Nothing much to report. No problems at site. Decided to make a day trip to Boulsa to check mail and the like. A day trip...as in 70 km round trip by bike in one day. Am I crazy? Nope, I'm PRACTICING.
I've decided that this spring I'm going to do a Tour du Sahel. Dori to Ouahigouya - or possibly the other direction, it's too soon to tell. In total, a distance of 300 km, give or take (more if we do a side tour to visit one volunteer out of the way). But for the most part, there are volunteer sites about every 50km, so the individual days won't be awful, though the heat will be brutal. But there is one stretch of 100km with no one's house to stay at between. Camping is a possibility, but so is making the whole stretch in one day. So it would be nice to know that I can do it without dying. Of course, conditions are MUCH easier right now - it's so cold I was biking until 10 o'clock and I barely broke a sweat.
I may actually tack on another 150km by biking from my site to Dori as well, if we end up going that direction. The reason for that is that in late my we have a mask festival chez moi, and the two volunteers who have expressed an interest in biking the Sahel with me have also expressed an interest in attending said festival. And I'll have to be in Ouahigouya in early June anyway for training, if I get a spot working the next stage. Unfortunately, while I should know whether I've been accepted for that sometime in March or April, the way holidays work here I won't know the date of the mask festival until just a couple weeks before it happens. We'll see.
Oh, I DO have news, it's just not site-related. I have been accepted on the Food Security Committee, and my job is to coordinate tree-planting projects, both to fight desertification and to improve crop yields. I'm very excited by this job! I will probably also work pretty heavily on preparing educational materials in Mooré, once my language is up to snuff. There's a nice synergy going on between my interests and my responsibilities right now.
And now lunch. I need to eat a lot. I do still have 35km to bike today!
Coming soon: Have you applied to the Peace Corps? Are you coming to West Africa? I actually don't know whether or not anyone fitting that description reads this blog, but my next planned post may be interesting to friends and family as well. I'm going to make a list of what I've brought or had sent that has been really useful, and what was a complete waste of luggage space. Stay tuned!
23 January 2009
07 January 2009
Vacation continued
First, I would just like to point out that while I have mentioned more than once how cool C and Y are, it needs saying that C's friends, J, S, and M are also awesome. M had spent a few months in Ghana studying turtles (how freakin' cool is that); S and J had never before been to Africa. And none of them speak French. Yet they were fearless during this trip.
Dec 31, Day 5: New Year's in Bobo
We got up early and took the bush taxi back into Banfora. Fortunately, we didn't go by the same bus stop as before, so I didn't see my new faux type fan. We hung out at the gare waiting for the bus, and as it was a long wait some of us decided to go for a walk. J, S, and M went off by themselves (see how cool they are? No French, but they just went wandering without any of us with them to interpret. And they got by just fine), C went to find a phone to call a friend, and I wandered about too. Y (and another volunteer, K, and her RPCV boyfriend, B, who had joined us; sorry that I forgot to mention them sooner.) stayed with the bags. On my perambulation, I found McDonald's, which I'd heard about before. It's not a part of the fast food chain, but still it's a funny name here, and to add to the strangeness their decor is mostly Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck. I also stopped in a "Chinese Health Store" because I was curious what such a place might sell. Mostly erection-enhancement pills with incredibly graphic pictures on the boxes, if you were wondering.
After we were safely on our way to Bobo, I texted my new boyfriend to tell him that I'd left Banfora and wouldn't be back for a long time, as I live very far away. He still calls. Thank goodness and Nokia for number screening.
After arriving in Bobo, we tried to stay at a place called La Pacha (I don't know what that means), but they were jerks so we instead chose to stay at Casa Africa, which was definitely the better way to go. We found that several other volunteers were staying there too (so of the 9 rooms, PCVs had at least 4 of them). Dinner was great, though I found my steak to be incredibly tough compared to everyone else's - until I realized that they had gotten actual steak knives and I had a butter knife.
I tried to take a nap, as all the others were doing, so that we could stay up for the New Year, but just couldn't get to sleep. So I ambled into the lobby and started looking at the carvings and musical instruments on sale there. I met the man who makes them, and when I told him I was a Peace Corps volunteer, he became downright effusive. He loves the PC, it turns out. Since Casa Africa is a common place for volunteers visiting the region (or those who live nearby taking a weekend trip to Bobo), he has many friends who are current and returned volunteers. Apparently, one even ordered jewelry from him and sold it in the states for him, and the profits were enough for him to buy a motorcycle. He said that now, whenever a volunteer finishes service, if they want to use a moto to travel Africa, they can always borrow his, because it's an American moto. Then, he said that since I was a volunteer and it was a holiday, he would give me a gift - a small wooden elephant, which is now a permanent fixture in my pocket. He promised to teach me how to play a game that looked similar to Mancala the next day.
Everyone else got up, and we went to Bois d'Ebene (Ebony Wood) to celebrate the New Year in style. It was expensive, but we got a four-course meal and a hell of a show. First a band that did traditional music and dance, who played almost entirely for our group as no one else had showed up yet, then a band that played a mix of latin, French, and Burkinabe music, plus one Credence Clearwater Revival song. They were lots of fun.
And here in the story I must pause and direct your attention to my posts from 19 June and 5 July 2008, where I mentioned that I don't enjoy dancing. What I failed to mention was that I enjoy it so little that at the 4th of July party I ranted at someone about not wanting to dance - and it wasn't even one of the people who had been harassing me.
Well, it's a new year. I danced. By choice, without a drop to drink, and in fact without even being asked. *I* asked. I told Y that her new mission is to teach me to dance, and that I wanted to start right then. And we did. And it wasn't awful. I still feel like an uncoordinated fool on the dance floor, I can't change that overnight, but I can decide not to care. So we danced and had a good time. I didn't exactly make dancing a New Year's resolution (my actual resolution is that every day I will use at least one French or Moore word or grammar point that I don't have a good grasp on), but I do plan on going dancing pretty much whenever I get the opportunity so that I can learn. Whether I'll ever love like I've never been hurt or work like I don't need the money remains to be seen. One thing at a time.
Jan 1, Day 6: Sya
We walked around Bobo the next day. Being a holiday, very little was open, but we did discover to our chagrin that faux types don't take a break. It was really ridiculous, it seemed like we couldn't take three steps without ONE of us getting harassed. Mostly the girls, of course. C really went off on one guy, and he still then tried to get me to talk to her to calm her down so he could talk to her some more. I need to learn the French equivalent of "Go piss up a rope."
We hired a guide and walked around Sya, which is the name of the original settlement that became Bobo-Dioulasso, and where people still follow many of the original 14th century traditions of the settlement (with the 19th century addition of Islam into the mix). Often our tour guide answered our questions with "C'est le secret, on n'explique pas," ("That's a secret, we don't discuss it," a response C said she would use the next time a faux type asked her name). Basically, it was a tour of gift shops, but they were some of the coolest gift shops you'd ever hope to see. There was a mask shop with some really fascinating work (out of my price range), a mud-dyed cloth shop (I got a hat), and a bronze worker who makes things that are surprisingly modern-art style and absolutely beautiful and I hate that I didn't take any pictures there. While at the mask booth, C observed that successful shopping in West Africa is much like Zen Buddhism - you must free yourself from wanting.
Walking back to the hotel with the group, I almost got arrested. Apparently, the Burkina flag is lowered twice a day, and when this happens, everyone stops to watch. Well, we don't have a flag in my village. They're usually at the police or gendarme station, and we're so small that we have neither. I'd never, ever heard of this. So we heard a police whistle, glanced over and saw that the policemen were not looking at us, assumed that the whistle was for the traffic they'd been directing and kept walking. About 30 seconds later, a HUGE police officer comes running after us, yelling. We stop and turn, and he points at me with a furious look on his face and tells me that I just disrespected the whole country. Why me and not the other 5? Maybe my silly goatee, maybe my new hat...but most likely the simple fact that I am a man (as is S, but he doesn't speak French, so just as well I was chosen to bear the brunt of this tirade) and therefore the leader of the group (completely untrue, I could never coordinate a trip like this with the suaveness and assuredness of C, our fearless leader). This guy just couldn't wrap his head around the idea that I might not have known what the whistle was about. I apologized profusely and obliquely offered to pay a "fine", because the guy was so upset that I really thought it was going to be that or go to jail. But he was, in fact, truly offended by our not "stopping for the colors," as this practice is called, without being corrupt - after several minutes of haranguing me, he sent us on our way. I've been cagey about hearing whistles ever since.
After a dinner of Africanized curried chicken, I went to bed tired, ready to leave Bobo, and hoping that my new wooden elephant (and J's, she'd gotten one too) would bring us luck at our next stop, Boromo.
Jan 2, Day 7: Koro
But before leaving for Boromo, we decided to bike out to a cliffside dwelling called Koro, a governmentally sponsored tourist locale. In what had by now become the theme of our trip, the bike ride was longer than expected. As to the site itself, if I had it to do over again I'd have lobbied to join K and B visiting the sacred catfish ponds instead. Oh well. There's really not much to say about Koro otherwise. There were some good views, but the tour was very short, and our guide was not very interested. And so neither were we.
