November 11
Thursday was a circus.
I wonder if the kids learned anything.
In my 9th grade class I handed out personal photos with captions trying to provide examples of indefinite and definite who clauses. Because the 10th grade teacher wasn't at school, the roar of 80 students looking at pictures didn't matter. Then we listened to Lean on Me on a cassette player provided by one of the students. It was a noisy 2 hour class.
Then after class we went outside. I wanted to show them a chemistry experiment on the combustion of a candle by setting a spoonful of gas from melted wax on fire, but the crowding and pushing of a ton of interested students was unproductive.
Then the school had student body elections where 400 kids voted for their representatives by standing in a line behind their choice. The longest line of students wins. It was a literal support, "We're behind you."
Then in my 8th grade English class we listened to a song from Beauty and the Beast. It was a competition to see how many English words they could catch and write down.
And during the 15 minute morning break we played frisbee. They are all very excited to play both boys and girls. Now I just need to find more frisbees. If you're interested, send me a frisbee or a volleyball. We have one of each, but with the tons of kids a few more would be helpful. I'm going to start a girl's volleyball team and introduce ultimate frisbee.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
I am Tired
November 5
Monday I gave a 2 hour math test to my 120 students.
And for the past 2 days I've been living at school grading.
I teach for 4 hours and then in the evenings help other teachers by proctoring exams for them. They split their 110 student classes in two to help prevent cheating, but it means they need another teacher to help administer the test.
When I'm not in the classroom, I'm grading except for the 20 minute break I take to eat beans and rice and watermelon from the market ladies. I stay at school all day leaving as the sun is setting, the darkness telling me to stop. You can start again tomorrow.
Tonight though by candlelight I spent an hour preparing to teach my English class.
I'm learning how to be an English teacher by just getting in there and doing it. At the moment I'm doing a pretty bad job. The 90 kids hate it, their frustration audibly heard throughout the class which makes me hate it.
Why am I having a hard time?
1) It is my first time teaching English.
2) I don't have any experience with the teaching methods the kids are use to. My methods are new and probably confusing to them.
3) I don't really have a good idea of how much English they really know.
Their book which has absolutely no French in it, is basically full of texts and comprehension questions. It might just be way to advance for them which makes it hard coz then I'll need to write my own lesson plans with no guidance.
I am tired. Will Friday ever arrive?
Monday I gave a 2 hour math test to my 120 students.
And for the past 2 days I've been living at school grading.
I teach for 4 hours and then in the evenings help other teachers by proctoring exams for them. They split their 110 student classes in two to help prevent cheating, but it means they need another teacher to help administer the test.
When I'm not in the classroom, I'm grading except for the 20 minute break I take to eat beans and rice and watermelon from the market ladies. I stay at school all day leaving as the sun is setting, the darkness telling me to stop. You can start again tomorrow.
Tonight though by candlelight I spent an hour preparing to teach my English class.
I'm learning how to be an English teacher by just getting in there and doing it. At the moment I'm doing a pretty bad job. The 90 kids hate it, their frustration audibly heard throughout the class which makes me hate it.
Why am I having a hard time?
1) It is my first time teaching English.
2) I don't have any experience with the teaching methods the kids are use to. My methods are new and probably confusing to them.
3) I don't really have a good idea of how much English they really know.
Their book which has absolutely no French in it, is basically full of texts and comprehension questions. It might just be way to advance for them which makes it hard coz then I'll need to write my own lesson plans with no guidance.
I am tired. Will Friday ever arrive?
November 4
There is a cloud of dust right behind my wall.
There is continuous drumming,
the accompaniment to endless dust-filled dancing.
Today the village is celebrating one of its own.
He left the village 15 years ago
right after primary school to enter seminary school.
He has recently become a Catholic priest.
There is continuous drumming,
the accompaniment to endless dust-filled dancing.
Today the village is celebrating one of its own.
He left the village 15 years ago
right after primary school to enter seminary school.
He has recently become a Catholic priest.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Tea Conversations
Each evening I drink green tea with a couple of male neighbors who are unmarried in their 30's, men who worked in the cocoa and coffee fields of Cote D'Ivoire.
What do we talk about?
One asked, "Is it true that the US government pays you if you don't have a job?"
