As of today I have been here in Burkina for 6 months. That's half a year. It seems that it has gone by very quickly, though there have been weeks that have seemed to drag on and on. It's funny how time works that way. Stagé (our initial 3 months training) seemed to last forever, as it was a grueling process. The past 3 months in Dori have flown by though. I'm finally feeling very much at ease in my community.
I was at a Bar with some friends following a day long exposition put on by JICA (Japanese volunteers). Half of Dori seemed to be there. It took me a good 15 minutes to get from my table to the restroom and back because people kept stopping me to say hello. Maybe it was the beer, but something about that made me feel very good. Upon sitting back down, my friend Issouf said to me, "You know everybody here! You are bien integré". I had to laugh at this because Peace Corps really stresses integration in to our communities, though not necessarily our local bars.
Sidenote: I get stopped in the market, on the street, and at restaurants too.
The aforementioned exposition went very well. I showed up at 7am and got my booth set up. I had information on GEE as well as PC in general. Big thanks to Kait Brown for providing me with materials. Many of the attendees were children, though I was able to meet many adults who were more or less in the dark about what PC is and what we do in Burkina and around the world. It was really nice to be able to explain our work to people. What I found most valuable though, was the opportunity to exchange information with the other organizations in attendance. There are so many community organizations here that it is tough to keep them straight. Through talking to people, and exchanging brochures, I now have a catalouge of people with whom I can potentially collaborate. We wrapped things up around 5:30pm. Needless to say I was exhausted. We are in the "cold" season here, though it is still hot between 10-4. Sitting in the heat all day and talking non-stop really wore me out. Though it was really nice to go home knowing that I had put in a full days work; something I haven't done in 3 months.
I'll be leaving tommorow for Ouaga for another round of training. I'll leave tommorow morning and sessions will start on Tuesday morning and run until Friday. Following this I'll have a few days in Ouaga to relax before heading to Ghana for Christmas. I've heard wonderful things about Ghana. All the volunteers who have visited say it is a trip worth taking. We will depart the 22nd by bus. The trip lasts around 20 hours and I'm not looking forward to it, though I will be in good company. Thankfully bus services to Ghana are climatiseé (air conditioned). We have rooms in a small hostel near the beach, and I am really looking forward to spending Christmas by the ocean.
I'm very excited to see everyone from our GEE group in Ouaga tommorow. I've seen many of them since we got to our sites though there is a handful I haven't heard anything from.
Other stuff...
I went to Bobo Dioulasso (2nd largest city in Burkina) for Thanksgiving round 2. It is about 11 hours away from me and located in the south-west. It is beautiful. Bobo has tree lined streets, hills, and plenty of restaurants and night spots, without the chaos of Ouaga. The food was incredible (traditional Thanksgiving fare). We even had pecan pie. WOW. Everyone ate until they were stuffed and then we went out dancing. I paid mille francs cover to get into one of the dingiest clubs I've ever been in. The place was seriously gross, and this is saying alot. My tolerance for grossness is sky-high after 6 months. We all had a great time though, and once we got to dancing we forgot about the smell. We returned to the apartment we had rented to crash out in the early morning hours. The place was very nice. It was well furnished, with tile floors, beds, and two bathrooms. My head had just barely touched the pillow when I hear a very loud FFFSSHHHHHHHHHH!!!! coming from the room next door. Someone had gone into the bathroom to wash up before bed and a pipe burst, spraying extremely hot steam all over the place. The entire bathroom was filled with steam, and you couldn't see 2 feet in front of you. I decided to take action and got low, and searched for the shut off. I came out soaking wet, having obtained nothing except a mildly burned arm. We eventually called the house guard and he stood outside the door, which was still billowing steam. He looked at it for several minutes before giving a shrug that said, "whaddaya gonna do"? He went outside and shut off the water, and everyone calmed down and slept. I was a bit disappointed that I couldn't take a hot shower in the morning. I suppose it is only right that the pipe burst, it just wouldn't feel like Burkina without some small mishap.
Much love to the volunteers in the south west and cascades who made it all possible.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
So while I thought my Giardia had subsided, I was terribly wrong. Sometime last week I came down with a fever. I also experienced some other not so pleasant symptoms that I'll leave to the imagination.
Like most sequels, this one was far worse than the original. It was the same story as the first, only moreso. It's the classic Hollywood formula: "They liked the killer robot in the first movie, so in the sequel, we'll give them TWO killer robots!" However, this sequel made up for it's lack of originality with more explosions and profanity. After several nights of sprinting to my latrine at some horrible hour I finally gave in and had a kid run to the pharmacy and buy me some anti-biotics. It is incredible how quick my recovery was. For an entire week I was sluggish, feverish, and just plain grumpy; and now I feel like a new person.
I also received several care packages, four to be exact. One of which contained an Italian Salami and a wheel of Fontina Cheese. Does life get any better? I submit that it does not. Big thanks to Mrs. Marocco for that. Also among the care packages were bags of M&Ms, mixed nuts, and Mary Jane candy, which I am now healthy enough to enjoy!
On to Thanksgiving...
I made the 50k trip to Bani in a white windowless van that seemed to exist outside of the time-space continuum. As soon as the back door closed the driver hit the gas, gunned it to 88mph, and had me to Bani in what seemed like an instant. I swear the guy had a flux-capacitor hidden somewhere in there.
Upon arriving in Bani, I found Reneé, a former volunteer, sitting in front of a perfectly delicious looking Turkey (then uncooked), nursing a cut hand. He explained to me that his colleague, James, had bought a Turkey in a village west of Ouagadougou. They put the thing, alive, in Reneés bathroom for the night. Sensing it's imminent demise, the turkey freaked out and trashed the bathroom. Apparently the thing wasn't toilet trained. The next morning, James arrived and strapped the Turkey to his motorcycle for the 4 hour ride to Bani. By the time they arrived, they were more than happy to show it the chopping block.
Reneé, having little (zero) experience in killing turkeys, managed to botch the job. He slightly injured the already cranky turkey, and in the process sliced his thumb open. The turkey wrestled itself free from his bloody grasp and ran to the other edge of the courtyard where it paced, and stared back grimly. Reneé sat down and returned the glare. This looks like a job for...SOMEONE ELSE! Namely some Burkinabé kids. They killed, defeatherd, and gutted they turkey in no time.
We built a sort of oven out of a giant iron pot surrounded by mud brick. We lit charcoal around the base and let it heat up. A bit of salt, vinegar, water, and spices in the bottom of the pot and we were cooking. After several hours the bird was ready. It turned out incredibly well.
I contributed some mashed potatos, and we even had pumpkin pie for dessert. It wasn't easy, but then again, nothing here is. All in all a very satisfying Thanksgiving.
Like most sequels, this one was far worse than the original. It was the same story as the first, only moreso. It's the classic Hollywood formula: "They liked the killer robot in the first movie, so in the sequel, we'll give them TWO killer robots!" However, this sequel made up for it's lack of originality with more explosions and profanity. After several nights of sprinting to my latrine at some horrible hour I finally gave in and had a kid run to the pharmacy and buy me some anti-biotics. It is incredible how quick my recovery was. For an entire week I was sluggish, feverish, and just plain grumpy; and now I feel like a new person.
I also received several care packages, four to be exact. One of which contained an Italian Salami and a wheel of Fontina Cheese. Does life get any better? I submit that it does not. Big thanks to Mrs. Marocco for that. Also among the care packages were bags of M&Ms, mixed nuts, and Mary Jane candy, which I am now healthy enough to enjoy!
On to Thanksgiving...
I made the 50k trip to Bani in a white windowless van that seemed to exist outside of the time-space continuum. As soon as the back door closed the driver hit the gas, gunned it to 88mph, and had me to Bani in what seemed like an instant. I swear the guy had a flux-capacitor hidden somewhere in there.
Upon arriving in Bani, I found Reneé, a former volunteer, sitting in front of a perfectly delicious looking Turkey (then uncooked), nursing a cut hand. He explained to me that his colleague, James, had bought a Turkey in a village west of Ouagadougou. They put the thing, alive, in Reneés bathroom for the night. Sensing it's imminent demise, the turkey freaked out and trashed the bathroom. Apparently the thing wasn't toilet trained. The next morning, James arrived and strapped the Turkey to his motorcycle for the 4 hour ride to Bani. By the time they arrived, they were more than happy to show it the chopping block.
Reneé, having little (zero) experience in killing turkeys, managed to botch the job. He slightly injured the already cranky turkey, and in the process sliced his thumb open. The turkey wrestled itself free from his bloody grasp and ran to the other edge of the courtyard where it paced, and stared back grimly. Reneé sat down and returned the glare. This looks like a job for...SOMEONE ELSE! Namely some Burkinabé kids. They killed, defeatherd, and gutted they turkey in no time.
We built a sort of oven out of a giant iron pot surrounded by mud brick. We lit charcoal around the base and let it heat up. A bit of salt, vinegar, water, and spices in the bottom of the pot and we were cooking. After several hours the bird was ready. It turned out incredibly well.
I contributed some mashed potatos, and we even had pumpkin pie for dessert. It wasn't easy, but then again, nothing here is. All in all a very satisfying Thanksgiving.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Raison D'Etre.
Okay let's give this another shot!
I began observing classes this week at my primary school. I live right next door, and am awoken each morning by the noise of several hundred 6-14 year olds. My presence in the classroom has made it much easier for me to get through the day without kids screaming 'LE BLANC!! DONNEZ-MOI UN CADEAUX' (HEY WHITE GUY GIVE ME A PRESENT!). I am now associated with the teaching staff and therefore not someone to be messed with. More and more I find kids calling me Monsieur Johnson and giving me a polite 'bonjour' or 'bonsoir'. It is nice, and I feel that I am becoming more accepted in the community.
My second day observing, amid the general chaos associated with a class of 80 students, I saw a much older boy wind up and smack a younger girl. The teachers didn't seem to notice, but it was a knee jerk reaction for me to get up and stomp towards the young man. This froze most of the students; but the teacher continued with her lesson. I took the kid outside by the arm and layed in to him. His excuse: "But she was bothering me". Fair enough. I explained to him that as long as I am in the classroom he will respect everyone around him, especially girls half his size. I'm used to a bit of playful violence between students here, especially the young boys. Kids are a lot tougher here than in the U.S., and a certain amount of 'toughening up' is part of youth. The older kids smack around the younger ones. This kind of behavior is not at all absent in American schools, however it is more accepted as a part of childhood here.
However, I saw this incident as outside of that and decided to deal with it. The kid was taken off guard completely. He honestly didn't expect any consequences. I spoke with the teacher afterwards, and apologized in case I had disturbed her class at all. The school director was present during this exchange and told me that what I did was right, and that in Africa, it is the responsibility of everyone to raise a child. I was relieved at this, as I acted on instinct. There are certain things about me that simply arent going to change for the sake of "cultural integration". It's not right to hit your classmates, especially when they are too young to defend themselves.