From there we caught a Rakieta bus to Boromo, and while we'd seen the scenery before on the way down (dead flower-tree!), the bus itself is worth mentioning. It was like being in America. Large, cushy seats, air conditioning with adjustable vents, drinks sold ON THE BUS, TV screens that folded down from the ceiling, even a BATHROOM! I'd better not ever hear those Southwesterners complain about transport. It was downright bizarre after months of buses crammed with people and animals, stifling hot with all the windows closed (Burkinabe hate opening windows on buses, I don't know why) unless you're lucky enough that one of them is missing. We got into Boromo without incident, and found a hotel. And after lugging around a tent, ThermaRest and blanket the whole trip, I finally had a chance to use them, as it was much easier than taking a room. The staff at this hotel was incredibly helpful, and while they didn't serve food there the proprietor took our orders and went into town and delivered our dinner to us. J, S, and M finally had the chance to experience a bucket bath and a latrine, as this was the first place we'd stayed that did not have toilets and showers.
Jan 3, Day 8: Boromo
I haven't mentioned why we stopped in Boromo, though I've dropped a hint. Why did I hope our wooden elephants would be lucky? Well, for one thing, because that's what they're supposed to do, bring luck. But for another, the reason we'd stopped in Boromo was because there is an animal reserve there with several herds of elephants.
We'd negotiated a price the night before to have a 4x4 pick us up at the hotel at 6 and drive us to, and through, the park. What we GOT was a four-door midsize sedan at 8:30 that drove us to the park and then stopped, as the noise would scare off the elephants. On the plus side, this meant that we payed much less; on the minus side, it meant we - no, not "we," C and Y, have I mentioned how awesome I think they are? - were arguing about the new price right up until we left town. Anyway, we got our tracker and went into the park on foot. We passed by elephant dung, which I considered taking a picture of in case we never saw elephants, so at least prove that we'd been somewhat near them. I decided that I'd take a picture on our way out if it came to that.
There are no pictures of elephant dung on my camera. About a half hour into our walk, the guide stopped and asked if we'd heard that sound. I'd heard nothing, but he said it was an elephant sound and we needed to be quiet. We were, and we followed, deep into grass which had been obviously trampled in parts, until he stopped us and pointed - and just on the edge of visibility due to the high grass, we saw them. A group of a couple dozen, including young elephants (which by the way, makes it a dangerous group to approach, you don't piss any animal moms off if you can help it, and elephants are no exception). We raised our cameras to try to get some pictures, thinking how cool it was to be just a couple hundred yards away, even if we couldn't see them well. After a few minutes, they ran on, and we took a different route to where the guide thought they might go.
He was right, and this time we were both closer and had a better view - maybe 100 yds away. Really, really, really awesome. But it got even better. He'd put us in a place where their path brought them even closer...maybe 50 yds away at the closest. We were just half a football field from real, wild African elephants! Like I said, the best part of the trip. Good job, wooden elephants. A side note - after telling us to be quiet and making us crouch down to avoid scaring the elephants, our guide got A PHONE CALL. And he answered it and talked on the phone, loudly. These elephants aren't all THAT scared of people apparently.
Apparently he'd been talking to another guide; we met up with another group and continued our hunt. Unfortunately for the others, we did not see any other elephants, nor any other animals. They were really upset, and I did feel bad for them, but it was hard to feel too bad after our elation at seeing them ourselves.
That evening we made it back safely to Ouaga, and stayed out ridiculously late dancing. I didn't dance very much this time, but I did some. And a final note on how cool my companions were: when we sat down, everyone got up to dance, except me. J and M noticed and asked why, and I told them someone had to watch the bags. And so they picked all the bags back up and carried them for a song so I could join them. And then I sat back down because by then I was quite drunk (and I didn't enjoy this club as much, too loud and full of, um, ladies of negotiable affections). But a good time was had by all.
End of vacation
Well, for me. As I said, C, J, S and M kept traveling (Y went back to her site), but I have had to stay in Ouaga for IST. Which has been ok, but nothing worth writing home about. I've gotten some great ideas about what I want to do at site over the next couple months, and equally importantly I've gotten some lesson plans from other people, so I'll actually have the time to DO some of those things.
Since I've spent so much time away from site, I probably won't leave again until February, when I will come back to Ouaga for the meeting of a committee I'm applying to be on. Until then, take care, my friends, and if you've texted me and your name is not Joey, be assured that I have not received it. Sorry.
Dec 31, Day 5: New Year's in Bobo
We got up early and took the bush taxi back into Banfora. Fortunately, we didn't go by the same bus stop as before, so I didn't see my new faux type fan. We hung out at the gare waiting for the bus, and as it was a long wait some of us decided to go for a walk. J, S, and M went off by themselves (see how cool they are? No French, but they just went wandering without any of us with them to interpret. And they got by just fine), C went to find a phone to call a friend, and I wandered about too. Y (and another volunteer, K, and her RPCV boyfriend, B, who had joined us; sorry that I forgot to mention them sooner.) stayed with the bags. On my perambulation, I found McDonald's, which I'd heard about before. It's not a part of the fast food chain, but still it's a funny name here, and to add to the strangeness their decor is mostly Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck. I also stopped in a "Chinese Health Store" because I was curious what such a place might sell. Mostly erection-enhancement pills with incredibly graphic pictures on the boxes, if you were wondering.
After we were safely on our way to Bobo, I texted my new boyfriend to tell him that I'd left Banfora and wouldn't be back for a long time, as I live very far away. He still calls. Thank goodness and Nokia for number screening.
After arriving in Bobo, we tried to stay at a place called La Pacha (I don't know what that means), but they were jerks so we instead chose to stay at Casa Africa, which was definitely the better way to go. We found that several other volunteers were staying there too (so of the 9 rooms, PCVs had at least 4 of them). Dinner was great, though I found my steak to be incredibly tough compared to everyone else's - until I realized that they had gotten actual steak knives and I had a butter knife.
I tried to take a nap, as all the others were doing, so that we could stay up for the New Year, but just couldn't get to sleep. So I ambled into the lobby and started looking at the carvings and musical instruments on sale there. I met the man who makes them, and when I told him I was a Peace Corps volunteer, he became downright effusive. He loves the PC, it turns out. Since Casa Africa is a common place for volunteers visiting the region (or those who live nearby taking a weekend trip to Bobo), he has many friends who are current and returned volunteers. Apparently, one even ordered jewelry from him and sold it in the states for him, and the profits were enough for him to buy a motorcycle. He said that now, whenever a volunteer finishes service, if they want to use a moto to travel Africa, they can always borrow his, because it's an American moto. Then, he said that since I was a volunteer and it was a holiday, he would give me a gift - a small wooden elephant, which is now a permanent fixture in my pocket. He promised to teach me how to play a game that looked similar to Mancala the next day.
Everyone else got up, and we went to Bois d'Ebene (Ebony Wood) to celebrate the New Year in style. It was expensive, but we got a four-course meal and a hell of a show. First a band that did traditional music and dance, who played almost entirely for our group as no one else had showed up yet, then a band that played a mix of latin, French, and Burkinabe music, plus one Credence Clearwater Revival song. They were lots of fun.
And here in the story I must pause and direct your attention to my posts from 19 June and 5 July 2008, where I mentioned that I don't enjoy dancing. What I failed to mention was that I enjoy it so little that at the 4th of July party I ranted at someone about not wanting to dance - and it wasn't even one of the people who had been harassing me.
Well, it's a new year. I danced. By choice, without a drop to drink, and in fact without even being asked. *I* asked. I told Y that her new mission is to teach me to dance, and that I wanted to start right then. And we did. And it wasn't awful. I still feel like an uncoordinated fool on the dance floor, I can't change that overnight, but I can decide not to care. So we danced and had a good time. I didn't exactly make dancing a New Year's resolution (my actual resolution is that every day I will use at least one French or Moore word or grammar point that I don't have a good grasp on), but I do plan on going dancing pretty much whenever I get the opportunity so that I can learn. Whether I'll ever love like I've never been hurt or work like I don't need the money remains to be seen. One thing at a time.
Jan 1, Day 6: Sya
We walked around Bobo the next day. Being a holiday, very little was open, but we did discover to our chagrin that faux types don't take a break. It was really ridiculous, it seemed like we couldn't take three steps without ONE of us getting harassed. Mostly the girls, of course. C really went off on one guy, and he still then tried to get me to talk to her to calm her down so he could talk to her some more. I need to learn the French equivalent of "Go piss up a rope."
We hired a guide and walked around Sya, which is the name of the original settlement that became Bobo-Dioulasso, and where people still follow many of the original 14th century traditions of the settlement (with the 19th century addition of Islam into the mix). Often our tour guide answered our questions with "C'est le secret, on n'explique pas," ("That's a secret, we don't discuss it," a response C said she would use the next time a faux type asked her name). Basically, it was a tour of gift shops, but they were some of the coolest gift shops you'd ever hope to see. There was a mask shop with some really fascinating work (out of my price range), a mud-dyed cloth shop (I got a hat), and a bronze worker who makes things that are surprisingly modern-art style and absolutely beautiful and I hate that I didn't take any pictures there. While at the mask booth, C observed that successful shopping in West Africa is much like Zen Buddhism - you must free yourself from wanting.
