My Ghana Vacation

I think one of my most favorite vacations I’ve taken was to Ghana. It was filled with private, palm tree lined beaches, old trading forts and slave castles, and amazing food! Although Ghana is only next door to Burkina, the difference is immediately recognizable once you cross the border.



Our first stop was Butre, Ghana, where we stayed at a hotel called ‘The Hideout’, which earned its name. It is the only hotel on the cove of Butre, and houses no more than 30 people. We were the only people there for the first few days. In order to get to the hotel, you have to walk through the nearby fishing village, and then cross a rickety wooden bridge.



Each morning, I would get up early, watch the sun rise, and then head into the local village. I think this would be a rude awakening for most Americans. You are at a vacation resort on beautiful beaches, then cross the bridge into the village where you can see true poverty. I enjoyed it through. I would eat breakfast in the village each morning, and got to meet some nice people and see some interesting things. My favorite part was going in the morning to the beaches when the fishing boats arrive. All the women from the village come to the beach and haggle for fish. There are hundreds of fish; from small, minnow-sized fish to humungous ones (I even saw one dolphin!).



Looking down on Butre is Fort Batenstein, which was built in the 1600’s by the Dutch West Indian Trading Company. The locals are quick to say that this was never a slave fort because Butre didn’t support slavery, but it was used a base for the company. It housed the company’s workers and they stored their supplies there.
A 30 minute hike through the forest leads you to Busua, which is a bigger, and more touristy town. There were several hotels here, gift shops, and a lot of restaurant options. It was fun to see, but I would prefer Butre to Busua anyday.



Busua is known for their huge waves and attracts surfers from around the world. It was actually used to shoot many surfing movies. At about 5pm everyday, you would see all the surfers from the town (locals and tourists alike) head into the ocean in masses with their surfboards. I saw a few people get eaten alive by the waves, but was I was also impressed when watching some of the most experience surfers. It was truly like watching a surf scene out of a movie.

Busua was a town full of interesting people from around the world. There were so many people there who were backpacking across Africa, then ended up loving Busua so much that they just stayed there. There were a few who were there for a few weeks, and one Irishman who was turned a 3 day vacation into a 6 month vacation.

About a 15 minute walk from Busua is Dixcove. This is a pretty big fishing town, but definitely not a tourist spot due to the rock beaches and overall uncleanliness of the town and beaches. Dixcove is the home of a huge, white, abandoned fort, which was the most attacked fort in Ghana during the colonial times. I tried to go up and explore it a little bit, but was only harassed by kids asking for money.



Overall, this was a great vacation, and an excellent break from the landlocked Burkina. I am planning on going back to Ghana, and exploring even more.

The Spelling Bee

For the last few months, most of my time and energy has gone towards planning a region-wide English Spelling Bee. The Spelling Bee took place this past weekend, and I’m happy to say that it went off smoothly with no big problems.

There were fourteen participating schools, which gave a total of 41 students who participated. Each school ran a preliminary Spelling Bee to determine the best three students. Then, the students would study privately with their volunteer for about a month to learn the words, and the rules of a Spelling Bee, an idea foreign to them.

On Friday, all of the students arrived with their volunteers in Orodara. The students all stayed at a center here which was loaned to us at no cost. On Friday, we started the Spelling Bee with some ice breakers, games and an introduction (which of course included rules, like no boys in the girls’ room). After, we ran a practice Spelling Bee. This gave not only the students, but also the judges (two Burkinabe English teachers) the opportunity to see what exactly would happen the next day. It gave me the chance to iron out some unforeseen problems.

This day, naturally, didn’t pass without a few hiccups. The first and biggest problem was caused by a simple text message. On Friday morning, we (all the volunteers) received a text that our closest city was temporarily off limits due to some violent events that occurred the previous day. This is not the first, nor the last time, that we will receive something like this, so it usually isn’t a big thing. Well, that day it was a big thing because half of the students and volunteers participating had to travel through that city to get here. After a lot of stressful phone calls and panicked volunteers, we got everyone here safely.

The day only got better once all of the students arrived. It started off with a minor flood because some of the students had never seen a water spicket before, and therefore had no clue how to use it. I got panicked yells from some of the students, “Mrs. Sara! Help me! The water won’t stop!” The kids were trying desperately to catch the shooting water in buckets before I got there to turn off the knob. Another interesting incident occurred when a kid pooped in the shower. I see a group of boys running up to me, “Someone pooped in the shower!!!” As much as I tried, I couldn’t stop myself from laughing at this one. Thankfully, this was at the time when the chaperones were changing so I was no longer in charge. I sent the kids over to the new chaperone to deal with that problem.

Finally, the day I had been planning for had arrived… at 6am. Of course, this day wouldn’t start without some type of emergency as well. The woman who was supposed to be preparing breakfast for the kids never showed up. Thankfully, someone knew where she lived at and was able to get her.

Shortly after, the ‘important people’ who were invited to the event started showing up. This included our Peace Corps Director, the top Commissioner from my region, the mayor, the police commander, and several important education officials. Although we invited all these people, I doubted that any of them would want to come to this small event. They were only supposed to watch the opening remarks and the first round, but most stayed the entire day! They thought the Spelling Bee was so interesting and chose to stay there and watch it all.



The rest of the day could not have gone better. I was worried that the rounds would go too fast because the kids didn’t know any of the words, or that some kid would memorize all the words and it would be too boring for the audience. But, it was perfect. Each round, about 5 kids were eliminated, and we had a small break before starting the next round. We eliminated 32 kids in the morning, and stopped at noon to eat and rest before starting the afternoon rounds. The final rounds were very interesting because all the kids left were really good, and everyone in the audience was pulling for someone. Everyone was engaged and eager to see their kid win. Because I was a judge, I was trying my best to remain fair, but I really, really wanted my kids to win!



After a heated back and forth between the last two (neither of which were mine unfortunately), we finally had our winner. The kid was extremely excited about winning. The first prize was a bicycle, and various school supplies, which were presented by the top commissioner. The second prize was a new school bag and school supplies, and the third prize was the school supplies. Afterwards, the winners were all interviewed and photographed by a journalist. I think this part was more excited for them than actually winning.



After the Spelling Bee, everyone was so happy with how well organized it went. All the volunteers had a great time, and the important people thought it was a great idea. A few talked to me about continuing it next year!



That night, we organized a small ceremony to celebrate all of the kids who participated. We wanted to congratulate everyone, and not just the three who won. Each kid received a French/English dictionary as well as a participation award. During the competition, some of the students who were disqualified were really upset, and some cried, so the celebration was a great surprise to them. The dictionaries cheered them all up, and they were really excited about showing off their dictionaries to their schoolmates at home. After the dinner, we all danced to a mix of Burkinabe and American music. I’m sure the students thought we were crazy when they saw us all dancing around like idiots, but they all had a great time.



