GRITS Heads to Burkina Faso

GRITS2BF No More...

2008-08-28T13:21:00.001-07:00

Hello all. Okay, so it has been a while, and I am guessing that if I even had any fans/loyal readers of this you have all abandoned ship and moved on to the next hot blog. I had a few requests to post at least one "getting re-acclimated" email...so now more than two months of being at home, and watching at least 5 major banks fold, I am bored enough to do that.

I got back on Friday, July 18th thanks to some fancy flight intinerary from Peace Corps. The most ideal thing would have been just to sleep at the airport, because later that afternoon I returned again to fly out to the Morris Family Reunion in Pittsburgh, PA. Once a year my mom's side of the family has a reunion, and it allowed me to see my Mom, brother, sister-in-law, cutest-in-the-world nephew (seriously, no joke), and my extended family. So, culture shock had to be thrown aside as I jet-setted on Jet Blue (SATELLITE TV, yummy snacks, cutely dressed flight attendants....if this is America I LOVE it!). It was a day of family, food, food, more food, a rockin' DJ, and a very fun Chinese Auction. At every family reunion it is a Morris tradition to hold a Chinese Auction, and this year there were a lot of cool things to bid for. As I was browsing the merchandise I spotted a basket full of "smart" books, as they came to be known my me. It has "Collapse," a Mark Twain Biography, and more. All of them were in hard back. I immediately thought to myself..."WOW, we have to win those. We would look so smart having those on our shelf. So, after buying about 150 tickets and scaring anyone away from putting tickets into the bowl for the books, we won the books. Triumphantly I walked up and claimed my prize...oh yes...we are smart...just look at our bookshelves!!! (P.S. at least 2 people have commented on what "smart" books we have...so there!).

After our triumphant return from Pittsburgh it was time for me to settle into our apartment, decorate, enjoy being "home," and look for gainful employment. I put "gainful employment" last on my list because it is the most boring and painful part. Everyone knows the economy is basically in the crapper...so I wasn't overly optimistic about my chances.

I spent my first few weeks at home giving our apartment that female touch. We bought some book shelves, a television stand, made an Ikea run for various accessories. BTW, seriously...LOVE Ikea!!! We took the Ikea Water Taxi, that's right...a boat to Ikea! It was beautiful...especially at 1:30 in the afternoon while I thought about all the schlubs chained to their desks in cubicles (oh...little did I know). Mike even took a week off and we had a "staycation." We lounged around, went on long walks, went to the Natural History Museum, took a car up to Randall's Island and played mini-golf and I learned how to hit golf balls at the range. After about 20 minutes of spinning in circle and continually missing the ball, cursing it out, and then throwing the club in frustration I finally made my first hit...oh how exhilarating!!

After almost a month and a half of pounding the pavement, begging, pleading, name dropping, resume sending, internet searching, crying (alright...just a little), penny pinching, sleeping, Guitar Hero playing, and the like....I finally got the call. It was like being in the minor leagues and then all of a sudden getting a call from the Majors to step up. I hadn't planned on getting back into advertising (I swear!!), but I did take a few meetings in the off chance that I decided I wanted to give it another try. I had a few other opportunities kickin' around, but let's be honest here people...you gotta make those Benjamin's and non-profit work just wasn't in the cards for (not yet anyway). So, after a successful informational interview (I know how to charm them...), I got a job offer at BBDO, a very large but very creative advertising agency. So, here I sit, writing to you from my cubicle in a huge corporate office. Just over two months ago I was sitting in a mud brick hut sleeping 3 hours a day, planting corn in a field, and crapping in a hole...well, sadly, that is no more. No more staph infections (well, actually not true...I am fighting a staph infection for the 2nd time since being home), no more Toh, no more attieke, no more chickens running around in my yard, no more children hugging me while I run...it is all gone, only to be recalled from the recesses of my mind.

I have managed in the two months that I've been home to have 3 Peace Corps reunions with various volunteers that I served with in Burkina. Helen and Nanette came to visit, and I went to Boston and hung out with Minh, Helen, Nanette, and Rose. It has been a pretty amazing time. To say that I feel a bit "out of place" here is understating. People ask me all the time how my experience was, and how do I even sum it up in words...or at least in a sentence or two before they lose interest. I feel like an alien that landed on another planet...or like I know a secret that know one else in the room knows. I don't mean it in a superior way, not at all, just in a "I feel separate" kind of way...I don't even know how to describe it, but I would imagine that anyone reading this that has ever lived abroad would understand immediately.

I am also fighting lingering feelings of loneliness. Although being in NYC puts me in one of the most crowded cities in the world, I have never felt more "alone." In Burkina I was never alone, whether that was with my villagers, or with my fellow volunteers partying in the capital. You were never short of a friend to confide in or get a drink with. Back here in the States I have to book my friends 2 weeks in advance just to make sure that they have the time. It seems so sad to me how isolated people are here. At least I have Mike with me, and that has been my saving grace.

I will tell you one thing that hasn't happened that I thought would...and that is that I haven't gone crazy on Starbucks! I know, right?!?! I thought I would basically be hooking it up intravenously, but (and I swear this is true) I have only gone to Starbucks 4 times in the 2 months that I have been back. Before leaving for the Peace Corps I managed to turn Mike into a coffee addict, so I have been enjoying fresh home-brewed coffee. I guess the difference is that I know I am not going back to Burkina (any time soon anyway), so there is no "rush" to get it all in....honestly, I would trade all of the Starbuck's and flush toilets just to go back to Burkina and see my friends...and I mean that.

Anyhoo, this is rambling and a bit boring, so I say to all of you who have followed this blog, thank you! I hope for anyone new you get a chance to read through my mishaps and triumphs, and that I provide entertainment and insight for you. Thanks for all of the support from anyone who has helped me while I was there, and as always...Stay safe!!!

Nasara Bye-Bye!

2008-07-16T05:34:00.000-07:00

Two years? Two years! Two years. Where does it go? I can remember perfectly the ride with Mike to Philadelphia on September 25th, 2006. I can remember the goodbye, and the crazy leap into the unknown. Burkina Faso? I didn't even know that country existed until I was invited to serve there! How do I put into words how I feel, looking back, almost two years later. I have seen, experienced, and learned in these last two years. It overwhelms me to even think about it.

After an intense 2 months of learning French (although by the time I left training I didn't feel like I knew anything) and culture...of we went! December 1st, 2006 I headed off to Banzon not knowing what it looked like, the language (for the most part), or the people. I was SO scared, but in the Peace Corps you aren't given a lot of time to be scared. You just keep moving forward because that is all you can do. The first few months were hard...people laughed at me and asked me for money. Then, as time went by, the transformation happened. People started calling me by name, and recognizing me as something other than the "toubabou" in village. Slowly friendships began to form, and it is only now, close to 2 years later that I realize the significance and importance of these people in my life. Normally, I am not one to dwell on the past (or sadly all that much on the present). I tend to focus my eyes forward in a planning mode, which for most of my life caused me to miss out on all the wonderful things that were happening to me at the present moment. When I moved from one stage of my life to another I never wasted time on sentimentalities...I just moved forward with excitement. However, I am realizing that Peace Corps has changed that. Leaving my village was the first example of this. As my last few days crept up on me I found myself looking around everywhere and trying to suck it all in. I would tell myself, "Remember this view. Remember this smell (even the bad ones). Remember this moment. Don't let it slip away through the cracks of your memory." Every where I went the thought of it being the "last time" I ever did this would overwhelm me. It got to the point that I could barely walk through my market and greet my friends for fear of breaking down into tears. Here I am with a free ticket back to the "promised land" and all I could think that I wanted was to stay here with them forever. It just didn't seem fair that they stayed while I got to leave. As the day of departure approached my house began to swell with gifts. My friends who have so little had bought me baskets, calabashes, pagnes--and not just for me, but for EVERYONE in my family. I have gifts for my grandma, my brother, my sister, my nephew, my mom, and Mike...and they have only met one of those people in that list. To say that the Burkinabe are a generous people is definitely understating it.

On the last day my friends came over and were shocked to see that I wasn't completely finished packing--yeah, I am still a procrastinator...something Peace Corps didn't manage to change. They all sat in my house while I finished the last of my packing, and I gave out various gifts of things that I couldn't fit in my bag (you would be surprised how popular bra's are...big sellers!). After a couple of hours I announce to everyone, "well, I'm ready. I am just going to shower now, and then I will meet you guys outside." Everyone just stared at me and then my salad lady said, "go ahead. we'll wait here." Okay, my shower is inside...so I had to grab my towel and walk into my bedroom and shower while everyone was waiting outside. AWKWARD! When I came out wrapped in a pagne and a towel on my head they thought I was attempting to dress "African" and all applauded. Where will my applauding audience be when I step out of my shower in New York? Where will my excited children be yelling "bonjour" when I walk into my courtyard? The days of being interesting and different are kind of over...a white girl in New York City doesn't exactly stand out. :-( As I boarded the bus to go to Bobo for the last time a crowd congregated out in front of my house to say goodbye. This time I was smart and wore my sunglasses so people wouldn't see me cry...even though they did...which then started a domino-effect of everyone else crying. It took all my strength not to jump out of the bus and say "I'm just kidding. I'm staying!" But, sadly, that isn't an option for me at this point...and as hard as it is to move forward, and as much as I am resisting it, it is something that must happen.

So, here I sit in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso--where it all began. I look back on these two years of my life in awe. In awe of all the wonderful things I was blessed to have experienced and witnessed. It seems like a dream or some movie of someone else's life...not something that I actually lived through. People ask me how I feel about leaving, how will it be to go from the poorest country in the world to one of the richest...or from a small village to one of the largest cities in the world. Honestly, I am not sure how I will feel about it. Everyone says that I should be happy because I can't get anything and everything my heart desires...but I feel that it doesn't have the same meaning when it is so readily available and in such overwhelming quantities. A glass with ice...or a hot shower...none of that is novel. So I wonder how long it will take for me to fall back into my "American" attitude and begin viewing my life as mundane. I can only hope and pray that these feelings and these lessons stick with me. I want to value every little perk in life, from an ice-cold glass of water to a good coffee (not instant...blech!). Something I think we could all work on a little bit. I am by no means a sage, but the advice I would give to everyone is to (as cliche as it sounds) stop and smell the roses. Stop and be thankful for all that we have (even in our recession) because compared to the rest of the world it is a HELL of a lot.

Alright...I am going to get off my little soapbox of the value of this experience in my life (which, by the way, if you weren't paying attention, is immeasurable!). I am going to try to turn my eyes forward (never forgetting the past), and focus on the next step in my life...New York City, a job, and re-starting the life that I left behind there. For now, I have to focus on doing all my last minute departure stuff and willing myself on that plane. As we leave we have to take language tests to see how far we come, and although language is no broad indicator of how we fared here...I feel like it sort of represents my growth. When I started I was Beginner-Low (you can't go any more down than that) and as I learned yesterday I am Advanced-Mid (one level from the top)...not tooting my own horn or anything, but that is quite an improvement if I say so myself! :-D

I will leave you with one little story (although there are so many that it's difficult to know where to start) that I wrote back in June. Interestingly enough, this story will be published in an anthology "Peace Corps at 50" which will celebrate the 50th Anniversary of the Peace Corps...so I can add published author to my resume...WOO HOO! This by no means encompasses my entire service, but I feel it embodies the idea of getting back to the basics, and that it is these connections that are most important in life. Sadly, I don't know if my friend Brahim will even remember me when he grows up, but I did give him a picture of me and I can only hope that I am given the means to return. Thank you all for following along with me on this two year journey, and I hope that maybe you learned along the way with me. I may update this from the States, but really, what is so interesting about a white girl living in NYC? Thank you to everyone for their love and support, and as always (and for the last time while in Burkina Faso) Stay Safe!

A picture of me and my running buddy, Brahim...he looks scared here, but every time I pulled a camera out he got scared...

The sun peaks through my straw hangar, the thwack of the axe can be heard fro across my courtyard, and the naying of the donkeys signal another day has begun. In Burkina Faso the last thing that I need is an alarm clock. As if set to a timer--even though usually NOTHING runs on time--my village comes to life as the sun peaks over the horizon. The people--and animals--start their day, whether I am ready for them to or not...there is NO snooze button.
I jump out of bed, thankful for the morning coolness as it flows over me, knowing that in 3 hours the sun will beat down and I will have to take refuge for a while from its rays. The mornings have always been my favorite, not only for the gracious breeze and cool air, but for the sounds and sights of my village coming to life.
For me, my mornings are the same. I lace up my shoes, take a gulp of water, and I set off. I pass several of my neigbors, all of whom have been up for hours already preparing breakfast and lunch, washing the children, cleaning the house, and preparing to set off to the fields--it is the rainy season and everyone has a field to tend to. As I run past I wave hello and pass my morning greetings to my neighbors--"Aw ni Sogoma," I shout as I jog by--Good morning in my village's local language of Joula. We rush through the greeting ritual as I pass by. At this point the odd looks have subsided, and most people just know me as the crazy american girl that "faire's le sport." Running is never done unless trying to get away from something, or in playing soccer...and most certainly not done that often by a girl.

I continue on my path through the mango groves which are teeming with ripe mangos. Their scent fills the air and I have to resist ripping one off the tree and eating it right there. I don't know if I will ever be able to buy fruits from a supermarket again. I wave to the villagers and children who are already in the grove, picking the mangos for sale in the market. I pass as the children make their way to school in the morning, carrying their little rice sack backbacks as they bound along. I dodge the various cattle, goats, and pigs along my route, Passing the river, and continuing on into the rice fields. The view is spectacular, and a far cry from 9 months ago when I was staring at the New York skyline from my office window. Oh, how much my life has changed in such a short time.

As amazing as all of this is, it is the end of my run that I look forward to the most. As I crest the hill out of the mango grove the familiar cry pierces the air. There is Brahim, my two-year old neighbor. "Madame! Madame!" he cries as he sees me come over the hill. He darts towards me from his courtyard, his little legs carrying him as fast as he can go. His eyes are lit up, and there is a smile on his face
that could light the world. Normally we shake hands, high five, and I pat him on
the head...but today is different. As he runs up I put my hands out and UP he jumps giving me the biggest little bear hug that he can muster. He has always been so shy to this point, and his affection surprises me. "Bonjour," he says...the only word of French I am sure he knows. He props on my hip and I jog him back to his mother. He pops down to the ground, gives me a hug and then runs back to his house.

I wave goodbye and finish up my run, just a little more energized than the moment before. Happy...content...that his hug is one of the highlights of my day...and something to look forward to every time I crest that hill to make my way home.

To Burkina I say Thank you, Merci, Aw ni ce, Baarka, and Fofo! Quoting the hundreds of children that have probably said this in my service...NASARA BYE-BYE!

Morockin' Around the Clock!

2008-07-11T23:45:00.000-07:00

I am coming to you live from Burkina Faso, having just arrived from our whirlwind Moroccan vacation! I am running on about 3 hours of sleep, so I apologize if this post is bad, random, boring, etc.

I can first open by saying that Morocco is AMAZING! In 7 days we climbed the highest mountain (in North Africa anyway), sailed the shining seas (or at least stared at them), and crossed the scorching deserts (in an air-conditioned train car). Before my friend Rose suggested we go, I had no intention or interest really in visiting Morocco. I had heard different things about it...but I didn't put it at the top of my list. However, after our quick 7 day tour, I am already planning my return trip.

It is impossible to even begin to compare Burkina Faso to Morocco. Everything is different from the landscape, the culture, the people, the food, and the level of development. It is like taking a step in to Europe or Israel. Morocco is crazy and vibrant and alive...and it was an interesting contrast. I think I am having culture shock just coming back to Burkina.