Walking back to the hotel with the group, I almost got arrested. Apparently, the Burkina flag is lowered twice a day, and when this happens, everyone stops to watch. Well, we don't have a flag in my village. They're usually at the police or gendarme station, and we're so small that we have neither. I'd never, ever heard of this. So we heard a police whistle, glanced over and saw that the policemen were not looking at us, assumed that the whistle was for the traffic they'd been directing and kept walking. About 30 seconds later, a HUGE police officer comes running after us, yelling. We stop and turn, and he points at me with a furious look on his face and tells me that I just disrespected the whole country. Why me and not the other 5? Maybe my silly goatee, maybe my new hat...but most likely the simple fact that I am a man (as is S, but he doesn't speak French, so just as well I was chosen to bear the brunt of this tirade) and therefore the leader of the group (completely untrue, I could never coordinate a trip like this with the suaveness and assuredness of C, our fearless leader). This guy just couldn't wrap his head around the idea that I might not have known what the whistle was about. I apologized profusely and obliquely offered to pay a "fine", because the guy was so upset that I really thought it was going to be that or go to jail. But he was, in fact, truly offended by our not "stopping for the colors," as this practice is called, without being corrupt - after several minutes of haranguing me, he sent us on our way. I've been cagey about hearing whistles ever since.
After a dinner of Africanized curried chicken, I went to bed tired, ready to leave Bobo, and hoping that my new wooden elephant (and J's, she'd gotten one too) would bring us luck at our next stop, Boromo.
Jan 2, Day 7: Koro
But before leaving for Boromo, we decided to bike out to a cliffside dwelling called Koro, a governmentally sponsored tourist locale. In what had by now become the theme of our trip, the bike ride was longer than expected. As to the site itself, if I had it to do over again I'd have lobbied to join K and B visiting the sacred catfish ponds instead. Oh well. There's really not much to say about Koro otherwise. There were some good views, but the tour was very short, and our guide was not very interested. And so neither were we.
From there we caught a Rakieta bus to Boromo, and while we'd seen the scenery before on the way down (dead flower-tree!), the bus itself is worth mentioning. It was like being in America. Large, cushy seats, air conditioning with adjustable vents, drinks sold ON THE BUS, TV screens that folded down from the ceiling, even a BATHROOM! I'd better not ever hear those Southwesterners complain about transport. It was downright bizarre after months of buses crammed with people and animals, stifling hot with all the windows closed (Burkinabe hate opening windows on buses, I don't know why) unless you're lucky enough that one of them is missing. We got into Boromo without incident, and found a hotel. And after lugging around a tent, ThermaRest and blanket the whole trip, I finally had a chance to use them, as it was much easier than taking a room. The staff at this hotel was incredibly helpful, and while they didn't serve food there the proprietor took our orders and went into town and delivered our dinner to us. J, S, and M finally had the chance to experience a bucket bath and a latrine, as this was the first place we'd stayed that did not have toilets and showers.
Jan 3, Day 8: Boromo
I haven't mentioned why we stopped in Boromo, though I've dropped a hint. Why did I hope our wooden elephants would be lucky? Well, for one thing, because that's what they're supposed to do, bring luck. But for another, the reason we'd stopped in Boromo was because there is an animal reserve there with several herds of elephants.
We'd negotiated a price the night before to have a 4x4 pick us up at the hotel at 6 and drive us to, and through, the park. What we GOT was a four-door midsize sedan at 8:30 that drove us to the park and then stopped, as the noise would scare off the elephants. On the plus side, this meant that we payed much less; on the minus side, it meant we - no, not "we," C and Y, have I mentioned how awesome I think they are? - were arguing about the new price right up until we left town. Anyway, we got our tracker and went into the park on foot. We passed by elephant dung, which I considered taking a picture of in case we never saw elephants, so at least prove that we'd been somewhat near them. I decided that I'd take a picture on our way out if it came to that.
There are no pictures of elephant dung on my camera. About a half hour into our walk, the guide stopped and asked if we'd heard that sound. I'd heard nothing, but he said it was an elephant sound and we needed to be quiet. We were, and we followed, deep into grass which had been obviously trampled in parts, until he stopped us and pointed - and just on the edge of visibility due to the high grass, we saw them. A group of a couple dozen, including young elephants (which by the way, makes it a dangerous group to approach, you don't piss any animal moms off if you can help it, and elephants are no exception). We raised our cameras to try to get some pictures, thinking how cool it was to be just a couple hundred yards away, even if we couldn't see them well. After a few minutes, they ran on, and we took a different route to where the guide thought they might go.
He was right, and this time we were both closer and had a better view - maybe 100 yds away. Really, really, really awesome. But it got even better. He'd put us in a place where their path brought them even closer...maybe 50 yds away at the closest. We were just half a football field from real, wild African elephants! Like I said, the best part of the trip. Good job, wooden elephants. A side note - after telling us to be quiet and making us crouch down to avoid scaring the elephants, our guide got A PHONE CALL. And he answered it and talked on the phone, loudly. These elephants aren't all THAT scared of people apparently.
Apparently he'd been talking to another guide; we met up with another group and continued our hunt. Unfortunately for the others, we did not see any other elephants, nor any other animals. They were really upset, and I did feel bad for them, but it was hard to feel too bad after our elation at seeing them ourselves.
That evening we made it back safely to Ouaga, and stayed out ridiculously late dancing. I didn't dance very much this time, but I did some. And a final note on how cool my companions were: when we sat down, everyone got up to dance, except me. J and M noticed and asked why, and I told them someone had to watch the bags. And so they picked all the bags back up and carried them for a song so I could join them. And then I sat back down because by then I was quite drunk (and I didn't enjoy this club as much, too loud and full of, um, ladies of negotiable affections). But a good time was had by all.
End of vacation
Well, for me. As I said, C, J, S and M kept traveling (Y went back to her site), but I have had to stay in Ouaga for IST. Which has been ok, but nothing worth writing home about. I've gotten some great ideas about what I want to do at site over the next couple months, and equally importantly I've gotten some lesson plans from other people, so I'll actually have the time to DO some of those things.
Since I've spent so much time away from site, I probably won't leave again until February, when I will come back to Ouaga for the meeting of a committee I'm applying to be on. Until then, take care, my friends, and if you've texted me and your name is not Joey, be assured that I have not received it. Sorry.
06 January 2009
Burkina vacation!
I mentioned in my Thanksgiving post that I made travel plans for the New Year. I'm now in Ouaga, vacation over (I'm not back at site because we have a training session). It was an excellent vacation. Excellent. Definitely makes my top three list. I'm antsy to get back to site now, I've been gone since the 27th. Even so, I'm extending my stay in Ouaga by a day so that I can see my traveling companions - or most of them - one more time as they pass back through (they've naturally continued on while I'm stuck here). Which gives you an idea of how cool they are. But first things first...
Christmas in village
Exhausting. Christmas was celebrated the way all holidays are celebrated here - lots of eating and drinking. And my village is nearly all Christian. So there was even MORE eating and drinking than for other holidays. I'd spend three hours at one house, eating and drinking, then be directed to another, where I was also expected to eat and drink. Then another. After the first two, I was going to houses of people I didn't know. I was finally allowed to stagger home around 11 at night (I'm usually in bed with a book by 7:30). And because I was expected to visit all of these people, I was only able to spend about 5 minutes at my best village friend's house.
Which meant that the next night, the 26th, I spent a lot of time with him. He was justifiably upset that I hadn't spent more of Christmas with him, so I needed to let him know he's important to me - I wouldn't have survived my first months at site without the support of this guy. Unfortunately, this meant yet another late night, this time right before having to get up at 4 so I could bike 3 hours to catch transport to Ouaga. Oh well. I made it. And thus began the trip.
Dec 27, Day 1: Ouaga
Met with Y and C, my two PCV travel companions. While waiting for C's friends to arrive (they came from the states to visit her here in Africa, I wish *I* had friends that awesome, hint hint), we had dinner at a Lebanese place (you'd really be surprised how common they are here). I kicked off our adventure by eating adventurously...well, not REALLY, but I tried an avocado milkshake. And now all I can say is move over chocolate, and give it up banana. This milkshake was just shockingly good. Off to a good start.
Dec 28, Day 2: Transport to Banfora
There was this one species of tree, that unfortunately I only saw from the bus and never anywhere we stopped (I wanted a cutting). It was totally bare, dead-looking, except for random splashes of color that at first I thought were something people had placed there. Until we passed one closer to the road, and I realized they were flowers. Brilliant, beautiful red and orange flowers on trees otherwise totally devoid of signs of life. Y commented that it was much like Burkina (at least our parts of it) - a splash of life made all the more beautiful for the desolation on which it grew. She's kind of poetic, I guess. I tried to get pictures, but I don't think any turned out (I don't have my camera to upload them, so they won't show up in this post anyway).
On the way to Bobo, the bus stopped for 15 minutes in a place called Boromo. This place will come up later in the trip. But it was this first time passing through that we discovered that for some reason people there REALLY want you to buy sesame cakes. All of the vendors are aggressive, but it really was ridiculous how long they could expound on the vitamins found in their sesame, and this AFTER you've told them "No thanks, good market" - a phrase that works 98 times out of 100 in Ouaga and points north. It turns out that its not working in Boromo was a bit of foreshadowing...
Finally we arrived in Banfora, our first destination. We spent the night in a place called the Canne a Sucre (Sugar Cane) which was really, really nice, and not very expensive. I highly recommend it. Beautiful flora, decorations from several different Burkinabe ethnicities, and a very accomodating staff. As we were six, we got a three bedroom bungalow all to ourselves.
