Earlier today (11/21) I was riding my bike around the city swerving in and out of traffic and I realized this was all very familiar à New York City. Now mind you the whole country has 14 million and the American city has 8 million alone but alot of what I learned in New York has come in handy.
As a pedestrain in New York City, you are always in a rush. I learned to dodge moving and parked vehicles, push pedestrains (hehe) and run to trains. Here I am kinda doing the same thing. On my bike, I have to avoid other bicyclists, motorcyclists, pedestrains, vendors, vehicles, oncoming traffic, did I mention goats? It's alot and you have to learn fast, kinda like you have to in the Big Apple.
Most people here do not have cars,you either bike or ride your moto and some walk (like miles). There are taxis in the city but they are expensive and unless you are in the capital, your bike can get you everywhere you need. So I will be grocery shopping, visiting friends, going to cyber cafes, working... all on my bike. In New York, you walk or take the subway. So I am kinda prepared to be innovative in my baggage and thoroughly plan my errands.
In New York, having a stroller is kinda ridiculous. Unless you have a car and use taxis all the time, traveling with a child has to be creative. Subway elevators never work and really don't exist. SO you either recruit a fellow rider to help you with stairs or you pray for seating for your tired child. Here, they just strap them to their back. It actually works really well, you can still accomplish all of your chores and errands. I may do it, depending on my fitness level (the women here are STRONG. We always talk about how they would win a fight with men).
All vendors outside stores here (which are most) have negiotable prices. Now they will try to get you because you are a "Nasaro" but we usually talk them down to normal prices. My frequenting flea markets in NYC helped here.
If I travel to another part of the country I go by bus. If I am lucky, I coordinate my travel and take the nicer bus (a/c, TVs, cozy seats). I really only traveled to DC or Boston when I was in NY. If I left early enough, I could take the luxurious Bolt Bus.
I could go on but I won't. I am adapting well because some of the transitions have been easier. Thank you to the birthplace of my adult life- New York!
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
Welcome to Harmattan
You wake up to a chill in the air. You realize that last night you wrapped yourself in your blanket because of the cold. It is too cold for you to even bathe in the morning, even after your water has been boiled. People are wearing parkas (bubble jackets) others are battling the flu. This is in Africa!
It's called Harmattan and it is the equivalent to America's winter. The dusty winds come down from the Sahara and create a chill. Everything becomes dusty, so much so you have to wear a mask over your nose and mouth. Every morning I wake up with a runny nose and cough. I believe I am the sole American that thinks its cold enough to wear a sweatshirt (70 degrees in the states is chilly to me too). The weather will last like this until February when it becomes blazing hot- 104 degrees average. In June, it finally cools down with rain but it rains alot. Most people plant their crops at this time but there is no traveling because most roads are unpassable. In October, the rain ends and it is the mini hot season (about 95 degrees). There are four seasons here- familiar!
Most volunteers treasure Harmattan because it is so much cooler. I will just keep wrapping myself up and hope I don't get another cold.
It's called Harmattan and it is the equivalent to America's winter. The dusty winds come down from the Sahara and create a chill. Everything becomes dusty, so much so you have to wear a mask over your nose and mouth. Every morning I wake up with a runny nose and cough. I believe I am the sole American that thinks its cold enough to wear a sweatshirt (70 degrees in the states is chilly to me too). The weather will last like this until February when it becomes blazing hot- 104 degrees average. In June, it finally cools down with rain but it rains alot. Most people plant their crops at this time but there is no traveling because most roads are unpassable. In October, the rain ends and it is the mini hot season (about 95 degrees). There are four seasons here- familiar!
Most volunteers treasure Harmattan because it is so much cooler. I will just keep wrapping myself up and hope I don't get another cold.
Friday, November 21, 2008
SIDA
They feel encouraged. Though their families have shunned them and their communities won't accept them, their spirits are good. They are healthier. They are alive. And they have each other. Many of them are widowers who got tested because they felt sick. Their fears became a reality when it came back positive. All they knew about it was it killed people. They were so full of fear... but they are still here. They are a testimony to others that you can survive. You will survive. There is help.
