Monday, December 26, 2011
Not in Guinea
It's Christmas break for the Guinean kids, and that means....vacation! Christmas in Kankan and New Years in Bamako. Updates to come!
Thursday, December 15, 2011
A Day in the Life of Mme. Mariama Fofana
Who is Mariama Fofana? Well, she's married and of an unknown age, probably 25-28, but otherwise, she's me. I have told my community that I'm married because it just makes social interactions easier and makes me more "normal" in their eyes.
On days when I teach at 8:00 am, I wake up at 6:20, and try to convince myself to go for a run. At that point there's enough sun and enough people about that it's safe. Usually, I go back to sleep for twenty minutes before I get up, bucket shower, cook oatmeal and coffee, take my malaria prophylaxis, strap on my chacos, and head to class.
My school days have varied between one class of English or Physics to three classes of english to 2 physics one english to...who knows. Anyway, we raise the Guinean flag and sing the anthem, which I know about half of, and then head to class for two hours. At 10, there's a 15 minute break that lasts 30 minutes during which everyone eats breakfast-akeke or bean sandwiches and bissap and bananas, etc. Then we go from 10:30 to 12, then 12 to 2.
Once I get home, I fix lunch and chill out. I finally motivate myself to do lesson plans for the next day, sweep or wash my floor, get water from the well, and wait for 5 oclock, when I give English lessons in my courtyard. It's fun, a small class of older guys who REALLY want to learn English. When it's too dark to see the board, they head home and I start cooking dinner to the light of my headlamp. Once I wash the dishes in my bucket, I crawl under my mosquito net, turn on the BBC or my ipod, and chill out. I usually call Liz or another volunteer just to see how things are going. By 8 or 9, I'm usually asleep.
Tada, the day of a volunteer.
On days when I teach at 8:00 am, I wake up at 6:20, and try to convince myself to go for a run. At that point there's enough sun and enough people about that it's safe. Usually, I go back to sleep for twenty minutes before I get up, bucket shower, cook oatmeal and coffee, take my malaria prophylaxis, strap on my chacos, and head to class.
My school days have varied between one class of English or Physics to three classes of english to 2 physics one english to...who knows. Anyway, we raise the Guinean flag and sing the anthem, which I know about half of, and then head to class for two hours. At 10, there's a 15 minute break that lasts 30 minutes during which everyone eats breakfast-akeke or bean sandwiches and bissap and bananas, etc. Then we go from 10:30 to 12, then 12 to 2.
Once I get home, I fix lunch and chill out. I finally motivate myself to do lesson plans for the next day, sweep or wash my floor, get water from the well, and wait for 5 oclock, when I give English lessons in my courtyard. It's fun, a small class of older guys who REALLY want to learn English. When it's too dark to see the board, they head home and I start cooking dinner to the light of my headlamp. Once I wash the dishes in my bucket, I crawl under my mosquito net, turn on the BBC or my ipod, and chill out. I usually call Liz or another volunteer just to see how things are going. By 8 or 9, I'm usually asleep.
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| Courtyard English! |
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Stories: The Week from Hell (and then redemption)
On the 3rd of November, my students came to school threatening to go on strike. Why? Too hard of tests? Poor performance by teachers? Low quality cafeteria food? Not a good enough football team? Ha. No. They wanted to go on strike because their teachers hadn't shown up since the beginning of school, one month before. During the month of October, approximately 5 teachers showed up consistently, including me. Out of 19. (It seems to have gotten better in the last week or so, but teacher's are incredibly inconsistent.) I'd want to stop coming to school if I had to get here at 7:45 every day and then wait 2 hours to see if my first teacher would come at all, too.
On the 4th, I had stomach cramps and a headache. Actually, I think I may have had those every day in this week I'm talking about.
On the 5th, nothing terrible happened. Woo. Well, I bought a phone. And as we'll see, that was a mistake.
On the 6th, I broke my Kindle. In the middle of Battlefield Earth, I left it on a chair arm with the case open, stood up, and it hit the ground, cracking the screen inside. It's irredeemable. Luckily my parents are incredible and sent me a new one, so I won't go crazy without books. Nonetheless, the loss of my Kindle was rough. Reading is my one escape here, my one feeling of familiarity, and it's been my favorite activity since age...4?5?
