After three weeks of being evacuated in Mali, I am back in Boston. I arrived on Wednesday night to dinner with my old roommates and the reality that my Peace Corps service is done.
On October 20th, we were given the news that Peace Corps Guinea was being suspended; this meant that all 93 volunteers needed to make a decision given the options to close our service, or "COS," just as I would have in July, or transfer to a new country. After analyzing the choices and probably stressing myself out too much while focusing on the decision, I came to the conclusion that I was going to COS; as of October 25th, I was officially done with my service. I came to Peace Corps in hopes of understanding education in the developing world a little better; I definitely achieved that goal. I gained so much more than I imagined I would from the past 16 months and am grateful for all I experienced. Transferring to another country just was not for me at this point. Ten of my fellow education volunteers are all going to Liberia together in January and I am excited to hear their stories and adventures.
After making the decision, my travel companions and I planned a trip to Ghana. A few hours after dropping off my passport to the Ghana embassy, I learned about a job as a classroom teacher at a Catholic high school in Boston. I had been applying to non-teaching jobs and substitute teaching in Cleveland and Boston with the reality that finding a full-time classroom job in November was going to be nearly impossible. Throughout the past three weeks of question and stress, I kept asking God for a sign of what to do, and seeing the email with this teaching opportunity made everything fall into place for me. There were no more questions. The Ghana trip would have to wait, and before I knew it I was flying across the Atlantic once again. I begin teaching on November 4th.
Being a Peace Corps Volunteer has been a gift. In many ways, it was what I expected - teaching math to a group of students in a situation that couldn't be more different than life in Boston and living a simple life in the middle of nowhere are two of the elements that met my expectations. Learning a new language, starting to understand a new culture, living with a warm, kind family in a small African village has opened my eyes in ways no other experience possibly could have. I am so grateful for all of it. I do regret our abrupt departure from Guinea; I feel like I was just getting started in my work and used to the village life; my French was finally making some progress. However, I can only look forward to my next group of students and experiences as a teacher, and appreciate those past journeys that brought me here.
So this is my last "math in africa" blog post; I'm not in Africa anymore! Thank you, merci beaucoup, on jaaraama nani - for coming along with me on this adventure. Your support, prayers, letters, care packages, and phone calls have most certainly contributed to my success in Kourou. I am truly blessed to have students, friends, and family like you in my life. Please continue to pray for the people of Guinea as they continue to struggle and hope for leadership in their country.
10.29.2009
10.18.2009
Mali Update
Since arriving in Mali last weekend, I have no "official" news about my status as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Guinea. However, the signs are not looking good in terms of our re-instatement. The Guinean military seems to still lack control, French and American citizens were told to leave, and President Camara has yet to declare he or any member of his party, the CNDD, will not run in the upcoming election. The African Union gave a deadline of midnight, September 17th, to sign a notice that he would not run for president, however he announced that he has postponed this decision:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8313290.stm
There are several Peace Corps personnel here from Washington DC who have been extremely helpful in figuring out what our options will be if we get official word that the Guinea program is to be suspended or closed. They seem to believe we'll know whether or not we're going back this week; after that we have about a week to decide on our next step and move out of Mali and on to our next job or position. There may be opportunities to transfer to other Peace Corps positions.
For me, in the midst of this, I often forget what is truly important and tragic in all of this - the fate of Guineans. My host family, students, friends, or Peace Corps employees - they have a long road to recovery. I am hopeful for them in that Guinea is finally on the map of the international community; in reality, the rule of Dadis is not that different than the previous leaders of Guinea; the tragedy of September 28th has shed light on a country that has been suffering for their 51 years of independence. This is the tragedy. As for me, I will move on to a new country or job back in the States without much difficulty; I never appreciated mobility before but being among those without it makes me realize what a gift it truly is.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8313290.stm
There are several Peace Corps personnel here from Washington DC who have been extremely helpful in figuring out what our options will be if we get official word that the Guinea program is to be suspended or closed. They seem to believe we'll know whether or not we're going back this week; after that we have about a week to decide on our next step and move out of Mali and on to our next job or position. There may be opportunities to transfer to other Peace Corps positions.
For me, in the midst of this, I often forget what is truly important and tragic in all of this - the fate of Guineans. My host family, students, friends, or Peace Corps employees - they have a long road to recovery. I am hopeful for them in that Guinea is finally on the map of the international community; in reality, the rule of Dadis is not that different than the previous leaders of Guinea; the tragedy of September 28th has shed light on a country that has been suffering for their 51 years of independence. This is the tragedy. As for me, I will move on to a new country or job back in the States without much difficulty; I never appreciated mobility before but being among those without it makes me realize what a gift it truly is.
10.09.2009
Back in Dulles
I'm writing from Washington DC's international airport today, enjoying one last round of sushi before heading back to West Africa. Almost 2 weeks ago, I was packed and ready to return for another school year in Guinea but instead was told by Peace Corps to stay in Cleveland until they had news about whether or not Peace Corps volunteers will be staying in Guinea. On Monday, September 28th, 157 people were killed in Conakry, Guinea, by the military trying to break up a political protest against current president. Peace Corps made a decision last Saturday to move all volunteers out of Guinea to a neighboring West African Country to wait and see how the people and military of Guinea would react to all of this. Above all, we need to be safe and able to move in and out of Conakry; right now, that isn't possible. The other 90 or so volunteers of Guinea have already arrived to the site; everyone arrived safely. I will meet them there tomorrow and am anxious to see everyone again.
For now, we're not sure what is going to happen next. Return to Guinea? We all hope so, but we're not sure if that is going to happen. If we don't, we'll be presented with options of continuing with Peace Corps. I'm not even sure what those options will be; I just have to wait. Lots of waiting.
From what I hear from my friends already at the site, it seems very nice, but spirits are low. Many people were not in their villages when this all happened and did not get a chance to say goodbye to their families. This is true for me; I'm hopeful that one of my neighbors took a bike ride over to my village to explain all of this.
For now, here are a few of the latest articles about the situation.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8298754.stm
Concerning when Dadis owns up to nothing and has no fear for the American:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/07/world/africa/07guinea.html?_r=1
He give an interview from his bed. He is the president of a country, in a situation where all eyes are on him. And he is in bed.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oyJ5RNCSM3w
Keep us in your prayers!
For now, we're not sure what is going to happen next. Return to Guinea? We all hope so, but we're not sure if that is going to happen. If we don't, we'll be presented with options of continuing with Peace Corps. I'm not even sure what those options will be; I just have to wait. Lots of waiting.
From what I hear from my friends already at the site, it seems very nice, but spirits are low. Many people were not in their villages when this all happened and did not get a chance to say goodbye to their families. This is true for me; I'm hopeful that one of my neighbors took a bike ride over to my village to explain all of this.
For now, here are a few of the latest articles about the situation.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8298754.stm
Concerning when Dadis owns up to nothing and has no fear for the American:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/07/world/africa/07guinea.html?_r=1
He give an interview from his bed. He is the president of a country, in a situation where all eyes are on him. And he is in bed.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oyJ5RNCSM3w
Keep us in your prayers!
9.29.2009
Another Devastating Day for Guinea
Yesterday, I got a chance to go back to my alma mater, Elyria Catholic High School. I spent the school day speaking with junior and senior theology classes about my experiences in Guinea. I met some incredible young men and women, all curious about many elements of life in West Africa. It was a fun reunion with many of the teachers who were so formative in my own education.
While were were in the classroom in Elyria, back in Conakry, over 50,000 people came together to protest against the president of Guinea, Moussa Dadis Camara. When the Camara took over the presidency at Christmas, he stated that he would not run in the upcoming election. However, it is believed that he will run in the election set to happen early 2010. The military broke up the protest and in doing so, killed 150 people. All Peace Corps members are safe up in their villages; from the sounds of it, only Conakry has any opposition. Up country is the same as always. You can read about it on the BBC:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8280603.stm
I was set to return to Guinea today after spending three weeks home in Cleveland, however after talking to Peace Corps in Guinea, I am now waiting until Sunday. The people of Guinea are anxious about what the reaction to all of this will be. Hopefully by Sunday everyone will have a better sense of what is happening. So for now, all I can do is pray for those in Guinea and the families who are mourning.
While were were in the classroom in Elyria, back in Conakry, over 50,000 people came together to protest against the president of Guinea, Moussa Dadis Camara. When the Camara took over the presidency at Christmas, he stated that he would not run in the upcoming election. However, it is believed that he will run in the election set to happen early 2010. The military broke up the protest and in doing so, killed 150 people. All Peace Corps members are safe up in their villages; from the sounds of it, only Conakry has any opposition. Up country is the same as always. You can read about it on the BBC:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8280603.stm
I was set to return to Guinea today after spending three weeks home in Cleveland, however after talking to Peace Corps in Guinea, I am now waiting until Sunday. The people of Guinea are anxious about what the reaction to all of this will be. Hopefully by Sunday everyone will have a better sense of what is happening. So for now, all I can do is pray for those in Guinea and the families who are mourning.
9.23.2009
School Starts October 5th
First off, thanks for checking back in on mssamek; it has been too long. The past three months have been spent training the newest education volunteers - I have been teaching a group of 17 fantastic men and women how to be an effective teacher (or so I hope.) It has been a really fun experience for me; they swear in as official volunteers on Friday. Some of the perks of the job included working with some of my fellow volunteers as they came in for two-week periods, a trip to the waterfalls with the trainees, and a visit to Guinea's national museum. The best part of it all was getting to watch the trainees as they began practice school; their enthusiasm, work ethic, and ambition is what is going to make all of them excellent teachers.
The training began in July and after the second week of August, the trainees went off to visit their future villages for a week. While they were off seeing their future homes and meeting their new neighbors, I took a vacation from training and spent a week in Mali. Mali is another West African country that borders Guinea to the north. Mali is significantly more developed than Guinea and Larc, Carolina, and I all enjoyed the benefits of paved roads and 24-hour electricity. (Larc and Carolina are two fellow education volunteers in Guinea.) Our trip began in Bamako, the capital of Mali. Bamako is also the capital of West African music; we heard live music one night at a small outside venue.
The highlight of the trip was a three-day hike/trip to Dogon Country. Dogon Country is a region of Mali about 500km from Bamako. It is an area that stretches 150 miles along a sandstone cliff called the Bandiagara Escarpment. The Dogon people originally came to this area to escape the conversion to Islam. It is truly one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen; the homes are made of mud and the villages are beautifully decorated with carvings. In some of my photos, you can see settlements that are no longer inhabited; these were the homes of the Telem people - they were pygmy people and you can see their little homes in the cliffs of the Bandiagara. Most of the other villages are still occupied and people go about their daily lives as tourists from all over the worlds visit. People were incredibly friendly as just about everyone I have met in West Africa has been. There is a new photo album of this trip posted - be sure to check it out.
