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!
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