A looooooong overdue update

Ha....it makes me laugh that in an entry that I wrote for my blog on October 27 (and finally posted today, December 14), I had written that I would really try to update my blog more often. It's been a month and a half since that entry, and there has been no new post. I think I wrote a couple big emails that made me feel as if I had basically written a blog update. In fact, I was planning on later copying and pasting some of the parts from those emails to actually make a blog entry with stuff I had already written. But I was too lazy for even THAT! I consume myself on the Internet far too much with the latest news about the presidential campaign, the meaningless power rankings of the NFL on 3 different websites, and I also do try to post pictures and keep updated on world news (like, crazy Hugo Chavez's ridiculous antics). This basically leaves blog posting as the 6th or 7th item down the list when I go to the Internet. In other words, I never get to it. So here is a much awaited update from me! (Plus the other two previous updates which i nevert put online - scroll down to read them)

It had been a tough month and a half. Personally, I am doing well, in good health (which IS a big thing here), excited for my upcoming trip to Egypt, and currently enjoying an excellent Franklin Roosevelt biography. Professionally though, I had been struggling: problems at school, both with students and with my school's administration, and a few events that occurred in Boke that were less than enjoyable for me. Fortunately though, things finally seem to be picking up. But People always want bad news first, so I guess I'll get that out of the way.

First, the students. I suppose, in a nutshell, my students seem much less well behaved and less motivated than they did last year. I'm not sure what has brought about this change in their attitudes, but it made the past few weeks of teaching very difficult. I guess it began when I gave my first test, and discovered that far too many students had failed. I didn't know if I wasn't teaching the subject matter well enough, or if my students were simply disinterested. I tried to change my teaching style a bit, give the students more exercise and chances to practice, giving them higher marks on their homework in an attempt to boost their confidence about their English skills and therefore increase their participation and hopefully their understanding. There were no discernible results the first couple weeks, and so I immediately became discouraged. I left site in mid November to visit Jen and spend thanksgiving in Conakry with my moral low and lacking much motivation. I decided to postpone evening review sessions discouraged about the effort students were putting into my class. If my students weren't trying in class, why would they try in evening sessions?

It all came to a head when on a particularly stressful week, my students, unwilling to arrive on time and be quiet, angered me to such a degree that I yelled at them, “I know English. I have a job. I went to university. And I am three thousand miles from home. This class is not for me, it is to help you. But if you don't want to put in the effort to learn, to arrive on time, and to show some respect for the teacher, I no longer want to put in the effort to teach you.”

I turned around walked out of the class.

Moreover, last year, when I had any problems, I could easily call Jen at any time of day to vent, or also call home to release my frustration and through the words of wisdom of my parents, get some renewed motivation. This year though, Jen had been moved to a site without cell phone service, and though she had some coverage in her old house, she switched houses to one without (although her new house is AMAZING!), making communication more difficult. International communication seemed to be no better, as a little more than a month passed without being able to receive a call from the US, and calls from Colombia were having as much difficulty coming through.

At school too, I was having difficulties with one of my school's staff members. He seemed to constantly be interrupting my class in one way or another, largely through punishments being handed out to students which would then be carried out during my class. (I don't mean corporal punishment, I have actually only seen that one time, and it was not on one of my students, but instead on a younger middle school student. Nonetheless, seeing the powerless kid being smacked repeatedly by an administrator so much bigger than he was disgusted me. I simply saw it as an abuse of power. I still fail to see the point of corporal punishment. Maybe someday I will be enlightened as to its virtues. Doubtful). The punishments that really began to anger me were not the physical ones, but instead were the times that the staff member would pull students out of my class to do meaningless yard work instead of being able to come to my English class. I asked a couple of times that these detentions be carried out not during my English class, but instead after school.

The last time this happened, it was due to one student shouting at a referee and at parents during a soccer match. Because of this one student, all of the 12th grade was punished, forced to do yard work, though on a day when I was not teaching. Several students did not attend the detention however, including one of my best students and good friend outside the classroom. The reason he did not attend the yard cleaning brought on by one student's poor behavior? He was at home studying for his chemistry test that was to take place the following day. This is the same kid who quit his soccer team this year (unheard of!) so that he would have enough time to study a several hours every night. His goal is to be first in his class. This kid is a good kid. And now he was being taken out of my English class by my colleague so that he could spend two hours picking up sticks. I was furious. I marched into the office, and asked why the students were being punished during my class. I was told the story of the unruly student at the game. “Can they not be punished after school, or at the very least after my class?”, I asked? No, I was told. I would not take no for an answer, and insisted that English class was more important than teaching a lesson to kids who didn't even attend the soccer game where the shouting match took place. I believe the staff member finally just wanted to get rid of me, so he said, “Fine, take them, they are your students, but they should be punished.” He was not happy, but I felt like I had won a small victory. Unfortunately though, since that day when I challenged his authority, the administrator hasn't done so much as smile or even look at me when he greets me. It had become an uncomfortable situation.

The worst part of the week I won’t really go into detail on my blog – but basically, it involves a beating that I witnessed in front of my house (which I think, or I hope, doesn’t happen too regularly), and I felt powerless to do anything about it. I think the worst part of it was how some of the people around me laughed at the sight of this beating, rather than rushing to help the person. I myself wanted to run and do something, but one of my students warned me to stay put, lest I also be overcome by the large, violent group which had formed across the street.

I began wondering to myself, “What am I still doing here?” I knew the answer – I still liked Guinea, I wanted to continue living abroad for some time, I did very much enjoy teaching the handful of excellent students (Kadiatou, Odia, Mamadou, Djoubairou, Souleymane, Aminata and some others) from my classes, I wanted to continue learning French, and I was committed to finishing my Peace Corps service. But it was still difficult to convince myself that that was enough to stay here. I suppose however that I never seriously considered quitting. I enjoyed what I was doing too much (difficulties aside) and, at any rate, Jen is here in Guinea, so I'm definitely not going home! Yet I had a very difficult time regaining motivation, and seemed to spend from sunrise until sunset (and beyond) dreading going to school and could only think about how soon I could finish my service. It was a tough couple of weeks, and what I decided was that I needed to get away from my site and recharge my batteries.

I left for Labe last week, traveling for 24 hours to visit Jen for a couple days. The trip was exactly what I needed. I felt as if my frustrations of the previous month had been washed away. I was able to return to Conakry and watch a steelers game, and although they lost, it also helped to erase my negative feelings about my work in Boke. Moreover, my APCD then decided to come to visit me in Boke for a couple days, talk to my school administrators, and sit in during my classes. After just one day of his visit and him talking to my administrators, I feel so much better already. My students also seem to be doing much better, I think maybe my change in my teaching methods is showing a its first results. We’ll see after I give my kids a test next week. But I do feel about 30 times better about my life than I did last week. We’ll see how long this lasts, but I feel that I definitely have made it past the worst week ever (as far as Peace Corps related things are concerned) – nowhere to go but up from here! It seems that the trip to Labe and Mohamed’s visit was just the treatment I needed.

So yeah – that’s the bad news, I suppose. The good news is: A) I had a great week of teaching this week. B) Christmas is just around the corner, and I even have some presents picked out for people, C) Jen and I leave for Egypt to meet up w/ Madre and Pipe in just 2 weeks!

Also, my canoe is finally finished!! I was able to get some money for an old digital camera that I had lying around the house. With the money I received, Thierno and I (mostly Thierno) painted the canoe and are getting it ready to finally put it in the water. I had been hoping to do this by October - I am now two months behind schedule, but at least it’s finally going to be put in the water. This means I can finally go finishing with my palm leaf fishing stick. I still don’t have much hope for catching anything worth taking back to the house. If I’m lucky, I will at the very least avoid getting my hook cause in the muddy banks of the river.