We discussed what is the minimum a family of 4 needs to live on if no emergencies arise? We calculated $120/month and that is still living pretty poorly.
Who makes the most money in the village? People who sell alcohol and gas. Women who sell fried fish and doughnuts to school kids make some money compared to other market women who sell dolo, the local millet beer, or who sell rice and sauce.
I rarely see men and women sitting talking to each other for long periods of time. How do husbands get to know their wives? I learned marriage is more of a functional union. Your same-sex friends are who you socialize with, get emotional support from, gossip with and have intellectual debates with.
And love?
The pains of the heart of rejected love yes, do keep those so inflicted tossing and turning throughout the night.
And dating?
When market day comes people see a variety of new faces, some they find interesting, having a passing conversation here and there. And if a serious interest is felt, the man will send a representative to the woman's family. Gotta makes sure there aren't any conflicts between the two families before pursuing marriage. Think Romeo and Juliet.
One asked if I had heard about the Californian fires. I only listen to the BBC when I feel lonely or a sleepless night seems long. It's been a weeks since I turned on the radio.
We discussed China. Is it the next super power? What will the US do? Will Taiwan be the spark of WW III?
Can we go to mars?
We argued about whether it is possible to lose bone mass and argued about why muscles get sore. We each have our own ideas based on info we have heard and read. Are my ideas more valid just coz I come from a developed country with internet? Or are both of our ideas false and are only true because we believe them to be?
What do we talk about?
One asked, "Is it true that the US government pays you if you don't have a job?"
We discussed what is the minimum a family of 4 needs to live on if no emergencies arise? We calculated $120/month and that is still living pretty poorly.
Who makes the most money in the village? People who sell alcohol and gas. Women who sell fried fish and doughnuts to school kids make some money compared to other market women who sell dolo, the local millet beer, or who sell rice and sauce.
I rarely see men and women sitting talking to each other for long periods of time. How do husbands get to know their wives? I learned marriage is more of a functional union. Your same-sex friends are who you socialize with, get emotional support from, gossip with and have intellectual debates with.
And love?
The pains of the heart of rejected love yes, do keep those so inflicted tossing and turning throughout the night.
And dating?
When market day comes people see a variety of new faces, some they find interesting, having a passing conversation here and there. And if a serious interest is felt, the man will send a representative to the woman's family. Gotta makes sure there aren't any conflicts between the two families before pursuing marriage. Think Romeo and Juliet.
One asked if I had heard about the Californian fires. I only listen to the BBC when I feel lonely or a sleepless night seems long. It's been a weeks since I turned on the radio.
We discussed China. Is it the next super power? What will the US do? Will Taiwan be the spark of WW III?
Can we go to mars?
We argued about whether it is possible to lose bone mass and argued about why muscles get sore. We each have our own ideas based on info we have heard and read. Are my ideas more valid just coz I come from a developed country with internet? Or are both of our ideas false and are only true because we believe them to be?
The October Rhythm of Village Life
6 am
Get ready for work and bike to school
7 am
7 am
Teach 4 hours
11 am
11 am
Cook a huge pot of beans, eat guavas, and watermelon,
read, write, draw, lesson plan, wash dishes
16 h
16 h
Go for a run, meditate, and shower
17 h
17 h
Have tea with neighbors
Dark
Dark
Write, listen to music, and go to bed
Images that Remind me of Home
October 24
- a toddler walking around in his father's flip flops, 4 sizes too big
- a little girl picking out the onions and the green parts and the macaroni she's never seen before to eat only the familiar beans, a little pile of the unwanted beside her on the ground
- the older sister making the younger laugh in glee playing horsey and airplane, the youngster upon the older's shins
- the younger girl using her best defense biting down during a wrestling match against her 3 year old rival
Oh Boy!
They say the season has only begun.
They say it'll be so good, chilled just like out of a fridge.
They say 50 wagons full will come to market instead of the current 10.
They say watermelon is here till Christmas.
Maybe I should grow some.
They say it'll be so good, chilled just like out of a fridge.
They say 50 wagons full will come to market instead of the current 10.
They say watermelon is here till Christmas.
Maybe I should grow some.
My Daily Visitor
Brigitte is a girl of 15 who has been hired to bring me 2 bidons of water from the well daily.
