Peace Corps Journals

Do you wonder what I do here? And what it's like?

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger From Niger to Mali: David's Adventure Continues!

2012-02-09 12:38:00

Hey all. I didn't get online in January, as I was trying to spend a lot of time in my village. Bit I have much to tell! In this entry I want to: describe what my village looks like; describe an average day; and detail some tidbits of life here.

What My Village Looks Like

So, my village is a collection of mud huts, with a few large cement houses (which are often financed by family members who have found work abroad, perhaps in France or Spain). The mud huts have thatched hut roofs (which do not always keep the rain out so well...). There are a series of fences made of tree branches lining certain village streets and most family's households, though not every concession is so ensconced. And it seems that many of the fences have been burned for firewood (an endless need!) or been knocked down by wandering animals. Oh, as to these roaming animals they consist of goats, sheep, donkeys, and they roam endlessly looking for food. And sometimes they run, like the donkeys, who sometime get it into their heads to chase other donkeys and in so doing create a great ruckus. Charging donkeys are surprisingly alarming. Oh yeah, the streets are all dirt, which means that now in the dry season an ungodly amount of dirt gets blown around everywhere, including my face. Boo.

What My Day is Like

6:30 AM- Wake up. Lie in Bed.

6:45-8:00 AM- Exit my hut, wash my face, feed my dog, boil water for coffee on my gas stove, sit and wonder what the day will bring, listen to classical music on my Ipod.

8:00 AM- Eat the corn or millet porridge that one of my host siblings has brought me, give a little to my dog, get presentable clothes on (important here in Mali as a sign of respect), get my bag ready, put my solar panel on my roof, and go to school.

8:15 AM - 12:oo PM. Go to the one primary school and try to do something productive. Sometimes I may sub for a class; other times observe other teachers; and sometimes just study language or other work-related manuals.

12:oo PM - 3:00 PM. Walk home from school with host family siblings. Eat lunch, usually clumpy rice porridge with either green leaf or peanut butter sauce, with the male members of my host family, out of one big bowl with our right hands. After, I don't really do a whole lot, this being the hottest time of day and all. Lately I've been sitting under my hanger in front of my hut, in the shade, reading (current book: The Poisonwood Bible) while my dog sits near me. This is a lazy time due to the HEAT.

3:oo PM - 5:oo PM. Return to school to try and be productive, and help out where I can.

5:oo PM- 7:00 PM. Return home, heat water for bucket bath. Take bucket bath (pour water on myself). Feel clean. Cook a light dinner for myself, which does wonders for my mood. Malian food in the bush is the same thing day after day, so this variety is needed. Tidy up my huts, of which I have two.

7:00-7:30 PM- Go next door to my host family's house to have dinner. Sit and chat with my host family.

7:30 - 10:30 PM. Social time! The day's work being done, and dinner eaten, and the unbearable heat having become dissipated, it is time to wander around my village, sitting and chatting and drinking tea with my villagers. I find that I am most talkative in Bambara in the nighttime. I've pondered why this is so, and have come up with a few reasons: it's dark so I stand out less; it's dark so I am not intimidated by people's stares; and I feel relaxed at night, work being done and all. As my language skills increase so do my conversations, and comfort.

10:30 PM- break the news to whomever I'm sitting with that I must unfortunately go back to my hut to sleep. Floss, brush, PJs, read a little, then BED.

That's an average day. Of course, this routine is often interrupted, especially by social events, such as baptisms (Muslim), marriages, funerals, village meetings, meetings with the Woman's Microfinance Group, and so on.

Tidbits:

-Among the little boys (and some teenagers) the newest craze here is...MARBLES. Yes, the kids in my village love playing marbles day in and day out, as opposed to studying, chores etc. Everywhere that I go see boys standing or sitting in the sand (where else would they play?) playing or spectating to this sport. This just strikes me as both funny and quaint.The kids really get into it too!

-One day, sitting with some of my friends under a tree doing nothing but watching people walk by I saw an amusing sight. One of my host brothers, Sada (aged 12), had just come into view. But not walking, oh no: he was riding a dirty old donkey. So, this bareback barefoot African kid is riding a bareback donkey, ambling ever so slowly on the dusty dirty villages streets and get this: he had the biggest GRIN on his face, like he had just won the lottery. But no, he was just riding a donkey through a village. I saw this and I just wanted to laugh so hard. But it also filled me with joy. I ask you, how much do we really need to be happy? Sada seems to know.

-Humor. I've lately realized that most of my villagers are joking with each other in most of what they say. It has taken a while for my language skills to get good enough to understand this, as it can be subtle. Funny or goofy things are often said with a straight face in a normal tone. And sometimes the jokes can even be quite raunchy! It seems that humor is very necessary for survival here.

Okay, I've emptied out my thoughts. Perhaps they will interest you. Let me know!

A new kind of life

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

2012-02-08 21:39:31

It’s 9 a.m. I’ve already missed my first class as a teacher and, if things didn’t change soon, I could miss my second. I know I shouldn’t be on phone so much and instead take in the scenery around me … Continue reading →

Peaches

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

2012-02-07 20:35:42

The following is an entry from journal, dated November 1, 2011. I was in training and had only been in country 17 days when I wrote this. I don’t like peaches. After my favorite meal – steam bread and beans … Continue reading →

Hi

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger From the Desert to the Tropics a Peace Corps Adventure

2012-02-07 01:04:00

Well it's been a while by internet isn't working I have to get it checked out. Alot has happened since the last time I wrote. Lets see my youth group is over with we had a desperation or a going out party. It was a blast I made a spider wed for them which they loved. We had food and they played twister and did a singing competition. The summer tutoring is OVER!!!! I am so happy about that it was horrible. I hope that real classes aren't so bad.

Now we are starting the teachers weeks they went over the rules and doing enrollment for the up coming year. They will be doing this for two weeks hopefully people will sign up. There hasn't been a big turn our so far. I also finally visited the second school it's a 6k walk. I will need to buy a bike to get there. All of my classes are in the morning which will be nice I get to do activities in the after noon. The town is very poor and the house are just boards put together. The people are nice though and the teacher is great. I think i will really enjoy my time there.

My uncle, friend, neighbor died this week. It has been a sad hectic week. The house was full of people from all over the world. It was a bit overwhelming but a unique experience. I didn't get to go to the funeral because no one told me. They took my camera so at least i have photos to see even if i wasn't there. I did get to see the wake and viewing though. It was a sad but amazing cultural experience. Very similar to a USA viewing.

WINTER WONDERLAND, ARMENIA STYLE

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Down the rabbit hole......Niger......Surface in ARMENIA

2012-02-05 18:57:00

Our street 4 days after the last snow.

The thermometer outside our door reads 16 degrees F this morning. I am bundled up in my down coat, Smart Wool long johns and multiple layers of clothing which I’ve learned to wear on such winter days in Armenia. The sky is classic azure blue and the snow from this week’s fairy-tale like snowfall still lies abundantly outside out apartment, on the streets and sidewalks, and on any available surface. Before arriving in Armenia and even months before the winter began and the snows came, I dreaded the idea of the cold. I complained about it before even experiencing the first drop in temperature! Now I am amazed at myself and at the pleasant feeling I get while walking to school in the snow.

I now actually enjoy the crisp winter weather. Hearing the crunch of my boots on the snow’s surface is reassuring. With that crunch comes traction and less of a chance to slip although it still may happen. Now as I walk along, the crunchy sound adds another dimension to the already brisk morning air on my face, and the brightness in my eyes from the snow’s reflection. It is unbelievably quiet and peaceful this morning. The young children in my neighborhood have already reached their school a few blocks ahead. Older students who attend my college get the day off again today so are probably still buried in their heavy bedding enjoying extra sleep and warmth. But teachers and staff must report to my college today. If teachers do not go tol, they are not paid, and there is always planning and preparation for classes which can be done whether students are present or not.

Judy leaving for school on a snowy, January morning.