Dec 29, Day 3: The Cascades (Waterfalls)
It's really a beautiful bike ride out, about 10 km. We did a lot of biking this trip, and I loved every second of it. In fact, I'm now planning a biking vacation for my next one. One person I can be certain will NOT join me on that one is Y, who probably biked more in this one vacation than she had in all her previous 19 months in country. But she's tough.
We stopped on the way at a place called Campement Baobab to order pizza at a place about halfway there, so that it would be ready when we got back. It wasn't, natch, but still, we wouldn't have gotten any if we hadn't ordered on the way.
Then C ran over a snake. That was fun. It darted in front of her bike such that she ran right over its middle; fortunately, she had the wherewithal to lift her legs and NOT brake, so that it couldn't bite her (though it tried). C is tough too. I was next behind her, and my options were to stop and just miss it or run over it myself. I chose to stop, and fortunately the snake in its turn chose not to turn and bite me.
Speaking of my companions' formidability, when we got to the entrance of the falls, we found there were two different prices, those for foreigners and those for Burkinabe nationals. We did not pay the foreigner price. Which I really do think is fair, given that we live here, I just probably wouldn't have bothered trying to argue the point myself - our white skin makes it a hard sell. But they did it. There and everywhere else on the trip. They really are awesome.
The falls were beautiful. What else can I say? It's not schisto season, and you have to stay in the water 15 minutes to catch it, but all the same, we were careful. We did not have time to check out a nearby rock formation called the "Domes", but I can't complain really, the view we got was stunning enough. I got what I hope were really good pictures. Speaking of, I was very happy with my camera batteries this trip. All the same, I'm in the market for a film camera, since on my next vacations I won't be staying in posh places with current.
On our way back, we ate those pizzas I mentioned, and they were better than Ouaga pizzas. True to the name of the place, there was baobab fruit on the pizza. Very yummy. First time I'd tasted the fruit itself, though I'd had a drink made with the juice once, and sauce made from the leaves is common enough.
I mentioned we missed the Domes due to time constraints. We were actually running two hours late, but I'd made contact with a total faux type at the gare who found us transport after our taxi brousse had left. They do have their uses. Although now the guy STILL calls me every day. Ugh. I took one for the team there, but it was worth it as we were able to travel on to Sindou that evening.
Dec 30, Day 4: The Sindou Peaks
After a night at a basic but nice enough hotel, we biked out to hike the peaks of Sindou, where we learned that the peaks are part of the same rock formation as the cascades and domes in Banfora, and in fact the same rock formation as the cliff dwellings in Dogon Country in Mali. The ethnicity in Sindou are the Senoufou, who migrated from Dogon in the 1400s. They were told by their god that if they lived on a plateau in the peaks, and never descended, he would provide their food and protect them from their enemies. After colonization and the end of tribal warfare in the 1800s, they asked their god and he allowed them to descend, promising still to protect them from their enemies but to no longer provide food, as on the plains below they could cultivate for themselves. I plan on going back to explore more of Senoufou country, as they have a warrior sect known as "the Samurai of Burkina". There are ruins of houses on the plateau, but it turns out they're from a film shot there in the 80s. Still, once again, beautiful views.
After that, we biked out to a barrage we'd heard about, which we were told was beautiful - somewhat surprising for a barrage here. Its merits were not overstated. Though on the way we stopped at a small pond and decided that if it had been what we were told about someone would be getting hurt. It wasn't - it's just that the estimate of distance to the actual barrage was off...by about 70%. 6km, 10km, what's the difference? Quite a bit depending on how much water you brought with you. Still, totally worth it. Blue-green water in Burkina! Nice enough to swim in probably, though we didn't.
Ok, that's it for this update. I'll pick up later with New Year's in Bobo, nearly getting arrested, and riding a bus that is totally out of place in this country. I'll also cover what turned out to be the best part of the trip (outside of the company I kept), but I'm not giving you any hints.
Christmas in village
Exhausting. Christmas was celebrated the way all holidays are celebrated here - lots of eating and drinking. And my village is nearly all Christian. So there was even MORE eating and drinking than for other holidays. I'd spend three hours at one house, eating and drinking, then be directed to another, where I was also expected to eat and drink. Then another. After the first two, I was going to houses of people I didn't know. I was finally allowed to stagger home around 11 at night (I'm usually in bed with a book by 7:30). And because I was expected to visit all of these people, I was only able to spend about 5 minutes at my best village friend's house.
Which meant that the next night, the 26th, I spent a lot of time with him. He was justifiably upset that I hadn't spent more of Christmas with him, so I needed to let him know he's important to me - I wouldn't have survived my first months at site without the support of this guy. Unfortunately, this meant yet another late night, this time right before having to get up at 4 so I could bike 3 hours to catch transport to Ouaga. Oh well. I made it. And thus began the trip.
Dec 27, Day 1: Ouaga
Met with Y and C, my two PCV travel companions. While waiting for C's friends to arrive (they came from the states to visit her here in Africa, I wish *I* had friends that awesome, hint hint), we had dinner at a Lebanese place (you'd really be surprised how common they are here). I kicked off our adventure by eating adventurously...well, not REALLY, but I tried an avocado milkshake. And now all I can say is move over chocolate, and give it up banana. This milkshake was just shockingly good. Off to a good start.
Dec 28, Day 2: Transport to Banfora
C's friends, S, J, and M, arrived safe and sound, and late, so not too bright and early the next morning we departed from Ouaga and began our trip in earnest.
Mostly spent that day on buses. As we went south, the landscape changed dramatically. I never left the country on this trip, but I felt for most of it like I had. It's really pretty in the south. And wet. And hilly.There was this one species of tree, that unfortunately I only saw from the bus and never anywhere we stopped (I wanted a cutting). It was totally bare, dead-looking, except for random splashes of color that at first I thought were something people had placed there. Until we passed one closer to the road, and I realized they were flowers. Brilliant, beautiful red and orange flowers on trees otherwise totally devoid of signs of life. Y commented that it was much like Burkina (at least our parts of it) - a splash of life made all the more beautiful for the desolation on which it grew. She's kind of poetic, I guess. I tried to get pictures, but I don't think any turned out (I don't have my camera to upload them, so they won't show up in this post anyway).
On the way to Bobo, the bus stopped for 15 minutes in a place called Boromo. This place will come up later in the trip. But it was this first time passing through that we discovered that for some reason people there REALLY want you to buy sesame cakes. All of the vendors are aggressive, but it really was ridiculous how long they could expound on the vitamins found in their sesame, and this AFTER you've told them "No thanks, good market" - a phrase that works 98 times out of 100 in Ouaga and points north. It turns out that its not working in Boromo was a bit of foreshadowing...
Finally we arrived in Banfora, our first destination. We spent the night in a place called the Canne a Sucre (Sugar Cane) which was really, really nice, and not very expensive. I highly recommend it. Beautiful flora, decorations from several different Burkinabe ethnicities, and a very accomodating staff. As we were six, we got a three bedroom bungalow all to ourselves.
Dec 29, Day 3: The Cascades (Waterfalls)
It's really a beautiful bike ride out, about 10 km. We did a lot of biking this trip, and I loved every second of it. In fact, I'm now planning a biking vacation for my next one. One person I can be certain will NOT join me on that one is Y, who probably biked more in this one vacation than she had in all her previous 19 months in country. But she's tough.
We stopped on the way at a place called Campement Baobab to order pizza at a place about halfway there, so that it would be ready when we got back. It wasn't, natch, but still, we wouldn't have gotten any if we hadn't ordered on the way.
Then C ran over a snake. That was fun. It darted in front of her bike such that she ran right over its middle; fortunately, she had the wherewithal to lift her legs and NOT brake, so that it couldn't bite her (though it tried). C is tough too. I was next behind her, and my options were to stop and just miss it or run over it myself. I chose to stop, and fortunately the snake in its turn chose not to turn and bite me.
Speaking of my companions' formidability, when we got to the entrance of the falls, we found there were two different prices, those for foreigners and those for Burkinabe nationals. We did not pay the foreigner price. Which I really do think is fair, given that we live here, I just probably wouldn't have bothered trying to argue the point myself - our white skin makes it a hard sell. But they did it. There and everywhere else on the trip. They really are awesome.
The falls were beautiful. What else can I say? It's not schisto season, and you have to stay in the water 15 minutes to catch it, but all the same, we were careful. We did not have time to check out a nearby rock formation called the "Domes", but I can't complain really, the view we got was stunning enough. I got what I hope were really good pictures. Speaking of, I was very happy with my camera batteries this trip. All the same, I'm in the market for a film camera, since on my next vacations I won't be staying in posh places with current.
On our way back, we ate those pizzas I mentioned, and they were better than Ouaga pizzas. True to the name of the place, there was baobab fruit on the pizza. Very yummy. First time I'd tasted the fruit itself, though I'd had a drink made with the juice once, and sauce made from the leaves is common enough.
I mentioned we missed the Domes due to time constraints. We were actually running two hours late, but I'd made contact with a total faux type at the gare who found us transport after our taxi brousse had left. They do have their uses. Although now the guy STILL calls me every day. Ugh. I took one for the team there, but it was worth it as we were able to travel on to Sindou that evening.