She is smart, one of the top in her 8th grade class. She loves telling funny stories including all of the sound effects. She is a skinny youngster with a closely buzzed head who loves clothes and would rather buy a tailored made outfit than buy a compass for math, but she'll sacrifice her wants and buy medicine for her brother who has a growing infected sore on his leg.
She has all of the answers. I cut onions and garlic wrong. I dig worms out of sweet potatoes wrong. She takes my potatoes and does it for me. She is an excellent cook who knows how to do a lot of tasty dishes with so little. She loves to contradict me, but given a logical explanation she'll accept my reasoning.
She is a devout Catholic who loves to sing and dance and knows how to balance a cup of water on her head while shaking her hips to music.
I wonder what her future will bring:
a home in the village with a husband and children
a high school education
a college education
a paying job that is not farmer or market lady?
She is smart, one of the top in her 8th grade class. She loves telling funny stories including all of the sound effects. She is a skinny youngster with a closely buzzed head who loves clothes and would rather buy a tailored made outfit than buy a compass for math, but she'll sacrifice her wants and buy medicine for her brother who has a growing infected sore on his leg.
She has all of the answers. I cut onions and garlic wrong. I dig worms out of sweet potatoes wrong. She takes my potatoes and does it for me. She is an excellent cook who knows how to do a lot of tasty dishes with so little. She loves to contradict me, but given a logical explanation she'll accept my reasoning.
She is a devout Catholic who loves to sing and dance and knows how to balance a cup of water on her head while shaking her hips to music.
I wonder what her future will bring:
a home in the village with a husband and children
a high school education
a college education
a paying job that is not farmer or market lady?
Night Visitors
Wap Wap
its curved threatening tail
spread upon the ground
tasty guts for the ants
It's actually quite entertaining watching the life that light attracts as long as it all stays on the other side of the net. I especially like watching the lizards line up for the insect buffet.
its curved threatening tail
spread upon the ground
tasty guts for the ants
It's actually quite entertaining watching the life that light attracts as long as it all stays on the other side of the net. I especially like watching the lizards line up for the insect buffet.
School is Funny
October 16
Last Monday my first day of class, the student's second week of school, I went not knowing what I was going to teach. The teachers' schedules hadn't been done yet. The principal worked hard over the weekend and that Monday I learned that I would be teaching 18 hours: 10 hours of math to two 8th grades (60 students per class), 5 hours of English to one of the 8th grades, and 3 hours of English to the 9th grade (90 students).
I threw all of my 8th graders into one classroom, 3 to 4 to a table and gave a review lesson on plotting points, flying by the seat of my pants.
There was very little teaching my first week of school for several reasons:
1) There were only two teachers for the whole school, both of us math and science teachers. Two teachers cannot keep a school with 6 classes and over 400 students running. We sent the students home early after teaching for a couple of hours.
2) The second day of class I could not erase my previous day's math review lesson because there were no erasers to be found in the village. I left that class went into the other 8th grade classroom which had a clean blackboard, gave a lesson, threw those students out, and brought in the other 8th graders for the same lesson.
3) On Friday, the students and I all came to school and were told to go home. It was a holiday, Ramadan.
4) On Monday, we all came to school and were told to go home. It was a holiday, the 20th anniversary of the president being in power.
Today I finally gave my first real lesson teaching 4 hours of symmetry to 8th graders.
Finally maybe school has started. Or maybe tomorrow I'll be sent home again. I am glad unlike some of the students I don't have to bike in 10 km to go to school.
Last Monday my first day of class, the student's second week of school, I went not knowing what I was going to teach. The teachers' schedules hadn't been done yet. The principal worked hard over the weekend and that Monday I learned that I would be teaching 18 hours: 10 hours of math to two 8th grades (60 students per class), 5 hours of English to one of the 8th grades, and 3 hours of English to the 9th grade (90 students).
I threw all of my 8th graders into one classroom, 3 to 4 to a table and gave a review lesson on plotting points, flying by the seat of my pants.
There was very little teaching my first week of school for several reasons:
1) There were only two teachers for the whole school, both of us math and science teachers. Two teachers cannot keep a school with 6 classes and over 400 students running. We sent the students home early after teaching for a couple of hours.