I am a Peace Corps volunteer and not paid, although many Armenians have a difficult time understanding this concept. I am going to my college today to do lesson planning with my team teacher as well as to merely “show up” and continue my pursuit of being a more familiar and legitimate part of the college’s faculty and staff. It is difficult to describe the feeling of being an outsider yet an accepted part of the organization at the same time. This is my challenge as a volunteer teacher of English as a foreign language (TEFL). My college strives to provide a technical education as well as to include courses such as English, Russian, economics, physics and other subjects to enhance a student’s overall education. Many students are poorly motivated to study a difficult foreign language which they must take and did not choose. The students want to learn to cook, to sew, to repair cars, to work in the tourism industry, for instance. Any attempt to explain why learning a second and sometimes, third language might be beneficial in the job market often falls on deaf ears. But it is my aim to do just that and to continue to try and add something to the educational process by interacting with students as a native speaker of English. I want to help the students with communication at all levels and to make the learning of English more appealing through new ideas and teaching techniques. All of this takes planning and coordination with my team teacher who also has goals she must reach both to satisfy the Armenian Education Ministry’s expectations, those of the students and herself.

As I walk to school on this invigorating, snow- filled morning, my pleasant morning is interrupted by the sight of dogs and cats who wander the street before me, searching for food from the street-side garbage cans and a dry place to rest. My heart goes out to them because as an American, I can’t help but view these animals as pets needing protection from the cold yet in Armenia they are not treated that way. In a future blog I’ll discuss other aspects of animal life as we’ve seen it in our short time here. But today, I proceed to the college where other teachers are arriving, relieved to know that students are spared the endurance of cold conditions while also trying to learn something. Who know what the following week will bring, however, today the camaraderie of teachers is felt, informal gatherings develop and a measure of planning for future lessons takes place. My goal of at least being present and taking part is met for today. It is further enjoyed when one small group of teachers invites me to lunch where traditional Armenian salads are served, accompanied by small shots of homemade vodka and Armenian music. These women lead demanding lives and occasionally need the release of laughter and friendship with fellow teachers to relieve the stress of a cold environment.

Teachers/friends at Judy's school

Ah, so is the life of an Armenian teacher in the depths of winter!

Judy

A Great Birthday Week & New Blogging Outlets

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Lisa's Blog

2012-02-05 17:19:20

Despite my dread at no longer being able to classify myself as being “in my early 20s,” my 24th birthday was great! The week started out on a bit of a sour note when I received a generic letter from the Fulbright Committee on my proposed research project to India. Though my ego was a [...]

Michelle’s

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

2012-02-03 18:49:51

It always seemed out of place, tucked in between a furniture store and a women’s boutique. Its checkered logo on the storefront didn’t match how I saw the place and the screen door behind the main entrance seemed odd sandwiched … Continue reading →

The license term smorgasbord: copyleft, share-alike, reciprocal, viral, or hereditary?

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Luis Villa » Blog Posts

2012-02-03 02:14:21

I microblogged (diaspora, identica, twitter) the following statement a few weeks ago: First new year’s resolution, 10 days late: I will use ‘hereditary license’ any time I am tempted to say ‘viral license.’ Surprisingly, this generated quite a few responses (on identica and elsewhere)- some people liked it, but many people had their own alternative [...]

The Orphan

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

2012-02-02 21:04:24

Megan* is beautiful, with silky brown skin and short black hair. Although her voice is soft, her English is outstanding for someone who didn’t pass high school. I met her a few months earlier, during training. Our topic for the … Continue reading →

YOP – January

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

2012-02-01 20:38:12

I am not sure about you, but I am glad January is over. The first three months of the year always seem to tug on and, no matter where I am in life they tend to be emotionally down points. … Continue reading →

Roller Coaster

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

2012-01-31 23:55:51

I do not like roller coasters. Heights and I do not get along well and I detest anything that involves moving downhill, i.e. skiing, sledding and even descending while biking and hiking. But lately, I find myself on a never-ending … Continue reading →

Jacobo – Where Have You Been?!

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Hero Complex

2012-01-31 03:00:31

I have a few friends who have been asking me – “Jacob, what are you doing? What are you up to?” To which I always think – just read my blog. A few moments later and I realize I haven’t upldated my blog in a long while. So…the last few months, condensed: September/October These were [...]

Being So PC

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Back In Africa

2012-01-27 18:15:00

While every Peace Corps experienceis somewhat different and unique, some memories I’ve made here seem toepitomize those of a PCV. In essence, these memories inevitably entail frustration,sadness, confusion, and happiness; but, best of all,noticeable progress. I had a full weekend of making such memoriesrecently, and I’ll use this post to allow you a look into exactly what it meansto be “so PC.”

Thememories begin on Friday. I spend the day working on my English trainingcurriculum and come home to read some Lordof the Rings before it’s my night to cook. Now, before coming to South Africa, I had barely cooked a decent meal inmy life. In fact, I remember cringing when I first arrived and granny mentionedshe’d like me to cook some nights. Luckily,my host family has taught me much since that initial request, and on thisparticular night, I daresay I cook the best meal I’ve made since cominghere! Well, okay, I’m not sure if anyoneelse particularly enjoys it (everyone tends to eat on their own time and wayafter I do), but I can’t get ENOUGH of it! It’s a sausage curry with just theright amount of spice, with rice and cabbage, and some squash made by ourhousekeeper. And that is my first majornote of progress for the weekend - cooking a delectable South Africanmeal for my host family and me to enjoy.

To end the night, I decide to watch a movie inmy room. Unfortunately, a huge storm bringson terrifying lightning and thunder halfway through the movie, so I have toshut it off (the storms here can be pretty dangerous so it’s recommended toturn off all electricity during them, and I also live under a tin roof)… sadness.

Thenext morning, I sleep in until about 7 AM or so (no, that’s not a typo – 7 AMis sleeping in) and step out of my room to enter the main house. Before I’m even greeted by my sister, however,I am asked for a big favor – to type up a stack of papers for a host relative thatlives in town. Now, it’s not forced uponme and I actually accept without hesitation, but that doesn’t mean that I’m lookingforward to it at all. I can’t get to it at the moment because I havea date for some dance exercising in my room (with me, myself, and I) and then haveto get ready before meeting Sthembile (16 year-old friend from last post).

WhileSthembile is like a sister to me here and definitely one of my best friends,she is not always very punctual. Now, ifshe is on time and I’m late, she’ll have no reservationsabout giving me a good verbal scolding; but she is largely on African Time anddoesn’t often see the need to rush herself even when we make (what I deem tobe) definite plans to meet at a certain time.

Anyway, I arrive at our usualmeeting spot at our agreed upon time of 9 AM without seeing her anywhere insight. I call her several times and she assures me she is coming, although shehas not yet left her home. Several people come up to me in the street askingwhat I’m doing, who I’m waiting for, and where she is. I thank them for their kindness in lookingout for me, but assure them someone is coming just now. By 9:23, I vow to myself that I am walkingstraight back home if she isn’t present by 9:30. I’d like to see her and her mom (Khethiwe),but I also feel like she could use a good lesson in punctuality. The clock strikes 9:25… 9:27… 9:28… and hereshe comes. She doesn’t have any excuse for her frustratingly latearrival, but after some gentle scolding, we continue the walk to her place.

Weenter and she tells me that she needs some help with her homework. She pulls out her essay prompt and shows itto me. It asks about “a memory you’llnever forget for the rest of your life.” She then proceeds to ask me to writeit.

Umm…excuse me!? I am not writing any essay. She then tells me how it is 50 marks and quite a big deal because shereally wants the full 50 for it. I askher why I should do her homework for her and how receiving 50 marks for theassignment would mean anything if shedidn’t actually write any of it. Sheexplains that it would mean a lot to her and that she would be very thankful tome. Two neighborhood kids are alsopresent and also take part in begging me to write this paper. Meanwhile, I am actually finding thissituation almost laughable in its ridiculousness. Then, she attempts to persuade me a bit more.