Dec 30, Day 4: The Sindou Peaks
After a night at a basic but nice enough hotel, we biked out to hike the peaks of Sindou, where we learned that the peaks are part of the same rock formation as the cascades and domes in Banfora, and in fact the same rock formation as the cliff dwellings in Dogon Country in Mali. The ethnicity in Sindou are the Senoufou, who migrated from Dogon in the 1400s. They were told by their god that if they lived on a plateau in the peaks, and never descended, he would provide their food and protect them from their enemies. After colonization and the end of tribal warfare in the 1800s, they asked their god and he allowed them to descend, promising still to protect them from their enemies but to no longer provide food, as on the plains below they could cultivate for themselves. I plan on going back to explore more of Senoufou country, as they have a warrior sect known as "the Samurai of Burkina". There are ruins of houses on the plateau, but it turns out they're from a film shot there in the 80s. Still, once again, beautiful views.
After that, we biked out to a barrage we'd heard about, which we were told was beautiful - somewhat surprising for a barrage here. Its merits were not overstated. Though on the way we stopped at a small pond and decided that if it had been what we were told about someone would be getting hurt. It wasn't - it's just that the estimate of distance to the actual barrage was off...by about 70%. 6km, 10km, what's the difference? Quite a bit depending on how much water you brought with you. Still, totally worth it. Blue-green water in Burkina! Nice enough to swim in probably, though we didn't.
Ok, that's it for this update. I'll pick up later with New Year's in Bobo, nearly getting arrested, and riding a bus that is totally out of place in this country. I'll also cover what turned out to be the best part of the trip (outside of the company I kept), but I'm not giving you any hints.
10 December 2008
PICTURES
The stars have aligned, Lachesis has woven Clotho's brightly colored cords, the moon is in Aquarius, whatever, we finally have a long sought-for confluence of events: I am in a place with internet, and I have my camera! AND I'm reasonably sure that these computers aren't virus-laden...
So we start six months ago, in Charles de Gaulle, when I'm still looking at all of these people and thinking, "Well, these are my best friends for three months. Hope they don't suck." Turns out they don't.
Three of the guys, and one of the not-guys in the background. Ah the stories I could tell. Not really, we're a tame group.
But I'm not going to spend much time on these because it IS spending much time to upload. On y va, onto our arrival in Ouaga...
Tea and crumpets - well, glucose cookies - in the courtyard at SIL.
After a few days we moved to our slightly more permanent home of Ouahigouya. And we danced. Ugh.
If you hate dancing like I do, be the guy who takes pictures instead. It didn't work forever, though.
We met the chef of Ouahigouya, who was gracious enough to allow us to take pictures.
I don't remember his name, but like everywhere else in the world, always show respect to whomever is wearing the funniest hat.
What was living in Ouahigouya like? Step into my parlor.
Ah, water filter, you make my life less diarrhea-y. And mosquito net, you make my sleep less malaria-y.
But naturally the most interesting part of living with a host family is the family:
My host "aunt" Risnata, whom I called "Tantie Rit", a play on her name and the fact the she laughs a lot.
My kid brother, Faris. He's trouble. But lovable.
My host parents. These are good folks. I can't describe how lucky I was to get this family.
My host sister, Aida. She's smart as a whip; she won one of the prizes for highest marks in our model school, mentioned previously.
And now on to life AFTER training. Yes, current stagiares, it does exist. Your housemates change drastically, however...
It's already dead, I'm not that crazy. Though I left it overnight so I could get a picture of it during the day, and almost stepped on it as a result. So I'm not that sane, either.
Not pictured: my ex-roommate, Riley the cat. Sorry, Lisa, it just didn't work out. But she still hangs out on the porch a lot. Burkina cats are tough. Messed up in the head, maybe, but tough.
I tried to take some pics of the night sky, but they didn't come out. Since coming to site, I haven't used my camera much, for several reasons. And my pictures from Bani were taken on another camera; I don't have them with me. So we skip ahead to just last night, actually. My first taste of a mask festival! Ok, my second. My first was the night before, but it was dark, and it's hard to take pictures when you're constantly on the lookout for the masks to stop dancing and start hitting people. Fortunately, this second night they came out earlier AND we talked to the guy in charge of the masks, who told them not to hit us while we took pictures. I know this all seems bizarre, but that's the way it is with the masks. Once the person puts it on, he (or she? I don't know...) ceases to be that person. And the masks are feisty. How best to describe it? The people gather around closely to watch the masks, and they laugh when they run away when a mask tries to hit them, so they're not in fear for their lives or anything - but when they run, they run in earnest, so when the masks try to hit people, it's not JUST symbolic - they're looking to cause some bruises, at least. At least, that's my reading on it, and I'm not interested in taking a hit to find out whether I'm right.
Spinning!
Dancing!
Not hitting me!
And finally, at the request of my sister, a current picture of me. As of my last checkup, I weigh in at 72 kilos. I currently have hair, but look for that to change come the next hot season. I'll take it all off again. Well, the hair on top of my head I mean. The goatee stays. Not because I like goatees. I think they're silly-looking. But I'm hoping to pass the goatee stage and have myself a Fu Manchu by the close of my service. Even if that means I have to extend a year.
I don't like this picture, either. But be fair - I'm fresh off of a 40km bike ride. And I left my makeup at home.
That's it from me this time around. After posting this, I'll be visiting my post-office box. I'll have lots of letters, right? Right?!?
29 November 2008
Hooray for internet access!!
This time I have it because I'm visiting friends in Dori, even FARTHER north than my friend in Amsiya. Which means that mid-day here is still pretty darned hot, despite it being winter. In my site now the days are quite pleasant, and the nights are blanket-worthy.
Since my last post I've...hm, not done that much outside of teaching, honestly. It keeps me very busy. I'm afraid many of my students are frustrated with me right now, and the feeling is mutual. You see, by inclination and by training, my teaching style is oriented toward teaching students critical-thinking skills, not just rote memorization. And on paper that corresponds well with the Burkinabé approach. Unfortunately, in practice, the majority of education here is through memorization. Which has its place, I don't deny, but I try to do more than that. And the students aren't well-equipped to handle anything else. They just refuse to THINK about problems before responding! Right now I'm trying to teach them to start by making sure they're at least responding to the actual question being asked. Results are not encouraging...add to that the fact that I have 400 students (my earlier estimates of 300 were based on older roll sheets) and that French is not the first language for ANY of us, and the upshot is that the grades on my tests are not that great. Most recently I had trouble with my oldest class; some of the students told me basically that they didn't need the notes I was giving them. This despite having failed the last two tests. I walked out of class a half-hour early, fuming. But I now have a plan for Monday's class. I'm going to show up, take roll, and then not teach for the hour. I will give the students who DO feel they need my notes a real class that evening. That way we won't be bothered by the others. Can you tell I'm still mad?
On a much more positive note, I've had a couple of very good sessions with my 7th grade class. The Associate Peace Corps Director (APCD) for Secondary Education in Burkina Faso - in other words, my boss - came for a site visit. And happily the timing corresponded with my lessons in such a way that I was able to hold a PACA session - that's a tool used by Peace Corps to help the community discuss what their needs are (I've forgotten what it actually stands for). My boss was very happy to see it, and I in my turn was very happy with the results. I had the boys and girls split up and build typical daily calendars. I then used them to discuss the comparison of fractions and the need to convert them to the same denominator, in the process proving that the girls work a hell of a lot more each day than the girls. The guys were all shocked, despite how clear it was from the calendars (a typical comparison: 12h30 Girls - get water from well, heat, prepare lunch. Boys - sleep.) See above comment on critical thinking.
Anyway, I'm now in Dori celebrating a slightly belated Thanksgiving. And am I ever thankful to be here! I didn't realize how stressed I was until I was able to unwind with friends. The trip has been productive in more ways than mental-health, too. I got a great deal on a solar panel, which means I will soon have enough electricity chez moi for REAL lighting - I may even be able to run a fan off of it! I had resigned myself to not having one because I felt the expense wasn't worth it, but fortunately one of my friends has one he doesn't use, so he sold it to me at a good price. I am VERY excited. I'll also be making divinity tonight, as we have access to eggs here. I hope it turns out ok...I don't even love the stuff myself (though I don't hate it), but in the spirit of cultural exchange I'm sharing this Southern ubiquity with friends from more northern latitudes. I also now have New Year's plans to visit a part of the country I haven't before with two extremely cool (and incidentally beautiful) volunteers. They're both GEEs, and I love talking with the people from other sectors because it's fascinating how different their experiences are. I also love visiting other volunteers and seeing first-hand some of the differences between our sites. Which brings me to Dori itself.
Dori is a small city, truly in the Sahel: off of the one paved road, everything is sand. Large enough to have amenities such as internet and refrigeration, it is still small enough not to be overwhelming in the way Ouagadougou or even much smaller Ouahigouya can be. So far, of all the places I've been here (which in all honesty is not yet that large a number), Dori most closely matches the hazy vision I had in my head of what life in West Africa would be like before I got here. The market, on Fridays, made me think of Raiders of the Lost Ark - some outdoors, some indoors in large stone structures built for the purpose (MUCH cooler than the cement brick and tin or wood and straw-thatch of the markets of larger or smaller places, respectively - and I meant the word "cooler" to refer to temperature, but it also works in the figurative usage). Fresh veggies and brilliantly-dyed cloths catch the eye, and the vendors are mostly friendly without being pushy (a rarity!). The stalls and aisles are PACKED with people. The people here are mostly Puehls (as in the village of Amsiya described in my last post), which means, as then, that when people aren't speaking French I have small chance of understanding. On the plus side, this means that when I do come across a Moabga (the singular of Mossi), my Mooré is even more appreciated.
