the state’s narrowly drawn objective of increasing enrollment. That the real goal was to properly educate the child gets lots in the counting. Once the problem of education is re-defined so that the state can easily see and measure it as schooling then forcing a child back into a disastrous school counts exactly as much in increasing enrollment as attracting children to stay in school because they are learning.

Of course in cases like Uttar Pradesh it is obvious the reality is that the functionaries of the state are not accountable to citizens for adequate, or even humane, service delivery. However “seeing” that teachers should be more accountable for a quality of schooling experience that would retain students however requires seeing what even a child can see, but which the state has no interest in seeing, and hence no capability to see. Holding powerful teachers accountable, while cost-saving and learning increasing, is politically difficult. Even giving poor people a choice in where their children attend school is politically difficult to get by the educationist lobby. But holding poor people accountable is always politically easy.

Of course when CCTs force children back into school the children might not learn to read and might not learn to divide, but they will learn an important, if tragic, life lesson: when you are poor the state has power and you do not.

Dream... crushed.

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea En Afrique

2012-01-18 18:24:00

So, Corinna and I no longer have a house in the mountains. We were really house sitting for two years in it, and it's become likely we cannot fulfill the house sitting responsibilities because it's becoming very likely that we will not be able to stay in Malawi for more than a month or two longer. There is a good chance we'll return here, but in the meantime, opportunity lost.

When Life gives you Citrons, make Citronnade

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Heart. Soul. Guinea

2012-01-17 17:46:22

I don’t think I can fully describe these past 2 weeks properly. If this is just a preview of what my next 2 years will look like, I will need to fill myself with patience, understanding; keep/enhance my sense of humor about everything and, as it turns out, no …I really do hate rodents. But, I am getting ahead of myself. Are you ready? This one is a long one and a little harder to swallow. Let’s start from the beginning.

Mamou

So, this is the end of the year- long puzzle. Well, it is really like the end of one puzzle and the beginning of an even more complicated and intense one. There is the whole Peace Corps application process and waiting for my departure date to come and the country, then the wait to see how the fellow trainees would be like, then what training would be like, then what our sites would be, then counterpart meeting and then finally seeing your site and meet the organization you will be working with. See, the puzzle is extensive. Well, this past week, this puzzle was finally pieced together. It all started in Mamou, a 4-hour squishy ride on the PC bus north into the Fouta region of Guinea. While Baste Cote (where Dubreaka and Conarky are) is very humid, somewhat green and hot, the Fouta region is cooler, greener and has more mountains. Like most of the trainees here, I am sure this is the Guinea you would like to visit. Anyway, like I was saying, Mamou is a decent bus ride north from Dubreka. It was a pretty ride filled with scenic mountain landscapes, some of which remind me of Cali. On our way there, we stopped to get gas, and we stumbled across possibly the best gas station in all of Guinea. They had ice-cold drinks, banana-flavored milk (who knew that existed), PRINGLES and legit chocolate. It was our Mecca, and it was fantastic. After my soda and chocolate fix, we hopped back on the bus and made our way to Mamou’s agro-forestry university, where we were to meet and spend 3 days with our counterparts. I should explain what a counterpart, or as they say in French, homologue, does. A counterpart is supposed to be your guide and help during your service. They are supposed to be the person you come to help you with projects and help facilitate cultural understandings and language. Anyway, the university is gorgeous. It sits on a mountain and has spectacular views of valleys below. We were set up dorm-style with 3 to a room and all 33 of us sharing some pit latrines, showers and sinks. As roommates, I had one of my closest friends here, Hilary, in the room and fellow CEDer, Ashley, who I now count as a friend after a certain bowel movement episode. I decided that on this blog, I will not talk in detail about sicknesses, so remind me to tell you the story when I get back to The States. Anyway, these 2 girls are troopers.

