So, I’m in Ouaga, I’ve been kind of sick and the first thing my mom says is “Why don’t you write another blog post…it’s been awhile.” Okay, so that wasn’t the first thing she said, but close. Anywho, I know I owe everyone a little update; it’s only been four months. So, here’s what I’ve been up to:
1. The Mayor of Lalgaye gave me the key to the city
2. Three giraffes walked by my house the other day and I swear one of them winked at me
3. My latrine was broken for over a week, it was a fiasco and I never want it to happen again
4. My friend Marisol came to visit and I traded her to my neighbor for five chickens
5. I made a batch of chocolate chip cookies and threw them at children in the marche
6. I spend an hour pumping water each day, my arms will be ripped when you see me next
7. I rode my bike into the dam and got chased out by an alligator
8. Natu, my 12-year-old best friend, taught me how to beat an African drum
9. Joan Cusack came through to donate a solar panel to my school and we shook hands
10. I taught the teachers at my school the YMCA and now we do it every morning as the flag is raised
Although none of the aforementioned events took place, it’s the little things that make you smile that are most important, right? Now I’m going to pick up my fantabulously pink journal, page through and see if anything interesting has actually happened to me.
November
The Borne Fonden, an NGO by my house, has a TV, so on weekends, if there is a good show on a group of people will gather to watch. I was invited to watch the finale of a show called Faso Academy, aka American Idol Burkina style. There were three male and three female contestants. Each went through and sang two songs – all the females sang the same songs and all the males same the same songs. Also, unlike the abbreviated versions contestants on American Idol sing, these were full length songs. To say the least, three hours later I was more than ready to go to bed.
Tabaski (Muslim holiday): got up early to go pray with my neighbor Abdulaye and his family. They all jumped on his moto, while I chased after on my bike through town. We passed the masque and then stopped in the middle of the road. Apparently there were not enough people there yet, so Abdulaye rode off and left his wife (who does not speak French), his two youngest children and myself to stand in the road for a good half hour. As people gather, I am given a white hijab to wear. I joined the women, separated from the men and we pray in the middle of a dirt field under the beating sun, oh the sweat. The rest of the day I spend visiting neighbors, who each in turn feed me chicken and rice. In a matter of three hours I had over five meals and there were more to come. I need to learn how to say no! At night there was a dance at the “hotel.” I went for a bit, but as it was all the young people, aka my students, I felt awkward and left. Happy Tabaski!
Gave my first test at school. My counterpart and I teach the same classes, so we decided to give the same test. This meant that I wrote the test and then he made it easier. The test for my 6th graders was cheat proof, told them that I would catch them cheating, told them how I would know they had cheated and do you think they still cheated? Of course they did. I ended up taking off points from fifteen student’s tests and I know there was more. I felt horrible and mean and I wanted to give them the points anyways, but what would that teach them? Interesting difference from here and the states: to pass a test you need to get a 10/20 and the desired average on the test is a 10/20, so this usually means that almost half the class did not pass. This is also something that I hope to change!
I bought chairs for my house! When people come over now they can sit in them and not on the ground. I did have to get them back to my house from the marche, so I was the entertainment for a few minutes as I awkwardly wobbled on my bike with them stacked on the back. People here can seriously bike with anything and everything strapped to the back, I don’t understand it.
Made a new best friend, she is twelve and wonderful. I go and sit with her most marche days. Her dad has a table where he sells coffee and tea. It was watermelon season, so she always gets me a slice. We sit and she trys to teach me Moore and Yana. I also gain insight into the people of my village, who I should accept gifts from, who I should avoid, what other kids are saying about me. I’m starting to get the feeling that her dad is feeding some of it through her. It seems like her mom is not around much either, so I’m pretending I’m being a positive role model; she’s a bright kid and there is definitely potential!
Went on a bike adventure with my counterpart, Marcel, to the village 7km away. It really was not that far away, but as he drives around on a moto everywhere and bikes here aren’t that great, it was an adventure. I wish you could all meet him; he’s kind of awkward and dorky like me and he laughs at everything I do. The students really seem to like him and from what I’ve seen he’s a good teacher. When we got there, we headed to the school where a bunch of teachers were waiting and brewing tea. We turned the last 50m into a race and they all started cheering, the winner will not be mentioned.
Thanksgiving in Africa, there’s really not that much to say. My neighbor gave me a pineapple (note: he did not know it was any sort of holiday). I had been planning on making a bunch of food and inviting people over, but I actually had a fever and didn’t really want to move. So instead, I laid around all day and did nothing. I almost think it was better that way (not the being sick part), but trying to make a big deal out of it would have made me miss home. My parents did call and I got to talk to many of my wonderful relatives.
There was a meeting with all of the functionaires to create a panel. I’m still not really sure the purposes of the panel, but all the functionaires give money each month and then if someone gets married or there is a death in the family we give some as a gift. Anywho, for the panel, they asked for volunteers for each position (president, secretary, treasurer, etc), but no one wanted to volunteer. Then they moved on to nominations, which turned into people nominating their friends as jokes. Each nominee was asked to give a speech and each person stood up and stated why they did not want or was not qualified for the position. We voted and a person was elected. The minute the nominations started, I could see what was about to happen, and when the called for nominees for treasurer, the guy next to me pointed right at me and goes “Her!” My speech was short and I got three votes, thank you very much. I was mortified, but it was a good laugh.