Other news:
It has been off and on with electricity chez-moi. For four days now I've had electricity between 10pm and midnight only. The midday heat still is uncomfortable despite the supposed cold season that I am in the midst of. Thankfully there is electricity in downtown Dori, so I can still get internet access.
I'll be meeting tommorow with representatives from 10-15 NGOs here in Dori (depending on who actually shows up). The meeting is being organized by Japanese volunteers with JICA, another volunteer organization similar to Peace Corps. We are meeting to plan an exposition in early December. The theme of the expo is "Sustainable Societies". I'll be presenting some general info on PC as well as more specific information pertaining to my work with the GEE program here.
I'm just about finished with Isaac Asimov's Foundation series. I've enjoyed it immensely; though I can't believe that I've gone the past 4 years or so doing minimal (if any) reading for pleasure. Reading has become an enormous part of my life, as I have tons of time to do it. I also read Sellevision by Augusten Burroughs. The man is hilarious; and I plan on tackling Running With Scissors next.
I started a bit of a workout plan. I'm doing pushups and ab-work outs each morning in addition to riding my bike all over hell and back. Though this has been a bit difficult with the nutrition here. I don't recover nearly as quickly as I used to. I did 50 pushups one morning and was aching for 4 days following. I had to get kids to pump my water because I physically couldn't do it. Now that I mention it, I'm going to find a kid to get water every day; it makes life so much easier.
Kait, my neighbor, gave me an espresso maker. You put water in the bottom and fill this little disc with coffee and the steam rises into another container with a spout, a caféterra I think is the right word. Anyhow the caféterra and I are now involved in a very serious relationship, and are talking about getting a place together when I move back to the states. It's all moving very quickly; but it is very exciting and just feels right. Anyone who has been in love will know what I'm talking about.
It is still hot, I'm still covered in sand most of the time, and I still fantasize about food all day long; but things get easier and easier everyday.
Thanks for reading! Wend Na Kond Nidaaré!
I began observing classes this week at my primary school. I live right next door, and am awoken each morning by the noise of several hundred 6-14 year olds. My presence in the classroom has made it much easier for me to get through the day without kids screaming 'LE BLANC!! DONNEZ-MOI UN CADEAUX' (HEY WHITE GUY GIVE ME A PRESENT!). I am now associated with the teaching staff and therefore not someone to be messed with. More and more I find kids calling me Monsieur Johnson and giving me a polite 'bonjour' or 'bonsoir'. It is nice, and I feel that I am becoming more accepted in the community.
My second day observing, amid the general chaos associated with a class of 80 students, I saw a much older boy wind up and smack a younger girl. The teachers didn't seem to notice, but it was a knee jerk reaction for me to get up and stomp towards the young man. This froze most of the students; but the teacher continued with her lesson. I took the kid outside by the arm and layed in to him. His excuse: "But she was bothering me". Fair enough. I explained to him that as long as I am in the classroom he will respect everyone around him, especially girls half his size. I'm used to a bit of playful violence between students here, especially the young boys. Kids are a lot tougher here than in the U.S., and a certain amount of 'toughening up' is part of youth. The older kids smack around the younger ones. This kind of behavior is not at all absent in American schools, however it is more accepted as a part of childhood here.
However, I saw this incident as outside of that and decided to deal with it. The kid was taken off guard completely. He honestly didn't expect any consequences. I spoke with the teacher afterwards, and apologized in case I had disturbed her class at all. The school director was present during this exchange and told me that what I did was right, and that in Africa, it is the responsibility of everyone to raise a child. I was relieved at this, as I acted on instinct. There are certain things about me that simply arent going to change for the sake of "cultural integration". It's not right to hit your classmates, especially when they are too young to defend themselves.
Other news:
It has been off and on with electricity chez-moi. For four days now I've had electricity between 10pm and midnight only. The midday heat still is uncomfortable despite the supposed cold season that I am in the midst of. Thankfully there is electricity in downtown Dori, so I can still get internet access.
I'll be meeting tommorow with representatives from 10-15 NGOs here in Dori (depending on who actually shows up). The meeting is being organized by Japanese volunteers with JICA, another volunteer organization similar to Peace Corps. We are meeting to plan an exposition in early December. The theme of the expo is "Sustainable Societies". I'll be presenting some general info on PC as well as more specific information pertaining to my work with the GEE program here.
I'm just about finished with Isaac Asimov's Foundation series. I've enjoyed it immensely; though I can't believe that I've gone the past 4 years or so doing minimal (if any) reading for pleasure. Reading has become an enormous part of my life, as I have tons of time to do it. I also read Sellevision by Augusten Burroughs. The man is hilarious; and I plan on tackling Running With Scissors next.
I started a bit of a workout plan. I'm doing pushups and ab-work outs each morning in addition to riding my bike all over hell and back. Though this has been a bit difficult with the nutrition here. I don't recover nearly as quickly as I used to. I did 50 pushups one morning and was aching for 4 days following. I had to get kids to pump my water because I physically couldn't do it. Now that I mention it, I'm going to find a kid to get water every day; it makes life so much easier.
Kait, my neighbor, gave me an espresso maker. You put water in the bottom and fill this little disc with coffee and the steam rises into another container with a spout, a caféterra I think is the right word. Anyhow the caféterra and I are now involved in a very serious relationship, and are talking about getting a place together when I move back to the states. It's all moving very quickly; but it is very exciting and just feels right. Anyone who has been in love will know what I'm talking about.
It is still hot, I'm still covered in sand most of the time, and I still fantasize about food all day long; but things get easier and easier everyday.
Thanks for reading! Wend Na Kond Nidaaré!
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
SAVE OFTEN
I just wrote out a loooooong post and then LOST IT ALL! Not happy. Heres the abstract.
PCV Evan Johnson excited with windfall of activity lately. Between observing classes, disciplining students, putting on math help room, and preparing for expo planning commitee the days are rather packed. Spoke with woman who has 10 sisters and 1 brother. Her brother's name is Barka Wend Ye, Thank you God in Mooré. I don't have the patience to write it all out again. You'll just have to wait until next time!
PCV Evan Johnson excited with windfall of activity lately. Between observing classes, disciplining students, putting on math help room, and preparing for expo planning commitee the days are rather packed. Spoke with woman who has 10 sisters and 1 brother. Her brother's name is Barka Wend Ye, Thank you God in Mooré. I don't have the patience to write it all out again. You'll just have to wait until next time!
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
The Desert Just Got Funkier
My desert home is now also home to The J.Bs, George Clinton, Johnny "Guitar" Watson, and many many others thanks to some nifty Ipod speakers. I think that I am currently in the running for "most comfortable digs" among PCVs thanks to this addition. Though there are some (not naming names) with wi-fi, running water, and ceiling fans.
I returned from Ouaga last night. I was lucky enough to be accompanied by three other volunteers who are currently on their way further north to visit the dunes and do some camping. They asked me to go along but after being away I was glad to be home. Travel here takes a lot out of you, even if you are going with a major bus line. It is a little over four hours in between Ouaga and Dori and then another hour by bush taxi to get to Gorom-Gorom. Upon boarding a bus I find myself trying to figure out where the sun is going to be so I can choose which side to sit on. Then there is the debate of window (cool wind) or aisle (room for legs). Of course all of this consideration only offers marginal comfort, and doesn't matter if the bus fills up. In which case you are going to be crammed wherever there is room, hopefully not next to a baby.
Before Ouaga I spend a night in Bani. Bani is 55k south of Dori and known for it's mosques. While walking toward the mosques we came across several "guides" sitting in front of a tourists bureau. Guide is a four letter word for volunteers generally. We ignored their calls and walked around some hills until we found a trail leading up to the mosques. The view was really cool, but it was sad to see many of these beautiful buildings in disrepair. The minaret of the Grande Mosqueé fell down during the past rainy season, so the building is a lot less impressive now.
Ouaga was a great time as usual. I ate a lot of cheeseburgers, and hung out with some volunteers that are leaving in a few weeks. I stayed in one night while I was there and watched Casablanca and ate some care-package chocolate chip cookies (thanks Mom!).
It is certainly nice to be back though, and I am really looking forward to getting into all of the new books I've acquired. Also, a special thanks to Karen and Claudio for their care package; I'll be making some falafel and tzatziki with the dill you sent me tonight!
I returned from Ouaga last night. I was lucky enough to be accompanied by three other volunteers who are currently on their way further north to visit the dunes and do some camping. They asked me to go along but after being away I was glad to be home. Travel here takes a lot out of you, even if you are going with a major bus line. It is a little over four hours in between Ouaga and Dori and then another hour by bush taxi to get to Gorom-Gorom. Upon boarding a bus I find myself trying to figure out where the sun is going to be so I can choose which side to sit on. Then there is the debate of window (cool wind) or aisle (room for legs). Of course all of this consideration only offers marginal comfort, and doesn't matter if the bus fills up. In which case you are going to be crammed wherever there is room, hopefully not next to a baby.
Before Ouaga I spend a night in Bani. Bani is 55k south of Dori and known for it's mosques. While walking toward the mosques we came across several "guides" sitting in front of a tourists bureau. Guide is a four letter word for volunteers generally. We ignored their calls and walked around some hills until we found a trail leading up to the mosques. The view was really cool, but it was sad to see many of these beautiful buildings in disrepair. The minaret of the Grande Mosqueé fell down during the past rainy season, so the building is a lot less impressive now.
Ouaga was a great time as usual. I ate a lot of cheeseburgers, and hung out with some volunteers that are leaving in a few weeks. I stayed in one night while I was there and watched Casablanca and ate some care-package chocolate chip cookies (thanks Mom!).
It is certainly nice to be back though, and I am really looking forward to getting into all of the new books I've acquired. Also, a special thanks to Karen and Claudio for their care package; I'll be making some falafel and tzatziki with the dill you sent me tonight!
Monday, October 26, 2009
Salaam Alaikum
And jam nyaali to all...
Alright I know what you are going to say: "Food again? That's all you talk about is food!"
So maybe it's true. I do talk about food often. It is on my mind a lot. However, I'm taking a different angle this time. Instead of fantasizing about ossobucca and risotto I'm going to get a little hippy dippy.
Each day I walk or bike to my marché. I buy vegetables, bread, and sometimes meat to prepare food for the day. The people, or the families of the people that grew, made, or raised and slaughtered the food are generally the ones that sell it. For these people, the connection between food and the earth is undeniable. Furthermore, things like grazing, rainfall, and wind can have an adverse effect on a family's ability to support itself. These are issues that the world faces on a day to day; and that we as Americans have become somewhat disconnected from. I can hear the groans from some people. "Oh man Evan goes off to Africa and all of a sudden he's some big hippy thats going to lay on guilt when I go to McDonalds". Not so, I would give a lot for a double cheeseburger at this point. I'm not asking anyone to change their day to day habits; simply pointing out a very obvious difference between America and developing nations.