On our first day we headed straight to Marrakesh to get a taste for the bazaars, markets, and lively Moroccan culture. The market streets and alleys wind for miles and we could get lost for hours just walking, staring, eating, drinking coffee, eating some more, and drinking coffee some more (I thought no one could bypass me for coffee intake...but I can't hold a candle to these caffeine-infused Moroccans...you might as well hook me up to a coffee IV to keep up). On our first day in Marrakesh I don't think that we were prepared for the forwardness and abrasiveness of the Moroccans. Within our first 10 minutes walking through the main square
we were accosted by pre-teen henna girls. Before I knew it they had grabbed my hand and were squirting the henna cream in a design and saying "No money, no money! Good luck husband! Henna good luck husband!" Well shoot, if it's no money, and I get good luck in the husband department...SIGN ME UP! Yeah, well, that is until the moment that they finished. "Money. Give Money. WE WANT MONEY!! GIVE ME MONEY!" I tried giving them 10 durhams (a little more than a dollar), but they threw it on the ground in a theatrical display...to which I took it back and said, "fine then. You get nothing." She then gets very close and agrees under her breath to take the money. Me and my friends agreed that the next time they girls tried to attack us we would bitch slap them...little twerps. For the rest of the night we walked around with this ugly smeared henna on our hands, and with the shame of knowing that two 10 year-olds basically held us up. Sadly, this wasn't the only time that we got cheated, hosed, rinsed, etc. for money. Thanks to a pretty horrible deal on a wooden camel...we nicknamed getting ripped off as "getting camelled." Oh well, I think it is the Marrakesh experience.

Here is a picture of the lively market at night. All the stalls are steaming with wonderful foods like snails, meats, couscous and more!

Orange juice stalls are everywhere, and you can get a fresh-squeezed glass of OJ for .40 cents!

Here are Leslie and Rose enjoying what Marrakesh has to offer...cappuccinos and grapes! YUMMY!

Here is a pic of the square lit up with the Mosque tower in the background!

After a wonderful time in Marrakesh shopping and eating and eating and eating some more, we decided to get our fat rear ends in to the mountains for a hike. We took a taxi to this quaint little village called Imlil, which sits at the base of Mount Toubkal, the highest peak in North Africa--around 12,000 feet. Our first mission was to find the hotel, which my friend Leslie had booked for us. She had no idea where it was and as we asked around we kept being pointed up the mountain. Here we are, hauling all of our luggage hiking up the side of a mountain...not even knowing if our hotel was that way or this way. 10 minutes into our hike sweat is pouring down my face, and I proceed to curse Leslie out for her poor choice of accomodations. After asking 5 different people, and walking through various courtyards we come upon a metal door with the hotel name scrawled in chalk across the top. VOILA! Our hotel...way to go Les. Upon entering though, we discovered that we had found quite a gem. All that hiking to get to the top of the cliff paid off as we had amazing views from the balcony. Like most Peace Corps volunteers we came mostly unprepared and me and my friend Rose only had flip-flops. We had no idea that an 8 1/2 hour hike on the highest peak in North Africa laid ahead of us. As we start the hike we pass people in full mountaineering gear...hmmm....and we in Chaco flip-flops. It was a 10k hike both ways...so about 12 miles on some seriously rough terrain in Chaco flip-flops, and aside from a pretty nasty stubbed toe we did pretty well. It is also worth noting...for those that like to get a kick out of bad things happening to people, that I got pooped on twice by the stupid pigeons that fly around on the mountains . TWICE! Someone told me that was good luck...but at the time I don't think I saw it that way.

Here are some pics from the hotel, and one really bad one of my feet (beware!).

Leslie and Rose posing on the porch of our hotel

A picture of the view from our hotel...just beautiful

A picture of my battered feet....and this was just halfway through...pedicure please!

While we were there we met a Peace Corps volunteer that gets the lucky fortune of living in a nearby village in these mountains. I have to say that I was VERY jealous!

After our mountain climbing adventure...which even to now is leaving my calves screaming for mercy, we decided to fit in the last of what Morocco has to offer...the beach. Off we went to what most volunteers in Morocco refer to as the best place in the country, Essaouira (sp?). It is a little fishing village south of Casablanca. It has a huge market (Medina), and fresh fish everywhere. The city itself was beautiful, and the food was amazing (as it always seems to be here)...so we couldn't complain. It gave us all a chance to relax, eat some more, drink even more coffee, and again...eat. Honestly, if one verb had to be used to describe our trip it would be "eat."

After lazing at the beach we hopped an overnight bus to get back to Casablanca so that Rose could get her flight back to the good ol' US of A. Leslie and I hung out for the afternoon exploring the city...which really just consisted of oohing and aahing over all the wonderful things to eat (including McDonald's and KFC!!)...and then eating all of those things...haha! We took a trip to see the 3rd largest Mosque in the world, which was quite a site. It is built right along the water, and it was beautiful to see. After that I convinced Leslie to come with me to "Rick's Cafe" which was built in memory of the movie "Casablanca." We walked in and were greeted by the most luxurious looking restaurant we had ever seen (or maybe we've been in Burkina too long). Here we were in jeans and tops...and we just waltz into this 5 star restaurant. We sit down at the bar and realize that we can't afford anything that is on their menu and we start discussing whether it would be appropriate to split a daquiri. The bartender sees our discussion and offers up wine by the glass, which is much more in our range. As we browse the wine list we glance at the menu and immediately our mouths start to drool. Leslie gives me a look, and I look back at her, and before I know it I am asking the bartender if they take credit cards and we are ordering ourselves a goat cheese and fresh fig salad....and then the roast duck entree...and then another salad. Hahaha! We couldn't help ourselves. It isn't like food like that comes along everyday in Burkina...give me a break! As we ate our fabulous meal the music of Frank Sinatra and Nat King Cole streamed over the restaurat and we really felt like we were transported back to a time of class and sophisitication...that is except when I caught of whiff of how we smelled. It was a great way to end our Moroccan vacation!

All in all we did a lot, saw a lot, drank A LOT of coffee, and ate a HELL of a lot of food. Aside from another onslaught of Staph infection in my foot, it was the best vacation I have been on in a long time! We thankfully made it back to Burkina in one piece..happy and healthy, and that is all you can really ask for.

Alright...well, I will update you guys later as I prepare for my final departure from Burkina Faso...Stay safe!

Just Call Me Farmer Steph...

2008-06-22T06:37:00.000-07:00

Yep, that's right...I am an official "cultivateur" now! I have to be honest, I don't know why I didn't do it sooner, but as the waning days of my service arrive, I am trying to take advantage of "quality time" with my village friends. This past week I took my friend up on his offer to help him cultivate in his fields. During the rainy season the village empties out as people rush to their fields to arrange the dirt and plant the seeds. It surprises them to learn that not every family has a field that they cultivate in every year for their food. I had to break the news to them that most Americans never step foot on a farm, but buy their food from a grocery store. I don't think I have ever even seen a working farm. Anyway, for the sake of demonstration I want you to stand up...that's right, stand up out of that chair. Now, spread your legs a little more than shoulder width apart and bend over at the waste...like you are stretching. Now, find yourself about a 3-5 pound weight (here we call these hand-held hoes, "dabas"). Just swing that weight into the ground...now do that for about, eh, 7-9 hours. Any takers?

I had seen people working in the fields, and said, "Wow, that looks hard. Too bad for them." I now, however, have a new found appreciation for the work that these people do, and in 100+ degree weather no less! Shade? Forget about it. This past week I decided to try my hand at this African farming by helping my friend Joseph arrange his fields in preparation for planting rice. Basically his field is just dried over dirt, so you have to go in with a "daba" by hand and whack at it to loosen it up, and break up the hard chunks. So, off we went Monday morning to his fields. Unfortunately I don't have pictures of me cultivating...I'm sure you would love to get a laugh...but I hope to have some soon as a volunteer is coming to my village and I can put her on camera duty. I was able to take a few on the way to the fields though:

Joseph is up front leading the way on bike, while his kids pull our supplies to the field

Here are Joseph's kids posing with their trusty steed

We arrived at 8:30 and I was gifted my "daba" and off I went to get my first lesson in farming. Within the first 1/2 hour I had blisters on both hands. My back hurt for the first hour, and then it subsided into a dull aching pain. I was determined to hang in there with them, and "pull my weight." At about 11:30 or so Joseph noticed the blisters on my hands, and got a little I don't know what he was thinking, or how bad he thought it was, but he came to my house every day for the rest of the week to check on me. I tried to explain to him that it was nothing, just a blister...but I think he was worried that my hands were broken. After three hours of work he decided that I had worked enough, and we went for a soda. I always feel this need to prove to my villagers that I am equally as capable of physical labor as they are. I think they have it in their head that "white people" (i.e. foreigners), because of their wealth, do not have to do any physical activities, and therefore we are weak. Throughout my time here I have tried to prove otherwise by pulling my own water from the well, washing my own house, running , biking, and now farming. It is nice to see that surprised look on their face when you get down and dirty with them, and participate in these physically difficult parts of their lives. I feel like it garners me a bit of respect. After my first day everyone in village kept asking me about going to the fields, and could they see my hands. Here, the sign of a farmer lays in the feel of his hands. Much like the English Aristocrats...if you had soft hands then you were a wealthy nobleman, and if you had rough and calloused hands then you were a commoner. I am proud to have the hands that show hard work, and that I have gained a bit more acceptance and respect from my friends.

A day later I went to help another friend, Lucienne, plant corn seeds in his field for the upcoming harvest. At this point my back, legs, and shoulders were still aching from my work the day before, but I didn't want to show signs of weakness so I continued on. Lucienne was so excited to have me in his field that he even bought me my very own "daba" to use. Again, it is the same kind of work except you go by row and every few feet you dig a little hole, drop a couple of corn grains in it, and then cover it up. On our first row I was moving at a snails pace, and I think by the time I had a half a row done Lucienne had done 3...but I was learning. We worked from 8 am to 1:30, and then his wife came and brought us lunch. For the farmers in the fields it is the wife's job to prepare lunch and bring it out to them. We had To and Baobob sauce, with some fish. Not the most appetizing thing...especially since his son who was with us stuck his dirty foot in the sauce.. Of course I kept on eating it...come on, I was hungry! The hard part I find with this cultivation thing is that after eating a HUGE lunch (and they expect me to eat a ridiculous amount) you have to go back out there with a full stomach and bend over for another few hours whacking away at the ground. I felt like I was going to lose my lunch on more than one occasion. We even spiced up the work after lunch by having a "Semence Race"...obviously I opted out considering that I am slower than hell, but Lucienne, his wife, and their friend all raced to see who could seed a row fastest...hey, whatever helps the work go by quicker right? Surprisingly, Lucienne's wife won the competition. I told Lucienne that now he has to cook her dinner...hah! We'll see if that happens.

All in all I ventured out into the fields three times this week, and I hope to get a few more days in before I leave. There is something about the accomplishment you feel when you look out on this piece of land and know that you are helping things grow...things that will help them feed their families and make their livings. In all actuality the parts of the the field that I touched will probably go fallow because I'm so clueless, but it made them happy that I came out their and shared in this experience...and I will never look at an ear of corn or a bag of rice the same again.

In between my stint out in the fields I have been chugging along on my girl's camp. We are in the last week, and the closing ceremony is this Saturday. The health group is preparing to teach women how to make enriched porridge flour, and teach them the proper way to breastfeed their babies. Fingers crossed that it goes well. The Commerce group will be selling their chosen products in the market here. We have decided on Popcorn, Peanut Brittle (surprisingly easy to make...if I am not making it that is), and Omelet/Meat Sandwiched. It is a pretty ambitious list, and I will try to fill you in on how it goes. On Tuesday the girl's came over to do a trial run of all the products just to make sure the taste and packaging would work. I put my gas stove outside and we started with the Peanut Brittle. To make the brittle you just melt sugar in to a "caramel" like substance then pour it on a plastic sheet with peanuts. I was certain that I knew how to do it, so I start pouring the sugar in the pot, and starting to heat it up. In the background I can hear one of the girls weakly saying that she has made it before and she does it a different way, but of course in my "American" manner of being the adult and always being right, I ignore her. By the end my pot is covered with little chunks of hardened sugar, and it looks nothing like the caramel I was supposed to get. I turn to her and admit my blatantly obvious failure and ask her if she would help me. Within minutes we have gorgeous bubbling caramel in a pan, and I felt like a complete idiot. I had learned a valuable lesson...one that I have learned many a time here, but never really took notice of. I think in our "American" culture we always think we know the "right" or "correct" way to do things, and any deviation from that course sets of alerts in our heads. In the Burkinabe culture it is the same thing...always stirring counterclockwise, making sauces in the exact same order, writing the same, etc. I was just so unwilling to admit that maybe her way was better, so I continued down my path until I had sugar water. I don't know why something as insignificant like making caramel really set off an alarm in my head, but I realized just how closed I am to different ways of doing things. I imagine a lot of us are like that. If someone prepares food different from the way we were taught we grimace a little bit...but who's to say that their way isn't better than ours. I think there is a lot to be gained culturally and in many more ways by trying to remind ourselves to be a bit more open to new and different manners of accomplishing a task. Okay...enough lecturing...class dismissed.

I have talked a lot about the perks of being the foreigner in my village. One of them is having small children come by my house and hang out and offer to do any number of cleaning or housekeeping activities:

"Est-ce-qu'on peut balayer?" - Can we sweep?
"Est-ce-qu'on peut laver vos plats?" - Can we wash your plates?
"Est-ce-qu'on peut laver votre maison?" - Can we wash your house?
"Est-ce-qu'on peut cherche de l'eau?" - Can we get water?

Because I live in a closed off courtyard it isn't as often as some volunteers, but lately I seem to be pretty popular in this regard, and I don't really mind. I wonder if when I go back to New York City if little children will stop by our apartment and ask to do our dishes or clean our house? Can I hope to have children cheer for me every time I walk in to our building yelling "BONJOUR MADAME!" and scrambling to shake my hand? I have been a way for quite a while...but somehow I doubt that. Anyway, so these three little girls in the picture below have started making a habit of coming to my house every morning and every afternoon (which to be honest is a bit annoying at this point considering that when I have nothing for them to do they just stare into my house and ask for drinking water every 5 minutes. Anyway, so I started to feel bad about them sitting out there all alone so I dug through my Mom's bag of goodies (a huge bag of gifts that I have refused up to this point to hand out), and found these arithmetic flash cards. I pulled out the addition and subtraction and held an informal math lesson in my courtyard. It turned out to be a lot of fun, and at the end I gave them these little balls that when you put them in warm water they make rags...have you seen those little expanding things? They LOVE them here! It is funny to watch their faces as the balls expand in the water to create these wash clothes. Here are the girls with their newly won prizes:

They earned it considering that right afterwards the swept my courtyard and my house, washed my floors, and did my dishes--and no, that's not child labor...that is "Afrique."

Well, it's time for me to run my last few errands and head back one last time to village. The next time you see a post it will be when I am passing through Bobo with all of the junk I have collected these last two years, and trying to stuff my life here into 2 bags. Shoot, y'all all now how I pack...this is going to be quite a challenge. On July 5th I will be off to Morocco for a week, and then back to Ouaga on the 14th to do my closing paperwork.

Also, just for good measure, is anyone interested in taking in a gorgeous African cat? Unfortunately Mike has put his foot down on me bringing back my wonderful cat, Shea, to live with us. So, if anyone is interested and could pick him up in NYC, let me know, and I will see what I can do about getting him back. Here is a pic of my little beauty:

See you all soon, and stay safe!

Move over Carrie Bradshaw...there's a new fashion icon in town!

2008-06-08T08:19:00.000-07:00

Hey there loyal readers and friends. I just realized that it has been quite a long time since I last updated my blog, and so I thought I would finally let you know that YES, I am still alive!