All in all, the Spelling Bee went off without a hitch (… mostly), and I’m so glad that I did this. Although, I’m also glad that it’s all over and now I’m heading off to the beach for a nice little vacation.

Transportation in Burkina is Really Fun…

Have you ever been in a taxi or a bus with no break pads, one that has run out of gas in the middle of the road, one that has broken down on the side of the road for 13 hours, or one that has left 6 hours late for no apparent reason? All of these things have happened to me here at least once, and some on multiple occasions.

I have two methods of transport: my bicycle and public transport. My bike I use on a daily basis to do everything in close proximity, which includes rolling (literally) up to school to teach while I’m hot, sweaty, covered in dirt, and don’t forget my helmet. Although this is a pain, and I’ve had my share, or more than my share, of bicycle accidents, this is the preferable method when possible because the other option is public transport.

Public transport… how do I even start to describe it? When you step into the bus station, which is literally an empty, dusty, dirty lot with a latrine if I’m lucky, you have no idea what lies ahead of you. I have been on plenty of trips that went off without a problem, and I have been on a lot of trips that make me never want to leave my house again.



Public transport comes in two types: somewhat reliable buses, or bush taxis. Now, I’ve had my share of ‘fun experiences’ in the reliable buses, including have the door fly off on the highway, the tire fall off, and having a baby poop in a cup next to me. Once, after a much anticipated departure, the bus pulled out into the road, then immediately broke down horizontally across the road blocking the entire thing.

But the real fun starts with the bush taxis. They cars they used change on a daily basis, so it’s all luck of the draw what car you get. Sometimes you get a ‘good’ one with real seats and all the windows. Sometimes you get the bad ones where you sit on crates, and there are holes big enough in the ground that a baby could fall through. One of my favorite times was sitting behind the driver, who had no seat (see picture below). He was sitting on the metal part that one would normally hook a seat on. Then, as we prepare to take off, he starts the car by hot wiring it. Almost every bush taxi I’ve ever been in has to be pushed by a few people to get it started.





No matter what type of transport you get, two things will always be the same. One… they will always pack in at least double the amount of people than the car should normally hold. And two… they will pack any luggage, no matter of the size. This includes any amount of motorcycles and bicycles, any living animal you can imagine, or even a car (which I actually saw once). Often times, the crap piled on top of the car is at least 2-3 times higher than the height of the actual car. Thank god the cars are so crappy that they can’t go very fast.





After living here for a year and a half, almost nothing surprises me about transportation anymore. But, I must admit that funniest part of all this is imagine my parents doing transport here. They are planning on visiting here, and I can’t wait to put them on public transportation. The thought of them cramming into a car like cattle, or holding some woman’s baby who’s peeing on you, or having a chicken flapping around at their feet… priceless.

Fishing & Hiking

A few weeks ago, I took a nice trip away from my busy city life into “the brousse” (AKA the middle of no where) to visit another volunteer’s site. Despite its close proximity to me, it took a whopping 11 hours to cover the 90 kilometer distance. The road is bad… to put it nicely. But on the other side of the 11 hour trip was the gorgeous Burkina landscape.

Most of the weekend was spent relaxing and taking in the beautiful scenery. With a backdrop like something out of ‘The Lion King’ how could you not enjoy it? The two highlights of the trip included me fishing and a trip out to one of Burkina’s lesser known tourist attractions.

I have to say, if I was a Burkinabe man, I would choose fishing as my occupation. The one hour I spent out on the lake collecting the fish was a most serene and peaceful experience. I’m saying this because I wasn’t the one who had to spend the energy paddling me across the lake and scooping buckets of water out of the boat. I’m sure his job was less relaxing than mine.



The fishing experience started with the fisherman taking me to his boat, which looked like something a boy scout would’ve made, and was half drowning before I even got in it. Anyway, then we headed out into the middle of the lake where he set up large nets spanning the distance of the lake. We (and by we, I mean he) would pull the boat by the net, and at the same time, lifting the nets out of the water to see if any fish were caught in them. There were four nets, which were set up in a square around the lake. In only an hour’s time, we caught 6 pretty big fish! Then, afterwards, the fisherman, thanking me for all of my ‘help’ gave me 4 of the fish for free! Needless to say, after de-scaling them and gutting them, they were delicious!





The next day after fishing, we biked out to a small village at the base of cliffs. In the 60’s in these cliffs, the people used to live in small mud huts, some of which are still there today.



This is a picture of the inside of the king’s house. There are two “rooms”, which housed a total of 8 people!

Christmas in Burkina

Some of my Christmas decorations at my house.


My M&M Christmas cookies I made. It took forever because I could only cook six at a time on a cake sheet in my "oven". But they were delicious!!


Everyone in Bobo preparing our Christmas feast.


Drinking out of the fancy cups that my Gram sent. They were the hit of the party.



Getting ready to enjoy our Christmas feast.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!

It’s that time of the year again. I can’t believe this is my second Christmas spent away from my family and friends. Although I put up my (pathetic) Christmas decorations and have Christmas candles, it doesn’t feel like Christmas and I wish that I was home more than anywhere else.

Anyway, so I just wanted to say Happy Holidays to everyone at home! I love you, miss you and am thinking of you!

World AIDS Day

December 1st is World AIDS Day. Peace Corps encourages all of its’ volunteers to do some type of activity on this day to raise awareness. This year, our volunteer health committee wanted all the volunteers across the country to do a mural. Although I’ve never done anything like this before, it sounded easy enough and fun so I decided to give it a shot.

The idea behind the mural is that people will pledge to live a better and healthier life, and then once they pledge this, they will put their handprint on the wall. Because I live in a city, Althea (my site mate) and I decided to target the youth of Orodara rather than everyone. So, we went around to all five of the middle and high schools here, and explained to each class the project. Most volunteers only have one school in their town, so this was a little more work than expected. We ended up inviting about 2000 students, but I assume that more than half of them probably didn’t actually understand what the two crazy white women were trying to explain, so I wasn’t expecting a large turnout.

A week before the kids came, we went to our local health center to ask if we could have a wall there for the mural. The director was incredibly easy to work with, and although I’ve lived here for a year and a half, I was surprised by his willingness to let us do whatever we wanted. He never once asked what we were actually doing a mural of. He just gave us a wall and said, “Go ahead and paint”. Easy enough.

The first step was painting the wall white. This was probably the easiest step of the project. Althea and I showed up at the health center with two rollers and a tub of white paint. Neither one of us really had any idea what we were doing or had ever painted anything before, but hell, it’s Africa. Not only was there a huge crack in the middle of the wall which made things challenging, but my soon, my paintbrush was covered in cobwebs and dust from the corners of the room. Before I knew it, not only we were covered in paint from head to toe, but so was the floor, the desks and the benches in the room. Then, the director came in. I thought he was going to be mad that there was paint everywhere, but instead he said, “Great job! You are like professional painters!” Hah! I couldn’t believe it.