But more importantly, how was the meeting with the counterpart? Well…awkward and disappointing at first. It is awkward and nerve-wreaking meeting someone for the first time as it is, let alone someone you have to spend 2 years with and, oh yeah, you don’t speak the same language. I quickly met her the first time and wasn’t sure what to ask or say beyond “Bon Voyage?” I stood here awkwardly and soon she figured it would be best if she just leave it at that and proceeded to speak to one of the other female counterparts. I wasn’t sure what to expect from that first meeting, but it wasn’t that. It was just so strange. The awkwardness continued throughout the next 3 days as the debate wore on, should I sit with her during lunch/dinner? Is it rude if I don’t? What small talk can I make during the coffee breaks? My first impression of her was that she was cold. I guess, in my head, I figured that since we were both women, we might just click instantly. This was most definitely not the case. She seemed disinterested in speaking to me and, at times, intense in her manner of speaking. I had an awful first day of the workshop. It was intense because it was all in French and contained many sessions over a period of 8 hours as you sat next to your counterpart trying to make small talk. The worst part was during one of the session when we had to ask each other questions about our lives; work, ect and my counterpart proceeded to, as I was mid sentence, to motion over some of our language trainers to translate my French. They literally repeated the very words I had just said. I was shocked and offended. Why was she asking to translate the exact words/sentence structure as I said 2 seconds ago? I know my accent is bad, but come on! I was pissed. This American was angry. I kept thinking how this relationship was supposed to work if you can’t bear my terrible accent? She was going to have to fill herself with patience…lots of it. The sudden culture shock that I got that very moment was almost too much to handle. How was this person who is cold, stand-offish and basically can’t stand when I speak, supposed to be my friend and confidant? It didn’t help that through my perspective, everyone else and their counterpart seem to get along famously. I felt like she and I were both equally disappointed with one another. I was so frustrated after. However, almost at the most perfect time, care packagers from Conarky arrived, and I had one waiting for me! THANKS MOM AND DAD!! It could not have come at a moment I needed it more. I made my entire night much better and helped me start the following day with a more positive attitude.

The counterpart workshop, overall, was very trying. It was definitely the hardest thing we have had to do by far. I wanted to understand where my counterpart was coming from and tried to see if it was just some cultural difference or, if we actually, really didn’t like each other, so I spoke with Kristine about it. She made some valid points that I hadn’t really considered. For one, being in this environment that is so male-dominated can be very hard for a women counterpart. I did see that during our sessions, the women counterparts in the group rarely spoke, and if they did, very quietly. The situation itself for her was probably not ideal. After some research, it turns out that my counterpart’s first language is not French but Malinke, which may account for the incident with the language trainers. Also, I have been in a safe, welcoming and positive summer camp environment for the past 6 weeks. I was just served a plate of freezing cold truth. Not everyone will be so willing to help me learn French or the patience that the trainers have had with us. Like I said, I have to fill myself with understanding and patience. That is not to say that the awkwardness won’t go away. That one is here to stay for a while.

So, as a little recap on the Fouta region, here is what I know for sure:

1)There are monkeys here!! OMG! They are little spider-money sized, but they are adorable and super mischievous as they like to make tons of noise by banging on tin roofs as we had our sessions.

2)The Fouta love them some salsa. The last night at Mamou, some of us went to this really nice hotel bar/nightclub, and they played salsa music all night long. It was awesome, and everyone got really into it.

3)Small children here enjoy doing some casual yoga. Before dinner one night, Lane, one of the other trainees and a total yogi, asked a couple of us if we would like to practice. I said yes along with Abe, Hilary and Ashley. As we were doing yoga, the little kids joined in doing the same poses and trying to say the same words as Lane was. It was cute, funny and, I really wished I would have taken a picture.

Trip to Siguiri

The next few sections of this blog post will show that I am either a real badass or really crazy. My trip from Mamou to Siguiri took 13 hours. We left at 8 am and, I got to the city at 9 pm. I am the farthest away and had the longest trip out of the G21 group (badass point #1-#2). The main reason for our long voyage was the condition of the roads. Car-sick prone people beware. Here is a little interesting tit-bit about the roads in Guinea: there are so many potholes on the actual paved road that taxis, cars and giant trucks have to drive off the road in the rocky dusty ground. It is pretty counterproductive situation. In the taxi, there were a total of 10 of us crammed in real tight-5 trainees and 5 counterparts (one of which slept in the truck- he is real eccentric). Beyond the fact that we basically had to cross the entire span of the country and deal with terrible roads, the taxi also took multiple breaks throughout the ride. These aren’t your usual gas station breaks. First, we had the men-pee-in-the-bushes-off-the-side-of-the-road break. Then, we had our lunch break, which turned into the oh-damn-the-tire-deflated-so-now-we-wait-for-the-driver –to fix- it break. Finally, we had the find-the-nearest-mosque-so-the-driver-can-pray-and-the-trainees-can-find-Obama-juice break. Just as a side note, everything here is either named after Obama or has Obama’s face on it.