“Thando.It’s fine. I already wrote an essay for me. This is a research paper, so that means we ask someone else to write it.Those were the instructions – it’s fine.” Umm… yeah. I’m pretty sure those were NOT theinstructions because why would a teacher want to grade papers written by peopleother than the students?! The conversation literally goes on like this for atleast 20 minutes, and I am frustrated… again. Khethiwe walks in and joins the debate inisiZulu, but I can’t tell whose side she is taking. It seems to me that she says how I don’tunderstand that I need to help Sthembile when Sthembile says something, butthen agrees that Sthembile needs to learn and practice her English in order toget better when I make my arguments. Despitemy confusion, I stand firm and make it very clear that I will be doingno writing for anybody, but woulddefinitely be willing to help withthe writing.

Admittingdefeat and seeing no other option, Sthembile gets out a fresh piece of paperand prepares to begin. Together, we mapout the ideas and on her paper I write a general outline for how an essay is made. While I still feel like I am basicallywriting the essay (it’s about me, so I’m pretty much dictating what to write),we are able to go over a lot of spelling and punctuation issues and I am ableto explain some nuances of English. Iconstantly refer to the general outline I made to show where we are in thepaper and to discuss what we need to do next, and the neighborhood kids have anespecially great time trying to spell out the words correctly so Sthembile knowshow to write them down. I can tell sheis getting pretty frustrated by the end, but I feel so proud of the progressthat we’ve made together. And it becomesall the more special when she pulls me aside on a walk afterwards to expressher gratitude and to share that she has actually learned a lot through ourwriting process. Happiness.

Then,a little further on this walk, the neighborhood boy who has been with us allalong starts talking to me. At first, he’sasking about getting some help for a body pain, but then he goes on to tell meabout his family. I’m not sure how oldhe is, but I think he must be 20 or a bit younger. He explains how his mom died when he was atoddler and his father left when he was still young. He shares that he lives with his sister andher four children, but she refuses to give him any food because her childrencome first. He visits his grandmothernearby, but she doesn’t seem to have an income and struggles to provide foodfor him. He goes on to explain how hedoes get food whenever he comes to Sthembile and Khethiwe’s house. I feel incredulous listening to this awful, heart-wrenchinglysad story. I’m not sure of thespecifics or if I get all of the details correct, but I end up referring him tomy organization where they can discuss his situation more thoroughly, andwithout the language barrier I have. ButI’m not just incredulous of his painful story, I’m incredulous of how deeplycompassionate Sthembile and Khethiwe are. They themselves are nearly starving, as I wrote about in “A Bad Day”,yet here they are providing this young man with a meal whenever he needsone. And, sure enough, as soon as wereturn from our walk, Sthembile serves him a big bowl of pap, tripe, and sauce.

Alittle later, I hear another heartbreaking story from Khethiwe. It’s a continuation of what I already know,but I’ve grown close enough with them to where I finally feel able to ask a bitmore. For instance, I knew that sheworks in the factories, but I didn’t know she spends 12 hours per day puttingprice tags on shoes. I knew she must payfor transport to and from work, but I didn’t realize it was R13 roundtrip –which means she works 4 of these 12 hours simply to arrive and leave everyday. I also knew that they barely get bywith food, but she now tells me that she buys one package of pap one week, onebag of potatoes the next, and maybe one bag of flour the week after; it’swhatever they can afford at the time. And lastly, while I knew that Sthembile’s father is living inJohannesburg, I had never had the guts to ask about the specifics before this day. Khethiwe tells me that he left all three ofhis children and herself for another woman and that is why he is absent fromtheir home.

Thenext day, I wake up in a horrible mood. To make matters worse, I still have to type up that stack of papers formy host sister, and my host granny greets me that morning with some morepaperwork to type up. Now, Granny is atrue community leader. I see her do SOMUCH for this place and she often stays up past midnight writing out papers forvarious organizations she helps. So, Ican’t say that I mind typing for her very often, but it is definitely the lastthing I want to do with my Sunday. Anyway, I suck it up and spend a couple of hours typing these things formy host family before leaving to town for grocery shopping.

Enroute, the taxi driver yells at me for “breaking his door” when I slam itshut. The taxis aren’t known for beingin great condition, and this was no exception so when he asks what I’m doing, givenmy rather sour mood, I just shout that that’s how we close doors in America andwalk away nearly in tears. Fortunately,the door wasn’t actually broken and he smiles and says so to me. Woohoo, I guess my day isn’t so bad. Then, wearrive in town. As I walk to my favorite grocery store, I see it… my day justgot worse. Coming from Seattle, I am a huge fan ofcafes. I don’t especially like coffee,but I love the atmosphere of cafes themselves. Well, on this particular day, instead of looking up to see the one andonly cafe I’ve found in my shopping town (that always reminds me quite fondlyof home), I see an empty room and on the window, an announcement for somethingnew coming. Great.

Onthe ride home, I try to keep my spirits up. While this day hasn’t been all that wonderful, I’m sure it could havebeen one hundred times worse so I had better unpack my patience and positiveattitude – essentials for any PCV.

Phew.Our relative from town comes in the afternoon to retrieve the materials Islaved over typing. She and my sisterare incredibly thankful and grateful for the work I did and say so. Even thoughI felt so angry about it earlier, all that anguish melts away and I feel veryproud and glad to have helped them. And that’s me “Being So PC.”

A Question of Education

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Alynn's Updates

2012-01-27 09:43:00

January 21, 2012

I must apologize for my lengthy absence from sharing my stories. Whenever the mood has struck me to write, I haven’t, and then the reflections are lost. So what’s been missed – In-service training (two weeks of training in the capital), Christmas and New Years were spent in my village (still waiting on Christmas packages of which I’ve received: 0), and my birthday, where I learned that when it’s your birthday in Burkina Faso (I think it’s a French thing) you’re supposed to tell everyone, invite them out, and then (and here’s the kicker) pay for everything! This tradition came as quite the shock to me!

Now I find myself quite busy (in Peace Corps terms anyways). In additions to the activities I’ve previously written about, I’m tutoring three times a week, having English club twice a week, taking Lobiri language lessons twice a week, planning a soccer tournament for girls, planning and executing World AIDS day (a month and a half late), starting a girls club and writing a grant.

All of these activities bring about unique challenges and blessings, but what I’d like to focus on today are the challenges associated with tutoring. I tutor 3 levels within the equivalent of 6th grade, a low-level class for kids that have a really hard time reading (or can’t read) and have trouble with basic math, like subtraction); a low-level math class for kids needing help with basic math (we’re currently working in multiplication and division); and a mid-level reading class.

Now you may be thinking that the challenge is how to teach kids to read in French and do math in a completely different way than I was taught, but while these are certainly challenges, what has been most on my mind lately is kids dropping out of school and if and how I can help them. After the holiday break, four of my low-level students have dropped out of school. One lives in a village that is quite a distance away and is the only one from the village going to school, another has decided he doesn’t want to go anymore, another’s father decided he was done, and the fourth one I’m still trying to figure out. Obviously my first response is to get them back in school ASAP, but upon giving it more thought, I’m wondering if that’s really what’s best for them.

Let me give you a little background. All four students are on the older side for the class (14 and 15), they have all repeated this grade once already, and they are all very poor at both reading and math. By encouraging them to return to school, am I being a helpful and positive role model, or am I setting them up for failure. If I’m being honest with myself, I know that most likely none of these students will pass the grade this year. I don’t want to give up on them, but I don’t want to set them up for heartbreak either. What is right and wrong here? Is there even a right or wrong answer?

A teacher

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

2012-01-26 17:10:26

In our lives there are things that we don’t plan to do or expect we’ll be do forever but as we grow older we continually find ourselves doing those things. That’s my relationship with teaching. In third grade, or so, … Continue reading →

The first day

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

2012-01-25 13:57:34

Hello, all, As I continue to record my Peace Corps service through words, I am going to take my writing a step further and will be a regular columnist for my former employer, The Capital Journal. The column will run every … Continue reading →

Nominated for OpenSource.com People’s Choice Award

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Luis Villa » Blog Posts

2012-01-24 20:42:15

Based on my series of MPL posts for opensource.com, I’ve been nominated for a “people’s choice award” as a top contributor to opensource.com. It’s a nice little honor. That said, there are lots of folks on the list of nominees who have written and thought far more than I have this year- so you should [...]

