Tuesday, July 5, 2011

INTERNET!!!!

Great news: the Peace Corps has provided us trainees with 3 internet keys, and so all of us are taking turns having a key for a day, so we can plug it into our computers and have internet (though very very very slowwwwww internet) and upload our pictures, blogs, etc.  And so, as you might have guessed, today is MY internet day!  Whoo!   Which means I can finally post some of the writing/journaling that I've been doing.  Though, I will admit, I've been doing a VERY poor job of keeping up with what these first weeks in Africa have been like.  There's just so much to describe -- everything is new and different and strange and exciting.  It's hard to capture it all...    Enjoy!


 June 17, 2011

Bonjour!  I’ve been in Burkina Faso for almost a week already, and for the most part, it’s been great.  Naturally, it’s very different than the US (as places located on a completely different continent than “home” tend to be), and it’s definitely a whole lot warmer than Minnesota, as well as muggier and dustier – what a weird combination of almost polar opposite weather conditions, muggy/wet and dusty/dry!  I’ve been enduring a ton of non-stop sweating all day long, even when in our hotel’s air-conditioned conference room.  Granted, it’s still a good 85 degrees with the air conditioning, but 85 sure feels cold when it’s 110 outside.

Since I left home 9 days ago, here’s a condensed summary of what I’ve been doing:

Shopping:  I was treated to a last minute shopping spree, courtesy of my Uncle David and Aunt Catherine when I spent the night with them in New Jersey the day before Peace Corps Staging started.  I had to rearrange all my luggage to fit in all the additional items, but after carefully packing and repacking everything, I still met my weight requirement (though just barely!) and was well-equipped with high quality sunscreen, SPF 30 long-sleeved light weight shirts, 100% Deet bug spray to prevent mosquitos from attacking me, a wide-brimmed hat to keep the sun off of my beautiful face, and more.

Staging:  A brief 2-day orientation in Philadelphia where I finally got to meet all the other Peace Corps volunteers who were also going to Burkina Faso.  Much to my surprise, there were 50 of us.  FIFTY!!!  28 girls and 22 guys from different states and of various ethnicities; however, I am the sole Minnesotan here.  According to everyone else, I have a horrible Minnesooootan/Fargo-ish accent, don’t cha know?  They make fun of me all time and enjoy asking me to say certain words, like “boat” and “Minnesota” and “about.”  I dunno what they think they’re hearing, but it can’t be nearly as bad as the Texans’ “Hey ya’ll!” or the New Yorkers’ version of “coffee.”   Staging mainly consisted of turning in final paperwork, getting some advice on maneuvering through the airports, and preparing us for what we’d see/experience when we finally arrived in Burkina Faso.  We got a bit of “walk around” money to spend in Philly, which the majority of us used to splurge on a fancy “last supper” at TGI Friday’s, which was ever so conveniently located right next to our hotel.  My meal consisted of a grilled chicken & bacon sandwich, French fries, and a huge margarita!  Mhmmm.  Right away our group of 50 seemed to click and got along as if we’ve known each other all our lives.  It helps that we’re all really close in age (i.e. recently graduated from college within the past couple of years), though there are a few “old” (but of course wise!) ones in our group…but even so, no one’s over age 35…which, not gonna lie, is kinda disappointing.  A lot of us volunteers were hoping for at least one old couple to be a part of our group, like a retired husband and wife, who would ever-so-naturally take on the role of being our “parents” in Africa.  But alas, there are no parents.  Just a bunch of young college grads.  I’m sensing the potential for our group to have tons of fun…and/or to get into lots of trouble…

