It's official, I'm now a Peace Corps Volunteer!
After a few days of air conditioning, burgers, ice cream and toilet seats, I'm now ready to go to site and not have any of those things once again. I'm anxious and excited, so it's a pretty good combination.
These last few days have been a bit disconcerting because sometimes I've felt like I've been on vacation in Europe, what with the food and the nice air-conditioned buildings and all the tourists. But then I'd walk down the street and see donkeys pulling carts--all right, I'm still in Africa.
Swear-in was last night at the Embassy, and it was lovely and everyone was all gussied up, even me. I'll post pictures eventually.
All right, signing off now because the driver is here to take me away, away, away to Bouroum-Bouroum. Next time I write (it'll be a longer entry), I'll have been at my site for about a week, by my lonesome. Wheeew! But my site mate is making me dinner tonight, so I'm really looking forward to that.
Au revoir and thanks for the birthday wishes! I had a great one!
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
The Day Before, or The Last Day, I guess
I thought I'd write a short post today since I have the time and yes, I have been recommended for swear-in. I passed all of my exit exams and so now they tell me that I'm ready to become a Peace Corps Volunteer. Thank you, thank you.
I posted a few pictures (above and below), so take a gander. Most of them are of my host family (Abiba making me cucumber abd tomato salad, my host family ensemble, and then me and Abiba).
Going to Ouaga tomorrow! And tomorrow also happens to be my birthday! Yay!
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Happy Birthday, Doug!
Weekend birthdays are spectacular, so I hope yours is extra amazing. I’m certain that the bar-b-q yesterday was delicious, and I’m a little jealous. Okay I’m more than a little jealous. If I could remember my dreams, I’m sure that most of them would be about food. Anywho, Happy Birthday, Mr. Man!
Speaking of birthdays, mine is next Sunday. My golden birthday—23 on the 23rd. Please send goodies!
My birthday also means that I’ll be 2 days away from becoming a Peace Corps Volunteer. All I can say is it’s about time. I know I moaned and groaned about this in my last entry, but somehow my level of irritability with everything and everyone has grown exponentially in the last week. I desperately want my privacy back; I want to be able to eat what I want when I want; I’d like to get away from a few people; and I don’t want any more training sessions. Once I have these things, I think I’ll be ducky.
Throughout stage I’ve found that I’ve received the most useful information from my informal conversations with volunteers. Hearing about their experiences in village and how they deal with day-to-day frustrations has put me more at ease. Now I know to expect that my first month in Bouroum-Bouroum will be one of the most difficult times. Getting to know people, trying to integrate into the community, and waiting and preparing for school to start might make me lose some of my hair. Hairdressers have told me that though my hair is fine, there’s lots of it. So I guess I can afford to lose some here and there. At least I’m el prepared.
I have one week left with my host family. All in all, it was a great experience and I adore my host mom, Abiba. We talk all the time and do the snappy finger handshake. She makes me food that I like and never forgets which foods I detest (oh yes, I’m talking about benga, tô, bouille). We joke, talk about life in the U.S. and life in Africa, and we sit in a very unladylike manner in our chairs slurping delicious bissap. I think Abiba’s incredibly modern compared to other Burkinabé women, and I feel like there’s more “equality” in her marriage than most here. I feel like she’s a very opinionated, strong-willed woman stuck in a stifling cultural situation. But most importantly, I think she’s happy. Incredibly happy, in fact.
And I’m going to miss her. She told me that she’s going to cry when I leave next Saturday, and asked me what I’d like to have as my last meal with the family. I asked for pasta, meat (cross your fingers for some poulet!) and jus de weda. I’m going to bring out my camera next week to take some photos and then give my host family their gifts (thanks for the cool New Mexico stuff, Mom!). Saturday morning will be difficult, but I’m ready for the next step. I think.
I was told yesterday that the house that was supposed to be mine in Bouroum-Bouroum is actually not the house where I’ll be living. Apparently the Peace Corps doesn’t want me living so close to the road (for security/traffic reasons, though it’s in a pretty secluded, low-traffic area) and so close to the school (where students could peak into my courtyard). So now I have a new house. Obviously I haven’t seen it, but I was told that it’s in the same general area as the other one—thank goodness because I absolutely adore that part of BB. Also, it’s a traditional Lobi-style house (see picture from about 4 weeks ago) with 3 rooms, including a salon and an indoor douche. I was told I have a huge enclosed courtyard as well. Once I see it in person, I’ll give you the real in-depth scoop and post pictures.
