A little collection of events in a new village

Well, I have now been to my site! I arrived back in Ougadougou after an 8 hour trek on Sunday afternoon.  High lights of my site visit:

-I met the prefet of the district (some one that does something important in terms of law and justice and all that, though I'm not exactly sure what), who immediately tumbled some mix of jargled sounds at our first meeting at a little cafe in the bus station.  So, I asked, about this tumble, a very rational question--what language are you speaking? Logical, as I had been navigating through four all morning (French, English, Jula, and Buamu, another regional dialect).  He said, in perfect French, "No, no, that's my name." Of course all the other official people were present too, perfectly placed to join in the eruption of belly laughs that ensued.

-My arrival to my village was not greeted by drums like I expected but rather by a smiling, rather-pale-for West-Africa-gentleman with a balaphone, an instrument in appearance like a homemade xylophone, replete with gourds, hemp string, and sticks for banging.  For some reason, it sounded out of tune to me though, a little too low, creating a weirdly macabre interlacing of rhythms.  I could imagine dancing skeletons, like Dia de los Muertos in Africa.  Weird, but still cool.

-The road, all four hours of it on the way to my village, in the Peace Corps car, was most adequately described as hundreds of miles of washboard.  The car rattled, I rattled, the bags rattled, it all rattled.  At one point I wondered if perhaps the car would rattle itself to pieces while still actually moving forward, like a comic version of Newton's Laws of Motion (the first to be specific).

-My site is more of a "city" than my village in Mali was.  And by city, I mean that there are several boutiques, little restaurants, a niiicce bus station, quite a few people (couple thousand for sure), and a variety of religions represented, including Islam, Christianity, and Animism.  Not to imply there is anything to crazy, like electricity or some such nonsense.

-I found myself at a major soccer tounament, like the biggest one of the year and the biggest one in the district I'm sure, on Saturday afternoon.  I strolled with my new friend of 24 hours, Monique, across town, past kapok and mango trees, and by all her friends (she's 23 and in school), to the field, pouring sweat from every inch of me, but keeping the corners of my mouth tucked upwards as much as possible in a permanent grin.  Odd looks ensued as soon as we reached the crowd, further enhanced by surprise after I spoke a little Jula.  We walked right over to an important looking tent, still mostly empty.  It soon filled with all the officials I met the day before, including the mayor, cozy as can be on plushy recliner, and, of course, the prefet, by whom I had made a fool of myself.  Then, the announcers set up shop, right in front of Monique and I.  And the cameras started to pan their way, my way.  And I realized just what a funny white spot I must look like in this big black crowd.  Being a weirdo for hours is exhausting, turns out, and I slept like a big white rock that night.

-I am working with a women's association that makes goodies like shea butter, leaf mixes for sauce, and diollo, a vinaigre-y, warm, millet beer served out of a calabash (like a gourd half) that most defintely Not grown on me yet, much to the associations amusement at pinched face upon drinking it. 

So, it was good.  I'm happy and I think I'll be happy.  It's not Mali, but it's neat and I'm excited to try it out.

Wish me luck!

Two more weeks in Ouga till I go back.

Bye for now--

Site Visit take two

Well, I'm up for another round of seconds tomorrow--site visit! This should be rather interesting.  Things I know about my site: it's not far from Bobo, a city that by all accounts sounds more charming than Ougadougou; it's on a main road, which means that 15k bike ride I was getting used to in Mali is now a relic; they speak Jula, which seems to be a broken and mumbled version of Bambara; and, last and most importantly, they are STOKED to be getting a volunteer, evidenced by extra-delicious to and raucous drum playing at every Peace Corps showing in town according to officials.  Oooh tomorrow should be quite a ride!

I'm sure there will be many memory triggers on this site visit from my time in Mali, as many things will likely appear the same, at least at first glance.  Yesterday, I visited another volunteer's site south of Ouga and felt the bittersweet pool of familarity in a place that's not mine.  I have been working (well, really more like wading through French) with a group of business owners, government workers, and Peace Corps homologues the last three days on something called PAC (already forgot what the acronym stands for).  Basically, Peace Corps invites these Burkinabe to grill and compliment Peace Corps according to its different elements.  It was a good moment for me to fully realize all the ways Peace Corps can work.  This includes: education on nutrition and sanitation; helping people sell local natural resources sustainably, including shea butter, baobob, dried mango, moringa powder, soap, etc.; working in schools as crazy American teachers; digging, deepening, or fixing wells; helping farmers get more harvest; aaaaand the list goes on. But, the newest cool one I just found out about is...making tofu! Amazing! It's not ACTUALLY that hard! And with its making villages get better soil (soy beans are nitrogen fixers, which can be hard to come by), a great source of protein and other vitamins, and some income generation.  Win win all around.  And now I can make a kickin' stir-fry. Lovely.

Being in this volunteers village, using a latrine again for the first time in months, smelling to sauce on my hand as I muffled a crowd stopping sneeze at an inopportune moment, and watching this volunteer navigate through five languages reminded me of what I'm getting my self into...again.  I've been living a Burkina-bourgeoisie life in Ouga these last few weeks, what with the running water, electric lights, and eating utensils. I'm excited, and humbled, to jump back into a life without such frivolities (I know my Nanny is cringing reading this). It won't be Mali again, but I'm sure I'll find new ways to love it here.

See you next week-
A la prochaine!

Peace Corps, Take Two--Aaaand, Action!

The last few days have been a whirlwind!  I arrived in Ougadougou (pronounced WAH gah dew goo--really like baby coos when broken down phonetically), Burkina Faso (pronounced bur KEEN a FA sew), in West Africa on Thursday, June 6th, with a crew of 34 completely shiny new future Peace Corps volunteers.  Before our touch down in Ouga, as Ougadougou is affectionaly called, I met all of these new trainees in Philadelphia for another round of the exact same prepartory staging event I completed just 6 short (and yet so very long!) months ago.  It was pretty strange to look around at everyone, imagining their anxieties and excitement so vividley, as a recent veteran of the experience.  As the news of my celebrity status started to trickly through the group, the questions started to seep in.  I enjoyed every minute of it!

The celebrity status has only gotten better since arriving in Burkina.  All the conversations with the Peace Corps associated people here has started out normal, with some odd looks at my broken French skills, followed by someone else's mention of my Peace Corps Mali evacuee status, and then either a look of renewed respect, or, the real pleasure, a rush of greetings in Bambara. Yaaayy! They speak Bamara, the lanuage I was learning in Mali!  Well, actually they speak Jula, which is very similar to Bambara.  I think my French is going to have a real shot at blooming here as well.  I rarely used it in Mali, but here it is used all the time.  It's great!

Burkina seems to be similar in many ways to Mali--the soils is a rusty red, the women wear the same decadent, multi-pattern and multi-colored clothes, kids still stare up moon-eyed at white faces, and the heat still swirls around you in a dusty hug. I am so happy.  I feel like I am coming home, a very strange feeling considering how short my time in Mali was and how many difficult growing pains I had.  I'm really excited, I feel prepared and recharged, and I'm totally thrilled to get to my site in a couple of weeks and dig in! In the meantime, I'll be desperately working on French and pouring over objectives and goals at the bureau. Woohoo!

Let's hope Burkina is a little gentler with me than Mali...

Be in touch soon! Bon nuit from Burkina--

Alex