SIDA (or AIDS in English) has infected too many women in Sub-Saharan Africa. 87 percent of AIDS cases in the world are women in Sub-Sahara Africa. We visited AAMIE in Ouihagouya and heard their stories. They come from all over the country to the northern city because of the support this center offers. There is treatment and they are better but they want a cure. They said that will make a huge difference in how many people actually get tested.
Education is key. Research is key. Donations to help subsidize the treatments is key so more can live. Join in the celebration of World AIDS Day on December 1st.
SIDA (or AIDS in English) has infected too many women in Sub-Saharan Africa. 87 percent of AIDS cases in the world are women in Sub-Sahara Africa. We visited AAMIE in Ouihagouya and heard their stories. They come from all over the country to the northern city because of the support this center offers. There is treatment and they are better but they want a cure. They said that will make a huge difference in how many people actually get tested.
Education is key. Research is key. Donations to help subsidize the treatments is key so more can live. Join in the celebration of World AIDS Day on December 1st.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Amina
Thank you for this opportunity. I feel blessed to be here. I have already grown and learned alot. My transition has been much less difficult than expected. I have made friends and am learning the customs and cultural norms quickly. Most importantly, the Burkinabè want me here. They want to work with me to create a better country for their people. I pray our partnership is successful. I pray we change lives. Thank you for this blessing.
Amina.
***
Amina is the response you give after a blessing or pray (It is a Moorè word). It is equivalent to Amen. We often receive blessings here, people wishing us a good stay and that God watches over us. I love it!
***
On Sunday, me and my friend went to Church in Sissamba. Most villagers (like 95 percent) of Sissamba are Muslim and their is a mosque in every neighborhood. I was nervous my host dad would be upset I was going. (Now I am not telling the whole truth. He invited me to have breakfast with them and I said no I have to go and I already ate. Umm, Karla that is a no no. Plus I told him I was going to the Baptism of my friend's host cousin. I said nothing about Church. So on my way to church when his friend asked where I was going and I said church, that is when I got nervous. That is the whole story.) So that is why I was nervous. The Burkinabè are open to all religions. They expect you to attend each religion's parties, holidays and celebrations.
The church service was good. Good music, good Word, good energy. It is a Catholic church and the guest preacher studied in Ghana so he translated the Moorè sermon into English (very cool). Next time I am in Sissamba on a Sunday, I'll go back.
Amina.
***
Amina is the response you give after a blessing or pray (It is a Moorè word). It is equivalent to Amen. We often receive blessings here, people wishing us a good stay and that God watches over us. I love it!
***
On Sunday, me and my friend went to Church in Sissamba. Most villagers (like 95 percent) of Sissamba are Muslim and their is a mosque in every neighborhood. I was nervous my host dad would be upset I was going. (Now I am not telling the whole truth. He invited me to have breakfast with them and I said no I have to go and I already ate. Umm, Karla that is a no no. Plus I told him I was going to the Baptism of my friend's host cousin. I said nothing about Church. So on my way to church when his friend asked where I was going and I said church, that is when I got nervous. That is the whole story.) So that is why I was nervous. The Burkinabè are open to all religions. They expect you to attend each religion's parties, holidays and celebrations.
The church service was good. Good music, good Word, good energy. It is a Catholic church and the guest preacher studied in Ghana so he translated the Moorè sermon into English (very cool). Next time I am in Sissamba on a Sunday, I'll go back.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
"KM, we have a new president"
I have heard (rather read) these words many times over the past week. People are motivated, inspired, overwhelmed, overjoyed... one Burkinabè newspaper had an article written about it, how Black peoples' blood was not spilled in vain, how big a deal this is for the world.
We have a new president. America has a new president. I am an American, yet I feel so disconnected.
We begged, pleaded, and were finally allowed to stay at the training center so we could have access to a TV on election night. I stayed up all night to watch it, which meant I was barely "present" the next day in class. I watched in French, a language I am still a novice in especially when watching a international broadcast on politics. I stared at the maps and looked at the electoral results. I cheered as Obama won more and more states... then I fell asleep, it was 3:45am. When I woke at 7, I was told we had a new president. I was happy, I am happy, but I think I would feel different if I was in the states.