I also decorated my house for Christmas and have been listening to some Christmas tunes. It’s a little hard to get in the whole Christmas spirit in a 90% muslim country, where the weather is 90 degrees with a 100% humidity, but I sure am trying. I posted pictures of my decorated house on my Flickr account (whose link you will see on the right).

Bits and Pieces from letters to Fill in my missing blog updates

- ON GETTING A CAT FOR THREE DAYS -

Everything is indeed going splendid(ish) in Africa. Currently, mybiggest problem are my allergies. The seasons are changing from rainyseason to dry season, which means I sneeze an average of 134 times aday. That's probably a conservative estimate. Anyway, my allergiesalso weren't helped by the fact that I decided to get a cat last week. See, I have this mouse problem in my house. The live in the ceiling,and at night I can hear them dancing around and having little races,and scratching at the wood to be able to move their party down into myroom. Guinean mouse traps are hardly functioning, and so I figuredthe easiest thing to do to get rid of the mice was to get a cat. Now,I knew I had ridiculous allergies to cats. I thought,however, that maybe I wasn't allergic to kittens, and that if I was,it would quickly go away as I became accustomed to having the cataround. Ha. Boy was I wrong. The kitten was cute and adorable andtiny and black and white. And he made my life miserable. My eyesitched non-stop, I sneezed 10 times more, my throat scratched, and Iwas just generally unable to breathe. On top of that, I had never hada cat before (as you well know, dogs are the fashionable pet to haveat the Forero residence), so I had no idea what to do for it. Do Ibathe it? How do I potty train it? What does a cat do? How do I keepit from getting pregnant? Hell, how do I even know if its a girl cator a boy cat? Yeah, I knew none of these answers. I called my mom inColombia, desperate to find out how to care for a cat, telling her toresearch everything on the Internet about cat-care. Four days laterhowever, by the time my mom called me back with all the info, I hadalready named the cat Pollen (in honor of my seasonal allergies) andhad also already decided to return the cat to the student who found itfor me. Luckily, his sister in law was also looking for a cat to takecare of her cat problem. I'm sure he'll be just as happy there.

- ON THANKSGIVING DINNER -

There were four (or three?) turkeys at Thanksgiving!! And two pigs!! It was amazing. We celebrated at my country directors house, stuffing our faces with more good food than I've eaten since arriving back in Guinea. My birthday, which fell a day before Thanksgiving, was also great - I got to eat numerous cakes and drink a couple mojitos. Anyway - more about the thanksgiving food...I know in the states it doesn't sound that terribly exciting, but making cranberry sauce from dried cranberries, pumpkin pie from Guinean squash, and pistachio pudding from cream that does not whip is just an amazing feat. We weren't able to use the barbecue put unfortunately, but that too is coming along nicely and will hopefully be done by thanksgiving.

- ON BAD STUDENTS SAPPING MY MOTIVATION LAST MONTH -

As far as my work, school is going well – I’m just kinda trudging through the weeks. Teaching, while still enjoyable, is not as fun as last year. Perhaps its because last year, I saw myself teaching English for two years, thereby having an adequate amount of time to teach my students a decent amount of English. This time however, I am likely only going to be here in Boke for one year, and I worry that I won’t have anywhere near enough time to teach these kids any English that will stay in their heads. It wouldn’t be so bad if my kids also realized this, and therefore came to class on time, well behaved, and ready to learn English. That is not the case however. They arrive late, leave early, use cell phones in class, and except for maybe 15 or 20 (out of about 210) students, they care very little about actually learning the language and practicing on their own. This led me to give my kids a speech the other day. “I am not a magician,” I told them. “I cannot magically make you learn English. If you want to learn English, you have to pay attention in class, show up on time, do you work, and study at home. English class is not a time to receive phone calls or send text messages. I do not want you to come to my class late any more, and if you do come late, then I will keep you after school or as long as I need to so that you understand that if you waste my time, I will waste yours. Either that or I will begin giving you homework every night. And if you don’t want to learn English – if you just want to sleep or talk in class, I don’t care. I speak English; this class is not for me. But if you do sleep or talk in class, I will just give you zeros. So understand this – if you don’t want to learn English, get out of my class. Go home.” I was furious at them. I think that may have had some effect on them however. My students were silent as the grave for the rest of that day. I really do enjoy teaching those kids that are motivated. But it’s the majority of those non-motivated kids that are now also beginning to sap my motivation for teaching this year. I have decided this: I am going to teach to the kids who want to learn English and will not be slowed down by those who do not want to. I look forward to starting my evening classes, which will be more relaxed, during a cooler part of the day, and with more fun activities with the motivated students who are inevitably the ones who come to evening sessions.

Entry that was written on Oct. 27

Dear Faithful Readers (all 2 of you, if I’m lucky),

I must apologize. I used to really enjoy updating my blog – and I used to blame my lack of regular updates on not having a laptop at site so that I could prewrite my blog entries before arriving at the slow and uncooperative computers of the internet café. I brought a laptop back to Guinea – but it turns out that since my new house does not have electricity, I may as well have just waited to update my blog at the internet an hour away. Unfortunately, the internet in Kamsar also stopped working, and when I went to Conakry, I was so consumed by watching South Park episodes and reading NFL and World Cup qualifying news on the free internet, that I put off updating my blog until I realized it was time to come back to Boke. So it’s been what, a month without an update on my life? I always say I'm going to REALLY try to update it. We'll see how it goes. Now, enough rambling, lets get to the actual entry.

Oh, it’s been a long month – let’s see, last you heard from me, I had moved into my new house perhaps? Or maybe not? Was I still waiting for my new house? Well, faithful reader, you’ll be pleased to know that I have in fact finally moved into a house. After 8 weeks of living in Peace Corps offices, a hotel in Labe, and Jen’s house, I finally have a place to call my own. I actually like it quite a bit – it’s much closer to my school, with a mostly nice family, and is made up of four smallish (but perfect for one person) rooms – my bedroom, living room, kitchen, and a random storage room. Unfortunately, the house has one MAJOR shortcoming: no electricity. Ever. It’s wired for it sure, but in the month that I’ve been living there, how many nights have I had electricity? One. That’s it, one. Not enough to charge my phone regularly, use a laptop, or have light bulbs at night. The sockets and light switches on my house exist simply to taunt me and remind me of the electricity my old house had which made living in hot-as-hell Boke tolerable. So, there is no electricity, and thus, there is no fan. What does that mean? Only that my sleep at night is, at best, interrupted no less than 4 times from waking up, drenched in sweat, and subsequently being forced to hang my bedsheets out to dry every morning. It used to not be so bad a few weeks ago when it rained every night, letting a cool breeze flow through the house that would last until the morning, when on a couple occasions I even had to pull a sheet over me. No, not any more. The rain has basically stopped, and the dry season is taking over, bringing a blanket of stagnant, humid air that hovers over my house twenty four hours a day. It’s unbearable. It really is. I no longer sweat, really. At least it can’t be called sweating, what I do. It is so much more than that. I am basically a human water faucet. Night and day, I am basically drenched in my own ocean of sweat – and have finally decided to give up on trying to dry myself with 10 washcloths I have sitting in all corners of my house. Wiping the sweat from my brow, back, arms, legs, nose, chest – everywhere – was a battle I was nowhere close to winning.

So what does this mean? Well – basically, I’m becoming a little more miserable by the day. I need to figure out some way to take care of this whole fan situation, cause I’m just not sure how many more sleepless nights I can stand.

