Fun in Ouaga!

July 25, 2011

After a week of “vacationing” in several different locations, including Burkina’s capital of Ouaga, our future village site, and our future regional capital, we’re back in our training village of Sapone, slowly readjusting ourselves back into a schedule that’s packed full of language classes and technical training sessions.  Our week away from Sapone was much needed and thoroughly enjoyed by everyone.  Here’s what went down:

**July 17-20: Fun in Ouagadougou!

**July 20-22: Visit to My Village!

**July 22-24: Exploring Tougan – My Regional Capital!

Because each topic is extremely broad and each took place in an entirely different city/village in Burkina Faso, and also because there were so many unique things that happened to me each day, I’ve decided to write about each topic in a separate post.  I’ll start with my time in Ouaga...

**July 17-20: Fun in Ouagadougou!

We education volunteers ventured away from our DABA friends for the week, leaving Sunday morning for Ouaga.  I got up early that Sunday morning, since I still had to pack, desperately needed to take a thorough bucket bath that included washing my hair, and also had to take down my laundry that was still hanging on the line from the day before.  Turns out that at 6am, my laundry was more wet/damp than it was before I went bed.  Dang.  So much for packing “clean” clothes.  I threw a couple of damp skirts, wet shirts, and my saturated jeans into a plastic bag, shoved it into my backpack, and hoped that I would remember to take the wet clothes out and hang them up to finish drying immediately upon arriving at our hotel in Ouaga.  And of course, it was while I scurried around, attempting to pack for the week, that my host family decided that they wanted to take a picture of me.  My host dad pulled out his cell phone and proceeded to demand that I pose for a picture, so he could send it to his family and they could all see what “his American” looked like.  Lovely.  There I was, with messy bed-head hair, wearing my glasses and pajamas (athletic shorts and a t-shirt), sweating profusely because it’s hot, even though it’s barely past 6am, and my family wants a picture.  Really?  Now?  Why not in an hour, when I actually have clothes on? (Here in Burkina, women are rarely seen in pants, and they certainly don’t wear shorts, especially shorts that go above their knees…and my shorts definitely exposed my knees…and then some.)  But I couldn’t convince them to wait.  I forced a smile, posed awkwardly in front of the latrine that I happened to be coming from when this chaos occurred, and let them snap their picture.  “Jolie!  Tres jolie!”  they exclaimed, and then showed me my photo on the cell phone screen.  Liars.  I was not pretty.  Not pretty at all.  And I most certainly was not dressed in “culturally appropriate” attire.  It was a hideous picture, and I’m embarrassed their family, friends, and who knows who else saw me in this ugly state.  Way to represent America, Beth!   

Once I got away from my family’s picture taking, finished packing, and went through the never-ending series of goodbye’s with each family member, I strapped my huge hiking backpack to my back and attempted to get on my bike…which turned out to be more awkward than I expected, due to the heavy bag on my back throwing off my balance…  By this time, I was of course running late, and so I pedaled as fast as I could to the FDC (our training center).  I arrived just in time to load up.  Eight people crammed into the back of a truck and the rest of us piled into the Peace Corps minivan bus vehicle contraption of a thing that somehow manages to hold 28 people and a driver...and all of our bikes (strapped to the top of the van)….and all of our overstuffed bags (as long as they’re piled on our laps).  Consequently, the hour ride to Ouaga wasn’t the most comfortable, although the vehicles were equipped with air conditioning, so that helped a little bit.

But it was all worth it once we arrived in Ouaga.  We had a first class hotel -- well okay, by American standards the hotel would’ve mayyyybe been given 3 out of 5 stars -- and all of us appreciated having the many luxuries offered by the hotel:

*air-conditioned rooms AND ceiling fans (We turned both on to full blast…just because we could.)

*real toilets….rather than just a hole in the ground (As I recall, upon arriving at the hotel, one my friends said, “I’m gonna go sit on the toilet for a while. Not because I have to go, but just because I want to relax and enjoy sitting on a porcelain throne.  I’ll probably stay there for 10 or 15 minutes.  Maybe more.”)

*mirrors to gaze into and look at our pretty (or so not pretty) faces… for many of us, it was the first time we had actually seen ourselves in weeks….and most of us decided it’d probably be best to never look into a mirror again, at least while in Africa…

*running water, sinks, hot showers (Many of us showered and thoroughly washed our hair several times a day…just because we could – yes, we probably wasted a bunch of water, but it felt so good to be clean!  However, through this process, we also realized how dirty we really were…it turns out our skin didn’t have a good tan after all…it was just covered in multiple layers of dust…)

*delicious food: good, non-stale bread for breakfast, along with real butter and jelly to put on it!  Sugar-coated peanuts and chocolate filled croissants for our mid-morning “pause café.” And large chunks of seasoned meat (almost the equivalent of an American steak!) that could be consumed without biting into bones or fat. Mhmm.  The nearby restaurants also were a treat to dine at, and we indulged in ordering French fries, cheeseburgers, ice cream, and more.

*Wi-Fi!!!!  It wasn’t unusual to see at least a dozen Americans sprawled throughout the hotel lobby, busy on their computers and smart phones into the wee hours of the night (or morning), surfing the Internet, checking emails, uploading pictures, posting blogs, Skyping with family and friends, etc.  I enjoyed some great Skype conversations with family and friends, and found it amusing that my dad thought he could sit in front of the webcam without a shirt on…thus anyone and everyone who looked at my computer screen could see a large, hairy man with a severe farmer’s tan… which probably doesn’t give the African locals a very good impression of what “Americans” look like… so I made him go put a shirt on before I would talk to him, haha. 

