Welcome to West Africa, would you like some parasites with your viruses and amoebas today? How about some gastro-intestinal bacterial infections to begin with?

Village
Saturday I met up with Brian, a GEE (girls education and empowerment) trainee, who lives just outside of town about 5km into the bush in a small village. He Brad (another IT trainee) and I rode out to stay the night in Brian’s village. Brad and I live in town, have class around town, eat in town and basically had no reason to have left yet, so we wanted to check out what village life was like.

We rode out around 4pm, so as not to get roasted by the sun - the ride is only around 5km but
even that can be rough with cloudless skies and extreme heat. As we left town, the concrete road turned to red dirt, and the horizon opened up from crowded buildings and market stalls to more of your stereotypical African savannah. There are a decent number of trees - its by no means the desert yet, but apart from the tree tops, some low-lying bushes and the occasional oasis of grass, the rest is red dirt and rocks. The further from town you ride, the more the bike tracks remind you that there is nothing out there. It is the only sign of civilization. About 1.5km out of town, Brian turned left off the main dirt road onto oneof the aforementioned single track dirt paths that leads off into no where. Even in the distance we couldn’t see his village yet, which actually happened to be on the other side of a hill further away.

Every once and a while, and more often than one would expect, we crossed a villageois (person from village) on their way to run errands in town. We would exchange waves, perhaps a greeting or two in several languages and always get a big toothy smile, before continuing our separate ways. This happened several times on our way in to village.

As we crested the final hill, village came into view. Just ahead was a large main compound of red/orange/brown brick and mud huts, surrounded by a wall. Further in the distance, were more clusters of huts, some surrounded by walls in compounds and some loosely grouped together by family. We took the right fork, away from the main walled compound, and passed women carrying various objects on their heads. Brian waved at them, greeted them in Fulfulde and they waved back, smiling. Kids were playing or just hanging out kind of all over the place. The savannah is their playground. As we continued towards a couple family clusters, Brian pointed out another trainee’s host family compound to our right up on a hill. The closer we got to the compounds, the more animals became apparent - likewise for their manure. In fact, there were a couple girls picking up patties, giving them a once-over, and dropping the dried ones in buckets. I would soon find out that they were used as fuel for cooking fires. There were goats, cows, chickens and guinea fowl that make a horrible squeaky-wheel sound that will get on your nerves faster than that baby on the plane that doesn’t stop crying. As we rode into Brian’s family’s compound, which is not walled, but rather an apparently random grouping of huts, a couple heads turned and smiled, some throwing in a wave. We stopped directly outside Brian’s house/hut which is easily distinguishable from the others by its shiny sheet metal door. Laying on a mat on the shady side of his hut was his host dad. We exchanged greetings and he invited us to sit down. He yelled something in Fulfulde and within seconds there were three seats brought for us so we could sit with his dad in the shade and chat. In fact, that’s all there had been for Brian to do in village after language classes. Sit in the shade and make conversation - and it was no surprise he was getting bored. A couple of his dad’s sons came to meet us and chat as well. Not everyone speaks French, but enough do so that we could hold some conversation. After a ride through the bush it was nice just to sit and sweat out the heat of the afternoon. Soon enough people started coming out of the woodworks; some to greet us, some to hide behind huts and stare, and some to continue doing their daily chores - women were preparing for dinner and taking care of infants, men were heading to the mosque every once and a while to pray (the mosque is just a rectangular shaped walled in space that people take their shoes off before entering, although the ground in there is no different from the ground outside - there is no roof), and some were just hanging out in the shade as we were. We got to talking and I found out that Brian’s dad loves chatting with foreigners. He could name all the peace corps volunteers who had stayed with his family but also in the village, and point out their huts. He could also tell us where each of them was from in the states and where they had gone for their post.

