“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.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Friday, December 19, 2008
Wow, You're Expressive
I’ll blame it on my adjustment. I am in a different place with new people doing things I’ve never done before. This has got to be the reason I am acting as I have been, right? I mean I was pretty dramatic in the states but my goodness…
•It was a very special occasion, the day of our site announcements. We were all nervous and excited to find out where we would be living for the next two years. Each site description was read and then we would have to guess who was really going to reside there. When they read the description which included the phrase “flushing toilet” everyone went crazy. Then when they said my name I jumped up out of my seat and ran down the aisle flushing my imaginary toilet. “This is me flushing my toilet,” I stated. It was like I was on the “Price is Right” and just found out my prize was a car. People still talk about it to this day and it happened in mid-November.
•It is rare that you get anything cold here. When you live without electricity, it’s hard to put things in a fridge (there are ways though, many of the health centers use car batteries for power). A couple of weeks ago we visited the capital city Ouaga and it was really like being in a different world. We found many different delicious goodies including a frozen chocolate that called “Fan Choco” (think fudgisicle). Recently a staff member came from the capital and brought Fan Chocos with her. I literally jumped up out of my seat like 3 feet off the ground cheering. I feel like I was on TV.
•“Oh Karla cranky, never” was a sarcastic remark my good friend here made. So I have my days… and they seem to be occurring much more than they did in the states. My friends even asked me once “If we gave you some of the good cookies would that make you feel better.” I preceded to get an attitude that they were not already purchased. I really feel blessed to even have friends because it gets bad.
•We had a health lesson on how to cope with stress and we came up with about 50 different ways to handle it. So I have lots of potential solutions for dealing with the adjustment. So far, biking has been my best coping mechanism. I have to bike 10km anyway so I just let out my aggression riding. It works, sometimes.
The transition to BF has been challenging with lot of happy, sad and unnerving moments and I am sure I will have plenty more similar moments like this. I’m learning to deal with me!
•It was a very special occasion, the day of our site announcements. We were all nervous and excited to find out where we would be living for the next two years. Each site description was read and then we would have to guess who was really going to reside there. When they read the description which included the phrase “flushing toilet” everyone went crazy. Then when they said my name I jumped up out of my seat and ran down the aisle flushing my imaginary toilet. “This is me flushing my toilet,” I stated. It was like I was on the “Price is Right” and just found out my prize was a car. People still talk about it to this day and it happened in mid-November.
•It is rare that you get anything cold here. When you live without electricity, it’s hard to put things in a fridge (there are ways though, many of the health centers use car batteries for power). A couple of weeks ago we visited the capital city Ouaga and it was really like being in a different world. We found many different delicious goodies including a frozen chocolate that called “Fan Choco” (think fudgisicle). Recently a staff member came from the capital and brought Fan Chocos with her. I literally jumped up out of my seat like 3 feet off the ground cheering. I feel like I was on TV.
•“Oh Karla cranky, never” was a sarcastic remark my good friend here made. So I have my days… and they seem to be occurring much more than they did in the states. My friends even asked me once “If we gave you some of the good cookies would that make you feel better.” I preceded to get an attitude that they were not already purchased. I really feel blessed to even have friends because it gets bad.
•We had a health lesson on how to cope with stress and we came up with about 50 different ways to handle it. So I have lots of potential solutions for dealing with the adjustment. So far, biking has been my best coping mechanism. I have to bike 10km anyway so I just let out my aggression riding. It works, sometimes.
The transition to BF has been challenging with lot of happy, sad and unnerving moments and I am sure I will have plenty more similar moments like this. I’m learning to deal with me!
She can't help being a girl
She refuses to make eye contact with anyone. Though she has one of the highest ranking position in the room, she speaks while looking down. She remarks on how difficult it is for women in the workplace, how her opinion is overlooked… how she will never be considered an equal. But she made it to district manager level.
***
“Nafi… Nafioo” my host mom calls to my eight year old sister. She is always called away from the other kids to do house work. She is always called away from the other kids to do housework. She is the only girl still living at home and therefore the sole person to assist her mother with chores. Every morning she is up sweeping the courtyard while her brothers are still asleep. Every night she cooks, cleans, and watches her two year old brother. Her life is different from her six brothers and the expectations of her future are also- she is to marry, bare children and manage the home. Most women in the village do not know French because they stopped their studies to help at home. But Nafi is the only one of my host siblings who studies French every night.
***
Yes you are a woman but you are American and therefore you opinion matters. Welcome to the 3rd gender of Burkina. You are not quite as good as a man, especially not an American one but you are definitely treated better than a Burkinabe woman. You have to learn your role and place in this “archaic” world. But you are here and you make a difference, especially because you are female.
