rolling in the deep

I'm sitting on a bench in town, chatting occassionally with the people around me. But for the most part my attention is focused on my Kakuro math puzzle (thanks Remus!). I love math puzzles. As I'm figuring out all the ways to add the numbers 1-9 to make 27 without using the same number twice, I'm pulled out of my math bubb
le of concentration when I notice three sets of four very long, large, tan-colored hairy legs. I look up and there they be.

My first camel sighting in Bouroum-Bouroum. The camels stand right in front of me and stare me down. When they get bored with me they start to nose through the treasures (aka garbage and excrement) littering the ground. The camels return to staring at me, chewing in that slow sideways motion characterisitic of cows and people who never learned to chew with their mouths closed. Did your mothers not teach you manners? I prefer this type of chewing when animals are doing it. They're much cuter.

One camel starts to chew on the cord to his harness and his owner scolds him. The camel stops gnawing on the cord, but when his owner turns away he takes it in his mouth again. Defiant camel.

These three camels are about eight feet tall. They're not too smelly and none of them spit in my presence. They were carrying a lot of cargo, not to mention each had to carry one man on its back. I asked if I could touch one of them, and one of the men obligingly lowered the camel into a sitting position so that I could scratch his head. I wish I could say that the camel purred like a cat when I scratched his ears, but he seemed uninterested in all of it. The man who lowered the camel wasn't though--I received another marriage proposal. Though I almost accepted (I mean, the man travels around on a camel. That's pretty sweet.), I had to decline because he wore socks with sandals. Deal breaker. Especially to someone like me who's a slave to fashion.

In other news, school has started back up, hooray! The school year will end in June instead of May because of all the lost time due to the strikes in February and March. So now I'm back to teaching, giving tests, grading, tutoring, coaching soccer. Brenda and I are putting on an end-of-the-school-year girls soccer game. The first ever in my village. We had to push hard to allow the girls to play 90 minutes, instead of the measly 30 minutes everyone else wanted to give them. They're also going to wear the boys' uniforms for their game! The game is scheduled for May 26, so Brenda and I are going to start writing the invitations.

Yesterday I walked into my latrine and I was greeted by a very surprised snake. He was long and thin, kind of brownish with a darker head. He freaked out when I opened the latrine door and then he slithered away into a hole. I was hoping he was gone for good, and I actually thought he was. When I went back to my latrine later in the day I didn't see him, and so I happily went about my business as usual. But then he popped out, and he wasn't expecting me (or I him). He jumped slightly in the air, and I responded by screaming and hitting my head on the doorframe in my attempt to escape. One of my neighbors heard the commotion and came over to investigate; I told her my tale and her response was, "Oh. That's it?" And then she walked away. That's all I need is for a snake to come upon me unawares and bite me in the butt. It's bad enough that my bathroom consists of a hole in a ground. Add one snake. Fortunately I haven't run into the thing today, and I'm really hoping he's slithered elsewhere.

I also had a huge cockroach crawl on me today while I was eating my lunch (the ususal--rice with tomato sauce and cabbage). He met his end. And he didn't ruin my appetite.

My COS (Close of Service) date has been approved. My last official day as a Peace Corps Volunteer is August 3. A European trip is in the works before my return to the glorious U.S. of A.

The countdown is on...

the dashboard melted but we still had the radio

March days passing by, no school, but plenty of flies.

What have I been doing during these blisteringly hot March days, you ask? Well I've been hanging out in Bouroum-Bouroum. There are quite a few students who continue to study even without having school, and so I've been having groups come to my house and do math and English exercises. I've also been reading like a maniac--nothing by Proust or Faulkner. More like Dan Brown and the dude who writes those monster-ridden alterative versions of classic Jane Austen novels. I also find myself seeking shade (where I'll only sweat off half of my body weight) and watching the clouds roll by. I spend my time poking the bat, Boris, that's been living in my house for the past month. Boris is the best bat I've ever had--he doesn't fly around at night in my house and I believe he's been eating quite a few insects. Good Boris. Sometimes I'll scare little Burkinabe children, but most of them in my village are used to me now so that void filler has lost its entertainment value. I gave in and sort of cleaned my house. I swept, which is something I haven't done since September. I eat--gateau, rice, foutou and peanut butter sandwiches. I sleep. I try to catch chickens. I still can't whistle.

8 Mars 2011 has come and gone. It wasn't nearly as good as the one last year. The women slaved away and cooked chicken; they served the men who naturally complained about the size of their portions. The women cleaned up after the meal. My girls soccer club was allowed only 30 minutes of game time (very few attended), and then the boys, of course, were given the complete 90 minutes (and tons of people came to cheer them on). When I complained to one of the (male) officials of BrBr, he told me that men are superior and should therefore have more playing time. On International Women's Day. It was lame.

And I know I should be used to the way women are perceived and treated here in Burkina. But I have yet to witness an injustice against women where I don't get pissed off.