Long airplane rides: New York to Brussels was rough.  It was a long flight (especially since we experienced a delay and sat on the airplane for an extra hour before taking off from NY), and we were supposed to be sleeping during the flight to help adjust to the time zone difference... But it’s really hard to sleep when you’re sitting up, squished between two strangers (non Peace Corps people) who are snoring, and the seats are uncomfortable…  but Brussels to Ouagadougou wasn’t as bad of a flight.  Not quite as long, better food, and we Peace Corps volunteers practically owned the plane!  Most the seats were empty (I guess there aren’t too many people who want to come to Burkina…) and so we each had our own row of seats if we wanted, which made sleeping SO much more comfortable.   Speaking of planes and airports, let me take a moment to brag about my exceptional packing abilities: baggage piece #1 was 49.8 pounds and baggage #2 was 33 pounds.  Unless we wanted to pay extra fees, we could have a maximum of 80 pounds, with no more than 50 lbs. per suitcase (give or a take a pound).  My approximately 83 pounds of checked luggage was perfect and so there were no additional baggage fees for me!  On the downside, however, my carry-on luggage was REALLY heavy.  Like, probably over 60 pounds. This was because all of my small (but heavy) items were stuffed inside my backpack and laptop case, since airports usually don’t weigh carry-ons.  All my stuff got to Africa annnnnd I didn’t even have to shell out any extra cash to get it there. I win.  Take that, strict airline luggage restrictions!

Orientation/Week Zero:  Welcome to Africa!
After arriving in Burkina’s capital of Ouagadougou (pronounced “Wha-ga-doo-goo” but typically just referred to as Ouaga – “Wha-ga”), we were met by Peace Corps staff, handed cold bottles of water, and chauffeured to air-conditioned vans.  We were taken to the SIL, which was the hotel we would be staying at for our week in Ouaga.  My first reactions (which occurred within moments of stepping off the plane):
1.       Oh my god, it is HOT. Unbearably hot.  The locals are all dressed in long sleeves because why…?  They’re cold?!?!  What?  This is their “cool” season!?!?
2.       Wow.  Most people here are really black. Like, truly the color black.  Not to be racist or anything, but…I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with such dark skin -- I guess that’s what happens when you’re from southern Minnesota...  Various shades of browns and caramels, sure.  But actually black?  Wow.  I probably sound really judgemental and ignorant right now...
3.       Trash everywhere. (People just throw garbage on the ground since there isn’t anywhere else to put it – trash cans are uncommon; waste management service is even more rare.)  And the overall landscape is…flat and….more flat.  The ground is composed of reddish-orange sand.  Basically, dirt everywhere.  A couple trees or green plants here and there, but mainly dirt. But at least the dirt is kinda pretty, with its red tint.

Although Ouaga is the capital of Burkina and a big city (by Burkina standards), I was surprised at how “rural” the majority of it was and how much it lacked, so to speak.  Most roads were just dirt pathways, animals were everywhere (chickens, cows, goats, etc.), and little kids wandered the streets by themselves.  Within walking distance of our hotel were a few restaurants.   But they all served pretty much the same thing: white rice with a variety of sauces (tomato, peanut…), noodles, bread, and, if the restaurant was really high class, you could order chicken and might even get ice to put in your beverage. A good meal at a nice restaurant might cost 2000 CFA (essentially the equivalent of $4), which at first glance, seems really “cheap.”  Heck, we Americans can afford to eat out at these 5-star restaurants every night, for under $5 a meal!  However, when put into the perspective of the living conditions in Burkina, that nice meal for 2000 CFA is extremely expensive when your total monthly income is under 5000 CFA ($10/month).  Moving on to more “affordable” eating options, ordering rice and sauce at an average-okayish quality restaurant costs about 300-600 CFA ($0.75-$1.50), and “street food” (i.e. food bought from a random vendor on the street) such as a bowl of beans and couscous, which sometimes is great but other times results in getting sick due to unsanitary conditions or undercooked food, runs for under 200 CFA (under 50 cents). 