Ramadan has ended which means school will begin soon! October 5th is the day we're set to go back, inchallah (God willing.) Teacher are still waiting to be paid from last year, but I'm hopeful it will all get worked out in time.
August 10, 2009
August 10, 2009
President Obama recently spoke to the Ghanaian Parliament; as I read through, certain parts resonated with me as I begin my second year in Guinea. The following are just a few of my thoughts on some points of his speech.
We must start from the simple premise that Africa’s future is up to Africans…As for America and the West, our commitment must be measured by more than just the dollars we spend. I’ve pledged substantial increases in our foreign assistance, which is in Africa’s interests and America’s interests. But the true sign of success is not whether we are a source of perpetual aid that helps people scrape by – it’s whether we are partners in building the capacity for transformational change.
Being an American in Guinea – and not just any American but an American here with a primary goal of sustainability, this statement spoke very clearly to me. This idea is not always so transparent to many of the Guineans that myself and other Peace Corps volunteers work with; the way they see it, money comes from an endless source sitting high on the throne in the land called America. A strength of Peace Corps is the training they provide to volunteers and to Guinean counterparts that help all parties understand how a project is funded and evaluates the sustainability of the project. If a project is not one that will continue to support the community after the volunteer leaves, it is not a project we’re here to support. Teach a man to fish – that’s Peace Corps’ style although our projects are very small scale. Our greater objective which is often not understood is that we’re here for a cultural exchange; I envision many of the people I’m working with here in Guinea as volunteers to do big, great things someday with the knowledge they’ve gained and can only be gained by what work we’re doing here. Give a man a fish is so easy and undoubtedly so many have benefited from this philosophy in times of crisis; refugee situations would not be able to sustain without it. But Mr. Obama makes a necessary point about building capacity and I hope to continue to see strong programs that support this. Seeing all that I have in this year, I realize that it takes people with expertise to commit to these types of programs and that type of commitment is impressive for those who make it; those I’ve met working with water-related infrastructure projects or those working on AIDS or malaria research – that is commitment.
…each nation gives life to democracy in its own way, and in line with its own traditions. But history offers a clear verdict: Governments that respect the will of their own people, that govern by consent and not coercion are more prosperous, they are more stable, and more successful than governments that do not…No country is going to create wealth if its leaders exploit the economy to enrich themselves – or if police can be bought off by the drug traffickers. No business wants to invest in a place where the government skims 20 percent off the top – or the head of the Port Authority is corrupt. No person wants to live in a society where the rule of law gives way to the rule of brutality and bribery. That is not democracy’ that is tyranny, even if occasionally you sprinkle an election in there. And now is the time for that style of governance to end.
Now, make no mistake: History is on the side of these brave Africans, not with those who use coups or change constitutions to stay in power. Africa doesn’t need strongmen, it needs strong institutions.
Captain Moussa Dadis Camara…are you listening? Mr. Obama’s points here are exactly the types of things that cripple Guinea presently or historically. These remarks came on July 11th ; on July 8th Major Moussa Keita, a permanent secretary of the CNDD (the CNDD is the National Council for Democracy and Development and Dadis’ political party), made these following remarks at a rally to express support for the CNDD:
Clearly, not a statement made by a political party ready to surrender the presidency to a free and fair election. If you ask anyone here on any given day what the status of the election is, you will get responses from Dadis is going to step down for December elections to people beginning to embrace another 26 years of tyranny.
Now, we all have many identities – of tribe and ethnicity; of religion and nationality. But defining oneself in opposition to someone who belongs to a different tribe, or who worships a different prophet, has not place in the 21st century. Africa’s diversity should be a source of strength, not a cause for division. We are all God’s children. We all shared common aspirations – to live in peace and security; to access education and opportunity; to love our families and our communities and our faith. That is our common humanity.
I think about being here where there are eight ethnicities, all with their own languages and traditions, living harmoniously under the nationality “Guinean” and I am filled with joy. This harmony is not common among nations. My hope for Guinea is that among each other they can build the democracy Mr. Obama spoke of and use the harmony they have among each other to their advantage. This is their strength; they do not know to use it. Mr. Obama speaks here about common humanity and I feel Guineans do have a strong sense of this respect. Muslims live side-by-side with Christians; Malankes and Pules can live in the same neighborhood. I know very few Guineans that speak less than French and two local languages. The problem is poor governance; living in peace and security, accessing education and opportunity – the barrier to all of this is the corruption and lack of priority by the government.
Of course I say this with many of the gender equity issues in the back of my mind, but there is a true harmonious feeling that I know is unique and hard to change if a place lacks. No money and foreign aid could have built what they have.
“We are all God’s children” is something Guineans do feel and is evident in the way they treat one another and strangers. I like how Mr. Obama references God in his speech; for Africans, the idea of living your life without a belief in God is absurd, and the longer I am here the more I don’t understand my atheist co-volunteers. Appealing to Africans with a reference to God’s children makes a lot of sense in this context.
…I am particularly speaking to the young people all across Africa…here is what you must know: The world will be what you make of it. You have the power to hold your leaders accountable, and to build institutions that serve the people. You can serve in your communities, and harness your energy and education to create new wealth and build new connections to the world. You can conquer disease, and end conflicts, and make change from the bottom up. You can do that. Yes you can – because in this moment, history is on the move. But these things can only be done if all of you take responsibility for your future. And it won’t be easy. It will take time and effort. These will be suffering and setbacks. But I promise you this: America will be with you every step of the way – as a partner, as a friend. Opportunity won’t come from any other place, though. It must come from the decisions that all of you make, the things that you do, the hope that you hold in your heart.
I have a side that enjoys what some may call "cheesy" songs, quotes, or other cliché inspirational tidbits from Gandhi, Eleanor Roosevelt, Mark Twain, or any other often-quoted person. I think it is because I don’t have the words myself, and although the messages are simply stated, I find them necessary when I lose my optimistic spirit about justice, change, and progress. Great men and women have done many remarkable things and their words to me are inspiration. This closing statement by Mr. Obama is my new inspiration. I want to hang it in my classroom for my students back in the village. They love Barack Obama, and here he is speaking directly to them and that is just really cool. I couldn’t agree more with what he is saying, and for the youth of Guinea, it is going to be a long struggle. Their whole lives could be spent fighting for a democracy that will lead to opportunity for their future children. I really love how “America will be with you every step of the way – as a partner, as a friend.” I think about how a Guinean would interpret this word “friend,” and how here love to hold the hands of their friends. I don’t think that’s what Mr. Obama had in mind, but maybe holding the hand of a friend when they need it and knowing when to let go. I feel lucky that for these two years, I have the chance to represent America in this truly unique context. I’ve started the “where will I be a year from now” thought process, and know that no matter what I do or where I go, nothing will offer the chance to live in the village and teach students in this context.
President Obama recently spoke to the Ghanaian Parliament; as I read through, certain parts resonated with me as I begin my second year in Guinea. The following are just a few of my thoughts on some points of his speech.
We must start from the simple premise that Africa’s future is up to Africans…As for America and the West, our commitment must be measured by more than just the dollars we spend. I’ve pledged substantial increases in our foreign assistance, which is in Africa’s interests and America’s interests. But the true sign of success is not whether we are a source of perpetual aid that helps people scrape by – it’s whether we are partners in building the capacity for transformational change.
Being an American in Guinea – and not just any American but an American here with a primary goal of sustainability, this statement spoke very clearly to me. This idea is not always so transparent to many of the Guineans that myself and other Peace Corps volunteers work with; the way they see it, money comes from an endless source sitting high on the throne in the land called America. A strength of Peace Corps is the training they provide to volunteers and to Guinean counterparts that help all parties understand how a project is funded and evaluates the sustainability of the project. If a project is not one that will continue to support the community after the volunteer leaves, it is not a project we’re here to support. Teach a man to fish – that’s Peace Corps’ style although our projects are very small scale. Our greater objective which is often not understood is that we’re here for a cultural exchange; I envision many of the people I’m working with here in Guinea as volunteers to do big, great things someday with the knowledge they’ve gained and can only be gained by what work we’re doing here. Give a man a fish is so easy and undoubtedly so many have benefited from this philosophy in times of crisis; refugee situations would not be able to sustain without it. But Mr. Obama makes a necessary point about building capacity and I hope to continue to see strong programs that support this. Seeing all that I have in this year, I realize that it takes people with expertise to commit to these types of programs and that type of commitment is impressive for those who make it; those I’ve met working with water-related infrastructure projects or those working on AIDS or malaria research – that is commitment.
…each nation gives life to democracy in its own way, and in line with its own traditions. But history offers a clear verdict: Governments that respect the will of their own people, that govern by consent and not coercion are more prosperous, they are more stable, and more successful than governments that do not…No country is going to create wealth if its leaders exploit the economy to enrich themselves – or if police can be bought off by the drug traffickers. No business wants to invest in a place where the government skims 20 percent off the top – or the head of the Port Authority is corrupt. No person wants to live in a society where the rule of law gives way to the rule of brutality and bribery. That is not democracy’ that is tyranny, even if occasionally you sprinkle an election in there. And now is the time for that style of governance to end.
Now, make no mistake: History is on the side of these brave Africans, not with those who use coups or change constitutions to stay in power. Africa doesn’t need strongmen, it needs strong institutions.
Captain Moussa Dadis Camara…are you listening? Mr. Obama’s points here are exactly the types of things that cripple Guinea presently or historically. These remarks came on July 11th ; on July 8th Major Moussa Keita, a permanent secretary of the CNDD (the CNDD is the National Council for Democracy and Development and Dadis’ political party), made these following remarks at a rally to express support for the CNDD:
They want to impose Western-type of democracy on Guinea, a type of democracy that they had developed for two to three centuries now. They want to impose that type of democracy upon us in a year or even in six months. These are Machiavellian plans. They want to prevent Guineans from really moving into the direction of happiness for our nation. These is no other democracy than referring to the people. In whatever Dadis does, he refers to the people. But according to these people, democracy means giving power to those who had distanced themselves from the state or those who have been prepared mentally by the former colonial masters…We want to put in place all the necessary conditions for the economic takeoff of our country. That is our priority but some people keep telling us to hold the elections because it is Dadis who is in power. Is he not a Guinean citizen? Is he not a valiant and competent citizen? Therefore, Dadis or death! (‘Dadis or death’ was changed over and over.)