Bakel Eye Clinic

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Fofo, Bush Taxi

2012-01-24 15:55:00

Right to Sight Eye Clinic, December 5^th-16^th

On December 5^th, I packed my bags and joined a group of volunteers heading north to the dusty region Bakel. After a significant bus breakdown and a fight with a group of testy Senegalese who didn’t take kindly to our accidental “looks” in their direction, we arrived after dark, down a sweeping paved road strung high with street lights, into the glittering regional capital. I’m not sure if it was the fatigue of the long travel day or the impressive array of electricity before us, but one volunteer exclaimed “Woah – it’s like the Los Angeles of Senegal!”

Yes, if you know of anyone coming to Senegal, please pass on the word that Bakel is just like Los Angeles. That’s sure to piss of any tourist who makes the trek that far north. However, after having spent a week there, I’m pretty fond of the city and have only good things to say about it.

Even though Bakel is technically part of our Tambacounda demographic, few volunteers have been there. It’s not close, and it has a rough reputation for heat and desolation. Maybe it was these deplorable expectations that caused us all to be pleasantly surprised by the tree lined streets and the fully stocked boutiques. But we weren’t there to admire the views. It was time for the long awaited Eye Clinic!

One of the cooler projects I’ve been involved in, the Bake Eye Clinic involved two American ophthalmologists, both of whom traveled to Bakel to teach a Senegalese doctor how to perform cataract surgeries. Over the course of their two weeks in Senegal, the three doctors performed over a hundred cataract surgeries and diagnosed many eye conditions. Peace Corps volunteers descended on the clinic to help with language, logistics and provide extra hands.

I served as master of logistics, with another volunteer. We handled the crowds of people who swarmed the clinic, glimpsing the white doctors and demanding anything from an appointment to free x-rays on their heads. It became easy to sort out the truly afflicted and the freeloaders. The doctors had brought a hefty supply of cheap Club Med sunglasses, so our strategy for those just looking for a handout became “Hey - just Club Med that guy!” and tossing out a pair of free glasses. Nine times out of ten, satisfaction was achieved. A job well done!

At one point, I switched over to administering eye exams. Instead of rows of letters, our eye charts have pictures to accommodate the illiterate. One of the pictures is of a hand, and it gets smaller and smaller as you go down the chart. As I tested one old lady, she said “Yes, that’s an adult hand.” And then “that’s a child’s hand.” Finally, “that’s a baby’s hand.” Well played, Madame.

Between the jokes and successes, there was a fair amount of tragedy. Some patients waited all day for a consultation, only be told they had advanced glaucoma and there was no hope. Many of these cases refused to accept their situation and argued that we just “didn’t want to help” and “of course we could cure it” because we were white and American. One volunteer broke down and sobbed after one such confrontation. Other times, patients would lie and exclaim that they couldn’t see anything, not a single thing. Of course, if that were the case, the doctors most likely couldn’t operate or assist in any way. Once told this, the story quickly changed. “Yes – all of a sudden I can see the light!” Ok, buddy.

The 7am-9pm hours of the clinic were also extremely wearing on volunteers who haven’t adhered to such a schedule in months. After one day, I thought unnervingly “this is what it’s like to have a real job…”

At the end of the week, I was exhausted and fulfilled. The experience had all the positives and negatives of any project in Senegal, but I felt exhilarated by the quick results. Some people removed their post surgery bandages and walked away without further ado, which was a bit anticlimactic, but I also watched several patients give happy exclamations. (In actuality, it takes about a month to perceive the benefits of the operation, but we appreciated the theatrics.) A trip well worth it and one I hope to repeat this coming year. Thanks very much to the Right to Sight NGO and their incredible gift to Bakel!

Until next time,

<3 Phoebe

Cleansing Fires

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Fofo, Bush Taxi

2012-01-24 15:55:00

Albert Camus wrote, "At any street corner the feeling of absurdity can strike any man in the face."

I've chosen to kick start my first 2012 blog post with this statement because of the poignant feeling that overwhelmed me yesterday in a taxi. I sat in traffic, watching life in Tambacounda revolve around me. It was an ordinary day, but I felt something. I felt kind of absurd.

I'd just arrived back in Tamba after a month long vacation. Three weeks were spent in the States where the streets are paved with gold (or so I've heard) and one week was spent in Dakar with fellow volunteers attending a motivation conference. All four caused me to remember vividly why I'm in the Peace Corps and what I came to Senegal to do. Or try to do. Or not do at all, as fortunes would have it.

I'm straddling two imbalanced and imperfect worlds, with one foot firmly in my American heritage and another teetering on the African landscape. I have two names, I have two personalities, I sometimes have two opinions. By returning home in the middle of my service, even for a fleeting three weeks, I was hit in the face by the absurdity of our world at large and of my situation. This feeling magnified as I returned and to find my Master Farmer project entirely burnt to the ground. Goodbye, months of labor. As the Senegalese say, God is Great. Alhalmdoulilaye.

As a result a feeling of hopelessness descended on me this past week, towards my projects and certain behavioral changes I'd like to initiate. I'd been back to the other side and remembered how far behind Senegal is. I'd seen months of hard work obliterated in a day. I'd been discouraged by how effortlessly I fell back into my lavish American lifestyle. I thought, is this really how it's going to be? I'm going to try, and try, and fail, and go home. As if it never happened.

And then (I bet you're relieved) I promptly kicked that mindset to the curb. The Senegalese are big fans of living in the moment and not worrying about the future. In terms of work, that can be ridiculously frustrating. In terms of stress, it's a fantastic credo. Day by day, my friends.
The important thing to remember is, my projects are not all burnt to the ground. One out of three, still coming out on top - right? Now that I've said that, the school garden will be descended upon by locusts, or something. I'll keep you posted.

Check out my new post below on the December Eye Clinic, if you're interested. Pretty eye-opening experience! (Ha ha...ha)

Until next time,
<3 Phoebe

Daddy Aid Worker

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Vox Souley

2012-01-24 00:51:51

This blog post was written for the Career Matters blog hosted by DevEx. We had been meeting on Skype for about 20 minutes when suddenly, it happened. Through the live video feed, I saw my wife turn around, things shaking in the background. I heard a crackling sound. That is how on Aug. 23 last [...]

Bless the rains down in Africa

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

2012-01-23 22:17:06

The rain gets me. I am a fan of the sun and enjoy perfectly chilly fall day like everyone else, but there is something about rainy days that put me into a reflective mood. During many rainfalls, I think of … Continue reading →

Finding Success in the 21st Century

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Lisa's Blog

2012-01-23 06:14:15

There used to be a ladder to success. It was the college→good job→marriage→house→family→cushy retirement. Sure, not everyone made it, there were a few broken rungs near the bottom but that was the guiding light to the good life and enough people made it that it seemed within reach. A few people questioned this ladder as [...]

Finish your dinner, there are starving children in Africa

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Notes & Ramblings

2012-01-23 06:08:00

I’ve always thought this argument for making kids eat their food was stupid. Whether or not you finish your food will make absolutely no difference to the starving children in Africa. They will remain starving and you will either gain weight or create more trash.

Enjoying chistorra with my sisters in San Sebastian

This holiday season, I was lucky enough spend some time with my family in San Sebastian, Spain. Although the absence of my Abuelo Daniel was hard felt and difficult, I really cannot describe how wonderful it was to be with my parents, my sisters, aunts, and cousin, who I hadn’t seen in over a year! Of course eating jamon Serrano, enjoying three hour lunches at Barkaiztegi, and bar hopping for tapas around the Parte Vieja weren’t so bad either.