Need to work on that Mooré! And my French, though my boss said he was very impressed with my improvement in that arena. Nice to hear, as it is naturally hard for me to judge my own progress day-to-day. But when? School is all-consuming. But the trimester is over soon, and with my travel plans for New Year's as they are, I will probably spend the first part of Christmas break doing those things I've been wanting to do since moving in - study language, get my compost really cooking, and plant a garden. Personal projects, rather than Peace Corps projects for this break. Because come summer I've got plenty of secondary projects in the wings ready to go. More on that when the time for them draws near.
Short version: School is hard, but I'm coping. Fellow volunteers are always fun to hang out with. I like visiting new places.
As I often do, I will close by exhorting you to call, text, email, or mail me. I have really nifty cards to send in response to letters! Sally and Carson have earned theirs (though I still lack your address, Sally). Who else? Supplies are limited! No they're not, I can get more. WRITE ME!
Since my last post I've...hm, not done that much outside of teaching, honestly. It keeps me very busy. I'm afraid many of my students are frustrated with me right now, and the feeling is mutual. You see, by inclination and by training, my teaching style is oriented toward teaching students critical-thinking skills, not just rote memorization. And on paper that corresponds well with the Burkinabé approach. Unfortunately, in practice, the majority of education here is through memorization. Which has its place, I don't deny, but I try to do more than that. And the students aren't well-equipped to handle anything else. They just refuse to THINK about problems before responding! Right now I'm trying to teach them to start by making sure they're at least responding to the actual question being asked. Results are not encouraging...add to that the fact that I have 400 students (my earlier estimates of 300 were based on older roll sheets) and that French is not the first language for ANY of us, and the upshot is that the grades on my tests are not that great. Most recently I had trouble with my oldest class; some of the students told me basically that they didn't need the notes I was giving them. This despite having failed the last two tests. I walked out of class a half-hour early, fuming. But I now have a plan for Monday's class. I'm going to show up, take roll, and then not teach for the hour. I will give the students who DO feel they need my notes a real class that evening. That way we won't be bothered by the others. Can you tell I'm still mad?
On a much more positive note, I've had a couple of very good sessions with my 7th grade class. The Associate Peace Corps Director (APCD) for Secondary Education in Burkina Faso - in other words, my boss - came for a site visit. And happily the timing corresponded with my lessons in such a way that I was able to hold a PACA session - that's a tool used by Peace Corps to help the community discuss what their needs are (I've forgotten what it actually stands for). My boss was very happy to see it, and I in my turn was very happy with the results. I had the boys and girls split up and build typical daily calendars. I then used them to discuss the comparison of fractions and the need to convert them to the same denominator, in the process proving that the girls work a hell of a lot more each day than the girls. The guys were all shocked, despite how clear it was from the calendars (a typical comparison: 12h30 Girls - get water from well, heat, prepare lunch. Boys - sleep.) See above comment on critical thinking.
Anyway, I'm now in Dori celebrating a slightly belated Thanksgiving. And am I ever thankful to be here! I didn't realize how stressed I was until I was able to unwind with friends. The trip has been productive in more ways than mental-health, too. I got a great deal on a solar panel, which means I will soon have enough electricity chez moi for REAL lighting - I may even be able to run a fan off of it! I had resigned myself to not having one because I felt the expense wasn't worth it, but fortunately one of my friends has one he doesn't use, so he sold it to me at a good price. I am VERY excited. I'll also be making divinity tonight, as we have access to eggs here. I hope it turns out ok...I don't even love the stuff myself (though I don't hate it), but in the spirit of cultural exchange I'm sharing this Southern ubiquity with friends from more northern latitudes. I also now have New Year's plans to visit a part of the country I haven't before with two extremely cool (and incidentally beautiful) volunteers. They're both GEEs, and I love talking with the people from other sectors because it's fascinating how different their experiences are. I also love visiting other volunteers and seeing first-hand some of the differences between our sites. Which brings me to Dori itself.
Dori is a small city, truly in the Sahel: off of the one paved road, everything is sand. Large enough to have amenities such as internet and refrigeration, it is still small enough not to be overwhelming in the way Ouagadougou or even much smaller Ouahigouya can be. So far, of all the places I've been here (which in all honesty is not yet that large a number), Dori most closely matches the hazy vision I had in my head of what life in West Africa would be like before I got here. The market, on Fridays, made me think of Raiders of the Lost Ark - some outdoors, some indoors in large stone structures built for the purpose (MUCH cooler than the cement brick and tin or wood and straw-thatch of the markets of larger or smaller places, respectively - and I meant the word "cooler" to refer to temperature, but it also works in the figurative usage). Fresh veggies and brilliantly-dyed cloths catch the eye, and the vendors are mostly friendly without being pushy (a rarity!). The stalls and aisles are PACKED with people. The people here are mostly Puehls (as in the village of Amsiya described in my last post), which means, as then, that when people aren't speaking French I have small chance of understanding. On the plus side, this means that when I do come across a Moabga (the singular of Mossi), my Mooré is even more appreciated.
Need to work on that Mooré! And my French, though my boss said he was very impressed with my improvement in that arena. Nice to hear, as it is naturally hard for me to judge my own progress day-to-day. But when? School is all-consuming. But the trimester is over soon, and with my travel plans for New Year's as they are, I will probably spend the first part of Christmas break doing those things I've been wanting to do since moving in - study language, get my compost really cooking, and plant a garden. Personal projects, rather than Peace Corps projects for this break. Because come summer I've got plenty of secondary projects in the wings ready to go. More on that when the time for them draws near.
Short version: School is hard, but I'm coping. Fellow volunteers are always fun to hang out with. I like visiting new places.
As I often do, I will close by exhorting you to call, text, email, or mail me. I have really nifty cards to send in response to letters! Sally and Carson have earned theirs (though I still lack your address, Sally). Who else? Supplies are limited! No they're not, I can get more. WRITE ME!
31 October 2008
Hopefully a long post - I certainly have a lot to say
But my connection is slow, as is my typing on an american (and very small) keyboard, so we'll see.
Church
I went to the Catholic church because my best village friend is Catholic. He showed me in to a seat - then went back outside to chat with other people while I sat through an hour of service. In Moore, natch. At the end they announced something, and some people left while others stayed (my friend was still outside), and I wasn't sure what was going on. One of my students who was there saw my confusion and explained. The hour I'd just sat through was the PRE service...now we were waiting for expected visitors. A half hour later the service resumed, or rather, started. Three hours later it began winding down. Someone, possibly the priest, switched to French long enough to thank the nasara who visited and stayed through the long service that he clearly didn't understand.
Next time I'm trying the Protestant church.
Bani
I recently visited a friend in her shockingly small village of cattle-herding Peuhls (aka Fulani). My site is nearly in the Sahel. My friend's site is unquestionably in the Sahel. The view over her courtyard wall is an incredibly uninterrupted view to the horizon - no vegetation, no hills, just red dirt and rock baking in the sun. Beautiful. To the north distant hills are visible. Well, they seem distant in the dust haze.* In fact, they're not far. I know that because we biked from her site to nearby Bani, where the hills are. The point of interest? An imam in the 70s founded his very own sect of Islam. He had built a huge mud-brick mosque in the center of the town (it's just large enough to deserve that appelation, rather than village, I think). It has figures carved in of the traditional kneeling postures of Islamic prayer. It's awesome, and beautiful outside and in. We went in, shoeless by Islamic tradition and flocked by children by nasara tradition, and walked through the banded dark amongst large pillars. On arriving at the back, we climbed a shockingly steep, completely unlit, and partially crumbling stairway to the roof. The view of the city is really worth the climb, even the climb back down, which is even scarier. The roof is rock and sand, and very hot as you might imagine. I didn't walk around much (we were shoeless, remember?), but the kids did. My friend did too - she definitely earned hardcore points for that.
Afterwards, we climbed the surrounding hills, which very strongly reminded me of climbing out on the rocks in Monterey to get better pictures of the surf. The kids did this barefoot too. We weren't just climbing to climb - I haven't told you the most interesting part of this imam's wishes. Aside from the grand mosque, he had 7 other mosques built in the surrounding hills, and possibly uniquely in all the Islamic world, they do NOT face toward Mecca - instead, they face toward the central mosque. Also he apparently wasn't a big fan of upkeep - two have crumbled completely, and none are usable.
I forgot my camera on that trip, which I'm sure my friend got tired of hearing me bitch about. She did let me use her camera, AND I will be going back - there's talk of a camel ride fr0m Bani to a gold mine and maybe even sand dunes.
*You know those pictures in National Geographic of Africa where the sun is a beautiful orange ball low in the sky? Yeah, it's not clouds causing all that beautiful refraction. It's dust. Beautiful at a distance - the sunrises and sunsets here are pretty much ALWAYS spectacular. But the dust is playing merry hell with my sinuses, now that the rain is gone. Hello, 9 months of head cold. Actually, hello 9 months of Claritin and dust masks.