In the U.S. we spend lots and lots of money shipping food across the country. We have all types of produce year-round. It is an extreme luxury that has become the norm. We also consume a ludicrious amount of meat. Not only is beef expensive to raise, but our eating habits bog down our health system with astounding numbers of people with heart disease. I suppose what I'm saying is that dinner isn't just dinner. There are thousands of factors at work that bring the various components of your meals to you, and global effects associated with eating trends. We remain mostly oblivious to this. Agriculture has had the single largest effect on our environment in this history of man, this is a fact.
I'm going to cut myself short and say that I've been doing a bit of research on urban farming lately. I like the idea a lot. It offers people the ability to reconnect with the food that they eat. These are people living in an urban setting that have most likely never set foot on a farm. It also builds pride in a community, and has the potential for generating money, and improving community health. Detroit seems like a prime candidate for programs like this. It occupies a huge footprint, and the population is dwindling, resulting in large vacant spaces. Much of this land is inexpensive, and there is an ample community minded student population in and outside the city. I don't believe that I need to mention the advantages of eating local food.
Soo in conclusion. Instead of going to the big supermarket this weekend, make a trip to a farmers market, and buy what is in season. Prepare what you can with what is available. Talk to the people that grow your food. It's really not that hard. Plant an herb garden, you can even do it inside. It will serve as a reminder that your meals are more than just meals, and that you are undeniably connected to the ground you walk on.
Thats all for now thanks for reading, and shouts to Mike Fresh and growerr.com - I'm looking forward to it man.
Alright I know what you are going to say: "Food again? That's all you talk about is food!"
So maybe it's true. I do talk about food often. It is on my mind a lot. However, I'm taking a different angle this time. Instead of fantasizing about ossobucca and risotto I'm going to get a little hippy dippy.
Each day I walk or bike to my marché. I buy vegetables, bread, and sometimes meat to prepare food for the day. The people, or the families of the people that grew, made, or raised and slaughtered the food are generally the ones that sell it. For these people, the connection between food and the earth is undeniable. Furthermore, things like grazing, rainfall, and wind can have an adverse effect on a family's ability to support itself. These are issues that the world faces on a day to day; and that we as Americans have become somewhat disconnected from. I can hear the groans from some people. "Oh man Evan goes off to Africa and all of a sudden he's some big hippy thats going to lay on guilt when I go to McDonalds". Not so, I would give a lot for a double cheeseburger at this point. I'm not asking anyone to change their day to day habits; simply pointing out a very obvious difference between America and developing nations.
In the U.S. we spend lots and lots of money shipping food across the country. We have all types of produce year-round. It is an extreme luxury that has become the norm. We also consume a ludicrious amount of meat. Not only is beef expensive to raise, but our eating habits bog down our health system with astounding numbers of people with heart disease. I suppose what I'm saying is that dinner isn't just dinner. There are thousands of factors at work that bring the various components of your meals to you, and global effects associated with eating trends. We remain mostly oblivious to this. Agriculture has had the single largest effect on our environment in this history of man, this is a fact.
I'm going to cut myself short and say that I've been doing a bit of research on urban farming lately. I like the idea a lot. It offers people the ability to reconnect with the food that they eat. These are people living in an urban setting that have most likely never set foot on a farm. It also builds pride in a community, and has the potential for generating money, and improving community health. Detroit seems like a prime candidate for programs like this. It occupies a huge footprint, and the population is dwindling, resulting in large vacant spaces. Much of this land is inexpensive, and there is an ample community minded student population in and outside the city. I don't believe that I need to mention the advantages of eating local food.
Soo in conclusion. Instead of going to the big supermarket this weekend, make a trip to a farmers market, and buy what is in season. Prepare what you can with what is available. Talk to the people that grow your food. It's really not that hard. Plant an herb garden, you can even do it inside. It will serve as a reminder that your meals are more than just meals, and that you are undeniably connected to the ground you walk on.
Thats all for now thanks for reading, and shouts to Mike Fresh and growerr.com - I'm looking forward to it man.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Too Much Information
SOO heres a bit of an update whether you like it or not!
I recently experienced a particularly unpleasant rumbling of the tum-tum. I ignored it, drank some oral rehydration salts (yum!), and ate a banana. Several days later, the rumbling persisted and was accompanied by burps tasting of rotten eggs (yummier!). I won't go into further detail. I'll just say I've been giving my quads a work out lately.
I looked up these symptoms and all signs point to (drumroll): Giardia!!! I've been treating it and it seems to be subsiding sans anti-biotics; though if it comes back our medical officers will be getting a call. The biggest threat from it is dehydration, and I've been making sure to drink plenty of (filtered) water.
It's just one of those things you know you'll end up facing at one point or another when you sign up for Peace Corps. The reality is, I've had spectacular health thus far. I know volunteers who have gone through several bouts of Giardia (or the rumblin' runs as I affectionately call them), had amoebas, and Malaria. So I'm pretty grateful.
In other news...
I found a local night spot that plays American music. I was walking along when I heard the unmistakeable voice of Phil Collins. I'm not a Collins fan, never have been. I was raised better than that. But the music piqued my interest. I walked into the bar and started up a conversation with the DJ. I asked him what other American tunes he had and he pulled out a stack of CDs. Among them: STEVIE WONDER! SAM COOKE! BOB DYLAN! AND.......the scorpions. Well 3 out of 4 ain't bad. Don't get me wrong, I thought that The Scorpions did a great job with the Freejack soundtrack, but they aren't my first choice when I want to relax with a cold one.
Needless to say I'm pretty happy about this find. Usually if I want to go out I'm berated by extremely loud African dance music. People here tend to crank the volume on whatever it is they are listening to. You can't hear yourself think in most bars, which isn't all that different from the states. It's even harder for me because of the language barrier. I find shouting imperfect French over blaring dance music to be anything but relaxing.
I've been at site for a little over a month straight, and I've got the itch to head to Ouaga and get myself a cheeseburger. I just received news that there will be a Halloween party in Bobo. Bobo is on the clean opposite side of the country, and I'm not up for 10-12 hours of transport for a Halloween party. Maybe I'll just head to Ouaga for the 30th and make a weekend of it. I plan on visiting Bobo at some point in time. But I would only do it if I had a week to spend there. It's just not worth it to ride for hours and hours on a hot, dusty, bus for 2 days in another city.
Thats all for now!
Oh PS I can Skype now! If you email me at emjdj1@gmail.com we can set up a time for it. I'm 4 hours ahead. My skype profile is emjdj1 also, or you can just search Evan Johnson in Dori, Burkina Faso. I'm fairly sure I'm the only Evan Johnson in this city.
I recently experienced a particularly unpleasant rumbling of the tum-tum. I ignored it, drank some oral rehydration salts (yum!), and ate a banana. Several days later, the rumbling persisted and was accompanied by burps tasting of rotten eggs (yummier!). I won't go into further detail. I'll just say I've been giving my quads a work out lately.
I looked up these symptoms and all signs point to (drumroll): Giardia!!! I've been treating it and it seems to be subsiding sans anti-biotics; though if it comes back our medical officers will be getting a call. The biggest threat from it is dehydration, and I've been making sure to drink plenty of (filtered) water.
It's just one of those things you know you'll end up facing at one point or another when you sign up for Peace Corps. The reality is, I've had spectacular health thus far. I know volunteers who have gone through several bouts of Giardia (or the rumblin' runs as I affectionately call them), had amoebas, and Malaria. So I'm pretty grateful.
In other news...
I found a local night spot that plays American music. I was walking along when I heard the unmistakeable voice of Phil Collins. I'm not a Collins fan, never have been. I was raised better than that. But the music piqued my interest. I walked into the bar and started up a conversation with the DJ. I asked him what other American tunes he had and he pulled out a stack of CDs. Among them: STEVIE WONDER! SAM COOKE! BOB DYLAN! AND.......the scorpions. Well 3 out of 4 ain't bad. Don't get me wrong, I thought that The Scorpions did a great job with the Freejack soundtrack, but they aren't my first choice when I want to relax with a cold one.
Needless to say I'm pretty happy about this find. Usually if I want to go out I'm berated by extremely loud African dance music. People here tend to crank the volume on whatever it is they are listening to. You can't hear yourself think in most bars, which isn't all that different from the states. It's even harder for me because of the language barrier. I find shouting imperfect French over blaring dance music to be anything but relaxing.
I've been at site for a little over a month straight, and I've got the itch to head to Ouaga and get myself a cheeseburger. I just received news that there will be a Halloween party in Bobo. Bobo is on the clean opposite side of the country, and I'm not up for 10-12 hours of transport for a Halloween party. Maybe I'll just head to Ouaga for the 30th and make a weekend of it. I plan on visiting Bobo at some point in time. But I would only do it if I had a week to spend there. It's just not worth it to ride for hours and hours on a hot, dusty, bus for 2 days in another city.
Thats all for now!
Oh PS I can Skype now! If you email me at emjdj1@gmail.com we can set up a time for it. I'm 4 hours ahead. My skype profile is emjdj1 also, or you can just search Evan Johnson in Dori, Burkina Faso. I'm fairly sure I'm the only Evan Johnson in this city.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Acclimatisation
So we've entered the "mini-hot season". While folks in Michigan are strolling through apple orchards, eating donuts, watching the leaves change, and pulling out their favorite sweaters; us Saheliens are sweating in 110° heat. This season occurs after the rains have stopped but before the cool months of November and December. My friend Mohammad tells me "December is COLD!", as he hugs himself and pretends to shiver. I can't wait.
Despite the sometimes brutal heat, I feel that I have adjusted pretty well to the country itself. The water, food, and climate pose no real problem for me. Cultural adjustment, has been a bit more elusive. One example, sleep is NOT sacred here. In the U.S. if someone is napping generally those around him/her will make an effort to keep somewhat quiet. They certainly wouldn't call the persons name until they woke up simply to say hello and ask how things are going. That would just be rude.
Last week I was dozing in front of my fan, trying to beat the midday heat. I was very tired from a lot of housework, and hadn't slept well the night before due to some mild G.I issues. Enter my 12 year old neighbor boy. He comes right up to my screen door, sees that I am asleep, and calls my name. When I don't wake up (because I am ignoring the child) he just calls me louder. I finally turn to him and ask "Oui?".
"ça va bien?" he responds.
"Please leave me alone right now I'm relaxing, I am very tired", I say to him (in French of course). This works for about 20 minutes but finally he returns and asks to borrow my bike, to which I respond, "definitley no". He leaves again but sure enough returns, succeeding in waking me up 3 times in the course of an hour. Not to mention the fact that he does it everyday at 6AM. Every day I say to leave me alone, every next day he returns. I don't get it.
The problem is my fault as well. Kids here don't pick up verbal and non-verbal clues that way I wan't them to. They also don't think critically, which has to do with the system of education. If I don't want this boy at my front door at 6AM everyday. I'll have to say "Don't come here in the mornings until you see that I am awake and moving around, if I am asleep then do not bother me". Simply telling him to leave every morning won't get the point across. Another cultural difference.