Being in Ouaga, we also had the opportunity to explore some of the shops and stores available for our shopping pleasures, including Marina Market, which is basically a grocery store that caters towards Americans (or other foreigners).  We discovered that, for a hefty price, we can indeed buy otherwise impossible to find items in Burkina Faso, like chocolate candy bars, real deli cheese, Pringles chips, pickles, Hershey’s chocolate syrup, Diet Coke, air fresheners, non-stick frying pans, mini fridges, and toilet paper.  We haven’t been in Africa for that long, and yet, we were all in shock at how many things there were on the shelves and ended up spending the first 20 or 30 minutes just wandering around looking at everything.  The huge selection of products was overwhelming, and we were excited to be reminded of the many types of foods that –somehow – we forgot existed: “Look!  Ice cream!  And there’s a box of Lucky Charms! I used to love eating cereal with real milk… Man, how I used to love cold milk.  Powdered milk just doesn’t cut it.”   Everything is rather expensive (for example, a pint of ice cream cost 10,000 CFA or about $20 American), so most of us limited ourselves to a few select items, and took comfort in just knowing that these things existed and could be purchased if need be (like if we’re having a severe case of homesickness and just really need some ice cream to soothe ourselves)…provided we’re in Ouaga, of course.  So what did I splurge on?  Dark chocolate, strawberry yogurt, Gouda & Herb cheese from the deli, crackers, and a box of red wine.  Yes, a box.  It was cheaper, plus I didn’t have to deal with trying to find a bottle opener or corkscrew…   After cramming 14 people into two small taxis and bargaining for a decent price (200 CFA per person aka $0.50 American), we were transported back to our “ritzy” hotel and our “Wine and Cheese Party” commenced.  Needless to say, everyone was pretty happy that night.

Another very interesting (and unique) thing I experienced in Ouaga was having my banana stolen.  It was evening and I wasn’t very hungry since I had indulged in a yummy cheeseburger for lunch.  Actually, that’s a lie.  The restaurant we went to ran out of burgers -- too many Peace Corps trainees beat us to the restaurant and had already ordered/eaten all the burgers the restaurant had in its supply.  But it was okay: two of my friends and I split one cheeseburger so we could all have a little “taste” of America.   Anyways, I wasn’t super hungry and was only in the mood for fruit that evening, so I went with a friend to a nearby produce stand, where a lady was selling mangoes and bananas.  I bought my banana, being quite pleased with myself, having spoken clearly in French and actually understanding most everything that the fruit lady said to me.  But my friend, who was going to buy a sandwich from a vendor down the street, is a “Chatty Cathy” and likes to strike up conversations with anyone and everyone.  And since she has more French skills than me, she can actually do that with moderate success.  A man walked by, greeted us with a typical “Bonsoir! Ca va?” and before I knew it, we were having a conversation with this stranger.  No big deal.   We do that all the time.  Like every day, in fact.  Because everyone can tell we’re not locals of Burkina.  Hmm. I wonder how they know.  Could it be the fact that I have white skin?  And speak English?  Thus, they wonder who we are and what the heck we’re doing here, since there’s pretty much a 0% chance that we’re tourists.  (Most “foreigners” in Burkina are doing some kind of development work; there are few, if any, tourists here…because there really isn’t much to see or do…from a “tourist/vacation” perspective…)   So.  We go through the typical explanation of how we’re Peace Corps Volunteers and going to be here for 2 years, teaching Math or Chemistry or Nutrition, planting trees, developing community programs, bringing world peace, etc. etc., and usually, all is good and the locals are thrilled with us and say thank you and good luck and then proceed with their lives and leave us alone.  But unfortunately that’s not what happened this night at the fruit stand.  Our conversation with this man quickly went from typical to weird to creepy.   And before I even knew what happened, he somehow was holding the banana I had just purchased, asking me if I would give it to him.  No, I wouldn’t. Even though he said he was really hungry.  Too bad.  You give one person something and then you’ll have a hundred others following you around, asking for food or money.  Plus, I paid for my banana, and I wanted that specific banana.  It was perfectly yellow without any bruises, and I had picked it out specially.  Yes, I’m picky.  The creepy man then offered to buy me a different banana.  Which you might think sounds reasonable or at least like a quick and easy solution to resolve this awkward situation.  He took my banana, but was going to buy me another one in return, same price, same size.  Equal trade, right?  But no.  That’s not how things work in Burkina.  You see, me “accepting” his banana, could potentially mean a number of different things: that I would be his wife, that I would take him to America, that I agree to go out with him, etc.  So there was no way I was going to accept his offer to buy me a banana.  Or even, at this point, to take back my original banana.  It was best to just let him have it and walk away….as quickly as possible.  So we did.  Leaving me short 100 CFA…and without a banana.  Sad day.

However, our time in Ouaga was not purely for exploring, entertainment, and eating food.  It was actually to meet our homologues and attend 2 days of workshops together.  Our homologue is the person from our future village who we’ll work closely with, who will serve as a mentor figure and help us get integrated into our communities and understand the culture.  Our workshops were an opportunity to make sure that everyone was on the same page as to what Peace Corps is and what we, as volunteers, will (or will not) be doing during our 2 years of service.  My homologue is named Guel-Jean Kone (I think that’s how it’s spelled?) and he teaches math and science at the CEG (“middle school”) that I’ll be teaching at.  He’s about 30 years-old, has been teaching for 5 years, has a pretty wife, as well as a dog named “Welcome,” but no kids…yet.   After our 2 days of workshops in Ouaga, my homologue and I departed early in the morning to catch the bus to my village of Lanfiera, which is on the west side of Burkina and not too far from the country of Mali...