Other Stuff: 3 more days left of Model School. I kind of enjoy teaching math, and now I have to plan an exam for next Tuesday. I have a report/presentation due next week on female genital mutilation in Burkina Faso. I finally finished reading Angels & Demons. It only took me practically the entire stage, though in my defense I did put the book down for about 3 weeks before I remembered that I had it. It was an enjoyable read, and now I’m on to The Shining. Living with kids for the past 9 weeks has confirmed for me that I never want children. Ever. Aside from the occasional stomach cramping I’m in good health, which is more than I can say for some of the other stagiaires. By the way, no one on my stage has left Burkina (in shame or otherwise), which is unusual according to the volunteers. It’s because of me—I’m simply amazing and everyone wants to stay in Burkina because I’m here. Actually we’re all still here because we love flies flying into every orifice and mosquitoes sucking blood from our derrières when we have to use the latrine. I’m trying to decide what I’m going to use as a light source in BB—I think I’m going to buy a solar panel. Any thoughts? And finally, if you come across Chocolate Teddy Grahams, please send them my way!
This may be my last entry before I go to Bouroum-Bouroum for the next two years of my life. So next time you hear from me, I just might be a bona fide Peace Corps Volunteer. Recognize, yo! Word.
And thanks for reading!
Speaking of birthdays, mine is next Sunday. My golden birthday—23 on the 23rd. Please send goodies!
My birthday also means that I’ll be 2 days away from becoming a Peace Corps Volunteer. All I can say is it’s about time. I know I moaned and groaned about this in my last entry, but somehow my level of irritability with everything and everyone has grown exponentially in the last week. I desperately want my privacy back; I want to be able to eat what I want when I want; I’d like to get away from a few people; and I don’t want any more training sessions. Once I have these things, I think I’ll be ducky.
Throughout stage I’ve found that I’ve received the most useful information from my informal conversations with volunteers. Hearing about their experiences in village and how they deal with day-to-day frustrations has put me more at ease. Now I know to expect that my first month in Bouroum-Bouroum will be one of the most difficult times. Getting to know people, trying to integrate into the community, and waiting and preparing for school to start might make me lose some of my hair. Hairdressers have told me that though my hair is fine, there’s lots of it. So I guess I can afford to lose some here and there. At least I’m el prepared.
I have one week left with my host family. All in all, it was a great experience and I adore my host mom, Abiba. We talk all the time and do the snappy finger handshake. She makes me food that I like and never forgets which foods I detest (oh yes, I’m talking about benga, tô, bouille). We joke, talk about life in the U.S. and life in Africa, and we sit in a very unladylike manner in our chairs slurping delicious bissap. I think Abiba’s incredibly modern compared to other Burkinabé women, and I feel like there’s more “equality” in her marriage than most here. I feel like she’s a very opinionated, strong-willed woman stuck in a stifling cultural situation. But most importantly, I think she’s happy. Incredibly happy, in fact.
And I’m going to miss her. She told me that she’s going to cry when I leave next Saturday, and asked me what I’d like to have as my last meal with the family. I asked for pasta, meat (cross your fingers for some poulet!) and jus de weda. I’m going to bring out my camera next week to take some photos and then give my host family their gifts (thanks for the cool New Mexico stuff, Mom!). Saturday morning will be difficult, but I’m ready for the next step. I think.
I was told yesterday that the house that was supposed to be mine in Bouroum-Bouroum is actually not the house where I’ll be living. Apparently the Peace Corps doesn’t want me living so close to the road (for security/traffic reasons, though it’s in a pretty secluded, low-traffic area) and so close to the school (where students could peak into my courtyard). So now I have a new house. Obviously I haven’t seen it, but I was told that it’s in the same general area as the other one—thank goodness because I absolutely adore that part of BB. Also, it’s a traditional Lobi-style house (see picture from about 4 weeks ago) with 3 rooms, including a salon and an indoor douche. I was told I have a huge enclosed courtyard as well. Once I see it in person, I’ll give you the real in-depth scoop and post pictures.