Something else I've had to get used to is the complete lack of automated appliances and running water. If I want to cook or bake something, its going to be from scratch. There aren't many shortcuts. If the floor is dirty, and often is due to the wind and sand; I have to pull everything out of the house and sweep. What I wouldn't give for a shop vac. When its time to do dishes, I haul water from a pump and fill buckets to wash, rinse, and sterilize. The most difficult of all these things is laundry. Doing laundry by hand is time-consuming, difficult work. I suggest everyone try it at least once.
There is a generalized chart that tracks the contentedness of volunteers. It looks like a piece of spaghetti someone threw against the fridge. There is a markedly low point between 3-6 months in country. I'm at 4 right now. It is after training, and now we have to re-adjust to a new culture and place yet again; only this time we do it completely on our own. This isn't to say I'm not content. Though readjustment is certainly no easy task. Then again, I wouldn't have signed up for the job if I thought it were an easy one. Cheers.
P.S Go right through for MSU! Watch the points keep growing! Spartan teams are bound to win they're fighting with a vim! rah! rah! rah! See their team is WEEEEAAAK, we're going to win this game! Fight! Fight! Rah team fight! Victory for MSU!
MSU 26 UM 20. Boom.
Despite the sometimes brutal heat, I feel that I have adjusted pretty well to the country itself. The water, food, and climate pose no real problem for me. Cultural adjustment, has been a bit more elusive. One example, sleep is NOT sacred here. In the U.S. if someone is napping generally those around him/her will make an effort to keep somewhat quiet. They certainly wouldn't call the persons name until they woke up simply to say hello and ask how things are going. That would just be rude.
Last week I was dozing in front of my fan, trying to beat the midday heat. I was very tired from a lot of housework, and hadn't slept well the night before due to some mild G.I issues. Enter my 12 year old neighbor boy. He comes right up to my screen door, sees that I am asleep, and calls my name. When I don't wake up (because I am ignoring the child) he just calls me louder. I finally turn to him and ask "Oui?".
"ça va bien?" he responds.
"Please leave me alone right now I'm relaxing, I am very tired", I say to him (in French of course). This works for about 20 minutes but finally he returns and asks to borrow my bike, to which I respond, "definitley no". He leaves again but sure enough returns, succeeding in waking me up 3 times in the course of an hour. Not to mention the fact that he does it everyday at 6AM. Every day I say to leave me alone, every next day he returns. I don't get it.
The problem is my fault as well. Kids here don't pick up verbal and non-verbal clues that way I wan't them to. They also don't think critically, which has to do with the system of education. If I don't want this boy at my front door at 6AM everyday. I'll have to say "Don't come here in the mornings until you see that I am awake and moving around, if I am asleep then do not bother me". Simply telling him to leave every morning won't get the point across. Another cultural difference.
Something else I've had to get used to is the complete lack of automated appliances and running water. If I want to cook or bake something, its going to be from scratch. There aren't many shortcuts. If the floor is dirty, and often is due to the wind and sand; I have to pull everything out of the house and sweep. What I wouldn't give for a shop vac. When its time to do dishes, I haul water from a pump and fill buckets to wash, rinse, and sterilize. The most difficult of all these things is laundry. Doing laundry by hand is time-consuming, difficult work. I suggest everyone try it at least once.
There is a generalized chart that tracks the contentedness of volunteers. It looks like a piece of spaghetti someone threw against the fridge. There is a markedly low point between 3-6 months in country. I'm at 4 right now. It is after training, and now we have to re-adjust to a new culture and place yet again; only this time we do it completely on our own. This isn't to say I'm not content. Though readjustment is certainly no easy task. Then again, I wouldn't have signed up for the job if I thought it were an easy one. Cheers.
P.S Go right through for MSU! Watch the points keep growing! Spartan teams are bound to win they're fighting with a vim! rah! rah! rah! See their team is WEEEEAAAK, we're going to win this game! Fight! Fight! Rah team fight! Victory for MSU!
MSU 26 UM 20. Boom.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Prophylaxis may result in hypnogogic vertigo.
It is required that all volunteers take anti-malarial medication. There are two types. One; Doxycycline is taken daily and can great slight stomach discomfort. The one I take, Mephaquin, is taken weekly, and has been known to induce lucid dreams bordering on waking hallucinations. But hey, at least I won't be getting Malaria any time soon.
Needless to say I've experienced these side effects somewhat, though they haven't been unpleasant or infringed on a good nights sleep.
I'm usually not one to talk or write about my dreams. I usually groan or roll my eyes when someone starts a story with 'So I had this dream last night...'. Its as if they are saying 'here is a complete fabrication of my unconscious, which may or may not expose embarassing foibles in my personality'. But enough with the disclaimers. So I had this dream last night; I was in Burger King ready to indulge in a Whopper, when the portly woman at the counter demanded that I pay. I reached into my pocket, and produced a wad of CFA (burkinabe currency). She looked at me like I was crazy for trying to pay with west african currency in this quinessentially American establishment. Needless to say I awoke frustrated and craving a big juicy burger.
Which leads me to my next thought. My goal for the next couple of months is to put on some weight. I've received emails from worried parties in the U.S., pointing out that I am looking very very skinny lately. I would like to acknowledge the fact that I worked at a "Greek" restaurant before I came here, and spent most of my time running around eating Gyros slathered in Tzatziki, with Saganaki, and Spinach Pie on the side. Where do these items fall on the food pyramid? For any health-conscious individual they should be floating around the top. But for me, for 9 months at least, they formed the solid, immovable base. Now that I eat rice all the time, and my daily activities are walking, sweating, biking, and sweating; its only natural that I've dropped a few pounds.
I'll post the recipies that I come up with here on the blog, so that you can join me on this culinary odessy. To start!! A favorite of mine taken from the "Where There Is No Microwave" volunteer cookbook. Foccacia Bread! YUM!
1 1/4 cup water
2 1/2 cups white flour
2tsp dry yeast
1tsp sugar (for proofing yeast)
1tsp salt
Olive oil for glaze, and greasing rising surface.
PROOF your yeast! MIX the yeast and sugar with 1/4 cup of warm (not hot) water. Let sit for about 10-15 minutes, when small bubbles begin to appear on the surface. Just a few bubbles is okay.
Put your flour and salt into a large mixing bowl and create a basin of sorts to pour the water into. Use your hands to mix it all together (its messy). Sift in flour as needed until the dough is a workable ball, and is no longer sticky. Flip this dough ball onto an oiled surface, and cover with a damp towel, put it in a warm place (in front of a window) and let rise for 1 hour, or until doubled in bulk.
Now the fun part. Sift flour onto a surface and coat your hands as well. flip the dough onto this floured surface and beat it sensless. The dough owes you money, and I heard it say your sister is easy. Fold the dough into itself several times and punch it with your closed fist four about 10 minutes. Cover again and let rise for 30-45 minutes. Score decoratively and then brush with Olive Oil (or sprinkle with seasonings, I like Zahtar). Put it in the oven at 375° for 40 minutes. (WARNING, this bake time is for using an improvised dutch oven, those with Viking convection ovens adjust time accordingly). Use spray bottle with cold water and spray the loaf every 5 minutes for the first 15 minutes of baking for a crispy crust. Remove from oven, let cool, and enjoy.
Needless to say I've experienced these side effects somewhat, though they haven't been unpleasant or infringed on a good nights sleep.
I'm usually not one to talk or write about my dreams. I usually groan or roll my eyes when someone starts a story with 'So I had this dream last night...'. Its as if they are saying 'here is a complete fabrication of my unconscious, which may or may not expose embarassing foibles in my personality'. But enough with the disclaimers. So I had this dream last night; I was in Burger King ready to indulge in a Whopper, when the portly woman at the counter demanded that I pay. I reached into my pocket, and produced a wad of CFA (burkinabe currency). She looked at me like I was crazy for trying to pay with west african currency in this quinessentially American establishment. Needless to say I awoke frustrated and craving a big juicy burger.
Which leads me to my next thought. My goal for the next couple of months is to put on some weight. I've received emails from worried parties in the U.S., pointing out that I am looking very very skinny lately. I would like to acknowledge the fact that I worked at a "Greek" restaurant before I came here, and spent most of my time running around eating Gyros slathered in Tzatziki, with Saganaki, and Spinach Pie on the side. Where do these items fall on the food pyramid? For any health-conscious individual they should be floating around the top. But for me, for 9 months at least, they formed the solid, immovable base. Now that I eat rice all the time, and my daily activities are walking, sweating, biking, and sweating; its only natural that I've dropped a few pounds.
I'll post the recipies that I come up with here on the blog, so that you can join me on this culinary odessy. To start!! A favorite of mine taken from the "Where There Is No Microwave" volunteer cookbook. Foccacia Bread! YUM!
1 1/4 cup water
2 1/2 cups white flour
2tsp dry yeast
1tsp sugar (for proofing yeast)
1tsp salt
Olive oil for glaze, and greasing rising surface.
PROOF your yeast! MIX the yeast and sugar with 1/4 cup of warm (not hot) water. Let sit for about 10-15 minutes, when small bubbles begin to appear on the surface. Just a few bubbles is okay.
Put your flour and salt into a large mixing bowl and create a basin of sorts to pour the water into. Use your hands to mix it all together (its messy). Sift in flour as needed until the dough is a workable ball, and is no longer sticky. Flip this dough ball onto an oiled surface, and cover with a damp towel, put it in a warm place (in front of a window) and let rise for 1 hour, or until doubled in bulk.
Now the fun part. Sift flour onto a surface and coat your hands as well. flip the dough onto this floured surface and beat it sensless. The dough owes you money, and I heard it say your sister is easy. Fold the dough into itself several times and punch it with your closed fist four about 10 minutes. Cover again and let rise for 30-45 minutes. Score decoratively and then brush with Olive Oil (or sprinkle with seasonings, I like Zahtar). Put it in the oven at 375° for 40 minutes. (WARNING, this bake time is for using an improvised dutch oven, those with Viking convection ovens adjust time accordingly). Use spray bottle with cold water and spray the loaf every 5 minutes for the first 15 minutes of baking for a crispy crust. Remove from oven, let cool, and enjoy.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Why I hate the bus station.
"KING BROTHER! AFRICA IS VERY NICE! ME AND YOU WE ARE LIKE THE SAME, WE ARE BROTHERS. YES! KING BROTHER! IT IS NICE LIKE THAT IN AFRICA! BARACK OBAMA!" And so on, he shouted at me as I approached the ticket window at the bus station. The man in the window seemed nonplussed when I stated my inquiry. It was a rather simple question.