Through the marvels of my Worldspace Satellite radio I feel like I haven't missed a beat on what has been going on back home. Hillary conceded her presidential campaign, China is recovering from earthquakes, and American idol ended. Of course it seems the biggest news of late has been the release of the "Sex and the City" film. I have to be honest, when I learned of the prospect of this movie I kinda thought to myself..."OH NO, BAD IDEA!" Yet, from what I hear the movie is pretty good. Unlike Carrie Bradshaw, or really anyone on Sex and the City, I have NEVER been considered a fashionable or fashion-concious person. I am like Andy, the main character from "Devil Wears Prada." I care enough about my appearance not to want to look like crap...just not enough to spend the money and time to not look like crap. Honestly, just like in the movie...my idea of couture is shopping at Club Monaco and Banana Republic. Yeah...I'll admit it...I am still wearing clothes that I had in high school (yep Mom, those khaki shorts you hate and tried to throw away...I found 'em and I still got 'em!). Maybe what my style would be considered is classic chic, or not even chic...just classic. Anyway, as I have recently learned however, I am on the breaking cusp of fashion in Banzon, Burkina Faso. Oh yes, ladies and gentleman, I am a fashion icon to the over 4,000 women that live in my African village. I broke the taboo of women wearing pants, and watch out because the baby doll T-shirt trend is catching like wildfire. Most recently, I have started a run on a brand of flip-flop. I was recently browsing at my friend's boutique for a new pair of shower sandals. I saw a cute bright pink pair. In the United States I wouldn't be caught dead in these, but after 2 years living in the African bush, they kind of appealed to me. In going to purchase them he told me, "you don't want those, they won't last." Of course, I ignore him thinking, "well, I only have a month left so as long as they can last that long." I put on my new purchase and go strolling through the market to give my greetings to the various ladies that I hang out with. Along the way I get a variety of comments on my flip-fops. The next day I go back to Lucienne and I show him the shoes--after one day of wearing them they were already breaking apart. "I told you that would happen," he says. Once again I am humbled by his knowledge and my stubbornness to never listen. He then tells me that just that morning 4 women had approached him and asked for the same shoes as the "toubabou" (white lady) was wearing. He told them that they wouldn't last, and not to waste their money, but they insisted on getting the shoes. WOW...in one day I incited a run on hot pink rubber flip flops! I feel like a real trendsetter already! Once again, my celebrity status stuns me...I feel like Paris Hilton, except without millions of dollars and a sex tape on the internet. Hmmm...will my trendsetting ways continue back in the US....maybe my return to the US will cause a huge run on african pagne complets. We'll see now won't we...maybe I will turn up on the catwalks at NYC Fashion week next year. Just to give you a sampling of some trends...here is a pic of my rockin' new flips, and a picture of me in a pagne complet. If we get the word out now we might start the trend before I even get back.

Pretty sweet huh? Bet you wish you could get you a pair of these...and only $1 at any local Banzon boutique!

Aren't you just green with jealousy?! You can only dream of having one of these outfits.

Outside of my busy schedule or club-hopping, trendsetting, and being a village socialite, things here have been just as busy as always. I am trying to eek every bit of experience that I can out of being here before I ship off back to the United States in July. I am currently conducting a 4-week long Girl's Empowerment Camp with 12 local middle school girls--a project that I did last year as well. We are working on projects in the fields of health and commerce, and although we got off to a rocky start, things seem to be going really well. It's difficult here because the girls are always so shy and afraid to speak, and it can take what seems like an eternity to get them to voice themselves. I was really impressed in the last few days as we broached some pretty "taboo" topics such as female excision (the cutting of the clitoris...sorry for such a raw usage of genital vocabulary, but that is what they do to 90% of women here), birth control, sex, and HIV/AIDS. I was so proud to see them getting really involved and engaged in the topics, and asking tons of questions to the nurse (a male nurse no less...of whom I pleasantly declined a male condom demonstration...hah!). For the business group we are currently working on marketing, accounting, and feasability studies for businesses. My hope is that they open a pizza parlor (oohh...maybe a Domino's chain)...but more than likely it will be some fruit-filled dough thing...oh well, a girl can dream can't she.

I will be finishing up with that in the next few weeks, and then it is just a few days before I pack my bags and head off to Morocco and then the United States. I can not tell you how hard it is for me to imagine my life back in America. For so long my reality has been pooping in a hole, bathing with a bucket and a cup, shopping in open air farmers markets, riding my bike everywhere, wearing stinky nasty clothes (and being okay with it), reading by candlelight, sleeping under a mosquito net, running through mango groves, and so much more. And, all that is about to change in such a dramatic way...and aside from a possible visit, I can not go back to this life that I have made here. That is something, that as my time here dwindles, I am feeling more and more nostalgic about. I look at landscapes or people and I have to close my eyes and try to record that image for later. I want to drink it all in, and be able to draw upon it when I am at my most frustrated in America. What did it look like...What did it smell like (yeah...even the bad smells)...how can you hold that all inside of you forever.

Anyways, enough of that sad talk. I am hanging out here with some of my rockin' neighbors Leslie and Audrey, and we are getting some much needed rest from being in village. I am just going to enjoy my last few weeks here. Hope you are all well...see you soon...and as always, stay safe!

Attieke? No thank you!

2008-05-02T23:59:00.000-07:00

I am reporting to you after a site visit to another volunteer, Rose. Rose used to be a volunteer in Guinea...remember Guinea? The place that I was supposed to go in January 2006, but I turned it down because it didn't feel right. Anyway, after political upheavals there they moved a few of the volunteers to Burkina to finish out their service. So...after she so graciously visited me to do a world map in my school, I hitched it up to Satiri to help her with her world map...a rather large 2 m x 4 m endeavor on the side of the school. It was an eventful trip, including my SECOND only vomiting experience in this country...which is quite a feat I think. Upon arrival in Satiri it is obvious that it isn't the "bustling Metropolis" that is Banzon. Our food options are limited to beignets, REALLY salty rice and peanut sauce, and attieke (MY FAVE!). So, of course I chow down on a bowl of attieke (pronounced: uh-check-ay, made from fermented manioc) and some fried fish heads...YUMMY! Things were going great...I was feeling pretty good about the food. It was a little crunchy, and the oil had more of a black color as opposed to the lovely golden brown we are used to. But, hey, it's Burkina...I have seen worse. We eat our meal and head back to her house for a little afternoon nap. As we are walking over to finish drawing the grid lines on the world map I start to feel a bit woozy. Being that I rarely throw up, I almost never recognize the signs when it's about to happen. I attempt to help with the work, but finally give up and we commission a small child to show me back to Rose's house while she continues on the map. We start walking and already I know something isn't right. My mouth starts to water like crazy and I know what's about to happen. We walk past this large group of men sitting around drinking tea and doing pretty much nothing. They enthusiastically greet me and start yelling, "hey, toubabou, hey...how are you? Where are you going? What are you doing?" Well...in t-minus 2 seconds I was heading for the ground...and as for what I was doing...well, puking my guts out while they just stood there and watched. I heard them talking in Jula to one another, "hey...look, the white girl is throwing up." The whole time I am thinking, "hey, where is that Burkina hospitality...get over her and help me!" At this point I have created a Jackson Pollock painting on the ground, but I catch my breath enough to tell someone to fetch Rose. Truly, after that I felt perfectly fine, and the rest of the week went wonderfully. I just had to avoid the one thing I actually enjoyed eating for the rest of the week. That night as I was talking to Rose about the whole thing we both agreed that while in Africa you can always say, "well, it could have been worse." I could have had it coming out of both ends in front of all those people, I could have still be throwing up, I could have had wrenching pain...but I didn't. Eh, it's not so bad, and it could always be worse. NEXT!

After 2 days of drawing and painting with the kids, and then a whole other day to fix everything the kids did, we finished. VICTORIOUS! These projects are really hard, but the buzz that it creates in the village, and the discussion it starts on geography is pretty wonderful. Most people don't know what the rest of the world looks like, what a continent is, where they are in relation to other places...and this map is a perfect tool to remedy that.

Alright, well, here are some pics of our world map, and also of some footage I shot of her teaching at the local middle school. After my experience seeing her teach I now know why I am a business volunteer...no way in HELL could I deal with these crazy kiddies who are packed 125 to a class!

Here is where we started...a large blank canvas

Then the kids started drawing the countries using our grid system

After that, the painting begins...and so does the stress! These kids are crazy when you put a paintbrush in their hands.

The painting continues, and people (and cows) look on
Okay...I just thought this picture was cute. Here are some of the many little kids that sat and watched us draw/paint for 3 days

Here is Rose...this is the day we had to go back and re-draw, re-paint, and re-fix...

Rose and I with the finished product...FINALLY DONE! Voila!

Here is Rose teaching geometry to 125 students...do you ever remember calling the teacher like this? A little eager are we?

Also, thanks to the convincing words of both Rose and Mike I have booked a trip to Morocco in July...not that I can really afford it. But, in the words of Mike, "Life is for living right? You gotta seize the moment!" Well said good sir! We are heading out July 5th to spend a week boppin' around Morocco.

Soon after I will be hoppin' on a plane to head back the US of freakin' A...for good (or at least for the foreseeable future). That's right ladies and gentlemen...it looks like I will be heading back home in July. I have two more months left of time here, and it is a bitter sweet last few months. To love a place so much, but to want to leave it...it's a hard thing to rationalize in your head.

Anyway, I am in Bobo for a day or two, and then headed back to village on Sunday. Back to the grind...it's that time of year AGAIN for my girl's camp, and I have got a LOT of organizing to do to have it ready to roll in June. Hope all is well there...I'm just here trying to stay cool, which is quite a task. See you all soon! Stay safe!

My 15-Minutes (or actually 24-months) of Fame...

2008-04-16T10:27:00.000-07:00

Celebrity, Fame, Recognition...all the most sought after and revered things in American culture...and all I had to do was join the Peace Corps to get a taste of what that's like. In an African country it goes without saying that being the only white person in my village makes me stand out a little. There is no hiding from the prying eyes and curiosity of villagers. From going to dump my trash (which they then sort through and take their faves...tuna cans seem to be the big prize), to buying rice and sauce in the local language, walking, cleaning my house, eating with my left hand (I'm left-handed and that is a major NO NO in this culture)...it's all fair game to them and they have no qualms about staring, yelling, taunting, touching (yes...they sometimes just poke me to see what happens...Pillsbury Dough Boy ain't got nothing on me), shaking my hand, and more. When I first arrived in Africa close to 2 years ago it was a novel and rather interesting occurence. Who thought little old me could garner such crazy attention. I am like the Angelina Jolie (looks aside...except for that one time when I ate a mango and got an allergic reaction that caused my lips to swell up just like our lovely Angie...not my shining moment) of Africa. What I have found most interesting is how intoxicating, yet at the same time daunting, "celebrity" can be...even in Africa. My status as the "toubabou" or foreigner in the community provides me some pretty interesting privileges. I am always invited to local events and I get a chair in the shade! I get to cut the line for food, I get the choicest bits of fish head and cow liver, little kids always offer to carry my bags home from the market, they sweep my house, and even come by my house to say hello and ask to do my dishes--now that is something I could get use to!! No matter where I am if I want a coke, beer, food, bread, whatever...I just stop a passing child and give them money to go fetch what I want (don't think poorly of me...it's just the custom here). Off they run, no matter what their previous plans were, and they bring back exactly what I asked for. Can you imagine doing that in the States? "Excuse me little child, could you get me a Coke from the corner store?" Aside from screaming for the police, or just taking your money and leaving for good I highly doubt you would ever get that Coke. It is scary how easily you fall in to this trap of "entitlement." When I went home for my visit in the States I was appalled if I didn't get what I wanted..."What?!?! No caramel macchiatto...how dare you do that to me. Do you know who I am?!?!" Well, in the States one 25 year old white girl is no novelty...darn! It definitely has it's perks, that is for certain, but every upside has a downside...and mine is absolute lack of anonymity. I can't go anywhere or do anything without a posse of people following me, talking about me in a language I don't fully understand, laughing, staring, and poking. It grates on you after a while. All I want to do is go sit somewhere, but even that becomes a chore. 20 kids follow me and then sit 3 feet away and just stare...it's hard to feel like a museum exhibit, and it's hard to be constantly laughed at--even if it's not meant maliciously. Occasionally I get phone calls from home while I am sitting in my market...by the end of my 5 minute phone call I can have an audience of 30 people just staring and listening to me talk the "toubaboukan" language. If I try to text message I can turn around and see 5 people watching my every move. Any amount of privacy that I ever had went out the window once I moved to my village...I can't burn my garbage, wash my clothes, or even go to the bathroom without half my village knowing about it. My experience makes me feel bad for even Britney Spears (well sort of...I don't make millions of dollars...) I have found myself looking for new bike routes that allow me to bypass certain houses. What's funny though, about this whole "celebrity" thing, is that on the one hand you get tired of the annoyances of constantly being recognized and harrassed. But, there is an upside to my "celebrity" lifestyle here...I get pretty much whatever I want whenever I want it. If I want trees planted in my courtyard, or someone to come and fix my leaky roof, all I need do is ask and I shall receive. The other day I was in someone's courtyard and I saw that he had this really cute sign, in Burkina fashion I said, "hey, that's really nice. I want that." Normally Burkinabe say that knowing that the other person isn't going to give it to them. It is meant as more of a compliment. But, for me the "toubabou" within 2 minutes it was strapped to my bike and I couldn't make him take it back. Here is a picture of that fabulous sign now hanging in my house:

Last week I ran into the Principal of the middle school and he asked that I come to the school tomorrow for a meeting with a women's group that wants to work with young girls on empowerment and sexual education. Great! I love the theme...that is until I walked in to the school the next day to realize that it wasn't just a meeting. There were 200 girls piled into the classroom waiting for my class on Sexual Education and Behavior...WHAT?!?! If my experience here has taught me anything it was to do things on the fly...so off we went. By the end of the class, and by talking with the women I learned something really interesting. Elementally, at our most basic level, we are all the same. The director and the women start going off about how students don't respect their elders anymore, it isn't like it was years ago, and that there should be more pressure put on the parents at home to instill good values in their children. "What can school teachers do if the parents don't enforce rules and teach morals?" Does that sound like a familiar discussion? Girls are running around after boys, and vice versa, and they are ending up pregnant. This year out of 100 girls there are 5 pregnancies. A rather astounding proportion. My Burkinabe counterparts were surprised when I told them how interesting I thought this discussion was, and that it mirrored EXACTLY the debates that we were having in the States (role of school and family, etc.). No matter where you are, no matter what your status in the world, we all suffer the same trials and tribulations in the same way...even if the setting is different.

As a sidenote, I thought I would include some recent photos I took in my village...Enjoy!

Some hippos who came a little close to the shore

Here are some little kids that came to watch us make Enriched Porridge Flour. The little one in the front HATES me...moments later she ran away screaming!

Zalissa and another group member holding up the finished product! Baga Mugu (Enriched Flour).

A picture of one of the literacy classes that my organization sponsored this year. With these classes over 20o men and women learned to read and write in their local language.

The women performing the theater sketch for World Malaria Day/Global Youth Service Day

The two little girls who were in the sketch...don't ask me about the powder...I have no idea

Here is our villain...the Mosquito (Moustique in French, and Soso in Joula)

Anyway, I guess that's all for now. I am headed to my friends village to draw and paint a World Map. Hope all are well...miss you all, and stay safe!

Miracles happen...

2008-03-29T23:15:00.000-07:00

Hello all! In my last post I mentioned briefly about my bag getting stolen...so I thought for the sake of your curiosity that I would elaborate on that, and let you know is going on.

On Saturday, March 15th my mom and I were in OHG visiting my host family. It was an amazing visit all around, and really great for my mom to have an opportunity to meet with the family that she has been talking with for some time. We got up bright eyed and busy tailed to make it to the bus station to take the 9:00 bus. All was calm, all was bright. When we got to the gare there was a mad dash to reserve seats, and getting caught up in the frenzy (picture Wal-Mart the day after Thanksgiving) I joined in the sprint to claim a good seat. I had my backpack and a water bottle, and I reserved two seats at the back of the bus (let the record show, that it did cross my mind that it wasn't a good idea). I exited and stood right in front chatting with my mom and my host mom. Another volunteer showed up to take the same bus to go to Ouaga, and I told him to reserve his seat next to mine. At 8:55 the driver told everyone to load up, and as I got on the bus I noticed something missing...most notably my bright yellow bag. At first, unable to believe that this happened I assume someone moved it. I start frantically searching the bus, as I yell in a high-pitched voice, "ma sac, ma sac!!!!! C'est pas ici!!!"(my bag, my bag! It isn't here"). The bus is packed to the gills and is ready to pull out. I run outside to tell my host mom and the people working at the station. My poor Mom is just standing there, not understanding anything, and all she sees is her daughter running around like a banshee. I think at some point she may have started to cry. After a good 2 minutes of running around (like a chicken with it's head cut off), I just stopped. No amount of running around or yelling was going to get the bag back. Although, I will admit I did a good amount of threatening.