Maybe its because I was not able to watch CNN for the weeks leading up to the monumental event... or that I could not correnspond with my politico buddies to talk about all the details and stats and the stuff many people here find boring... maybe its because I was not with my friends and family who are celebrating not only something major for the country but also for our race...maybe I am just exhausted from everything being so new and different that I can't contribute as much energy to celebrating as I typically would...
Or maybe it's just not a surprise. I always knew he would win, I always knew this day would come, so I already celebrated while I was in the states attending events, donating funds, etc. Maybe.
One thing is for sure- things will definitely be different now. They will be better.
We have a new president. America has a new president. I am an American, yet I feel so disconnected.
We begged, pleaded, and were finally allowed to stay at the training center so we could have access to a TV on election night. I stayed up all night to watch it, which meant I was barely "present" the next day in class. I watched in French, a language I am still a novice in especially when watching a international broadcast on politics. I stared at the maps and looked at the electoral results. I cheered as Obama won more and more states... then I fell asleep, it was 3:45am. When I woke at 7, I was told we had a new president. I was happy, I am happy, but I think I would feel different if I was in the states.
Maybe its because I was not able to watch CNN for the weeks leading up to the monumental event... or that I could not correnspond with my politico buddies to talk about all the details and stats and the stuff many people here find boring... maybe its because I was not with my friends and family who are celebrating not only something major for the country but also for our race...maybe I am just exhausted from everything being so new and different that I can't contribute as much energy to celebrating as I typically would...
Or maybe it's just not a surprise. I always knew he would win, I always knew this day would come, so I already celebrated while I was in the states attending events, donating funds, etc. Maybe.
One thing is for sure- things will definitely be different now. They will be better.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
My Site Assignment
Congratulations! You are going to the village of...
Welcome to this beautiful site in the region of ... and the health district of .... You wanted a welcoming community, you got it! The COGES and CSPS staff are welcoming as well and very excited to have you. You have a Peace Corps Trainee mate nearby at Koumtouega and one PC Secondary Education volunteer, An Le, who is also close. You can find anything you need in Garango, just 6km away and you'll have many luxuries in your spacious "Villa Style" house- including your own flush toilet!!
***
Yesterday I received this description during our site assignment ceremony. I am moving to East Burkina Faso where there is plenty of fish, lakes, and more greenery. It is hard to find more detailed descriptions but this is what I know:
- flush toilet (I dont have one now so this is major)
-they have a lot of arts and crafts groups
-I am close to other volunteers
That's it! I will have two years to learn of the communities many treasures so it should be fun.
Welcome to this beautiful site in the region of ... and the health district of .... You wanted a welcoming community, you got it! The COGES and CSPS staff are welcoming as well and very excited to have you. You have a Peace Corps Trainee mate nearby at Koumtouega and one PC Secondary Education volunteer, An Le, who is also close. You can find anything you need in Garango, just 6km away and you'll have many luxuries in your spacious "Villa Style" house- including your own flush toilet!!
***
Yesterday I received this description during our site assignment ceremony. I am moving to East Burkina Faso where there is plenty of fish, lakes, and more greenery. It is hard to find more detailed descriptions but this is what I know:
- flush toilet (I dont have one now so this is major)
-they have a lot of arts and crafts groups
-I am close to other volunteers
That's it! I will have two years to learn of the communities many treasures so it should be fun.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Doesn’t feel like the motherland
Maybe it is just me but I have always heard “go to Africa, go to the homeland of your ancestors. You will be welcomed with open arms.” I could see that being the case in a touristy spot but in Burkina Faso not so (well not my experience anyway). It maybe that I am in a small village, but I definitely feel like a foreigner.
On our first night in Ouahigouya, we had a welcome party with musicians and dancing. Of course I was in heaven. I danced and danced and danced. No one could have told me it did not look natural. Afterwards a gentleman approached me and said “Welcome home my sister, welcome to Africa.” And then, he tried to sell me some cheap jewelry.
Since then, no one has said anything about my black skin. No one has welcomed me or made me feel any different than the other Caucasian American Peace Corps trainees. We are all “Nasaros” (foreigners). None of us belong. All of us struggle with French and integration. All of us plan to stay for only 2, maybe 3 years- we are all visitors. Its not bad, just different because I’ve never seen myself as anything other than a black girl.