On the 7th, my phone and its "new" Nokia battery turned out to be a total ripoff, so I had to take host brothers to sort it out. Independence=not possible. While at the phone place, I got stung on the elbow and palm by bees. Ouch. When I came back, I got a killer headache, so I popped out to get some bread and bananas while my ibuprofen/large amounts of water kicked in. Coming back, I tried to step over the cement water runoff ditch and couldn't get a wide enough stride with the wrap skirt I had on. I went down hard, crushing my bananas, dirtying my bread, and bruising myself. More than pain, I felt anger. Why did I have to wear this restrictive skirt? Why was my head hurting so badly? Why couldn't I just buy a phone and trust that it would work and the people selling it didn't cheat me out of a real battery? Why did this country hate me so much? I straight up bawled. Loudly. Usually I cry quietly, but the damn (sic) walls broke and I just let it all out. Which led to my host mother and sister asking me to stop, telling me nothing was wrong, and threatening to cry too if I didn't stop. I'm aware falling in a ditch is funny, I know the incidents were all small, but I was past the point of no return on crying, and I just wanted someone to pat my back and say "Let it all out, it's hard here, we know you're not used to this." But it was nice that they tried to help anyway. It was just a bad day.
On the 9th, my luck changed. Stacey brought me Battlefield Earth from Conakry, and we got permission to go to Conakry for Thanksgiving. It was what I needed to cheer myself up and turn around my attitude.
On the 10th, I was homesick for regular things. Restaurants with everything on the menu in the kitchen. Neighborhoods with addresses. Parks. Public transportation. Water fountains, or running water at all. Nbd, just a small backstep.
On the 11th, I had an 11/11/11 in Fria, had a nice day, and then lost my new, expensive cell phone. Due to the date, it didn't get me down as much as the Kindle, but geez, what a week.
On the 4th, I had stomach cramps and a headache. Actually, I think I may have had those every day in this week I'm talking about.
On the 5th, nothing terrible happened. Woo. Well, I bought a phone. And as we'll see, that was a mistake.
On the 6th, I broke my Kindle. In the middle of Battlefield Earth, I left it on a chair arm with the case open, stood up, and it hit the ground, cracking the screen inside. It's irredeemable. Luckily my parents are incredible and sent me a new one, so I won't go crazy without books. Nonetheless, the loss of my Kindle was rough. Reading is my one escape here, my one feeling of familiarity, and it's been my favorite activity since age...4?5?
On the 7th, my phone and its "new" Nokia battery turned out to be a total ripoff, so I had to take host brothers to sort it out. Independence=not possible. While at the phone place, I got stung on the elbow and palm by bees. Ouch. When I came back, I got a killer headache, so I popped out to get some bread and bananas while my ibuprofen/large amounts of water kicked in. Coming back, I tried to step over the cement water runoff ditch and couldn't get a wide enough stride with the wrap skirt I had on. I went down hard, crushing my bananas, dirtying my bread, and bruising myself. More than pain, I felt anger. Why did I have to wear this restrictive skirt? Why was my head hurting so badly? Why couldn't I just buy a phone and trust that it would work and the people selling it didn't cheat me out of a real battery? Why did this country hate me so much? I straight up bawled. Loudly. Usually I cry quietly, but the damn (sic) walls broke and I just let it all out. Which led to my host mother and sister asking me to stop, telling me nothing was wrong, and threatening to cry too if I didn't stop. I'm aware falling in a ditch is funny, I know the incidents were all small, but I was past the point of no return on crying, and I just wanted someone to pat my back and say "Let it all out, it's hard here, we know you're not used to this." But it was nice that they tried to help anyway. It was just a bad day.
On the 9th, my luck changed. Stacey brought me Battlefield Earth from Conakry, and we got permission to go to Conakry for Thanksgiving. It was what I needed to cheer myself up and turn around my attitude.
On the 10th, I was homesick for regular things. Restaurants with everything on the menu in the kitchen. Neighborhoods with addresses. Parks. Public transportation. Water fountains, or running water at all. Nbd, just a small backstep.
On the 11th, I had an 11/11/11 in Fria, had a nice day, and then lost my new, expensive cell phone. Due to the date, it didn't get me down as much as the Kindle, but geez, what a week.