Not to mention, when it’s not my sweat that is waking me up at night, it’s the rats scrambling and clawing their way across my house, usually in the ceiling, but occasionally winding their way through my bedroom, leaving their little tiny feces pretty much everywhere. I wish I could get a cat – unfortunately, I am so allergic to them. I may soon consider just saying, “To Hell with my allergies” and ask a student to find me a kitten that will in time take care of my mouse problem. I’m not sure if that’s a gamble I want to take. If I don’t get used to having a cat, then it will be my non stop sneezing and itchy eyes that will keep me from having any peaceful sleep.

That’s enough about my night time problems. Basically, pretty soon, I’m going to either get a cat or pay as much as I need to in order to get electricity at my house on a daily basis. I prefer the electricity option. The sound of rats can easily be drowned out by the constant humming of a fan rotating back and forth beside my bed. I pray that option will work. I should probably not get my hopes up.

In other news, school has finally started. The daily downhill migration to my high school of blue, white, and khaki clad students finally resumed on October 22nd. I’m really hoping I will see it beyond January 2008. Another evacuation is the last thing I need. Despite my constant worries about not staying in Guinea till the end of my service, the school year started without any problems (a big relief) and in fact, it looks like all the teachers are showing up (somewhat) regularly to teach this year. Certainly, the start of the academic year is better this year than last. But as one of my students reminded me, the school year in Guinea is like a horse race. It doesn’t really matter how it starts – it’s how it ends that counts.

Beside that, what else has been going on in Guinea? (My little section of it at least.) Jen came a few weeks ago and spent a little over a week with me, which was a great time – especially on Ramadan when I got to wear my big purple boubou (must see picture here) and eat chicken and meat in the same day! Moreover, Jen and I had made 4 loaves of banana bread to deliver to all the families we were visiting that day. This essentially granted us rock star status throughout the course of the day – as it turns out that Guineans LOVE banana bread. Who knew? They don’t like most other things that aren’t rice and sauce – so it was a big gamble that fortunately paid off. Ian and Beth also visited for a bit, as did a posse of Burkina Faso volunteers, so Boke was rather full of “fote” activity for a few days.

Well – the electricity went out a while back (I’m writing in the Peace Corps house) and my battery is wanting to die on me. So I’m done with this blog entry. Hopefully, faithful reader, the next time you come back I will be feeling much better about my sleeping situation. Tonight’s rat free sleep in the Boke house should help reach that goal. Till next time, oo’o.

There's always a way to get into the airport...

Well, Jen finally arrived in Guinea! And her arrival provided me my first chance to really use Susu since returning to Guinea. See - we had arrived at the Conakry airport about 30 minutes before the Air France flight from Paris arrived. We had brought a banner made by Annaliese, the health APCD, which read, in French, "Welcome Back to Peace Corps Guinea"and a camera to take a picture of Jen, loaded with bags and duty free liquor, as she walked through the immigration line. Instead, to quote Jen's blog - this is what really happened that night: "I got off the plane all smiles, ready to greet Camilo, Jan and Ousmane. My smile quickly faded as I realized that no one was there to greet me!"



Yeah - our plan for a little welcome party inside the airport were quickly derailed when the airport security guards, doing a rather selective job of letting people in, decided to deny us entry into the luggage pick up area. Even Ousmane, our Safety and Security officer, was unable to convince the guards to let us in, as his contact inside the airport had apparently been reassigned to another part of the country. Maybe he's now a security guard at the red dirt road that is marked on a map as the Boke Airport.



I even had JanRose flirt with the security guards in a last ditch effort to get into the luggage claim area. That, shockingly, did not work. JanRose, you see, is usually able to get anything she wants (and even things she doesn't ask for), out of men in Guinea. Just a few weeks ago in Boke, it was three cans of good beer. Last year, it was a free cell phone. I don't know how she does it, but I knew she was my last best hope. But, alas, her flirting got nothing. So then I thought I would give it a shot - and plead to one security guard's kind nature (and more so to his empty wallet.) So I pulled out all the susu I know, and maybe a bill or two (which I never do) and for another 2 excruciating minutes of trying to speak susu I was able to go help Jen with her 4 suitcases and backpack and duty free purchases. Despite having paid a little, which I always refuse to do when the soldiers ask us for money at blockades along the road, I was glad to have been able to go into the airport, especially once I saw the numerous "HEAVY" tags that were clipped onto Jen's bags. (It may have been just one, but they all felt like they should say "HEAVY"). But so yeah, Jen's back, which is exciting news, and we'll be leaving for Timbi (Jen's new site) tomorrow or the day after. Next week I'll resume my summer classes.



Also back, the NFL and Steve's Football Sundays! Oh, I enjoyed a huge bowl of that damn good spaghetti, and enjoyed even more watching a few football game and (via the scoreboard on the bottom of the screen) the Steelers destroy the Browns in the season opener. Though it was only 3 volunteers at the Steve's house, compared to the 10 (at least) that are usually there, it was great to resume another Peace Corps Guinea tradition - it helps to make it feel like we're back to stay.

Calling upon a devil to find an elusive thief.

So a week and a half ago, more or less, was when the mysterious thief walked into our house and picked up Jan’s phone, bag, and camera which were laying next to her as she slept. The two prime suspects were the guard, and even more so, the electrician who had arrived drunk to fix our house’s solar panels. The police were unable to get a confession out of either one of them, and neither were they able to capture the actual thief. Nonetheless, the guard’s family was adamant about proving his innocence. Yet without the real thief in custody, and no evidence to prove his innocence (the opposite of guilty until proven innocent seems to be the norm here), it would be almost impossible to prove his innocence. Unless, of course, a marabout were to find the real thief, or at least prove that the guard was not the one who took the valuables.

So what is a marabout? In short, a witch doctor. Not only can he cast spells to protect you, or suggest charms to keep out the devils, he can also find thieves using two young men and a wooden board. Let me explain.

I was sitting at Thierno’s house one sunny day last week, making bouille (essentially rice pudding) and tea. All of a sudden, I see the Peace Corps car racing toward Thierno’s house. I was rather confused, as the car never came to find me at my student’s house, and also became worried, as the high speed of the car must have signaled the urgency of the message that I assumed needed to be delivered to me. “Oh my God, we are getting evacuated!” was the first thought that raced through my mind. Leave it to going through one evacuation to make you paranoid for the rest of your life at the sight of an unexpected Peace Corps vehicle.

When Bella, the driver, stopped the car, he was wearing his usual big smile as he rolled down the window. This made me relax, only a little. “What’s going on?” I asked. “They’re going to find the thief using the Marabout. Yama tried to call you, but your phone isn’t working.” he replied. (Turns out I gave everyone an incorrect phone number, from my family, to Peace Corps staff and volunteers, to my school administrators.) “Oh thank God,” I said out loud. We weren’t getting evacuated. Now, excited at the prospect of seeing a marabout do his magic, Thierno and I jumped into the Land Cruiser. “Allons-y!”

When we arrived at the marabout’s house – both suspects and a number of other people were sitting there, chatting excitedly about the spectacle we were about to see. The only problem was that the marabout wanted 500,000 Guinean francs for his services (a little over a hundred dollars), yet the family only had about 50,000 to give him. This of course, held things up as the marabout and the family argued about a fair price, in a fast and angry Susu that I certainly could not understand. Finally, roughly an hour later, they settled on 70,000 francs, and the marabout said he would make the thief pay the rest.

Then the excitement began. The marabout plucked two young men in their twenties from the crowd. They appeared to have just come home from work, but had stopped by to see why the crowd had formed. The marabout grabbed their heads and placed them together. Then he bent them over, so that both men were stading up, but with their upper bodies angled down to the ground. Next, he handed them the wooden board, and placed them in such a way that that their arms were intertwined as they held onto the top of the board, with their heads practically touching the top of the wood. Then they began to spin, as the marabout began to chant in Susu. He repeated his rhythmic chants again and again, as I watched in awe and amusement , trying at the same time, to suppress a laugh at the site of the two men spinning around in circles time and time again.
I had no idea what was being chanted, so I turned to Thierno and asked him to translate. “He’s calling upon Ginamusa, a devil, to come and show him who the real thief is,” he explained.