After a thorough look around the station, which included having everyone get off the bus and searching the bus again, we loaded up and the bus went to the police station. I didn't really want to report it, because in my mind there was nothing that could be done...and I (wrongly, I might add) assumed that the police weren't going to do anything (I am thinking back to my identity theft incident in NYC...geeze those cops were useless). I fill out a report and tell them what was in the bag, and I watch as their faces light up either with joy at the possibility of raiding my sack when they find it and giving it back to me empty ("sorry ma'am...they took it all"), or because they thought I was collossally stupid for having all that stuff in one bag. All the while my poor host mom, Ami, is outside crying her eyes out. She is so upset that the trip with my Mom went so well, but now my Mom would hate Burkina because of this. I tried to comfort her, and I told her really it was my fault for putting all my valuables in one place. As we board the bus to go back to Ouaga they vow to continue the tireless search for my valuables...and honestly in my head, I was like, "good luck" and didn't leave with much hope. The only shining ray of hope was that upon arrival in Ouaga, I discovered that I had the power cord to the laptop, and that the laptop was close to dead on power (thanks to a "Friday Night Light's marathon the night before...love that show!!).

Now, many ask me, "Stephanie, why keep your 2 passports, birth certificate, social security card, driver's license, credit cards, 2 iPod's, laptop computer, and your lucky hat in the same bag? That doesn't seem smart does it?" Well folks.....no it isn't smart...pretty stupid actually. So I don't really have a good response to that. Anyhoo, on with the story.

I stay in touch with my host family, and learn that they are going around to all the cyber cafe's to let people know about it, and they even put out a radio announcement about my bag. A week and a half later I am still in Ouaga working on training stuff with the new volunteers when I get a call. The most magical words I have ever heard come out of my host dad's mouth..."Stephanie, we found your bag!" WHAT?!?! In a city of over 300,000 people you found my bag?!?! With everything in it?!?! Oh yes! Truly, joy can not describe what I felt at that moment. Relief, gratefulness....it was amazing. As it turns out, 2 kids heard my radio announcement, and when they saw the kid with my iPod they called the station. Additionally, a teacher at the local high school had been informed about the laptop with missing cord, and saw two kids with my computer walking around looking for a power cord. When the teacher saw them, he stopped them and questioned them about it. They didn't have any good answers, so the teacher took their name, and called the police. Truly, it was a joint effort...a community effort...that I don't think would happen in the States. I had lost all hope of finding that bag, but it is amazing what can be done if a community pulls together, and I can't thank my host family enough for their help! If it wasn't for them there is no way I would have found that backpack, and I still can't believe that they really did. Wow! Oddly enough, all my valuables were in the bag, but all the small cheap stuff was missing. All the cases to my electronics were gone; my wallet contents were in there, but not my wallet; my favorite Pink Auburn hat; my mom's Burkina Survival Kit (you will be happy to know that the kids used all of the hand sanitizer and left the empty bottle in the bag...so at least they were clean); and a few other little trinkets. The bulk of the stuff I got back though. The kid who stole it was 17 years old, and evidently had followed me on the bus, and gotten off shortly after me. Since I wasn't in Ouahigouya when they found the bag I can't tell you what his consequences were, or what happened with him (a lot of people are asking me if he got his hands cut off...and honestly I don't know...although I did ask them not to physically abuse him--for what that's worth anyway).

After that, my week really couldn't get much better, but for the sake of fueling a "laugh at Stephanie" post...I have another fun story to tell you. After returning from Ouahigouya we spent the next week and a half in Ouaga. Myself and another volunteer, Ryan, decided to have a "Make Your Own Pizza" party, and it just so happens that our new country director has a pretty sweet wood burning pizza oven. In an effort to recapture my Romano's Macaroni Grill days I offer to be the pizza chef. Firs things first though...I need my equipment...mainly one of those gigantic pizza spatulas to get the pizza in and out of the oven. In Burkina you can pretty much have anything made...so by the next day I had commissioned a metal worker to build it for me. He called me that evening to come and pick it up, so I hop on my bike and head out. As I am riding the power cuts out on the road, and unfortunately for me I don't have a bike light. I turn off the road at the metal worker's little shack as I bike up to his door. I start to hear some man yell, "Attention! Attention!" and all I I have time to say is "Attention to what?" There are water drainage ditches all along the road for runoff rain water, and most of the time they are covered....except this one. There was only one little bridge to get across, and well, I missed that bridge. My bike launches into the ditch and the whole thing flips over (and me along with it). I slam into the concrete edge of the ditch (and I have massive leg bruises to prove it). All I remember hearing is a collective "OOOAAAHHH!" from the surrounding Burkinabe, and other than the person that came to help me up, everyone else just laughed. I try to pop up quickly, because aside from the pain I am just embarrassed. The guy keeps asking me, "I told you attention, why didn't you stop? There is a hole there." REALLY?!?! A hole? NO!!! At least he could have said, "STOP" or "HOLE!" But no, he just said "attention" like he was trying to cat call me...so of course I ignored him. I tried to brush myself off as quickly as I could, and act as brave as I could. Honestly, I was pretty lucky that it wasn't worse...no head injuries...so that's good. Aside from a bit of embarrassment, and a lovely purple and blue line across my thighs, the only thing that got hurt was my ego.

Well, those are all the good stories that I have for you today. I am heading back to village for a few days to get things rolling on my school garden, and then back to Ouaga for the weekend to attend the COS party. After that, I am village bound until this school garden is constructed! I hope all is well out there, and I will talk to you all soon. Stay cool, and stay safe!

Back to Normal...and the HEAT!

2008-03-20T06:21:00.000-07:00

It seems that just as soon as my mom touched down on Burkina soil that I was escorting her to the airport to say goodbye. Two weeks passed by in quite a blur, and it was sad to see her go. Although, even she would admit that she was pretty ready to get back to civilization. Heat, dirt, dirt, and more dirt were just some of the elements that she had to deal with. God bless her and her patience with all the various difficulties that come with living here...including all days being at least 103 degrees or more.

In an effort to collapse our trip into one readable blog, I will a few of Mom's Burkina Moments:

Arriving at 3 a.m. and sleeping until noon the next day. We got a lot done that day!

Asking me EVERY TIME we ate, whether I thought what we were eating was "safe to eat." Then, refusing to use any glasses for fear of water contamination. Maybe I should have bought her a hazmat suit?

Watching 20 men push start our bus to get to Banfora, mom taking a picture, and then being accosted by those 20 men to pay for the picture we had just taken.

The look on Mom's face as our taxi pulled up to take us off-roading. Okay, granted the doors were about to fall off, and he had a rubber mat on the floor to cover the holes with which a foot could fall through. But, still, it was a trusty machine that got us from A to B...even if Mom didn't think it would.

The look on Mom's face when I showed her the bathroom/shower, and she looked puzzled as the shower head was right over the toilet...yeah...well at least you can pee and shower at the same time.

Mom running and screaming as the bat that decided to take residence in my house then decided to fly around the room. I swear if flew right at me! Even better...the look on Mom's face when the 11 year old boy in my courtyard attempted to kill it with a corn stalk. The bat ended up getting caught in spider webs near the ceiling of my house (I knew there was a reason I didn't clean those things out).

The curse of NO ANIMALS (aside from our bat incident I guess) - all Mom wanted to do was see some animals, and it seemed we were thwarted in every way. The game parks did not call us back to make reservations. The hippos (who are always at the same place in the river in my village) deciding to migrate downstream for the week. The DISASTER that was Boromo (including being stuck in the mud for 20 minutes and me getting covered in mud from the flying tires) and seeing TONS of elephant poop but alas no elephants. We didn't even get to see the pet monkey in my village. This trip was definitely devoid of all things "animal"."Wasn't meant to be mama!

Sadly, getting my bag stolen off the STAF bus on the way from visiting my host family in Ouahigouya. Unfortunately, there were a whole lot of expensive items in there that I won't mention...mostly to save myself the embarrassment of being thought stupid...

There were a lot of funny moments, some frustrating ones, and even a few scary ones...but over all I can not say how much it meant to me that she came. No one can understand what it is like here unless they come--and I think she would attest to this. There is no way to even imagine it in your head until you come here and see what my life is like...up close and personal. I am grateful that I had at least one person do that...someone I could talk to about it and they would understand. So, THANKS MOM!!

So, her time expired and here I am adjusting back to my normal life. I am in Ouaga for the next couple weeks working with the new volunteers on some training things. I am also working to organize the big blowout COS Party. It is a party held twice a year to say goodbye to those people who have completed their 2 year service. It is a day of events, and has definitely been a handful to organize.

On a good note, last January I applied for this grant from Disney called the Disney Minnie Grant. They give grants to organizations that are organizing events around Global Youth Service Day, April 25-27. I applied to get funding for my school garden that I am hoping to establish at my local middle school. I was under a hell of a crunch to get the application in and filled it out in a day (it was a 10 page application!!!). A few days ago I got the email and.........................I GOT IT!! Woo hoo! It is a $500 grant that will help me buy all the necessary equipment to really get this garden started. On April 25th we are going to have the inaugural planting of the garden, compost demonstrations (taught by students), health classes (taught by the students), and much more. I am really excited about this project, and a little scared because of the time crunch. But, I am just going to hit the ground running and get this thing together. The potential of this project to really benefit the kids is huge...SO YAY YAY YAY!!

The seasons are changing, the rain is coming months too early (thank you Global Warming), the air is stifingly hot...the hot season is fully upon us. There are tough times ahead...hope you are all staying warm there, while I try to stay cool here. I will keep you updated...stay close!

Mom's Burkina Adventure Update!

2008-03-13T10:30:00.000-07:00

Hello all! Well, I am just checking in as we do the Burkina Tour 2008 with my mama! Don't worry everyone...she is fine, happy, and (luckily) healthy! We had an amazing time touring Banfora, hanging out in my village for the March 8th Women's Day celebration, and although our elephant hunt was a bit of a bust (more on that later)...we are having a blast.

We are currently visiting my host family in Ouahigouya, and on Saturday we will continue to Ouaga for her to fly out. It has been an amazing trip. There have been adventures for sure, but I am sure she will be coming home with a lot of fun memories. I will elaborate on our trip later. For now, here is a little slideshow of our trip thus far. Stay Safe!

The Eagle Has Landed!

2008-03-02T01:18:00.000-08:00

Finally! After all the planning and organizing my Mom has touched down in Burkina Faso! I wasn't sure if it was even going to happen...what with all the riots, and almost canceled flight in Paris, and everything...but she persevered and at 3:30 am she walked out of that airport. So, for all of you who are worried about her, or wondering if she got in...she's here, happy, and healthy (so far).

My life is so drastically different and separate from my life back home, so to see a piece of my life at home show up here is a bit surreal. I am excited, however, to introduce her to the life that I have been living this past year and a half. I am excited to have someone truly understand what I mean when I talk about heat, people, annoying animals, adorable kids, pooping in a hole, etc. There is only so much that you can convey through words and pictures, and so much of this experience can only come through seeing and feeling...so I am SO happy that someone will be here to experience it and join in it with me.

Our itinerary is pretty loose. We may go to one of the animal reserves to see some cool animals, and then after that we are headed to my village for the March 8th, International Women's Day celebrations--Question: Why doesn't the US celebrate this holiday as well? It is a HUGE holiday here, and I am told others around the world celebrate it as well. It seems odd that the "greatest country on earth," doesn't honor the women that brought it there...anyhoo...

Alright, well, I just wanted to let everyone know that Mom got in okay. The adventure begins!!! Stay safe!

Who said Africa wasn't exciting???

2008-02-22T01:15:00.000-08:00

Hello all! Gosh, what an eventful last few days this has been! I have been preparing for the arrival of my mom, but as we all know at this point, plans in Africa don't always work out like you would like them.

Last week was a whole lot of fun as several of my friends and I came up to Ouaga to play in the SOFANWET (get your mind out of the gutter...it means Softball Fanatics Weekend Tournament) tournament. I will be the first to admit that softball isn't my strong suit...but I like playing pretty much any sport whether I am good or not. We had about 15 people come up to play, a healthy sized cheering section, cold beer, pizza, sloppy joes, and donuts, so I was in absolute "American" heaven. I ended up being pitcher because, well, my only skill in softball is being able to lob it relatively accurately underhanded...and it seemed more fun then being catcher (plus, there is no way I will put my face near a swinging metal object). Even though we didn't exactly dominate the social bracket of the tournament--between you and me we got our asses kicked by a bunch of 10-14 year olds from the local middle school--we did manage to win 2 out of 4 games, and I think we came in 4th place (out of 6...hehe). Here is a picture of all of us at the end of the tournament:

After our rousing weekend of competitive sporting myself and two of my friends decided we would take a little ride down to Fada N'Gourma for two days to go see the animal parks. With my Mom coming, I wanted to see if it would be worth our while to head down there. Now, I don't consider myself a "rule breaker" by any means. In my entire time here I can only recall breaking cerain rules once or twice, and most of the time on accident. Honestly, we weren't supposed to be down there, and we did so without telling anyone...but this practice of "going under the radar" happens ALL the time without much consequence (since most people don't get caught). We left on Monday afternoon and had planned on being back in village by Friday morning, so considering the distances it wasn't that bad. Off we went on our safari adventure feeling pretty good about everything. We had made it down there in once piece, and we had actually worked out a free safari...pretty good so far! Just on the safari end...it was pretty amazing. I won't lie to you...there is a lot of sitting in the car and driving around without seeing anything except the butt end of an animal running away. However, towards the end of our adventure we started to really see some interesting stuff. We saw an Koba (an antelope-type creature that is as big as a clydesdale), warthogs, gigantic rabbits, baboons, crocodiles, some birds, and of course the largest land animal of all...the elephant (including almost getting charged by one when we drove into the path of ornery elephant trying to eat). It was a really great afternoon, and I was really feeling like, "yeah, now this is the Africa I hear so much about." I didn't have a lot of pics loaded, but he is what I had...keep in mind that most animals didn't exactly stop and smile for the camera!

Here is a picture of a bird, not sure what kind, but this one actually stood still...

Here we found the carcas of a just eaten Koba antelope, 1 hour later some hunters found and killed the lion responsible for this...

We returned from our safari tired, dirty, but satisfied with our little adventure...that was until the most unlikely of things happened. Burkina Faso is generally known for it's peacefulness. Aside from the various coupes during the 70s and early 80s, it has been a model for tranquility and stability. Now, on the one time that I am not at my site and I am "under the radar," the unluckiest thing of all happens...riots. As we pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, and we got reception back on our phone, my phone buzzed away. The message read, "STANDFAST, due to demonstrqtions in the Bobo-Dioulasso region all volunteers must report back where they are and stay at site!" Not only did riots go down, but they went down in my regional capital. The jig was up...I had to tell them where we were. All I can say is...BAD TIMING Stephanie. Not only am I caught out of site, but with my mom coming next week?!?! So, now here we sit, ashamed of ourselves for having disobeyed the rules (and ashamed of being caught). We can't go back to our sites, we can't go to Ouaga...we just have to sit and wait to see what happens. Will this escalate into something greater, or will this die down and Burkina goes back to being the tranquil place it has always been? First, I guess I should give you a little background and information to what is going on:

Also, here is an english article from Reuters: (http://africa.reuters.com/country/BF/news/usnL21850568.html)

The price of goods (soap, sugar, cooking oil, gasoline) has been rising dramatically here. In my village I have heard grumblings about this. Evidently, the rumours had been spreading for days that people were going to hold a demonstration to protest the rising cost of living, or in their words, "le vie est chere" (The life is expensive). The demonstrations got a bit out of control and people started burning tires, cars, looting businesses and government offices, and throwing rocks at police. These riots were also held in a town in the northern part of t he country, Ouahigouya, and rumors have been circulating that it occurred in other towns, like Banfora. The riots in Bobo even spread to some residential areas as well. There is also rumors that scheduled demonstrations are going to be held next Thursday.