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| the broken kindle. my broken heart |
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| a beautiful sky on 11/11/11 |
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Characters: The Neighbor Teacher Lady
Madame, as she's generally called, is incredible. I have no idea what her age is, but she's feisty and intelligent and a superwoman. She teaches at a Franco-Arabe private school, where her husband also works. They have an 18 month old girl who's my favorite kid on the compound. Of course, the little girl used to be so afraid of me she'd cry every time she saw me. Now she knows that I'm a Tanti and thus not totally terrifying. Madame also has a nine year old from a previous marriage. Her parents were a doctor and a nurse, and she really wanted to go to college, but she just didn't pass the concours, so she went to a teaching school instead, where she met her current husband. Her ex-husband, she tells me, was a jealous, controlling man, who most importantly, didn't love her. This is a pretty incredible idea considering that love in marriage is definitely not the main consideration for most people here. She left him because he didn't treat her right, and now she's married to a man that she didn't love at first, but who clearly respects and loves her, and who she now loves back. It's really refreshing to watch them sitting on their porch in the evenings, passing the baby back and forth and talking about their days.
When I first arrived at the compound, she handed me a nice local broom and said "On est ensemble ici" which translates to "We're in this together". She's made me meals, she's given me advice, she's braided my hair, she's sat and laughed at my stories, and when I cried so hard that my family couldn't help but hear, she came in my house, hugged me, and told me to stop crying or she'd cry too. She's essentially my sister here, and I respect her so much. She's not a part of the family in the compound, so she's a stranger too, and sometimes they aren't so welcoming. Because I moved in, her family had to move into a larger apartment, and due to the cost, they have to board with other women as well, who are noisy and crass, she tells me. So she made sacrifices for me before she even knew me. She told me it was because she heard I was a teacher and she knew that I would be a good neighbor. She's one of the most beautiful Guineans I've ever met in the way that she treats people, in the way she laughs, and in the way she has welcomed me to my new home.
When I first arrived at the compound, she handed me a nice local broom and said "On est ensemble ici" which translates to "We're in this together". She's made me meals, she's given me advice, she's braided my hair, she's sat and laughed at my stories, and when I cried so hard that my family couldn't help but hear, she came in my house, hugged me, and told me to stop crying or she'd cry too. She's essentially my sister here, and I respect her so much. She's not a part of the family in the compound, so she's a stranger too, and sometimes they aren't so welcoming. Because I moved in, her family had to move into a larger apartment, and due to the cost, they have to board with other women as well, who are noisy and crass, she tells me. So she made sacrifices for me before she even knew me. She told me it was because she heard I was a teacher and she knew that I would be a good neighbor. She's one of the most beautiful Guineans I've ever met in the way that she treats people, in the way she laughs, and in the way she has welcomed me to my new home.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Thanksgiving in Guinea!
Well, I'm in Conakry for Thanksgiving, which is really nice, because our regional capital is just not equipped to cook any sort of real meal. No cooking supplies at the house, no oven, and definitely a much smaller selection of food. We are managing to have almost all the traditional dishes, except sweet potatoes (they're different here) and cranberry sauce. Cranberries are unheard of here. We even managed to get a turkey, thanks to a lovely lady with embassy connections who happened to buy extra. I'm in charge of stuffing, but we're going to have apple and pumpkin pie, green bean casserole, deviled eggs, mashed potatoes, carrot cake, brownies, mac and cheese...I think that's most of it!
I've been doing much better at site recently, after a sort of really terrible week that seemed to mark a turning point. School is going slow and is still stressful, even with much reduced hours, because I am behind on the program and I have to give evaluations and the kids still aren't getting what I'm telling them. I think my French is too fast, which is a problem, but I've been trying to slow down and simplify and make things interesting. My community life has gotten better, with many less fotes and many more Mari Fofanas. Taxi drivers and gendarmes can still be a pain in the butt, but its so much better. My susu is also improving, though I haven't had any official lessons!
I'm going to try to set up a bunch of blog posts to post at week intervals so that you'll have something to read while I'm not in internet access.
I've been doing much better at site recently, after a sort of really terrible week that seemed to mark a turning point. School is going slow and is still stressful, even with much reduced hours, because I am behind on the program and I have to give evaluations and the kids still aren't getting what I'm telling them. I think my French is too fast, which is a problem, but I've been trying to slow down and simplify and make things interesting. My community life has gotten better, with many less fotes and many more Mari Fofanas. Taxi drivers and gendarmes can still be a pain in the butt, but its so much better. My susu is also improving, though I haven't had any official lessons!
I'm going to try to set up a bunch of blog posts to post at week intervals so that you'll have something to read while I'm not in internet access.