2) The second day of class I could not erase my previous day's math review lesson because there were no erasers to be found in the village. I left that class went into the other 8th grade classroom which had a clean blackboard, gave a lesson, threw those students out, and brought in the other 8th graders for the same lesson.
3) On Friday, the students and I all came to school and were told to go home. It was a holiday, Ramadan.
4) On Monday, we all came to school and were told to go home. It was a holiday, the 20th anniversary of the president being in power.
Today I finally gave my first real lesson teaching 4 hours of symmetry to 8th graders.
Finally maybe school has started. Or maybe tomorrow I'll be sent home again. I am glad unlike some of the students I don't have to bike in 10 km to go to school.
October 10
You have a tasty sweet potato yellow curry that has been simmering for hours. It's too spicy to eat alone, but when you open your rice container bugs galore.
What do you do?
What do you do?
October 9
I've been away from the village for about 2 weeks. It has changed.
My garden is brown.
The rains have stopped to the dismay of the farmers of unharvested dying millet.
The flies have disappeared.
It's turned hot.
Watermelon has appeared.
School has started.
My garden is brown.
The rains have stopped to the dismay of the farmers of unharvested dying millet.
The flies have disappeared.
It's turned hot.
Watermelon has appeared.
School has started.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Last night in Dakar
Walking back to the hotel, I was full of raw fish and raw garlic. The Korean food was served with a red sauce, leaves of lettuce, and halved raw garlic cloves. I made wraps with the surprising ingredients that mixed well with each other. I was super happy with my last meal in Dakar, a $20 splurge well worth the taste of melting fish.
The 15 block walk to my 6th floor hotel room was surreal.
I walked down the middle of the street instead of the earlier weaving through the moving masses of car jams, carts, people, motorcycles, trucks. I walked unobstructed compared to the earlier feelings of being part of a video game hugging parked vehicles watching my feet and the protruding side mirrors of taxis as they beeped their way through narrow passageways.
It was a moment of silence.
The heavens were darkening with the setting sun. The sky was full of dark birds circling above. The air was full of prayers sung from loud speakers.
It was a moment of religious silence.
Everything seemed to be praying.
The narrow alley like streets below 2 story buildings were lined by non-moving huge trucks stacked high with bags of onions, by resting metal carts, lined by rows of men facing Mecca bowing in prayer, full of wooden benches of men breaking fast with coffee and sandwiches a feeling of a quiet rush to fill empty stomachs and wet dry throats.
I felt a sense of deep reverence, a sense of deep solidarity as a city prayed and broke fast.
The 15 block walk to my 6th floor hotel room was surreal.
I walked down the middle of the street instead of the earlier weaving through the moving masses of car jams, carts, people, motorcycles, trucks. I walked unobstructed compared to the earlier feelings of being part of a video game hugging parked vehicles watching my feet and the protruding side mirrors of taxis as they beeped their way through narrow passageways.
It was a moment of silence.
The heavens were darkening with the setting sun. The sky was full of dark birds circling above. The air was full of prayers sung from loud speakers.
It was a moment of religious silence.
Everything seemed to be praying.
The narrow alley like streets below 2 story buildings were lined by non-moving huge trucks stacked high with bags of onions, by resting metal carts, lined by rows of men facing Mecca bowing in prayer, full of wooden benches of men breaking fast with coffee and sandwiches a feeling of a quiet rush to fill empty stomachs and wet dry throats.
I felt a sense of deep reverence, a sense of deep solidarity as a city prayed and broke fast.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Culture Shock in Dakar
At the free hotel breakfast buffet, I sat in the restaurant surrounded by French tourists who were part of a bus tour group. They wore shorts and tank tops so much more skin revealed than the skin covering fashion of Senegal. Cloth protects you from the sun. How long will it take me to feel comfortable revealing skin again once I'm back in the states?
I walked into a HUGE supermarket, Wal-Mart and Target-like and was overwhelmed! So many choices food, housewares, so many products. I walked each aisle like it was a museum, an enjoyable way to spend out of the sun in air condition.
I bought cheese, ham, chocolate chip cookies, bread, and chips. It was so expensive, $12, but then I realized I had forgotten what supermarket prices are are like. I get $200 a month. Shopping in a supermarket is a luxury for special occasions. At least I didn't go on a shopping spree buying ALL of the temptations I could.