Pictures
After a couple hours hanging out in the shade, and the steady aggregation of a dozen or so of Brian’s family members, Brad and I wanted to take some pictures. We asked everyone if they minded that we take their picture and they all said it was fine. As soon as we brought out our cameras, everyone’s attention was glued on them, and they follow the lens of the camera around, ready at any moment for you to snap a shot. Brian’s dad covered up his shoulders before we took the picture (because he thought the sight of his clavicles made him look too skinny - he isn’t really, they just like heavier set people because it indicates food consumption, health and wealth. Some others changed the way they were sitting and huddled closer together. Before we were even ready they were posing and already smiling for the camera. I noticed that certain people wouldn’t look directly at the lens. The first time I thought it was just a fluke and they hadn’t looked at the right time but then it kept repeating itself and I haven’t understood a reason for it just yet. Once we lowered the cameras their eyes followed it down until they could see the LCD display at the back and it was clear they wanted to see what it was showing. Each time you take someone’s picture here, they get a huge kick out of seeing how it turned out - so in this case we had to show everyone involved their picture. At some point I asked Brian’s dad if I could take a picture of his camel and he was more than willing to let it happen. He was also excited to be a part of the shot and insisted on proudly posing with his camel. The camel was a gift from someone and is not rare but definitely not a common sight around here. Further north there are more camels.

Brian took us on a bike ride around the entire village which spanned more than the couple compounds we had seen on our way in. A dirt path did a big loop, passing through several compounds, some of which where trainees lived, and also passed a mango grove that we went to see. Lots of mango trees! And they are all pruned to about our height so you can walk through and the bottom most leaves kind of brush your head. We figured this was about as high as the goats could reach - they like munching on leaves. While we were in the grove, kids started showing up out of the brush. Soon enough there were 5 kids huddled together staring at us and talking in Fulfulde. The oldest was probably 8 or 9 years old, and the youngest couldn’t have been more than 3 or 4. They all wanted to shake our hands several times and then when we took out the camera they got all excited and started posing. Kids giggle a lot when they see themselves in the pictures afterwards. As we got on our bikes to leave, I experienced something else for the first time - The kids would hold onto the back of the bike and run with you until you were moving too fast for them to keep up. I couldn’t tell if they were trying to push us or if they just wanted to run with us. In any case it would happen a couple more times with other kids. Our bike ride took us past the school for the village - one brick building with blue window shutters and a blue door containing one large classroom - and then back to Brian’s compound.

Thunder, Lightning, The Rains and Camera flashes
Later that evening, after dinner, we did what most people in village seem to do at night - hang out and chat - in the dark. A couple times we were looking through pictures on our cameras and you would turn around to see 4 or 5 of Brian’s family members with their toothy (and some toothless) smiles all cramped around behind you trying to see the pictures too. Then we found ourselves going through all the pictures and showing them. They love pictures, especially on the digi-cam display.

We also had the pleasure of witnessing a growing thunder storm. In fact there were two - one to our left and one directly ahead of us. No one knew where they were going but we had a feeling they were heading our way. All of the animals had lain down and were making far less noise than usual for night time, according to Brian. The storms never made it out to us, but they were spectacular to watch. An unobstructed view of the sky with basically zero light pollution and monster thunder clouds unleashing their fury. The lighting was unbelievable - snapping across and through the clouds at every angle imaginable. Some bolts made ground contact somewhere on the horizon and would burn bright white lines into our eyes that lasted several seconds after they were gone. With each big lighting bolt the savannah would light up, contrasting with two trees on the horizon which silhouetted black against the bright whites.

The storm continued from the time it got dark (about 8pm) through the night even after we went to bed at around 11:30pm. Fortunately it didn’t start to rain, but it the weather tested us once early in the morning. We were outside when the wind picked up very suddenly, as it does out here right before a huge rain storm. It is a very convenient indicator of a storm coming because the wind rarely blows very hard until then. Be warned, when it does pick up, powerful gusts shake tin roofs of houses and sting exposed skin with sand and dust. So the wind picks up and we are ushered into Brian’s hut by one of his host brothers who stayed outside with us. Soon enough, the rain comes down and it rains hard. It hits the tin roof so hard you have to shout at one another face to face inside the hut. But it is also glorious. It cools down the weather within seconds and settles the dust to the ground. After a week or so of the rains, grass started growing out of no where. Everything is a bit greener, and against the red dirt background, it resembles Astroturf more then real grass.