A few days later, we went back to paint the title of the mural, which read, “World AIDS Day 2011”. We also painted the pledge and an AIDS ribbon. The pledge was as follows (except in French):

I promise to live a healthier life. I promise to protect myself against
AIDS and other STI’s. I promise, as well, to protect others. I will
work to eliminate the stigma of HIV/AIDS, so others who are HIV positive
will be able to live with us in peace. Also,I will pass along information
about HIV/AIDS so that everyone in my community can remain in good health.

December 1st conveniently fell on a Thursday, which was helpful because students don’t have class on Thursday afternoons. We told of all the students to come to the health center between 2pm and 6pm to made the pledge and put their handprint on the wall. On that day, I prepared some questions and answers that I put on the wall, some general information, and I dug out my sex kit Peace Corps provides including a wooden penis and vagina. I set everything up so that the kids would have something to look at, and so that we looked prepared haha.

Because I was expecting a very low turnout, I even told my students I would give them bonus points on the next test if they came. So, 2:00 rolls around and there’s no one, then 2:30, still no one. We thought we were going to have to put our own handprints on the wall, and make up initials so the project didn’t look like a total dud. Finally, one student shows up, and we were so excited. Then, a little bit after 3:00, the masses came. They all came at once and in large groups that totally overwhelmed us because we were expecting no one haha. Needless to say, this got a little bit out of control with tons of middle school kids running around with paint on their hand. Not to mention, a lot of inappropriate action was going on by boys involving my wooden penis and vagina… thanks Peace Corps haha. But by 4:30, there was hardly any space left on the wall! We couldn’t fit many more handprints on the wall. More than 200 kids showed up!



The director of the health center was incredibly impressed with the project and really excited about talking to the kids about the pledge. He took them in groups and explained each line to make sure they truly understood what was going on, and then gave out condoms at the end of the presentation (this was by far the students’ favorite part).



Each time I attempt a project here, I have low expectations. I think that people won’t understand or won’t show up. When in fact, each time I have the opposite problem, too many people come that I’m unprepared to deal with such a huge crowd. I guess that’s a good problem to have.

The Commencement of Peace Corps Year 2

So, I know I haven’t written a blog in a while. I’d like to say it’s because I’ve been incredibly busy and I haven’t had the time, but actually it’s because Africa got my electronics. Not only my computer, but my camera broke at the same time. Thankfully, my computer just needed cleaning (the inside was completely full of dust and dirt. The technician said it was the dirtiest computer he’d ever seen ha.), but my camera’s still down for the count, so for the time being, no more pictures :)

The first thing I want to say is THANK YOU! My library project was funded in less than 2 weeks! I was nervous that it wouldn’t get funded or it would take too long that I wouldn’t be able to finish it before I left this country, but thanks to all my family and friends out there, it was completely funded in record timing! I’ve received a list of donors for my project, and I’d like to say a special thanks to these people:

Becky D… or should I say Rebecca Lowe 
Amy & Jeff Burroughs
Ben Morton
Verena Koller
Tim Coull
MSE
Bob Schiltz & Jean Bigger

I literally would not have been able to do this project without you! I’m happy to say that yesterday I received the money, so the project will be able to start today! I know other people sent in donations, but they weren’t received in time, so thank you everyone else who donated! Your money will go towards funding other Peace Corps’ volunteer projects.

Next big topic: the fair. As many of you know (… or maybe you don’t ha), in September, we organized a big fair to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Peace Corps, and the 50th anniversary of Burkina Faso, which happened to fall on the same year. Each volunteer in the country (now there are about 150!) came together to showcase our work across the country. It was interesting to see all of the work that other volunteers are doing. There was everything from traditional fabric to dancing to jewelry and clothes to nutritious plants… anything you could think of, it was there! (I’d also like to mention that I spent a significant amount of time shopping for presents, so a lot of you will be receiving a nice little present in the mail.)

I brought a jeweler from Orodara that I’ve been working with. He handcrafts silver jewelry. It was really fun because I was able to help him figure out how to market his jewelry to tourists and visitors. I also taught him about bookkeeping and accounting. Although I really know nothing about money and only took Business 101 at the university, I was able to teach him an incredible amount about money management. As Americans, we learn things and pick up information throughout our lives that we never even realize, and probably take for granted. At the fair, he was able to meet the 1st lady of Burkina, the prime minister, and the Ambassador to America, and not to mention, we were on TV a few times as well. This is a pretty big deal to a small town artisan who has never attended school a day in his life.

As I’m sure many of you have assumed this, but another school year has started. We started school at the beginning of October. This year, I cut down the number of hours I am teaching so that I can focus on other projects. I am only teaching 10 hours (which is actually the new Peace Corps maximum for education volunteers) of English. I have 2 sections of the same grade… a grade roughly equivalent to 7th grade. Teaching this year is going much smoother than last year. I restructured the curriculum (because the old one didn’t make sense), and came up with new ways to motivate the students. Also, my French has improved significantly, which makes everything easier.

That’s all the updates for now. Hopefully, I can figure out what’s wrong with my camera and repair that so pictures will come soon.

HELP ME BUILD A SCHOOL LIBRARY

Think back to your middle school and high school days. Think about how many of your friends and siblings ever failed a grade. In my case, I can count that number on one hand. Now, imagine a school where less than 50% of the students pass. This is the reality that I’m facing in my school in Orodara.

In the 2010-2011 school year, 48% of my students passed middle school and were able to continue to high school, and a shocking 24% of my students passed their senior year of high school! These numbers can be attributed to any number of things: extremely large class sizes, overworked and underpaid teachers, insufficient teacher training, or a lack of textbooks. Unfortunately, most of these things are problems that I do not have the ability to tackle, but luckily, there is one that I can: the lack of books.



Over the past year, I have spent countless hours in meetings with my administration, my teachers’ union, and my parents’ association to come up with a way we can solve this problem. The answer is to build a school library. This not only gives the students a way to claim ownership over their education, but it also gives the teachers new resources that were previously unavailable to them.

Currently, students spend hours of in-class time copying intricate biology diagrams, or complicated math equations. Now that students will have access to textbooks, this time can be better utilized. They can also do research, or simply read for fun. Teachers used outdated or incorrect textbooks for their lesson planning. For example, one history book says that America has 55 states. How can a developing country develop when they cannot even educate their own citizens? Education is the first and most critical step of development.



My school has been able to hire a librarian, delegate a student committee to deal with library problems, and put aside about $430 for books. In order to get this library up and running, I need your help! Your money will buy books, maps, shelves and tables. 100% of your money will go directly to the benefit of my students.

If you are interested in helping, please go to https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=686-162

Le Tour de Burkina 2011

August kicked off the 2nd annual “Tour de Burkina”, where volunteers bike 1,700 kilometers in 23 days. The point of the tour is to raise money to support Gender and Development projects, such as girls’ camps to promote self esteem, or helping a women’s group raise money. You can follow a day to day update of their progress at burkinabiketour.blogspot.com.

