Welcome Home

“My name is Karla, Bandaogo Karla.”
“Wait, you are American though right? How is your last name Bandaogo? Only people who live here have that last name.”
“Well I will be here for the next two years so that is my name now.”
Three weeks ago when I met the father of the chief he changed my last name to Bandaogo. I am now apart of the family and I love it.
***
I peddle as fast as I can following my friend Ali to his village. We swerve through dried up river beds and around wandering sheep. The air is cold as it has been every morning for the last month. I duck to avoid the branches of mango trees. I stare in amazement at the size of a Balboa trees. We are riding towards the mountain that surrounds the city of Garango. It is beautiful here. There is so much more vegetation than there was up north. I think I would be completely content if I spent an entire day observing my surroundings. I have seen the most beautiful sunsets and moonlit skies. I am at peace.
***
As I recap my experiences with some of my fellow volunteers, I realize that I really am in an entirely different world. For the past few weeks, I have asked myself “Where am I again?” My experience here does not at all resemble my training village of Sissamba. For one, people here have money and they do things out of luxury. I will recap a few experiences for you.
Convo #1:
“Karla, why are your pants dirty?”
“Well I just biked half a day during Harmattan. Its windy and there is a lot of dirt.”
“I will wash your clothes for you on Sunday. I have this special solution from Italy that makes clothes really pretty. Then we have to take them to be ironed. People will say ‘Oh Karla dresses so nice. Oh Karla is pretty.”
“Okay… fine”
Where am I again? In Sissamba, you just wore whatever you had which was not much. You did not worry about if it was a little worn or had a little dirt on it. Here it is a totally different world. I feel like I am back in the states. Image is important. If my shoes get dirty, I should wash them (I cannot figure out why because they are going to get dirty the very next moment). I was told I need to go to the city to get my hair done because they do not do it well in the village. This journey I am on is about integration and learning a new culture so I will have to do as they say.

Convo #2:
“Karla what are you doing on Thursday? Let’s go to the city. We will drink and eat and…”
“Okay…”
Mariam wore a new outfit as she does every time we go to the city. At noon, I followed her to her nephew’s house. He cooked for us, a man here cooked. He has French satellite TV, DVD and CD players, surround sound, and a flat screen TV. Where am I again? I was in a small city, not a regional capital. The fact she dressed up to go to the city reminds me of my grandmother (Hi Nanny!). When we used to go to Ouhiagouya, the 4th largest city in the nation, homes I went to did not have equipment like that. And you definitely did not get dressed up.

Convo #3:
“What did you eat for dinner? Just tou, you have to get a salad. Let’s go, I am going to buy you a salad.”
Where am I? Tou is a staple here and a part of the daily cuisine. But apparently in my village, tou is not enough. I have gotten lectures about how tou is not enough and that I should be eating more. I know that eating a millet blob is not nutritious but that was all you ate in Sissamba. And people here area always buying me food, to the point I feel sick. They grill chicken and won’t let me leave until I eat it. They practice this tradition called “Langa”, where you eat a lot because it’s a gift to have this much food. In Sissamba, there was no extra money to buy food for other people.

Where am I?
I am in a village with the haves. Some men in my community work in Italy for half the year on the tomato crops there. They send money and Italian goods back home. (My friend Mariam has “Chanel” shoes she wears everyday. The kids where Dolce and Gabana and Prada T-shirts.) There is a Danish NGO in my village that has provided us with a Preschool, trade schools (tailoring, welding, plastic-making, and capentry) and library. We also have a tourist resort where European tourist visit 4 times a year. There is money here. There is pride here. People are much better off than they are in other villages or cities even. And this is my home, kinda like my real home.