December
The first weekend of December I headed into Ouaga for my first official VAC member. I am a committee member for the Volunteer Advisory Council. Basically if anyone from my training group has any complaints, concerns, or compliments that they would like to have discussed with the Bureau, they tell me and I pass the info along to the appropriate people. The first day the committee meets and goes through all the commentaries collected from other volunteers and determine what needs to be addressed with the Bureau staff. The second day, we meet with the staff, go over what we have to say, they go over feedback they have for us, we leave and report back to everyone else. Good fun.
The day before we left for In Service Training (see following paragraph). My friend Elena came to visit and it ended up being a traditional holiday, Nabaska, aka party for the chef. The night before they started drumming and dancing outside of the Chef’s courtyard and didn’t stop playing until ten the next morning. The men did this crazy dance where the jumped around sporadically, but when there was a particular beat of the drum, two of them would suddenly jump in sync. That afternoon all the functionaires got together and put together a sum of money to give to the Chef. We all went to his house, where we ate and drank while different people gave speeches and more drums were played.
Second week of December and I’m back in Ouaga for In Service Training! First time since moving to site that I have seen the rest of my swear-in group. It was weird because some people I talk to a few times a week and some people I had not talked to at all, but it felt like nothing had changed. We had a week of sessions with just us and then our counterparts came in to do a three day workshop on project planning. It was a lot of help to work with my counterpart to create a project idea step by step and to start brainstorming possibilities for my village. Training ended on the 22nd, so back to site for Christmas!
My friend Marisol came home with me for Christmas. On Christmas Eve, there was an APE, basically the PTA, meeting to elect any vacant positions. The whole meeting was conducted in Yana, but every so often the President would shout “Haas” and then translate into French for me. For lunch we made a Mexican feast, so delicious and baked lots of cookies. That night we lit candles, grew this funny crystallizing tree my mom sent me, listened to Charlie Brown’s Christmas and opened presents, cause I’m not a patient child! I would like to give a shout out to my Uncle Randy and Aunt Allison, my neighbor Chris, and all of my mom’s lovely coworkers for sending me unexpected Christmas packages. Such a fun surprise, and I feel more spoiled than ever. As my community is primarily Muslim there was not that much going on Christmas Day, but we ran around giving cookies too all my neighbors. We called it the “Donne and Dash” (donner means “to give” in French), aren’t we clever ha. And that was about it. The day after, we went on a bike adventure to Ouargaye, 20km south of me. We found a beautiful dam and frozen bissap (juice made from hibiscus flowers, sugar and other flavoring). There are rarely cold drinks in my village, so this was a thrill! Also discovered that I can get oatmeal there, so may have to make a return trip to run some errands. Marisol left the next day and I hung out waiting for the New Year.
New Years Eve came and just like in the USofA, the day was very anticlimactic, everyone hung out, chit chatted, listened to music and talked about how everyone was going to dance that night. Night came, I headed down to the marche, the music was bumpin, but no one seemed to be at the hotel dancing. Everyone was eating chicken, while most other days people eat goat meat, apparently New Years is a chicken holiday. There was no explanation, but you couldn’t get anything but chicken. I quickly learned that people didn’t want to pay to get in. I personally wasn’t feeling it, so I headed home early (plus I was going to bike the 40km to my regional capital the next day) and did not dance my way into the New Year.
January
I was sitting by the kiosk with my friend the old man, I don’t know his name and everyone calls him old man, when he got a call from the mayor saying all the elderly men were going to gather and talk about the history and culture of my village. Tagging along I found out that a radio station was there to record an interview. All of the old men sat on the ground while the mayor, the radio people, and myself sat in chairs – it felt very weird. Instead of a discussion, one man read a statement into the microphone and as he was facing away from me, I didn’t catch much. I’m hoping to get to talk to some of them to learn the history of my village. There was only one other woman present, which even the radio people commented on because normally there are no women. Apparently at all traditional gatherings, it is custom that a certain young woman and man always be near the chef (who is also the mayor). Who they are and why, I’m still not really sure.
Fun fact, I learned the last Chef of my village had twelve wives and over fifty children. Can you
imagine? In addition, it used to be traditional that when it came to marriage that two men would trade sisters, so if you didn’t have a sister, it was pretty challenging to get married. And if there were two sisters and four brothers, only two of the brothers could get married. Obviously, this is no longer legal nor does it occur in the more developed areas, but it is so interesting!
School started again and everything was getting back into gear. A week in a student died. Two friends had been in a fight, and that night one entered the house of the other and whacked him over the head with a board, resulting in his death. The student was obviously arrested soon after. School was cancelled the next day, and I went to the burial with the rest of the teachers. In Islamic culture, it is traditional to bury the deceased within 24 hours. The next day school started up again and it was as if nothing had happened. I was fascinated to see the reaction of the village because violence is part of the culture, which meant that there wasn’t a reaction. They also don’t show any emotion, so not many people talked about it.
A group of other volunteers and myself are planning a Science Camp to take place at the end of next summer. We want to get students involved in doing experiments, as they have no lab or materials at their own schools. Our main committee met up in Ouaga last weekend to get things organized and I came in with a nice fever and body aches. Both continued for several days, hence why you are getting this lovely blog post. I’m in the clear now and will be heading back to site tomorrow! Hopefully February will bring more excitement! See ya on the flip flop later.