On our first night in Ouahigouya, we had a welcome party with musicians and dancing. Of course I was in heaven. I danced and danced and danced. No one could have told me it did not look natural. Afterwards a gentleman approached me and said “Welcome home my sister, welcome to Africa.” And then, he tried to sell me some cheap jewelry.
Since then, no one has said anything about my black skin. No one has welcomed me or made me feel any different than the other Caucasian American Peace Corps trainees. We are all “Nasaros” (foreigners). None of us belong. All of us struggle with French and integration. All of us plan to stay for only 2, maybe 3 years- we are all visitors. Its not bad, just different because I’ve never seen myself as anything other than a black girl.
Change gonna come….
Well maybe change won’t come this fast but some things have already changed and some things have not.
The Same
• I still don’t like the dark, though between the hours of 6:00pm and 5:30am it is pitch black in the village. Battery operated lighting comes in handy.
• I still don’t like bugs and creepy crawlers and there is no escaping them. I have learned how to manage my dislike though, sometimes I do scream, but most times I kill them even before I have time for fear. Plus I have developed a strong attachment to my mosquito net- they keep everything out.
• I am still a hypochondriac, which may actually come in handy. We are learning so much about how to stay healthy and safe that my fear of illness may keep me well.
• I am still a know-it-all, but I have altered this trait quite a bit. I really don’t know anything but pay close attention to lessons so I can act like I do.
• People who like me without knowing me well still spook me…. but I am gonna need all of the friends I can get here. Plus I made many good friends in the states that way.
• I still need “ME’ time though it is impossible. My classes are from 8am to 5pm and when I am at home I am always watched because I am the foreigner. I bet when I am alone at my site (Jan 2009 to Dec 2010) I will wish for less alone time.
The Change
• I should probably stay out of mirrors. It’s not that bad but my word I am getting upset at my own non-chalantness towards my image. But this is how it is here, well with us PC trainees and Sissamba villagers. City folks are the ones who try to look nice. You are always dirty (the heat causes sweat, the bikes cause dust, and everything but the MAIN roads are dirt). We only brought so many clothes and its hard doing laundry in the dark (I did skip a day of relaxation to do wash though so I am not that dirty)…. I may be exaggerating a bit though. The outfit I have received the most complements on was a Talbots jumper dress and a top my grandmother bought for herself. I am 25years old! Clearly our standards of fashion have changed since arriving in Burkina Faso.
• I am doing things I would typically consider gross. If you ask about it I probably will not share… can’t embarrass the family anymore.
• I am taking a liking to the bucket baths and my personal latrine (sharing latrines/toilets is still gross).
• I am more open to different people- I think. I am meeting and enjoying people very very different from me- mountain biking enthusiast, lacrosse player, small-towners by choice, etc. Really what it is is there is only one other person of color in my group. When many of us shared photos of friends and loved ones, I noticed a major similarity- they only included people of the same race. I am sure after my experience with Peace Corps that will change, which is a great thing.
The Same
• I still don’t like the dark, though between the hours of 6:00pm and 5:30am it is pitch black in the village. Battery operated lighting comes in handy.
• I still don’t like bugs and creepy crawlers and there is no escaping them. I have learned how to manage my dislike though, sometimes I do scream, but most times I kill them even before I have time for fear. Plus I have developed a strong attachment to my mosquito net- they keep everything out.
• I am still a hypochondriac, which may actually come in handy. We are learning so much about how to stay healthy and safe that my fear of illness may keep me well.
• I am still a know-it-all, but I have altered this trait quite a bit. I really don’t know anything but pay close attention to lessons so I can act like I do.
• People who like me without knowing me well still spook me…. but I am gonna need all of the friends I can get here. Plus I made many good friends in the states that way.
• I still need “ME’ time though it is impossible. My classes are from 8am to 5pm and when I am at home I am always watched because I am the foreigner. I bet when I am alone at my site (Jan 2009 to Dec 2010) I will wish for less alone time.