I have been told time and time again: the most difficult part of a volunteer’s Peace Corps experience is coming home. Instead of suffering from stress about un-sanitized meat and the swarm of people following you everywhere; you have panic attacks about the ridiculously large selection of cereals on isle 14 and why your Applebees order took five minutes, not three hours-- things that before a short two years in Peace Corps, were normal.

My visit to Spain was too short to really deal with reverse-culture shock. Mostly, I just filled myself with good food, enjoyed family time and western plumbing. I was, however, seriously thrown off by one thing: kids and their rude, spoiled, habits.

Now I have said this before, and I will say it again: I’m not the most kid-friendly person. Africa has made me much, much better at interacting with kids. In fact, after a year here I really thought I was starting to like them, maybe want some of my own one day. Then I went to Spain.

Suddenly, I was yelling at my seven year old cousin: “Do you know, every day, I work with children your age who have nothing to eat? NOTHING! They spend their days carrying 20 liter water jugs on their head! They don’t complain! Do you understand how lucky you are? Eat your delicious fish! It’s delicious! What is wrong with you?! Behave yourself!”.

My cousin was seriously confused. It was unrealistic and rude of me to expect her to understand the hardships of children on a different continent who share nothing in common with her other than age. For a second, her inability to comprehend the struggles of my young Rwandan neighbors infuriated me.

In reality, I hope my cousin will never experience the hunger or strife suffered by the children I work with. But I do hope that she, and all the other picky eaters in this world, will in some way appreciate their luck. The luxury of walking through a grocery store with isles, the ability to be picky, to refuse food and not be hungry: this makes you part of a very, very small percentage of this world.

So I guess I did go through a bit of reverse culture shock. I don’t think you should finish your dinner just because my neighbors in Africa are starving, but maybe don’t complain about getting baked potatoes instead of mashed, regular instead of diet. Take a deep breath, enjoy the variety and the abundance. Life is good.

Speechifying on Decisions and Career Development

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Vox Souley

2012-01-21 02:07:15

This is the text of a speech I gave at the UCDC San Diego orientation. Good evening everyone! Thanks Melody for that great introduction! I’d also like to thank the alumni volunteers Sarah and Paulina, and also Lexi Killoren for inviting me here tonight to speak with you. I learned that today was her last [...]

Two months in 22 more to go

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger From the Desert to the Tropics a Peace Corps Adventure

2012-01-20 18:00:00

SO much has happened since i last wrote which would make sense since it has been a month! Wow it had been a two months already. It doesn't feel like that. At times the days drag on and the months fly by. Sort of like college. I guess i will start off with my new year.

Almost all of my group went to the beach for a long weekend. I left that Friday for Leon and stayed overnight at one of the hostels with three other volunteers it was so much fun. We cooked a dinner of spinach stuffed shells and salad and brownies. We dyed others hair and hung out talking for the whole night. It was perfect. We then left for the beach the next day. I liked in a bungalow like cabin with two other girls there was a pool and a bar restaurant area. The beach was right outside the door. The first day we swam in the pool and beach. That afternoon and evening we did a tour of the mangrove forest which was amazing. Well worth the money. We learned about the animals and nature that was in the area. We got to climb the mangroves and act like monkeys. Then there was a beach cove that we could swim in and look for shells. When we were about to leave a turtle came to shore to lay her eggs an amazing experience to watch. There was also a turtle snatcher that went by. We offered to my his eggs but i didn't have any yet.

That night was New Years night we got back had dinner and did a white elephant gift exchange in favor of Christmas. The hung out and talked until New Years where we did a Hindu tradition since one of the volunteers in Hindu of what i could grasp is washing your problems way and your wants for the new year something like that. It was very interesting to do. Then we went skinydipping in the ocean star gazing.

The next day we all just lounged around and I read a book and just hung out that night we had a bonfire and roasted somors. We did some new years resolutions mine is to become confident and to become fluent in Spanish. Both of which i think i will be able to do. I am reading books about over coming shyness and I feel like it is really helping.

In site i feel like i am making process in getting more comfortable with the people. My youth group is going well and are beginning to finish their bags. My adult English class is surprisingly fun and I fell like they are learning. There will be a test next time so we will see what they can do. I am now working in the summer school class with the students that are struggling. It's hard and not as fun as the adult class. I still can't say that teaching is my calling but it is still soon. School starts in two weeks the rumors are that it will be Feb 13th but i have not heard the official date yet. I also want to get in tough with the town leader to start the trash collection program.

That's about it just hanging out and passing the time. Talk to you all later. XOXOXO

What would Katie do?

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

2012-01-19 20:05:05

I have adopted a new approach to my life in Lesotho: What would Katie do? Katie was my neighbor in our training village and is one of my closest friends in this country. The girl doesn’t know how to utter … Continue reading →

Girls Leading Our World and Boys Excelling

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Notes & Ramblings

2012-01-19 09:22:00

Gender and Development is a priority among Peace Corps Volunteers worldwide. In the 1990’s volunteers in Romania conducted a girl’s empowerment camp they called GLOW: Girls Leading Our World. Since then, the camp has been adopted across the globe in countries where PCV’s live and work. In 2009, Rwanda held the first national GLOW Camp in the capitol city, Kigali. The following year, GLOW was repeated, and a boy’s version: BE, Boys Excelling, was also conducted. In an effort to be more sustainable and inclusive, Peace Corps Rwanda headquarters requested volunteers conduct regional camps in 2011.

When I first heard about the project, I wasn’t impressed. Flashy, expensive, youth camps that local communities never asked for and will probably never conduct on their own, are conducted by all types of international NGOs. It didn’t seem to me like the kind of project meant for a Peace Corps Volunteer: where was the community need, input, and participation? Besides that, I’m not so great at interacting with children or teenagers, and I have never been a camp person. (Thanks Mama and Papa, for never sending me to Camp Thompson).

Then one day my counterpart, Mama Fis, asked me when the GLOW Camps would be this year. Her daughter attended the GLOW Camp last year and loved it. “She learned so much English, she came back so happy!” Mama Fis told me, “I want Fis [her oldest son] to attend this year too!”.

And that’s how I ended up organizing my district’s GLOW & BE Camps.

Preparing for the Camps was a great experience. I wrote and received my first Peace Corps grant, and got a chance to interact with a lot of local leaders that I otherwise probably would have never met. I felt like my coworkers and supervisors at the Health Center, Hospital, and local government office were finally able to see me “do” something, which I hope will result in more people approaching me with ideas for collaboration. Finally, as those of you who have worked with me in the past know, I love to be in charge.

The camps themselves went pretty well. On November 27^th we began the training of trainers for the boy’s camp (a day and a half of just PCVs and community facilitators), followed by four days of fun with twenty-nine boys between the ages of 14 and 18, who all live and study in and around the district. The following week, we did the same with girls.

Activities focused on goal setting; leadership; communication; healthy relationships; decision making; sexual and gender based violence; HIV/AIDS facts and myths; women’s health/birth control; and everyone’s favorite—condom demonstrations. In between lessons we played lots of games, and with the support of a local health center we were able to offer voluntary HIV testing and counseling, which almost all the students participated in. A total of 11 PCVs, 42 students, and over 30 community leaders completed and/or assisted in the successful execution of the camps.

Of course we had some hick-ups along the way (mental note: never expect a government official to show up on the right date or at the right time), but the students all seemed to have a great time and learn something along the way.

Now that the camps are finished, I’m excited to have almost twenty students from my site eager to begin GLOW & BE Clubs at their school. These clubs will allow the students to continue the conversation about issues they discussed at the camps, and share information with their peers. So much for not being good with teenagers!