In terms of the camera flashes, I was amused to find out that camera flashes during a lightning storm, or rather any electronic device during a lightning storm will scare and of the locals. They think it brings “les foudres” which are the bad lightning flashes that touch ground but more specifically burn trees, rip through houses and kill or injure people. Brad was taking pictures of the lightning and he forgot to turn off the flash, so when it went off several people gasped and quickly started telling us it would be safer to put away the cameras. We did what we were told for the time being and didn’t try to convince them otherwise.

Nassara, Les blancs
As you might have expected, Peace Corps volunteers and trainees form part of the “foreigner” minority in Burkina Faso. The Burkinabé have a name they use for foreigners which they label pretty much anyone who isn’t Burkinabé and who stands out. That happens to be all of us white people, but doesn’t exclude African and Asian-American volunteers. They are labeled Nassara too. Even our Burkinabé staging director told us she gets called Nassarra sometimes too because she has lived for so long in the States. We are also called Les Blancs, which makes sense. The reason I mention the names we are given is because during any one day you can hear it at least half a dozen times. Typically it is young kids to young teenagers who will shout it out at you when you ride by, and sometimes they will include a smile and a wave, expecting you to wave back and say something. They like to point out the Nassarra so that all the other kids can see too and then everyone is waving and looking for some attention. It isn’t necessarily a derogatory name, but it depends on the way it is said. A couple times we have crossed older teenagers and younger adults who for whatever reason are not happy to see us and they snarl a “Nassarra” at us, which has a very different meaning and feel to it.

For the most part it doesn’t bother us that much yet. It is easy enough to wave back to the kids and say bonjour or the equivalent in local language, and they are happy too. It is also an option to stop and explain that we don’t really like to be called nassarra and give them our name. If you do take the time to do this, they don’t ever call you Nassarra again. They will use your name and people around them too will eventually know your name and that is what they will shout when you bike by. Again, the people who live around you will know who you are and will call you by your name, but when you are in town or in different areas of town where no one knows you, you are either Nassarra or Le Blanc.

We have started playing the game back at the kids too - when they call us Nassarra we call them Nassablga which means local person, and when they call us Les Blancs we call them Les Noirs. This has evoked several unexpected responses. Once a kid stared blankly at me and then just said Oui, affirming that he was in fact a black person. I guess maybe I could say Oui next time they call me whitey. Other times they laugh and start a call and response type battle shouting les blancs after we shout les noirs. And the best result is when their mouths drop open and they just stare not knowing what to say.

Nassarra has also term we use when we describe ourselves from their point of view. For example, someone was talking about their teenage host sister who doesn’t ever talk to them, and how she cooks for the family. They said, “Our host sister cooks for our family and sometimes I can’t eat something she served so I eat granola bars instead. She probably goes back with the uneaten food complaining about the Nassarra in the courtyard who doesn’t eat…”

I think eventually Nassarra might get annoying, as mentioned by one volunteer who stops and takes the time to tell everyone she doesn’t like to be called that and give them her name. It works, but can be frustrating. Only time will tell…

Sickness (Advisory: explicit descriptions and foul language)
You might be wondering if illness has taken over yet and indeed it has! I just recovered from a week long bout of nothing I can put my finger on. I had random cases of the Itis (diarrhea if you forgot!), but more problematic was the bloating. I don’t know what bacteria took over my gut but I have never felt so uncomfortable for such a long period of time. Following each meal my stomach would start gurgling and would not stop. Then came the extreme gas production and soon my GI system was bloated and there was so much pressure I was in pain. The solution for relieving the pressure? Geiser Sheizer as we have so named it. It is also known as explosive diarrhea and typically requires damage control when using a latrine as the hole is of a small size and the geiser is uncontrollable. I’ve also discovered it is difficult to feel like you have fully evacuated your system when you are popping a squat, camped and hunched over. I am considering building a latrine adaptable toilet seat in order to remember the pleasure of sitting down and relaxing while relieving ones’ self. I wonder if the idea will pick up around here…