The Change
• I should probably stay out of mirrors. It’s not that bad but my word I am getting upset at my own non-chalantness towards my image. But this is how it is here, well with us PC trainees and Sissamba villagers. City folks are the ones who try to look nice. You are always dirty (the heat causes sweat, the bikes cause dust, and everything but the MAIN roads are dirt). We only brought so many clothes and its hard doing laundry in the dark (I did skip a day of relaxation to do wash though so I am not that dirty)…. I may be exaggerating a bit though. The outfit I have received the most complements on was a Talbots jumper dress and a top my grandmother bought for herself. I am 25years old! Clearly our standards of fashion have changed since arriving in Burkina Faso.
• I am doing things I would typically consider gross. If you ask about it I probably will not share… can’t embarrass the family anymore.
• I am taking a liking to the bucket baths and my personal latrine (sharing latrines/toilets is still gross).
• I am more open to different people- I think. I am meeting and enjoying people very very different from me- mountain biking enthusiast, lacrosse player, small-towners by choice, etc. Really what it is is there is only one other person of color in my group. When many of us shared photos of friends and loved ones, I noticed a major similarity- they only included people of the same race. I am sure after my experience with Peace Corps that will change, which is a great thing.
Sissamba, just another suburb (kinda)
During training with Peace Corps, I will be living in Sissamba. Sissamba is an 8,000 person village about 8 km from Ouihigouya (the 4th largest city in Burkina Faso). When I first arrived, I was nervous about the unfamiliarity of everything but now I think it is kinda like any other suburb.
Sissamba is a community made up of different neighborhoods, usually divided by families. I live in Southeast Sissamba with my host dad, host mom, and five siblings. The surrounding compounds are inhabited by aunts, uncles, and many cousins.
Those who can afford to live in luxury, here that means running water and electricity, live in the cities. Those who cannot, typically farmers and herders, live in villages. Villages have no electricity, running water, and the homes are typically made of mud. (Its much better than I imagined though.)
In downtown Sissamba, there is a pharmacy health center and maternity center. There is also an area we have labeled “the men’s club” where popular men come to chat and relax. (All of our host dads are apart of the club). Adjacent to downtown area is the grade school. Most of the students attend grade school. There is even an APE (America’s PTA/PTSA) which some of the host dad’s head. On the main road there is a market. The market occurs once every three days but sells almost anything (think neighborhood plaza, in BK think Fulton Street, except it is an open air market). Food, cloth/cloth, household goods, hardware, electronics, bike repair, its all there. After each marchè (market), there is a discotech (nightclub) where teenagers go to dance and mingle.
Just like in the states, your housing is dependent on your income. So even though we all live in mud homes, sizes and courtyards (think porch/outdoor space) depends on how much money you have available. Most farmers and herders tend to have simpler homes. I don’t have my own courtyard, I share with my entire family. My family’s place is my house (one room place), my host mom and children’s house, my father’s two-room house, the kitchen area and two latrines (outdoor bathroom and shower area).
Another trainee’s host dad is Sissamba’s pharmacist. He is the only pharmacist in 11 neighboring villages so therefore has more money and power than others. His outfits are always pressed, clean and well-tailored. (Because most people are farmers and know their job is to get dirty, they wear the same clothes daily. I actually only see my father in clean clothes when he goes to prayer). The pharmacist’s neighborhood is right next to the market. He owns the sole store and telecenter in the neighborhood. So Sarah’s, my friend, house is larger. She even has her own courtyard with a hanger (shade).
Because of its unfamiliar traits- APE (PTA), limited hour market, small neighborhoods, only a couple of meeting places- adapting has not been that difficult. Though the living here is simple- no running water or electricity- we have all began to like our village much more than the city.
Sissamba is a community made up of different neighborhoods, usually divided by families. I live in Southeast Sissamba with my host dad, host mom, and five siblings. The surrounding compounds are inhabited by aunts, uncles, and many cousins.
Those who can afford to live in luxury, here that means running water and electricity, live in the cities. Those who cannot, typically farmers and herders, live in villages. Villages have no electricity, running water, and the homes are typically made of mud. (Its much better than I imagined though.)
In downtown Sissamba, there is a pharmacy health center and maternity center. There is also an area we have labeled “the men’s club” where popular men come to chat and relax. (All of our host dads are apart of the club). Adjacent to downtown area is the grade school. Most of the students attend grade school. There is even an APE (America’s PTA/PTSA) which some of the host dad’s head. On the main road there is a market. The market occurs once every three days but sells almost anything (think neighborhood plaza, in BK think Fulton Street, except it is an open air market). Food, cloth/cloth, household goods, hardware, electronics, bike repair, its all there. After each marchè (market), there is a discotech (nightclub) where teenagers go to dance and mingle.