The men stopped spinning. Then, each of the suspects stood before the two men. The marabout asked them to explain to the men and the board why each one was not the thief. The electrician went first, proclaiming his innocence before the marabout and the crowd of 30 or so people. “If he is not the crook, then push him aside,” the marabout commanded. “If he is, the board shall be raised and it will strike him on the head.” The men began to spin again, even faster this time, and using all their strength, it appeared, held on to the board as it went this way and that, and hovered in midair, before finally moving over to the electrician and pushing him aside as he also scrambled to get away from the board. Apparently, the electrician was not the thief. The guard went next, and the scene repeated itself, with the men struggling against the board until finally the board pushed aside the second man. Neither man, it seemed, had stolen the goods – at least not according to the marabout and Ginamusa and the 70,000 francs that had been paid for the service. (I clearly remained skeptical of the whole thing.)

So there I was, unsure whether or not to believe that this ever worked, but still with the knowledge that whoever the thief was, he was still running around somewhere in Boke – having outsmarted or escaped the searching arms of Ginamusa the devil.

Had the thief been caught, and been hit on the head by the wooden board, everyone would have immediately jumped on the thief and begun hitting him, I learned. That would have to wait for another day. In the meantime, I was eager to return to the rice pudding (it was 4 PM by this time and we had not eaten lunch) and discuss with Thierno the plausibility of finding the thief using this method.

So that was definitely the excitement for my week. Otherwise, everything is going well. My housing situation hasn’t still been resolved, and I’m still living out of my suitcases in the Peace Corps house in Boke. I’m really crossing my fingers that the house is ready soon.

I have also started teaching my summer English courses, which, two days into them, are going very well. I’m trying a lot of new teaching techniques I didn’t try last year, but which I would like to implement into my courses this year. Mostly, they’re changes in the amount of material covered and how I present the material. I’m trying to get the students caught up as quickly as possible and learning as much practical English as they can. So I am prewriting my lessons on flipchart paper, and putting in extra vocabulary and grammar in each lesson. Mostly, the lessons this year are being tailored to the students who WANT to learn English, in the hope that I can then use those students (especially those I am teaching in the summer courses), to help the other students in the class who don’t necessarily want to learn English but need to in order to pass their exams. In other words, it boils down to more information (vocabulary, grammar, etc) and some practice in class while I teach, while more serious application and practice will happen in some group work during class and especially during my evening review sessions.

We’ll see how it works. That’s the great thing about my summer classes – it’s like a preseason game, where I can experiment with things I wouldn’t normally try when it counts, in the hope that I’ll find those teaching tricks that will help me be that much more successful in class this second time around.

Also – you’d think I would have learned my lesson before. Rivers and I just don’t get along. But guess what, it turns out there’s a couple small rivers in Boke where I can actually have fun without a fear of drowning! I discovered them when a couple students decided they would take me swimming this weekend. Of course, one river’s activities included walking 15 yards upstream, jumping in, and swimming quickly to the other side before the water carried you away while the other required you to climb a tree in order to jump into the water. Naturally, with my history of rivers, it took me a good 10 minutes to build up the courage to do either of these things, but once I did it, it was a great time. Especially with as hot and humid as the weather has been lately.

Also - I met a baby that they call Fote. ha! You'll see his photo - he's not exactly white, but it was good to know I'm not the only fote in town - I may just take him home with me.

Finally, at the end of my extra long post today – a bit on food. The best food, in fact, that I think I have had in Guinea. Maybe it’s a tie with the tropical fruit salad my host mom used to make me in Forecariah. At any rate, it was a ridiculously delicious dish with real meat, which I thoroughly enjoyed. It was essentially vermicelli noodles, with an onion and meat sauce, topped with hardboiled eggs which had been covered in ground meat and fried, I think. It was delicious. I know I’ve said it three times – but it deserves so much praise, that I think I will post its photo below.

That is finally all for today! Man, I practically wrote a book. Oo’o.

Cogiendo al Ladron con la ayuda de un Diablo

Ya hace mas o menos una semana y media que se nos metió un ladrón a la casa, y cogió el celular, la cámara, y el morral de Jan de su lado mientras ella dormía. Los dos primeros señalados como sospechosos (que ahora estaban pasando una no muy divertida estadía en la cárcel) eran el celador de turno esa noche, y mas aun, el electricista que llego ese día, ebrio, para arreglar la corriente solar que tenemos en la casa. Sin embargo, la policía no logro sacar una confesión de ninguno de los dos, y tampoco pudieron encontrar a otra persona que pudiera haber robado los objetos. En todo caso, la familia del celador quería demostrar que el no había sido el ladrón. El problema era que, sin el verdadero ladrón en la cárcel, no tenían ninguna prueba de que no había sido el guardia, lo que haría casi imposible la tarea de comprobar su inocencia. A menos de que un marabout pudiera señalar al verdadero ladrón y así demostrar con toda certeza que el celador no era ningún criminal.

Entonces, que es un marabout? Es, más o menos, un hechicero. Es un mago, pero no de los que sacan conejos de un sombrero, palomas de la chaqueta, y flores de la nada, sino de los que te puede dar talismanes para protegerte de los diablos, ponerte un hechizo (para hacerte bien o mal), pero que también puede, supuestamente, encontrar ladrones usando dos muchachos y una tabla de madera. Ya les explico.

Yo estaba sentado afuera en la casa de Thierno (alumno mio), bajo el fuerte sol de Africa, preparando te y lo que acá se llama bouille (pronunciado bui y que es mas o menos arroz con leche). De repente, veo el carro de Cuerpos de Paz viniendo a toda hacia la casa de Thierno. Estaba mas bien confundido, porque en mi mente, la velocidad tan tremenda del carro me señalaba que era un mensaje muy urgente el que los Cuerpos de Paz me tenían que dar. “Juemadre, nos van a evacuar otra vez,” alcancé a pensar, ya que después de haber sido evacuado una vez, vivo con paranoia de que no voy a lograr completar mis dos años acá en Guinea esta segunda vez, sobre todo al ver llegar un inesperado carro de Cuerpos de Paz.

Cuando Bela, el conductor, paro el carro, el traía su sonrisa grande de siempre. Al ver su cara, logre calmarme, pero solo un poco. “Que pasa?” le pregunte. “Van a coger el ladrón usando el marabout. Yama intento llamarte, pero tu numero no sirve,” me dijo él. (Resulta que yo le había dado un numero equivocado a todo el mundo, desde mis papas a los demás voluntarios, la administración de Cuerpos de Paz, y los directores de mi colegio.) “Ay, gracias a Dios. Yo pensé que nos iban a evacuar!” dije con alivio. Ahora si, con emoción de ver esta “magia negra” que nunca había visto, Thierno y yo nos metimos de una al Land Cruiser. “Allons-y!”

Cuando llegamos donde el marabout, ambos sospechosos y un gran numero de personas ya estaban sentados ahí, hablando de lo que estaban a punto de ver en una voz baja pero emocionada. El único problema era que el marabout quería unos 500,000 francos (un poco mas de 200,000 pesos) por su trabajo, pero la familia no tenia sino unos 50,000 francos (mas o menos 20,000 pesos) para pagarle. Esto, por supuesto, demoro todo mientras el Marabout y la familia discutían y le hacían rebajas (de a poquito) al precio de los servicios del marabout, hablando en un Susu fuerte y demasiado rápido para que yo entendiera. Mas o menos una hora mas tarde, llegaron a un acuerdo. El marabout aceptaría 70,000 francos de la familia, y el ladrón, al ser capturado, daría la suma de 430,000 francos.