Now, first off, PLEASE DO NOT WORRY!!!!!! Things are relatively calm, and at no point has anyone been in danger. The Peace Corps is handling things amazingly well, and keeping a watch on the situation. It is just HORRIBLE timing for me and my friends, as well as my Mom. I can't help but laugh at the whole situation really...because in Africa what else can you do? We just sit, and wait, and hope that things don't escalate to something more widespread. For now, we are all safe...and waiting. I hope all is well back home, and I will update you soon. Stay Safe!

A Busy Week...

2008-01-31T00:00:00.000-08:00

I think that in my time being here that I forgot what "working" and "stress" was like. These words were lost in the recesses of my mind, and for the most part I haven't had to dredge them up. That isn't to say that I haven't worked...just not in the "American" sense I guess. So, when this past week came upon me (i.e. business workshop, world map, and school garden)...I was a bit overwhelmed to say the least. I had both the world map and the school garden project in the same day. I didn't get my normal "repose" (i.e. siesta, midday nap) and I found myself getting upset about this point. "How dare they keep me busy during my nap time?!?!" Then I remembered the days of eating lunch at my desk, and powering through with the midday coffee...so I guess life isn't SO bad if I don't get my nap just one day...HAH! Anyhoo, my "busy" week is over, and now I am taking a breather. I had a rotation of visitors/helpers come through my site to help me do my workshop and map, and I can't thank them enough for their help. Our generation is a generation of collaborators...for the most part we like to work together ("two heads are better than one"), etc. So, I can't thank them enough for taking the bumpy, dusty, and long ride out to chez moi to visit and help out.

I will be honest, after spending over 16 months here I didn't have very high hopes for the business workshop. I wasn't sure how many would actually show up, and what their participation and comprehension would be. 4 of the 8 participants couldn't write very well, or speak French (try teaching accounting...yikes!), so we had to stop a lot to translate into local language. After my Girls Camp experience where the girls sat there and hardly said a word....I wasn't holding out any hopes. Also, my procrastinating self didn't even crack our guidebook on how to teach these things until the day of...so, we were employing a "sink or swim" philosophy. I don't promote a "low expectations" way of thinking to go through life...you know, "the glass is half empty" and all that crap. However, I have found that in my experiences that I prefer to go through life with low expectations, and then just be pleasantly surprised if things go my way. So, when this project decided to go my way...I was absolutely bowled over. I feel like every Peace Corps volunteer talks about that "moment"...the moment where they suddenly feel the impact that they are having in their villages (however small they may be). I had done some interesting projects...but I hadn't quite felt that impact and gratitude from the people involved. I think it was something that I needed to buoy me through...to give me that extra spark. It surprised me that the one project that I didn't dedicate all that much attention or time to was going to turn out to be that moment. From the first day all the way through to the last, it was the most fun and beneficial experience that I have had. The group of 8 guys were AMAZING! They all participated, and laughed, and shared their experiences...there was never a moment of silence in the room. We covered Marketing, Buying, Stock Control (you wouldn't believe all the old and moldy merchandise they have sitting in corners), Costing, Accounting, and Financial Management. We talked on the most basic of levels--make a sign for your business, offer promotions on your old products, buy what your customers want. I couldn't believe the response that I was getting from them. I honestly swelled with pride. They actually GOT IT...they understood what I was talking about! Not only that...but they said so, and they also said the most elusive word for me here..."thank you." Aside from gift giving, I haven't heard that word all that often in relation to my work. People just assume the foreigner is here to give...so why say thank you? It was so refreshing to see people--right before my eyes--benefiting from the knoweldge I was sharing from them. Also, I felt for once, "ah...so this is what I am here to do." I was assigned as a business volunteer and had hardly cracked into that subject. Business is what I went to school for, promotions/marketing were what my career was...FINALLY I can actually teach something that I know as opposed to trying to teach animal raising or farming! Let the choir of angels sing...I have done it...I have finally felt like I have made some level of difference that will live beyond my presence here. Sustainable is our goal, and I can't think of anything more sustainable then knoweledge....and the entire workshop only cost me $21. Definitely money and time well spent on my part.

I unfortunately didn't take all that many pictures (the workshop was from 6-8 at night...so the lighting wasn't all that good). Here are a couple:

Welcome to the Business Workshop!

Another business volunteer, Helen Ho, and I at the end of the workshop. We gave all the participants certificates and sodas. They were so excited!

The World Map...well...the world map was an interesting project. I had never worked with the students (boy and girls) by myself and in large numbers. I would imagine that giving paint to middle schoolers in the US would be stressful enough, but the kids here?!?! WOW! I will first say that the map does look like a map. I think everyone at the school is impressed that it turned out like it did. I guess for us anal Americans it was a bit difficult. Kids were flinging paint around, about 20 new islands just appeared in the Pacific Ocean, and congratulations Hawaii you have just been upgraded to continent-size! I about smacked those children a hundred times. They are passing and dropping paint across the map like they were trying to imitate a Jackson Pollock painting. It was almost more than my nerves could handle. Thank goodness I had my friend and fellow volunteer (in the education sector), Rose Kanasty, there to help me. She has been teaching lovely little monsters like these for the past 2 years...so she knows how to handle them. I am WAY too nice...and the saying "give an inch, and they'll take a mile" has never been more appropriate than here with children. She helped me set ground rules, communicate with the kids, and be the "bad cop" of the two of us. I still have about one whole days work to make it presentable...but I am going to fix all the mistakes, and then this Monday we are going to have a presentation ceremony at the school. Even with all the frustrations...It was fun to see the kids pick up a paint brush and be artistic for a while.

The school garden project on the other hand didn't really go so well. The Africare representative came out to my village to look at our site, and to talk about how to proceed. No matter how many times I told my school director that they weren't going to offer financial assistance he seemed not to listen. So, again, during the meeting he asked what they were going to provide financially. Once he realized nothing he turned on me, as if this was entirely my idea, and basically said that they never really wanted a garden in the first place, that students don't know what they want, and that it's too expensive. I just sat in my chair...totally embarrassed for wasting this NGO's time and mine...and for feeling like an idiot. Because of this perpetuation of, "well, if we just wait, a NGO will come and give us money to fix our problems," it has perpetuated this laziness and greed in people. "Why take the time and effort to fix anything when eventually some aid organization will come and fix it for me?" or "what am I getting out of this monetarily?" Everyone wants their fair share, and sometimes I just get tired of it. I may be becoming an aid worker who doesn't believe in giving aid!?! If people just sit around waiting for the "white people" to roll in and fix everything they will never do anything for themselves, and will never feel true ownership for what they do accomplish. There is a big difference on how you treat a car that someone gave you as a gift, and a car that you financed yourself...and the same goes for development in rural areas. I am slowly believing that aside from the passing of knowledge these people are completely capable of helping themselves, and should be forced to do just that. Not to sound mean, but desperation breeds innovation in a lot of ways...

Anyways...off my soapbox. For the most part this past week passed amazingly well, and I really feel good about some of the things that I have accomplished. They say that the 2nd year of service is much more fruitful...and I am already feeling the effects of that. Well, I guess I have to sign off and return to village. My mom comes in 3 weeks, so that is something to definietly look forward to. WOO HOO! I miss you all...stay close!

Village caroling, un-symmetrical green beans, and much more...

2008-01-15T00:04:00.000-08:00

Hey you guys! How is it going? I am in Bobo enjoying the food and company of other English-speaking people. I came in to town to buy paint and brushes for my 3 1/2 x 7 foot world map that myself and the kids at my local middle school are doing. I am by no means artistic...so we will see how this goes. I will try to get pictures up for you! Next week is my marketing seminar with 10 local businessmen in my village...so that should be very interesting as well. I am trying to kick off the New Year with a bang, and to stay busy so that I don't drive myself crazy. Thus far, my saving grace has been Mike and his most generous DVD burner -- I haven't missed an episode of my fave shows thanks to him and my car-batter powered portable DVD player. God bless technology...nuff said!

Things in village have been relatively quiet...the hippos are out in full force in the river, the temperature is dropping below 60 at night, and I haven't been too sick lately. You can't ask for much more now can you? A few days after New Year's the village band decided to tour around and do their version of caroling. A group of about 100+ kids showed up at my house along with a drummer and a balaphone (kind of life wooden bells) player. They jammed in my courtyard for about 10 minutes while the kids danced and sang and ran around. It was really amazing. Here is a picture from that event:

I don't know if you recall my talk about green beans in the last entry...but wow, they are everywhere. A few days after I saw the refrigerated truck depart Banzon to take 10 tons of green beans to the French public...I saw it come back to Banzon. Weird? I think so. After further inquiry, it turns out that evidently the French are a little pickier about their green beans than I would have thought. The company purchasing the green beans sent ALL of the 10 TONS back to Banzon because they said that they weren't all the same length. WHAT?!?! I separated those green beans...and they were the most gorgeous and unblemished specimens I had ever seen...I guess just not perfect enough for the French. Green beans are now piled high in the market, and you can get 2 kilos of them for less then 15 cents! I have been stuffing my face with them every day...sauteed, boiled, steamed...any way a green bean can be made I eat it. The villagers seem to be pretty upset and dissappointed by what happened. According to one of my village friends, they invested 2 million CFA ($4500) of their own money into starting the harvest of the green beans, and had stood to profit 620,000 CFA ($1400)...but now that the company has sent back all the beans, they are not even sure if they are going to pay them anything. It really is such a shame. I have never seen the villagers so mobilized and motivated about a project. Everyone I knew at one point or another was working out in the green beans fields. I say to the company that sent them back....SHAME ON YOU! Green Beans taste the same whether they are a centimeter longer or shorter than the other. To all my readers...Just say NO to symmetrical green beans!

Okay...enough of that...well, other than that there isn't much going on to fill you in about. My mom FINALLY booked her ticket to come and see me: Feb. 25th - March 10th. I am so excited about her upcoming visit, and my villagers have quite a few things planned for her. I will leave you with the following picture that I took while sitting in my market...can you spot the irregularity?

Do you notice anything wrong with this picture?

Hope 2008 is treating you well thus far...Stay Close!

Happy New Year...and a stack of green beans!

2008-01-02T09:04:00.000-08:00

So, here we are officially into 2008! Every time the clock strikes midnight I feel like things should be different, or that I should feel different...but alas nothing has changed and time keeps marching relentlessly forward. Surprisingly in Africa, the land where time stands still (or at the very least is irrelevant), the New Years celebration is quite an event. Last year I spent my New Years huddled up in my house watching "A Few Good Men" and munching on popcorn. Not exactly the New Years I had planned or wished for, but as the new white female in town I didn't feel like facing the barrage of marriage proposals and "je t'aime's", so I opted to stay in. This year however was completely different!

My friend Radhika--of Christmas Pepperidge Farm beef log fame--came to my village with the intention of staying until the 30th, and then departing to spend her New Years in the big city. However, after just 3 days in my village she she fell in love and said that she couldn't imagine spending her New Years anywhere else--well, actually everyone canceled on her and she had to choose between New Years alone in Bobo with electricity and running water, or New Years at my house with bucket baths and battery-powered lights. I am happy to report that I won out on this occasion! SCORE! Her visit proved to be very productive and motivating for me. In the days she was here I learned where green beans come from, purchased a new table and completely re-organzied my house, hung all new pictures, fixed my bike, cleaned the spiders off my ceiling, and came up with 3 new project ideas. 2008 is already shaping up to be a good one!

One of my best treats for New Years has been the re-emergence of my favorite green vegetable...the green bean! After Radhika's arrival we went touring around my market to greet people and see what we could make for dinner. My friend, Rasmane, approaches us and asks if we would like green beans. Well OF COURSE I do!! He tells us that we are going to get green beans, but that I can't buy any of them. Hah...we'll see about that. After a long walk we arrive out in in this huge field. Thirty or so people are sitting on mats sorting through piles and piles of green beans, while others are out in the field picking them off the plants. Green beans grow on this rather pretty flower (above ground). I know it seems stupid, but it looked so strange to see this thing that I eat still attached to the plant. We were immediately put to work sorting green beans with the rest of them--assuming that I would of course get a cadeaux for all of my hard work. Turns out sorting green beans is a lot harder than I thought. I got yelled at several times for not throwing out bad ones. They only accepted perfect un-blemished green beans to be packed in the box, the other rejects got piled on the mat. The good beans got packed in boxes and were being shipped to France, while the bad ones would be eated or sold in our market. As I sorted my beans I couldn't help but think about the destination of these veggies. Right now, somewhere in Paris, someone is standing at the grocery store putting green beans in their little plastic sack...and they probable aren't thinking about the little old Burkinabe lady that plucked it from its plant, or the mother with her crying child strapped to her back around the pile sorting all of the beans in the perfect direction, or the little kids whose job is to shuttle the packaged beans to storage. Here in a small African village that no one has heard of in a country that most people don't know, there are people picking and choosing and organizing these beans. All to send to some unsuspecting person who decides to buy them at the grocery store. The next time you are in the grocery store buying yourself an green bean, apple, or a head of lettuce, ask yourself where that came from?

Okay...now back to the festivities of the New Year. Throughout the day Radhika and I were continually stopped and asked what our plans were for celebrating the New Year...and could our plans include them? After much deliberation we decided that we would go to the bar early to avoid the real drunks, and just leave before midnight. Being a girl here is so much harder than you would think...men come at you from all directions asking you to dance, give them a correspondent, be there girlfriend. Earlier that day I had to fend off my friend, Abou, who kept telling me in his broken English, "I love you. You are a pretty girl. I am a gentleman, and you are a pretty girl. I mean, woman. I love you." It then took me 5 minutes to explain to him that he didn't love me, he couldn't love me, and that I was married. Which evidently didn't matter to him because he is married too. Oh well. At about 8:45 we left my house to go have one beer at the bar and then we were going to hole up in my house. When we got there the place was packed with little kids dancing their little hearts out. Sadly, at 9:00 they ushered all the young'uns out and it was adult dancing hour. Let's just say that I was surprised to discover how many prostitutes were in my village. After our beer we packed up and went home. Just as I was getting in to my pajamas I get a call from my friend Mattias telling me that they were waiting for me at the Prefet's house (the prefet is like a governor or mayor figure). Interesting....I never got the invitation. I reluctantly hopped back in my clothes, and we walked over to see what all the fuss was about. On our walk over I kept promising Radhika that we would only stay for 20 minutes, say our "Bonne Annee's" and be out of there. Oh...little did I know what we were in for. Upon arrival I noticed 5 large tables organized in the yard. This is ALWAYS a bad sign, because that means that there will be a meal and other organized events involved. How naive of me to assume that this was going to be simple. The Burkinabe have a strict class system--and thanks to the poverty there is only two classes, poor and kinda poor. The tables were organized based on importance. At the head of the courtyard were 10 cushioned chairs, reserved for all the "important" people in the village including the prefet, the head nurse, the head policeman, etc. We were not included in this "elite" group. We got the two uncushioned chairs right next to the comfy "elite" table. This, as I was told by my friend Radhika who has done these things before, is quite an honor. We are like B-list actresses ready to break onto the A-List scene! Woo hoo! I felt bad for all the poor ostracized people at the 4th table in the row--they were the Kathy Griffin's for the evening. This party was very much in contrast with the one we had just left at the bar. It was like going from a bonfire party in the backwoods to taking high tea. In one party people are really loud music, dancing, drinking, yelling, and talking...and here....well, people just sat there. Occasionally, when a good song came on they got up to dance. But, this mostly consisted of people standing in a circle moving back and forth from one foot to another. They weren't even smiling. I couldn't tell if they were having fun, or wishing they could get out of there as much as I was. After an hour of sitting there they finally brought out refreshments, which consisted of little cake pieces--which we started eating immediately, but were then warned to stop because we had violated some etiquette because the "elite" table hadn't gotten theirs yet. I kept asking my friend if I could go home, but he kept telling me to wait. "Things" would be happening very soon. Thank goodness Radhika was there or I don't know if I could have stomached the evening. We just sat around and joked about things. At one point I made a joke about "sharting" (if you don't know what that is I am not going to explain it)...at which point she started cackling so loud that we had to be hushed by two different people. Our laughing was probably about the only laughing heard all evening. I don't know why, but the "elite" of Banzon don't know how to throw a party. People just sat in their seat staring off into the middle of nowhere or sleeping. A few got up to dance, but otherwise it was a pretty quiet party. The New Years passed and we all got up and hugged and did the Burkinabe head tap. At this point I was hoping to leave, but thanks to Burkina ettiquette and procedure I was told I could not. Radhika faked sick and snuck out at 12:45 leaving me all alone. Evidently, they were going to serve more food and there would be more "partying." At 1:30 the food finally started leaving the kitchen...one whole chicken for everyone--I wonder who was paying for all of this...the town of Banzon perhaps? After that the Prefet stood up and gave a rousing speech telling eveyone that the "funcionnaires" (i.e. rich people...compared to everyone else in the village) should stick together, and do these kinds of parties more often. I couldn't help but feel a bit elitist...while we were having this reserved soiree, you could here the blaring music and hollering of the villageois. If given the choice, I might have preferred the villageois/common folk. After I picked apart my cold chicken, I stared at all the sleeping people at my table and decided it was time to go. Overall, this evening was vastly different than the one I spent in village last year...and regardless of all the unexpected events I can't help but relish every moment...from the crazy bar to the reserved party...from the dancing and drinking and eating.

