Ouahigouya Letter 5 dated July 21, 2009

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Hello All,

It's time for a major update.

So, site visit was this past week. I had a big adventure. I will deliberately leave out my sites name, so this can be posted online for others to read. A large group of us left Wednesday morning at 6:15 to head to Ouaga with our counterparts. We lucked out and had our own STMB bus. Then I continued on to Bobo with my counterpart who by the way is pretty great. Our bus stopped halfway to Bobo and we got out and stretched our legs. I used the bathroom. At that stop it was fine, but it was nothing like the bathroom at the station in Ouaga. It was the most disgusting experience of my life. The smell alone was enough. I hid my nose in my shirt the entire time. And the maggots crawling on the floor were freaking me out. But I survived. It was a bit more hardcore, so Áa va aller. 

I bought some Dafani juice that was delicious and got back on the bus. My homologue bought some bread and chicken in a bag. If you haven't heard about chicken in a bag, shame on you. It's amazing and when you don't eat a whole lot of meat here, you really appreciate it. He shared that with me and I love him for that. The rest of the trip went by uneventful. I didn't talk much. I know, weird and new for me, but when you don't have a great grasp of the language that's what you're stuck doing. It's probably good for me. Once in Bobo, we met 2 PC staff members. We dropped one man off at the bureau in Bobo, I used the facilities - indoor toilet with running water and an actual toilet seat, so I was living the life for about 5-10 minutes there. Then the PC driver took my homologue and me all the way to our village. It was a very bumpy ride and I'm glad I was strapped in. I saw the 25K I planned on biking and my jaw dropped. The hills are ridiculous and I mean that. Not only are they long and some a bit steep, but they're majorly rocky. (I know majorly isn't an actual word, but I like to use it. :)) 

We finally arrived to my future village and the first place I saw was my future home. It's this little tiny house with a wavy tin roof. I have two little rooms, one with two windows and the other with one. I have my own walled-in courtyard that should have a door or gate to close it by the time I return. My W.C. is new and has doors that lock on the inside and the outside. My courtyard is huge in comparison to my house. I will have a hanger too. 

The house needs to be warmed up with some paint and it just needs to be moved in, but I know it'll work just fine. I plan on making it my own. I have a mattress, a seau (a pretty colored bucket used for bathing (bucket baths), washing, and other things), a little cup to assist with my bucket baths, a container to hold water, and there was a big thing filled with water, but I don't think that's mine to keep. My homologue paid for all of those things. Crazy and nice. I still wonder if I'm supposed to pay him back . . . 

Then we went to his house and hung out there, saying hellos to people along the way. He made dinner. First he fried plantains. Then he had two small tin cans. I asked what they were. Sardines. Oh... Then he proceeded to open each can and dump it over the fried plantains. What did you just do, I wondered? I worried because I heard that sardines in the states were really salty and I'm not a fan of salt. I tried it anyways and was pleasantly surprised to find it tasted good. The sardines tasted like the canned trout Lib and I love to eat from Trader Joes. 

We hung out a bit, then he had two young men get me some water and the 4 of us walked back to my house in the dark. I had my trusty non-battery twisty flashlight on hand and was focusing on the path ahead of me, when I looked up. Holy cow. The stars were the most amazing I had ever seen them. They covered the sky, infinitely more than I had ever seen and more vivid, too. It was so beautifully breathtaking. The rest of my walk "home" I seemed to be in a drunken stupor, because I kept trying to stare up at the sky and walk at the same time - not so simple.

I took a really quick bucket bath under the stars and locked myself in my future home. I became accustomed to the song of the crickets because my house had a bunch of them. It was hot that first night and I couldn't seem to cool down. I knew I should have gotten my hair wet... 

I left the following morning at 7:30 after taking another bucket bath and packing my bags for the day. So, I met the entire village that day. We walked around all over the place multiple times. I saw the CSPS and met the 2nd in command, I met the Prefet and saw his house and bureau, I met the surveillant (he takes care of discipline at school) who lives next door to my homologue; my homologue lives about a 60 second walk from the school. 

It is very important to say hello to people in this culture. Even if you are passing by and don't have time to stop and chat, you need to say hello briefly. If you don't, the person will think you're mean and/or will be offended and then the next time may not talk to you. It's so important for integrating into the community. So, even if I feel completely awkward and uncomfortable and weird, I should at least say hello, because then everyone will be happy. 