Entonces comenzó el espectáculo. El marabout cogio a dos muchachos, de unos veinte años cada uno, que parecían haber recién llegado del trabajo. Les cogio la cabeza, juntándolos de la frente, y los hizo agachar hasta que el torso de cada uno estaba mas a menos paralelo con la tierra. Luego, les entrego la tabla de madera, y los situó de tal manera que sus brazos estaban en un enredo total, cogiendo por arriba la tabla con sus frentes tocando la madera. En ese instante los muchachos comenzaron a dar vueltas y mas vueltas mientras el marabout recitaba sus hechizos en Susu. Mientras el marabout se hablaba a si mismo en voz alta, cada vez mas y mas rápidamente, yo seguía mirando la escena de cerca, haciendo todo lo posible para no reír.
Como yo no tenia ni idea que decía el marabout, le pedí a Thierno que por favor tradujera, de Susu a Frances. “Esta llamando a Ginamusa, un diablo, para que venga y le muestre el verdadero ladrón,” él me explico.

Los hombres pararon de dar vueltas. En seguida, los dos posibles ladrones se pararon al frente de los hombres con la tabla. El marabout les pidio que explicaran por que cada uno no habia sido el ladron. El electricista hablo primero, proclamando que el no habia sido el ladron al frente de las 30 personas que estabamos ahí. “Si no es el ladron, empujenlo a un lado. Si lo es, la madera se levantara y le pegara en la cabeza,” declaro el marabout. Los hombres comenzaron de nuevo a dar vueltas, aun mas rápido esta vez, con toda su fuerza luchando contra el movimiento de la madera, que medio se levantaba, iba de un lado al otro, y se bajaba de nuevo, antes de finalmente moverse hacia el sospechoso y empujarlo a un lado. Aparentemente no había sido el ladrón. El celador lo siguió, y se repitió la escena, los hombres de nuevo dejándose arrastrar por la tabla hasta que esta se dirigió al celador, y a el también lo empujo hacia la casa. Parecía que ninguno de los dos hombres había robado el celular y la cámara, por los menos según el marabout, el diablo Ginamusa, y los 70,000 francos que se habían requerido para el evento.

Si la tabla hubiera cogido al ladrón, pegándole en la cabeza, todos los demás de inmediato se hubieran lanzado sobre el ladrón para entonces ellos también pegarle mil veces, me contaron. Eso tendría que suceder otro día, ya que apenas termino el marabout, cogieron al celador y electricista y los llevaron juntos de nuevo para la cárcel, mientras yo regrese con Thierno a la casa para comer el bouille que habíamos dejado cocinando sobre el carbón una hora y media antes.

Bueno - me perdonan errores de ortografia, gramatica, y tildes, pero entre ingles, susu, espanol, y frances, ya ni se que idioma es el que hablo. Inglfranespasu sera, tal vez.

A Fun Day to be a Peace Corps Volunteer in Boke (That title is chock full of sarcasm)

So this post was originally meant to be about the differences between my first time in the Peace Corps and my second time around, coming back to the same town after a six month absence. That will come later. Today was just such an eventful day that I must write about it while it’s all still fresh. I mean, we got robbed and I got hit by a motorcycle!

Interested now? Read on.

First a little context. Jan and I are currently staying in the Peace Corps house in Boke, while our houses are getting their finishing touches (or in my case it’s more like halfway done – I’m guessing at least 3 weeks before I can move in. More on that at some point in the future.) Anyway, the Peace Corps house/office is inside a walled compound, and we have a guard on duty at all times. Last night, at some point of the night, somebody came into the house, and in a move that required a ton of balls or a crapload of stupidity, this somebody stole Jan’s phone, camera, and backpack, which were literally laying about 6 inches from her as she slept. It wasn’t until this morning, when she woke up, that she realized the disappearance of these objects, which vanished, along with the mystery “voleur” (thief) at some point between midnight and seven A.M. We can’t figure out how this person got in, much less how he (or she, though highly doubtful) managed to sneak in the house, unheard and unseen, and then climb back outside our compound walls (which are covered in nice, sharp, and jagged pieces of metal to prevent, precisely, that sort of climbing over a wall.)

Well, basically, its that action which has in turn dictated everything that happened today at the house, from the police coming to question the guard on duty (and eventually take him down to the station for further questioning and a free night’s stay), to five trips down to the police station, to our regional director, my APCD, and our other guard coming in three times before bed to remind us to close all our doors tonight.

Seeing the police do their detective work (they came two or three times to the house) was its own ordeal, which reminded of a Rocky and Bullwinkle episode (a lot more Bullwinkle, a lot less Rocky). Maybe a new show should be made – CSI: Guinea. It will just have a lot less sophisticated investigation tools and a bad cop/bad cop questioning method as compared to the good cop/bad cop method of the movies.

But basically, we can’t figure out who it is, it’s freaky that this person could come in literally beside us in the middle of the night, and it sucks that Jan is now short a backpack, a cell phone, and a digital camera.

Well, the second event of the day today, happened as I was going to another part of town to watch a student of mine play in a soccer tournament. Again, a little context. First of all, the Guinea-wide sound for announcing that someone is coming behind you on a bike or a motorcycle is this annoying, and rather quiet, mix of a chirping noise/kissing sound. Half the time, you can’t hear it, the other half the time is sounds like the VERY annoying and practically identical sound they use at times to call your attention when they don’t know your name (and sometimes even if they do), so I often ignore it. Second, Guinean car and motorcycle drivers love to go to the side of the road where you are walking. A road can be 20 feet across, but if you’re on the edge, they think that you must be walking where there is good terrain, so of course they have to go over there too. In fairness, I suppose, 20 foot wide roads in good condition are pretty hard to find. Nonetheless, you can rest assured that whatever stretch of road you are on, a car, bike, or motorcycle will eventually want to speed through the 2 square foot area that you are occupying at the same time that you are occupying it.

So today, I’m walking down a hill headed to a student’s house, its pouring out, I have my umbrella out, and the path was pretty rocky and slippery, so I’m looking down at my feet to make sure I don’t trip (my $1.50 market sandals aren’t exactly slip-proof hiking boots). I then hear the chirping/kissing noise, so I know someone is coming behind me on a two wheeled vehicle. Already, I was at the edge of the road, with about 8 feet of road to my right, maybe 10 inches to my left. I assume the person behind me will be passing me to my right, so I quickly move further to my left, so I’m practically walking in the weeds. Next thing I know, I’ve been hit from behind, and I’m lying in the grass as I hear the motorcycle also hit the ground. Turns out this guy wanted to pass me on the 6 inches to my left, rather than on the 8 feet of road to my right, and in doing so, ran into me coming down the hill from behind me. I fell face first, he and his two passengers (a woman and her daughter about 12 years old) fell sideways into the weeds on the moto.

Oh, I was angry. Though of course I was not about to start anything – I didn’t need any more police coming around to question; but seriously, did he have to go through that tiny piece or road to my right side? I first made sure that the little girl and the woman were alright, then, once my quick anger passed I made sure the driver too was alright. He seemed fine, more concerned about his motorcycle than anything else, but at least was polite enough to apologize afterwards and verify that I too was ok once he was certain that nothing had happened to the motorcycle.

For the record, I fell over and got a little wet. But that’s it. I’m quite certain I don’t even have a bruise on the back of my leg from where the motorcycle hit me, and my hands didn’t even scratch when breaking the fall. So really it only really left me with a hilarious story to tell, and maybe a more acute sense of hearing, at least as far as that kissing/chirping noise is concerned. We’ll see. I’ll let you know if I get hit from behind by any more motorcycles. For now though, oo’o.