Most of us Peace Corps Trainees (PCT’s) would summarize this first week in Africa as “summer camp.” We attended sessions, followed around our “counselors” (aka the current PCV’s – Peace Corps Volunteers who have been in country for a year or two) and asked them for advice, had meals prepared for us by the hotel kitchen staff, and participated in organized activities.  We played lots of cards and other games like “Never Ever Have I Ever…” and even got some Frisbee and soccer going.  We were spoiled in that our hotel rooms had a fridge and air conditioning… so we had cold water to drink and a cool room to sleep in at night.

Cool things we received that I kinda wish I would’ve known about before leaving America and packing my bags:
*Full out medical kit, complete with bug spray, sunscreen, vitamins, rehydrating drink mix, medicines to treat any and every kind of symptom, bandages, antiseptic creams, and more.  You name it, and it’s probably in my med kit.  Seriously.  And not just like only 2 or 3 tablets of each pill (i.e. Tylenol, anti-nausea, etc.), but a whole bottle of each. 
*Water bottle with built-in water filter.  Perfect for traveling when access to clean water is limited. 
*Cool mountain bike and accessories: bike light, bike lock, repair kit, water bottle, tire pump, etc.
*Lots of other stuff, like "walk around" money to cover basic expenses (such as food), as well as a cell phone, which technically we had to purchase -- but I used my walk around money to cover the majority of the cost.  Plus once we complete training, we are automatically enrolled into the Peace Corp's float plan, and then we can call/text all other Burkina Peace Corps volunteers for free.  I can't wait!

 
Out of the 50 of us, 38 will be working in Education (including me -- I'll be teaching math) and 12 will be DABA (Developing Agriculture, Environment, & Business Activities).  And yes, I do realize there’s no “E” for environment in “DABA” … apparently it’s an imaginary “E”…or at least that’s what they told us...  I'll describe what each of us will be doing (i.e. our job descriptions) in a later post...
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June 24, 2011
We’ve moved out of the comfort of our Ouaga hotel and the fifty of us are no longer all together.  The 38 education PCT’s (which I’m a part of) have moved into the city/village of Sapone, and the 12 DABA PCT’s (Agriculture and Business) have inhabited nearby Ilpace, which is about a 20 minute bus-ride away.  We have been placed with local families, and so we each have our own host family.  An “adoption” ceremony was held when we arrived in Sapone: there were traditional costumes, masks, drummers, dancers, etc.  It was awesome.  Completely indescribable, but totally awesome.  All of us had huge smiles plastered on our faces, though our eyes had that “deer in the headlights” look to them.  We were excited and yet, for the first time since arriving in Africa, absolutely terrified.  What had we gotten ourselves into?  Were we really ready to go off and live with complete strangers who didn’t speak our language?  Ready or not, it was time.  I wish someone had videotaped our adoption ceremony as each of us were called up one by one and paired with our family.  The expressions on everyone’s faces (including the locals’) were priceless.  Some of my friends looked like they were going to cry.  And some of the Burkinabe looked like they might cry too, if they got an American that looked different from what they were expecting.  And when Ed’s name was called (the sole African-American in our Peace Corps group), all the Burkinabe went CRAZY with cheering and applause and gasps!  What!?!? A black American?  No way!  Look at his dreadlocks!  And how tall he is!  Aren’t all Americans supposed to have pale skin with blondish hair and blue eyes?  Some Burkinabe greeted “their American” with a handshake; others went right for a hug.  One Burkinabe man even grabbed his new American son’s hand and thrust it high into the air for all to see, as if he was a coach who has just won the championship, and his American son was his shiny trophy.  All in all, it was a good time and fun to see everyone meet their family for the first time.  When the ceremony was over and it was time to head to our new homes, all of us PC trainees were grabbed tightly by the hand by our new parents and led away.  Some of us got into vehicles and drove away, others biked, some walked, and still others got into a cart pulled by a donkey. 