"How often does the bus run between Dori and Kaya, at what times, and how much does it cost"? However my question was overpowered by the tall man yelling at me in broken, rehearsed, english. I had gotten the same verbal assault the first time I arrived in Dori. That time he was wearing tight fitting jeans, beige boots, and a 50 Cent tshirt. Now he was wearing traditional african garb, complete with a white prayer cap. He stood directly next to me as I tried to communicate with the man in the window. I began to wonder, "when is this idiot going to ask for money like a normal bus-station leech". I finally got my information and continued to ignore the screaming moron to my left. It is common courtesy in west africa to say hello to people when they greet you. But I figure social decorum doesn't matter when I'm not concerned with starting or maintaining even the most casual of relationships.
I walked across the street and sat down at my usual spot at a roadside rice stand. Oh no, here he comes, hes following me, hooray.
"KING BROTHER, YOU DON'T EVEN SAY HELLO? WE ARE LIKE BROTHERS OUR SKIN COLOR THAT DOES NOT MATTER". The man who runs the restaurant and I exchanged a knowing look as he served me my plate of rice. I ate quietly while the man from the bus station stood next to me and attempted conversation, to which I didn't respond.
Finally, realizing that he was getting nowhere, he asked me.
"My friend I am hungry give me 300cfa". I felt some sense of relief at this as I now had a good excuse to tell him to bother someone else, that I wasn't a tourist, and that I don't give money away to people. I exchanged looks with the restaurant owner (a friend of mine) again, and he asked the man to leave politely in Mooré.
The bus station is rife with hangers on like this. There are the occasional tourists that make it out to Dori and these "guides" offer to take them on camel rides, to see the dunes, etc. There is even a man on the bus who telephones ahead if there is a "nasarra" bound for Dori. However tourism isnt an enormous industry in Dori so many of these "guides" find it hard to get work, and end up guilting people in to giving them money. Im a target because I'm white, and it is assumed that I have money. The result is that even when I pass by the station, or go to make a simple inquiriy, I'm harassed by these men. I've gotten pretty good at deflecting them though. If I feel particularly tired and have to go by the station I'll ask one of my Burkinabé friends to walk with me, which they are usually more than happy to do.
Well there ya go thats why I hate the bus station.
"How often does the bus run between Dori and Kaya, at what times, and how much does it cost"? However my question was overpowered by the tall man yelling at me in broken, rehearsed, english. I had gotten the same verbal assault the first time I arrived in Dori. That time he was wearing tight fitting jeans, beige boots, and a 50 Cent tshirt. Now he was wearing traditional african garb, complete with a white prayer cap. He stood directly next to me as I tried to communicate with the man in the window. I began to wonder, "when is this idiot going to ask for money like a normal bus-station leech". I finally got my information and continued to ignore the screaming moron to my left. It is common courtesy in west africa to say hello to people when they greet you. But I figure social decorum doesn't matter when I'm not concerned with starting or maintaining even the most casual of relationships.
I walked across the street and sat down at my usual spot at a roadside rice stand. Oh no, here he comes, hes following me, hooray.
"KING BROTHER, YOU DON'T EVEN SAY HELLO? WE ARE LIKE BROTHERS OUR SKIN COLOR THAT DOES NOT MATTER". The man who runs the restaurant and I exchanged a knowing look as he served me my plate of rice. I ate quietly while the man from the bus station stood next to me and attempted conversation, to which I didn't respond.
Finally, realizing that he was getting nowhere, he asked me.
"My friend I am hungry give me 300cfa". I felt some sense of relief at this as I now had a good excuse to tell him to bother someone else, that I wasn't a tourist, and that I don't give money away to people. I exchanged looks with the restaurant owner (a friend of mine) again, and he asked the man to leave politely in Mooré.
The bus station is rife with hangers on like this. There are the occasional tourists that make it out to Dori and these "guides" offer to take them on camel rides, to see the dunes, etc. There is even a man on the bus who telephones ahead if there is a "nasarra" bound for Dori. However tourism isnt an enormous industry in Dori so many of these "guides" find it hard to get work, and end up guilting people in to giving them money. Im a target because I'm white, and it is assumed that I have money. The result is that even when I pass by the station, or go to make a simple inquiriy, I'm harassed by these men. I've gotten pretty good at deflecting them though. If I feel particularly tired and have to go by the station I'll ask one of my Burkinabé friends to walk with me, which they are usually more than happy to do.
Well there ya go thats why I hate the bus station.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Back in Dori
I just returned from Ouaga on a rather unpleasant bus ride. I wasn't all that well educated on the bus times from Ouaga to Dori, So I showed up at the station before noon. I found out that the bus wouldn't leave until 3 o'clock. I'm not a huge fan of bus stations; I don't know anyone who is. Save Brandon Bennage; who spends his time there with a guitar for the purpose of entertaining the homeless. He's got a great heart that Bennage, I don't know anyone else who would spend an entire night in a greyhound station strictly for the entertainment of others, out of the goodness of his pure and altruistic heart.
I was fairly tired, and the heat wasn't helping, so I tried resting against a wall to read. I was asleep in about 30 seconds. 45 minutes had passed when I awoke, and some kid was trying to sell me a bag full of eggs. This all seemed normal. I realize that I'm becoming comfortably desensitized to the absurd. This is probably to my benefit. I don't think that this kind of work is for those who have strong convictions about that way things ought to be. If you spend all your time here lucidly aware of the cultural differences, and the day to day difficulties; you run the risk of losing it. It's necessary to procede with your work, knowing that it will matter in the long run, but at the same time accept the world around you as is. You have to go with the flow of things. Going against the grain is a surefire way to wear yourself out. Im not advocating apathy by any means; but this kind of work I believe requires collaboration and cultural understanding. Coming in to Burkina as an American is difficult, and it is necessary to make slight mental changes.
Ouaga was very refreshing; I attended a closing of service party for the volunteers who arrived here 2 years ago. There was lots of food and drink, and even a dance number by the departing volunteers. Ouaga is the closest thing to America that one can find in Burkina Faso. There are many restaurants, bars, and night clubs that cater to tourists, and ex-pats. I managed to have a breakfast of bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, and something resembling coffee at the International School of Ouagadougou. The only thing missing was some aging waitress who calls me 'hon' and refills my coffee faster than I can drink it. I miss her a whole lot. My coffee arrived warm halfway through my meal, and when I asked for a refill I was charged for another cup and it took 15 minutes. Despite the coffee situation, the meal was one of the best Ive had in months and I left ISO with a smile on my face.
Despite its nicities, there is a madness to Ouaga, an energy and bustle that can become very overwhelming. The throngs of motos spewing fumes, the animal smell, and calls of vendors combined with the fact that Americans stick out like a sore thumb holding a $100 bill. Its like no city I've ever experienced. It was a good couple of days, with plenty of cold drinks and good food. But I am very happy to be back in familiar Dori, with my books, and my familar market. My neighbors were very glad to see me returned, and I ate and drank tea with them. When I returned to my house last night I found that I have electricity; which filled me with unexpressable joy. I immediately found the fan I had stored away, stripped down, and sat in front of it reading in my underwear with a smile on my face.
The Japanese volunteers are going to return to Dori in several days and we are going to start work on the exposition for Dori NGOs. I am really looking forward to getting some real work done.
I was fairly tired, and the heat wasn't helping, so I tried resting against a wall to read. I was asleep in about 30 seconds. 45 minutes had passed when I awoke, and some kid was trying to sell me a bag full of eggs. This all seemed normal. I realize that I'm becoming comfortably desensitized to the absurd. This is probably to my benefit. I don't think that this kind of work is for those who have strong convictions about that way things ought to be. If you spend all your time here lucidly aware of the cultural differences, and the day to day difficulties; you run the risk of losing it. It's necessary to procede with your work, knowing that it will matter in the long run, but at the same time accept the world around you as is. You have to go with the flow of things. Going against the grain is a surefire way to wear yourself out. Im not advocating apathy by any means; but this kind of work I believe requires collaboration and cultural understanding. Coming in to Burkina as an American is difficult, and it is necessary to make slight mental changes.
Ouaga was very refreshing; I attended a closing of service party for the volunteers who arrived here 2 years ago. There was lots of food and drink, and even a dance number by the departing volunteers. Ouaga is the closest thing to America that one can find in Burkina Faso. There are many restaurants, bars, and night clubs that cater to tourists, and ex-pats. I managed to have a breakfast of bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, and something resembling coffee at the International School of Ouagadougou. The only thing missing was some aging waitress who calls me 'hon' and refills my coffee faster than I can drink it. I miss her a whole lot. My coffee arrived warm halfway through my meal, and when I asked for a refill I was charged for another cup and it took 15 minutes. Despite the coffee situation, the meal was one of the best Ive had in months and I left ISO with a smile on my face.
Despite its nicities, there is a madness to Ouaga, an energy and bustle that can become very overwhelming. The throngs of motos spewing fumes, the animal smell, and calls of vendors combined with the fact that Americans stick out like a sore thumb holding a $100 bill. Its like no city I've ever experienced. It was a good couple of days, with plenty of cold drinks and good food. But I am very happy to be back in familiar Dori, with my books, and my familar market. My neighbors were very glad to see me returned, and I ate and drank tea with them. When I returned to my house last night I found that I have electricity; which filled me with unexpressable joy. I immediately found the fan I had stored away, stripped down, and sat in front of it reading in my underwear with a smile on my face.
The Japanese volunteers are going to return to Dori in several days and we are going to start work on the exposition for Dori NGOs. I am really looking forward to getting some real work done.
Monday, September 7, 2009
A Cultural Exchange
Well the time is just flying by and its wild to think that I've already been here for a week. I've been settling in slowly but surely. I finally got gas hooked up and am able to cook without waiting for coals to heat up (ahh, the comforts of modern living).
The director of the school that I live near is still MIA. He really doesn't have much reason to stay in Dori, as the school year hasn't started yet. I'd really like to talk to him though, as he controls my electricity. I've been getting by just fine without it though. I just finished reading Cat's Cradle, and Breakfast of Champions by Vonnegut, and am slowly working through The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins (which I would reccommend to even the devoutly religious).
I'm just about finished with a large mural on my wall, and will try to post some pictures eventually somehow.
Last night I met up with some Japanese volunteers who are currently working here in Dori. They are with a program that is similar to Peace Corps in many respects. We went to a restaurant for chicken, fries, and beer. One of them is planning an exposition for a bunch of NGOs in Dori, and invited me to attend. Basically I'll be running a booth with information about Peace Corps. It was really nice to get out and chat for a while, even if the language barrier was sometimes a bit difficult to overcome. We spoke French, I fielded questions about the U.S., and asked a few about Japan. A good time was had by all, and we concluded that everyone will come chez-moi by the end of the week for some hommus, tabouli, and whatever else I can pull off (homemade arabic bread perhaps).