Back in Boke

Man it was good to go back. I was rereading one of my earlier post, from about 6 months ago, when I wrote: "So I'll be starting over with Peace Corps in June or July, redoing training, and committing to another two years. I have no idea where I'll end up, but I'm really hoping we have some say over where we go."

Well, 6 months ago, I certainly never imagined myself back in Boke this time of year. I had pictured myself getting off a plane in Benin, Cameroon, or Mauritania. But three days ago, there I was, riding in a Peace Corps Guinea car up the hill that overlooks the Rio Nunez, which is one of my favorite views in Guinea. It was great to be back in Boke. I was excited to see my students - to whom, for the most part, i had not even said goodbye when we evacuated, let alone tell them where I was going.

As soon as we arrived and ate, I took off on my bicycle to try and visit two of the students I was closest to, hoping to see everyone I knew in Boke on my ride down. The first person I saw, of course, was Mr. Coumbassa, my principal sitting under the tree in front of the PUP party headquarters, where he always sits after school. Coumbassa is an animated person to begin with, but when he turned around and saw me, "animated" could not begin to describe his excited reaction. The scene of elation repeated itself once I ran into my other two students, Thierno and Djobairo, with whom I could not even carry a conversation for the first 15 minutes, because they kept repeating, "Eehhh, Allah, Mistah has returned. Ehhh, I'm very happy! You know Mistah, I am very happy today."

We were finally able to catch up though, once the excitement over my return wore off, and Thierno and I have started plotting the following things for my second time around in Boke. First, I am definitely raising chickens and roosters, and we're building a pen for them which will be kept at his house. Then, in exchange for taking care of my chickens, I'll split the chickens with his family when I slaughter them. Second, we're planning a multi day pirogue (canoe) trip down the Rio Nunez, possibly to Kanfarande. I've already picked up life vests from the Peace Corps office, so for those who think a river is too much for me, don't worry, I won't sink this time. I'll probably bring another student along, since God knows I can't do half the rowing...a third i think I could handle.

I did finally see my house, and I love it, except for the fact that it has no electricity. This sucks, as I was defintely spoiled by my electricity situation before (it came on at 1 pm and was intermittently on till 7 am about 5-6 days a week!). They're looking into hooking it up with electricity from the house next door, and hopefully we'll be able to install at least one socket so that I can plug in a fan - a near necessity for me in Boke's infernally hot weather.

As far as the house itself, I think it is a little bigger than my old one...this is almost like, a 4 bedroom apartment, with a bathroom just outside. The rooms are all about the same size, but I do think that total, the area is a little bigger. Plus, I love the location. It's halfway between my school and town, and my windows look out onto my favorite part of Boke, the soccer field sized area of palm trees where light filters through the treetops and mist in the mornings, creating almost a personal garden of pamls and sunbeams that I can look out onto when I wake up. Unfortunately, I don't see myself living in that house for at least a month, as the money to finish the work on my house (the bathroom and ceiling), seems to have gone missing. Hopefully, with Yama and Mohammed on the task, the money will be gathered up soon, and my house will be ready by September. In the meantime, I'm living out of the Peace Corps office in Boke, which I'm kinda bummed out about, but oh well, all in due time.

Besides those first three people, I also hadn't really seen that many of my students, at least until yesterday. I had been a little down about that, as I had created this whole image (unrealistic, I know), of everyone in Boke being thrilled to see me, basically having a parade and a "fete" (party) in my honor! haha...no, turns out I'm actually not Brad Pitt and the whole world doesn't care about my every move! Life went on in Boke, and now, I'm just rejoining it, little by little.

But on the whole, it's good to be back. But it's time for lunch, before the car returns to Boke. Hopefully, I'll be able to post some more pictures sometime soon, especially some of my new house! Until then - oo'o!

Return of the King. Kind of...

So, tomorrow I make my triumphant return to Boke. Hence my title for this week. And in my head, I have all these images of me returning to Boke, all my students running up all excited to greet me, a big fete in my honor...yeah, Im sure it won't be like that. But I'm still ridiculously excited to return.

The biggest news so far about my return to Boke is that i won't be living in my same house anymore. Which, I'm a little bummed about but I'm also excited to see my new place. On the one hand, I no longer will have running water (if a trickle of water that requires 15 minutes to fill a bucket can be called that), or electricity nearly as regularly, and I'll be a heck of a climb from the Peace Corps house. That being said, my new house is in my favorite neighborhood of Boke, is way closer to my school (cutting the walk from 30 minutes to about 10 minutes or less), and wont suffer from as many water shortages as I will have my own well. Of course, now I just have to conquer my fear of looking into a well as I pull up water (the wells are so deep!) - add that to the list of pointless, groundless fears I have, such as heights, camels, and horses. Oh, and also, it can only get better as far as having a house that was stiflingly hot. The tin roof, lack of shade, and tall walls surrounding my house did nothing to keep the house cool. Hopefully, this new house will be...less hot.

Otherwise, all has been going well in Guinea. I had forgotten, however, just how much rain falls during the rainy season. I mean, it just has not stopped raining since we've arrived! No wait. It did - for five minutes today. Besides that, the rain has just kept coming and coming and coming. But no more of this refuse to buy an umbrella business that I did last year. I already have my own umbrella, after deciding last years decision not to buy one was just a foolish one that left me Smurf colored as my indigo clothing released its blue dye on me every time it rained.

Ian is arriving soon, and we'll be off to get him at the airport at 3 in the morning! So I leave you, reader, with this.

I know I'm back in Guinea when:
- Little kids are scared of me but mom's don't care if I purposely try to frighten them with my "scary" white skin.
- A man who claims to know someone I know walks with me for 10 minutes before finally asking me for 50,000 francs to buy gas for his car.
- I buy cheese at the grocery store, and eat it all at once, very much like I would a candy bar, as I know I won't be seeing any cheese for a month.
- I wear the same pants for 6 days in a row - only to rinse them in water so I can wear them another week.
-In addition to a wallet and a cell phone I also regularly carry on me a headlamp.
- We go to the restaurant, order 4 pizzas and two chickens, and are informed there are only three fish and two half chickens available.

Ok. Off to the airport. OO'O.

Guess who's back. Back again. Guess who's back. Tell a friend.

Wow. I’m back in Guinea. Six months after being hurriedly trucked away from our sites, in the midst of what I at times feared would turn into a civil war, I’m once again sitting in the Volunteer house in Conakry. Things have come back to normal here in Guinea, and from what PC staff tell us, the situation is even improving, however slow or marginal the progress might be.

We’ve only been here about 5 hours at this point. And it’s just now starting to sink in that I’m really back. It’s pouring out. Not that wimpy American rain that leaves you wondering if it will just be too much effort to open an umbrella. It’s an honest to goodness downpour like you only see in Africa in the middle of the rainy season. And the electricity already went out (though of course, being at PC HQ, the generators kicked back in.) But yeah, I’m back. I’ll really believe it tomorrow when I go to the Malinke lady in the morning to buy some eggs that I can mix with tonight’s shawarma to make a delicious shawamelette. And it will sink in some more later in the day when I go to buy some cheke next door. Once I interact a little more with Guineans, pull out my first Susu phrase in six months, venture into the Taoyah market, and wash my clothes by hand again, then I’ll believe I’m really back. Right now, it’s still a little surreal.

There are currently a whopping eight of us in country! That’s half of what will be the total number of volunteers in Guinea for 5 months. Everyone else will be trickling in over the next month and a half or so.