Here’s my family:
Père: Jean-Paul (the family’s last name is Nana)
Mère: Mamata
Sœur: Valerie (12 yrs old)
Frère: Christi (5 yrs old)
Bébé sœur: Cecilia (6 months old)

My family is relatively small; many of my friends were placed within families that have grandparents and cousins and uncles all sharing the same courtyard.  My family’s courtyard is comprised of one “house” (about 20x15 feet) divided into 3 small rooms: a living room slash kitchen table area (all the cooking is done outside) and 2 bedrooms just big enough to fit a bed inside.  Next to the family’s house, I have my own “house” (10x8 feet) that is big enough to have a twin-size bed, small table, and a chair.  My house also has a metal door that locks and one window.  There is a covered overhang outside, with a straw roof to block the sun and a couple of benches and chairs to sit on.  Also within our courtyard is the latrine (aka outhouse), which is basically divided into 2 rooms (each 2x3 feet) with surrounding 6-foot walls so no one can see you, but no roof overhead.  One side has a hole in the floor which serves as a toilet.  Yes, we essentially do our business squatting over a hole in the ground – and as one of my friends put it, “Your life is really put into perspective when you’re wearing $100 shoes and a dress shirt and tie, but yet you poop in a hole.”   The other side of this outdoor “bathroom” is used for showering/bathing, so it has a slanted cement floor with a hole for water to drain out of.   My first time using the outdoor latrine was awkward, needless to say.  And while showering was just as awkward, getting to dump cool water over my head was at least refreshing, even if I felt awkward.

My dad is a supervisor at a nearby high school and speaks a bit of English which has been a life saver for me, since I essentially know NO French.  My mom looks really young – like my age – but I haven’t actually asked her age yet…so maybe she’s not as young as she looks.  Baby sister Cecilia is cute and smiles at me a lot.  My sister Valerie and brother Christi were pretty shy at first, but are gradually warming up to me, though our dog Milo still hasn’t gotten used to having me around.  In fact, my very first night with my host family was, well, miserable, mainly because the dog wouldn’t stop growling at me, and when I had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, Milo wouldn’t let me leave my little house to go to the outhouse. He just kepting barking and growling and showing me his teeth.  So I was forced to hold my bladder until morning…

Everyone’s first nights with his/her host family was interesting, and we all came to class the next morning with tons of stories. Some of the various comments shared amongst our training group:
“I don’t know who my parents are?!?  The guy I think is my dad has at least 3 wives…I think.”
“They served me fish and noodles for breakfast…”
“I didn’t get breakfast…”
“What was in my spaghetti last night?”
“My room was decorated with pictures of Avril Lavigne and shirtless soccer players.”
“I told my dad I needed to buy a pagne for showering.  So he said he’d take me to the market.  Except we went to a bar instead and he bought me a beer…then we went home.  I still need a pagne…”
“My host brother tried to marry me off to his friend…”
“My mom walks around topless…?”
“I was asked to explain the meaning of Akon’s ‘Smack That’ and various other rap songs that are better left unexplained…so I told them I didn’t speak English.”
“Do donkeys normally make that much noise at night?  Also, it’s really hard to distinguish if it’s the baby crying or if it’s the goat squealing…they sound the same. Is that normal here?”
“Every time I say something, my family laughs.  Even when I know what I’m saying is correct and makes complete sense, they still find every word I say hysterical.”
“They can’t say my name, so they decided to give me a new name: Pengwendi.”

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June 27, 2011
The perfectionist in me has decided that I need to give you all an important disclaimer in order to put my mind at ease regarding my poor spelling/grammar, whether it occurs here in my blog, in an email, or in a handwritten letter…

Important Disclaimer:  Due to intense French language classes, combined with bits and pieces of other locally spoken languages (i.e. Moore, Jula, etc.), my English grammar and spelling has gone out the window.  If I spell things wrong or word phrases in a funny way, it’s not my fault.  Blame it on my language classes.  Also, with limited time and a lack of electricity to charge my computer, I’ve taken to typing things as fast as I can with whatever comes to my mind.  If my computer’s automatic spell-check doesn’t catch something, too bad.  I don’t have time to proof-read and edit my work… but even if my posts are full of errors and incomplete sentences, I have faith that you’ll be able to figure out what I was trying to say.
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July 1, 2011