Cell phones
The BBC recently reported on how Japanese cell phone companies have a hard time selling to the world market because they add too many functions to their phones, and most people prefer to have phones just to make phone calls. They should consider the Burkinabe market. People here don't carry radios, they just play music on their cell phones. And I've seen a huge number of cell phones with LEDs flashing red, blue, and who knows what else. I bet they'd buy those Japanese phones. Although in all reality they wouldn't be able to afford it.
DST
Daylight savings time my friends! You do it, we don't. So however far our time difference has been up to now, add an hour. One immediate result is that instead of staying up late to listen to election results, I'll get up early.
SIAO
Went today. Thought to bring my camera to Ouaga - then didn't think to bring it to SIAO. But honestly, it wouldn't have done much for me. Some of the wares were interesting, but the format looked like that of a consignment shop or flea market. And a good number of the merchandise would believably exist in those places, as well, or the African store in the mall. I did make what I think were some good finds:
Dogon door - the dogons live in Mali, in an area so well-defined ethnically that it is called the Country Dogon. I *think* they have a mask tradition like so many ethnicities in this area, but they also have traditional doors, which I've not seen from any other ethnicities. The carvings on it represent the male and female ancestors, the male and female principle more generally, and their descendants. The doors are always kept closed - their purpose is to bar the entry of evil spirits. I bought a small one. Since I won't ship it due to both expense and worries of durability, I'll go ahead and say now that this one is for you, Mom and Dad. You'd better like it.
Tuareg lock - a small but expensive purchase, this one for me. I was suckered in because I love puzzles. It's not truly a puzzle, but it's not far from being one. There are three keys, the first opening a panel to allow access for the second, likewise the second for the third, and the third allows the lock to pull apart.
Mask bottle openers - I got three. These were small, and not inexpensive, but not on the same order as the other purchases. One for me, one for my brother, and one for Christoff, the shopkeeper/bartender who has really helped me settle in and begin integration.
Reading list
Yes, life is busy. But all the same, you need downtime, and I've always been a voracious reader. Here's a list of the books I've read since June, and note that only the first two were during training and ALL THE REST have been at site.
Don Quixote; the Kiterunner; Middlesex; the Dark Romance of Dian Fossey; Her Majesty's Wizard (my guilty pleasure, a not-so-well written fantasy novel that I love both for being the first fantasy novel I ever read AND for leading me to Spanish Trail Books for the first time, looking for a copy. I've read it three times since getting here); the Handmaid's Tale; Holder of the World; One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest; Obsessive Genius: the Inner World of Marie Curie; Alias Grace; the God Delusion; Wilderness 911; Card Games for One (I've played all of them for both one deck and two, some 150 games in all); the Art of Travel; Lucky.
Wish list addition
I didn't bring a CD player because of the dust. But it occurs to me that small capacity SD cards are dirt cheap these days. And I just happen to have an mp3 player that takes SD. So if you would like to send me music, just load some on that little $7 card and send it on over in a regular envelope.
Church
I went to the Catholic church because my best village friend is Catholic. He showed me in to a seat - then went back outside to chat with other people while I sat through an hour of service. In Moore, natch. At the end they announced something, and some people left while others stayed (my friend was still outside), and I wasn't sure what was going on. One of my students who was there saw my confusion and explained. The hour I'd just sat through was the PRE service...now we were waiting for expected visitors. A half hour later the service resumed, or rather, started. Three hours later it began winding down. Someone, possibly the priest, switched to French long enough to thank the nasara who visited and stayed through the long service that he clearly didn't understand.
Next time I'm trying the Protestant church.
Bani
I recently visited a friend in her shockingly small village of cattle-herding Peuhls (aka Fulani). My site is nearly in the Sahel. My friend's site is unquestionably in the Sahel. The view over her courtyard wall is an incredibly uninterrupted view to the horizon - no vegetation, no hills, just red dirt and rock baking in the sun. Beautiful. To the north distant hills are visible. Well, they seem distant in the dust haze.* In fact, they're not far. I know that because we biked from her site to nearby Bani, where the hills are. The point of interest? An imam in the 70s founded his very own sect of Islam. He had built a huge mud-brick mosque in the center of the town (it's just large enough to deserve that appelation, rather than village, I think). It has figures carved in of the traditional kneeling postures of Islamic prayer. It's awesome, and beautiful outside and in. We went in, shoeless by Islamic tradition and flocked by children by nasara tradition, and walked through the banded dark amongst large pillars. On arriving at the back, we climbed a shockingly steep, completely unlit, and partially crumbling stairway to the roof. The view of the city is really worth the climb, even the climb back down, which is even scarier. The roof is rock and sand, and very hot as you might imagine. I didn't walk around much (we were shoeless, remember?), but the kids did. My friend did too - she definitely earned hardcore points for that.
Afterwards, we climbed the surrounding hills, which very strongly reminded me of climbing out on the rocks in Monterey to get better pictures of the surf. The kids did this barefoot too. We weren't just climbing to climb - I haven't told you the most interesting part of this imam's wishes. Aside from the grand mosque, he had 7 other mosques built in the surrounding hills, and possibly uniquely in all the Islamic world, they do NOT face toward Mecca - instead, they face toward the central mosque. Also he apparently wasn't a big fan of upkeep - two have crumbled completely, and none are usable.
I forgot my camera on that trip, which I'm sure my friend got tired of hearing me bitch about. She did let me use her camera, AND I will be going back - there's talk of a camel ride fr0m Bani to a gold mine and maybe even sand dunes.
*You know those pictures in National Geographic of Africa where the sun is a beautiful orange ball low in the sky? Yeah, it's not clouds causing all that beautiful refraction. It's dust. Beautiful at a distance - the sunrises and sunsets here are pretty much ALWAYS spectacular. But the dust is playing merry hell with my sinuses, now that the rain is gone. Hello, 9 months of head cold. Actually, hello 9 months of Claritin and dust masks.
Cell phones
The BBC recently reported on how Japanese cell phone companies have a hard time selling to the world market because they add too many functions to their phones, and most people prefer to have phones just to make phone calls. They should consider the Burkinabe market. People here don't carry radios, they just play music on their cell phones. And I've seen a huge number of cell phones with LEDs flashing red, blue, and who knows what else. I bet they'd buy those Japanese phones. Although in all reality they wouldn't be able to afford it.
DST
Daylight savings time my friends! You do it, we don't. So however far our time difference has been up to now, add an hour. One immediate result is that instead of staying up late to listen to election results, I'll get up early.
SIAO
Went today. Thought to bring my camera to Ouaga - then didn't think to bring it to SIAO. But honestly, it wouldn't have done much for me. Some of the wares were interesting, but the format looked like that of a consignment shop or flea market. And a good number of the merchandise would believably exist in those places, as well, or the African store in the mall. I did make what I think were some good finds:
Dogon door - the dogons live in Mali, in an area so well-defined ethnically that it is called the Country Dogon. I *think* they have a mask tradition like so many ethnicities in this area, but they also have traditional doors, which I've not seen from any other ethnicities. The carvings on it represent the male and female ancestors, the male and female principle more generally, and their descendants. The doors are always kept closed - their purpose is to bar the entry of evil spirits. I bought a small one. Since I won't ship it due to both expense and worries of durability, I'll go ahead and say now that this one is for you, Mom and Dad. You'd better like it.
Tuareg lock - a small but expensive purchase, this one for me. I was suckered in because I love puzzles. It's not truly a puzzle, but it's not far from being one. There are three keys, the first opening a panel to allow access for the second, likewise the second for the third, and the third allows the lock to pull apart.
Mask bottle openers - I got three. These were small, and not inexpensive, but not on the same order as the other purchases. One for me, one for my brother, and one for Christoff, the shopkeeper/bartender who has really helped me settle in and begin integration.
Reading list
Yes, life is busy. But all the same, you need downtime, and I've always been a voracious reader. Here's a list of the books I've read since June, and note that only the first two were during training and ALL THE REST have been at site.
Don Quixote; the Kiterunner; Middlesex; the Dark Romance of Dian Fossey; Her Majesty's Wizard (my guilty pleasure, a not-so-well written fantasy novel that I love both for being the first fantasy novel I ever read AND for leading me to Spanish Trail Books for the first time, looking for a copy. I've read it three times since getting here); the Handmaid's Tale; Holder of the World; One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest; Obsessive Genius: the Inner World of Marie Curie; Alias Grace; the God Delusion; Wilderness 911; Card Games for One (I've played all of them for both one deck and two, some 150 games in all); the Art of Travel; Lucky.
Wish list addition
I didn't bring a CD player because of the dust. But it occurs to me that small capacity SD cards are dirt cheap these days. And I just happen to have an mp3 player that takes SD. So if you would like to send me music, just load some on that little $7 card and send it on over in a regular envelope.