But you can definitely tell Peace Corps Guinea was evacuated a few months back, at least when you look at the volunteer house. The walls are freshly painted, the books are all organized, eighteen hundred trunks no longer line every wall of the house. The house is actually clean! And I mean really clean. The refrigerators are spotless. The mountains of clothes, shoes, and random foods and books in all the rooms have disappeared. And I have a room to myself. So it feels a little empty, but before long it will once again be full of volunteers jockeying for a clean bathroom or an empty bed. That being said, we have all decided that we are going to set some sort of precedent to make sure that all future volunteers know that the house is going to stay as close to this clean as possible.

The trip into Conakry went well. All our flights were on time, our luggage made it, and the airport wasn’t any more hectic than usual. Though we did get a great welcoming, as almost all the staff was there to greet us, along with Kim, Lisa, and Bonnie, who had just had their own two day odyssey back from Mali.

Well, I suppose I should get to bed. It is after all, three in the morning here, and I want to be able to get up in time for a morning omelet sandwich, maybe even a fish sauce sandwich if I’m really feeling like getting back into the swing of Guinean things.

Now, I only have to decide which of the eight beds in this room I want to sleep in…

And so the COS trip begins!

Well....I guess it started a few days ago really...Tony, Michelle, Jen, and I did a mini Dogon country trip...Dogon country is for the most part, pretty awesome...the scenery is spectacular, and the villages built into the cliffs are def worth having my out of shape self nearly dying walking through the hot as hell desert (ok, so we walked mostly in the early morning and late afternoon, but when you have a huge pack on your back, it feels like hell!).

I had almost forgotten though what it was like to be in a place with tourists - it really makes things be much more of a hassle, as dogon guides jump on you like vultures and little kids run around begging for anything...."Donne moi l'argent! Ca va le Bic? Ca va le bidon?" Give me money! How's the Pen? How's the bottle? (this second one doesn't make any grammatical sense, but Malian kids love saying it.)

It was pretty interesting to find out that tourism, rather than aiding in the development of the villages and giving the residents a better standard of living, is sometimes even having a backward effect, as kids drop out of school so that they can beg for money from the tourists.

Anyway, besides the hounding by guides and begging children, the start of our COS trip was a full of excitement, good and bad, as we hiked up huge cliffs and spent nights on roofs with sand whipping our faces.

On sunday though, we finally leave Mali - sweet!! It was a good time, but I'm way ready to head on out. I had mentioned COS trip plans, but they're a little more fleshed out now...

On sunday, we leave for Mauritania, where we'll spend a couple weeks traveling through the northern part of the country, hopefully riding some coal trains and sleeping in a oasis or two.

Then we'll overland through the Western Sahara, avoiding land mines, till we get to Morocco, where we'll spend a good couple weeks traveling northward through the country, through Marrakech, Casablanca, Fes, and a few other places. Then we'll take the ferry to Spain, where we'll spend a couple days in Seville, before heading to Portugal and then back to Spain to finish out the trip....and then it's home to the states! Oh, I can't wait to order out some Chinese food and play some video games and then eat some fried chicken and then go to a "vrai" (real) movie theatre and ahhh...I'll stop...

Anyway, keep checking back to see how the trip is going! For now, oo'o!

Peace Corps, Round 2

So it's official, the Peace Corps Guinea program has been suspended. After a day of massive protests all across the country, we were informed by our APCDs that the program in Guinea would be suspended for a period of at least 3 months. So, what does this mean for me? Well - we were given three options by the PC. The first option was to do a three month project in another country (Mali, for example) to wait out the protests in Guinea, then possibly return to Guinea if the program reopened. The second was to imediately transfer to another PC country to finish out our service. I won't be doing either of these. After being pulled out of Guinea, where I had made friends, begun learning the language, established a good rapport with my students, and had made my house a comfortable place to live, I did not want to start from square one in another country without even having the benefit of pre-service training. Instead, I'll be taking the third option available to us, which is to COS (Close of Service). That being said, I'll only be closing my service temporarily, as I'm going to request to re-enroll in the Peace Corps in a program leaving this summer. So I'll be starting over with Peace Corps in June or July, redoing training, and committing to another two years.

I have no idea where I'll end up, but I'm really hoping we have some say over where we go. I would hope that since we forced to leave Guinea by situations out of our control, the Peace Corps will be understanding and helpful the second time around, giving us some say as to where we go. Then again, the Peace Corps is a big government bureaucracy, and the fact that we were evacuated after serving for 7 months might just get lost in the shuffle of papers.

The good news is that I'll be getting a crapload of money for the 7 months i served plus for accepting Cash in Lieu instead of a ticket straight home. This means that, hopefully, Jen and I will be traveling to Dogon country in Mali, then spending a few weeks in Mauritania and Morocco, before ending our journey in Spain. We'll see.

As far as la Guinee is concerned, the president declared martial law a couple nights ago, meaning:

• The military has taken over all policing duties
• Civilians are only allowed to move around the cities from 4 pm to 8 pm
  
• No one is allowed to move around in automobiles
• No large gatherings are permitted

With this added repression on the Guinean people, who knows how much longer Lansana Conte can hold on to power.

Ok, that's all for now...oo'o.

Another Day of Violence in Guinea

Well - time for a pretty pessimistic post. Looks like we're not going back to Guinea, where things seem to be getting worse before they get better. Violence broke out all across the country today, as Lansana Conte announced his nomination of Eugene Camara as Prime Minister late Friday night. The promotion of Camara, Minister of Presidential Affairs, to Prime Minister was seen by the unions and most Guineans as a demonstration of the president's unwillingness to surrender any power, sparking demonstrations from Conakry to Kankan to Kissidougou. Even in Boke, where I spent standfast with pretty much no signs of unrest, protesters lined the streets. I haven't been able to call Boke to find out what happened, but I'm assuming it was a generally peaceful demonstration, at least compared to the rest of the country. That being said, I still worry about my students, who will undoubtedly become involved in demonstrations at some point, and my neighbors, who live in the Prefet's compound, which seem to be a favorite target for demonstrators. Dalaba, Labe, Pita, and other cities have all seen the prefet's houses or offices ransacked and burned to the ground. In Kankan today, violence resulted in the deaths of two soldiers, who were subsequently burnt. It seems unlikely that tomorrow will be any better, as soldiers in the President's motorcade killed two students as the President fled Conakry this morning. The new Prime Minister's house was sacked in Conakry, along with the Guinea Bissauian President's mansion (the neighboring country had apparently sent mercenary troops to help defend Conte).

Things finally seem to have come to a point of no return. I'm hoping that the conflict resolves itsef sooner rather than later in Guinea, mostly as I'm worried about the security of all the people I met throughout my seven months in Guinea. That being said, the people of Guinea could only live under a regime which oversaw 250% inflation, making it nearly impossible for some to buy rice, medication, and other necessary goods. Teachers weren't being paid, schools were closed, and corruption was rampant. A country can only function for so long under those conditions.

A good BBC article covers today's occurrences in Guinea: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/6349411.stm

As far as we're concerned, well, I have no idea what's gonna happen. I'm positive we're not going back to Guinea, though I'm not quite sure what I'll be doing a few months from now. I'm hoping that the re-enrollment option works for me. In other words, I'm hoping to return to the U.S. for a few months, before rejoining the Peace Corps for another full service starting this summer, likely in another West African country with a TEFL program. Next week I'll hopefully know a little more about what our real choices are. Guess we'll see. Ok - time for bed. Say a little prayer for Guinea.

Oo'o.

Evac-Consoli-Vaca-IST-ation in Mali

Is it an evacuation? A consolidation? A vacation? In Service Training? The world will never know, and Peace Corps volunteers and staff will call it all of the above. The point is, the situation got to a bad enough point that staff decided it would be better to take us out of Guinea while the situation cooled down (and hopefully not permanently).