Once we had a sufficient amount of dust in our lungs and we could no longer feel our legs, the sign for Kankan finally appeared. Kankan is the regional capital of Haute Guinea, where our regional house is, and only 2 hours south of Siguiri. Anyway, Kankan was the final destination for 3 out of the 5 of us, so we started to disembark people. I have to say that those 11 hours together really bonded us all. We had a good time chatting and laughing for the majority of the trip. After the Kankan people got off, Chris (the nearest volunteer to me-only about 15k away) and I had to wait at another taxi stop for our ride up north. Waiting for the taxi to fill up took another hour. When we finally got on our way, I was thrilled o see that the road to Siguiri was PERFECT! Not a single pothole. It is crazy the vast difference just 2 hours earlier. By the time I got to Siguiri and the taxi had dropped off Chris, I was basically dead. I was so physically tired. When the taxi dropped my counterpart and I off, we were picked up by the boss of ROFC and then toured around for what felt like 2 hours. They went to drop things off and get me some bread and butter for dinner. The whole time I kept thinking, where am I going to stay and when can I go to sleep. Then, they stopped the car and opened a gate to show me where I was going to stay for 2 years. I won’t call it a house, because it is not. My counterpart and the boss showed me a small dusty room with the mattress still in the plastic and told me this was my room and where I was going to stay for the next two years. They then proceed to shine their flashlight, because keep in mind; this was at like 9pm, the couple of brick walls that were to be my pit latrine and well. I think due to my level of tiredness and overall exhaustion; I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I thought I was going to be hysterical. I didn’t have any place to stay! I barely have a room and no actual living space. I didn’t have any privacy because my one window faces the house in front, and I obviously have no space. I thought I was dreaming. Nonetheless, once we were done touring, since my site was still under construction, they took me to the house of one of the other bosses of ROFC and told me that I would be staying in a room in the house during my 3-day stay. It was basically like a host family situation all over again. By the time I got to sleep and they were done showing me places and things, it was almost midnight. I took the advice that my mom has always given me since I was a little kid and told myself that tomorrow was a new day and was a day of better things to come.

3 Days in Siguiri

Here are three things about Siguiri that I like from first impression: 1) lots of electricity, sometimes for more than 15 hours in the day, 2) cold drinks, due to the amount of electricity, they have plenty and 3) an awesome market, and there is so much food and random items that are available. So, one of the first things I did during my first day in Siguiri, was change my last name…my African last name. I am still going by Mariame, but instead of Troude, my last name is going to be Camera. There are many Cameras in the area and there is a whole cultural thing here about joking about being from a better family as a way of socializing and apparently Camera is a good last name to have. Thus, my new name is Mariame Camera. In Siguiri, I realized how different my host mother and her place and lifestyle are from the chef’s (French for boss) house. From simple things like eating with utensils to not having a toilet but a pit latrine, it was like a different world and made me realize how lucky I am to have a host mother who understands me and my quirks. So, my second host family experience was very interesting. It was definitely strange living with another family. They gave me a room and my own pit latrine (which was outside). Since it was not my room and contained some daily necessities like bags of rice, people often came in and out of it. As you would imagine, this made things a little awkward. Showering in a pit latrine while trying to forget about the smell of it and avoiding the cockroaches that crawl up and down the walls was an experience to say the least, as well. Haute Guinea is perhaps the poorest region of Guinea, but I may have underestimated what I was going to see. I got to see how people in the Haute live day to day, and let me tell you, it is hard work. Hard work that I will soon be participating in.