During dinner I lamented the fact that it is difficult to prepare certain foods without refridgeration. It's wise to buy meat from the market earlier in the day, if you want to get good quality, fresh meat. However, nobody wants to chow down on a hot steak at 9 a.m. when its 80 some degrees out. One of the Japanese volunteers informed me that not only do they have a fridge, but also RUNNING WATER!!!!!!!! Not to mention an generous living allowance, and even an air-conditioned palace for volunteers in Ouaga. I told him that I would be having a talk with PC Washington asap.
Apparently the application process for PC is far more competative than for the Japanese organization, so it is necessary to provide certain amenities to volunteers. There simply aren't as many applicants; and the number would drop even lower if people didn't have the nicities of modern living.
Don't get me wrong I am more than comfortable in my home right now, I live rather simply but there is something to be said for that. You don't really appreciate running water until you've had to lug two 10 gallon tanks from your pump back to your house every morning. And that cold bucket bath is so much sweeter after you've worked up a sweat.
The director of the school that I live near is still MIA. He really doesn't have much reason to stay in Dori, as the school year hasn't started yet. I'd really like to talk to him though, as he controls my electricity. I've been getting by just fine without it though. I just finished reading Cat's Cradle, and Breakfast of Champions by Vonnegut, and am slowly working through The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins (which I would reccommend to even the devoutly religious).
I'm just about finished with a large mural on my wall, and will try to post some pictures eventually somehow.
Last night I met up with some Japanese volunteers who are currently working here in Dori. They are with a program that is similar to Peace Corps in many respects. We went to a restaurant for chicken, fries, and beer. One of them is planning an exposition for a bunch of NGOs in Dori, and invited me to attend. Basically I'll be running a booth with information about Peace Corps. It was really nice to get out and chat for a while, even if the language barrier was sometimes a bit difficult to overcome. We spoke French, I fielded questions about the U.S., and asked a few about Japan. A good time was had by all, and we concluded that everyone will come chez-moi by the end of the week for some hommus, tabouli, and whatever else I can pull off (homemade arabic bread perhaps).
During dinner I lamented the fact that it is difficult to prepare certain foods without refridgeration. It's wise to buy meat from the market earlier in the day, if you want to get good quality, fresh meat. However, nobody wants to chow down on a hot steak at 9 a.m. when its 80 some degrees out. One of the Japanese volunteers informed me that not only do they have a fridge, but also RUNNING WATER!!!!!!!! Not to mention an generous living allowance, and even an air-conditioned palace for volunteers in Ouaga. I told him that I would be having a talk with PC Washington asap.
Apparently the application process for PC is far more competative than for the Japanese organization, so it is necessary to provide certain amenities to volunteers. There simply aren't as many applicants; and the number would drop even lower if people didn't have the nicities of modern living.
Don't get me wrong I am more than comfortable in my home right now, I live rather simply but there is something to be said for that. You don't really appreciate running water until you've had to lug two 10 gallon tanks from your pump back to your house every morning. And that cold bucket bath is so much sweeter after you've worked up a sweat.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Hunky Dori
So I didnt live up to my promise of posting shortly following swear-in. Our days in Ouaga were really packed. Between swimming, dancing, eating, and touring the embassy we really didnt have much time.
Ouaga was incredible, but once again a bittersweet experience. We arrived early this week and checked into a Hotel in centre-ville. We were close to Marina Market (heaven) which is a western style supermarket complete with flourescent lighting and check out counters. After three months in Bogoya I got a little weak in the knees upon entering this air-conditioned paradise. Street food in Ouaga is amazing, and the restaurants are even better (double bacon cheeseburger and onion rings anyone?). There was a man outside our hotel selling brochette sandwiches (meat grilled on a stick, with grilled onions, veggies, and spicy mustard). He serves it all hot off the grill on a baguette. I finished mine off during a medical session in which we were advised against eating street food.
Our swearing in ceremony was very nice. Five volunteers gave speeches in different languages including French. It was really a testament to how far we have all come. The Charger Daffairs at the embassy gave a very nice speech to us in French and English. He is the main man at the embassy, and an American (of course).
We all went out for dinner and dancing following the ceremony. It was tons of fun, but many of us had to part ways the following morning. I stayed in Ouaga until Friday morning (yesterday), and got to relax for a few days.
I Arrived in Dori in the midday heat to find that the rainy season has destroyed my courtyard wall and hanger, leaving me without much shade. The wind also blew my windows open and covered everything in the house with a thick layer of sand. Mais, ca va aller. I enlisted the help of some EXTREMELY energetic Burkinabe kids to help me sweep out the house. I tried to move most of my things into another room before they showed up so that they wouldnt be distracted but it didnt help all that much. After a solid 15 minutes of work they started saying ¨Donnez-moi un cadeaux¨(give me a present). I told them they could have a bon-bon each when they finished and I managed to squeeze another 5 minutes out of them. I was really grateful for their help, but I dont want to establish myself as the white guy who gives out candy.
I received three packages full of books, spices, and beef jerky immediately before my departure, they really made my day. Im already at the end of Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut. I dont just devour books here, I inhale without chewing. These first three months are supposed to be spent relaxing and settling in, getting to know the community, etc. So with the schools still on break for another month or more, Im taking things slowly and reading a lot. I should have a new tank of gas for cooking (which I am very excited to do) by tommorow, and electricity by the end of the week. For now; Im getting by on canned tuna (a luxury), and rice from local restaurants. There is even a nice cafe 2 minutes away from my house that makes a killer omlette sandwich.
For now, Im going to take a much needed cold bucket bath. Its funny the stuff you find yourself looking forward to here. In the process of cleaning my house I managed to become coated in a layer of sand and sweat; something else Ill have to get used to. Thanks for reading!! Next time you are out to eat order a cold milkshake for me.
Ouaga was incredible, but once again a bittersweet experience. We arrived early this week and checked into a Hotel in centre-ville. We were close to Marina Market (heaven) which is a western style supermarket complete with flourescent lighting and check out counters. After three months in Bogoya I got a little weak in the knees upon entering this air-conditioned paradise. Street food in Ouaga is amazing, and the restaurants are even better (double bacon cheeseburger and onion rings anyone?). There was a man outside our hotel selling brochette sandwiches (meat grilled on a stick, with grilled onions, veggies, and spicy mustard). He serves it all hot off the grill on a baguette. I finished mine off during a medical session in which we were advised against eating street food.
Our swearing in ceremony was very nice. Five volunteers gave speeches in different languages including French. It was really a testament to how far we have all come. The Charger Daffairs at the embassy gave a very nice speech to us in French and English. He is the main man at the embassy, and an American (of course).
We all went out for dinner and dancing following the ceremony. It was tons of fun, but many of us had to part ways the following morning. I stayed in Ouaga until Friday morning (yesterday), and got to relax for a few days.
I Arrived in Dori in the midday heat to find that the rainy season has destroyed my courtyard wall and hanger, leaving me without much shade. The wind also blew my windows open and covered everything in the house with a thick layer of sand. Mais, ca va aller. I enlisted the help of some EXTREMELY energetic Burkinabe kids to help me sweep out the house. I tried to move most of my things into another room before they showed up so that they wouldnt be distracted but it didnt help all that much. After a solid 15 minutes of work they started saying ¨Donnez-moi un cadeaux¨(give me a present). I told them they could have a bon-bon each when they finished and I managed to squeeze another 5 minutes out of them. I was really grateful for their help, but I dont want to establish myself as the white guy who gives out candy.
I received three packages full of books, spices, and beef jerky immediately before my departure, they really made my day. Im already at the end of Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut. I dont just devour books here, I inhale without chewing. These first three months are supposed to be spent relaxing and settling in, getting to know the community, etc. So with the schools still on break for another month or more, Im taking things slowly and reading a lot. I should have a new tank of gas for cooking (which I am very excited to do) by tommorow, and electricity by the end of the week. For now; Im getting by on canned tuna (a luxury), and rice from local restaurants. There is even a nice cafe 2 minutes away from my house that makes a killer omlette sandwich.
For now, Im going to take a much needed cold bucket bath. Its funny the stuff you find yourself looking forward to here. In the process of cleaning my house I managed to become coated in a layer of sand and sweat; something else Ill have to get used to. Thanks for reading!! Next time you are out to eat order a cold milkshake for me.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Wakka Wakka Ouaga
Im currently sitting on a blindingly fast computer using free internet in an air conditioned hotel. When we find ourselves in situations like this we refer to it as "posh corps". Why am I here in Ouaga? I dont have a parasite or an IT meeting, so it could only mean SWEAR IN IN 2 DAYS!!!
Everyone is in really high spirits. We said goodbye to our host families in Bogoya (training village) and had a couple of days in Ouahigouya doing last minute stuff. Last night we had a big dinner followed by dancing to celebrate the end of training. The closing ceremony in Bogoya was really great for everyone, my host father translated our French into Moore for the rest of the villageois. We ate a questionable but palatable melange of macaroni and fish. The following morning before final goodbyes we had a photographer come in and take a family photograph. Unfortunately; I was unable to obtain a copy as we had to leave before they were developed. The whole ordeal was definitley bittersweet, but I am glad to have the homestay part of training behind me.
Ill post again in a few days following swear-in, Ill be in Ouaga until Friday before being driven out to Dori to get settled in for 2 years at site!
Everyone is in really high spirits. We said goodbye to our host families in Bogoya (training village) and had a couple of days in Ouahigouya doing last minute stuff. Last night we had a big dinner followed by dancing to celebrate the end of training. The closing ceremony in Bogoya was really great for everyone, my host father translated our French into Moore for the rest of the villageois. We ate a questionable but palatable melange of macaroni and fish. The following morning before final goodbyes we had a photographer come in and take a family photograph. Unfortunately; I was unable to obtain a copy as we had to leave before they were developed. The whole ordeal was definitley bittersweet, but I am glad to have the homestay part of training behind me.
Ill post again in a few days following swear-in, Ill be in Ouaga until Friday before being driven out to Dori to get settled in for 2 years at site!
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Daddys Girl and the Avocado
Culture shocks are something that occur when you move to a new place. They are a discomfort that is produced when we witness the behaviors of a people with a drastically different way of living. Personally; I havent had many thus far as I try to keep an open mind, and many of my friends at home have lived in close to third world conditions (waters edge, cedar village, 532 come to mind).
The oddities that Ive experienced have typically been on the lighter side; Burkinabe fashion for example. While the country was colonized by the French; there is a lack of Haut Couture.
Popular T-shirts here include; GIANT middle finger hand with several flashy rings, (I saw this number being worn by a kid of about 8), A sleevless white T (manufactured sleeveless, not altered) reading First Lady Fanclub Hillary Rodham Clinton (I saw a grown man sporting this one), a Pulaski Family Reunion Peoria IL shirt, and last but not least, my personal favorite, the pink Tshirt with Daddys Girl written in pink sparkles (seen on a hip younger male on his way to the club). I dont know that I quite understand the process that went in to spotting, buying, and eventually wearing the shirt. Though to a young burkinabe guy trying very hard to look hip, something with a little bling goes a long way.