Maybe I won't binge when I get back to the states.
This small vacation away from village has given me a taste of the Western world: supermarkets, an all you can eat Korean buffet with raw fish, current movies, air conditioned hotel room, lots of merchandise to browse, lots of people watching, a favorite pastime of mine. Yet I am already tiring of it and am ready for the simple life au village.
I walked into a HUGE supermarket, Wal-Mart and Target-like and was overwhelmed! So many choices food, housewares, so many products. I walked each aisle like it was a museum, an enjoyable way to spend out of the sun in air condition.
I bought cheese, ham, chocolate chip cookies, bread, and chips. It was so expensive, $12, but then I realized I had forgotten what supermarket prices are are like. I get $200 a month. Shopping in a supermarket is a luxury for special occasions. At least I didn't go on a shopping spree buying ALL of the temptations I could.
Maybe I won't binge when I get back to the states.
This small vacation away from village has given me a taste of the Western world: supermarkets, an all you can eat Korean buffet with raw fish, current movies, air conditioned hotel room, lots of merchandise to browse, lots of people watching, a favorite pastime of mine. Yet I am already tiring of it and am ready for the simple life au village.
Sticking out like a Sore Thumb
Customer service at restaurants, tailors, and cloth vendors has been exceptional. Having a friendly attitude rather than presenting a cold wall of don't talk to me facilitates a friendly exchange. Instead of thinking just sell me the merchandise, just serve me the food, I make small talk making the experience pleasant.
In contrast though out on the streets among the street vendors:
I feel like I don't get harassed that much maybe a total of 5 times per outing: hisses, Madame Chinoise, Japonese, Ni hao (at least they say it right here compared to in Guinea where it came out as hee haw).
Do I get harassed less because I'm Asian? There is a somewhat large population of Asians living here in Dakar, maybe the locals are use to Asians. Maybe it is because I wear African cloth and am conservatively clothed compared to those in shorts or tank tops. I don't have the air of a tourist. At one restaurant, the waiter correctly labeled me as Peace Corps. Maybe the lack of harassment is because I stay away from touristy spots or maybe I'm just really good at looking mean and unfriendly.
I'm just glad I've met friendly people and have not been harassed into an attitude of I hate this city. Downtown Ouaga in Burkina has that affect on me. I stay away from downtown, from the vendors who won't leave you alone. Take a bike so you can escape their clutches.
Here in Dakar, I'm happy exploring in peace.
In contrast though out on the streets among the street vendors:
Don't make eye contact
Keep a poker face
Keep walking
Don't say anything
Don't open the door to be harassed and followed.
Keep a poker face
Keep walking
Don't say anything
Don't open the door to be harassed and followed.
I feel like I don't get harassed that much maybe a total of 5 times per outing: hisses, Madame Chinoise, Japonese, Ni hao (at least they say it right here compared to in Guinea where it came out as hee haw).
Do I get harassed less because I'm Asian? There is a somewhat large population of Asians living here in Dakar, maybe the locals are use to Asians. Maybe it is because I wear African cloth and am conservatively clothed compared to those in shorts or tank tops. I don't have the air of a tourist. At one restaurant, the waiter correctly labeled me as Peace Corps. Maybe the lack of harassment is because I stay away from touristy spots or maybe I'm just really good at looking mean and unfriendly.
I'm just glad I've met friendly people and have not been harassed into an attitude of I hate this city. Downtown Ouaga in Burkina has that affect on me. I stay away from downtown, from the vendors who won't leave you alone. Take a bike so you can escape their clutches.
Here in Dakar, I'm happy exploring in peace.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Pests
How do they bite me on my clothed butt?
I've got 20 mosquito bites on my ass.
There is no room for repellent anymore.
My ass would just burn from the chemicals coating infected sores.
Who puts insect repellent on their butts anyways?
Irritating bang, bang, bang
a ceaseless banging drives me from
my netted cot
to open the
aluminum door
to let the knocking frog free
from its quest to bang itself out of my latrine.
I've got 20 mosquito bites on my ass.
There is no room for repellent anymore.
My ass would just burn from the chemicals coating infected sores.