I have realized that training has really been like summer camp. That harsh reality struck me hard in Siguiri. I have been around tons of Americans, people that are trained to understand Americans and daily comfortable schedules. Our host families in Dubreka have assisted or done everything for us from cooking to laundry to fetching water from the well. This hard life is going to be an enriching and humbling experience for me once I get to site. On my second day in Siguiri, the chef and my counterpart showed up at the house to hold a presentation at the office. I was excited to see the office, which turned out to be quite cozy and nice. They even had a conference room. Anyway, I kept asking when the presentation was going to be and they just kept saying in the morning. However, as the morning passed and African time wore on, I had a growing suspicion that there wasn’t going to be a presentation. Well, I was right. The “presentation” was really just showing me around the office for 10 minutes. I had spend all of 10 minutes looking around the office, 10 minutes asking questions and the rest of 5 hours , I studied French at the conference table. Welcome to Africa. You feel like you have done a good day’s work if you did two things, as oppose to the US’s list of 20 daily activities and things-to-do. Also during the second day, I saw my site again in the daylight and not sleep deprived and thought it wasn’t that bad. While I still lack any real privacy and space, it is my own space. I was able to meet the neighbors who seem like lovely people, saw that I have a tailor next door and meet a group of people who make the most colorful and unique soap I have ever seen, and they are just 2 minutes from my place. So, I guess it is not all bad. I will definitely need to establish my boundaries and rules early on, but I think I can deal. *Knock on wood*. What I almost couldn’t deal with was what happened the night of my 2nd day in Siguiri. The first night that I got to the chef’s house, I heard a lot of noise coming from the corner of the room, keep in mind that the room has bags of rice and other food items in it. I thought I was hearing things, but soon realized that there was something in the room. It was making a lot of noise and it definitely sounded like a rodent. Now, I wasn’t absolutely sure, but I had a strong feeling it was. When the second night came, I forgot about the rodent for a split second, but as soon as the lights went out, the noise started again. Now, I can handle cockroaches and spiders, but rodents are just awful. I decided to listen to music and read a book to forget about the noise, but after 30 minutes, I was still pretty uneasy. So, I got up and turned on the light to find empty peanut castings near the feet of my mosquito net and near my head. I literally cringed. The rodent had left evidence of its existence on my bed. I was thankful that I was listening to music because if I felt or heard that rodent near my head, I would have flipped the fuck out. Pardon my French. When I saw the peanut castings, I was done. I quietly got up, took my blanket with me and headed to the couch in the next room. I slept there until 5am before the rest of the family woke up, so I won’t have to explain why I slept on their couch and made a lot of noise until 7am to avoid seeing the rodent once I was back in my room. It was not a pleasant night to say the least. But, again, this tested my patience and sense of humor…a lot.

On the third day of my stay, I went to see the city government officials at the prefecture of Siguiri. Instead of states like in the U.S., Guinea is divided up into prefectures with its own government structure in each. I went to visit the attorney general, the secretary of ________, ect. It was an interesting experience and important to the Guinean culture because it is necessary to introduce new people to higher-ups, as well as show me the people I will need to contact to work on projects. What is also a part of Guinean culture is the vast difference in social status between men and women. Men are often sent to school and have less household chores than the women. When I was staying at the chef’s house, I saw the 3 girls in the house work all day to clean and cook. I didn’t see them go to school. I figure it is too early to approach the topic of education with the chef, but I would like to ask him later on in my service why the girls don’t go to school. I would like to help girls in Siguiri one way or another during my service, so I think it is a good idea to start collecting information. Continuing with the day, after meeting many of the city officials, I learned a life lesson in Guinea. Life lesson #14: When being compared to a past volunteer and being called timid and shy, buy said persons Fantas to pursue them otherwise. Yup, the chef compared me to a past volunteer that was in Siguiri some 5 years ago. I wasn’t too pleased and figured it is never too early to buy their approval. Just kidding. I realize it was going to happen. I explained to them that like every Guinean, Americans differ from one and another greatly. As the last activity of the day, I went to Siguiri’s market and found it to be fantastic! There is a lot of different produce and things to buy. I loved it. I even got some fake gold earrings. I have to start representing the gold mining capital of Guinea.

Before leaving for Kankan for the regional capital visit, the Chef and my counterpart took me to meet one of the groupments made up of youth. Groupments are groups, mostly of women or youth, that meet to work on a certain skill or create a product, while using microcredit to advance their economic development. I met with a bunch of high schoolers and saw how they learned to sew and make African garments. The groupment teaches the high schoolers how to sew and make clothes, which gives them that skill, while still making a profit. It was great and the highlight of my trip to meet with the group. They seemed very excited to work with me. I even took home some of their official paperwork, so I can look through it and start working out some possible ways I could help.

Kankan=Party Town

So after the groupment visit, m y organization dropped me off at the crazy packed taxi stop and helped me get a taxi from Siguiri to Kankan. It felt good to be able to get a taxi and negotiate luggage prices in French. I am slowly figuring everything out. Once the taxi picked up Chris, we headed to Kankan, which was a 2-hour drive. Once we arrived at the regional house of PC, it was really really nice to see all of my G21 people. We acted like we hadn’t seen each other in like 4 months. I think we are all too attached. LOL. The Kankan house is like a mini version of the Conakry house. It is really cozy and great to hold all of us. In Haute Guinea right now, there are 14 people from G21 and 6 volunteers from G20. It is a great number to have and all of the education volunteers seem lovely and super happy to see us. So, the three days in the regional house was all about relaxation and unwinding. As a group, we just hang out, cooked and walked around Kankan in the day. At night, we would have a great time dancing on the rooftop terrace and playing games. We held parties all three night we were there. What can I say…GO HAUTE OR GO HOME!