Just like in the states, your housing is dependent on your income. So even though we all live in mud homes, sizes and courtyards (think porch/outdoor space) depends on how much money you have available. Most farmers and herders tend to have simpler homes. I don’t have my own courtyard, I share with my entire family. My family’s place is my house (one room place), my host mom and children’s house, my father’s two-room house, the kitchen area and two latrines (outdoor bathroom and shower area).
Another trainee’s host dad is Sissamba’s pharmacist. He is the only pharmacist in 11 neighboring villages so therefore has more money and power than others. His outfits are always pressed, clean and well-tailored. (Because most people are farmers and know their job is to get dirty, they wear the same clothes daily. I actually only see my father in clean clothes when he goes to prayer). The pharmacist’s neighborhood is right next to the market. He owns the sole store and telecenter in the neighborhood. So Sarah’s, my friend, house is larger. She even has her own courtyard with a hanger (shade).
Because of its unfamiliar traits- APE (PTA), limited hour market, small neighborhoods, only a couple of meeting places- adapting has not been that difficult. Though the living here is simple- no running water or electricity- we have all began to like our village much more than the city.
Monday, November 3, 2008
My Daily Routine
If any of you spoke to me prior to my departure, you know one thing I was worried about was my daily routines. In the Peace Corps handbook "A Few Minor Adjustments", it was noted that it would be challenging to experience everything for the first time including bathing, brushing teeth, routines in America we do without thinking. Well I am happy to say that I now have a routine established...
I usually wake up to the call of a rooster (very country/fairytalish). The time changes from day to day. I always thought they just called when the sun came up but apparently any lights (even flashlights) sets them off.
My host dad usually comes at 5:30, 5:45 and notifies me of his presence with a knock on my screen door. He asks for my wash bucket, which I place outside. My host mom fills it with warm water (half boiled, half regular temp) and places it in my bathing quarters. So I "shower" at sunrise- very beautiful. After bathing and getting dressed, I greet everyone. There is a Burkinabè superstition about not greeting until after you bathe. At this point I am handed a little loaf of French bread and hot water for my tea. I gather my books for the day and head off to class. On days we bike to the city, I have to leave at 6:30am; when we stay in village 8 am. My 8yo host brother leads the way on his bike to my meeting place. I greet many neighbors on my way- greetings are very important here, no matter what time of day. I thank him ("Y Barka" in Mooré) and meet up with my four other Sissamba trainees and our instructor.
We spend from 8am to 5:15pm in training. We are either learning French, doing cross-cultural activities, getting technical training for our health work, attending medical sessions about how to stay healthy or instructed on safety precautions to take. We are basically back in school. We have an hour and half for lunch break where we either go to a restaurant, shop at the market or visit a cyber cafe. As a requirement of Peace Corps, we are not allowed to travel at night so at 5.15pm we race home before night fall.
I usually don't arrive home until about 6pm. I give my wash bucket to my host mother and bathe under the stars. It is also customary to bathe before eating here (wash away the filthe of the day) and I am very grateful for this custom- I am always so gross at day's end.
I sit down with my host dad to prepare my dinner. We usually have at least 12 kids ranging from 1yo to 15yo watching us, well really me. I do my best to keep them entertained, noting every grasshopper (which the boys race to catch) and frog (which they race to kick). I also have a cool flashlight (thanks Cousin Billy and Cheryl) that they call whadigga (sun in Mooré). I spend an hour practing Mooré- numbers, naming surrounding objects, singing songs- and wait for my host father to correct my pronunciation. Then I have a conversation with my father in French which would only last 5 mins if I was fluent rather than the 30 it does.
At about 9pm I head to bed- very different than in the states. It is so hot in my room I sleep with just the screen door shut. The conditions are much better than my first night thanks to my use of insecticide and regular sweeping. (Isnt that interesting, by cleaning and spraying you can get rid of insects, even in a mud home).