Breakthrough

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

2012-01-17 18:00:08

When I went to Maseru a few weeks ago, a thick manila envelope with my name on it was waiting in the Maseru District box. Inside it were Peace Corp materials: the Lesotho newsletter, the headquarters publication and the magazine … Continue reading →

Ntate Ted

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

2012-01-16 17:55:07

I have never met Ntate Ted nor would I recognize him if I saw him at an American coffee shop or bar. Yet, I know that he likes a good beer, plays the guitar, can ride horses, has a science … Continue reading →

My SA Community Needs Your Help

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Back In Africa

2012-01-15 20:25:00

So, I know that I’ve already written about this, but figured it couldn’t hurt to mention once more. My project proposal for the Teacher Empowerment Project that I am running has been on the Peace Corps website since around Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, we are not even halfway there.

Now, I ordinarily dislike asking for money, but this is not for me. The education system here is in deep peril, and I implore anyone listening to spread the word and help. And yes, that is correct. I said peril and I don’t feel as though I am exaggerating. I’ll give two brief examples to elucidate my case.

The first comes from an article on education that I recently read. It was called “Reading English in Multilingual South African Primary Schools”; it was written by Yvonne Broom and was in the International Journal of Bilingual Education & Bilingualism. The article provided an in-depth look into how the history of South Africa has shaped the learning abilities of learners in the new (post-1994) South Africa. However, it was a point she made near the end that really caught my attention. She was describing a different article by an N. Alexander called “English unassailable but unattainable: The dilemma of language policy in South African education.” While I have not read this paper, I was struck by his opinion. Broom wrote that “Alexander strongly advocates… to ensure high levels of literacy in at least one African language as well as some fluency in English for the majority of citizens, while the ‘middle classes’ would achieve high levels of literacy in their own language and English.” Frankly, I was appalled. I know that he refers to literacy only, but I fear it goes beyond that to include speaking as well (since that is how it is currently). It may come with good intentions of promoting culture and the different languages of South Africa, but to me, it feels more like keeping South Africans separate; which coincidentally is what Apartheid means in Afrikaans. It seems entirely unfair to allow the middle classes to become fluent in the national language, while the lower classes are left behind. Yes, they may become especially proficient in isiZulu or other African languages, but exactly how far will that get them? Who will they be able to communicate to outside of South Africa… or even outside of their own province?

My second point comes from a brief anecdote during an encounter I had this weekend. It was with Sthembile (from “A Bad Day”). It turned out to be quite the eventful visit at her home, and I hope to write a separate entry about it as soon as I can. For now, I’ll be straight to the point. She has just begun re-taking the 11th grade and she wanted me to write a 1 ½ page essay for her homework. We argued back and forth for much too long and it was apparent I was in the minority (her two neighbors were also arguing against me). The words that came out of her mouth stabbed me in the heart. “It’s okay, Thando,” she started. “We are black. White people can do our work for us because we can’t. There is no problem.”

To hear that from a 16 year old, which in America seems to be the age of I-can-do-anything-because-I’m-invincible thoughts made me realize how bad the situation is.

The education system is truly in peril, and I do not use that term lightly. Please help me to help them. No one here should feel like less of a learner, less of a South African, or less of a person. I’m deeply grateful to everyone who has already helped through word of mouth as well as through monetary donation. It’s a terrible situation, but I’ve found so many with the motivation to resolve it. My project is only for 40 teachers, 7 schools, and one community… but it can bring hope and change to so many more.

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=674-070

Thank you.

a belated happy holidays from c-roon

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Adamawa Ali; a peace corps adventure

2012-01-14 10:14:00

Hello family and friends,

Belated Merry Christmas/Hanukah and Happy New Year! For the holidays, I was fortunate enough to spend time with my sister, Sarah, in France and Germany. I hadn't left Africa since October 2010 so I was a bit blown back things in Europe. Biggest culture shocks or differences that I noticed:

-How fast things are. For example, Sarah and I traveled to Germany from Paris and were able to buy tickets ON THE SPOT for the six-hour voyage the following day. We didn't have to wait three days for a reservation or go through hoops to make transportation work our way. Definitely wasn't used to that one.

-How grumpy people are, especially in Paris. Even people we spoke to who live and work in Paris said that everyone is always like that and that Parisians have a reputation for being grumpy and pessimistic about whatever happens. People seemed to be in such a big rush - and upset the whole time about it. Sarah and I were standing in line for the Eiffel Tower on our last day in Paris, and we started counting how many times people said "pardon" or "excuse me" as we made a space in the long line for them to pass through to the other side. Our count was 1 "pardon" to 6 "________". We stopped counting after that because we were so hurt that people were that disrespectful and mean.

-How goooooooood the food is. So France and my region of the Adamawa in Cameroon generally have the same things - the land is fertile, they have the same seeds, pretty much the same growing season(actually a bit longer of a season here in c-roon) - but food is just soooo much better in France. Why is that? All the same materials but things are so different in the preparation. I was in heaven with all the cheese and vegetables and meat.

Here are photos from our travels around France and Germany:

France and Germany Part I

France Part II

Again, I hope that everyone is having a wonderful holiday season! Happy 2012! Many more stories and thoughts about Cameroon and life soon to come.....

The evacuation, a year later

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

2012-01-12 17:13:02

At least once a week, sometimes more, I have a dream with the same theme. The faces and the situation always change, but the idea doesn’t – evacuated, again. In some dreams, I am already at home and trying to … Continue reading →

Library

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

2012-01-11 17:13:01

I’ve been in my village nearly three weeks and I’m starting my first project – a library. The previous volunteer obtained more than a dozen boxes of books from a university in New Hampshire via the African Library Project. At … Continue reading →

Get out of the house

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

2012-01-10 17:07:00

During both sets of training, in Niger and Lesotho, current volunteers are intertwined into activities and are great sounding boards for fears and obscure questions. They also tend to offer great advice. One of the best nuggets of wisdom I … Continue reading →

The Year of Presence

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

2012-01-09 09:32:42

Going into 2012, I’ve been thinking about what this fresh set of 12 months will mean. This is the middle year of my service, if 2011 is the arrival and 2013 the departure. It will be my first, and probably … Continue reading →

The Future We Want to Live

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Lisa's Blog

2012-01-09 05:19:39

When I was just beginning kindergarten, the leaders of the world came together in Rio de Janeiro for a groundbreaking Earth Summit that put the concept of sustainable development and biological diversity on the global political agenda. While I was chopping the hair off my sister’s Barbies in third grade, the United States whacked the [...]

Post Two: 10.22.2010

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Lurid Tales of Anxiety and Cowardice

2010-10-22 08:10:09

At the Paris Airport. Peace Corps highlights: Cheesesteak, Get Him to the Greek, Wall-E, reubens, and Sam Adams 3-4 hours until Niamey!

Post Three: 5.26.11

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Lurid Tales of Anxiety and Cowardice

2011-05-26 20:46:38

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I am all about money. I mean, just look how well my line of zodiac-inspired toe rings and homeopathic children’s medications are selling on Home Shopping Network. Because I am nothing if not an amazing entrepreneur, I researched what kind of content makes for bestselling books. It turns [...]

Post Four: 6.10.2011

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Lurid Tales of Anxiety and Cowardice

2011-07-02 08:22:17

The next morning I saw from the window of our descending plane a motionless white patch surrounded by the sun. It was Luanda… - Ryszard Kapuściński Sticking with the usual theme, since leaving the Mighty Midwest… I have: Sprinted (alongside a pack of ~50 people) through the Brussels airport in order to make a connecting flight [...]

Post Five: 7.02.2011

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Lurid Tales of Anxiety and Cowardice

2011-07-02 08:46:46

Ex Africa semper aliquid novi - Pliny the Elder Every passing hour brings the Solar System forty-three thousand miles closer to Globular Cluster M13 in Hercules — and still there are some misfits who insist that there is no such thing as progress. - Kurt Vonnegut, Sirens of Titan Since my last post… I have: Eaten [...]

Post Six: 9.23.2011

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Lurid Tales of Anxiety and Cowardice

2011-09-23 09:16:56

I am reminded of how “dark” is an epthet that completely fails to describe Africa. Africa is bathed in light, and it’s the mornings you recall more than the nights with their noises and vague fears. Lizzie chased the light, rising before dawn, waiting for sunrise, capturing color and shadow, black faces with their depth [...]