On our second night in Kankan, the education volunteers and one of the response volunteers decided they wanted to throw a party for us…a toga party. It was great fun. Here is a picture from the night: Haute Guinea G21 trainees in our finest togas As for Kankan itself, as a city, it is a great. Perhaps my favorite city in Guinea. It is a big city without the big city feel. It has a terrific market, the best ice cream in all of Guinea and the place to get artisan items from Guinea. I stopped by an artisan’s gallery twice, one to get a little wooden elephant sculpture for me and one for my host mother. The guy was so nice, helpful and liked me so much that I got a little elephant structure for free. The artesian was super cool and has a customer for life in me. Kankan is just a great city to come to for my monthly visit.

Trip Back to Dubreka

We left Kankan at 6am on Saturday morning. We had arranged for two taxis, a 9 seater and a 6 seater, to take all 14 of us back to Dubreka. It was suppose to be a 12-hour ride with us arriving at 6pm. I know the main roads of Guinea pretty well after so much travel. But anyway, we were making good time up to right outside of Kindia, which is about 2 hours from Dubreka. In Guinea, like many developing world countries, there are military checkpoints on the road. I don’t really know the purpose of them, but nonetheless, they exist. Usually when you pass a checkpoint, the driver must show their credentials, and we must show our Peace Corps-issued ID. At first, that is exactly what happened. The driver showed his ID and a few of us showed ours. As we were passing through, we saw the driver say something to one of the guards.

Moments later, we were told to pull over to the side of the road, along with the other car of trainees, who were just as confused as us of what just happened. We saw the driver arguing with the guard and run away. Before we knew it, three guards moved towards us to explain in broken English and some French what happened. Thank god for Clara, who was the hero in this situation, along with the Peace Corps driver that was driving the other car. According to the guards, they said that we were over the baggage limit on top of the car, and they wanted to charge us 40 mil Francs. The driver said no way and threatened to kill the guard, which was the big mistake. The guards got all over the guy and tried to convince us that he was absolutely terrible and that we should go with them to get out of the situation. I knew for a fact I did not want to go with the guards anywhere. Clara told them that we were with Peace Corps and if we didn’t arrive today to Dubreka, we were going to be fired and flown back to the U.S. without helping Guinea. After some more deliberation and us waiting around the cars, they told us that the driver could go if he signed a paper saying that if the man he threatened died mysteriously, he was to blame, and they would come for him. Now, I don’t know about you, but there is no way in hell I would sign a paper that said that. He didn’t want to sign and, they continued to argue. We called Peace Corps and told them what was going on, so they could talk to the driver and the guardsmen, along with Clara and the PC driver that were trying to defuse the situation. After about an hour, the driver agreed to sign the paper so we could be on our way. Obviously, with this delay, we did not get in at 6pm. I have to say that while the incident above sounds strange, we were not in danger. We handled the situation well without freaking out. As for the driver, it would be easy to blame him for this whole thing. While he shouldn’t have lost his temper, it is also hard for taxi drivers to make a living when at every checkpoint, the guards ask for money, especially when there are Fotês in the car. It was an all around lose-lose situation and a good wake up call for all of us of the serious situation in Guinea, which differs from the sheltered walls of Dubreka. But, anyway, we made it to Dubreka about 8pm. We were all thrilled to be back “home” and excited to see our host families. I felt like I had been out of Dubreka for more than a month.

So, what I am up to now that I am back in Dubreka? I want to enjoy my host family, particularly my host mom a lot. She is teaching me how to cook different dishes and, I am learning other Guinean life lessons. My host mom also got a puppy that she named “Blackie”. He is so incredibly adorable, so I am sure I will be cuddling up to him a lot over the last 3 weeks remaining of PST. I can’t believe we are so close to the end! It is insane how the time passes by. I also plan on getting a dress made in Guinean cloths. I can’t wait to wear really bold prints. I will be going this week to visit my host cousin to check out what fabrics she has. It will be my first official African outfit. Also, I will make sure to enjoy the company of everyone, PCT staff included, as it will not be until May that I will be able to see everyone again. I am just trying to absorb and appreciate everything around me before leaving Dubreka.