Clearly, not a statement made by a political party ready to surrender the presidency to a free and fair election. If you ask anyone here on any given day what the status of the election is, you will get responses from Dadis is going to step down for December elections to people beginning to embrace another 26 years of tyranny.
Now, we all have many identities – of tribe and ethnicity; of religion and nationality. But defining oneself in opposition to someone who belongs to a different tribe, or who worships a different prophet, has not place in the 21st century. Africa’s diversity should be a source of strength, not a cause for division. We are all God’s children. We all shared common aspirations – to live in peace and security; to access education and opportunity; to love our families and our communities and our faith. That is our common humanity.
I think about being here where there are eight ethnicities, all with their own languages and traditions, living harmoniously under the nationality “Guinean” and I am filled with joy. This harmony is not common among nations. My hope for Guinea is that among each other they can build the democracy Mr. Obama spoke of and use the harmony they have among each other to their advantage. This is their strength; they do not know to use it. Mr. Obama speaks here about common humanity and I feel Guineans do have a strong sense of this respect. Muslims live side-by-side with Christians; Malankes and Pules can live in the same neighborhood. I know very few Guineans that speak less than French and two local languages. The problem is poor governance; living in peace and security, accessing education and opportunity – the barrier to all of this is the corruption and lack of priority by the government.
Of course I say this with many of the gender equity issues in the back of my mind, but there is a true harmonious feeling that I know is unique and hard to change if a place lacks. No money and foreign aid could have built what they have.
“We are all God’s children” is something Guineans do feel and is evident in the way they treat one another and strangers. I like how Mr. Obama references God in his speech; for Africans, the idea of living your life without a belief in God is absurd, and the longer I am here the more I don’t understand my atheist co-volunteers. Appealing to Africans with a reference to God’s children makes a lot of sense in this context.
…I am particularly speaking to the young people all across Africa…here is what you must know: The world will be what you make of it. You have the power to hold your leaders accountable, and to build institutions that serve the people. You can serve in your communities, and harness your energy and education to create new wealth and build new connections to the world. You can conquer disease, and end conflicts, and make change from the bottom up. You can do that. Yes you can – because in this moment, history is on the move. But these things can only be done if all of you take responsibility for your future. And it won’t be easy. It will take time and effort. These will be suffering and setbacks. But I promise you this: America will be with you every step of the way – as a partner, as a friend. Opportunity won’t come from any other place, though. It must come from the decisions that all of you make, the things that you do, the hope that you hold in your heart.
I have a side that enjoys what some may call "cheesy" songs, quotes, or other cliché inspirational tidbits from Gandhi, Eleanor Roosevelt, Mark Twain, or any other often-quoted person. I think it is because I don’t have the words myself, and although the messages are simply stated, I find them necessary when I lose my optimistic spirit about justice, change, and progress. Great men and women have done many remarkable things and their words to me are inspiration. This closing statement by Mr. Obama is my new inspiration. I want to hang it in my classroom for my students back in the village. They love Barack Obama, and here he is speaking directly to them and that is just really cool. I couldn’t agree more with what he is saying, and for the youth of Guinea, it is going to be a long struggle. Their whole lives could be spent fighting for a democracy that will lead to opportunity for their future children. I really love how “America will be with you every step of the way – as a partner, as a friend.” I think about how a Guinean would interpret this word “friend,” and how here love to hold the hands of their friends. I don’t think that’s what Mr. Obama had in mind, but maybe holding the hand of a friend when they need it and knowing when to let go. I feel lucky that for these two years, I have the chance to represent America in this truly unique context. I’ve started the “where will I be a year from now” thought process, and know that no matter what I do or where I go, nothing will offer the chance to live in the village and teach students in this context.
7.06.2009
Preparing for the New Volunteers
Since getting back to Guinea in June, I've been working with fellow PCVs on planning sessions for the new volunteers. They will be arriving on Wednesday and we want their summer to be as productive and smooth as possible. All of us education volunteers know what went well last year and what needed work, so everyone has been pitching in ideas on how to improve things.
Last week, a group of us were at the training site and had a chance to really work side-by-side with our Guinean counterparts. Working with Guineans has been a valuable learning experience. Writing objectives, planning lessons, etc. is not new to me, and I want to just type and write and cross each session off the list of things to do - just keep cranking things out, even if it means working later than the usual hours. That's not exactly how Guineans work. But it was good for me to be forced to take time to really discuss as a group about how we are going to do things and gain new perspective on how Guineans view training teachers and their approach to teaching. Slowing down the pace is something I've been getting better at, yet once I was thrown back into the opportunity to write curriculum on my laptop, I just wanted to move as efficiently as possible.
Going back to the training site also meant getting a chance to see my host family from training which was a really wonderful reunion. Everyone is healthy and happy; the two older girls just took their exams to enter University. It was such a joy to see them again and I look forward to having some time with them this summer.
Last week, a group of us were at the training site and had a chance to really work side-by-side with our Guinean counterparts. Working with Guineans has been a valuable learning experience. Writing objectives, planning lessons, etc. is not new to me, and I want to just type and write and cross each session off the list of things to do - just keep cranking things out, even if it means working later than the usual hours. That's not exactly how Guineans work. But it was good for me to be forced to take time to really discuss as a group about how we are going to do things and gain new perspective on how Guineans view training teachers and their approach to teaching. Slowing down the pace is something I've been getting better at, yet once I was thrown back into the opportunity to write curriculum on my laptop, I just wanted to move as efficiently as possible.
Going back to the training site also meant getting a chance to see my host family from training which was a really wonderful reunion. Everyone is healthy and happy; the two older girls just took their exams to enter University. It was such a joy to see them again and I look forward to having some time with them this summer.
6.11.2009
DC - CLE - BOS and back to Guinea
On May 14th, I flew to Washington DC on what Peace Corps calls "medevac." I injured my knee playing basketball in January, and it needed to be taken care of with a simple procedure. Unfortunately, it could not be done in West Africa. The standards of modern medicine just aren't even close there to what we have available in the US. Peace Corps gives you 45 days to get to DC, have your medical "issue" resolved, get doctor's clearance to come back, and fly back to country. I was there for exactly four weeks, and as much as it was somewhat annoying to have to deal with a medical issue, I definitely embraced the opportunity to be home.
I started in DC for the surgery and then traveled to Cleveland, my hometown, to do my physical therapy. I also got a chance to sneak into Boston for a weekend, just in time to see my old Trinity Catholic students graduate. The entire trip home was just really incredible. Before I left Guinea, I was hearing all the stories of volunteers that don't make it within their 45 days; I was very anxious about leaving and perhaps not making back to Guinea in time. But it all worked out without a problem and the trip home was very refreshing. As much as it made me miss going to Tribe games in the summer, beautiful Boston Sundays, talking with students in a language that I can have a meaningful conversation, homemade meals, and conveniences of travel and everyday life, I was ready to get back to Guinea. As I approach the end of my first year in country, I feel this is where my life is for now and I'm ready to take on all the projects that are in store for the summer and do some traveling around West Africa.
I've uploaded some photos from before I left (April, May, and June 2009 album) - the first few are from the top of my mountain. Before I left, my host family was knocking at my door at 7am for photo shoots, as if taking photos at noon wasn't possible. My students stopped by say goodbye and request things from the United States. Also in the photo album are a few photos from the trip home.
I started in DC for the surgery and then traveled to Cleveland, my hometown, to do my physical therapy. I also got a chance to sneak into Boston for a weekend, just in time to see my old Trinity Catholic students graduate. The entire trip home was just really incredible. Before I left Guinea, I was hearing all the stories of volunteers that don't make it within their 45 days; I was very anxious about leaving and perhaps not making back to Guinea in time. But it all worked out without a problem and the trip home was very refreshing. As much as it made me miss going to Tribe games in the summer, beautiful Boston Sundays, talking with students in a language that I can have a meaningful conversation, homemade meals, and conveniences of travel and everyday life, I was ready to get back to Guinea. As I approach the end of my first year in country, I feel this is where my life is for now and I'm ready to take on all the projects that are in store for the summer and do some traveling around West Africa.
I've uploaded some photos from before I left (April, May, and June 2009 album) - the first few are from the top of my mountain. Before I left, my host family was knocking at my door at 7am for photo shoots, as if taking photos at noon wasn't possible. My students stopped by say goodbye and request things from the United States. Also in the photo album are a few photos from the trip home.
5.12.2009
Come on in!
I've added two new videos - the first is of my house if you'd like to take a tour. The second is of my 7th graders who wanted to say hello after the 9th graders got a chance to.
Also new is an entry and thoughts on packing for the new volunteers.
Go Cavs!
Also new is an entry and thoughts on packing for the new volunteers.
Go Cavs!
Winding Down the Second Semester
It is hard to believe that the first school year here in Guinea is wrapping up. The year has gone by fast and as with every school year, the end makes me reflect on the things I’d like to do differently for the next year and what was a success. The difference is that I find myself reflecting on these things in terms of school as well as in day-to-day village life. As much as I try to integrate into the community, I find myself making mistakes all the time, and more so now than before, I realize what it means to integrate as an American in a small West African village. My vision of what I thought it would be and what it is has many discrepancies.
One success has been English class. I have three classes; one is for my “honors” seventh graders (the 20 students that have good attendance and complete their homework), one for the ninth and tenth graders, and one for the teachers in the primary school and middle school. The English class was something the students and teachers started asking for when I arrived in September; their eagerness to learn has not faded and I hope it continues in the next school year as well. In Guinea, English as a Foreign Language begins in the eleventh grade, however many of the better jobs in the cities require some English. I hope, especially for my seventh graders, they have some sort of advantage when they get to high school. Being in the village seems to be an automatic disadvantage for many reasons; hopefully they’ll have a substantial English background by the time they get to high school.
The most enjoyable class for me has been, surprisingly for me, the course with the other teachers. I spent the first few months being so intimidated by initiating conversation with them since my French was so weak. It’s too bad I wasn’t a little braver because I’ve learned what a dynamic group of people my fellow teachers are. In Guinea, if you are a teacher, you get assigned to a school. You can try to request a city or bribe your way into a position, but most end up where they are assigned. For the teachers of my village, this means they have to leave their husbands, wives, and children in the cities of Conakry, Mamou, or Labe in order to come to the village. As you can imagine, this is not a coveted assignment. Among all the teachers, there are four houses most of them live in - one with the women, the others with the men. None of the teachers are originally from my village or any village nearby for that matter, some did not speak Pular (our local language) when they arrived in the village since they are originally from other parts of Guinea.