Who puts insect repellent on their butts anyways?
Irritating bang, bang, bang
a ceaseless banging drives me from
my netted cot
to open the
aluminum door
to let the knocking frog free
from its quest to bang itself out of my latrine.
A Visit by the Big Whigs
September 19
The National Peace Corps Director is flying into Burkina bringing an entourage of 4 from Washington D.C.
I got a call from Peace Corps Burkina. He's coming to your village. Organize something.
I've been in country only 6 months, 2 of those basically on vacation. The village is empty. My farming community has gone to the fields. How the hell was I going to organize anything? Guinea taught me the difficulty of organizing anything. No one ever shows up for meetings or maybe I never waited long enough. The philosophy of time is totally opposite of our American idea that time is money.
Here time is leisure, is visits with friends, is waiting for the rain to stop, a lack of watches, time told by the sun. Time is waiting for people to show up. Time is patience.
The Burkina philosophy is Ca va allez. Things will work out.
You will only worry yourself sick if you are a control freak.
As the day approaches things are slowly coming together.
My house is coming together, a leaking window fixed. My straw covered porch is finally back up after falling down for 3rd time a month ago.
A 11 h meeting was postponed till 15 h so that the girls could do their laundry. I think they are ready to sing. The organizational meeting took a lot of patience from me. It wasn't crisp and clean. It was a caos of girls who were happy to be together socializing. Everything was in Moore until I tried to force decisions about what songs they wanted to sing. Leadership was lacking. I didn't want to be the leader. I can't speak Moore. Even though they speak French they are more comfortable in their mother tongue. Eventually after what seemed like hours of giggling and endless chatter, I hope we have something organized.
Speeches have been written, but one of the girls pulled out for a trip with her church. Surprisingly another speaker quickly replaced her.
A skit in English on girls' education has slowly come together even with the rains that cancel practices and the inevitable buisness that pulls people away from scheduled practices.
What I've learned during this frenzy of planning is that I've got friends who know how to work in the leisure time scale of Burkina who are willing to make the event happen, who know how to gather people who will participate, even if it means walking kilometers to everyone's house to spread meeting times. It is my friends who are really making this even happen.
It isn't about being on time, or being efficient, or productive in a short amount of time. It is about having fun even if it takes more time to get a final product.
I'm planning an event where nothing is definite. Anything and everything changes. It's kind of exciting not knowing what is going to happen but believing Ca va allez that it'll all work out in the end.
September 21
The visit to my village was an enormous success! Students showed up. Songs were sung. Speeches were given and my high energy speech about Peace Corps and its work in the village was received with high praise. I am just super glad that it is over.
The National Peace Corps Director is flying into Burkina bringing an entourage of 4 from Washington D.C.
I got a call from Peace Corps Burkina. He's coming to your village. Organize something.
I've been in country only 6 months, 2 of those basically on vacation. The village is empty. My farming community has gone to the fields. How the hell was I going to organize anything? Guinea taught me the difficulty of organizing anything. No one ever shows up for meetings or maybe I never waited long enough. The philosophy of time is totally opposite of our American idea that time is money.
Here time is leisure, is visits with friends, is waiting for the rain to stop, a lack of watches, time told by the sun. Time is waiting for people to show up. Time is patience.
The Burkina philosophy is Ca va allez. Things will work out.
You will only worry yourself sick if you are a control freak.
As the day approaches things are slowly coming together.
My house is coming together, a leaking window fixed. My straw covered porch is finally back up after falling down for 3rd time a month ago.
A 11 h meeting was postponed till 15 h so that the girls could do their laundry. I think they are ready to sing. The organizational meeting took a lot of patience from me. It wasn't crisp and clean. It was a caos of girls who were happy to be together socializing. Everything was in Moore until I tried to force decisions about what songs they wanted to sing. Leadership was lacking. I didn't want to be the leader. I can't speak Moore. Even though they speak French they are more comfortable in their mother tongue. Eventually after what seemed like hours of giggling and endless chatter, I hope we have something organized.
Speeches have been written, but one of the girls pulled out for a trip with her church. Surprisingly another speaker quickly replaced her.
A skit in English on girls' education has slowly come together even with the rains that cancel practices and the inevitable buisness that pulls people away from scheduled practices.