There is a contest going to see if people can find a tshirt from their university. A few people have been successful.
(((DISCLAIMER!!! Dont get me wrong though. Typically Burkabe dress to the nines. I am constantly surpised at how crisp and clean their clothes are despite the dirt and dust. Men usually wear collared button down shirts and dress slacks with nice shoes and women get clothes made from fabric available at the markets. )))
The fashion oddities that occur here raise an interesting point. They highlight the fact that there is a worldwide cycle of materials. The items that are most desirable are held onto for a longer period of time while those less desirable are given away (why throw out perfectly good clothes when someone else could use them!). However, there are certain items that nobody ever wanted...ever. They are either in very bad taste or totally missed their mark, the giant middle finger shirt for example. Perhaps one misled teenager somewhere in Iowa thought it to be cool for a summer until his mom made him stop wearing it and it ended up in a church donation bin. While these donation bins exist with the purpose of clothing the naked, they inundate the third world with the remnants of our fashion-forward throw-away culture. This doesnt mean I dont crack a smile or even laugh just a little bit when I see a grown man in a Hillary Clinton sleeveless T.
Moving on... Children here are very creative. At the risk of sounding like a curmudgeon, they have fun without fancy toys, video games, or expensive fads. They make most of the toys that they play with. The classic toy ¨a tire¨ is very popular, especially when propelled down the street with ¨a stick¨. My personal favorite though is the (blank) on a string, the item could be a rock, a bag, a box, a bit of plastic, another bit of string, or my personal favorite; the avocado. Another volunteer described a perpetually naked boy in his village that ran around for two days with a pet avocado on a string before eventually caving in and eating it. One volunteer sighted a group of 3 children with pet boxes followed by a child dragging a computer motherboard on a string. So they arent all completely low tech.
Villages usually have a few people with TVs. And some people even have a DVD player. The movie selection consists of bootleg kung-fu flicks. The young boys here LOVE Ong-Bak, The Thai Warrior (and lets be honest I do to). You cant take a picture of them without them striking a killer martial arts pose. However their love of Ong Bak has led to a bit of brand recognition and concurrent imitation. I saw a movie labeled Ong Bak 6 at the marché, and I know for a fact that there have not been 4 new Thai Warrior movies made since I left the U.S. (yes I know The Protector is not technically Ong Bak 2, but lets be honest...it is Ong Bak 2).
Well thats enough cultural oddities for the day. Ive experienced some others but I dont want to give away all of my good material at one time. Thanks for reading!
The oddities that Ive experienced have typically been on the lighter side; Burkinabe fashion for example. While the country was colonized by the French; there is a lack of Haut Couture.
Popular T-shirts here include; GIANT middle finger hand with several flashy rings, (I saw this number being worn by a kid of about 8), A sleevless white T (manufactured sleeveless, not altered) reading First Lady Fanclub Hillary Rodham Clinton (I saw a grown man sporting this one), a Pulaski Family Reunion Peoria IL shirt, and last but not least, my personal favorite, the pink Tshirt with Daddys Girl written in pink sparkles (seen on a hip younger male on his way to the club). I dont know that I quite understand the process that went in to spotting, buying, and eventually wearing the shirt. Though to a young burkinabe guy trying very hard to look hip, something with a little bling goes a long way.
There is a contest going to see if people can find a tshirt from their university. A few people have been successful.
(((DISCLAIMER!!! Dont get me wrong though. Typically Burkabe dress to the nines. I am constantly surpised at how crisp and clean their clothes are despite the dirt and dust. Men usually wear collared button down shirts and dress slacks with nice shoes and women get clothes made from fabric available at the markets. )))
The fashion oddities that occur here raise an interesting point. They highlight the fact that there is a worldwide cycle of materials. The items that are most desirable are held onto for a longer period of time while those less desirable are given away (why throw out perfectly good clothes when someone else could use them!). However, there are certain items that nobody ever wanted...ever. They are either in very bad taste or totally missed their mark, the giant middle finger shirt for example. Perhaps one misled teenager somewhere in Iowa thought it to be cool for a summer until his mom made him stop wearing it and it ended up in a church donation bin. While these donation bins exist with the purpose of clothing the naked, they inundate the third world with the remnants of our fashion-forward throw-away culture. This doesnt mean I dont crack a smile or even laugh just a little bit when I see a grown man in a Hillary Clinton sleeveless T.
Moving on... Children here are very creative. At the risk of sounding like a curmudgeon, they have fun without fancy toys, video games, or expensive fads. They make most of the toys that they play with. The classic toy ¨a tire¨ is very popular, especially when propelled down the street with ¨a stick¨. My personal favorite though is the (blank) on a string, the item could be a rock, a bag, a box, a bit of plastic, another bit of string, or my personal favorite; the avocado. Another volunteer described a perpetually naked boy in his village that ran around for two days with a pet avocado on a string before eventually caving in and eating it. One volunteer sighted a group of 3 children with pet boxes followed by a child dragging a computer motherboard on a string. So they arent all completely low tech.
Villages usually have a few people with TVs. And some people even have a DVD player. The movie selection consists of bootleg kung-fu flicks. The young boys here LOVE Ong-Bak, The Thai Warrior (and lets be honest I do to). You cant take a picture of them without them striking a killer martial arts pose. However their love of Ong Bak has led to a bit of brand recognition and concurrent imitation. I saw a movie labeled Ong Bak 6 at the marché, and I know for a fact that there have not been 4 new Thai Warrior movies made since I left the U.S. (yes I know The Protector is not technically Ong Bak 2, but lets be honest...it is Ong Bak 2).
Well thats enough cultural oddities for the day. Ive experienced some others but I dont want to give away all of my good material at one time. Thanks for reading!
Saturday, July 25, 2009
In Dori
I am currently in Dori on my site visit. Im spending four nights here; meeting and greeting people. In the words of our Country Director it is important to ¨genuflect at all the tabernacles¨. I believe he was quoting someone else.
So I met the director of the school; as well as some Japanese volunteers working on environmental projects. We did a bit of a tour of the city and my counterpart (man who is showing me around) even bought me some cold yogurt. It is pretty much the closest thing to ice cream readily available here and its damn good on a hot Sahelien afternoon.
Im very excited about my house. Im living large by peace corps, an burkinabe standards. Ive got a living room, kitchen, AND bedroom. Also another random detached room that is supposed to be for cooking that I dont really use. Around back there is another structure with a toilet (hole) and shower (bucket and hole). Everything has concrete floors (a luxury here); and i even have (drum roll) ELECTRICITY. I nearly shoved my index finger in the socket I was so excited but my counterpart advised against this. I also have a gang of boys ages 7-11 that I can give pieces of gum to in exchange for them hauling water. Only they can get overly excited and bring me roughly 100 gallons of water expecting 50 pieces of gum in return. My neighbors are very friendly and have been keeping an eye out for me during my stay. The house is extremely well furnished with a gas stove, tables, and plenty of seating. I expect guests on their way north to Mali and the Sahara. As soon as I am able Ill post pictures though the heat has been messing with my camera.
Ive been reading alot. I just finished Dont Lets Go to the Dogs Tonight by Alexandra Fuller, 2001 A Space Odessy by Arthur C. Clarke, Foundation by Issac Asimov, and The Demon Haunted World; science as a candle in the dark by Carl Sagan, Im about to start Far From the Maddening Crowd by I Forget, and To Sail Beyond the Sunset by Robert Heinlein.
It is hard to believe that in a short 4 weeks I will be in Ouaga dressed in Burkinabe attire swearing in as a full fledged volunteer. Go me. Questions or comments I would love to answer them.
So I met the director of the school; as well as some Japanese volunteers working on environmental projects. We did a bit of a tour of the city and my counterpart (man who is showing me around) even bought me some cold yogurt. It is pretty much the closest thing to ice cream readily available here and its damn good on a hot Sahelien afternoon.
Im very excited about my house. Im living large by peace corps, an burkinabe standards. Ive got a living room, kitchen, AND bedroom. Also another random detached room that is supposed to be for cooking that I dont really use. Around back there is another structure with a toilet (hole) and shower (bucket and hole). Everything has concrete floors (a luxury here); and i even have (drum roll) ELECTRICITY. I nearly shoved my index finger in the socket I was so excited but my counterpart advised against this. I also have a gang of boys ages 7-11 that I can give pieces of gum to in exchange for them hauling water. Only they can get overly excited and bring me roughly 100 gallons of water expecting 50 pieces of gum in return. My neighbors are very friendly and have been keeping an eye out for me during my stay. The house is extremely well furnished with a gas stove, tables, and plenty of seating. I expect guests on their way north to Mali and the Sahara. As soon as I am able Ill post pictures though the heat has been messing with my camera.
Ive been reading alot. I just finished Dont Lets Go to the Dogs Tonight by Alexandra Fuller, 2001 A Space Odessy by Arthur C. Clarke, Foundation by Issac Asimov, and The Demon Haunted World; science as a candle in the dark by Carl Sagan, Im about to start Far From the Maddening Crowd by I Forget, and To Sail Beyond the Sunset by Robert Heinlein.
It is hard to believe that in a short 4 weeks I will be in Ouaga dressed in Burkinabe attire swearing in as a full fledged volunteer. Go me. Questions or comments I would love to answer them.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Big News
So Im well into my fourth week here in Burkina; and I have acclimated pretty well. I now consider 85°F to be a cool day, though I still miss the food in the U.S. Here is a brief run down of what Ive been eating;
Benga. Its rice and beans and for a few CFA extra you can get onions and cukes on it. Its filling and cheap though they use far too much oil in its (and everythings) preparation.
Riz Sauce. Just like the name says Rice with ¨sauce¨. This can vary from excellent to inedible depending on the sauce. Peanut sauce is usually pretty safe but the sauce ¨viande¨(meat of some sort. goat is pretty common) can cause problems.
Bread. straight up french bread, usually really good in larger cities. Some of the stores even carry laughing cow cheese if you want to drop come coin on lunch.
Brochettes. Meat on a stick best thing ever with a cold Brakina.
Cous Cous. Hopefully not with fish. Burkina is a landlocked country and the poisson can sometimes be questionable.
To. To is eaten by the burkinabe and is hard to describe. It is ground mill mixed with water that is boiled down to a white substance the consistency of playdoh. It is served with a few different sauces usually fish, baobab, and piment (pepper). you eat it with your hands and dip it into the sauce. Unlike anything ive ever eaten.
CHICKEN IN A BAG. This is the penultimate dining experience in Ouahigouya. A whole chicken placed in a paper bag flash fried and then grilled with sweet onions. Expensive but worth every CFA. usually around 2000 CFA. This is roughly 4 USD. Consider benga is usually never more than 150 CFA.