Most have been in Kourou for three to six years so far. Being non-villagers makes them somewhat of outsiders to the villagers. Within the village, everyone is family for the most part. I don’t think their exclusion is intended; they simply aren’t part of the family. Since they are all in the same situation, they have become sort of a family with each other – they all get along for the most part but fight like siblings. Lots of love, lots of dysfunctionality. They all share a common desire to get out of Kourou and teach in a city; that fate is left to the government. But since they’re all here, they both embrace it and complain about it everyday.
There are twelve that come on a regular basis to class. Imagine you and eleven of your friends in class together where you inevitably will make lots of mistakes since you are speaking a foreign language. They laugh at each other, laugh at themselves, and we all have a really fun time. My experience with French thus far has not been my favorite part of this experience; I do not enjoy always feeling inadequate or incapable of truly functioning within the community. And I don’t like always feeling so vulnerable. Being with them two nights a week were they open themselves up to making mistakes has made me a little more comfortable with being a novice myself. I am very grateful for their patience.
Since Christmas, I feel like I’ve become more comfortable with village life and as I type this today, I can say I really enjoy it and it is making the Peace Corps experience one I am glad to be involved in. In September, I was so excited to cook for myself, disappointed that I did not have phone service, concerned about how I would get to the internet, and constantly questioning what the heck I was doing with myself here. But as I’ve adapted to life here, I’m finding that I’m finally really happy with the decision to be here. The way to really adapt was to give up cooking for myself. Once that happened, everything seemed to fall into place. Sitting around the fires, watching my host family prepare the meal has made my local language much better. Eating with the family for lunch and dinner has diminished loneliness. The cooking and eating all of my meals Guinean style has opened others up to being more comfortable with me too. They see me eating as they do, cooking with them, and that’s all it really takes for people to then be okay with the American. I know I’m also getting to know people better as time goes on as well, but I feel like food has been the catalyst for acceptance. And as for the phone and internet, to tell you the truth, being off the grid is not so bad. A new phone service came to my village and I’m not so disappointed anymore that it doesn’t reach my house although glad I no longer have to climb the mountain to get service.
Towards the end of the school year, I started to visit students at their homes to meet their parents. One village is an hour’s walk away (and these students aren’t the furthest from school!) For me, the intrigue of this village is that all of my students from this village tend to be the hardest workers and brightest ones. This village has a primary school so I wanted to see what was going on here that was different from the primary school in my village. After spending time with the parents and eating lots and lots of food, I got a chance to talk with the teacher that taught these students fifth and sixth grade. His demeanor was very optimistic and happy to be a teacher. He told me about how he runs his classroom, how he gives his students work to do at home, and most importantly, accountability. I left this village that evening with fifty mangos, twenty avocados, peanuts, dried manioc, and a live chicken as gifts from the mothers of the students. It was a very fun day and gave me new insight on primary school attitudes.
As for being a Peace Corps volunteer, there is a pretty good chance that if I wasn’t here, my students would not have math class (the other two middle schools in the area can’t get someone to come to the village to teach. Like I mentioned earlier, no one wants to come to the village.) I can say I’m “doing” that – teaching math and English. But as for the rest of what I “do,” I’m not quite sure what to put on the list. I’m involved in lots of cultural exchange. I am an American that is different than the American faces Guineans associate with Americans – the celebrities. I hope my American values of education, gender equity, and hard work have made some sort of impact on the students and villagers. The rest of what I “do” is learn. Since wanting to be a teacher, I have been so curious about public education outside of the U.S., and living in the village, teaching in the middle school, making friends with Guineans has taught me so much about this. Learning about West African culture has been so interesting and so valuable. Some of my fellow Peace Corps Volunteers are so productive with projects they’re starting – they’re lists of things their “doing” are long and interesting. As someone who has always like to have a long list of “things I do” or accomplishments, for the first time I’m finding myself taking the “less is more” approach to life. And surprisingly, I’m enjoying it. I spend a significant time during my week doing schoolwork, but for the rest of it, I spend my time among people of the village. I learn more than I give on a daily basis. I imagined myself “doing” all sorts of “things” to contribute to the community, but realize that just “being” does a lot on its own. Peace Corps as an organization has its strenghts and weaknesses, but as far as me wanting to teach in another country, it has been a great fit.
As for the summer, the next group of education volunteers is coming to town in July. I’ll be working with my boss to improve the training for this group and then directly working with the new volunteers. We have a couple of conferences this summer – one in June where we volunteers will be trained on how to give lessons on HIV/AIDS, excision, and other health-related issues. The other is in July; it is a girls’ conference when each volunteers brings a motivated girl to a week-long conference on a wide range of topics. School starts again at the end of September. Hopefully I’ll get to do some traveling around Guinea and West Africa.
One success has been English class. I have three classes; one is for my “honors” seventh graders (the 20 students that have good attendance and complete their homework), one for the ninth and tenth graders, and one for the teachers in the primary school and middle school. The English class was something the students and teachers started asking for when I arrived in September; their eagerness to learn has not faded and I hope it continues in the next school year as well. In Guinea, English as a Foreign Language begins in the eleventh grade, however many of the better jobs in the cities require some English. I hope, especially for my seventh graders, they have some sort of advantage when they get to high school. Being in the village seems to be an automatic disadvantage for many reasons; hopefully they’ll have a substantial English background by the time they get to high school.
The most enjoyable class for me has been, surprisingly for me, the course with the other teachers. I spent the first few months being so intimidated by initiating conversation with them since my French was so weak. It’s too bad I wasn’t a little braver because I’ve learned what a dynamic group of people my fellow teachers are. In Guinea, if you are a teacher, you get assigned to a school. You can try to request a city or bribe your way into a position, but most end up where they are assigned. For the teachers of my village, this means they have to leave their husbands, wives, and children in the cities of Conakry, Mamou, or Labe in order to come to the village. As you can imagine, this is not a coveted assignment. Among all the teachers, there are four houses most of them live in - one with the women, the others with the men. None of the teachers are originally from my village or any village nearby for that matter, some did not speak Pular (our local language) when they arrived in the village since they are originally from other parts of Guinea.
Most have been in Kourou for three to six years so far. Being non-villagers makes them somewhat of outsiders to the villagers. Within the village, everyone is family for the most part. I don’t think their exclusion is intended; they simply aren’t part of the family. Since they are all in the same situation, they have become sort of a family with each other – they all get along for the most part but fight like siblings. Lots of love, lots of dysfunctionality. They all share a common desire to get out of Kourou and teach in a city; that fate is left to the government. But since they’re all here, they both embrace it and complain about it everyday.
There are twelve that come on a regular basis to class. Imagine you and eleven of your friends in class together where you inevitably will make lots of mistakes since you are speaking a foreign language. They laugh at each other, laugh at themselves, and we all have a really fun time. My experience with French thus far has not been my favorite part of this experience; I do not enjoy always feeling inadequate or incapable of truly functioning within the community. And I don’t like always feeling so vulnerable. Being with them two nights a week were they open themselves up to making mistakes has made me a little more comfortable with being a novice myself. I am very grateful for their patience.
Since Christmas, I feel like I’ve become more comfortable with village life and as I type this today, I can say I really enjoy it and it is making the Peace Corps experience one I am glad to be involved in. In September, I was so excited to cook for myself, disappointed that I did not have phone service, concerned about how I would get to the internet, and constantly questioning what the heck I was doing with myself here. But as I’ve adapted to life here, I’m finding that I’m finally really happy with the decision to be here. The way to really adapt was to give up cooking for myself. Once that happened, everything seemed to fall into place. Sitting around the fires, watching my host family prepare the meal has made my local language much better. Eating with the family for lunch and dinner has diminished loneliness. The cooking and eating all of my meals Guinean style has opened others up to being more comfortable with me too. They see me eating as they do, cooking with them, and that’s all it really takes for people to then be okay with the American. I know I’m also getting to know people better as time goes on as well, but I feel like food has been the catalyst for acceptance. And as for the phone and internet, to tell you the truth, being off the grid is not so bad. A new phone service came to my village and I’m not so disappointed anymore that it doesn’t reach my house although glad I no longer have to climb the mountain to get service.
Towards the end of the school year, I started to visit students at their homes to meet their parents. One village is an hour’s walk away (and these students aren’t the furthest from school!) For me, the intrigue of this village is that all of my students from this village tend to be the hardest workers and brightest ones. This village has a primary school so I wanted to see what was going on here that was different from the primary school in my village. After spending time with the parents and eating lots and lots of food, I got a chance to talk with the teacher that taught these students fifth and sixth grade. His demeanor was very optimistic and happy to be a teacher. He told me about how he runs his classroom, how he gives his students work to do at home, and most importantly, accountability. I left this village that evening with fifty mangos, twenty avocados, peanuts, dried manioc, and a live chicken as gifts from the mothers of the students. It was a very fun day and gave me new insight on primary school attitudes.
As for being a Peace Corps volunteer, there is a pretty good chance that if I wasn’t here, my students would not have math class (the other two middle schools in the area can’t get someone to come to the village to teach. Like I mentioned earlier, no one wants to come to the village.) I can say I’m “doing” that – teaching math and English. But as for the rest of what I “do,” I’m not quite sure what to put on the list. I’m involved in lots of cultural exchange. I am an American that is different than the American faces Guineans associate with Americans – the celebrities. I hope my American values of education, gender equity, and hard work have made some sort of impact on the students and villagers. The rest of what I “do” is learn. Since wanting to be a teacher, I have been so curious about public education outside of the U.S., and living in the village, teaching in the middle school, making friends with Guineans has taught me so much about this. Learning about West African culture has been so interesting and so valuable. Some of my fellow Peace Corps Volunteers are so productive with projects they’re starting – they’re lists of things their “doing” are long and interesting. As someone who has always like to have a long list of “things I do” or accomplishments, for the first time I’m finding myself taking the “less is more” approach to life. And surprisingly, I’m enjoying it. I spend a significant time during my week doing schoolwork, but for the rest of it, I spend my time among people of the village. I learn more than I give on a daily basis. I imagined myself “doing” all sorts of “things” to contribute to the community, but realize that just “being” does a lot on its own. Peace Corps as an organization has its strenghts and weaknesses, but as far as me wanting to teach in another country, it has been a great fit.