What I've learned during this frenzy of planning is that I've got friends who know how to work in the leisure time scale of Burkina who are willing to make the event happen, who know how to gather people who will participate, even if it means walking kilometers to everyone's house to spread meeting times. It is my friends who are really making this even happen.
It isn't about being on time, or being efficient, or productive in a short amount of time. It is about having fun even if it takes more time to get a final product.
I'm planning an event where nothing is definite. Anything and everything changes. It's kind of exciting not knowing what is going to happen but believing Ca va allez that it'll all work out in the end.
September 21
The visit to my village was an enormous success! Students showed up. Songs were sung. Speeches were given and my high energy speech about Peace Corps and its work in the village was received with high praise. I am just super glad that it is over.
Fish
September 19
They scale the fresh water fish and then dip it in a wok of oil heated by burning wood. Then we eat . I've started learning how to crunch on the heads, a favored part of the fried fish. The kids are sad coz they use to always get my uneaten fish heads. Frying the fish is a way of conserving the meat for a few days. How long does it take for flies to lay eggs that become larvae? I hate having almost finished a whole fish only to find wiggling white larvae in the meat.
They scale the fresh water fish and then dip it in a wok of oil heated by burning wood. Then we eat . I've started learning how to crunch on the heads, a favored part of the fried fish. The kids are sad coz they use to always get my uneaten fish heads. Frying the fish is a way of conserving the meat for a few days. How long does it take for flies to lay eggs that become larvae? I hate having almost finished a whole fish only to find wiggling white larvae in the meat.
Glorious Food
I am going to grow super fat when I get back to the states. One thing Africa has not taught me is self-control with respect to food. Africa forces self-control by depriving, by offering limited food choices: flour, rice, meat, okra, eggplant, onions, cabbage, pasta and beans.
I could try binging on bread or pancakes, but I get awfully tired of eating them.
Amongst cheese, cookies, candy, ice cream, chips, fast food, restaurants, and piles of fruit and vegetables, I am afraid I'm going to binge.
I could try binging on bread or pancakes, but I get awfully tired of eating them.
Amongst cheese, cookies, candy, ice cream, chips, fast food, restaurants, and piles of fruit and vegetables, I am afraid I'm going to binge.
Choose your own Adventure
September 14
Today was a day in African hell where one keeps running into difficulties and roadblocks yet you never get upset having learned to just go with the flow. In the end everything tends to work out. My proof? a bacon and cheese quiche sitting beside me.
My troubles began at 6 am. The month of fasting has started and I could not find breakfast an essential for a 30 km bike ride. I had planned to taxi into Kaya to withdraw money from the bank and then bike back not wanting to wait around till 3 pm for the taxi to return home.
The ride to Kaya was fun sitting in a big cab of a truck slightly afraid of going through a windshield that was well cracked. We stopped at one village for a long time.
Do you?
A) Start worrying and panicking that the day is progressively getting hotter, each minute ticking to make a late arrival in Kaya resulting in a tortuously hot bike ride home or
B) enjoy the sights?
I enjoyed watching 3-6 women young, old, pregnant, some with babies tied to their backs, pull water from a well and lift heavy water-filled plastic bidons and locally made mud canisters above their heads to be balanced there as they walked off. The old women have lost a lot of their muscle yet they still pull, organizing their rope efficiently for repeat drops. I could tell that their strength was disappearing. Water was carried with a wobble instead of the centered stillness of the younger women.
I watched 5 young men lift a huge bull from a donkey cart onto the back of a big truck. It was to be sold for meat, a useless bull with a broken leg. We sat at that village a long time. The next thing I watched was a long argument about money. Fists were raised but we were soon on our way and I watched village tops roll by, their walls hidden by fields of corn.
I biked to the bank looking forward to later buying watermelon from the growing stacks of market day to send home with the truck. Instead I found the post closed. I needed money. I was down to my last $10 and I was flying to Dakar soon.
Do you?
A) Wait till 15h when it was rumored that the post would re-open thus missing the 15h transport back home then A1) bike back arriving at nightfall or A2) spend the night in Kaya or
B) Take a bus down to Ouaga, withdraw money and catch the 13h taxi back home?