That was my only problem so far, but I can’t say that for others it has been any better. Some have preemptively popped pepto-bismals on a regular basis and have been fine, some have just been fine and haven’t had any problems (they are numbered and dropping fast) and most have had a variety of durations of the Itis, nausea, vomiting, fevers, etc. Apart from that no extreme cases of anything. In any case, any shame that we arrived with has disappeared completely. We have no shame.

Requests
I have some requests to make! There are some things I can’t get here that I wish I had and if you are considering sending a package or if you care about me at all, you can send some of the following. In regards to these items and packages in general, the flat rate boxes are probably your best deal - you can stuff them with as much as you can fit in the box and its…as the name implies, a flat rate.

Powdered drink mix - Gatorade, lemonade, etc. - our filtered bleached warm drinking water is not fun to drink. And our ORS (oral rehydration salts) packets that we add to water when we are dehydrated taste terrible.
Granola Bars - any granola type bar, or trail mix. Not as important but its sometimes hard to find a variety of nuts and raisins and all the rest. It depends what city I’m in but during staging at least they would come in handy.
Candy - Any dry candies would do the palet good. The food we get before being able to cook it ourselves is somewhat bland, so something sweet and artificial on the side is like heaven. It’s also a great gift for my host family - everyone loves candy and American candy is even better. (snickers are also awesome, even though I will probably eat them in a liquid state)
Soup/sauce packets - the soup packets would be pretty sweet during staging, and the sauce packets might be better on site for quick meals.
Spices - this will be very, very key once we are at site, after training, but for the time being, some sort of spice mix that would go well on almost anything would be great. I’m thinking specifically of raw vegetables. Some days I eat veges from the marchè and without a kitchen to cook with it would be amazing to throw on some sort of flavoring, like in my vege sandwich.

Mefloquine Dreams
We take Mefloquine as a preventative measure against Malaria. One of the side effects is lucid dreams. Before taking Mefloquine I was already lucid dreaming the majority of the time I remembered my dreams. As I previously understood lucid dreaming it is described as taking control of some or all of your dream state. Now that I’m taking Mefloquine, I lucid dream in basically all the time, and my dreams are so vivid and clear that if I didn’t know any better I would consider it a second life I live asleep. In fact it is pretty close to that. As tired as I am at the end of these long days and as much as I already want to go pass out, I look forward to going to sleep for the reason that the dreams are always insane. I guess it could be a plus side to throwing oneself into a Malaria infested region…

La Piscine
That’s the pool in French. The nicest hotel in Ouahigouya has a pool! It is an oasis in our desert. It costs 1000cfa for the day, and at the “pool bar” they serve hamburgers, brochettes, fries and other interesting foods that you can’t get elsewhere. So far only tried those three items but they are all amazing. So Sunday has kind of become a pool day for the willing. Some people are still against going to the pool because they find enough to do in village or with their host families. Sundays tend to be laundry and/or learning to cook days with the families so some prefer to avoid the 1000cfa and continue community integration. I really like the pool day if not just to see everyone all together hanging out relaxing. The town people rarely see the village people except for one or two days during the week when we have overlapping cross cultural sessions or else its Sunday at the pool. It’s also a nice break from speaking French all day and its cool to talk with Americans about stuff we can all identify with. Sometimes with families its hard to talk about how you’re feeling when they respond with a short laugh and a “ohhh… ook….” The conversation seems to end soon after that.