So currently, all of us are in Mali, enjoying what has so far turned out to be a nice vacation, with the Peace Corps taking ridiculously good care of us, providing food, shuttle trips to Bamako, pay increases, and even sessions on how to raise chickens (you can be sure that I attended this one).

Currently, I refuse to believe that we won’t go back to Guinea, so I’m looking at this as a vacation. Hopefully, my hopes won’t be proven otherwise. But as a vacation, it’s a great time so far. Bamako, is ridiculously nice, at least by the standards that living in Guinea for 7 months will leave you with. Paved roads, new buildings, working stop lights, electricity all the time, and even a Tex-Mex Restaurant with ridiculously strong margaritas. Oh, God, I even had a chocolate milkshake. Even better, on Friday, we’ll even be taking off for a music festival lasting three days on the Niger River. I’ll let you all know how that goes.

As far as Guinea, the situation seems to have calmed down quite a bit there, with the strikes being called off after an agreement was reached between union leaders, religious leaders, and the government. The President has agreed to allow for a Prime Minister, who will take over most of his duties until new elections are held. It’s really just a matter of seeing who he nominates, and just how independent the new prime minister can actually be. Regardless, it is an exciting time for Guinea and Guineans, despite the fact that I continuously worry that my service might end at any time.

As far as us staying in Guinea, either nobody really knows everything, or everybody is being incredibly tight lipped. I think its just that nobody really knows what will happen in Guinea. While on paper there is an agreement, we have yet to see how the country reacts to the naming of the prime minister and what he is able to accomplish.

I’m really hopeful that we’ll be able to return to Guinea, and am praying that we do not get evacuated again, if only for the fact that the 3 day overland evacuation from Boke to Bamako was the most painful car ride of my life. It was waking up at 4 in the morning and driving through rocky paths or dirt roads (and the occasional paved road, albeit it in ridiculously bad condition) most of the way, over the course of three days for a total of 31 hours on the road. (Those of us coming from Boke had about the longest, and certainly most uncomfortable evacuation of all the volunteers). Riding sideways in the back of a Land Cruiser packed in with 8 other volunteers didn’t do too much for comfort either. But at least we’re now in Bamako, things seem to be looking up in Guinea, and I’m getting paid 140 dollars every eleven days instead 80 dollars every month. Now, cross your fingers and hope that I return to Guinea soon!

Oo’o.

How To Kill A Rooster

The most exciting part of standfast was without a doubt my first killing of a rooster. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m pretty much a vegetarian (not by choice) in Guinea. Beef is too scary or expensive to eat, and chicken is even more expensive. Nonetheless, we decided it was time to eat some chicken. Thus, Jan, Greg, and I hiked down to the market to pick out a rooster. The second I asked about roosters, Susu women began shoving roosters in my face and in my hands, making me compare their weight, and refusing to take them back until I paid for them. I wasn’t until I pointed out to them that I had to have at least one free hand to pay them that they finally took the roosters back.

Killing the roosters was quite an experience. Catching them before hand was probably the most difficult part of all, as Sam, Ben, Ian, Hajib, and I all raced after the two roosters throughout the compound, unable to catch even the one rooster who had its legs tied together. When they were finally hanging upside down in my hands we got the proper tools to kill them: a small knife and a huge machete. See, we wanted to slit one’s throat (the common method of killing chickens in Guinea) and chop the other’s head off (to see if chickens really do run around with their heads cut off.

So, here are the steps to killing a chicken via the slit throat method:

1. Hold the chicken down by its head, and pluck some of the feathers from its neck.
2. Step on its wings, which should be extended one on top of the other, and hold down its feet, to minimize movement by the agonizing chicken.
3. Say a little Koranic prayer, or have a petit (small African child) say one for you.
4. Pull the knife across the neck, making sure to press firmly so as to avoid multiple passes with the knife, as I had to do due to my unfirm pressure the first time.
5. Whimper like a little girl at the sight of the dying chicken.

And here are the steps to killing a chicken via the head chopping method:

1. Find a large cutting object, such as a machete, and a large chopping block or log to lay the chicken down on.
2. Again, say a little Koranic prayer, or have a petit say one for you.
3. Have a another person hold down the head of the chicken, which should be extended as far as possible from the body.
4. Have some really good aim, so you don’t cut off the hand of the person holding the chicken head.
5. Strike down with the machete in one quick and very hard motion.
6. Strike down with the machete at least 10 more times because you didn’t think it would be so hard to cut a chickens head off.
7. Release the chicken, and watch it run around with its head cut off (yes, it really does this!!)

After killing the chickens, you pluck them by diping the dead chicken in boiling water and then removing all the feathers in a long, smelly, and tedious process. Then, cook and enjoy!

Following my first rooster sacrifice, I decided I want to raise chickens for food. It was much easier than I thought, and I only whimpered like a little girl a few times. We did however, decide that for a future project, we would like to try and build a chicken guillotine, as perhaps a cleaner, faster, and more humane method of killing chickens. Or it might just end up being a disaster. Oo’o.

The Syndicate Strikes Back

Ok – Now for my bigger updates, as promised, since I know I’ve been terrible about updating the last month. This will explain why.

After coming back to Guinea following the New Year, the first thing we found out upon walking into the volunteer house in Conakry was that nationwide strikes were planned for January 10^th. The possibility of these strikes was essentially a done deal ever since the last set of strikes had ended in June of last year. On the tenth, the strikes did indeed begin, though in Boke life went on as normal. The only difference that I could notice was the presence of four armed guards outside my compound, seeing as how I live in the prefet’s (cross between a mayor and governor) concession, which is a couple blocks long Little went on in Guinea the first few days of the strike really, until about day five of the strikes, when things started to kind of spin out of control. Peaceful protests eventually turned into violent demonstrations, especially in Conakry, Mamou, Kankan, and Labe, and by the end of the week more than 60 people had been killed.

In Boke however, where I was spending the strike along with 6 other volunteers, not much of anything happened. Some boutiques were close, but market ladies were out in full force, (some) taxis were still running, and the beer store was still functional. So the following were the most exciting events of the 15 day standfast:

• A drunk soldier shot his gun in the air around 2 a.m. I guess he was getting bored with the lack of any action in Boke.
• A rifle was cocked at us as we walked past the soldiers guarding my compound at 1 am on a return from the Tree Bar (so called because of the giant tree growing out the middle of it) a couple nights before evacuation. I won’t lie, the cocking of a gun in your direction sent a bit of a chill down my spine, but the second we heard it, we announced we were Peace Corps, and they simply greeted us. Any shooting and an exciting story was rather quickly avoided.

So this was essentially all the excitement relating to the strikes that we saw in Boke. Mainly, our days consisted of cooking, eating, going to the river, playing GameBoy, and listening to “My Humps”, “Shake That Ass for Me”, and “Smack That”. I guess sitting with six guys and one girl in a house for 15 days will do that to you.

Oo’o.

An unxpected Vacation in Mali

Hey all - sorry since a lack of updates since before christmas....things have been nothing short of hectic in my life and in Peace Corps Guinea the past month. The super quick update, with a promise to give a more in depth update tonight or tomorrow. I went to Sierra Leone for New years, only to come back and discover that the Guinean unions had planned a strike for January 10th. Thus, seven other PCVs and I headed to Boke to pass what we thought would be a quick seven days hanging out in the Boke house while the strikes ended. Well, the strikes did not end, and now i'm sitting outside of Bamako, Mali with 116 other volunteers after the most uncomfortable 960 kilometers of driving of my life, in order to consolidate us all outside of Guinea while the situation in Guinea stabilizes. So yeah, thats it in a nutshell - however, soon to come - my first killing of a rooster, the amazingness of Bamako, and other random stories of my life in Guinea (and Mali, now!). Oh yeah, tons of new pics posted though, you all should check em out!