As for the summer, the next group of education volunteers is coming to town in July. I’ll be working with my boss to improve the training for this group and then directly working with the new volunteers. We have a couple of conferences this summer – one in June where we volunteers will be trained on how to give lessons on HIV/AIDS, excision, and other health-related issues. The other is in July; it is a girls’ conference when each volunteers brings a motivated girl to a week-long conference on a wide range of topics. School starts again at the end of September. Hopefully I’ll get to do some traveling around Guinea and West Africa.
4.16.2009
G-18 in July
The next education group (G-18) is coming to Guinea in July. The current teachers are excited to meet the new group and work with them this summer. We know that when we were packing, we checked out other blogs for ideas on packing or general questions, so if you are a future Guinea education volunteer, here are some things we're glad we have and the truth about cell phones and care packages.
Pack this:
1. Ipod and battery-operated speakers (batteries are cheap in the markets here although they are cheap in quality too...but they work just fine)
2. Solio to charge your ipod and your cell phone (the solios come with a Nokia charger tip and the most popular cheap phone here is a Nokia...so it works.) Most volunteers in Guinea do not have electricity (or running water for that matter.) Most volunteers do have cell phone service somewhere within a bikable or hikable distance, and more and more volunteers are getting service. A month ago I got service in my village (not in my house, but I no longer have hike a hill for service!) And you just never know when that tower might arrive - that's the fun of Guinea. (I have the Solio H1000 - and I have charged it everyday I've been at site. Its a great product!) Still bring your wall charger for when you're around electricity.
3. Headlamp - especially as a teacher. Grading the papers after the sunset...the headlamp is the only way to go. And bring your headlamp on any trip you take in Guinea; the electricity all around is unreliable.
As for everything else, you can find in Guinea. No kidding. But there are those things I appreciate that I brought, like my clothes. Some people embrace the African fashions and numerous second-hand markets; I'm glad for my tshirts, underwear and bras, and skirts made of cotton. Other things I'm glad I have:
School "stuff":
4. School clothes: I wear a white blouse (I brought them from the States) and a skirt everyday to school along with a pair of Merrell Mary Janes. I'm not a fan of the line of all-terrain shoes that are trying to look fashionable, but I'm glad I have a pair for school. Skirts for school need to be in-between calves and ankles. I've had some skirts made here; if you have one good one, you can take it to a tailor and have it copied. Men generally wear button down shirts with pants and shoes. Some go the very "Peace Corps" route with their attire, but it is appreciated if you dress nice.
5. A calculator. A scientific calculator will do just fine; I use my graphing calculator once in a while but its not necessary. I thought I'd use them more often for demonstrations but for the curriculum we're teaching, its not worth bringing it. All teachers need them for calculating grades.
6. I brought Ward gradebook; not necessary at all but I like having it. Actually, I have the lesson plan grade book combo book. Really, you can just create one with a ruler and a Guinean notebook like the other teachers do. Since I started teaching after college, I always had an electronic gradebook so I was sort of excited to kick it old-school with the old-fashioned gradebook. Like I said, not really necessary.
7. A good pair of scissors and real scotch tape. If some of my fellow PCVs saw "real scotch tape" on the list they'd wonder what the heck one does with scotch tape in Guinea. But I use it all the time to hang things in my house. Its the only thing that works.
8. Sharpies. I use the big ones for flipcharts; I use the smaller ones for other lessons. The permenant markers are crap here.
9. A 6-pocket expanding folder. I need it to stay organized with collecting homework and handing it back. Other volunteers say they brought one and never use it. Everyone has their own system.
10. As far as school supplies, you can easily get notebooks and pens. If you want to bring extra things for your classroom, as a math teacher, rulers, protractors, and compasses are the most useful.
"Non-school" stuff:
11. I brought a hammock that I use often. Lots of people bought them here too.
12. Coloring books and a few boxes of crayons. They're a good icebreaker with the new neighborhood kids.
13. During the first couple of months, you will be in a homestay with a family. You want to bring gifts for them; nothing expensive or excessive is necessary, but something to say thanks and from the states is greatly appreciated. Ideas: playing cards, marbles, soccer ball, earrings, baseball hats with your home team, cleveland cavs tshirts, bracelets, anything with a photo of scenes of the US, extra photos of your family that you can leave with them (I know that sounds odd, but they wanted to keep my photos.) Candy. I had a great host family with a wide range of ages so bring extras. You can always use them in your village. Also a fun activity I did with my host family was movie night with my laptop. Movies that have a French dubbing option are great; even though the young kids don't understand, the teenagers will (and it is good for your language training.) They loved Goonies. I think animated ones would work well - Shrek or Finding Nemo.
14. A world map and a United States map. You can find them in Conakry but I wished I'd had them during homestay.
15. A pair of sturdy flipflops. Many volunteers took advantage of the Chaco discount; if you scan your invitation letter you can get 50% off. I did not do this but I'm happy with my reefs. The sandals here in the market are cheap but fall apart real quick.
16. A couple of books. The books people bring get passed around in training and the regional capitals have so many books. Don't pack more than 3 or 4 books.
17. A basketball, soccerball, or a volleyball if you like to play these sports. And a pump. Or a frisbee.
18. Bike gel seat. I don't have one but other volunteers swear by them.
19. A good kitchen knife. Most here don't really cut things.
20. Ziplock bags. I use for lots of food stuff and when I go to the market. Anytime someone sends a care package, request things in ziplocks and if you're a female, tampons. Or you can go the Diva Cup route.
21. A good pair of shoes that you can hike in. Those, school shoes, and a pair of tennis shoes if you like to run or play basketball. Guineans run and play soccer in jellies...so you can always try that out too. Other than those, its flip flops!
Peace Corps gives you a list of things to bring like tolietries for when you first get here. Bring the things on that list. Things on other lists that they say to bring like a can opener, a garlic press, seeds to grow stuff, spices - that's up to you and whether or not you'll cook. You can find the seeds and spices in Conakry. Can opener and press - I'm sure you can find them in Conakry too. Before you know it, those things will just sit on the shelf anyways 'cause you start to eat rice and sauce three times a day.
As far as care packages go, Peace Corps will give you the address (its the same as the one on this blog, just change the name!) Some say that writing in red is the best way to assure your package makes it here, some say religious symbols help so Guineans won't rummage through the package before it gets to you. Definitely never have anything that can't be replaced in them or anything expensive. There are flat rate boxes at the post office that seem to be the way most people get packages - lots of stuff fits in them. But not all packages make it, so just be prepared. It is disappointing! I've had 3 so far that have not made it that I know of. I'd say the most popular and coveted care package item is bacon/beef jerky/pepperoni. And letters...well I have no idea how many haven't made it but I know its a lot. If you have someone that is going to write you often, have them number the letters then you will know if one (or five) is missing. Bring US stamps to send your letters home - the postal service here isn't too bad but hard to use if you're not near a regional capital. There is always someone going back to the states, whether its a volunteer or a family member or friend of a volunteer.
As for the rest:
1. The laptop - totally up to you. Lots of people have them and are glad they do. Load it up before you go - everyone here will want the newest seasons of shows and movies :)
2. Camping stuff - I'd say that most people do not use the stuff they brought. The cool "camping" type of trips here consist of hikes where there is a lodging option. There are a few of those hard-core volunteers that use their things.
Hope this helps...happy packing. We can't wait to meet you! And if you have any questions, there is a facebook group for Peace Corps Guinea or you can post them to me and I can email you back! Good luck!
Pack this:
1. Ipod and battery-operated speakers (batteries are cheap in the markets here although they are cheap in quality too...but they work just fine)
2. Solio to charge your ipod and your cell phone (the solios come with a Nokia charger tip and the most popular cheap phone here is a Nokia...so it works.) Most volunteers in Guinea do not have electricity (or running water for that matter.) Most volunteers do have cell phone service somewhere within a bikable or hikable distance, and more and more volunteers are getting service. A month ago I got service in my village (not in my house, but I no longer have hike a hill for service!) And you just never know when that tower might arrive - that's the fun of Guinea. (I have the Solio H1000 - and I have charged it everyday I've been at site. Its a great product!) Still bring your wall charger for when you're around electricity.
3. Headlamp - especially as a teacher. Grading the papers after the sunset...the headlamp is the only way to go. And bring your headlamp on any trip you take in Guinea; the electricity all around is unreliable.
As for everything else, you can find in Guinea. No kidding. But there are those things I appreciate that I brought, like my clothes. Some people embrace the African fashions and numerous second-hand markets; I'm glad for my tshirts, underwear and bras, and skirts made of cotton. Other things I'm glad I have:
School "stuff":
4. School clothes: I wear a white blouse (I brought them from the States) and a skirt everyday to school along with a pair of Merrell Mary Janes. I'm not a fan of the line of all-terrain shoes that are trying to look fashionable, but I'm glad I have a pair for school. Skirts for school need to be in-between calves and ankles. I've had some skirts made here; if you have one good one, you can take it to a tailor and have it copied. Men generally wear button down shirts with pants and shoes. Some go the very "Peace Corps" route with their attire, but it is appreciated if you dress nice.
5. A calculator. A scientific calculator will do just fine; I use my graphing calculator once in a while but its not necessary. I thought I'd use them more often for demonstrations but for the curriculum we're teaching, its not worth bringing it. All teachers need them for calculating grades.
6. I brought Ward gradebook; not necessary at all but I like having it. Actually, I have the lesson plan grade book combo book. Really, you can just create one with a ruler and a Guinean notebook like the other teachers do. Since I started teaching after college, I always had an electronic gradebook so I was sort of excited to kick it old-school with the old-fashioned gradebook. Like I said, not really necessary.
7. A good pair of scissors and real scotch tape. If some of my fellow PCVs saw "real scotch tape" on the list they'd wonder what the heck one does with scotch tape in Guinea. But I use it all the time to hang things in my house. Its the only thing that works.
8. Sharpies. I use the big ones for flipcharts; I use the smaller ones for other lessons. The permenant markers are crap here.
9. A 6-pocket expanding folder. I need it to stay organized with collecting homework and handing it back. Other volunteers say they brought one and never use it. Everyone has their own system.
10. As far as school supplies, you can easily get notebooks and pens. If you want to bring extra things for your classroom, as a math teacher, rulers, protractors, and compasses are the most useful.