Oh, I also had to sit through a long meeting to welcome the new econome (bursar). Then I had to sit through a somewhat painful lunch listening to three men try to convince me to marry one or two of them. "It's not possible", I said, "I already have a husband." 
"Is he BurkinabÈ?"
"No."
"Well then you need a BurkinabÈ husband."
"Nope, no I don't." 
"Have you ever heard of polygamy?" "Yes, but it's not for me. One is enough. Just the two of us."
"Well after a year, I'll call up your husband and say you're finished and I have your heart in my hand" (this was said in English). 
"Nope, not possible." 
"Well, don't you want to marry him? He's handsome."
"Doesn't he already have a wife?"
"No."

Then I shook my left hand indicating that he had a ring on his finger and they all laughed. Men! Ridiculous! I guess this is something I have to get used to, but I'm already sick of it after one shot. I've heard some stories about how other women deal with it here. One asked if he knew English. And that no one speaks it in the States, so you have to learn it or you can't go. Another says that her father wants something like twelve goats, five cows, three donkeys, etc. etc. from the man who wants to marry his daughter and that gets a laugh and gets people to stop asking . . . Ideas, ideas.

That night I ate dinner again with my homologue and this time he said since he had cooked the previous night (yeah he "cooked"), that I had to cook tonight. O . . . K. So I boiled spaghetti. Then he gave me the ingredients to make the sauce. I started by adding onions and green peppers with some light seasoning to fish oil from sardines. Then I added two more cans of sardines including their oil, a chunk of tomato paste, and a small maggi cube (basically chicken bouillion). I was worried about how this was going to taste. And again was pleasantly surprised to find it tasted good. And I got to finish it the following morning for breakfast - yum.

The following morning I saw where the mayor works and briefly experienced the marche. I sat down for a bit with a group of men including the chief for my baptism. A baptism here, at least in my case, is when you are given a name. My ride came early and while we were sitting there and I was sitting in a sea of sounds and speaking that I didn't understand. So a name was said and I thought, is that it? Then my homologue spoke it loudly in each ear and then the president of the APE rubbed my head. Gnide. (Pronounced Neenday) It's Jula and means third young lady or third daughter, because I'm the third volunteer they've had at this village. Sweet, so I have a name. They called me it a few times and scolded me in a nice way for not responding - sheesh, lol, I just learned it and I'm not used to it yet!

I spend the rest of the day in a nearby city about 25K away. It's a bigger city and I plan on biking there every week to get veggies and such from the marche. I stayed with a current PCV there and met a married couple that had also been serving for a year at this point. The next day I met Leah's mango ladies and sat with them a bit after having a bike tour of the city and key places: post office, marche, boutique, quincaillerie (hardware store), internet cafes. I helped cut up some dried mangos and enjoyed time with these women who were very sweet and welcoming. They didn't want to call me by my new name and liked Stephanie better. That works for me. They let me try some of the dried mango - delicious! Here they don't add unnecessary sugar to things that are already sweet, so it was great. Then they sent me away with a big bag filled with cut up dried mango. So nice!

I traveled to Bobo with another volunteer and spend the night there. Went to Ouaga the next day. I opted to try and bike to the PC house instead of taking taxis. There were some really nice men who helped me along my way when I asked them directions. One man at the bus station led me and my bike out of the station and turned onto the next street where he and another man there helped give me directions to a main street I needed to find. Then I got to the street they led me to and talked to two more men who helped me. I managed to maneuver my way to the street I was trying to find and thought it was right. I was unsure, but finally I saw a bizarre landmark we were told about, a certain statue, and was so happy. I knew I could find the house from there and I was right! Score one for me. :)

I was one of the last to arrive at the PC house because most of my fellow PCT's arrived the day before. One of them told me that the energy level went up about 50% when I got there. That was very sweet. I enjoyed the next day relaxing and staying in an American bubble of comfort. The house was filled with books we could borrow, electricity, wireless internet, and fellow American PCT's and PCV's. Then that evening, an APCD and his wife who both served in the PC invited us into their home for Mexican dinner ? delicious; heaven. We had mango salsa, meat, guacamole, chips, beans and corn . . . so good. Then we biked to Marina Market the next morning to experience an actual super market in Burkina set up like a store in the states - the first I've seen of it's kind. I bought cheese and it was totally worth it. And I bought ice cream. I wouldn't buy the ice cream again, because I'm cheap . . . Then I hopped on a bus back home that afternoon, was crammed into the corner sitting with someone else's suitcase under me for the first half of the ride. I got on the bus after much confusion and frustration, I was a bit tired and definitely hot, so I decided to buy a coke that was somewhat cold or at the very least cool. I took a sip of it and felt like I should be in a coke commercial, because I was content!

Until next time. :)