Biking 1,700 kilometers is not something that would interest me, but I hosted the bike tour on August 31st. My town was their first official stop. This included housing and feeding 10 volunteers and organizing an awareness campaign for them to attend. They arrived at my house after 2 hours and 50 kilometers with no problems (except a little mud) and no injuries. Unfortunately, I wasn’t as lucky. I was biking 3 minutes down the road to meet them when I had a small bike accident. I was fine, except for a few cuts. I must admit that my ego was bruised when I arrived covered in blood, dirt and sweat to meet this group of volunteers.

My nearest volunteer neighbor came in for the day to help me host, and organize all of this. We decided to do a theater presentation. There were two different skits, which were based around the themes of girls staying in school, nutrition, and family planning. We had about 12 young girls who were the actresses, and were diligently practicing daily for their big performance. We had been advertising the presentation for a few weeks on the radio and telling as many people as we could. The presentation started at 2:00 pm, but because this is West Africa, that really means about 3:00. Although I know this, I was nervous when there was not a single person in the room at 3:00, but luckily, by 3:30, the room was packed with about 70 people, plus the bike tour volunteers, which I consider a success.

Dogon Country, Mali

This week I went on one of the most amazing and challenging vacations of my life. Being a PCV in West Africa, you constantly hear about Dogon country in Mali. All I knew about it was that it was some type of mountain formation, and a lot of volunteers hiked it. I really wasn’t all that interested in hiking mountains for a week, but I got invited by a fellow volunteer and figured, hell, why not. So, I was off… headed for Mali.

As I was sitting in the taxi, sweating because it was the middle of the desert, we drove over a hill and I got my first glimpses of Dogon country. I immediately realized why volunteers come here and realized this was going to be an incredible trip.

The Dogon people, up until very recently (1960’s) lived in mud houses built into the side of mountains. At about that time, the forest at the base of the mountains was disappearing and the pygmy people who lived in the forest migrated to the DRC, which allowed the Dogon people to move out of their cliff houses to the base of the mountains. Luckily, their houses and mountain-side villages are still intact today.



The Dogon people were 100% animist. Today, they are still mainly animist, but there are also Catholics and Muslims as well. During the trip, we got to see a lot of their ‘fetishes’ (black magic). When we first arrived in Dogon, we saw an amazing waterfall. Our tour guide, Oumar, informed us that the waterfall is cursed. The Dogon believe the waterfall is sacred, and therefore do sacrifices for it. Last year, despite the warnings of the Dogon not to swim in the waterfall, tourists did swim there. According to Oumar, when the tourists got in the water, the water turned boiling hot, which scalded and killed the tourists immediately. This is not the first or only story about the sacred waterfall killing naïve tourists.



Oumar, our tour guide, is from Dogon. He not only speaks English, but knows everything there is to know about Dogon. He was an incredible guide and made our trip what it was.



Because I knew nothing about Dogon before going there, I was not anticipating how challenging the trip would be. I thought we would just saunter along the mountains for a few days, passing villages and seeing the mountains houses. This could not have been more wrong. We hiked into the mountains and to the mountain peaks. If this were America, you would definitely have to sign a death waiver, or have special mountain climbing certifications to do this. It was, without a doubt, the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Day 2 of our climb, Oumar points to a crevasse at the top of the mountain, and says, “You see that gap up there? That’s where we’re climbing today”. I thought he was fucking with me, but a few hours and 3 blisters later, I was sitting at the top of the mountain looking down on the village we just came from.



Never in my life have I been so scared that I couldn’t move… until this trip. At one point, we reached a ladder carved out of wood resting between two rocks. Once again, I thought Oumar was fucking with me when he said we had to climb that ‘ladder’. I put one foot on the ladder, and made the biggest mistake ever… I looked down. I looked down into nothing-ness. There was nothing below the ladder! At this point, I really didn’t think I could make it. I thought I was going to have to turn around. Luckily, that fear lasted about 5 seconds and I was able to push myself through it. Then, thankfully I was at the other side.



I could continue writing about this trip, but instead, I want you to see the pictures. I uploaded the rest onto my snapfish account and they’ll do a hell of a lot better explaining this trip then I ever could, so enjoy :)
http://www2.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=3567594022/a=1579671022_1579671022/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/

The Arrival of the New Trainees

Two years ago, I was finishing up training in Guinea. I was glad to be done, and at the same time looking forward to coming back to stage the next year as a trainer. Then, I was evacuated. The next year, when I should have been a trainer, I was a trainee again, sitting through the same exact sessions I had the previous year. It was torturous… to say the least. At the end of my second training, I wanted nothing to do with coming back to training as a trainer. I wanted to be far away from training. Then, after a few months at site, I changed my mind. I remembered why I wanted to be a trainer to begin with. I wanted to help the new trainees who come to Africa with big goals and ambitions, then arrive here and are sick, scared, hot, tired and confused all the time. I wanted to help them and share my own personal experiences and tell them that it really isn’t that hard and despite what you think now, you will get used to it, and you will be comfortable living alone here. So, I applied to be a trainer and luckily, they chose me.

Each trainer works 2 weeks of the training, and my 2 weeks are split up between the beginning and the end. I chose it this way because I thought it would be fun to see the trainees at these two points of stage and see how they’ve changed. It’s really amazing how quickly one can adapt living into a completely new environment and being completely comfortable in it.

Last week was my first week at training. I was looking forward to it. I was excited to meet the new trainees. As a volunteer trainer, we are responsible for working with the program director of education to plan all technical sessions. Because this was only the first week, there weren’t many technical sessions, so there wasn’t a lot for me to do. It was mostly core sessions, like health, safety, etc. I was there with 2 other volunteers, and we were in charge of only three sessions: Intro to Education in Burkina Faso, Project Framework of the Education Program, and Demyst Preparation. The first two have to do with the basics of the Peace Corps Burkina Faso program in general. They are boring sessions, but important for the trainees to learn at the beginning. The third session was about Demyst, or ‘demystification’, which is when the trainees in groups of 3-4 to volunteer sites for a few days to see what the life of a volunteer is life. I have to admit, the most exciting part of the week was that the volunteer house at the training site had a brand new oven, which I used to make cookies for the trainees. On Thursday, the trainees left and headed out for demyst, so before I knew it, I was finished with my first week of training.

But, then came the fun part, demyst. I had 4 trainees and their French teacher at my house for 4 days. I was nervous because I wanted to give them a good impression of Burkina, and wanted to get them excited to be a volunteer, and I didn’t want any of them to get sick, it was only their first week. Luckily, I was at the training site, so I was able to travel with them back to my site. This made their lives significantly easier and less chaotic. Traveling here can be extremely difficult if you don’t know what you’re doing. Thankfully, we made it to my site with no problems. For the next few days, I showed them around town and introduced them to the life of a volunteer. We went on a school tour, to the market, to a women’s association, and of course, we went to drink dolo. A lot of times, trainees come back from demyst sick and knowing where they don’t want to go for their service. When my demyst-ers left, none of them were sick and they all wanted to come live in my region! I think this means I succeeded in planning a good demyst and showed them a good introduction to life as a volunteer.