Lastly, according to the chef of my organization, there are no internet cafes in Siguiri. I don’t know how true that may be, so I will have to do some research and searching when I get to Siguiri. I will keep you all informed of my possible internet usage. If what my Chef said is true, I will only be able to use the internet once a month when I am at the Kankan regional house. I am sorry! Keep writing me emails and such, as I will get back to you. It just might take a longer time than usual. I miss you all very much!!

Sorry for the epic blog post. Hope you enjoyed it!

Bon Courage et Bon Chance,

Carolina

Travel & Work in Guinea: A Trial Run:

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Smile, and hope for the best

2012-01-17 17:16:00

Counterpart Workshop & Site Visit to Boke:

The past two weeks we have spent away from our scheduled days and host families in Dubreka, first traveling to Mamou for our counterpart workshops/retreat, and then heading out for site visits.

All the Peace Corps Trainees arrived together at Mamou, and awaited for our counterparts to slowly arrive as they were coming from all over Guinea and transportation in Guinea is not reliable or fast to say the least (more to come on that later). When I was pulled away to meet my counterpart, I walked out of the building to confront a very young looking guy with a huge grin on his face. We talked for a long time about how excited he was and everything that we could do together for the organization, and him, and the community – it was nice, but a little worrying. He was so young, so enthusiastic, and had very high expectations! But over the past week we’ve become good friends. I think some issues have risen because he is so young, and since he’s never lived on his own and doesn’t have a good knowledge of American culture or even just Peace Corps Volunteers (I’m the first Volunteer to work with the Organization), there’s been some issues with my lodging/lack there of. When it comes to the community though, and getting work done, I think he’ll be a great partner.

Amara Syla, my counterpart/homologue, is 22 (four months younger than me), definitely the youngest counterpart by far, and is in his last year of high-school – because of the school system here and the fact that often kids have to repeat or miss years of school for one reason or another (typically family reasons) youth here are defined as 15-30 years old. As we walk around Boke he introduces me to literally every other person, and he seems well respected by the community, as he volunteers with the Red Cross, is a peer-educator/secretary/account for the CECOJE (the organization I am working with – explanation to follow) and he’s grown up there.

From Mamou to Boke we had to take a “bush taxi,” which if you want to picture it think of a really hurting car, crammed with 4 people in the back and 2 people in the passengers seat, and driving on roads riddled with potholes for the entire journey. Our taxi broke down on the way, so we all piled out of the car and there was a family who’s compound was by the side of the road – they nonchalantly greeted us as if this was a typical occurrence and allowed us to sit under their tree for the next three hours. They were very gracious though, allowing us to use their cornered off area covered by grass (bathroom), and in turn we entertained them by playing cards. The taxi driver had to find a ride back to the main city, and then find other taxis with enough free space coming our way to pick us up. We continued on.

When we arrived in Boke we were dropped of at the CECOJE since it’s right next to the market, which is where taxis come in and out of. To start this part of the story off, I have to preface that my counterpart never explained to me that my housing that they had set up for me had fallen through and so that place he would be taking me that night wouldn’t be my home. At eleven at night, he brought me to a room in the middle of the CECOJE which is a large youth center, that is a public area with tons of youth from the city playing sports and blasting music, me still thinking this would be my house, walk into the room to see that there is just a bed and small bathroom area, with no where to prepare food and no access to a well, and in a very very public place – I was in shock. I think my this point my counterpart could tell I was a little bewildered, he asked me if everything was okay? I replied, that, “ I thought I would have a place to prepare food,” which was the nicest way I could think of to explain that I thought I would have a hut/house. Only then did he explain that that was not my home. His family came to greet me, and helped me get water and food for the night. His mom helped me make a salad, and when I said I didn’t want mayonnaise on it she really thought I was nuts. As they watched me eat it, I said it was really good, and she told me that, “no, it wasn’t,” because I didn’t put mayonnaise, salt, or magi cube on it – me and Guinea have very different taste in food. At midnight, my homologue and his family left me to say goodbye, as they went to close the door Amara told me not the answer the door for anyone but him, that was concerning.