Occassionally, I will stay up late and watch a movie (I saw a Jean Claude VanDaam one the other week) at the video club or I will receive an invitation to the party at the market's discoteque. Typically, I am too exhausted to do anything but climb into my bed covered in my mosquito net.
So right now, this is my rountine. On December 26th we head to our permanent site (no host family, living on our own) where I will have to establish a brand new routine.
I usually wake up to the call of a rooster (very country/fairytalish). The time changes from day to day. I always thought they just called when the sun came up but apparently any lights (even flashlights) sets them off.
My host dad usually comes at 5:30, 5:45 and notifies me of his presence with a knock on my screen door. He asks for my wash bucket, which I place outside. My host mom fills it with warm water (half boiled, half regular temp) and places it in my bathing quarters. So I "shower" at sunrise- very beautiful. After bathing and getting dressed, I greet everyone. There is a Burkinabè superstition about not greeting until after you bathe. At this point I am handed a little loaf of French bread and hot water for my tea. I gather my books for the day and head off to class. On days we bike to the city, I have to leave at 6:30am; when we stay in village 8 am. My 8yo host brother leads the way on his bike to my meeting place. I greet many neighbors on my way- greetings are very important here, no matter what time of day. I thank him ("Y Barka" in Mooré) and meet up with my four other Sissamba trainees and our instructor.
We spend from 8am to 5:15pm in training. We are either learning French, doing cross-cultural activities, getting technical training for our health work, attending medical sessions about how to stay healthy or instructed on safety precautions to take. We are basically back in school. We have an hour and half for lunch break where we either go to a restaurant, shop at the market or visit a cyber cafe. As a requirement of Peace Corps, we are not allowed to travel at night so at 5.15pm we race home before night fall.
I usually don't arrive home until about 6pm. I give my wash bucket to my host mother and bathe under the stars. It is also customary to bathe before eating here (wash away the filthe of the day) and I am very grateful for this custom- I am always so gross at day's end.
I sit down with my host dad to prepare my dinner. We usually have at least 12 kids ranging from 1yo to 15yo watching us, well really me. I do my best to keep them entertained, noting every grasshopper (which the boys race to catch) and frog (which they race to kick). I also have a cool flashlight (thanks Cousin Billy and Cheryl) that they call whadigga (sun in Mooré). I spend an hour practing Mooré- numbers, naming surrounding objects, singing songs- and wait for my host father to correct my pronunciation. Then I have a conversation with my father in French which would only last 5 mins if I was fluent rather than the 30 it does.
At about 9pm I head to bed- very different than in the states. It is so hot in my room I sleep with just the screen door shut. The conditions are much better than my first night thanks to my use of insecticide and regular sweeping. (Isnt that interesting, by cleaning and spraying you can get rid of insects, even in a mud home).
Occassionally, I will stay up late and watch a movie (I saw a Jean Claude VanDaam one the other week) at the video club or I will receive an invitation to the party at the market's discoteque. Typically, I am too exhausted to do anything but climb into my bed covered in my mosquito net.
So right now, this is my rountine. On December 26th we head to our permanent site (no host family, living on our own) where I will have to establish a brand new routine.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
A Modern Man
My host dad, Amedou, is a modern man. He does many things differently from other men, whether in village or in other countries. My french skills are still very limited but from our conversations and my observations here is what I learned.
HE HAS ONE WIFE
Most Burkinabè men have at least two or three wives but Amedou only has one, Azeta, who he refers to as Madame. Azeta has given him seven children ranging from 14 mos to 17 yo. He has an 8 yo daughter who Azeta has raised as her own. Either Nafis mother was not okay or Azeta said Amedous stepping out was not okay , here is where knowing French better would come in handy.
HE RESPECTS WOMEN
Yes he has one wife but there are people who have one woman who they dont respect. Amedou treats women as his equal. There are gender roles that exist, the same that can often be found in the states- women performing domestic work and men taking care of financial concerns, but his actions speak in volume. Amedou tells Azeta almost everything we discuss, educating her as he learns. She only speaks Moorè- pronounced Mooray- and he speaks French, Moorè, and a teeny tiny bit of English. He still never leaves her out. He also has sent his two eldest dqaughters to high school in the city. Most men would not send/pay for their daughters to attend school past primary education but he does.