An Unplanned Cross-Country Trip

I’m currently in Ouaga for training, TOT (training of trainers). It’s a weeklong training that prepares us volunteers along with the rest of the Peace Corps staff to become trainers for the new trainees coming in. This is really exciting because we look forward to new groups of trainees who arrive only 2 times per year. This time, being a seasoned and experienced volunteer, I am a trainer for the new trainees. Their training will be different from ours because the education program has completely changed and been restructured (for the better, in my opinion) since last year. Due to this, their stage is longer than ours was, and they go through a lot of significant training that I never had, but wish I did. We are also welcoming a brand new sector this time, an Agriculture program. But, this is neither here nor there. What I really want to tell you about is my unplanned and unwanted tour of Burkina.

Normally, my trip from my site to the capital is about 7 hours, in an air conditioned bus (NOT a bush taxi… thank god), and on a paved road (a luxury most volunteers do not have). So, all in all, my trip, although rather long, is much better than a lot of other peoples. Well, 3 days before I’m supposed to be in Ouaga, a PC staff calls me and tells me that due to security reasons, I cannot travel my normal route and am forced to find a new one. I, of course, have no clue to a secondary route, so I’m frantically calling other volunteers to try to find one. Unfortunately, there was only one option. A route that took me on a cross country trip, which not only costed an arm and a leg, took 3 days, but was entirely bush taxis. I was rushing around trying to get my things together because I realized I had to leave ASAP or I wouldn’t be there in time. All my clothes were hanging on the line to try. Thank god it’s a million degrees here and they dry in about an hour ha. And for all of you that know me, you know that I am not a light packer, but due to the unusual circumstances surrounding this trip, I had no other option. I know my Dad would be proud of the fact that I only brought one bookbag and a purse for 10 days away.

My first leg of the trip wasn’t too bad. It was only 2 hours on a bush taxi. But, I was squished between a big woman and crying baby. I couldn’t move an inch, so in true west African spirit, they fit in 5 more people. Now, I’m holding the crying baby while the mom is holding the taxi door close, and a brown liquid is dripping on me from the ceiling. Super. Thank god it was only 2 hours ha.

The next part of my trip was significantly longer. I woke up at 5:30 because I had no clue where the taxi left from or what time, so I figure it would be better for me to get there earlier. Thankfully, it was easier than I thought. I arrived at the taxi station, and a man says, “Hey! White person, where are you going?” I tell him, and he tells his apprentice to take my bag and puts in on a taxi and voila… I have a taxi. Easy as that. Now, I just have to wait. Normally, in all my taxi experiences, they do not leave the station unless the car is completely full. Then, they will add 5 more people, a goat, some chickens, and a man hops on the roof. This could take 30 minutes or 5 hours. You never know. I ask the driver when he’s leaving and he says, “Tout suite!” (Very soon). I ask if he actually means very soon, or very soon after the car is full. He assures me that no, we will be leaving very soon. I’m doubtful. Then 30 minutes later, he says, “Hey! White person, get in the car, we’re leaving.” So, I head over, and hop in and to my surprise, I’m the only person in the car. And, not to my surprise, the driver was not the owner of the car, but his 15 year old apprentice. We leave the station and pull over about 3 minutes later. I ask what’s going on, and, of course, they don’t speak French, so I have no clue. And I’m still the only person in the taxi. Eventually, the owner comes, and we head off… to the gas station. “Hey! White person, we need you to pay so we can get gas.” I hand over my fare, he fills up an empty bucket with gas so we don’t have to stop along the road, and finally, we’re off for real. About 2 hours later, we pull over in a town, and the taxi driver hops out of my taxi, and without saying a word, hops in another passing taxi going in the opposite direction. What the heck?! I swear, sometimes, I do not understand Burkina Faso and the people here. How can you just leave me, the taxi and the apprentice on the side of the road without saying anything?? I sit and wait and wait, and then I go to pee (which ended up being very complicated because, again, no one spoke French and so they couldn’t understand what I wanted. It ended up being a very embarrassing pantomime with me squatting near the ground pretending to pee.) An hour and a half later, the driver saunters over ( don’t worry… he just had to eat), hops in and again, we’re off. For 20 minutes until we have to stop again. This time, the driver and the apprentice hop out and TAKE A NAP! I’m not kidding, they took a nap on the side of the road for 30 minutes! Finally, after them waking up due to me “gently” throwing stones at them to wake them, they get in and we continue. When, of course, 30 minutes later, we have to stop again to pick up some people. This took about 20 minutes because it took 5 men to heave a bag of rotted meat onto the roof of the taxi. I can only assume, they were planning on selling this meat in the city. In a country where deodorant doesn’t exist and latrines do, bad odors don’t faze me that often, but holy shit, that rotting meat… I honestly thought I was going to throw up in the taxi. And, to make matters worse, they were heaving the bag up on my side of the car, so the blood and random pieces were dripping down my window, where they dried instantly due to the scorching heat and I was forced to look at them for the rest of the trip. Again, we’re off, and this time, only 7 hours since leaving my original destination, we finally make it there. A fellow volunteer met me at the station and the first thing he said to me was, “Why did your taxi take so long?”

The next day, I wake up really early and start on my third and final leg of the journey. This, thank god, was a bus and a rather long trip, which I was thankful for because that means the bus will be air conditioned. HA! Once again, I was wrong. The volunteer warns me that this transport company is horrible and to be ready. So, I get there really early and buy my ticket. The bus was supposed to leave at 8, and, of course, the bus arrived at 8:20 full of people. I head over and wait for the people to get off the bus, which is when I realize that the people on my bus have already forced themselves onto the bus. They, literally, push people out of the way to get on the bus. Despite being the first person there, I was one of the last people to make it on the bus. There are no assigned seats, so if you’re the last person on the bus, you will have to stand for the entire 6 hour bus ride. In my case, I was seated between two very large and loud African women who insisted on getting off the bus at every single stop to buy a snack to eat on the bus, one of which was fried chicken. You know, an easy, on-the-go snack. So, I’m trying my best to sleep so I can pass the time easier. Despite it being so hot you want to die, the trip went smoothly with no big hiccups and I made it to Ouaga on time.

After that really long trip, I decided that I deserved to eat well, and so, this week while being here, I’ve been splurging… eating anything with cheese and chocolate ha. Unfortunately, my week is about over and my wallet is significantly smaller, and now I have to head back to site.