In Praise of Sublime Frequencies

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger The New Internationalism

2012-01-08 18:46:00

I recently stumbled on this interview with Alan Bishop from the sadly now defunct Arthur Magazine. Alan is probably best known for founding, along with his brother (guitar genius) Sir Richard Bishop and drummer Charles Gocher, the seminal group the Sun City Girls. The Sun City Girls were insufferable punks from Arizona who enjoyed taking the piss and played an unpredictable mixture Arabic, Asian, Gamelan, hardcore punk, and free jazz, (or occasionally incredibly sloppy covers of classic rock numbers) depending on how their modds. The SCGs came to a sad end when the groups when Gocher died of a mysterious illness, leaving Richard to his solo career and allowing Alan to focus on his other love: recording other people's music.

Alan Bishop (along with his brother, Richard) founded the label Sublime Frequencies, which periodically issues what can best be called travel soundtracks. They will record stuff they heard in markets, right of the radio and elsewhere and then walk around accosting the locals or anyone who will listen until they figure out who recorded what, and where they can find more. The label has put out everything from Tuareg music from northern Niger to Burmese pop music to Syrian wedding music to North Korean radio. Suffice it to say, they tend to capture stuff that no one else in the West is listening to. The labels' Group Inerane release: Guitars From Agadez Vol. 1 is a burst of loud guitars, hand clapping, feedback and aggression that makes Black Flag sound like Pat Boone.

What I think is great about Sublime Frequencies is that they edit bizarre and exotic stuff in a completely non-Orientalist way. The music is not treated as fetish properties or overly scholarly documents but rather as a collection of sounds presented within the context that they were (a) heard and (b) aspects of the culture they emerged from. The label does this without losing it's sense of humour. When song names are unknown (which is frequently the case), the label invents their own, often irreverent but still descriptive English titles. The liner notes also frequently make intuitive sense, though would never be the type of narrative expressed by ethno musicologists or most reissue labels. For example, Alan Bishop's notes to Princess Nicotine: Folk And Pop Sounds Of Myanmar:

How do they do it? Are they smarter? Are they better? How can it be ignored or denied? How is it possible that one of the most unique, perfectly composed and performed, intense and awe-inspiring musical legacies the world has ever known is looming north of the equator physically tucked-between world cultural giants India, China, and Thailand, without more than a whisper from ethnomusicologists or those who define themselves as “purveyors of world music”? Not only are the roots of this music unique, but so are the results after incorporating outside instrumentation from modern colonial and (unavoidable) international influence. What the Burmese have done with a piano is so precise in the adaptation to their existing form and melody that one would think they invented it. Burmese music has a very distinct sound and whatever instrument is assimilated into its core only seems to magnify the original intent without depending upon outside ideas relating to each component utilized.

And a clip from the music described below:

Or from the liner notes to the Folk and Pop Sounds of Sumatra compilation:

The equator runs through only ten countries on earth and I bet that you cannot name them all without consulting a map. Indonesia is one of them and the only nation in Asia with the equatorial stripe impaling it. There are so many different cultures spread-out on this chain of islands that it would take several lifetimes to experience them all properly. Within this umbrella of diversity is one of the world's richest and most dazzling sound museums.

In a way, what is being achieved with Sublime Frequencies is something very much akin to what Alan Lomax was trying to do: namely to document various musical forms, stemming from sources both folk and professional. Like Lomax, Sublime Frequencies is a vehicle for exposure to new musical sounds and ideas from people who are genuine enthusiasts for the music. The judgements are left to the listener. Further, Alan Bishop appears to be well aware of the political dimensions that music can take on, and specifically the political dimensions behind many of the SF releases.

An example of this can be found in the quotation below. Alan Bishop is discussing a couple of (then) recent compilations of music from North Korea and Iraq that the label had decided to release following Bush's 'Axis of Evil' Speech. Where questioned about whether people would obviously add political anecdote to their discussions of these discs, Bishop responded:

We don’t worry about that. It is what it is. Everybody plays the role of an unqualified judge, so all that is routine now. When people start worrying about what other people will say about their work, they are dead and successfully under hypnotic control. Most people are not qualified to even discuss politics because they mimic what any dolt could hear from pundits on television. They are mimics, not free thinkers.

We can see this continued engagement with representing aspects of musical culture from other Countries the US remains at odds with. A recent SF release features surf pop instrumentals from Pakistan in the 60s and 70s:

The type of music that Sublime Frequencies releases is not necessarily going to appeal to everyone - a lot of it has been released because it consciously sounds alien to Western audiences. That aside, it is impossible to deny the quality of much of it and it is great to see these musical ideas made available.

The final clip, below is from the Syrian wedding singer Omar Souleyman's live album. Souleyman plays a combination of traditional Syrian folk music and electronic music. His long travelling group includes an electric Saz player (a middle eastern string instrument - sort of a compact Oud) a keyboardist with sampler, and a poet and writer who whispers poetry into Souleyman's ear (while in performance) which Souleyman then transposes into song lyrics live.

Attitude

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

2012-01-06 17:55:17

“Attitude reflect leadership, Captain.” This poorly worded sentence comes “Remember the Titans.” The two of the players were discussing the dysfunction of the team and they argued whose fault it is. I don’t remember much other than that and that … Continue reading →

Our Baker's Dozen Days of Christmas!

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Ubuntu x 2: Joseph & Ashley's Adventures in the Peace Corps

2012-01-05 17:12:00

Here’s a rundown of our Christmas travels 2011!! :)

Day 1 – Ash had celebrations at school that lasted untilabout 2:30 at which point we were on a bus to Chisinau to exchange monies, havelunch/dinner and catch our overnight bus to Brasov, Romania leaving at7:30pm. All went well with only a minorhiccup when we realized we somehow exchanged our Moldovan lei for Britishpounds instead of Turkish Lira… happy we caught it before arriving inBrasov! Outside of the border crossingin which we had to get off the bus and show our luggage/passports both in Moldovaand (an hour later) again on in Romania, the ride to Brasov went ratherwell.

Day 2 – We arrived in Brasov around 5:30am were we metthe woman renting out the apartment we would be staying in for 3 nights… sonice!! We found it on www.airbnb.com … where you can find apartmentsor rooms for rent all over the world that are usually less expensive thanstaying in a hotel. Anyway, we thenslept for a few hours before setting out in search for some brunch, we found agreat place where we enjoyed croissants, coffee, a veggie omelet, and poachedeggs for an incredible price… a great start to our vacation!! We walked around for a bit and attended aChristmas Eve church service in the historic and beautiful Black Church boththe singing and message were in German, which made it all the more majestic(even if we couldn’t understand anything that was happening).

Day 3 – Merry Christmas!! We made ourselves mimosas (orange juice and champagne), which is aChristmas morning tradition for Ash’s family. After a long walk around Brasov, where it was lightly snowing (perfectfor Christmas), we read for awhile in a local coffee shop and returned to ourapartment to watch holiday movies before going out for a nice Christmas dinner. We made our way back to the center of thetown where we took pictures in front of the Christmas tree and bought ourselvessome vin fiert (malt wine) – yumminess!

Day 4 – We woke semi-early (actually setting an alarm onvacation – wow) and took a bus up into the mountains to Poiana, a ski resort,just for the pleasure of being “in” the mountains and seeing the trees coveredin snow. We walked around for awhile andthen took the bus back down into Brasov where we decided to check out thegondola just outside the old city walls. We took the gondola up, up, up and then after enjoying the view andtaking a ridiculous amount of pictures we made our way down, down, down onfoot…. Perfect! After a coffee break,absolutely necessary of course, we made fools of ourselves ice skating but hada blast in the process.