I don't know if it is because of my eventful first transition into 2008, the fact that I am finishing my service this year, or the presidential election (thank goodness)...but this year feels like it is going to be an exciting one. To everyone reading this I wish you "Prosperite. Fidelite. Sante. Longevite. Et Plus." Happy Holidays...I miss you all...Stay close!

Ho Ho Ho...Merry Christmas!

2007-12-26T03:17:00.001-08:00

Hello all. Well, aside from my brief entry telling you that I wasn't going to post an entry--odd, right--I haven't written much lately. I guess my mind has been occupied with other things...or maybe I was having writer's block. The adjustment process to being back in Burkina has been a bit hard...but I feel like I am almost there.

Upon returning to Banzon I was pleasantly surprised to find that my house had not turned in to a mouse/rat kingdom, my cat was alive and still had working use of both eyes, and that for the most part things were in tact. My bike had a couple of dings on it that I don't remember inflicting...and it looked extraordinarily clean--I don't know if I cleaned it with my mind from America or if the small child in my courtyard decided to take it for a test-drive, wrecked it, and then cleaned it thinking I wouldn't notice. Either way, it still works and isn't much worse for the wear considering all the things I have done to it. Also, much to my delight, I encountered a gigantic spiderweb over the doorway to my room that spelled out, "Bienvenue!" and a pig named Wilbur sat cheerily underneath as a welcome home present...yeah dinner! Okay...if any of you are believing what I just typed...man you are gullible. Spiders can't speak French! Slowly people started trickling over to greet me, welcome me home, and demand for their gift from America. Oh gosh, really, you missed me that much...thanks! As it turns out, most people in the village, after my prolonged absence--2 months--thought that I was never coming back. I guess I am just lucky that they didn't loot my house. My house was cleaner than I could have hoped for, and luckily I was not kept awake by mice and roaches in the middle of the night....it's all a girl can ask for really.

The next morning, as the family gathers in the courtyard, I gave them their presents from America. My host dad, thanks to the oh so lovely department store of "Mom's Closet," received a lovely fleece jacket to keep him warm and toasty during those cold 70-degree nights of winter. I gave my host mom a lovely earring/necklace set and a Mercedes Marathon long-sleeve t-shirt. To the kids I gave each of them a pair of Adidas soccer shorts and some toys I found at the Dollar Store--love that place--including bubbles and stickers. I had intended, when gifting the Hot Wheels stickers to the eldest Ali, that he would use them. And us them he did...after he marveled at the sports car stickers, he ran away excitedly to decorate his bike with them. Oh, he has the sweetest ride in Banzon now! However, later that day as I was relaxing at my counterparts boutique, I noticed something. He had taken some of the stickers from his son--this is a grown man mind you--and decorated his entire scooter with Hot Wheels stickers. Can you imagine in American if a 45 year-old man decided to stick Hot Wheels stickers all over his car? Oh yes...so now both he and his 11 year-old son are sporting the coolest Hot Wheels stickers around.

After two-months away from village living--including exclusive access to a real toilet, a shower, and electricity--I found adjusting to be harder than I would have imagined. You would think most of the skills I acquired in village--mainly, my keen ability to pee/pooh into a hole the size of a softball and never get it on the floor or on myself--would come back to me quickly if not instantly. Well, let me tell you folks, that peeing in a small hole takes practice, and it isn't like riding a bike. For the entire week I can not even tell you how often I peed on the floor and on myself. Okay, I know you are making a grossed out face right now, or laughing, or both...but I am just being upfront and honest with you in an effort to show everything about my life here. The way I figure it, if you have been reading my blog from the beginning then you all know that this is nothing compared to things I have described before. It took me my entire time in village to finally remember what proper foot placements and positions my body needed to be in to accurately get everything on target. Peeing in a hole....harder than you think (especially for us girls). If you don't believe me then go outside right now and give it a whirl. If all goes well, in February my mom and her friend Audrie will get to learn first-hand about the difficulty of doing just this thing! Aside from my peeing incidents things in village are pretty boring at the moment. It is the holiday season--Tabaski, Christmas, and New Year's--so people aren't all that motivated to do anything but party and drink. So, that left me with a whole lot of time, and a whole lot of nothin' to do. After a week of sitting around and sleeping, I left village for the Christmas celebration.

A fellow volunteer, Leslie, was having the festivities in her small village of Kangala...which is even smaller and more remote than my village. Woo hoo! Thanks to some creative improvising we fashioned ourselves a Christmas tree, played Christmas carols--really we only had one Christmas song on our iPod, so we just played Akon and Harry Connick Jr.--and ate a whole lot. I brought some goodies from hom including seaweed paper, canned tuna, canned beef, Fresh Market Christmas Blend coffee, coffee mate, and so much more. The first night we dined on tuna sushi rolls...complete with wooden chopsticks that I stole from the grocery store. The next night, we had 6 chickens "sent off to pasture" so that we could celebrate in style with mashed potatoes, and a green-bean casserole--complete with cream of mushroom soup made from scratch and fried onions. The weekend was made complete by another volunteers supply of a GIGANTIC Pepperidge Farm "Yard of Beef" stick....mmmmmm!!! It was quite a weekend full of Christmas carolling, dancing, and present opening. In spite of the limiting selection of Christmas gifts available to us, I received green tea (thanks Meghann), single packets of Biore face wash (thanks Vero and your mom), a lighter that lights up multi-color when you push the button, a half-used canister of dry foot lotion (thanks Leslie), 3 Burkinabe Batteries (thanks Radhika), and a packet of tissues. It was quite a wonderful and festive event, and I couldn't be happier about my gifts. After our festivities at Leslie's we moved on to Audrie's village to continue the holiday--Pig Roast. Audrie's village, Mahon, is only 9 kilometers away, and thanks to my poor planning I didn't have a bike to get there. So, in a moment of insanity, I said that I would just run there. After my weekend of attempting to eat an entire "Yard of Beef" among all the other food that I indulged in, it probably wasn't such a good idea. It took me longer than I would have liked, but I finally arrived at the pig roast ravenous and feeling pretty good about digging into the 100-pound pig that we had selected to dine on. It ended up being about 8 of us Peace Corps volunteers and 30 or so villagers. We drank a lot of palm wine, drank a lot of beer, ate a lot of pork, and sang as many Christmas Carols as we could remember. It was a pretty fun time!

Now I am back in Bobo ready to head back to village to celebrate the passing into 2008! Can you believe it?!?! It has been over one year since I left America to come to Burkina, and here we are turning over to '08. The year that I will come home from the Peace Corps, the year that my sis will graduate college, and more importantly the year that we say goodbye to George Bush! Thank goodness!

I can only hope that you all have had as fun and an eventful Christmas holiday as myself, and I hope that your New Year's is wonderful as well. It's back to village I go...take care and stay close!

A Quick Update...

2007-12-15T03:29:00.000-08:00

Okay...so I am sitting here trying to figure out what to write about, and I will be honest...I am drawing a blank. A lot has happened in the past few weeks as I adjust back to my life here in Burkina Faso. I will admit it was a bit harder than I thought...everything looked a bit dirtier and a bit crazier than when I left.

I am finished helping out with training, and I am finished with my own training and yearly annual physical--in case you were wondering I am apparently germ, microbe, amoeba, and parasite free, at least according to my pooh samples (I'm sure you really wanted to know that too...). In about an hour I will be boarding my "bus" back to village...a place that, after being away 2 months, feels rather foreign to me now. Back I go to the world of bucket baths, battery-powered lights, latrine holes, and hauling my water from a well. To most this doesn't sound like a vacation, but to be honest with you my senses are on absolute overload at this point and I wouldn't mind a bit of solitude. And, of course, I do have a lot of work to do...

Alright, well, I will have more to write about the next time. I have lots of time in village to think up a fabulous entry that will leave you doubled over in laughter. Hope everyone enjoys their holidays and snow...I will be bundled up against 60 degree weather...woo hoo!

Stay Safe!

A warm Burkinabe welcome...sort of...

2007-11-28T12:03:00.000-08:00

Hello all! That's right...I am writing you from Burkina Faso. The eagle has landed! Wow...I am still reeling from all the things that have happened in the past several weeks, and reflecting on how much fun I had while I was home. I got to spend 2 wonderful weeks with Mike in New York City, eating my way through every restaurant I ever wanted to visit. We went up to Boston and explored the town. Then I migrated to the South--to much more welcoming weather--where I spent two weeks with my family. With my Dad's wedding, Thanksgiving, and of course THE IRON BOWL, I had little time to breathe. But, I tell you, I don't regret one busy second of it. Everything just tasted a little sweeter, was just a little better, and I have Burkina to thank for this new found appreciation.

Now here I am back in Africa...my life has recommenced. Of course, leave it to Burkina Faso to offer me quite a rousing welcome in my first full day. I got in last night around 8:00. Thanks to some delays in Burkina we say in Niamey, Niger for an hour and a half. We finally land and I singlehandedly lug all 3--that's right, I said 3--suitcases into a taxi and back to the apartment. I absolutely crash, because I am running on zero hours of sleep. The next day--i.e. today--I was supposed to take the bus up to Ouahigouya to work the training for the new volunteers. All is going well. I get a taxi to pick me up at 9:00 and I head to the bus station. Of course, as the taxi pulls away I realize that I have (a) left my brand new Nalgene bottle in the car and (b) left all my medecine sitting out in the hostel. Way to go...and such a typical "Stephanie" move--those of you that know me are just snickering right now...STOP IT!

I get on the bus and off we go...seemingly without a hitch. I do have to get used to EVERY guy hitting on me, asking me to give them money, buy them a soda, and the "oh, if you need someone to accompany you on your bus ride" offer. We get about 30 minutes outside of Ouaga when the bus stops. I have my iPod running, so I am spaced out. But, time starts slipping by, and by, and by, and by...and then I realize that it has been an hour. I get out of the bus to ask what is going on, and all I get is jumbled responses in French--and man is my French rusty. Someone says something about our driver not having papers, and that they sent for a new one. Well, turns out the second driver didn't have papers either...go figure. Time is going by, and I am trying really hard to tap back into my "African Patience" that I packed away while in the States. Another hour goes by and there I sit in the hot sun on the side of the road. Finally, I ask that the driver give me my bag that is packed on the roof because I am going to hitchhike--I know it sounds scary, but it really isn't. Well, at this point--2 hours into our joy ride--he has been getting yelled at my the other passengers, so he refuses to take my bag off. He keeps yelling about another bus coming, and that I would just have to wait. I watch as other bus lines pass by...the passengers seemingly laughing at my poor ass sitting on the side of the road, sweating...no water, no food...no fun! So, we tick through the 3rd hour, and still no one. Now, we tick into the 4th hour...and still there we sit. If only I had the guts to climb to the top of the bus and just unstrap my bag. I am cursing in English, and it makes me even more mad that no one understands me and that I don't know how to curse in French--note to self: learn to curse or be mad in French. Finally, in the 5th hour...yes the 5th hour...the driver tells us we are turning back around. I ask him again to just give me my bag back--forget about my money, I don't even want it back--so that I can just hitch a ride on another bus. Again, he refuses. At this point, there are like 5 other Burkinabes telling him he should give me my bag, but he feels like being a jerk and refuses. So, I hop back on the bus to take my ride right back to where I started...or so I thought. Rather than going back to the station he gets taken by police escort to their impound. We pull in and everyone is asked to pile out. Again, I ask for my bag...just my bag...so I can get out of there. Again, the driver refuses to take it down. He says he won't take anything down until we reach our destination...HELLO...we are never getting there!! I am furious. I start asking the police for help, but they say they can't do anything. So, there I sit in the police compound while a policeman draws lines on a piece of paper with a ruler, and stares at a sheet of paper. My adventure started at 9:30, and we are ticking past 3:00...so needless to say I was a bit upset. With my last ounce of credit on my phone I call Erica and ask her to see if she can contact Peace Corps to get me some help. I don't want to board another bus, I just want my damn bag, and I want out of there. Finally, our security director gets the police, the bus service, and the chauffeur on the phone. Within 2 seconds of him talking with them my bag was unloaded and I was out of there. Now come on people...was that really so hard? All he had to do was get his ass on the top of that bus and just give me my bag...no problems. I wasn't asking for my money back, or for an apology...I just wanted my bag so I could leave. I couldn't help having the thoughts of, "is this what I came back here for?"

So, 6 hours after I left for what should have been a 2 1/2 hour ride, I return back to the hostel. I wish I could say I learned some valuable lesson in all of this, or that I reached my Zen place...but...I didn't. I just wasted an afternoon sitting in the hot sun, starving and thirsty. In the end, no matter how I felt or what I said, the situation didn't change...you have to just shake your head, grit your teeth, and say..."Burkina!"

To add to my first 24 hours of bad luck, my fabulous tub of grits completely busted open in my bag. Like...everything was covered in grits, and it looked like it snowed on the floor. Not to gross you all out, but I ashamedly shook them out of the bag, swept them up, and put them in a plastic baggy. I ate some this morning. Look, if the title of my blog gives you no clue, I really like grits, and it would take a month to get more sent to me. So, I am willing to sacrifice and lower my standards.

It has been a bumpy first 24 hours back on Burkina soil, but I guess I can take solace in the fact that (a) it can only get better, (b) my cat, Shea, is still alive, or so they tell me, (c) my house is still standing, (d) it's getting cooler, and (e) the taxi driver returned my Nalgene bottle! YEAH!

I want to thank everyone at home that I saw, and those I didn't, for your thoughts, phone calls, gifts, well-wishes, etc. I had such an amazing time visiting with all of you! Stay happy and healthy...and of course, stay close!

I've only got one word for you...

2007-11-15T17:42:00.000-08:00

I completed my 14 hour "hell-flight"--not including the 13 hour layover that I had in Paris...and here I am Stateside for the first time in 14 months. Before I get into the details of how the trip is going, I need only to tell you that being here has been pretty excellent. It isn't that I have done anything crazy, it has been the simple and ordinary that I have enjoyed the most--going to Starbucks for coffee, meeting with friends, watching TV, walking around the city, running in Central Park. I never realized how much I missed this life...and not the complexities, but the basic everyday. After only 2 weeks Burkina Faso seems like this dream. Does it really exist? Do people really live their lives there, while we live our lives here? It is so difficult to fathom that the two worlds exist in the same time-space continuum...they couldn't possibly be any more different!