Brenda and I are going to continue our girls' soccer club, and we're talking about putting on an end of the school year match. Girls vs. girls, 90 minutes, and I'm inviting the mayor. We may also buy each girl a soccer ball. May all the boys be wildly jealous--but that's only a bonus and not the purpose of the match/giving of soccer balls.

My Close of Service Conference is coming up at the end of the month. We'll discuss how to reintegrate back into our native land. Did you know it was inappropriate to pick your nose in front of people?

I'll also figure out the date when I can COS and return to the land of bacon, ice cream, green chile, air conditioning, toilets, men cooking their own damn meals and cleaning up their messes, etc.

In less than 5 months, the bacon will be mine!

World Map Photos

I find the map and draw a straight line

World Map Project!

It took me four weeks to complete it, but complete it I did with the help of six students at the CEG of Bouroum-Bouroum. And I can't be modest. It's gorgeous.

The wall on the side of the 4eme B building was scraped, measured, and painted ocean blue. Then there was the grid, then the map design, then the paint, followed by labelling and touch-ups. My students and I had a mini celebration with juice and nasty mango and banana cookies (the students enjoyed them). I gave them a thank-you gift for their work on the map: Each student received a big box of chalk and a new pencil/ruler kit.

It was an interesting experience doing this map project. I worked on it practically every day over the past four weeks, and I always had an audience. I had students watch me for hours as I set up the grid. They watched as I erased, drew, painted, stared, cursed, swatted bugs, talked on the phone, mixed paint, nearly fell off the unstable ladder (not the kind you'd find at Home Depot). They were entralled, and here I thought watching me do this would be almost as fun as watching paint dry. Which is exactly what they did. But they certainly were not bored. And the funny thing is that I wasn't bothered by the constant company and chatter going on directly behind me. Perhaps I've become a more patient person! Who would've thought? Or, perhaps I've simply become more adept at blocking out unpleasant things. Well, we'll just call it patience.

I must boast that I'm now skilled at carrying beaucoup de crap while riding my bike. I've been carrying the ladder to and fro my house and the school. There was this one time when I had my backpack full of paint on my back, another bag full of water and juice situated on my chest, my right hand holding up the ladder, and my left on the handlebar. As I was pedaling, the bag full of liquid would slosh from side to side with the movement of my knees. It was awkward, and people stared at me. One little girl followed me on her bike all the way to school, and then turned around and left when I reached the wall. She was a lovely escort.

Now the map is completed. I can remove the paint that's been coating my hands for a month. I also need to make sure that I remove it from any other odd places on my body. A couple of weeks ago I went to Gaoua and another volunteer mentioned that I had blue paint in my ear. It most likely had been there for a day or two. Must do a careful examination. Maybe I managed to get some up my nose, but I'm sure I would've noticed that--crusty paint up there would be uncomfortable.

Aside from the map project, I've just had school and tutoring, tests and grading. I've also started a girls' soccer club with my sitemate. We have about 20-25 girls show up every Sunday and Monday afternoons. I've been teaching them techniques: how to pass, dribble, control the ball. Then they scrimmage against each other and manage not to use any of the skills they were practicing just a moment earlier. It's kind of like watching six-year-olds play. But that's understandable considering they've never had any training. The boys don't play much differently than the girls, except they tend to maintain field positions. Still, for the most part the boys just try to kick the ball as far and as high as they can manage. High-kicks galore, and no one does a proper throw-in. But there's raw talent, and I've noticed that in some of the girls as well. The girls are enjoying themselves, and they get a kick out of the fact that I'm excluding all boys and that the field is reserved solely for them at 15h and 17h every Sunday and Monday, respectively.

I attended a Lobi funeral this past week. They’re kind of interesting. When a Lobi person dies, his or her body is displayed outside of the courtyard, usually under a tree, in view of the mourners for three days (I once attended a Lobi funeral where the deceased was propped up against a tree wearing a U.S. baseball cap). There is constant drumming and the women carry on this crying/singing (and sometimes dancing) for about 24 hours. The singing is actually quite beautiful, except at 3 in the morning when I’m trying to sleep. After the 3 days of singing/dancing/mourning, the body is buried inside the courtyard.

Hope you like the pictures of the map! If I can ever get them all uploaded…

the sheep incident

I have to recount a small piece of yesterday: I live off a dirt road and I was running down said road when I heard the familiar sound of a moto hauling butt, coming in my direction. Unfortunately a sheep was crossing the dirt road (about 15 feet in front of me) at the same moment the moto came charging through. The moto hit the sheep, and the sheep was suddenly airborne, coming right at me. That's right, a flying sheep barreling through the air towards me. I have reflexes like a cat. I jumped off the road into some prickly weeds, and the sheep flew by me. The sheep was unharmed, just badly shaken. He got to his feet, baahed, and walked off somewhere. And the driver of the moto was fine, too. One of his flipflops fell off when he collided with the sheep. But he retrieved it.