"Non-school" stuff:
11. I brought a hammock that I use often. Lots of people bought them here too.
12. Coloring books and a few boxes of crayons. They're a good icebreaker with the new neighborhood kids.
13. During the first couple of months, you will be in a homestay with a family. You want to bring gifts for them; nothing expensive or excessive is necessary, but something to say thanks and from the states is greatly appreciated. Ideas: playing cards, marbles, soccer ball, earrings, baseball hats with your home team, cleveland cavs tshirts, bracelets, anything with a photo of scenes of the US, extra photos of your family that you can leave with them (I know that sounds odd, but they wanted to keep my photos.) Candy. I had a great host family with a wide range of ages so bring extras. You can always use them in your village. Also a fun activity I did with my host family was movie night with my laptop. Movies that have a French dubbing option are great; even though the young kids don't understand, the teenagers will (and it is good for your language training.) They loved Goonies. I think animated ones would work well - Shrek or Finding Nemo.
14. A world map and a United States map. You can find them in Conakry but I wished I'd had them during homestay.
15. A pair of sturdy flipflops. Many volunteers took advantage of the Chaco discount; if you scan your invitation letter you can get 50% off. I did not do this but I'm happy with my reefs. The sandals here in the market are cheap but fall apart real quick.
16. A couple of books. The books people bring get passed around in training and the regional capitals have so many books. Don't pack more than 3 or 4 books.
17. A basketball, soccerball, or a volleyball if you like to play these sports. And a pump. Or a frisbee.
18. Bike gel seat. I don't have one but other volunteers swear by them.
19. A good kitchen knife. Most here don't really cut things.
20. Ziplock bags. I use for lots of food stuff and when I go to the market. Anytime someone sends a care package, request things in ziplocks and if you're a female, tampons. Or you can go the Diva Cup route.
21. A good pair of shoes that you can hike in. Those, school shoes, and a pair of tennis shoes if you like to run or play basketball. Guineans run and play soccer in jellies...so you can always try that out too. Other than those, its flip flops!
Peace Corps gives you a list of things to bring like tolietries for when you first get here. Bring the things on that list. Things on other lists that they say to bring like a can opener, a garlic press, seeds to grow stuff, spices - that's up to you and whether or not you'll cook. You can find the seeds and spices in Conakry. Can opener and press - I'm sure you can find them in Conakry too. Before you know it, those things will just sit on the shelf anyways 'cause you start to eat rice and sauce three times a day.
As far as care packages go, Peace Corps will give you the address (its the same as the one on this blog, just change the name!) Some say that writing in red is the best way to assure your package makes it here, some say religious symbols help so Guineans won't rummage through the package before it gets to you. Definitely never have anything that can't be replaced in them or anything expensive. There are flat rate boxes at the post office that seem to be the way most people get packages - lots of stuff fits in them. But not all packages make it, so just be prepared. It is disappointing! I've had 3 so far that have not made it that I know of. I'd say the most popular and coveted care package item is bacon/beef jerky/pepperoni. And letters...well I have no idea how many haven't made it but I know its a lot. If you have someone that is going to write you often, have them number the letters then you will know if one (or five) is missing. Bring US stamps to send your letters home - the postal service here isn't too bad but hard to use if you're not near a regional capital. There is always someone going back to the states, whether its a volunteer or a family member or friend of a volunteer.
As for the rest:
1. The laptop - totally up to you. Lots of people have them and are glad they do. Load it up before you go - everyone here will want the newest seasons of shows and movies :)
2. Camping stuff - I'd say that most people do not use the stuff they brought. The cool "camping" type of trips here consist of hikes where there is a lodging option. There are a few of those hard-core volunteers that use their things.
Hope this helps...happy packing. We can't wait to meet you! And if you have any questions, there is a facebook group for Peace Corps Guinea or you can post them to me and I can email you back! Good luck!
4.08.2009
More Photos
I've just uploaded another photo album - February and March 2009 as well as another video. My 9th graders were waiting for the 10th graders to join us for English class; they wanted to say hello to the students back in Boston. And to Barak Obama.
4.04.2009
Breaking into My House with the Head of Security
Hello from Guinea! Sorry its been so long!
Most of the Education volunteers are in Conakry this week relaxing and catching up with one another. Spring break started Wednesday for me and I traveled to the capital yesterday with three other volunteers. I had a brief flash of the Christmas coup and not getting to come to Conakry for the break: getting out of my village is tough but the Peace Corps head of security, Yamma, was visiting my village on Thursday as part of her tour of my region of Guinea (just a check to make sure things are going well) so I was going to leave the village with her. I had my house ready for visitors and was waiting for her at my neighbors who were cooking for all of us. Yamma arrived and we made our way to my house. It was an extremely windy day, and when we arrived at my door, we found I was locked out of my house. The wind had blown my double doors shut and blew so hard that the pins in the bottom of the door (the pins that provide "extra security" in addition to the lock) had fallen into the floor, locking the door from the inside. It was quite a scene - Yamma, the driver, me, and 10 of my neighbors with an assortment of tools, rocks, sticks, spoons, and knives trying to pry the door and pop the pins. Lots of ideas were thrown around, and Yamma just keep repeating "your house is very secure. Very secure. I'm not worried about you!" as we tried to break in. After an hour, we decided we needed the carpenter because we couldn't break in, which meant I was not going to Conakry anytime soon (the carpenter is a few villages over, so it would take a while to get him, break the door and then fix it again and Yamma had to leave to get to the next village.) It was just like Christmas break...a dead president, a locked door...there's always something keeping me from Conakry! While we were beginning to eat, the driver and one of my students who came to assess the situation went back over and somehow got it open. So I made it here after all.
I'm working on uploading all sorts of things; photos, videos, and stories. For now, check out two new videos. One is the market in my village. Since I'm in such a small village, I have a very small market! The other is lunchtime chez moi. I eat with the family next door. The girls come to my door each day to let me know its time to eat. Lately I've been too slow to come over so now they tell me to hurry up! You'll notice in both that there is more Pulaar than French. Do I understand? Most of it. Do I speak it? Very little. Also is a slideshow - "The Proclamation"...story to follow.
More to come over the next couple of days...so visit again soon!
Most of the Education volunteers are in Conakry this week relaxing and catching up with one another. Spring break started Wednesday for me and I traveled to the capital yesterday with three other volunteers. I had a brief flash of the Christmas coup and not getting to come to Conakry for the break: getting out of my village is tough but the Peace Corps head of security, Yamma, was visiting my village on Thursday as part of her tour of my region of Guinea (just a check to make sure things are going well) so I was going to leave the village with her. I had my house ready for visitors and was waiting for her at my neighbors who were cooking for all of us. Yamma arrived and we made our way to my house. It was an extremely windy day, and when we arrived at my door, we found I was locked out of my house. The wind had blown my double doors shut and blew so hard that the pins in the bottom of the door (the pins that provide "extra security" in addition to the lock) had fallen into the floor, locking the door from the inside. It was quite a scene - Yamma, the driver, me, and 10 of my neighbors with an assortment of tools, rocks, sticks, spoons, and knives trying to pry the door and pop the pins. Lots of ideas were thrown around, and Yamma just keep repeating "your house is very secure. Very secure. I'm not worried about you!" as we tried to break in. After an hour, we decided we needed the carpenter because we couldn't break in, which meant I was not going to Conakry anytime soon (the carpenter is a few villages over, so it would take a while to get him, break the door and then fix it again and Yamma had to leave to get to the next village.) It was just like Christmas break...a dead president, a locked door...there's always something keeping me from Conakry! While we were beginning to eat, the driver and one of my students who came to assess the situation went back over and somehow got it open. So I made it here after all.
I'm working on uploading all sorts of things; photos, videos, and stories. For now, check out two new videos. One is the market in my village. Since I'm in such a small village, I have a very small market! The other is lunchtime chez moi. I eat with the family next door. The girls come to my door each day to let me know its time to eat. Lately I've been too slow to come over so now they tell me to hurry up! You'll notice in both that there is more Pulaar than French. Do I understand? Most of it. Do I speak it? Very little. Also is a slideshow - "The Proclamation"...story to follow.
More to come over the next couple of days...so visit again soon!
2.05.2009
January 31, 2009 - The Rest of January
Along with the cold, there has been lots of other happenings here in the village since coming back from Paris. I arrived back on a Monday night and showed up back to school on Tuesday morning and was the only one there. I guess this is the way it happens, no one shows up the week after the official vacation, teachers included.
There was a Fete that Wednesday; from what I understand it was a New Year's Fete. I walked 5km with the ladies of my village to a neighboring village to dance to a band from Conakry (see the photos under my profile.) The band played and announced each village; when he announced your village you had to go to the center and dance, but ladies only. It was another one of those events where people were just waiting to see what I did. There was nothing to do but dance! And I must admit, I've earned some "street cred" or should I say "market cred" with the ladies. Show a few dance moves and you're part of the gang.
Once school finally resumed, we were back to business as usual. We had two weeks to continue lessons and then there were the midterm exams. Back at Trinity, midterm time was one of my favorite times of year - kids studying and reviewing in the days leading up to the exam, teachers trying to put together the ultimate test. I felt that midterm vibe in the days leading up to my exam as I prepared my exam in my house on flipchart paper. The Guinean teachers write their exam on the board while the students sit outside. I find this method takes away from test-taking time (and I was going to be in Mamou for a Peace Corps training session on the day of my exam.) My principal and the other math teacher stopped by to visit and it just felt like midterms were in the air. I am anxious to see how they did once I get back to the village.
For Inauguration Day, I was saving some care-package pasta and a mini bottle of French wine to eat while I was savoring speech and the talk of day on the BBC. I was in the market that day when one of the other teachers asked if I was coming to the house where they were going to SHOW the inauguration. As excited as I was, I knew not to get too excited. And I knew to come prepared in case it didn't work. Sure enough, I showed up and no one else was there, even after I explained multiple times about what time we had to be there. I had my radio and listened to the whole thing. When everyone else arrived about a half-hour later, we watched highlights on France24. It was still really exciting to be able to see some of it on TV. Every time they scanned the crowd on TV the Guineans would say "Hey Allah" which is like saying "oh my God!" They were really excited about it all and hearing the speech dubbed in French.