Witch Doctors, Charms and Spells

One of the most fascinating aspects of African culture is their religion. In Burkina, about 60% of people are Muslim, 40% are Catholic, and 100% are animists. They believe that spirits can move all objects, such as animals, trees and rocks. I have heard stories of people being arrested or even killed because other believed they were ‘skin changers’. They believe that humans can take animal form, especially cats, to carry out revenge. If the act was carried out while a human was in their animal form, they cannot be held responsible because it wasn’t them who carried out the task.

The Burkinabe believe the spirits here are very powerful, but can be pleased with offerings or animal sacrifices. I have witnessed several animal sacrifices for the land to remain plentiful, for the rivers to continue running with water, or for farms to have a lot of crops. The spirits can bring about health, happiness, wealth, or a variety of other positive things.

I have also been witness to the outcomes of unhappy spirits. Almost every accident or illness is attributed to a bad spirit who has been sent by someone. When someone falls sick, before taking them to a hospital, they will be taken to a marabout, or more commonly known as a witch doctor. They believe that you became ill because you did something bad to someone else. Then, this person sought out a witch to send a curse your way.

A few months ago, there was a young man staying with my neighbors’ for a few weeks. Towards the end of his stay, he started acting very strange. He wouldn’t sleep at all. He would wander the river behind my house, the area traditionally known to be a sacred place for witches. He refused to drink water or eat any of their food. His calm demeanor suddenly changed. My neighbors’ family became very stressed out about this, and called his family to come immediately. They explained to me that he came from a pagan family, and his recent change in behavior was due to that. Someone had cursed him. His family came and took him to a marabout where they carried out a traditional ceremony to remove the curse. I tried to convince them to let me come and meet the witch doctor and see the traditional ceremony, but they wouldn’t let me. Apparently, afterwards, he was cured and returned to his life as normal.

The town I live in has a significant pagan community. When I first found this out, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I half expected to meet someone who dressed in black and did spells, like in stereotypical movies. Of course, I had to meet one to learn more about them and their beliefs. I did so rather quickly and easily, and after several conversations found that it is nothing more than a belief in several gods and spirits. They believe witches can curse people, or bring about good things. They believe that marabouts can in fact remove the curses.

Ever since I arrived here, I’ve been hearing about this ‘pagan mask ceremony’ that takes place in May. Well, now it’s May and the ceremony has arrived. I’ve learned that for an entire week, the town shuts down. Everything closes and no one can leave their houses due to the sacred and secret ceremony. The pagan men wear masks and go around to all the parts of the town to do ‘fetishes’, or curses. In this case, they are good curses. They are blessing the town and the people. But here comes the weird part, no one outside of their religion can see this. If you see by accident, they will curse you or kidnap you for the duration of the ceremony. If you see on purpose, they will send a curse that will kill you. For an entire week, they cover every inch of the town with their blessings. They wear masks, play flutes and drums, and they dance. Needless to say, I want to avoid all curses so I’m leaving town haha.

At first, I thought people were bullshitting me. I didn’t believe in any of this ‘black magic’ nonsense and thought it was all a hoax. I’ve talked to a lot of people about this subject, and I haven’t come across one person who doesn’t believe in it. I thought that maybe the more educated people who live in cities would think this is fake but they don’t. On the contrary, they are afraid of it. If nothing about these witches, curses and witch doctors are true then why do people still believe in them after hundreds of years?

Appreciating the Differences

I started a correspondence program between some of my students and a class from Philadelphia. As soon as I collected the letters from my students, I had at least 5 students ask me every single day whether I received the responses yet. I felt like I could sympathize with my parents from our long car trip days to Chicago, “Are we there yet? I’m hungry! When are we stopping?” Considering there’s a significant time gap in mail to and from the states, I heard this question a lot. Well, this week, I finally received the letters, and I was as excited to tell my students that they arrived as they were to hear that they arrived.

I was impressed with my students’ ability to translate the letters from English to French, considering they are only in their second year of English. But, I ran into some unforeseen questions, questions I wasn’t expecting.

One American student wrote in the letter, “In America, we have malls. Malls are where teenagers hang out.” So, then my student asked, “What’s a mall?” How do you explain this concept to a kid from a developing country? A country where the only places to buy clothes are vendors on the side of the road who sell used clothes that people in America don’t want. (But, I’ll admit, I search through those side-of-the-road clothes piles and have had some good finds)

The next topic was snow. The American students wrote about the four seasons, which is always an interesting topic because the climate here is so extremely difficult. The students here know the word snow. They know it translates to “la neige”, but they don’t have a damn clue what that actually is. So, I’m trying to explain to them that it’s frozen water, but not like ice. It’s soft, and you can play with it. I think I confused them so much it would have been better for me to just say I don’t know what it is. That conversation was difficult enough, imagine the conversations I had afterwards involving snowmen and snowball fights. If anyone can tell me how to explain this concept to these kids, I would appreciate it. Better yet, can anyone send me a snow machine hahah.

The last thing they couldn’t comprehend was how big schools in America are. One student wrote that he was in classroom number 113. Then, my students asked what does that mean? I explained that every classroom has a number so you know where to go. In my middle/high school, there are 704 students, 7 grades and 7 classrooms. So, when I try to explain that there are many different classes for each grade and each one has a number, they were blown away. They couldn’t believe there was a school with 113 classrooms in it.

It’s not that I don’t recognize the differences, but I’ve lived here long enough to accept them. I forget about the differences, and so when I get questions like, “What’s a mall?”, “What’s a snowman?”, or “There are 113 rooms in one building?!?”, it puts me back in check. It reminds me how different the lives of people here are compared to the complicated lives we live in America. Is one way better than another? No. But, one way does have malls haha.

Trapped

Where to begin? Over the last few weeks, despite all my efforts to stay positive and happy, I’ve mentally checked out. I have the same feelings of being lost, confused and trapped as I did after being evacuated last year.

Due to the constant unrest here from all groups ranging from military to students to vendors, it has made my life extremely difficult. It has been a continuous question mark of what will happen next. Schools are constantly being cancelled due to protests, life in general is disrupted, all major cities are off limits, and I go to bed at night listening to automatic rifles shots. Is this what my life as a Peace Corps volunteer should be?

I live my life day to day. My packed bags stare at me everyday asking me what am I still doing here. I am trying to eat up all my good, American care package food just in case tomorrow we get moved or evacuated. I run through lists in my head. Did I take pictures of everything here I want to remember? Did I buy gifts for everyone at home before I don’t have the chance to? Did I pack everything I don’t want to lose?

I’m not sure what my next step will or should be. Is the country stables out, will I be able to continue my work here as normal? Do I have the ability to mentally check back in and be the successful volunteer I want to be?

** This blog I wrote about a week ago when I was (obviously) having a hard time. I want to stress that not only am I safe, but I am back to a healthy state of mind. I wasn’t going to post this blog, I was about to delete it, but, I thought that my friends and family should know that sometimes life here is really hard. I go through situations that people at home cannot possibly understand and so this is my way of helping you all to understand a little bit.