***
“Nafi… Nafioo” my host mom calls to my eight year old sister. She is always called away from the other kids to do house work. She is always called away from the other kids to do housework. She is the only girl still living at home and therefore the sole person to assist her mother with chores. Every morning she is up sweeping the courtyard while her brothers are still asleep. Every night she cooks, cleans, and watches her two year old brother. Her life is different from her six brothers and the expectations of her future are also- she is to marry, bare children and manage the home. Most women in the village do not know French because they stopped their studies to help at home. But Nafi is the only one of my host siblings who studies French every night.
***
Yes you are a woman but you are American and therefore you opinion matters. Welcome to the 3rd gender of Burkina. You are not quite as good as a man, especially not an American one but you are definitely treated better than a Burkinabe woman. You have to learn your role and place in this “archaic” world. But you are here and you make a difference, especially because you are female.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
La Fête Tabaski
Abraham had a son Isaac. He was a special gift from God because his wife Sarah had previously been barren. Isaac was the joy of Abraham’s life. One day, God came to Abraham and told him to go to the mount and sacrifice his son. In obedience, Abraham went to sacrifice his only son. As he raised his knife, an angel of the Lord appeared and told him that God was pleased with his obedience and that his son should be spared. The angel told him to offer a lamb instead.
***
We rise at 6am as usual and in the distance hear the call to prayer as we do every morning. Today is different though, it’s Tabaski, the celebration of Abraham’s obedience and God’s commitment. The men dress in their booboos, take their sons and go to pray while the women prepare a grand feast. My host grandfather who never goes anywhere even makes it to the field to pray… The men return and begin to sacrifice the lambs. The lamb is hung over the door frame of my host grandfather’s courtyard. I personally witnessed the sacrifice of 3 lambs… At noon, the food is done and we eat much more than usual. The women finally get dressed in their new outfits, their feet all are decorated with henna. Even the children wear new clothes. Everyone is happy and satisfied… I go with my host dad’s to meet with his students at 3pm. My host mother has prepared “Zacoom” (juice) for them. We all sip and talk and depart to continue in our families activities… My host mother rushes into the courtyard to get me because the women are dancing. They offer me a piece of their matching pagne (fabric) and I join in. We do traditional circle dances and they cannot stop giggling at me…On my way back to my house, my host grandfather calls me over and gives me 4 cuts of meat. I visited with him earlier in the day and drank Zacoom. I thank him with a big smile and give the meat to my host mother for preparation. My host uncle gives my host dad another “cadon” for me- a Fanta! To receive a soda in village is a big treat and I am super surprised. “Barka! Barka!” I yell thanking him in Moorè… At nightfall after dinner, the women and kids of my neighborhood all go out to dance and play. I am too tired to go even after several pleads from my host family. My host dad and I fall asleep in our courtyard listening to the radio… My first Tabaski!
***
We rise at 6am as usual and in the distance hear the call to prayer as we do every morning. Today is different though, it’s Tabaski, the celebration of Abraham’s obedience and God’s commitment. The men dress in their booboos, take their sons and go to pray while the women prepare a grand feast. My host grandfather who never goes anywhere even makes it to the field to pray… The men return and begin to sacrifice the lambs. The lamb is hung over the door frame of my host grandfather’s courtyard. I personally witnessed the sacrifice of 3 lambs… At noon, the food is done and we eat much more than usual. The women finally get dressed in their new outfits, their feet all are decorated with henna. Even the children wear new clothes. Everyone is happy and satisfied… I go with my host dad’s to meet with his students at 3pm. My host mother has prepared “Zacoom” (juice) for them. We all sip and talk and depart to continue in our families activities… My host mother rushes into the courtyard to get me because the women are dancing. They offer me a piece of their matching pagne (fabric) and I join in. We do traditional circle dances and they cannot stop giggling at me…On my way back to my house, my host grandfather calls me over and gives me 4 cuts of meat. I visited with him earlier in the day and drank Zacoom. I thank him with a big smile and give the meat to my host mother for preparation. My host uncle gives my host dad another “cadon” for me- a Fanta! To receive a soda in village is a big treat and I am super surprised. “Barka! Barka!” I yell thanking him in Moorè… At nightfall after dinner, the women and kids of my neighborhood all go out to dance and play. I am too tired to go even after several pleads from my host family. My host dad and I fall asleep in our courtyard listening to the radio… My first Tabaski!
Biking While Nasaro…
If you are in Burkina Faso and biking in a city, be careful because as a Nasaro (foreigner), you may get stopped by the police. The police target us because they think we have more money than others. You should have two lights on at night at all times- one in front and one in back or your bike will get confiscated and you will have to pay 6000 CFA. Now sure you may be biking next to host country nationals who are biking without any lights or brakes, but the police stop you. During our first month here, a trainee was stopped on her way back from the cyber café; at that point our French was pretty weak and we were nervous about being in a new place- so it was a terrifying experience.