Day 5 – Said goodbye to Brasov and hello to Istanbul viatrain from Brasov to Bucharest and flight from Bucharest to Istanbul. The flightwas delayed, but we finally arrived in Istanbul around 7pm and quickly got lostafter taking a cab and ferry to the neighborhood of our next apartment… afterspeaking with many cab drivers one gracious gentleman actually called the womanwe were renting our apartment from and she ended up meeting us just a couple ofblocks from the apartment without issue. And then sleeps…

Day 6 – Walked around the Asian side of the city andfound a great local café were we enjoyed our first cup of Turkish coffee… wewere instantly hooked. A short ferryride later we were on the European side and found ourselves looking at themarvels that are the New Mosque, Blue Mosque, Hagia Sofia, the Grand Bazaar, SpiceMarket, and every side street that leads to new and exciting areas of thecity. Slightly exhausted we headed backto our apartment, found dinner on the way and ended the evening watching amovie.

Day 7 – Up bright and early and on the ferry for ouramazing Turkish bath experience at Suleymani Hamami (the only Turkish bath forcouples in Istanbul that we know of). Basically we sat on hot marble for half an hour while sweating more thanwe ever have in our lives (sounds appealing doesn’t it? It gets better Ipromise), after which we were scrubbed, bubbled (bubbles!!), and massaged foranother 30 minutes. Lovely and relaxing…the best way to complete said experience was to find a orange juice stand andenjoy two large glasses of fresh-squeezed orange juice as soon as possibleafterwards. :) Life is good :) For lunch we shared aridiculously large sandwich from a street vendor and walked around the GalataTower and Taksim neighborhoods for hours before grabbing a couple of beers andTurkish pizza and heading back to the apartment.

Day 8 – Our last day in Istanbul… sad face. Wondered around the Asian side some more andate what we dubbed a breakfast tocaniţa – basically, pure yumminess in the formof scrambled eggs and veggies all mixed together! Finally we made our way tothe airport via the metro and arrived in Capadochia (central Turkey – look itup!!) around 9:30pm.

Day 9 – Happy New Years Eve!! Enjoyed breakfast and teaat our hostel before heading out for a long walk/hike around Capadoccia –gorgeous and unlike anything we’ve ever seen before. We found a local café and shared somespectacular lentil soup and fresh baked bread with Turkish coffee. We are now hooked on both Turkish coffee andlentil soup – we’ll be giving both a try in the kitchen at some point in thenear future. :) For New Years night wefound a great local restaurant where we enjoyed some great food and liveTurkish music… the music was done by a father and son with the father playing adrum and singing and then son playing a Turkish guitar, absolutelybeautiful. Another unexpected find…

Day 10 – Hello 2012!! Went on our first “official” tourever after finding out there wasn’t any way via public transportation to reacha couple of different sites that we really wanted to see before leavingCapadochia… decided it was definitely worth it in the end (it’s called theGreen tour throughout the region so if you ever find yourself in Capadochiacheck it out!). It started with apanoramic view, beautifully breathtaking, but ridiculously windy. Then a short ride to see an underground city,the largest in the region, where people used to live in order to find safetyfrom attacks. On to the Ihlara Valleywith a short, but very worthwhile hike along the river at the bottom of astunning canyon ending at our lunch spot. After lunch we had a bit of a longer ride to see one of the many cavemonasteries in the region – imagine a labyrinth of rooms built into the side ofa mountain… incredible. Last stop was alocal artisan center, aka an obvious ploy to get us to buy jewelry (although itwas beautiful) and finally back to the center of Goreme (the name of the townwhere we stayed, Capadochia is the region name). We finished our day with a bowl of lentilsoup, homemade hummas, fries (which one of these is not like the other? Haha)and some delicious tea. Perfect!

Day 11 – Ridiculously early morning alarm at 4:00am to beon the shuttle to the airport by 4:30. Easy flight back to Istanbul where we spent the day wandering, finishedwith going to see Mission Impossible 4 (don’t judge :) to pass the time andrest our tired legs. We drank Turkishcoffee for the last time and found some beautiful traditionally painted mugs toremind us of the city. On to the trainat 10pm … yay to first class sleeper cars!! Boo to border crossings at 3:30am!!

Day 12 – Day on the train!! Note to self (and others :) – there are not restaurantcars on every train regardless of the length of the trip, so pack snacks!! Yay for reading, enjoying the country side ofTurkey, Bulgaria, and Romania, listening to music, talking, playing games,drinking French press coffee, and generally enjoying the trip back toMoldova!! Next stop Bucharest… We had only 25 minutes between one train andthe next, but managed to get food and find our train without any problems. The train from Bucharest to Chisinau only gotbetter … We didn’t even have to get out at the border crossing between Romaniaand Moldova – so spoiled!!

Day 13 – Arrived in Chisinau safe and sound around 9amand there you have it!!

We hope that everyone else was able to have as blessed ofa holiday as we were. We definitelymissed our family and friends back home and look forward to when we can spendour holidays together again. Love andlight to you all and Happy New Year!!

47 in ARMENIA

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Down the rabbit hole......Niger......Surface in ARMENIA

2012-01-05 17:25:00

Wedding anniversaries leading up to the 50th may seem insignificant, except to those celebrating them. I'll have to admit that I recall looking at the smiling , white-haired couples in our local newspaper who had reached this pinnacle of married life and thinking, "wow, they are OLD to be married that long". But now we are approaching our own 50th and, yes, I guess we are old in the eyes of many dewey eyed young couples.
Strangely enough, more and more couples are celebrating their 60th anniversaries together so that says something about our life expectancy and state of health, doesn't it?

Last year David and I celebrated our 46th wedding anniversary in Niger,Africa. This unlikely place served us well and we had quite a celebration with our fellow Peace Corps volunteers and staff. (See earlier blog entitled, "46 in Niger"). Now just recently we celebrated our 47th wedding anniversary in a totally different part of the world where many weddings are arranged and divorce is frowned upon by the prevailing cultural practices. On our 46th we'd never have thought that our 47th would not also be in Niger, however, life has a way of presenting surprises along the way and our move to Armenia was certainly one of them.

Here in Armenia couples do not usually date as we did in the U.S. and once a young man and young woman are seen in public together, they are generally considered to be engaged. This assumption , if true, is followed by a large party for the couple's family and close friends where their future together is discussed . The wedding is then planned for not too long after this event. Of course, there are exceptions to this chain of events and there is also "bridenapping" , an entirely different side of the marriage picture.

This year for our 47th wedding anniversary we ate alone at Gaucho's, an Argentine steak house which is one of our favorites in Yerevan. We'd spent the day in meetings at the Peace Corps office and turned down an offer to eat with fellow volunteers so that we could "celebrate" on our own. The following night we did join the group for pizza at a local restaurant and were asked questions about our marriage, secrets to success, and what it was like last year as we celebrated in Niger, Africa. For the 47th, this quiet recognition of our many years of married life was perfect---no need for a huge party for EVERY anniversary. The best part was that we were together in a place where we felt committed to staying, despite its challenges and disappointments. For here in Armenia, one must seek the positive in life and our marriage is truly one of them. Our service with the Peace Corps certainly offers new experiences and chances to learn about a different part of the world as we get older. We hope our work improves the lives of a least a few people we encounter during this 2 years.

In anticipation of next year's 48th wedding anniversary, neither David nor I will even guess where we'll be. We'll just enjoy the present and deal with the future as it comes. And, as we near the golden 50th, we'll appreciate the time here in Armenia and wherever in the world we might be, striving for continued good health and the blessings of supportive family and friends around the world. 46 in Niger; 47 in Armenia; 48 somewhere in the world. Please check in now and then and see where we are. Judy

My home

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger a story

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On a busy compound with animals and gardens there is a round hut made with bricks and straw roof. It is my safe haven. My home sits on the land of a family of three children, a wife who raises … Continue reading →

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Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Niger Lisa's Blog

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On January 1st 2011 I found myself in a circle of women at a polygamous wedding, chatting feminism with the first wife as the new young bride entered the household covered in intricate henna designs. On January 26th, one day after my birthday, I stood alone at the famous Casablanca mosque, hiding my bright Nigerien [...]