4th of July
Happy independence day. It was just the fourth and we just had a party to celebrate. Our mouton was slaughtered and we made sheep-kabobs and sheep burgers and grilled those and the rest of the meat legs, ribs and random slabs. We also had cucumber salad, garlic mashed potatoes, sweet potato fries, fruit salad, watermelon, tabouleh, and some amazing mango pies. It was heavenly. Haven’t felt that full since I’ve been in Africa. Congrats to the crew of trainees who made it all possible, peeling and slicing kilos of potatoes, and Brian and Thomas C. who slaved over the grill with our resident chef Mohammed (props to him too he’s the shit). We also got a couple members of a local band to come play for us and just about everyone was dancing until the village trainees had to hop in the vans and get carted home to villages. The band is called Laafi Bala and are world known. They play a lot in France and my neighbour is one of their main dudes. His name is Maitre (master) Kabako. I believe he is a master because, well first of all, like Mohammed, he’s the shit, and secondly he’s a pro at making Djembe’s. He hosts Djembe building and playing sessions for anyone who wants to pay for em. Just recently there were 15 kids from France who came to learn for like 2 weeks I think.

Random stuff
This Tuesday we will get our site placements. It’s quite exciting because we will finally find out where in Burkina Faso our post will be for the next two years. This eventually leads to us starting our local language training based on where we are placed. The week after next we will meet our counterparts (Burkinabé who will be our homologue for integration and for any questions and concerns and for helping us get settled at site) and we spend some time at our new site checking things out and meeting people. At least I think that’s whats going to happen…

Other than that, I’m really excited to get some mail I’m told I have coming my way, and I would like to reiterate the point that even a letter from someone outside of the country always makes our days. So to anyone who is a relative, friend, or you have no idea who we are and feel like making an American volunteer abroad’s day/week/month, send a letter or a flat rate envelope/package just to say hi from somewhere out there or to spice up their life with some goodies from the states.

Just as a final note I’d like to thank everyone who has left me a comment or sent me a message or an email. Even if I don’t respond directly to your comment, message or email, I am getting them, and I like getting them. It reminds me that people are reading my entries, and that you seem to be enjoying them. As long as there is still interest I will keep posting, and the comments especially I like because they give me feedback on specific entries. It’s also a good place to ask me questions if you have any, or if you want me to elaborate on something I touched on. I’m still working on the photo album, and possibly videos…

Updates to 7.8.08

This posting is a bit later than I wanted it to be, but until this evening I’ve been out for the count since Sunday evening - high fever, diarrhea, extreme headache etc. There was an epidemic of another case of a WASAD (West African Sickness Accompanied by Diarrhea) and several people were out of it for the past two days. It’s practically impossible to pin point exactly what causes these bouts of maladies unless they are more serious and last longer, in which case stool examination can provide indications of what kind of organism is taking over your body. So far no one has had any serious amoebas, parasites or bacterial outbreaks so the illnesses we’ve been going through is “our bodies adapting” as they like to call it here.

As for the good news, site announcements was today, I was in bed so I missed it but my LCF (language coordinator and facilitator - or my French teacher) came by and told me I’ll be in Koudougou. It’s the third biggest city in Burkina Faso if I’m not mistaken, and it’s basically got anything that a big city here has to offer. It’s pretty much in the middle of the country so I’ll have great access to all the other regions via public transport, and I’m only 100km away from Ouagahdougou, the capital and PC HQ. I was hoping for something more south-southwest as its wetter, greener, and cooler down there, not to mention a bit more picturesque, but at the same time the wetness comes with bugs and humidity; the former an enemy of people and the latter an enemy of electronics. I will just have to do lots of visiting of other PCV’s to check out the other cool regions of Burkina Faso. I do have a pretty direct route to Ghana and Togo so that’s a plus for going on vacation or seeing Andrew, a friend from Bates, who’s a PCV in Togo.

I cannot think of anything else I’d like to say right now; my brain feels like mashed potatoes, I am very hungry as I haven’t eaten much while I was sick, and I hope dinner is soon.

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