Now we just know we have to abide by their rules:
-Have your ID on you at all times
-Have your bike certificate with you
-Obey all traffic laws, stop at yellow if you really want to avoid trouble
-Wear two lights at night
Hopefully I wont have to deal with them while here.
Now we just know we have to abide by their rules:
-Have your ID on you at all times
-Have your bike certificate with you
-Obey all traffic laws, stop at yellow if you really want to avoid trouble
-Wear two lights at night
Hopefully I wont have to deal with them while here.
Le Françias
I am happy to report that I am now fully bilingual! I’m lying but I can definitely understand most of what people say. I had a exam last Saturday testing my French communication level and I am at Intermediate Low, which is enough to finish training. When I got the results earlier today I was super excited because a month ago I was really discouraged that I would never learn (pronunciation of some English words is difficult for me so French was definitely going to be a problem). Thankfully, I have improved. My confidence has improved which means I practice more and therefore get more correction if I do make an error.
- Each week I have 2 to 4 two-hour classes in French which helps with my grammar and pronunciation. We are all divided up in classes based on our French level so we get the proper guidance. Our times is spent reviewing different real life scenarios (shopping, attending celebrations, etc) and we learn the vocabulary and proper expressions. This has also taught me a lot about the culture and the culturally correct way to do things.
-Every weeknight my host father teaches a French class for 18 men. They all speak Moorè fluently but they only know a little French (usually what they learned in grade school). The class is mainly to assist them with reading and pronunciation. I have attended class for the past two weeks and it has definitely helped me. Each night, we focus on a different consonant and pair it with a vowel; each student takes a turn reading the syllables and words out loud. I am also now considered a member of the group, which is kinda cool.
-If we are not too tired, I will also have a conversation with my host father or host brothers during dinner. We talk about our cultural differences, politics, the economy, our work, etc. Every time I say anything incorrectly, my host father waits until I am done speaking and then restates my question/statement in the correct form. He is a good teacher. Unfortunately my host brothers do not always understand my French and we spend the majority of the time trying to figure out what each other is saying. Our newest solution has just been for them to practice English with me (they learn English in high school here) and I practice French. It is very funny and cute when you have 12 kids saying “Good Afternoon… How are YOOOOOOOUUUUUU?”
When I get to my site (my home for the next two years), I am supposed to get a tutor to give me even more assistance in French. It is good to know that volunteers who came in with know French are now fluent and have no problem conducting their daily business. So I will be bilingual… trilingual if you count Spanish (wink wink SEO).
- Each week I have 2 to 4 two-hour classes in French which helps with my grammar and pronunciation. We are all divided up in classes based on our French level so we get the proper guidance. Our times is spent reviewing different real life scenarios (shopping, attending celebrations, etc) and we learn the vocabulary and proper expressions. This has also taught me a lot about the culture and the culturally correct way to do things.
-Every weeknight my host father teaches a French class for 18 men. They all speak Moorè fluently but they only know a little French (usually what they learned in grade school). The class is mainly to assist them with reading and pronunciation. I have attended class for the past two weeks and it has definitely helped me. Each night, we focus on a different consonant and pair it with a vowel; each student takes a turn reading the syllables and words out loud. I am also now considered a member of the group, which is kinda cool.
-If we are not too tired, I will also have a conversation with my host father or host brothers during dinner. We talk about our cultural differences, politics, the economy, our work, etc. Every time I say anything incorrectly, my host father waits until I am done speaking and then restates my question/statement in the correct form. He is a good teacher. Unfortunately my host brothers do not always understand my French and we spend the majority of the time trying to figure out what each other is saying. Our newest solution has just been for them to practice English with me (they learn English in high school here) and I practice French. It is very funny and cute when you have 12 kids saying “Good Afternoon… How are YOOOOOOOUUUUUU?”
When I get to my site (my home for the next two years), I am supposed to get a tutor to give me even more assistance in French. It is good to know that volunteers who came in with know French are now fluent and have no problem conducting their daily business. So I will be bilingual… trilingual if you count Spanish (wink wink SEO).
My Tummy…
Is unsatisfied. I think I have began to lose weight (like baggie jeans) not because of the lack of food but because of the lack of flavor. I am lucky in that I do prepare my own food (under the instruction of my host dad) so I know what is in it (most volunteers have meals prepared by there host mom and its always a surprise), but I still do not get to select the food of the day. At first I did not mind it too much and I was open to the different cuisine, but that sentiment has since faded and I am now happily anticipating my move where I will get to cook on my own.
Here are the typical ingredients of a Burkinabè village meal:
Oil- Lots of oil. Who knows why but using all of the oil in a bottle is satisfying. It may be because the food is always overcooked so to make sure it does not stick to the pan, you use lots of oil.