Moving on; I GOT MY SITE INFORMATION. This is huge news. Im going to be serving in the city of Dori, a desrt city through and through. This city is the regional capital of the Sahel region. The Sahel is in the north and borders Mali and the Sahara desert. While the placement itself is pretty ¨hard corps¨, Im going to be replacing another volunteer. Because of this Ill have a nice place with electricity and other amenities. It has been described to me as ¨a very cool city¨ and as ¨a sandbox¨. Apparently a lot of volunteers visit Dori so I can look forward to hosting people.
Things are going pretty well out here. Ive been playing the harmonica alot and singing parody songs about To and the runs at community meetings. Aside from this we like to pass the time by torturing each other with near pornographic descriptions of food. We held a meeting with a parent teacher organization recently and it went very well. We did a sort of needs assessment. I was slightly disappointed that no mothers of students could attend as the women were all still out working the fields. It had rained that day so the ground was soft. Most people in my village use this opportunity to get a ton of cultivating done. Nonetheless it was sucessful.
We had a fourth of july party and I did a good amount of food prep. I made pasta salad for an army. We even had burgers, fries, and beer. Anyway its about lunch time. Give me some sugestions or questions for next time Im able to sit down in front of a computer.
Au Revoir!
Benga. Its rice and beans and for a few CFA extra you can get onions and cukes on it. Its filling and cheap though they use far too much oil in its (and everythings) preparation.
Riz Sauce. Just like the name says Rice with ¨sauce¨. This can vary from excellent to inedible depending on the sauce. Peanut sauce is usually pretty safe but the sauce ¨viande¨(meat of some sort. goat is pretty common) can cause problems.
Bread. straight up french bread, usually really good in larger cities. Some of the stores even carry laughing cow cheese if you want to drop come coin on lunch.
Brochettes. Meat on a stick best thing ever with a cold Brakina.
Cous Cous. Hopefully not with fish. Burkina is a landlocked country and the poisson can sometimes be questionable.
To. To is eaten by the burkinabe and is hard to describe. It is ground mill mixed with water that is boiled down to a white substance the consistency of playdoh. It is served with a few different sauces usually fish, baobab, and piment (pepper). you eat it with your hands and dip it into the sauce. Unlike anything ive ever eaten.
CHICKEN IN A BAG. This is the penultimate dining experience in Ouahigouya. A whole chicken placed in a paper bag flash fried and then grilled with sweet onions. Expensive but worth every CFA. usually around 2000 CFA. This is roughly 4 USD. Consider benga is usually never more than 150 CFA.
Moving on; I GOT MY SITE INFORMATION. This is huge news. Im going to be serving in the city of Dori, a desrt city through and through. This city is the regional capital of the Sahel region. The Sahel is in the north and borders Mali and the Sahara desert. While the placement itself is pretty ¨hard corps¨, Im going to be replacing another volunteer. Because of this Ill have a nice place with electricity and other amenities. It has been described to me as ¨a very cool city¨ and as ¨a sandbox¨. Apparently a lot of volunteers visit Dori so I can look forward to hosting people.
Things are going pretty well out here. Ive been playing the harmonica alot and singing parody songs about To and the runs at community meetings. Aside from this we like to pass the time by torturing each other with near pornographic descriptions of food. We held a meeting with a parent teacher organization recently and it went very well. We did a sort of needs assessment. I was slightly disappointed that no mothers of students could attend as the women were all still out working the fields. It had rained that day so the ground was soft. Most people in my village use this opportunity to get a ton of cultivating done. Nonetheless it was sucessful.
We had a fourth of july party and I did a good amount of food prep. I made pasta salad for an army. We even had burgers, fries, and beer. Anyway its about lunch time. Give me some sugestions or questions for next time Im able to sit down in front of a computer.
Au Revoir!
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Week 1 in the bag.
So heres whats been going down the past few days. I flew out of Detroit for Philly and met up with the other volunteers to go through staging. Everyone here is great and gets along just fine. There are 32 of us all together (half girls ed half secondary ed with a few random IT guys).
Philly was a great time. and I had fun getting to know everyone; and afterwards we went out and ate a fairly extravagant dinner (seafood risotto oh yes) on uncle sams per diem money. We woke up early in the morning the next day and got immunized for yellow fever and were given our first dose of malaria prophylaxis.
We flew to Paris on an uneventful flight and waited in Charles De Gaulle where we met another volunteer on her way back to Burkina from a vacation in the US. We were supposed to refuel in Niger but the plane got grounded there and I got my first taste of Africa. The first I noticed stepping onto the Tarmac in Niamey was the air. It is so thick and hot here and has the slightest smell of charcoal. The sun was hanging low and lazy over a flat orange and red horizon.
We were put up at a hotel in Niamey by Air France and had even more opportunity to get to know each other. However the bus ride in the morning back to the airport was an eye opening one. Niger is extremely impoverished. Children run up to passing busses trying to sell bread, mango, and peanuts. Villages made of mud brick are scattered everywhere behind buildings made of corrugated metal.
Our stay in Niger was very brief but still something that I wont soon forget.
Moving on... We landed in Ouaga about an hour after departing from Niamey. Its hard to describe my first impressions of the city without sounding negative. I was, and still am extremely happy to be in Burkina. Ill save the detailed descriptions; do a google photo search or something.
Since then our time has been very regimented. I moved in with a host family in the village of Bogoya (8k bike ride from Ouahigouya) and they have been extremely generous and hospitable. Im currently taking language classes in French and Mooré and am progressing well. Everyone in my village speaks Mooré so Ive learned a few greetings ( very important to greet EVERYONE). Im still healthy as can be unlike some of the other volunteers, and plan on staying that way. Also Im 10 days smoke free.
Anyway I have to bike back to village and I need to beat the heat, It should be around 100° today.
Philly was a great time. and I had fun getting to know everyone; and afterwards we went out and ate a fairly extravagant dinner (seafood risotto oh yes) on uncle sams per diem money. We woke up early in the morning the next day and got immunized for yellow fever and were given our first dose of malaria prophylaxis.
We flew to Paris on an uneventful flight and waited in Charles De Gaulle where we met another volunteer on her way back to Burkina from a vacation in the US. We were supposed to refuel in Niger but the plane got grounded there and I got my first taste of Africa. The first I noticed stepping onto the Tarmac in Niamey was the air. It is so thick and hot here and has the slightest smell of charcoal. The sun was hanging low and lazy over a flat orange and red horizon.
We were put up at a hotel in Niamey by Air France and had even more opportunity to get to know each other. However the bus ride in the morning back to the airport was an eye opening one. Niger is extremely impoverished. Children run up to passing busses trying to sell bread, mango, and peanuts. Villages made of mud brick are scattered everywhere behind buildings made of corrugated metal.
Our stay in Niger was very brief but still something that I wont soon forget.
Moving on... We landed in Ouaga about an hour after departing from Niamey. Its hard to describe my first impressions of the city without sounding negative. I was, and still am extremely happy to be in Burkina. Ill save the detailed descriptions; do a google photo search or something.
Since then our time has been very regimented. I moved in with a host family in the village of Bogoya (8k bike ride from Ouahigouya) and they have been extremely generous and hospitable. Im currently taking language classes in French and Mooré and am progressing well. Everyone in my village speaks Mooré so Ive learned a few greetings ( very important to greet EVERYONE). Im still healthy as can be unlike some of the other volunteers, and plan on staying that way. Also Im 10 days smoke free.
Anyway I have to bike back to village and I need to beat the heat, It should be around 100° today.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Contact Info
So here we are. I'm scheduled to leave for staging tomorrow morning. My flight leaves at 9:14 from Detroit Metro and arrives in Philly a short while later. I'll be there until the morning of the 11th and I'll have my phone with me to make some last minute calls. I want to put a big thank you out to everyone who has supported me up to this point.
Today I met with a man who served in BF during the mid 70s. He has done well for himself and he continues to be active in a number of ongoing programs in BF. We sat down for breakfast and I agreed to take a digital camera to a friend of his who lives in Ouagadougou. I think it will be a great way to help out a former volunteer and his friend, as well as a way for me to connect locally.
Anyways lets get down to business; contact info:
Evan M. Johnson
Corps de la Paix Americain
01 BP 6031 Ouagadougou 01
Burkina Faso, W. Africa
My email is:
Emjdj1@gmail.com
I will have to post my African phone number once I get it. This may take a month or so. For all of you Michiganders reading, time in BF is 4 hours ahead. That's all for now folks, I've got to stuff some last minute things into my carry-on.
Today I met with a man who served in BF during the mid 70s. He has done well for himself and he continues to be active in a number of ongoing programs in BF. We sat down for breakfast and I agreed to take a digital camera to a friend of his who lives in Ouagadougou. I think it will be a great way to help out a former volunteer and his friend, as well as a way for me to connect locally.
Anyways lets get down to business; contact info:
Evan M. Johnson
Corps de la Paix Americain
01 BP 6031 Ouagadougou 01
Burkina Faso, W. Africa
My email is:
Emjdj1@gmail.com
I will have to post my African phone number once I get it. This may take a month or so. For all of you Michiganders reading, time in BF is 4 hours ahead. That's all for now folks, I've got to stuff some last minute things into my carry-on.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Bienvenue!
Welcome to my blog...
The purpose of this blog is to keep friends, family, and anyone else who is interested informed of my Peace Corps volunteer experience. I received my invitation packet a little over 2 weeks ago and am to serve in the country of Burkina Faso for 2 years, following 3 months in country training. I am to work with a program called Girls Education and Empowerment (GEE). I'll be acting as a liaison between communities and schools, and working to improve the quality of education overall.
I've been a strange combination of excited, nervous, and curious lately; and have been trying to gather as much information as possible about BF. Aside from that, I've been continuing my volunteer work at Baker Middle School, which I am growing to enjoy more and more, despite the stresses that come with working in a special needs classroom. I'm also trying to improve my French skills so I can spend more time learning a local language while I am on assignment. It occurs to me more and more that language is ultimately going to be my largest asset while I am abroad. In order to gain the trust and respect of the community that I am working in, I am going to have to be able to communicate effectively.
As of now we are currently 2 months and 19 days away from my scheduled departure date, June 10th.
The purpose of this blog is to keep friends, family, and anyone else who is interested informed of my Peace Corps volunteer experience. I received my invitation packet a little over 2 weeks ago and am to serve in the country of Burkina Faso for 2 years, following 3 months in country training. I am to work with a program called Girls Education and Empowerment (GEE). I'll be acting as a liaison between communities and schools, and working to improve the quality of education overall.
I've been a strange combination of excited, nervous, and curious lately; and have been trying to gather as much information as possible about BF. Aside from that, I've been continuing my volunteer work at Baker Middle School, which I am growing to enjoy more and more, despite the stresses that come with working in a special needs classroom. I'm also trying to improve my French skills so I can spend more time learning a local language while I am on assignment. It occurs to me more and more that language is ultimately going to be my largest asset while I am abroad. In order to gain the trust and respect of the community that I am working in, I am going to have to be able to communicate effectively.
As of now we are currently 2 months and 19 days away from my scheduled departure date, June 10th.
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