I woke up the next morning and called the PC Safety and Security Officer, the Boke regional house is literally 2 minutes from where I was staying, and they told me to stay at that house for my visit, I was relieved. I explained to Amara that it was because of the noise, and he understood. He said that we could go see my real housing later on, which turned out to be only half true. I spent several hours during site visit going around to different compounds viewing various rooms that if I agreed could be my housing, the problem is that we don’t currently have a regional director in Boke and the regional driver and my counterpart are the ones showing me these places, without any knowledge of the Peace Corps regulations, or the authority to sign off on a place. We’ve been playing this game of me viewing these places, having very rough conversations in French with the owners and my counterparts, and then explaining to them that the Peace Corps has to view them and I can’t say anything definitive. I feel bad for Amara because I know that this is probably hard for him to figure out, but I also need to have a place that is conducive to living for the next 2 years. The Peace Corps knows this is Guinea and they have very realistic standards and so do I, but safety and security issues also have to be addressed.

Everyone in the Peace Corps has been very on top of things for me and checking-in, but things don’t happen overnight here. The Country Director decided to send someone up to Boke who had been a regional director and would be there to greet us 6 who would be coming to the house for a few days and to help figure out my lodging. When I found this out I was grateful and hopeful.

At the counterpart workshop we made a plan of what we’d do the 3 days that we would spend together before I went to my regional house, we followed about half of the plan. Amara is in school, so we can’t do things Monday through Saturday until after he is done, and then we also had to figure out housing unexpectedly, and of course go to 3 different soccer games. Honestly, I enjoyed our revised schedule. The first day we went to the local museum, which I don’t believe is actually open to the public as a museum because of funding and is not setup exhibit wise as such for the same reason, but we got a private tour (in French) that from what I could comprehend was very interesting. Boke used to be a large port for the slave trade in Africa, and thus has a very interesting and sad history that has impacted the city and it's inhabitants. We also went to several soccer games, which apparently the rest of Boke also attended (I asked if there is a soccer game every day, that was clearly regarded as a silly question; there are multiple a day) I was sitting next to one of the Principle's of one of the schools that was playing, and before the game started all the players lined up and officials went out and shook their hands - I guess I was the "official fote" for the game because he had me and Amara come out and shake all their hands too (me and all the kids had on mutual looks of "what is going on" as this occurred).

Boke is a very big city and I am a little worried that I will also be the Fote, where as in Dubreka I've mostly become Aisha (finally have the spelling of my name correct). We have about 3 more weeks of training left, and then our service begins, so I guess I'll have a lot to figure out soon enough.

(P.S. I've updated the post below as well in case you were thinking of sending me a package :) )

Moving up

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea En Afrique

2012-01-17 06:34:00

Mark Lawrence, International Program Manager... just spent an hour bailing out a flooded, half-sunk boat on a crocodile infested river.

Yup, definitely moving up in the world...

[Guinean news] Syli national Nations Cup opens next week

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea News from Guinea and Friends of Guinea

2012-01-15 20:26:00

The Guinean national soccer team's opening match in the 2012 African Nations Cup will occur next week. The tournament will be held in Equatorial Guinea and Gabon. Guinea's opening round matches are as follows:

Jan. 24: vs Mali (1500 GMT)
Jan. 28: vs Botswana (1500 GMT)
Feb. 1: vs Ghana (1700 GMT)

The full Nations Cup schedule can be found here, though bear in mind that kickoffs on the linked to site are in central African time, which is two hours ahead of GMT and currently seven hours ahead of American EST.

Details regarding any television and/or online broadcasting are not available but readers are invited to share anything they learn.

Plateau

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea le Flâneur

2012-01-14 21:05:00

Often in the late afternoon or, on days when I don’t teach,in the morning just after sunrise, I walk to the plateau east of the village. Theroad is rocky and dusty for the first 100 meters, and then the path splits fromthe road and traverses the dried pasture above the last of the houses andwalled gardens. Multiple trails lead to the top, each with its own collectionof dried straw, rocks, dried manure, burnt grass, and grasshoppers. Aftergaining the enough elevation that the ground no longer slopes away out of sightabove me (which would indicate the top is approaching), I pick a path that windssouth out of the bushes. Here the path is rockier, and my shoes press the roundstones together, each footstep sounding like a tiny dump truck emptying a tinyload of gravel onto the pavement in the midst of the otherwise tranquil air. Itis too hot up here for people and livestock, the road too bumpy formotorcycles, and the time of day wrong for insects. The only other sound is thesingular, unexpected, and inevitable whoosh of a pair of ground-birds suddenlytaking flight with all their might, after waiting for me to come as close aspossible.