MSG packs called “Maggi”- This is typically the sole flavor in the meal. They are cheap to buy and come in a serving size already. You just crush them up towards the end of the cooking process and Voila!
Salt- The other flavor part but it helps with hydration so I am not opposed to it.
Rice- Always. Its quick, easy, cheap, and accessible. Anywhere you go you can get rice. It is typically with sauce already “regra” or you can add sauce later. Not bad but kinda boring
Spaghetti- Also a staple. Individual packs smaller than what you can purchase in the states and cheap. Used as a substitute for rice for variety.
Yams- Rock hard potatoes. Not a fave. I have avoided making them. Extremely bland.
Tou- A big blob of white of brown dough. Some of my friends say its like eating a cloud. Absolutely no flavor so you pair it with a sauce. My mom likes to make a gumbo sauce (okra) that I pretend to dip my tou in. I always ask for just a little and get WAY too much. I really despise this dish.
Sauces- Most dishes here are accompanied by a sauce of some sort. There are a couple of sauces I have experienced thus far that the Moosi people eat. All are extremely oily.
~Tomato sauce- different from the tomato paste stuff we have in the states but one of the best to me
~Peanut sauce- different from the Thai peanut sauces I am familiar with… it’s
okay
~Gumbo sauce- slimy and gross
~Eggplant sauce- My friend Sara’s host mom has been the only one to prepare this, very tasty because she puts lots of veggies in it
Here are my food possibilities:
-Right now there is a lot of produce which means there is a lot options. There are onions, eggplants, melons, garlic, peppers, tomatoes, squashes, bananas, etc. Here I only have access to the food following its harvest and when it is in season, so these are my options right now. In the “Spring”, its Mango season and everyone eats lots and lots of Mangoes- exciting.
-Peace Corps gave us a cookbook of how to prepare “American” dishes using local ingredients and facilities. It should be fun! Apparently I will have plenty of time to experiment.
-In the capital city there are also a lot of options- Pizza, Italian, Chinese, salads, at the international school (diplomat children’s school) they have American food- I had my first hamburger in 3 years here
So things are looking up for my tummy. Most female PCVs lose weight at the beginning and then gain it all back, so I won’t be smaller for long. Yum Yum!
Here are the typical ingredients of a Burkinabè village meal:
Oil- Lots of oil. Who knows why but using all of the oil in a bottle is satisfying. It may be because the food is always overcooked so to make sure it does not stick to the pan, you use lots of oil.
MSG packs called “Maggi”- This is typically the sole flavor in the meal. They are cheap to buy and come in a serving size already. You just crush them up towards the end of the cooking process and Voila!
Salt- The other flavor part but it helps with hydration so I am not opposed to it.
Rice- Always. Its quick, easy, cheap, and accessible. Anywhere you go you can get rice. It is typically with sauce already “regra” or you can add sauce later. Not bad but kinda boring
Spaghetti- Also a staple. Individual packs smaller than what you can purchase in the states and cheap. Used as a substitute for rice for variety.
Yams- Rock hard potatoes. Not a fave. I have avoided making them. Extremely bland.
Tou- A big blob of white of brown dough. Some of my friends say its like eating a cloud. Absolutely no flavor so you pair it with a sauce. My mom likes to make a gumbo sauce (okra) that I pretend to dip my tou in. I always ask for just a little and get WAY too much. I really despise this dish.
Sauces- Most dishes here are accompanied by a sauce of some sort. There are a couple of sauces I have experienced thus far that the Moosi people eat. All are extremely oily.
~Tomato sauce- different from the tomato paste stuff we have in the states but one of the best to me
~Peanut sauce- different from the Thai peanut sauces I am familiar with… it’s
okay
~Gumbo sauce- slimy and gross
~Eggplant sauce- My friend Sara’s host mom has been the only one to prepare this, very tasty because she puts lots of veggies in it
Here are my food possibilities:
-Right now there is a lot of produce which means there is a lot options. There are onions, eggplants, melons, garlic, peppers, tomatoes, squashes, bananas, etc. Here I only have access to the food following its harvest and when it is in season, so these are my options right now. In the “Spring”, its Mango season and everyone eats lots and lots of Mangoes- exciting.
-Peace Corps gave us a cookbook of how to prepare “American” dishes using local ingredients and facilities. It should be fun! Apparently I will have plenty of time to experiment.
-In the capital city there are also a lot of options- Pizza, Italian, Chinese, salads, at the international school (diplomat children’s school) they have American food- I had my first hamburger in 3 years here
So things are looking up for my tummy. Most female PCVs lose weight at the beginning and then gain it all back, so I won’t be smaller for long. Yum Yum!
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