Other Stuff: 3 more days left of Model School. I kind of enjoy teaching math, and now I have to plan an exam for next Tuesday. I have a report/presentation due next week on female genital mutilation in Burkina Faso. I finally finished reading Angels & Demons. It only took me practically the entire stage, though in my defense I did put the book down for about 3 weeks before I remembered that I had it. It was an enjoyable read, and now I’m on to The Shining. Living with kids for the past 9 weeks has confirmed for me that I never want children. Ever. Aside from the occasional stomach cramping I’m in good health, which is more than I can say for some of the other stagiaires. By the way, no one on my stage has left Burkina (in shame or otherwise), which is unusual according to the volunteers. It’s because of me—I’m simply amazing and everyone wants to stay in Burkina because I’m here. Actually we’re all still here because we love flies flying into every orifice and mosquitoes sucking blood from our derrières when we have to use the latrine. I’m trying to decide what I’m going to use as a light source in BB—I think I’m going to buy a solar panel. Any thoughts? And finally, if you come across Chocolate Teddy Grahams, please send them my way!
This may be my last entry before I go to Bouroum-Bouroum for the next two years of my life. So next time you hear from me, I just might be a bona fide Peace Corps Volunteer. Recognize, yo! Word.
And thanks for reading!
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Darren's got an appetite
I am exhausted and I have beautiful half-moons under my eyes. However, I am sleeping extremely well and even when I wake up in the middle of the night sweating buckets, I tend to fall right back to sleep. My bike manual makes a really good fan and it is my constant companion.
I think a major part of why I’m exhausted is the stress of Model School—which has been going well, by the way—but I can also attribute my constant le tiredness to having every minute of my day planned out for me. I kind of feel like I’m being infantilized, but I also realize that the scheduling and training is necessary. And the truth is that I’ll probably miss being told what to do once I’m at site and I’m completely on my own. But let’s face it, right now it’s a little annoying. I’ve noticed that most of the people in my stage are a little more on edge now than we were in the beginning. Patience has gone down and sarcasm has risen. I love it.
But we only have two more weeks of stage! We go to Ouagadougou on my birthday and then two days later we swear-in. Yaowzers. I’m ready for stage to be over, but at the same time I feel like I’m in no way ready to go to site. Ready or not, I’ll be there spouting out the few Lobiri phrases I’ve learned. Mi fuoré!
Model School Update: I’m switching my subject next week from Physics/Chemistry to Math. There’s a good chance that I’ll be teaching Math in Bouroum-Bouroum, so some practice in that subject would probably be helpful. I also administered my first exam this week. Amusing news before the bad news: A mother and her little chickies wandered into my classroom during the exam. I shooed them away, but they were so cute! And now the bad news: Most of the class performed abysmally. Students need a 10/20 to pass the test, and out of 37 students only 5 passed in my class. I was horrified and depressed, and then I drank a coke so I felt a little better. What confuses me is that I thought my test was fairly easy—I took questions from the lectures and I tweaked them a little bit to make sure the students weren’t simply memorizing everything they wrote down without understanding it. But alas, it seems like most of them did just that.
The Burkinabé education system is based on rote learning, which is a problem when it comes to critical thinking. When the same questions are asked in a different way, blank stares are usually the response, and maybe some drool. Or blank or blatantly wrong answers that make no sense are written on exams. But thank gobbledygook, one girl in my class got a 16.5/20 on the exam. She actually took the time to learn the material and understand the mechanics of it. I praised her in front of the class, and she was embarrassed but happy. And now I know that my test wasn’t impossibly hard—it was just a test that demanded critical thinking rather than a direct regurgitation of the material. That’s that.
We’ll see how my algebra class goes next week. I’m glad that I’m getting a taste of what school will be like at site because now I know that I need to ask questions and teach the material in a way that discourages rote learning. I’ll be tackling fractions next week—woot to the woot!
Today I’m going to the tailor with my host mom to have an outfit made for swear-in. I bought a couple of panyés last week at the marché to use as the material. It’s black, with a red, green and white repeating pattern. For some reason the pattern looks Irish to me, but I can’t explain why. Maybe Celtic is what I’m going for. Anywho, I’m hoping to get a short-sleeve top and long skirt made, and this is my first time going to the tailor. I explained to my host mom what I wanted, and she offered to take me to have it made. It will be our first host mom-daughter outing! Precious moments. Side note: my host mom bought a 24-pack of soda (coke, sprite and orange fanta), which is something she hasn't done before. I don't know what she means by this and if I will be the lucky recipient of 1 or 5 cokes. I'll investigate and get back to you.
I have a few last things to day for this week’s entry: One, arm sweat. I’m not talking about underarm sweat because there’s nothing interesting about that. I’m talking about sweating on every square inch of my arms. While sitting. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed arm sweat when I was in the States, probably because arms are the last part of the body that should be sweating. Golly gee it’s chaud!