Afterwards I thought, well crap. It would've been pathetically tragic if I had met my end at the feet of a flying sheep.

(Pictures below! Marché, making to, living it up in Bouroum-Bouroum)

Marché pictures...finally!

to young and old meek and the bold

Happy Christmas from Burkina Faso! The place where it always feels like summer and there's no air conditioner.

However, I've had the illusion of a cold winter during the nights when I'm nestled in my bed and have visions of sugar plums dancing in my head. It's been cold during the night for the past three weeks or so, and I've been keeping myself warm with two pagnes as sheets and sockies on my feet. And when I'm biking to school a little before 7 in the morning, the breeze makes my toes freeze! But by the time 8 A.M. rolls around, the sweat makes its reappearance. At least it does with me. But most of the Burkinabe are wearing heavy winter jackets, beanies and gloves until 10 A.M. I suppose this is the unofficial "winter" season, though Burkina really only has two seasons: the hot hot hot and the rainy.

In honor of Christmas, I'm reading A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, for the first time. I know I probably should have read it earlier in life (Mom always puts her copy with the lovely cover on the coffee table when we put out the Christmas decorations), but somehow I seemed to keep myself occupied during this glorious season with other choses a faire--like making cookies, wrapping presents, decorating the tree, rewatching the great Christmas cartoons, listening to holiday music, etc. Here in Burkina I'm able to listen to Chirstmas music. But while I'm listening to The Little Drummer Boy and simulataneously yelling at kids to stop sifting through my trash and at those damn goats to stop eating my mango tree, I somehow manage to lose that Christmas feeling.

So now I have A Christmas Carol, courtesy of Kindle. It was a delightful read, and I was impressed how the Disney version (the only version of A Christmas Carol I've known until now) was pretty true to Dickens' original, save for the swapping of humans with farm animals.

Well, the first trimester of school is finished. This year I'm a PP (a Professeur Principal) for one of the ten classes at my school. My responsibilities are as follows: I must calculate the overall grades for this one class, not just in my subject area, and I have to rank the students and figure out which students should not return for the upcoming trimester. I then voice my findings at the conseil, the meeting where students' fates are decided. Dun Dun Dun! I'm also in charge of disciplining the students in this one class, or at least I have to be present at disciplinary meetings. But that hasn't been necessary...yet. Dun dun dun!

Anywho, calculating grades was fun. It would've been even more fun if I had Excel on my computer. As it is, I was cheap and I didn't purchase the Microsoft package when I bought my laptop in August. But I was able to calculate grades and averages using the nifty calculator on my cell phone. I did have to postpone calculations for a few hours when my phone died and I brought it into town to be solar charged. But by golly I got it done!

And I left most of my students in a chipper mood for Noel because they recently received letters from my correspondent in Doylestown, Pennsylvania. Each student who wrote a letter in October received a letter from Madame G.L.'s French students. Most of her students attached pictures of themselves or eye-catching magazine articles. Mom! There were several football attachments, and quite a few Eagles fans! Not surprising considering the location of Doylestown, but splendid nonetheless. And now my Burkinabe students will support the Philadelphia Eagles, even if don't completely understand what American football is. One picture attachment that I found particularly cool was a set of pictures from what I believe to be National Geographic, featuring migration patterns of birds and buffalo. My students were so indescribably happy with the letters they received--I don't think that they could believe their luck. It certainly was something to see.

To receive a letter and a picture from someone in a different country is the ultimate Christmas present to them. How many Americans can say that?
I helped my students decipher the English sections of the letters they received. I had to describe skiing, horsebackriding and cheerleading (they got a kick out of my "woo woo!" impression. I apologize to all the cheerleaders out there) and pizza (they were not impressed with this dish). I also helped them pronounce their correspondents' names and explained that unlike in Burkina, we write and say our prenames before our family names.

I had a hell of a time trying to explain what a park is, though. That one's a stumper. At first my students thought that a "park" meant a "parking lot." Then I said that a park was like a zoo but without the animals, unless you count the screaming kids. That didn't register too well. So I had to go to the basics. I said that a park had grass, trees and flowers. You can go there to sit and relax. There is room to play football, and sometimes there's these contraptions that you can spin around on (merry-go-round) or swoosh back and forth through the air (swings). I lost them after football, but I think they got the general idea.

I had my students write second letters (written in French, a little in English and a little in their local language!) and I am just about to mail them. I also took individual pictures of each of them with my digital camera, which I'll upload and send the link to Robi. Also, with the help of Brenda who will create a diversion, I'm hoping to be able to take some pictures of the Bouroum-Bouroum marche without getting attacked. So I'll be uploading those as well, just so Robi's students can get an idea of what my students' lives are like.

Okay, I'm done for now. I hope everyone is enjoying the holidays and eating lots of delectable delights! Matt, Remus or Nathan: One of you must watch the original version of Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and then you must tell me all about it.

Merry Christmas!