It was only 8:30 am giving me plenty of time to take the 9 am bus down to Ouaga a 100 km ride on paved roads (about 2 hours). I bought my ticket when the sky suddenly turned red and a rainstorm hit us. We sat at the bus station forever waiting way past the scheduled departure time for the rain to stop. Would I make it to the bank before it closed for lunch?
Do you?
A) Ask for a refund and stay in Kaya hoping to withdraw money and if the bank never opened not having enough for a hotel. or
B) Continue to Ouaga where if the bank closed before you arrived you'd have to wait till it reopened at 15 h thus missing your taxi back home and thus having to stay in an expensive hotel?
I had the idea that the post closed at 11:45. We got into Ouaga at 11:30. They took forever to get my bike down from the top of the bus. At 11:50 I got my money and stamps with 10 minutes to spare. *whew* I got my money and even got to do some expensive shopping at a pastry shop and a grocery store full of Western food: raisins, powdered milk, cookies, baking powder, and a Mars bar. I caught my 13h taxi back home not getting any watermelon, yet still happy with my rare treat of a bacon and cheese quiche.
No matter how you choose your adventure in Africa, everything eventually works out.
Today was a day in African hell where one keeps running into difficulties and roadblocks yet you never get upset having learned to just go with the flow. In the end everything tends to work out. My proof? a bacon and cheese quiche sitting beside me.
My troubles began at 6 am. The month of fasting has started and I could not find breakfast an essential for a 30 km bike ride. I had planned to taxi into Kaya to withdraw money from the bank and then bike back not wanting to wait around till 3 pm for the taxi to return home.
The ride to Kaya was fun sitting in a big cab of a truck slightly afraid of going through a windshield that was well cracked. We stopped at one village for a long time.
Do you?
A) Start worrying and panicking that the day is progressively getting hotter, each minute ticking to make a late arrival in Kaya resulting in a tortuously hot bike ride home or
B) enjoy the sights?
I enjoyed watching 3-6 women young, old, pregnant, some with babies tied to their backs, pull water from a well and lift heavy water-filled plastic bidons and locally made mud canisters above their heads to be balanced there as they walked off. The old women have lost a lot of their muscle yet they still pull, organizing their rope efficiently for repeat drops. I could tell that their strength was disappearing. Water was carried with a wobble instead of the centered stillness of the younger women.
I watched 5 young men lift a huge bull from a donkey cart onto the back of a big truck. It was to be sold for meat, a useless bull with a broken leg. We sat at that village a long time. The next thing I watched was a long argument about money. Fists were raised but we were soon on our way and I watched village tops roll by, their walls hidden by fields of corn.
I biked to the bank looking forward to later buying watermelon from the growing stacks of market day to send home with the truck. Instead I found the post closed. I needed money. I was down to my last $10 and I was flying to Dakar soon.
Do you?
A) Wait till 15h when it was rumored that the post would re-open thus missing the 15h transport back home then A1) bike back arriving at nightfall or A2) spend the night in Kaya or
B) Take a bus down to Ouaga, withdraw money and catch the 13h taxi back home?
It was only 8:30 am giving me plenty of time to take the 9 am bus down to Ouaga a 100 km ride on paved roads (about 2 hours). I bought my ticket when the sky suddenly turned red and a rainstorm hit us. We sat at the bus station forever waiting way past the scheduled departure time for the rain to stop. Would I make it to the bank before it closed for lunch?
Do you?
A) Ask for a refund and stay in Kaya hoping to withdraw money and if the bank never opened not having enough for a hotel. or
B) Continue to Ouaga where if the bank closed before you arrived you'd have to wait till it reopened at 15 h thus missing your taxi back home and thus having to stay in an expensive hotel?
I had the idea that the post closed at 11:45. We got into Ouaga at 11:30. They took forever to get my bike down from the top of the bus. At 11:50 I got my money and stamps with 10 minutes to spare. *whew* I got my money and even got to do some expensive shopping at a pastry shop and a grocery store full of Western food: raisins, powdered milk, cookies, baking powder, and a Mars bar. I caught my 13h taxi back home not getting any watermelon, yet still happy with my rare treat of a bacon and cheese quiche.
No matter how you choose your adventure in Africa, everything eventually works out.
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