The path emerges from the bushes into what was a meadow threemonths ago. Now, the entire low wide hilltop is martian; brushfires set in Novemberhave razed everything except the skeletons of a few small trees. The ground isblack and red with ash and loose round rocks.

It seems odd to feel like an explorer. My small backpackcontains a pocket knife, nail trimmers, an issue of The New York Review of Books, a copy of Wuthering Heights, a pen, two mandarin oranges, my cellphone[powered on, there is service up here], and 10000 Guinean Francs [one bill, thelargest]. With this kit, my sandals, shorts and white tshirt, I could stay outhere for hours! At least until I get thirsty. Or it gets dark.

Have the other people that traversed this Marscape earliertoday, or last year, or three hundred years ago also wondered how all the smallround rocks got to be scattered about on top of a high flat plateau? Did they stop and sit on this rock, righthere, which seems smoother, shinier, more comfortable than its neighbors, andread, write, pray, or ponder? Did they get sunburnt? Or am I the first?

At about 1600 the moon is higher in the sky than the sun. Unlikeearlier, the breeze that occasionally blows is slightly cooler than the stationaryair it displaces. I sit on a pile of gravel that someone has made, and burrow myheels into the loose side. I read about Heathcliff and Jonathan Raban. I eat amandarin and spit out the seeds with skill but not relish. Maybe I receive atext message. Earlier this week I was also here, although sitting somewhere else,and reading Plato’s account of the death of Socrates, 2413 years ago. I can’t decidewhich seemed less real.

In Memory

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea le Flâneur

2012-01-14 16:10:00

On the way home from school, stop and ask anyone standingaround if bread is being made today. Head home, have a cup of water, change,and go back to the baker’s hut and wait while he takes fresh loaves out of theoven. Buy two, even if he gives you a third for free. Carry them home in thebag that your mosquito net came in. Eat the end of one on the way home becauseyou can. Don’t bring the loaves inside when you get home; instead leave them ona chair on the porch in the sunshine so they stay warm while you make sauce.

Add to a large woodenmortar four to six small dried red chilies, picking out any grubs stems etc., asmall handful of those round dried things that look like chilies but might becherry tomatoes or just some bitter berry, approximately two teaspoons wholecoriander, and a teaspoon black cumin seeds. Pound one minute; until dusty. Peeland mince one large-for-Africa onion and two thirds of a head of garlic.Quickly wash and mince the small sweet potato left alone at the bottom of thevegetable bowl. Add the minced ingredients and a resolute pour of olive oil toyour only pot. Cook as fast as possible, only burning a little. Add thecrumblier spices and the last two bay leaves, and a sprig of thyme. Cook a bitmore. Add three handfuls of mostly-ripe cherry tomatoes, and cook until theystart to pop. Add one 70g package of tomato paste, and a second if you’ve gotit. Stir around, and add a liter of water. Crumble in a bouillon cube and bringto a boil. Add a pinch of black pepper, two dashes of ground cumin, a generousportion of dried oregano, and a tablespoon of honey. Reduce until thick. Crushany cherry tomatoes that have remained intact.

Split a still-hot-from-the-oven-and-the-sun loaf of breaddown the middle with your fingers. Spread margarine on one side and pour honeyon the other, then press the loaf back together.

Fill a low, wide bowl with the red sauce and sprinkleinstant milk powder on top so it looks like parmesan cheese. Dip the hot honeybread in it like an au jus sandwichand enjoy with a large cup of water and a decent book or magazine. Go throughtwo whole baguettes before you realize you are absolutely stuffed.

Dedicated to my grandmother, Helen Haugerud, who lovedeverything delicious.

I AM NOT A BLOGGER

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Guinea Cuando despertó, el dinosaurio todavía estaba allí.

2012-01-13 18:10:00

Hello Everyone,

So one thing that I have learned about myself since being in Guinea is that I am not a blogger. Also, this blog page is the hardest page to load.

If you want to keep in touch then send me an e-mail : roxanne.ko@gmail.com or send me a message on Facebook .

Otherwise the only other option is good-old fashioned mail:

Roxanne Ko
c/o Corps de la Paix
B.P. 1927
Conakry , Guinee
West Africa

Good-bye Blogger, it was short but sweet.