My flight over was anything but fun. Thanks to yours truly and my fabulous packing/planning skills I forgot both my only sweatshirt and my only jacket...they have been keeping my empty hut in Banzon company. So, armed with a short sleeve shirt, pants, and flip flops I braved the cold weather of Europe. I FROZE my ass off in 5 degree (celsius) weather in Paris. Yup, those dreams I had of hitting up the Starbucks in Paris...FOILED AGAIN! Instead I wandered around the Charles de Gaulle Airport (which by the way is the WORST and most BORING airport ever!) for 13 hours drinking nasty Lavazza coffee. Could I have braved what from my perspective was the Artic Tundra come to life in France? Probably. Would I have gotten dirty looks from stylish Parisians as they scoffed and said, "humph, stupid Americaine..."? Most definitely. Would I have enjoyed my Starbucks? With my luck...probably not. It would either end up closed or out of coffee for the day. And, lord knows with the way the French strike I would probably have been stuck paying another 20 Euro for a cab. Thanks to the less than stellar US dollar...NOT WORTH IT...even for Starbucks!

After my very long 3-continent adventure I finally arrived safe and sound into New York City. The "City of Lights," "The City that Never Sleeps," "The Big Apple," "The Melting Pot of the World"...okay, enough with the nicknames. Mike met me there, and I swear it was as if I had never left. After 14 months away, I was able to adjust right back to life here as if I never left. Aside from the culture shock, that for the most part is just internal thoughts running through my head ("don't throw that away," "Oooohh, those onions and apples are huge," "Turn off those lights," "You mean the chicken is dead before you buy it? GREAT!"). It is really hard to believe that my two lives exist...here and there. There are times when an image or memory of my life in Burkina comes rushing forward, and all I want to do is tell someone about it, but in a lot of ways they wouldn't understand. So, I just sit there laughing to myself about the grocery stores, the toys, the food, the drinks....and a lot of words and feelings run through my head:

Enormous
Bright
Gluttonous
Ecstatic
Happy
Sad
Reminiscent
Rich
Poor
Busy
Fast

But, in the end...there is only one word that can truly sum up all that I have been feeling and thinking in the past two weeks (and it seems all too appropriate for this upcoming holiday).

GRATEFUL

I am grateful for the choices and opportunities I have in life--choices/opportunities that my friends back in Burkina will probably never get. I am grateful for my family...I am grateful for Mike...I am grateful for my friends (here and in Burkina)...I am grateful for my health...I am grateful for a shower...I am grateful for the changing colors of the leaves...I am grateful for the crisp Fall air...

As cheesy as it sounds, I can't help but smile and be grateful that this is my life, I am who I am, and I have the choices and options that I have. I know first-hand how easy it is to be blinded by other things--my job sucks, I don't have enough money, this guy in front of me is slow, where the hell is the bus!), and I think that in my trip home I have realized that I attained one of my biggest goals in going...to gain perspective.

So...if you are reading this...STOP! Stop for just one second and think about your life...about all the good things that are in it that maybe you have overlooked or taken for granted. Be grateful for those things, and maybe send some good vibes/prayers/whatever you do over to those in the world that don't have the choices and the opportunities.

Okay, that was my "Oprah" moment. I hope that everyone is enjoying the holidays, and if you haven't already...get in touch with me while I am home! Stay Safe.

Ummm...no thank you!

2007-10-28T09:35:00.000-07:00

I am preparing to travel to the "land of milk and honey" (aka The United States) and in Burkina nothing is predictable...so, before I go and bathe myself in chocolate, sushi, Jamba Juice, Starbucks, pizza, and anyother food related delicacy, I will share my last crazy moment...something I am certain does not happen often, if at all, in the States.

I am walking from Marina Market (our "grocery store"). I am accustomed to being hassled by the random "faux types" that hang out there, and the homeless man that follow me...so this was no different. This guy follows beside me for about a 20 minute walk. He is babbling in French something about how Americans are Africans, we are all the same blood...my mom is his mom, and his dad is my dad...and that if I just gave him some money he could buy something to do something (he was not talking coherently...and my French isn't that good). I get to a street corner and he is still babbling and following, and I am trying to just ignore him and hail a cab. Of course, the one time I need one no one comes! So I walk to a further street corner to see if I will have better luck. I am standing there, and at this point I don't hear him so I am hoping he just slunk away. Suddenly, a pigeon flies (or drops) down dead about 2 feet from me. It twitches a couple times...then goes limp. I turn around to see my trusty friend--slingshot in hand--trotting over to claim his newly acquired prize...yummy. Now, I can handle a lot, but this just about crossed my gross out threshhold. He picks up the pigeon, whose poor head is bobbing around like a bobble-head doll, and he proceeds to attempt to stuff it in my bag. OH YES! I kid you not! My hands aren't free because they are full of bags so I try to run away. I keep refusing his "generous cadeau" as he calls it. At this point I am scared he is going to throw it at me. All of the Burkinabè look on in amusement...huh, I am glad someone is enjoying this. Then he walks away...YES, I'm free...wait, NO I'm not. He finds a clear plastic sachet and stuffs the dead bird into it...oh my gosh, is he really going to try and give it to me again or throw it at me? I freak out and start power walking across the busy street. It is like a scene from "Dodgeball"...except luckily I didn't get hit. A cab finally turns and stops right as the man is approaching me. He is holding out the bag yelling--"Mon cherie, c'est un cadeau pour vous. Vien prendre et manger! Mon cherie!" AAAAHHHH...I hope in and don't even ask where he is going, and nor do I care...I want outtie from this psycho.

Anyhoo, everyone in the car gets a nice laugh at the crazy man trying to give me that bird...and one man asks me why I didn't take it...he would have eaten it for dinner if I hadn't. Yeah...Only In Burkina (OIB).

Stay safe...and see you in 3 DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

P.S. Revenge on the Paris Starbuck's will be mine. With a 13-hour layover in Paris I will not be denied my Tall Skim Caramel Macchiatto...VINDICATION! Operation GSCMBSKS (see May 2007 entry) lives again!

A worthy adversary...

2007-10-19T07:20:00.000-07:00

It has been over one year in Burkina, and I feel like at this point I can pretty much handle anything. Roaches, scorpions, spiders, gross food, babies peeing on me...but it wasn't until my long "sejour" in Senegal, that my most worthy nemesis became known. Oh yes....with the sudden departure of my cat, and the emptiness of a house..."Jerry" decided to move in...him and his entire family. That's right. For the past month I have been battling with an INSANE mouse infestation. Let's start from the beginning of our "tete-a-tete."

Encounter #1:
It is my first night home...I am attempting to sleep on a moldy bed, on moldy sheets, in a moldy house. Not easy or fun. Suddenly, a small furry creature skirts across the bottom of my bed, across my legs. Fully awake, I look to see 3 mice hiding under my table in my room. Not fun! I text Mike at 2 a.m. and ask him to come and kill them...unfortunately Air France only offers one flight a week to Burkina, and it's full, so he can't come.

Encounter #2:
I am doing massive spring cleaning on my house, and I pull out an old suitcase to pack some books in. Upon opening the suitcase 3 mice JUMP (I didn't even know they could jump that high) out of my suitcase and scatter. My newly attained kitten (aka "mouse killing machine") stares on in disinterest and goes back to sleep. I discover that the mice have eaten and pissed on all of the clothes in the bag, and they are all ruined.

Encounter #3:
I am cleaning dishes when a towel hanging on the wall moves slightly. My first thought is, the cat is chewming my towel. My second thought...wait, the cat is outside. BOOM, a small furry creature leaps from behind the towel onto my chest. I proceed to scream like a little baby, several people come running, and the mouse scurries off. I am laughed at by all the people in my courtyard.

Encounter #4:
It is the end of Ramadan and I am cooking up a feast of chicken, spaghetti sauce, and spaghetti. All the burners on my stove top are in use. Suddenly, my stove top starts to shake, one of the flames starts going crazy, and I hear a screeching coming from underneath the stove top. I rush, shut the gas off for fear of being blown up, and the sound stops. I thought I had killed something, but upon further exploration I see nothing. The next day I notice a little tail sticking out from under my stove. After further exploration underneath, I see a mouse nicely grilled medium well to the bottom of my stove top. My host mother proceeds to pluck it out with her bare hands, and drag it by its tail until my cat becomes interested and starts to chew it apart. As gross as that is, my first thought is...HAHAHA, and I didn't even have to kill it myself!

Encounter #5:
I am sleeping peacefully thinking that all of the mice have been eradicated from my house. I am awoken by strange sounds from my cat. The cat jumps on my bed and starts chowing down on something I cannot see. I grab my flashlight only to be awoken to the sight of a bloody dead mouse being dragged across my bed. The cat has decided that my bed is the dinner table...ummm...NO! Should I have been grossed out by this...yes...was I...no. I was more annoyed than anything else, and proud that he had actually gotten one on his own. I took him and his prize outside to finish the meal, and then covered the blood with a sleeping bag....I slept like a baby that night. And don't worry....I cleaned the sheets the next morning.

2 down! Hopefully no more go! I still hear random skitterings at night, and scary stories from neighbors about how mice like to nibble you at night. I hope that my fierce companion, Shea, is now aware of his role in my house. I really think that from this point forward I will be able to hand most any infestation...I feel much stronger...or maybe just de-sensitized. Either way, I hope you enjoyed that little story...it is to be continued!

For those of you that have been supporting me in the marathon...I have some bad news. A recurring Staph Infection and a pinched nerve have left me virtually bed-ridden these past few weeks, and I have decided that it is best if I postpone my marathon entry until next year. I am VERY disappointed, but I would like to survive the marathon...and at this point that wouldn't be likely. I am like an old woman here...I swear I have cut off at least 10 years of my life span...and that is only in year 1. Anyway, I still look forward to seeing all of you...OCTOBER 31ST BABY! Stay safe!!

Time keeps on tickin', tickin', tickin' into the future...

2007-09-30T01:42:00.000-07:00

1 year...that's right...1 year since I touched down in the paradise that I like to refer to as Burkina Faso. Can it really be that long? I honestly feel like I just got here, and that I am still trying to figure things out, but here I am crossing the 1 year hump, and getting ready for a new set of trainees to come in. I look back at all that has happened in this past year...all the hardships, the sicknesses, the friends lost--not died...they went home, and the triumphs and achievements. It has been a rollercoaster ride, but I feel like I am finally settling in to things here, in work and in life. What's cool is that in the next few months I get to help train the new "me's"...i.e. Small Business volunteers...have I really come that far? Sometimes you expect such HUGE change...but in the end it is almost imperceptible. Only time will tell what effects this experience has had on me.

Things in village were a bit difficult coming back. As most of you know, my cat Gateau went missing...and as the drama unfolded it was revealed that my homologue--he owns my house--hit and killed him. So, I was having a hard time dealing with that--especially because in Gateau's absence an entire mouse colony (mom, dad, babies, and all) set up shop in my house. I arrived at my house a little bit in shock at the massive change that had happened in the time I was in Senegal. 8 volunteers were sent home for various reasons while I was there, so I had lost some very good friends. On top of that, upon entering my house I discovered not only the mouse infestation, but also a SERIOUS mildew problem. All my leather sandals were molded, my belts and clothes (ALL OF THEM) were moldy and damp, my mattress had mildewed, and the dust was BAD. But, thanks to a 5 1/2 hour tranport ride to my village, I arrived at night and couldn't do much about it. That first night I was unpleasantly awoken to the noise of gnawing, and then a small creature skittering across my bed. Yes, peeps, that's right...I had a bedfellow...a large mouse. That almost did me in...I called Mike and made him talk to me for an hour because I couldn't sleep. The mold/dampness in my house made it difficult to breathe...yeah...I don't think I need to say more...it was just hard. I went from an air-conditioned hotel room with continental breakfast in Senegal...to this.

My village did feel rather bad about my cat, and got me another, and although he is nothing like Gateau...he at least eats the mice, and that is thankful:

Say hello to my new kitten....Shea

Work, on the other hand, has been going well, and keeping me busy. If not for that, I fear I probably wouldn't have lasted a year. My women's groups that did the shea butter formation just started the formal process to become a government recognized Union, and a Netherlandese NGO, SNV, is coming to my village to meet them and work with them in building their capacity and skills in business management, etc. My girls camp...THANK HEAVENS...also ended. I completed another 2 weeks of the camp and then we had the closing ceremony.

I loved doing the camp, don't get me wrong. I will say that it was at times the most stressful and frustrating thing in the world. Burkinabe are anything but reliable when it comes to saying they are going to do something. I had a last minute cancellation from the nurse at the hospital for my womens roundtable, and the teacher that was supposed to come never showed up. So, my roundtable consisted of 2 people...a secretary and a HIV/AIDS specialist. An hour later the Manager of the Caisse showed up...so it was a little dissappointing. Then the guy who was supposed to help me with composting just decided he didn't want to do it and not tell me...so in about 5 minutes I had to pull together a Fuel Briquette formation for my environment group. But, as I have said countless times before...somehow, someway...it always works out. The Fuel Briquette training was a huge success...and the most fun activity I did thus far...sometimes tons of planning doesn't always make a difference. Here is a couple pics of the girls doing the briquettes:

It was a major stress for me to plan an event like this...up until this point I had hit up against cultural barriers...but nothing like this. Their rules/cultural regulations regarding parties (or "fetes" as they call them) and who you invite, what you serve, how much you serve, etc. is UNBELIEVABLE! I had to invite every major figure in our village, which skyrocketed the price of the party...it is a domino effect...you invite one person and you have to invite another, until I had a 60 person guest list. I wanted the girls to feel special, and feel that the community cared about this event...and I think I achieved that. We killed 11 chickens, and had TONS of rice, and cokes (yes...cokes...in Southern that means it could be any drink...Sprite, Fanta, Coke, whatever) for everyone. I definitely lost my patience more than once, and felt taken advantage of because I am the "white" girl...but you know what...I had the money, everyone enjoyed themselves, and in the end I threw a party for 60 people and spent about $85 USD...not bad. Here is a picture of the girls after they had received their certificates:

Now, I am at a bit of a break in my work, and getting ready to be out of my village for quite a while. I will be in village for a couple of weeks, including several days of hosting some trainees in my village so they can get the "vrai" village experience. After that I pack my stuff and leave village for good for 6 weeks! I will spend a week at the training center, board a plane to the USA...WOO HOO, and then after arriving back in Burkina I will spend another week and a half with the trainees as they prepare to swear in and move to their sites. So...I leave my village Oct. 21st and don't get back until Dec. 14th!!! To be honest, I am not all that happy about it, considering that my work comes to a complete halt...but, I am excited about visiting home and helping with the new trainees...so my village will survive. I have a lot of ideas for small projects to start in my village when I get back: A school garden to supplement their canteen lunches, a girls soccer club, an after-school study program for girls, a business management workshop, and of course their is always Shea butter kickin' around. I hope to bring home lots of samples for you all to try!

Anyways, otherwise, all is well. I am battling yet another case of Staph infection, and trying to make a decision on my marathon hopes. Right now my ankle is swollen like a grapefruit, and I am battling with my stubborness on what to do. I will keep you posted. EITHER WAY, I will be home on October 31st ready to visit and take in as much of America as I can. I miss you all...and I will see you soon! Stay close!

Burkina Sweet Burkina!

2007-09-08T00:45:00.000-07:00

I have had serious dental work in Africa...and I live to tell the tale! As my Aunt told me, that is a first for a Gottlieb. So, I am happy to set the family record. Who is spreading this vicious rumor that root canals hurt...STOP IT...because they don't. HUGE MYTH! As scared as I was, the dentist was amazing, and I never really felt any pain. I have a new tooth to show for it...not gold, ceramic...but still fun all the same. I am glad that this is behind me, and I can move on to more interesting illnesses like parasites and giardia. It isn't all that cool to say, "yeah, I am here on dental"...much cooler to say something like, "yeah, I'm here because I have a parasite living in my intestinal tract eating away at the lining."