HE IS A DOMESTIC MAN
Since my first night in Sissamba, Amedou has showed me how to cook. Each night, we set up chairs and ¨a charcoal grill¨ in the courtyard and he gives me cooking instructions. Usually we are surrounded by at least 12 kids who find everything I do (as a foreigner) fascinating. He tells me when to add salt, oil, water, how to cut the different veggies, etc. I soon learned that no one else in Peace Corps was cooking their own food, their mothers would make it and give it to them. He also taught me how to sweep the courtyard and had my sister teach me how to wash clothes (basic things are done differently here). Other trainees have these things done for them and done by women. The other night I got really sick (probably from my cooking- hehe). Amedou came to check on me and sat outside my room until the morning sacrificing good sleep to make sure I was okay.
HE IS EDUCATED
He knows French and Moorè (French is the language taught in school). In the early 80s, he worked with the diplomat and lived in Mali, Cote d' Ivore and Ghana. (He learned the little English he knows while in Ghana). He also used to teach Moorè. He is very patient with me and my French. Every night while cooking and under the watchful eyes of the neightborhood kids (my host counsins), we manage to have a conversation. We have discussed his experiences, Burkina Faso, America, the economy, etc.
HE IS A COMMUNITY ACTIVIST
Most people, whether in Burkina Faso or anywhere else in the world, are only thinking about their family and themselves. Amedou makes presentations to womens groups, school children, and members of the community about the prevention of AIDS and Malaria. This is a volunteer position. It is one of the most affective methods to distributing health information. They are actually the types of presentations I will be making with Peace Corps.
See, my host dad is a modern man
HE HAS ONE WIFE
Most Burkinabè men have at least two or three wives but Amedou only has one, Azeta, who he refers to as Madame. Azeta has given him seven children ranging from 14 mos to 17 yo. He has an 8 yo daughter who Azeta has raised as her own. Either Nafis mother was not okay or Azeta said Amedous stepping out was not okay , here is where knowing French better would come in handy.
HE RESPECTS WOMEN
Yes he has one wife but there are people who have one woman who they dont respect. Amedou treats women as his equal. There are gender roles that exist, the same that can often be found in the states- women performing domestic work and men taking care of financial concerns, but his actions speak in volume. Amedou tells Azeta almost everything we discuss, educating her as he learns. She only speaks Moorè- pronounced Mooray- and he speaks French, Moorè, and a teeny tiny bit of English. He still never leaves her out. He also has sent his two eldest dqaughters to high school in the city. Most men would not send/pay for their daughters to attend school past primary education but he does.
HE IS A DOMESTIC MAN
Since my first night in Sissamba, Amedou has showed me how to cook. Each night, we set up chairs and ¨a charcoal grill¨ in the courtyard and he gives me cooking instructions. Usually we are surrounded by at least 12 kids who find everything I do (as a foreigner) fascinating. He tells me when to add salt, oil, water, how to cut the different veggies, etc. I soon learned that no one else in Peace Corps was cooking their own food, their mothers would make it and give it to them. He also taught me how to sweep the courtyard and had my sister teach me how to wash clothes (basic things are done differently here). Other trainees have these things done for them and done by women. The other night I got really sick (probably from my cooking- hehe). Amedou came to check on me and sat outside my room until the morning sacrificing good sleep to make sure I was okay.
HE IS EDUCATED
He knows French and Moorè (French is the language taught in school). In the early 80s, he worked with the diplomat and lived in Mali, Cote d' Ivore and Ghana. (He learned the little English he knows while in Ghana). He also used to teach Moorè. He is very patient with me and my French. Every night while cooking and under the watchful eyes of the neightborhood kids (my host counsins), we manage to have a conversation. We have discussed his experiences, Burkina Faso, America, the economy, etc.
HE IS A COMMUNITY ACTIVIST
Most people, whether in Burkina Faso or anywhere else in the world, are only thinking about their family and themselves. Amedou makes presentations to womens groups, school children, and members of the community about the prevention of AIDS and Malaria. This is a volunteer position. It is one of the most affective methods to distributing health information. They are actually the types of presentations I will be making with Peace Corps.
See, my host dad is a modern man
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