The last happening of January is one that I've avoided writing about (I think - sometimes I think about a blog I'd write and then I don't.) The first Tuesday I was back to school, the vice principal stood outside my classroom door waiting for late students. When they arrived he would whip them with a stick he had picked up along the way to school. It breaks my heart every single time. It is a Peace Corps interview question - corporal punishment - so I knew that it was bound to be a part of my school life. But there isn't a way to mentally prepare oneself for those first beatings. Hearing the kids squeal, hearing the stick crack against them - it is awful. It is a distraction for everyone; no one is listening to me and I don't even know what I'm saying. It starts with the primary school students; they hit their calves whereas with my older kids they hit them anywhere. It is a cultural norm I just can't wrap my mind around. I try to talk about what we do in the States when students are late or how we punish students. The other teachers listen but beatings and humiliation seem to be the only tactics they are willing to use. The worst beatings are ones I hear in the 6th grade classroom when students give wrong answers. Honest mistakes result in getting hit. The sixth grade teacher is a jerk in general but that is just awful. For me, one of the hardest things is that I just can't have the rational conversation with the other teachers because my French just doesn't get the point across. But I'm working on it. It is just a hard topic in general to try to bring up since it such a part of the culture and how school has been done for so many years.
There was a Fete that Wednesday; from what I understand it was a New Year's Fete. I walked 5km with the ladies of my village to a neighboring village to dance to a band from Conakry (see the photos under my profile.) The band played and announced each village; when he announced your village you had to go to the center and dance, but ladies only. It was another one of those events where people were just waiting to see what I did. There was nothing to do but dance! And I must admit, I've earned some "street cred" or should I say "market cred" with the ladies. Show a few dance moves and you're part of the gang.
Once school finally resumed, we were back to business as usual. We had two weeks to continue lessons and then there were the midterm exams. Back at Trinity, midterm time was one of my favorite times of year - kids studying and reviewing in the days leading up to the exam, teachers trying to put together the ultimate test. I felt that midterm vibe in the days leading up to my exam as I prepared my exam in my house on flipchart paper. The Guinean teachers write their exam on the board while the students sit outside. I find this method takes away from test-taking time (and I was going to be in Mamou for a Peace Corps training session on the day of my exam.) My principal and the other math teacher stopped by to visit and it just felt like midterms were in the air. I am anxious to see how they did once I get back to the village.
For Inauguration Day, I was saving some care-package pasta and a mini bottle of French wine to eat while I was savoring speech and the talk of day on the BBC. I was in the market that day when one of the other teachers asked if I was coming to the house where they were going to SHOW the inauguration. As excited as I was, I knew not to get too excited. And I knew to come prepared in case it didn't work. Sure enough, I showed up and no one else was there, even after I explained multiple times about what time we had to be there. I had my radio and listened to the whole thing. When everyone else arrived about a half-hour later, we watched highlights on France24. It was still really exciting to be able to see some of it on TV. Every time they scanned the crowd on TV the Guineans would say "Hey Allah" which is like saying "oh my God!" They were really excited about it all and hearing the speech dubbed in French.
The last happening of January is one that I've avoided writing about (I think - sometimes I think about a blog I'd write and then I don't.) The first Tuesday I was back to school, the vice principal stood outside my classroom door waiting for late students. When they arrived he would whip them with a stick he had picked up along the way to school. It breaks my heart every single time. It is a Peace Corps interview question - corporal punishment - so I knew that it was bound to be a part of my school life. But there isn't a way to mentally prepare oneself for those first beatings. Hearing the kids squeal, hearing the stick crack against them - it is awful. It is a distraction for everyone; no one is listening to me and I don't even know what I'm saying. It starts with the primary school students; they hit their calves whereas with my older kids they hit them anywhere. It is a cultural norm I just can't wrap my mind around. I try to talk about what we do in the States when students are late or how we punish students. The other teachers listen but beatings and humiliation seem to be the only tactics they are willing to use. The worst beatings are ones I hear in the 6th grade classroom when students give wrong answers. Honest mistakes result in getting hit. The sixth grade teacher is a jerk in general but that is just awful. For me, one of the hardest things is that I just can't have the rational conversation with the other teachers because my French just doesn't get the point across. But I'm working on it. It is just a hard topic in general to try to bring up since it such a part of the culture and how school has been done for so many years.
January 11, 2009 - Those Three Little Words...
I AM COLD! I never thought I'd say those words while here in Guinea, but this morning, I saw my breath. It is Sunday and I'm bundled up in my sweats, wool socks, and hat. All week, on my way to school, people have been going through the usual salutations: Good morning, how did you sleep, how are you, but this week there was an additional, "and the cold?" My response has been that this isn't cold. Cold is my home in the United States. There is snow; that is cold. This is not cold. But then this morning came, and to tell you the truth, I was cold.
It was that type of day in Boston when it is snowing, you have no where to be so you just curl up with a good book and a bowl of soup. There is no movement by anyone, not even the kids. Everyone is huddled up in the cooking huts, hanging around by the fire. Even the family that I often eat with wouldn't leave to knock on my door and let me know the rice and sauce was ready. They just kept yelling until I peeled myself off my couch. I went in and Hija Bobo, the youngest girl, went on and on about how her mother warmed up the bathing water, how she couldn't believe I took a bath too, did I warm up the water, how its too cold to leave the hut. I suppose everyone likes to be a little dramatic about drastic weather changes.
It was that type of day in Boston when it is snowing, you have no where to be so you just curl up with a good book and a bowl of soup. There is no movement by anyone, not even the kids. Everyone is huddled up in the cooking huts, hanging around by the fire. Even the family that I often eat with wouldn't leave to knock on my door and let me know the rice and sauce was ready. They just kept yelling until I peeled myself off my couch. I went in and Hija Bobo, the youngest girl, went on and on about how her mother warmed up the bathing water, how she couldn't believe I took a bath too, did I warm up the water, how its too cold to leave the hut. I suppose everyone likes to be a little dramatic about drastic weather changes.
2.02.2009
Five New Photo Albums
Under my profile are five new photo albums with photos from January - My Little School on the Hill, Midterm Prep, A Fete, Around the House, and The Calling Hill. I hope the captions come through to explain them all! I have some stories to share as well about January; maybe tomorrow. I'm in the capital until Friday; I get to see the newest volunteers swear-in.
1.04.2009
The Sunday Night before the First Monday of School after Vacation
If you're a teacher, you know how awful the Sunday night feeling is when you're going back after vacation. It isn't that we're not happy to be back to teaching, but there's just something about Sunday night that gives nightmares once you actually fall asleep. That feeling still exists here for me, although tomorrow I'll be traveling back to my village and not teaching again until Tuesday. I'm excited to be heading back to the village and get back into the swing of things. I was nervous about what was going to happen to Guinea, how the citizens would react to all of the change. Things are peaceful and Peace Corps feels that it is perfectly safe for us to continue in our work here.
I have two new stories here for you - one about weddings and one that I wrote after a day of travel. I now have a camera so hopefully next time, some photos of life in the village.
Happy New Year!
I have two new stories here for you - one about weddings and one that I wrote after a day of travel. I now have a camera so hopefully next time, some photos of life in the village.
Happy New Year!
December 22, 2008 - Two Weddings, One Sunday
Yesterday was a good indication of the difference between the upper class and the "village class" here in Guinea. Our village as been a flurry of excitement over the past few days getting ready for two weddings; the family in my compound had many family members come in from Conakry; the village population seemed to double overnight when the taxis came in Friday night.
The wedding on Sunday morning was one a celebration of one of the girls of the village next door. She is 15. Halimatou and I went around noon to this wedding. I wasn't exactly sure what was going to happen; when we were sitting in the home of the bride with thirty or so other village women, I was very confused by the parade of young girls that all entered the house crying hysterically. I immediately think I've misunderstood the type of event we were attending. The crying girls included the bride, her sister, and her friends. The women then start crying too. I inquire about these tears and learn that crying at these weddings is typical - the bride is young, she probably doesn't know the groom, and she now has to leave her family. She's scared, and everyone knows how she feels. From what I understand, the tears from this bride and the ladies also were in mourning because the bride's mother had recently passed away.
After the crying had died down, the bride came out with her face covered in a simple white garment. Under an umbrella of 100 bills (the equivalent of about 2 cents) she was escorted by her aunts and girlfriends to another part of the village where her girlfriends (who are my 7th graders - apparently the girl who was getting married did not continue school this year because she was to be married) sang songs and danced in a circle, reminding me of a high school dance back home. They laughed and tried to out-do each other's moves. While they were dancing, the bride was changing into an indigo skirt (indigo is the fabric made in my region of Guinea) and a lil' Bow Wow tshirt. There was still no sign of the groom. Supposedly he was back at the house and all of this activity was just part of the tradition on the wedding day; there wasn't going to be any sort of ceremony. The bride in her new outfit took photos with the elementary school teachers; not one photo had a smile from the bride. Everyone then processed back to the house where I guess they ate more (we had eaten quite a bit of rice and sauce before the crying started.)
When I left the wedding, people were still there eating and talking like a wedding I know at home, but the couple was never seen together, no ceremony. It was not much of a celebration; I'm still not sure if I missed something. Halimatou told me that this was how weddings in the village were.
The second wedding was the wedding people had come to the village for. The groom was a man about my age that I had met during the Fete de Tabaski. He currently lives in Amsterdam where he is finishing his master's degree. He is the son of the president of the parent's association in my village. The first time I had met him, he was dressed in very European-styled clothes, he talked about travels in Europe. His wedding was originally supposed to be at my house because my house is beautiful for weddings; I guess there have been others there. But at the last minute, they moved it because there were going to be too many people. I arrived at the ceremony which was conducted by one of the officials from my neighboring village. It wasn't a Muslim ceremony (I'm still trying to figure out if there is a Muslim element to any of this) but was a Guinean ceremony. The bride and groom were seated at a table with a book that they, along with a few family members, signed to make the marriage official. He was dressed in beautiful traditional African robes that were white and he wore a white hat; she was dressed in a western-style white wedding gown with white gloves and a veil. She looked like she was in her twenties. They both looked happy and excited.
After the signing ceremony there was a reception with dancing and lots of food. Everyone seemed to be having a great time; the school turned into a dance party that I heard went until 4 am. One of the traditions I found myself in the middle of was the eating rice and milk under a veil with the groom and 8 other ladies. We were all waiting for him (I had no idea what we were waiting for) in the house, sitting around a calabash of rice. His grandma was there sitting in the circle with us, holding a bowl of milk. When the groom ran in, the grandma said something to him in Pular, gave him a sip of the bowl, poured the rest on the rice, and me and the ladies shoved money in his pocket before diving into the milk and rice. The grandma threw the veil over all of us as we ate. The ladies giggled and were so excited about being part of it all. Although this wedding was in my village, it was not a true village wedding. Here was a Guinean man who born in the village but educated outside of it in the cities of Guinea because his family had the means to send him there. Now he is taking his bride to Amsterdam. It is really amazing how different the same event, on the same day, could be.