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| The view from my front porch |
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
3 mins left internet
Things are going well at site. Teaching physics and english and my load might have just gotten cut down. Had a pretty good 11/11 but i wish i coulda hung out with my hs friends and had a party in the states. looking forwards to conakry for turkey day next week, gotta go.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Installed
Hello all! Long time, no see. Figuratively, of course. I'm in a city called Kamsar for the day, making use of the internet cafe here. I don't have a whole lot of time to write about everything I wish I could, but I'll try to make a start.
My site is good, with a great market (by guinean standards), iced drinks available, lots of people, and easy transportation. It's too big to get to know everyone, so I get called Fote a lot. And stared at a lot. In fact, I often feel like an animal in a zoo, or an alien. When small children yell and run from me, it definitely feels like I'm an alien. It doesn't help that I've read about eight science fiction books since getting here. It's easy to relate to.
I will be teaching 6 hours of physics and 10 of english, instead of the 11 hours of physics that I expected. That's what happens when you have small classes in 11th grade, as few people passed the qualifying test for high school. In addition, none of the English teachers has shown up yet, so I'm the only english teacher at the moment, though I'm only scheduled to teach the oldest kids, I'll be occasionally giving lessons to the younger kids. It's kinda stressful, actually, and I really need to get a routine down, although that's been impossible as the schedule isn't figured out.
I'm still pretty homesick at times, though I've gotten used to not having water or power. Not having internet, as the rest of the volunteers do in the other regions, was really weighing on me. I'm glad we found a way to get internet. it's been really great seeing other volunteers and comparing experiences. A couple of us met up in another big town a few weeks ago and found an awesome restaurant, so we'll probably make that a tradition when we need to get supplies/go to the bank.
My one crazy story is that I had a mouse get inside my mosquito net, and then I inadvertently trapped it there, so I woke up twice in the middle of the night and it kept coming closer to my head each time i woke up. At first I thought I dreamt it, but finally I was so freaked out that I just left the bed to it and sat in my living room til morning prayer, and then I put my hammock up outside and slept there. Now I can put my hammock up inside too! Which is somewhat cooler than sleeping in the bed.
I get irritated really easily. As my mom says, I have to learn patience. It's a hard lesson.
I miss everybody! I can be contacted (dubiously) by letter, phone call, text message, or email. Phone calls and emails can be done pretty cheaply through Skype, and you can get my phone number through my parents, if you want! Post any questions you want answered next month in the comments and I'll try to read them!
My site is good, with a great market (by guinean standards), iced drinks available, lots of people, and easy transportation. It's too big to get to know everyone, so I get called Fote a lot. And stared at a lot. In fact, I often feel like an animal in a zoo, or an alien. When small children yell and run from me, it definitely feels like I'm an alien. It doesn't help that I've read about eight science fiction books since getting here. It's easy to relate to.
I will be teaching 6 hours of physics and 10 of english, instead of the 11 hours of physics that I expected. That's what happens when you have small classes in 11th grade, as few people passed the qualifying test for high school. In addition, none of the English teachers has shown up yet, so I'm the only english teacher at the moment, though I'm only scheduled to teach the oldest kids, I'll be occasionally giving lessons to the younger kids. It's kinda stressful, actually, and I really need to get a routine down, although that's been impossible as the schedule isn't figured out.
I'm still pretty homesick at times, though I've gotten used to not having water or power. Not having internet, as the rest of the volunteers do in the other regions, was really weighing on me. I'm glad we found a way to get internet. it's been really great seeing other volunteers and comparing experiences. A couple of us met up in another big town a few weeks ago and found an awesome restaurant, so we'll probably make that a tradition when we need to get supplies/go to the bank.
My one crazy story is that I had a mouse get inside my mosquito net, and then I inadvertently trapped it there, so I woke up twice in the middle of the night and it kept coming closer to my head each time i woke up. At first I thought I dreamt it, but finally I was so freaked out that I just left the bed to it and sat in my living room til morning prayer, and then I put my hammock up outside and slept there. Now I can put my hammock up inside too! Which is somewhat cooler than sleeping in the bed.
I get irritated really easily. As my mom says, I have to learn patience. It's a hard lesson.
I miss everybody! I can be contacted (dubiously) by letter, phone call, text message, or email. Phone calls and emails can be done pretty cheaply through Skype, and you can get my phone number through my parents, if you want! Post any questions you want answered next month in the comments and I'll try to read them!
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