Unrest... again.

For those of you who've talked to me recently, you know that the situation in Burkina isn't as peachy and calm as I'd like it to be. I thought I would share some information with you from a CNN article I found:

Ministers fired, smaller government created in Africa's Burkina Faso
From Ouezen Louis Oulon, For CNN

Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso (CNN) -- In the latest shake-up following weeks of popular unrest and sporadic violence, the top two political figures in Burkina Faso announced on the state-run media outlet that they'd fired 24 Cabinet ministers and formed a new, smaller government.

President Blaise Compaore and newly appointed Prime Minister Luc-Adolphe Tiao said Thursday night on Radio Television of Burkina that there will be 29 people in the new Cabinet, down from the 38 in place previously. The full rationale for the shuffling wasn't immediately made clear. Tiao is expected to take questions from the press in the coming days.

Besides ousting 24 ministers, the two men also said they have brought 15 different individuals into the administration. In addition, Compaore will serve as defense minister as well as president.

Djibril Bassole will become the landlocked West African nation's foreign affairs minister -- a position he'd earlier held, before being tapped as the joint United Nations-African Union mediator for the crisis in Darfur, Sudan.

The country's sitting foreign minister, Bedouma Alain Yoda, was among those left out in the new arrangement. The ministers for culture and tourism, infrastructure, health, education, environment, youth, social action and animal resources also have not been retained, according to Compaore and Tiao.

The new government combines several Cabinet branches. Among those, the telecommunication ministry joins with that of transportation, security comes into the ministry of administration, and the human rights ministry becomes part of the justice ministry.

This news came two days after Compaore tapped Tiao, Burkina Faso's former ambassador to France, as prime minister -- a report also broadcast on the national radio and television network.

All these moves follow several recent breakouts of popular discord and violence in the African nation.

Student protests have been ongoing in the nation since February, according to local media reports. These demonstrations came after a student reportedly died in jail.

On March 30, protests erupted over a court case. According to media reports, a man sued a group of five soldiers, claiming they forced him to take off his clothes and walk home because he had dated a soldier's girlfriend. The court found in favor of the man. During the violence that ensued, the defense minister said, his home was attacked.

A small group of presidential security guards revolted April 14over a disputed housing allowance that they said the president had promised them.

They fired shots inside the presidential compound and took to the streets, shooting guns, stealing cars and robbing people, according to defense ministry officials. Two children of a defense official were shot at in the melee and were hospitalized, officials said.

The defense ministry issued a statement the following day saying the soldiers had been paid. And Moussa Ag Abdoulaye, a spokesman for a group of security guards, said on state-run TV that its members remained committed to Compaore and called for a cease-fire.

Still the protests continued, during which buildings in the capital city, Ouagadougou, were set on fire. The president also reportedly replaced the head of the nation's army amid the violence.

The president was at the palace when the demonstrations began and left briefly under heavy security, but he later returned.

In recent days, a curfew was imposed, and sources in the city of Po said violence was also taking place there.

Spring Break- Burkina Style

After two trimesters completed (ok, 1.5 completed and a mini civil unrest), I am now on vacation. I have to say, I've never quite appreciated a break as much before. I met up with several other volunteers in the touristy town of Banfora, which not only includes electricity and wireless internet, but hippos and waterfalls. I mean you can't beat that.

I've been lounging at the pool and enjoying the internet almost everyday. I've been able to skype my family and friends, which has been wonderful :)

My grandma writes me a letter every single week telling me of the neighborhood gossip and keeps me informed on the TV shows. In every letter, she signs off saying, "Hello to the hippos for me!" So, I figured while I'm here, I should actually do that. I took off on yet another adventure. We arrived at the infamous tourist site, Tengrela. Here, we were greeted by two Burkinabe "tour guides" and two rickety wooden boats. We payed 1,000 CFA per person (the equivalent of $2), hopped in the boats and headed out in the unknown.

The tour guide, who actually was alot more well-informed about the lake and hippos than I thought he would be (that, or he was just bull shitting all his answers to the gullible white people). The guide, Soumaila, paddles the boat out in the middle of the lake, then stops. We all sat in silence awaiting the "main event". What would happen next? Where were the hippos? He hits the oar on the side of the boat and up pop about five hippos! It was incredible! He said they were the younger hipppos but they still looked really big to me. This is nothing like being at the zoo behind a glass wall or gated fence. Here, we were up close and person (and probably a little dangerous) with the hippos.








So, Grams, this is your "hi" to the hippos :)

Also, my snapfish picture account is updated.

The Day I Went on an Adventure

Unfortunately, all schools across Burkina are suspended until further notice. This, seeing as how teaching is my main job, left me with a lot of time on my hands. I graded over 300 papers, wrote 2 new tests, worked on my grant application, read a biography of John Lennon, and created a new recipe of rice and tuna burgers… and it was only Monday. Shit. This left with me a lot of empty time.

On Tuesday, I was feeling rather ambitious, or maybe I was just bored, so I decided to go on a bike ride. Seeing as how I am the most unathletic person ever, I figured I would take a nice, easy bike ride. I started pedaling out of town. I was pedaling, and then I started to get really tired and hot. I told myself I would ride for at least 30 minutes out of town, so I looked at my watch to see how long I was going, and to my great disappointment, it was only a whopping 4 minutes. Despite my laziness telling me to turn around immediately and go sit in front of my fan, I kept going. I made it up the big hill and was now cruising smoothly towards Mali. I kept going and impressed myself when I reached a small town 15 kilometers outside of my town. 15 kilometers! The furthest I ever rode my bike was around my neighborhood block, and that left me sweating and huffing afterwards. And now, I biked 15 kilometers. This is when I realized, I had to bike back. Crap. To my amazement, I made it home in one piece. Then, I took a nap. Haha.

On Wednesday, I woke up feeling like I got hit by a bus. My abs were hurting, my legs were sore, my back was aching. Shit, even my neck muscles hurt. And to top it off, I was sunburned. I decided this day I would definitely take an easy, which is when I received a text message from my neighbor saying he was in town for the day. Great, now I have to entertain someone when all I really want to do is sleep. And, I definitely do not want to get on my bike again. I met him after he finished some errands, then we met up with my site mate, Ben, to get some yogurt. This is when they decided they wanted to go on an adventure. I live in Africa, so “going on an adventure” could mean just about anything. I insisted I was not coming, but they weren’t having that and next thing I knew, I’m at my house filling up my water bottle, lacing up my sneakers and putting on sunscreen. Then, I had to get back on my bike. Ugh. Every part of my body screamed “NO!”, but I did it anyway. Little did I know at that moment, that that adventure would turn out to be one of the funnest days I’ve had here in a while.