So…I’ve been in Burkina about 3 weeks now.  I think.  I don’t really know, actually.  I’ll admit I’ve kinda lost all sense of time, due to the fact that we’ve been kept so busy during training that one day just seamlessly turns into the next and now, all of a sudden, it’s July.  Where did June go?  It’s about midnight (almost July 2) right now and the only reason I’m up is because it’s raining.  Well, pouring profusely, to be exact.  And the pouring rain is causing me to have mixed emotions.  First, yay! Rain!  Rain results in a drop of temperature, which means tolerable weather conditions (though the Burkinabe people think it’s really cold and will be bundled up in winter coats, not kidding).  Rain also softens the ground, which will allow the farmers to plant their fields.  I guess the farmers are behind so far this year, due to the lack of rain.  Usually by now, the rainy season has started, meaning that it’ll rain almost every day, but it’s only rained a couple times total since I arrived in Africa.  However, as much as the rain is a good thing, it’s making me angry right now.  Rain means I can’t sleep outside.  Which means I have to sleep inside my little “house” that traps heat like no other.  It’s like a sauna in here. There’s no way I can sleep when I’m sweating so much that I need to drink a bottle of water every hour just to keep from getting dehydrated…  And in particular, I’m angry because I WAS outside in my little Bug Hut tent, sleeping rather comfortably -- or as comfortable as one can hope to get when sleeping on rocks -- in the “cool” night air (well, cooler than normal for Burkina)…until my host dad woke me up, chauffeured me towards my house, and handed me my collapsed tent as it started to rain…  Granted, I’m glad he woke me up and that I didn’t have to find myself and/or my tent soaked from the rain, but still.  I would much rather it rain during the day, so that at night I can sleep outside…and actually get a few hours of semi-comfortable rest.  Thus, I’m currently in my steaming hot house, listening to the pounding rain, sweating abundantly, and on my computer because there’s no way I can sleep right now.  Unless I pass out from heat exhaustion and/or dehydration…  Speaking of storms, the thunder and lightning here are pretty awesome.  I don't think I’ve ever heard thunder so loud or seen so many bolting flashes light up the sky.  It’s crazy.  And kinda scary.  And sometimes the wind gets so wicked that the rain comes horizontally rather than falling vertically.  Like it is right now.  Resulting in the rain seeping through doors and windows.  Like it is right now.  Good thing everything I own is already on my bed…