The wedding on Sunday morning was one a celebration of one of the girls of the village next door. She is 15. Halimatou and I went around noon to this wedding. I wasn't exactly sure what was going to happen; when we were sitting in the home of the bride with thirty or so other village women, I was very confused by the parade of young girls that all entered the house crying hysterically. I immediately think I've misunderstood the type of event we were attending. The crying girls included the bride, her sister, and her friends. The women then start crying too. I inquire about these tears and learn that crying at these weddings is typical - the bride is young, she probably doesn't know the groom, and she now has to leave her family. She's scared, and everyone knows how she feels. From what I understand, the tears from this bride and the ladies also were in mourning because the bride's mother had recently passed away.
After the crying had died down, the bride came out with her face covered in a simple white garment. Under an umbrella of 100 bills (the equivalent of about 2 cents) she was escorted by her aunts and girlfriends to another part of the village where her girlfriends (who are my 7th graders - apparently the girl who was getting married did not continue school this year because she was to be married) sang songs and danced in a circle, reminding me of a high school dance back home. They laughed and tried to out-do each other's moves. While they were dancing, the bride was changing into an indigo skirt (indigo is the fabric made in my region of Guinea) and a lil' Bow Wow tshirt. There was still no sign of the groom. Supposedly he was back at the house and all of this activity was just part of the tradition on the wedding day; there wasn't going to be any sort of ceremony. The bride in her new outfit took photos with the elementary school teachers; not one photo had a smile from the bride. Everyone then processed back to the house where I guess they ate more (we had eaten quite a bit of rice and sauce before the crying started.)
When I left the wedding, people were still there eating and talking like a wedding I know at home, but the couple was never seen together, no ceremony. It was not much of a celebration; I'm still not sure if I missed something. Halimatou told me that this was how weddings in the village were.
The second wedding was the wedding people had come to the village for. The groom was a man about my age that I had met during the Fete de Tabaski. He currently lives in Amsterdam where he is finishing his master's degree. He is the son of the president of the parent's association in my village. The first time I had met him, he was dressed in very European-styled clothes, he talked about travels in Europe. His wedding was originally supposed to be at my house because my house is beautiful for weddings; I guess there have been others there. But at the last minute, they moved it because there were going to be too many people. I arrived at the ceremony which was conducted by one of the officials from my neighboring village. It wasn't a Muslim ceremony (I'm still trying to figure out if there is a Muslim element to any of this) but was a Guinean ceremony. The bride and groom were seated at a table with a book that they, along with a few family members, signed to make the marriage official. He was dressed in beautiful traditional African robes that were white and he wore a white hat; she was dressed in a western-style white wedding gown with white gloves and a veil. She looked like she was in her twenties. They both looked happy and excited.
After the signing ceremony there was a reception with dancing and lots of food. Everyone seemed to be having a great time; the school turned into a dance party that I heard went until 4 am. One of the traditions I found myself in the middle of was the eating rice and milk under a veil with the groom and 8 other ladies. We were all waiting for him (I had no idea what we were waiting for) in the house, sitting around a calabash of rice. His grandma was there sitting in the circle with us, holding a bowl of milk. When the groom ran in, the grandma said something to him in Pular, gave him a sip of the bowl, poured the rest on the rice, and me and the ladies shoved money in his pocket before diving into the milk and rice. The grandma threw the veil over all of us as we ate. The ladies giggled and were so excited about being part of it all. Although this wedding was in my village, it was not a true village wedding. Here was a Guinean man who born in the village but educated outside of it in the cities of Guinea because his family had the means to send him there. Now he is taking his bride to Amsterdam. It is really amazing how different the same event, on the same day, could be.
December 13, 2008 - A Taxi Tale
I was in Labe for the past couple of days - I went to retrieve my camera I had left at Thanksgiving. When I got to Peace Corps, my camera wasn't there, causing disappointment because I had big plans for taking photos in my village to post in Paris when I will be online. One photo that I would have shot came unexpectedly in my travels from Labe back to my village on Friday night.
To get from Labe to my village, I take a taxi about 3 hours from Labe to Mamou. Mamou is a city that is filled with travelers - it is the gateway to other parts of Guinea. There are three large taxi stands, and you have to know which stand has taxis going to your destination. One of the stands is for taxis going to small villages - the taxi that goes to my village isn't even at that stand - its on a small sidestreet. And he's only there on Fridays, sometimes on Mondays. This is also the spot to find the car that goes to my neighboring village. When I got there on Friday afternoon, hanging around the cars were all sorts of familiar faces - one of the teachers from my school, all the people I had met last time I was waiting for a taxi including the Sierra Leonian who was talked Barak Obama with me last time I was in Mamou. In the span of the five hours I spent waiting for the cab to fill up, anyone who lives in my village or the neighboring one and was in Mamou that day stopped by the sidestreet to see who was there, who was going back to the village, who had bought what that day, where everyone had been and who they saw. I was in a big transit city but the sidestreet felt very small town.
Right before we were leaving, the bread guy who balances the tray of bread on his head and sings stopped by, and all of the passengers of my taxi bought a minimum of four loaves to take back to the village. The ridiculous amount of bread in the taxi became source of jokes throughout the next 4 hours of the ride among the 13 passengers. I was in a taxi with 4 adults in the backseat and one child on a lap (note - this taxi is the size of a civic.) The front consisted of a driver seat and a passenger seat (no middle "seat") but somehow 4 people plus a baby all fit on those two seats. The woman who shard the drivers seat was pregnant. And there were 3 people on the roof with all of the luggage. The kid in charge of tying down all the luggage had just done it for a second time after a woman neglected to point out her luggage, so when there were now 8 bags of 4 baguettes, he refused to untie all the luggage and put them on the roof. He strapped them to the top of the trunk. We packed in the car which I am estimating to be about 40 years old. I swear it is the oldest car in Guinea. I am amazed that it makes it up the mountain on the rocky, dirt road.
About five minutes into our drive, the road out of Mamou has a roadside stop that hopes to lure in those headed back to the villages. I figured there was no way we were stopping - we had just sat around for hours surrounded by this stuff - and starting the car each time was a process I figured the driver likes to keep to a minimum (it involves a serious push start.) But we did stop, and what did everyone start buying? More bread. The principal of the neighbouring village started it in all seriousness, and the ladies in the back began laughing hysterically that he was honestly buying more bread. They joined in after sitting for a few minutes, I mean, why not? The crew was in push start position when he then asked about the price of the sugar. We had been sitting next door to a sugar stand all day.
It was about 5:30 when we really got moving - by 6:00 we were off the main road and headed towards the villages. At 7:00, the car stopped and everyone headed to a tree that had a space cleared out under it for the Guinean rest-stop, evening prayer. Here, by 7:00, the sun has just set, and tonight, the full moon was rising over the mountains. It was large and beautiful African orange. This is the scene I wish I could have captured with my missing camera - I was on the side of the road next to the "vintage" car with the dozens of bread tied to the trunk, headed down a road headed toward the moon with nothing on either side but the tall grasses and the hills. The sky with dusk colors just hanging on while the moon took to the skies, and under a mango tree were seven men and three women facing northeast offering up the last prayer of the day. This is Guinea.
To get from Labe to my village, I take a taxi about 3 hours from Labe to Mamou. Mamou is a city that is filled with travelers - it is the gateway to other parts of Guinea. There are three large taxi stands, and you have to know which stand has taxis going to your destination. One of the stands is for taxis going to small villages - the taxi that goes to my village isn't even at that stand - its on a small sidestreet. And he's only there on Fridays, sometimes on Mondays. This is also the spot to find the car that goes to my neighboring village. When I got there on Friday afternoon, hanging around the cars were all sorts of familiar faces - one of the teachers from my school, all the people I had met last time I was waiting for a taxi including the Sierra Leonian who was talked Barak Obama with me last time I was in Mamou. In the span of the five hours I spent waiting for the cab to fill up, anyone who lives in my village or the neighboring one and was in Mamou that day stopped by the sidestreet to see who was there, who was going back to the village, who had bought what that day, where everyone had been and who they saw. I was in a big transit city but the sidestreet felt very small town.
Right before we were leaving, the bread guy who balances the tray of bread on his head and sings stopped by, and all of the passengers of my taxi bought a minimum of four loaves to take back to the village. The ridiculous amount of bread in the taxi became source of jokes throughout the next 4 hours of the ride among the 13 passengers. I was in a taxi with 4 adults in the backseat and one child on a lap (note - this taxi is the size of a civic.) The front consisted of a driver seat and a passenger seat (no middle "seat") but somehow 4 people plus a baby all fit on those two seats. The woman who shard the drivers seat was pregnant. And there were 3 people on the roof with all of the luggage. The kid in charge of tying down all the luggage had just done it for a second time after a woman neglected to point out her luggage, so when there were now 8 bags of 4 baguettes, he refused to untie all the luggage and put them on the roof. He strapped them to the top of the trunk. We packed in the car which I am estimating to be about 40 years old. I swear it is the oldest car in Guinea. I am amazed that it makes it up the mountain on the rocky, dirt road.
About five minutes into our drive, the road out of Mamou has a roadside stop that hopes to lure in those headed back to the villages. I figured there was no way we were stopping - we had just sat around for hours surrounded by this stuff - and starting the car each time was a process I figured the driver likes to keep to a minimum (it involves a serious push start.) But we did stop, and what did everyone start buying? More bread. The principal of the neighbouring village started it in all seriousness, and the ladies in the back began laughing hysterically that he was honestly buying more bread. They joined in after sitting for a few minutes, I mean, why not? The crew was in push start position when he then asked about the price of the sugar. We had been sitting next door to a sugar stand all day.
It was about 5:30 when we really got moving - by 6:00 we were off the main road and headed towards the villages. At 7:00, the car stopped and everyone headed to a tree that had a space cleared out under it for the Guinean rest-stop, evening prayer. Here, by 7:00, the sun has just set, and tonight, the full moon was rising over the mountains. It was large and beautiful African orange. This is the scene I wish I could have captured with my missing camera - I was on the side of the road next to the "vintage" car with the dozens of bread tied to the trunk, headed down a road headed toward the moon with nothing on either side but the tall grasses and the hills. The sky with dusk colors just hanging on while the moon took to the skies, and under a mango tree were seven men and three women facing northeast offering up the last prayer of the day. This is Guinea.
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