Ben said he knows a great route we can follow that follows the river and leads “en brousse” (AKA to the middle of nowhere). We follow our faithful leader and 20 minutes later, we were back at Ben’s house. “Woops, I think I took a wrong turn somewhere.” At this point, I really wanted to go back to my house, but we tried again with Ben insisting, this time, he knew the right way. We headed back into “no man’s land”, where we were biking on small dirt paths where rivers once ran. We kept biking for about 25 minutes when we come into an area I didn’t even know existed. A forest. But not just any forest. A huge, tropical forest that looks like it came out of a scene from a Vietnam movie. We were surrounded by the most beautiful flowers, biggest trees and most colorful birds I have ever seen. Shit, where am I? Oh yea, I’m in Africa. It’s amazing how you can get swept up in life and forget about your surroundings. Forget where you are, and forget, quite literally, to stop and smell the flowers.

I’ll probably never be invited on another one of their adventures again because I couldn’t bike up the river ravine or across the moguls, and I kept making them stop to take pictures of me haha. But, hell, I had fun and I had an adventure. (As if living in Burkina Faso isn’t adventurous enough.)

8 Months in Africa

NOTE: My Pictures are Updated!! http://www2.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=2589346022/a=1579671022_1579671022/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/

I received a text from a fellow volunteer last week saying, “Congrats! You’ve survived 8 months in Burkina! Only 19 more to go…” This is when I realized, shit, I’ve been in Africa for 8 months already! I know in the grand scheme of 27 months, 8 months is not that much. But, hell, 8 is a lot.

I’ve successfully survived my first trimester teaching English and Biology, and am well on my way through the second trimester. I am confident that not only do I know what I’m doing, but I am fully capable of living and surviving in West Africa (which sounds harder than it actually is… in my opinion). My students have learned to understand me and (for the most part) know what I’m trying to say. They understand my “Franglais” (French-English combined). I’ve been able to not only sit through, but conduct business meetings… in French!

Now that I am confident in my abilities to teach/live here, I have started working on secondary projects. Teaching is my main focus here; I am a secondary education volunteer. But, I have started working on projects that I’m more interested in. Something that (hopefully) will be sustainable after my two years of service are up. I mean, that is the point of Peace Corps… help communities through sustainable projects, not to be a glorified substitute teacher for two years. Anyway, so I’m really excited about my projects. The first and biggest project is my school library. During my planning session with my counterpart (the VP at my school), he identified one of the needs of the school as a library/resource center. When I returned to site, I started looking into this project. My school is a middle school/high school combined and there are 704 students in total. In the “library”, there are 27 books, and most of the books are so old and worn down that they are practically illegible anyway. So, I decided to take this on. I am hoping to transform one of the unused rooms into a resource center/library. This will be a place where students can go to study or read. This project is still in the early planning stage, so I don’t know much beyond this. But, I really hope it will work.

In other news, my house is coming along quite well. When I arrived here, my house was a mess. There was no upkeep (or cleaning for that matter) before I arrived, so there were a lot of issues. But, slowly and surely, I have been fixing, cleaning, painting and organizing my little humble abode. I (FINALLY!) got book shelves and kitchen shelves made, which means my things are no longer in piles on the floor... woohoo! I have a nice little sitting area and cooking area. My walls, which were literally falling down, are cemented and repainted. I now have the bluest house in Burkina Faso haha. This, I feel, is my punishment from telling the painters to just paint my salon whatever color they want ha.






I also finally planted my garden. I have slowly been acquiring seeds, but I wasn’t sure how to proceed, so I just kept putting it off. Well, one day, I decided to hell with it, and I’ll just throw the seeds in the ground and see what happens. If nothing grows, oh well, I’ll try again next year. I was thinking I could just put the seeds in the ground and they would grow. This was until I tried digging up the ground and I found that the dirt was no good. It was a mix of red clay dirt and huge slabs of rocks. So, I ordered the “good dirt” and 30 bricks to make a little wall around the garden area. My neighbor brought over my bricks the next day and filled it in with the “good dirt”. This is when I realized the good dirt is dirt that is hauled out of the trash pile across from my courtyard. Yes, I just paid a man to bring in trash pile dirt… crap. Lesson learned for next time. So I spent the next 2 hours digging trash out of my garden. There were old animal bones, broken glass, plastic bags… you name it, and it was there. At this moment, I was really wishing Wal-Mart existed here, so I could buy a pair of gardening gloves. Unfortunately, it does not. But, this was a few weeks ago, and all the trash didn’t seem to hinder the garden because it is growing by leaps and bounds. It (pathetically) is the highlight of my day; coming home from school and working in the garden. I planted tomatoes, green peppers, green beans, squash, cantaloupe and cabbage. I even have a peanut plant growing, which I never planted. Probably a remnant from the trash pile.





March and April are supposedly the hottest months of the year. It’s only the middle of February and slowly, degree by degree, I can feel the heat starting. Apparently, during the hot season, it averages 115-120 everyday! Oh boy. And, I live in the coolest part of the country! I cannot imagine the volunteers who live up in the desert… with no electricity. At least I have a fan, sort of. My fan is rather pathetic; the head fell off and now points permanently towards the ground… a lot of good that’s doing me haha. Sometimes, if I’m really hot, I’ll prop the fan head on top of a chair or in a dresser drawer. I tried the good old, college stand-by of duct tape. In college, duct tape will fix anything. Well, apparently that rule doesn’t apply to Burkina Faso because it failed miserably. One good thing about the hot season is that it brings the fruit! My papayas from my papaya tree are ready to eat now, and they are delicious! My mango tree has started growing fruit, so they should be ready to eat in about a month or so. The town I live in is the mango capital of Burkina Faso, so in about a months time, I will, literally, be swimming in mangoes. Mango bread, mango wine, fresh mangoes, dried mangoes, mango salsa. I can’t wait!



My site mate just took the GRE’s, the entrance exam for most master’s programs. This got me thinking about my future, which is overwhelming. I always thought that during my 2 years in Africa and Peace Corps, I would be able to figure out what I want to do with my life. Well, easier said than done. I know I’ve only been here for a portion of my time, but I’m starting to panic. Before I know it, I’ll be back at home and then what…? Grad school? Job? Where? When? How? It’s a lot of big questions. I’m 25 and I feel like I should have a clearer picture or idea of what I want to do with my life, but honestly, I have no clue. How do you figure out a life plan?

I’m sure my next blog post will be complaining about the heat, but until then, I’m enjoying the papayas. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the pictures!

So, this just happened to me on the way to the office, and I feel like I should write about it. I was getting off of the bus and trying to get a taxi. One driver was taking me over to his taxi, and when we got there his taxi was parked next to another taxi, but then there was a third taxi parked horizontally in front of the both, blocking them in. So, I was thinking great, it's going to take forever to find the owner of the third taxi so that I can get out of here. Well, I forgot, I live in West Africa. My taxi driver, just puts his arm in the OPEN window of the third taxi, takes off the parking break, and pushes the taxi 2 feet out of the way. Simple fix hahah, and I was off!