Being 3 weeks in, I’m starting to develop routines.   For example, I usually get up by 6am.  Compared to most the other Peace Corps trainees, I apparently get to “sleep in.”  Some of my friends are woken up by their host families by 5am.  Granted, in a culture where there’s limited (or no) electricity, life’s activities are dictated primarily by the light of the sun.  As soon as the sun comes up, it’s time to get to work, because once the sun goes down at around 6pm, you can’t do much else, unless you have electricity to provide light…  So it’s early to bed and early to rise for most people here.  Anyways, after I get up, my little sister Valerie fills my bucket up with water for my bucket bath.  She carries it to the outdoor “shower” room and I follow with my towel, soap, and fresh clothes.  By the time I get back to my room, my host mom has already set out my breakfast, which everyday consists of a plate of white bread and hot water to make tea.  If the bread is fresh-ish, I usually eat a couple of pieces and put a couple more in my bag to snack on throughout the day while at training.  If the bread is not so fresh (which happens more often than not), I try to swallow a bite or two of the dry styrofoam carbohydrates – sometimes dunking it in my tea helps – and the rest gets packed up and taken to training…where, sadly, I usually end up throwing it away.  After I eat my breakfast in my room, I bring my dishes out and someone takes them.  Then one of my siblings gets a chair for me to sit in and I’m told to sit.  They always want me to sit and essentially do nothing.  Eventually, I hope they’ll let me wash dishes or help with chores.  But for now, I’m not allowed to help, haha.  So I guess I’ll just enjoy sitting for now… At first it was really awkward to just sit there, but now that I’m starting to get used to it, I’ll bring a book and study my French vocab while I sit still somewhat awkwardly.  I’ll sit in my chair until it’s time for me to get on my bike and go to the FDC for training.  My bike ride every morning is nice.  It’s about a 10-15 minute drive total, with the first half going through fields and dirt paths, and the rest on THEE highway (there’s only one highway in this town and it’s referred to as “the grand route”).  At training I sit through a bunch of lectures and sessions, dealing with everything from understanding Burkinabe culture and how to avoid getting sick, to French language classes in small groups and advice on classroom management.  Most of it is pretty boring.  It’s all good info, but I’ve heard and/or formally learned most of this stuff so many times before, that to hear it all again when it’s 100 degrees outside is a struggle.  By the time class is over at 5:15pm each day, I’m pretty tired (and hungry) and ready to head home.  Occasionally I’ll stay after for a bit and play cards or hang out with friends, but usually I’m home by 6pm.  My sister will fill my bucket for my evening bucket bath and put my bike inside my house, and when I’m done showering, my supper will be laid out.  Usually my evening meal consists of a huge pot of rice or noodles covered in an oily sauce (of which I only can eat about 1/10 of the pot they give me so much), with a small piece of fish or several bite-sized chunks of meat.  Don’t ask me what the meat is.  I have no idea.  It could be dog for all I know. More than likely it’s probably goat, but like I said, who knows…  I’m just happy to get some protein.  I’ve noticed my family rarely has meat with their meal.  They’ll eat the same rice/noodles or whatever other carb I was served, but without the protein because meat is expensive.  I’ve already adapted to eating whatever is put in front of me, especially if it seems to resemble a piece of meat.  In the USA, we wouldn’t cook – or even buy in the first place – the chunks of meat I’m served here.  It tends to be mainly bone and fat, and very little of it is actually what we would call “meat” in America.   But I eat it anyways… unless it happens to be an eyeball or a chicken head/beak – yes, I’ve found both of those in my food!  Also, I’ve gotten pretty dang good at gnawing on bones to get every last bit of protein off.  Anyways, back to my daily schedule.  After eating supper, I sit outside in my chair for a while and read or try to converse with my family in my broken French.  And by 8:30pm, I set my tent up outside and go to sleep.  That’s my life so far in Africa.


But today’s events were different!  It was a rather unique and somewhat unusual day.  First, before I left for class this morning, my host dad informed me that my 12 year old sister Valerie was going to Ouaga today to visit family….for a MONTH.  Wow, glad I knew about that in advance!?!  I would have liked to maybe say goodbye to her or something… but I guess it’ll have to wait until she gets back in a month.  But because my dad had to take Valerie to Ouaga, he was able to purchase some fresh veggies and fruit!  Thus, I was able to eat lettuce, a tomato, a carrot, and an apple!  Such an amazingly delicious treat to eat salad and have an apple for once!  All that is available in our local market right now are mangoes, bananas, onions, and some green peppers; there’s not much variety when it comes to food here.  My dad also bought me a bottle of Coca-Cola to drink with my supper.  I also happened to show my host family my photo album book for the first time, and they got a kick out of seeing pictures of me and my family.

So, all in all, a good day.  Now if only it hadn’t rained this evening and I could still be outside sleeping in my tent, rather than sweating profusely inside this sauna… but fortunately it does sound like the rain is finally slowing down, so hopefully that means it will stop soon!  And then I’ll be able to open my door and let some of this hot air out and the night’s cool post-rain breeze in…and maybe even catch some shuteye before 6am arrives. 

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