Two, I now hate Saturdays. Four straight hours of Lobiri on a Saturday is no bueno for my health. Especially when I finish the fourth hour feeling like I’ve retained very little information.
Third and Last, I’m eagerly awaiting the arrival of a couple of packages that were sent some weeks ago. I want chocolate! I’ll let you know, Mom and Grandma, once they arrive—thanks so much for sending the love!
And just in case the rest of you were wondering, I’m not averse to receiving packages and/or letters. Again, just in case you’re wondering, I love receiving packages and/or letters.
Sa ha gbe!
Hope you all have a ducky weekend!
I think a major part of why I’m exhausted is the stress of Model School—which has been going well, by the way—but I can also attribute my constant le tiredness to having every minute of my day planned out for me. I kind of feel like I’m being infantilized, but I also realize that the scheduling and training is necessary. And the truth is that I’ll probably miss being told what to do once I’m at site and I’m completely on my own. But let’s face it, right now it’s a little annoying. I’ve noticed that most of the people in my stage are a little more on edge now than we were in the beginning. Patience has gone down and sarcasm has risen. I love it.
But we only have two more weeks of stage! We go to Ouagadougou on my birthday and then two days later we swear-in. Yaowzers. I’m ready for stage to be over, but at the same time I feel like I’m in no way ready to go to site. Ready or not, I’ll be there spouting out the few Lobiri phrases I’ve learned. Mi fuoré!
Model School Update: I’m switching my subject next week from Physics/Chemistry to Math. There’s a good chance that I’ll be teaching Math in Bouroum-Bouroum, so some practice in that subject would probably be helpful. I also administered my first exam this week. Amusing news before the bad news: A mother and her little chickies wandered into my classroom during the exam. I shooed them away, but they were so cute! And now the bad news: Most of the class performed abysmally. Students need a 10/20 to pass the test, and out of 37 students only 5 passed in my class. I was horrified and depressed, and then I drank a coke so I felt a little better. What confuses me is that I thought my test was fairly easy—I took questions from the lectures and I tweaked them a little bit to make sure the students weren’t simply memorizing everything they wrote down without understanding it. But alas, it seems like most of them did just that.
The Burkinabé education system is based on rote learning, which is a problem when it comes to critical thinking. When the same questions are asked in a different way, blank stares are usually the response, and maybe some drool. Or blank or blatantly wrong answers that make no sense are written on exams. But thank gobbledygook, one girl in my class got a 16.5/20 on the exam. She actually took the time to learn the material and understand the mechanics of it. I praised her in front of the class, and she was embarrassed but happy. And now I know that my test wasn’t impossibly hard—it was just a test that demanded critical thinking rather than a direct regurgitation of the material. That’s that.
We’ll see how my algebra class goes next week. I’m glad that I’m getting a taste of what school will be like at site because now I know that I need to ask questions and teach the material in a way that discourages rote learning. I’ll be tackling fractions next week—woot to the woot!
Today I’m going to the tailor with my host mom to have an outfit made for swear-in. I bought a couple of panyés last week at the marché to use as the material. It’s black, with a red, green and white repeating pattern. For some reason the pattern looks Irish to me, but I can’t explain why. Maybe Celtic is what I’m going for. Anywho, I’m hoping to get a short-sleeve top and long skirt made, and this is my first time going to the tailor. I explained to my host mom what I wanted, and she offered to take me to have it made. It will be our first host mom-daughter outing! Precious moments. Side note: my host mom bought a 24-pack of soda (coke, sprite and orange fanta), which is something she hasn't done before. I don't know what she means by this and if I will be the lucky recipient of 1 or 5 cokes. I'll investigate and get back to you.
I have a few last things to day for this week’s entry: One, arm sweat. I’m not talking about underarm sweat because there’s nothing interesting about that. I’m talking about sweating on every square inch of my arms. While sitting. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed arm sweat when I was in the States, probably because arms are the last part of the body that should be sweating. Golly gee it’s chaud!
Two, I now hate Saturdays. Four straight hours of Lobiri on a Saturday is no bueno for my health. Especially when I finish the fourth hour feeling like I’ve retained very little information.
Third and Last, I’m eagerly awaiting the arrival of a couple of packages that were sent some weeks ago. I want chocolate! I’ll let you know, Mom and Grandma, once they arrive—thanks so much for sending the love!
And just in case the rest of you were wondering, I’m not averse to receiving packages and/or letters. Again, just in case you’re wondering, I love receiving packages and/or letters.
Sa ha gbe!
Hope you all have a ducky weekend!
Monday, August 3, 2009
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