04 October 2008
Village Recipe
Peel and cut five of the smallest onions you've ever seen - cripes lady, would it kill you to leave them in the ground a week longer before bringing them to marché? Peel and dice some garlic, because you don't want to have to clean out the garlic press later (note: not worth it. The press is a pain to clean, but it still beats dicing the garlic). Peel and dice a whole ginger root (even though you know it's too much, because how can you store the leftover?) that you bought purely because you knew how to ask for it in mooré (note: Dicing again, bah. garlic press + ginger? hmmm...) Sauté in oil a few minutes, then add brown sugar to candy because you saw someone else do it recently, and when you don't know what you're doing, copy others (according to a landlord I once had who had worked with Lise Meitner, that's what Einstein did). After candying, add leftover of a small tin of tomato paste, because if you don't use it today, you don't want to at all. In fact, it already smells a little weird...oh well, throw it in. Add water, and boil, because you definitely want to kill whatever that was you smelled. Taste. Way too sweet, though yummy. Add red wine vinegar. Taste. Still sweet, add regular vinegar because God only knows when you might be able to buy red wine vinegar again (red wine + regular vinegar? hmmm...) Taste. STILL sweet. Screw it, you tried not to use salt because you already eat so freakin' much, oh well, add salt. Ah ha! Yummy. Cook rice. Flail at flies who are currently in love with your lantern. Pick up crank handle that fell off due to flailing. Crank. Check rice. Taste sauce again. Add pepper. Add sauce to rice, and eat. And feel vindicated - you were right, it was too much ginger.
But it was yummy all the same.
Site is good. My teaching schedule was changed this week. We had so many students sign up that we split the sixième class (roughly sixth grade) into 2 sections, which means I have to teach 20 hours, not 15. If you think that sounds like a light schedule, please remember that my French is still only so-so. 15 is recommended for 1st year volunteers. Anyway, I won't be teaching Physics & Chemistry, just math. So, I have two classes of sixième (sixth-grade) math, one of cinquième (7th grade) math, and one of quatrième (8th grade) math. Class sizes are 102 and 100, 97, 63, respectively.
Before I left, I put out a general call for addresses for people who want to receive mail from me here. Well, bad news - I can't find my list! But that's ok, I have a solution. YOU mail ME first (and in case it's not clear, include your return address on the envelope!), and if you do I promise you at least one written response while I'm here*. You can find my address here. To give you an idea on the Boulsa address, today is 4 Oct and I had a letter from 22 Sept in the box. Not bad! Of course, it may have gotten here even sooner, you also have to take into account that I only come here about once a month.
*Hi Sally. Yes, you've already sent me something. But I cleverly threw away the envelope before writing down your address. If you email me your address then you'll get the response you're owed.
A big thank you to PLAN for sponsoring my internet time this week!
But it was yummy all the same.
Site is good. My teaching schedule was changed this week. We had so many students sign up that we split the sixième class (roughly sixth grade) into 2 sections, which means I have to teach 20 hours, not 15. If you think that sounds like a light schedule, please remember that my French is still only so-so. 15 is recommended for 1st year volunteers. Anyway, I won't be teaching Physics & Chemistry, just math. So, I have two classes of sixième (sixth-grade) math, one of cinquième (7th grade) math, and one of quatrième (8th grade) math. Class sizes are 102 and 100, 97, 63, respectively.
Before I left, I put out a general call for addresses for people who want to receive mail from me here. Well, bad news - I can't find my list! But that's ok, I have a solution. YOU mail ME first (and in case it's not clear, include your return address on the envelope!), and if you do I promise you at least one written response while I'm here*. You can find my address here. To give you an idea on the Boulsa address, today is 4 Oct and I had a letter from 22 Sept in the box. Not bad! Of course, it may have gotten here even sooner, you also have to take into account that I only come here about once a month.
*Hi Sally. Yes, you've already sent me something. But I cleverly threw away the envelope before writing down your address. If you email me your address then you'll get the response you're owed.
A big thank you to PLAN for sponsoring my internet time this week!
15 September 2008
Quick update
I'm in a hurry today, but just so everyone knows I was successfully installed in my site, and I've survived the first couple of weeks. Although really it was the first couple of days that were really hard, after that it's been easier. I've begun planting some moringa trees in my courtyard, and I know what classes I'll be teaching now (two maths and a physics/chemistry, all at the middle school level since that's all my site has), but I do not yet have a schedule.
I also already have a secondary project of organizing a room full of hundreds of books into a lending library. Step 1: Get bookshelves!
Hopefully next time I'll be able to post more!
I also already have a secondary project of organizing a room full of hundreds of books into a lending library. Step 1: Get bookshelves!
Hopefully next time I'll be able to post more!
14 August 2008
Winding down
Model school will be over soon. Next week is all review, tests, and reclamations, so I'm pretty much done teaching class until I go to site.
Not much to report otherwise. I'm on the hunt for good gifts to give my host family that reflect how truly awesome they've been. Oh, and speaking of that DOES remind me of something worth recounting...
A couple years ago, my host dad set up an organization that gives sensibilisations on things like HIV/AIDS, female circumcision, and autres choses comme çà (other things like that - this is one of the more common franglais-ed phrases among volunteers, so I thought I'd use it). So we set up a chance for stagiares to have a sensibilisation on excision (that's what female circumcision is called here). It went really well, we learned a lot, and the GEE stagiares in particular were happy about it, I think, because apparently they'd expected to have more on that topic in their training than they'd actually received. My host dad gave a really great talk, which included some rather disturbing models. I was very proud to be a part of their family that day.
A couple more additions to my wishlist - my safety razor (natch, that one is for mom and dad), and books on how to sail and how to maintain sailboats. While I can't practice sailing here, I can at least get the book-learning done: How to read charts, what to look for when buying a boat, etc. I don't need books in general, because there's a great reading library for volunteers. But for this specific topic, I could use your help.
Not much to report otherwise. I'm on the hunt for good gifts to give my host family that reflect how truly awesome they've been. Oh, and speaking of that DOES remind me of something worth recounting...
A couple years ago, my host dad set up an organization that gives sensibilisations on things like HIV/AIDS, female circumcision, and autres choses comme çà (other things like that - this is one of the more common franglais-ed phrases among volunteers, so I thought I'd use it). So we set up a chance for stagiares to have a sensibilisation on excision (that's what female circumcision is called here). It went really well, we learned a lot, and the GEE stagiares in particular were happy about it, I think, because apparently they'd expected to have more on that topic in their training than they'd actually received. My host dad gave a really great talk, which included some rather disturbing models. I was very proud to be a part of their family that day.
A couple more additions to my wishlist - my safety razor (natch, that one is for mom and dad), and books on how to sail and how to maintain sailboats. While I can't practice sailing here, I can at least get the book-learning done: How to read charts, what to look for when buying a boat, etc. I don't need books in general, because there's a great reading library for volunteers. But for this specific topic, I could use your help.
07 August 2008
New shout out
So I don't have very much new to say, other than that teaching in French gets a little easier each day. Oh, here's a story from model school:
Preparing lessons in French takes FOREVER. There are constantly new words in the book I need to look up, plus I want to try to re-word everything, PLUS I need to try to be aware of any new words my students might throw at me. At least, that was my outlook the first few days of model school. But after spending 5 hours to prepare the first 2 hours worth of lessons (lessons that in English I could have taught if someone had handed me the book as I walked into the classroom), I kind of relaxed my standards for myself. Which leads us to what happened two days ago, when I was talking about evaporation and I wanted to say that over time water disappears. But I completely forgot the word. Now, every other day, I've kept my dictionary with me, though I've never used it - if you once let the students here realize you're fallible, discipline immediately becomes a problem. So that day, I let the PCVF who was observing my class use it. So naturally that was the day I needed it. So I had to go to the back of the class where she was sitting to look up "disappear" (it's "disparaître," by the way) as my students looked on. So I told them that I was sorry, I know the science, not the French, but if they'd like I could easily teach the lesson in English. That got a chuckle, so I was able to play it off, but it was pretty stressful all the same. Some of my students, by the way, said they WOULD like me to teach in English, but I don't know if that's a comment on the interest in English or their disinterest in Physics/Chemistry.
But that story is not why I'm posting today. I'm posting today to recognize my awesome friend Sally who sent me a package full of goodies! I got it Sally! On the downside, that means you don't get to lie about what was in it, but on the upside I can't imagine why you would - it's great! I am now officially a fan of Propel Fitness water.
It took a month, but it made my day!
Preparing lessons in French takes FOREVER. There are constantly new words in the book I need to look up, plus I want to try to re-word everything, PLUS I need to try to be aware of any new words my students might throw at me. At least, that was my outlook the first few days of model school. But after spending 5 hours to prepare the first 2 hours worth of lessons (lessons that in English I could have taught if someone had handed me the book as I walked into the classroom), I kind of relaxed my standards for myself. Which leads us to what happened two days ago, when I was talking about evaporation and I wanted to say that over time water disappears. But I completely forgot the word. Now, every other day, I've kept my dictionary with me, though I've never used it - if you once let the students here realize you're fallible, discipline immediately becomes a problem. So that day, I let the PCVF who was observing my class use it. So naturally that was the day I needed it. So I had to go to the back of the class where she was sitting to look up "disappear" (it's "disparaître," by the way) as my students looked on. So I told them that I was sorry, I know the science, not the French, but if they'd like I could easily teach the lesson in English. That got a chuckle, so I was able to play it off, but it was pretty stressful all the same. Some of my students, by the way, said they WOULD like me to teach in English, but I don't know if that's a comment on the interest in English or their disinterest in Physics/Chemistry.
But that story is not why I'm posting today. I'm posting today to recognize my awesome friend Sally who sent me a package full of goodies! I got it Sally! On the downside, that means you don't get to lie about what was in it, but on the upside I can't imagine why you would - it's great! I am now officially a fan of Propel Fitness water.
It took a month, but it made my day!
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