Burkina Sweet Burkina! Who thought I would ever say that! After a 3-week sejour in Dakar, Senegal I am back in familiar territory. It felt so good to hear a local language that is familiar...even if after a year I still don't know what the hell people are saying. It felt good to see everyone, and get caught up on all the PC Burkina Faso gossip...and believe me there is a lot! Just in the 3 weeks that I was in Senegal 6 people went home (either ET'ed or Separated). So, it has been a whirlwind trip to the airport everyday to say goodbye to someone else.

I had such a great time in Senegal...from running with my Senegalese friend Fatou, to sunbathing on one of their many islands, to scuba-diving--that's right...scuba-diving...awesome! I ate my way through most of the wonderful restaurants, met some great volunteers and people, and now it's over. When I came back from Israel it was a difficult transition, and I am feeling that again. It is hard to be back, having been away for so long, and know exactly where to pick up again. I have to rejuvenate my girl's camp, work on shea butter, and at the end of this month I will be welcoming the new trainees! Can you believe it...a year...how does that go by so fast?!?! My head is still spinning...

Anyhoo, so...back on my crappy transport to village and back to my life in Burkina. I am scared to death to see what my house looks like. One of my other friends who left for a few weeks came back to mildew and a termite infestation. So, I am afraid I will have my work cut out for me. Lord help me...if there are roaches and spiders (and no Gateau to eat them for me)...I don't know. I think I will pay some small child to just clean my house out for me...the beauty of Africa. Best part is, that would probably either be free or cost me $.50. Gotta love it.

What I am most excited about is doing my last 2 months of marathon training in village. NOT!! Yeah, this should be a blast trying to avoid gigantic mud puddles, potholes, and random farm animals. Could someone please remind me what I was thinking? I have come to a realization in the past few weeks...I am a social runner...much like a social drinker. That whole "runners high" thing...yeah, I don't get that. That is a load of crap. What I loved most about marathon training last time was the great friends that I made...so that when you go on that 20 mile hell run you at least have company and conversation...a comraderie. Now, all I have is my iPod and random people yelling at me as I go. And, lets not forget the weather conditions on top of that. How do these Kenyans do it? No wonder they win everything. Yeah...not fun! This may quite possibly be the hardest thing I have ever done. And, once again I remind you, if you would like to show your support--which I know you all want to do...hehehe, click the link at the top left of my blog to donate to my charity! I need your help to succeed in raising $2500!!

Anyhoo, I am boring you...so I will let you go for now. Stay safe, happy, and healthy. I will probably get back to the computer in a couple of weeks. So...talk to you soon...and SEE YOU IN 2 MONTHS!

RIP - My Kitty, Gateau

2007-08-31T06:33:00.000-07:00

Well, I had heard a few days ago, but now with his continued dissappearance it is confirmed. My wonderful cat, Gateau, is gone...

I know he is just a cat, but having been with me since the beginning he has become my family and my best friend. He took care of all my creep crawlies, snuggled on my lap, and was my companion.

I am still in Senegal, so I feel a bit powerless about the whole thing right now, and as you know I have a LOT of free time on my hands right now, so I made this video...

Hopefully, I will be back in Burkina next Thursday. I will keep you all posted. Stay close!

More Misadventures as GRITS navigates West Africa...

2007-08-26T11:55:00.000-07:00

Hello from Dakar, Senegal! Sorry it has taken me so long to provide an update...I do have a lot of free time, but somehow it flies by so fast. I had a pretty interesting last night in Burkina Faso before I left to come here.

Myself, and two other volunteers decided to go out and have dinner and drinks in downtown Ouagadougou. Now, ask anyone and they will tell you that Ouaga is one of the safest capitals in West Africa. The evening goes by without incident, save for a few street sellers being a little more than persistent. We finish dinner and head out to the road to catch a cab. One cab stops, and as usual because we are foreigners, we get quoted some obscene price, so we say no thanks and move on to the next cab. We finally agree on a price, and hop in. Now, I will admit that I wasn't being all that attentive...but as we are sitting there I am texting away on my cell phone. A hand reaches into the window. Now, logically I should have been surprised by this fact...but in typical Stephanie fashion...i was completely oblivious. I thought, "why is that guy reaching in here? Is the other taxi driver pissed that we didn't go with him?" Hahaha...well, I learned pretty quickly why this hand was in the car. Yup, this little street urchin wanted my cell phone. I send my text message, and as the cab pulls away I realize that it isn't just my hand on my cell phone...but his too! He starts running by the car, and we engage in a tug-of-war of sorts over my cell. I have two hands on it, he has one. Jerk, jerk, jerk...I let out an "Eek!" type scream--like if you saw a roach on the wall or something. Everyone in the car is unaware of what's going on. After several tugs back and forth, and my child-like screech, I win the cell phone! HAHA...VICTORIOUS! I wanted to go back and confront the guy, but the taxi just kept going...and little did I know that not only was my fun-filled night not over, but that the taxi had an important role to play.

We round the corner, only to be flagged down by two women on the street. My first reaction is, "hell no...no room." Well, as it turns out this poor woman is actually in labor! Yes, my friends, when they go into labor they calmly stand outside and hail a cab. We all got out and offered her the cab, but the driver insisted that we come along. He promised it would only take a few minutes to drop her off. I am sitting in the backseat scared to death that her water is going to break on me or something. She seems so calm, even while knowing that her birth would be performed withou anesthesia (hah...epidural? What?) and in a room furnished with 2 buckets (if she is lucky). As we speed along I look her way and see that she has her head buried in her mother's shoulder, and she is whimpering. To break the tension, I ask them whether it is a boy or a girl...they don't know. "Do you have any names picked out," I ask. No...they haven't thought that far ahead. Well, I say, don't worry...if it's a girl you can call it Stephanie and if it is a boy it can be Stephane. Problem solved. They both giggle, and I see the tension wipe from the girl's face...for just a second. We pull up, she gets out, we wish her the best, and we're off. Crisis averted, and no need to deliver a baby in a taxi. Whew!

It was an interesting night, to say the least...and if anyone asks you what really happened. I slammed the robber with the door, kicked him in the groin and rode away laughing. I then proceeded to deliver a baby in the taxi, and in my honor they named it Stephanie. Now...start that rumor mill!

Now, here I am in Senegal in the middle of my dental work. By the time I am done I will have a brand new tooth (not a gold one unfortunately...I tried). Senegal is pretty great...it's crowded, busy, and modern...and most importantly has sushi, imported beer, and ice cream. Truly, I couldn't ask for more. I have even been keeping up on my running. I met a member of the Senegal National Junior Track Team, and she offered to run with me...so that has been quite an experience. I warned her ahead of time that, "white people can't jump...or run...especially this white person." So, if she is happy going at a pace that I am certain she could crawl at...then I would be happy to run with her. Luckily, she obliged...and being that she is a sprinter and only does the 200m and 400m races, I actually outrun her at times. Now THAT is a boost to the ego.

I have another week and a half here as they make the crown, and ensure that the infection has entirely gone away. Most people would think that I am living in the lap of luxury--and don't get me wrong, I am enjoying myself!--but I will be honest with you folks...as cheesy as it sounds...I miss my village, I miss my friends, and I miss my cat. Home is where the heart is...and never before has that rung as true for me. Burkina Faso may not have the food, the beaches, the beer, and the ice cream, but in the past 11 months it has become a sort of home to me. So, I am looking forward to finishing here and heading back.

For those of you that are reading this twice, or are just bored, here is a little present. I finally, with all the time I have here, have been able to edit my first little video. My neighbors were cementing their courtyard so that they could dry rice...so all the surrounding neighbor women got together and helped...it was really amazing...watch and see:

The countdown continues to "Stephanie's Tour d'Etats Unis"...2 months! DON'T FORGET...hop on to my marathon fundraising page to make a donation to the Children's IBD Center of Mt. Sinai (Click Here: Steph's Fundraising Page). $5, $10, $20, $100...whatever! It all pushes me closer to my goal of raising $2500...so pop out those wallets and get to donatin'!!!! Support me as I raise money and train to run in the 2007 ING NYC Marathon!

I hope you are all well, safe, and dry--for those of you in the Midwest. I am thinking of all of you. Stay Close!

Life is a rollercoaster...so just put your hands in the air

2007-08-08T08:07:00.000-07:00

The longer that I live here the more that I am not only learning, but more importantly accepting, that things don't always go the way you want them to, or as smoothly as you want them to. Most of you know me, and in my life I like to be in control...I like to "plan" pretty much everything. My mom will tell you that by 9th grade I had my entire high school curriculum planned out for every year until graduation, and I already had my college and major selected too...at 14 years old I knew exactly how I wanted my life to go. I have always been like that...well, that is until now. I have been in Burkina Faso a little more than 10 months, and in those 10 months I have learned so much about myself. I have learned that I am capable of a great many things (and that doesn't just mean poo-ing in a hole and living without electricity), and that I am capable of handling a great many things--setbacks included. The easy part is realizing that things don't always go your way or how you planned, the hard part is ACCEPTING that things don't always go your way or how you planned.

This has been an extremely busy summer...at least by my African standards. I just finished my shea butter training with 25 women in my village. This experience, as difficult as it was at times, was so extremely rewarding for me. You all know my love of the shea butter process and the teamwork it requires of women, and my women were so amazing and inspirational. Here is a picture of them at the end of our formation holding their certificates:

The weather conditions were anything but perfect! The first day we stood for hours holding a plastic tarp over two women who were roasting the shea nuts while it downpoured. After doing that for two hours, the women decided they would rather move the fires into a one room hut and sit in there--with the smoke and heat!!--and roast them in there. Well...at least they were dry. The next day we got another torrential downpour that completely flooded the village--we are talking like over my knees, river rapid, type flooding. Yet, the 5 women who were participating from a neighboring village 5 kilometers away still road/walked their bikes in (with babies strapped on backs) to the formation. It was an amazing testament to the work ethic and resilience that exists here amongst these people. I was like a mother watching her children perform in a recital...I was absolutely bursting with pride!

Looking back on this formation, there were ups and downs...I couldn't control the weather, I couldn't control the women and whether they showed up on time, and I couldn't control their enthusiasm. The day before the formation I was threatening to cancel the whole thing because the women were not showing up for the preliminary orientation meeting, and for a moment I almost lost it. Then, I had to stop and remember...as cliche as it is..."Let go and Let God." All my life I have been told that, and all my life I have said, "oh yeah, absolutely." But, I never really meant it. Now I am truly learning the meaning of this saying, and positive impact it can have in my life. If I worried about controlling every aspect, it would drive me insane...and at one point I almost let that happen. Things here in Burkina Faso are never perfect...but in the end I am not sure I want to strive for utter perfection. I am learning that I am just happy to get to that "mediocre" level. If I see a light of recognition flash in their eyes, or a smile and a laugh...I am okay with that. Of course I will never stop striving for the best, that is in my nature, but I think that I am learning to be satisfied with the simple things...which for me I think is a step in the right direction. Here are several pictures from the shea butter formation, you can go to my Flickr site to see them all:

Here is a woman (with baby!) in the smoke filled one-room hut, roasting the shea nuts

Here are the women working together to wash the raw butter before boiling and cleaning it again as an oil

Here is your's truly getting her hands dirty

Here is Fatou, showing off our freshly roasted shea nuts

Here is a participant skimming the impurities off the top as the oil boils

I am experiencing the same thing with my girls camp as well. Again, I can't control the weather and I can't control the girls. I can only worry about the program and myself...the rest I have to leave up to them and to fate.

Here is the Welcome Sign on the first day of the girl's camp.

Some days it rains, some days the girls don't all show up, some days my speakers cancel on me, and some days the girls look bored. But, there are the days that they do all show up, and the days that they laugh and participate, and the days that they give the right responses, and the days where they look at me and I see in their eyes recognition and pride. It is those days that happen more than the bad...and it is those days that buoy me on to the next, and re-energize me. I may not have exactly the impact that I planned on from the beginning...but if just one girl learns something new, or feels better about herself...that is okay too. That is all that I can really strive for, and for the first time in my life...I am okay "letting go, and letting God."

Something very interesting to experience here in Burkina Faso is the rainy season. Wow, they don't joke when they mean it rains...just for fun, here is a "before" the rains picture of my street, and here is an "after" the rains picture...I feel like I live in a river bed.

My village before...really green isn't it?!

During a rainstorm...we'll call it the "River Banzon"

The last unexpected turn of events would be my health...definitely one thing that I have no control over! If you have been reading the blog, you are aware that my dental problems have been extensive here. I don't know what it is about Burkina Faso...but my teeth have just said "screw you!" Well, I am currently in Ouagadougou, the capital city, because it looks like I will be flown to Dakar, Senegal for a root canal procedure of some kind. Unfortunately, I don't have a lot of details. A few weeks ago an abscess appeared in my mouth, and from there things have just been spiraling. My dentist back home said I have bone loss?? Could require a bone graft?!?! And definitely a root canal?!?!?!?! I have conquered my fear of needles thanks to Peace Corps and a list of vaccinations a mile long...so this should be a peace of cake right? What's one more phobia to conquer? This is just another reason to let go of the situation, since it is entirely out of my control, and go with the flow...or as I said in the title...life is a rollercoaster...so it's time to open my eyes, let go, lift my arms in the air, and enjoy the ride.

Hope all is well...don't forget to look at the entry below for my fundraising website link, and for the new pics. Et aussi, n'oublie pas, I am coming to the States Oct. 30 - Nov. 26 so clear your calendars! Missing everyone...stay close!

NYC Marathon Quest...show the love baby!!

2007-08-06T12:19:00.000-07:00

Hello all!

I know you are going think I am crazy...and nothing is certain 'til I strap on the shoes and go to the starting line, but the rumors are true...I am running in the NYC Marathon this November 4, 2007!

Go to this link to support me as I run in support of the Children's IBD Center of Mt. Sinai! They work with patients suffering from Crohn's/Colitis. I have to raise $2500...so that is 250 $10 donations, 25 $100 donations, 500 $5 donations...so get out those wallets people and support this wonderful cause, and me, as I strive to train in Burkina Faso, West Africa!!!

Here is the link...so get to clicking!

Steph's Fundraising Page

Thank you for all of your continued support. I will be back with a more detailed post of all the new happenings here in the Faso...but am a bit limited on time!!

Also, n'oublie pas...check out my photos page for a few pics from my girls camp, and lots of pics from my shea butter formation! It has been so much fun and interesting...

Steph's Pics

Stay Close!

Mission Accomplished!

2007-07-14T14:44:00.000-07:00

Hello all! WOW, what a whirlwind couple of weeks this has been! My 4th of July was a blast! My friends Leslie, Julia, and Kelly came to celebrate the holiday in my village, which made it all the more festive. I had a grill constructed in my backyard, and was able to get ground beef, beef ribs, and a pintard (which is pretty much just like a chicken). We barbecued, made potato salad, mashed potatos, salad, and chocolate cake...YUMMY!! It was really nice to have people over, to entertain, and just have some girl talk. It gets a little lonely out there...so it is nice to share the experience at times.

Now...for the shea butter...oh my goodness! It all started in Mali with my first introduction to shea butter, and ended with a visit from Mike's Aunt, Margie, who is looking at possibly importing bulk shea butter to the United States. We toured for an entire week around Burkina looking at and talking to various producers and shea butter experts. I have learned so much about this beautiful product, watched countless women work together to produce it, and talked with numerous experts on the benefits and the difficulties. There were so many times as we traveled around throughout the region that I just wanted to give a hug to each and every woman that was there. I felt a pride, a pride about the women, a pride about their work, that I had never felt before. It was truly amazing to see these women work together for a common aim, and to have the opportunity to be in control of their financial and professional lives. I don't even know how to accurately describe it, except to say that it was simply beautiful...I hope to have some photos from the trip posted soon so that you can see a little bit of what we saw.

One of the best parts about this trip happened on the second to last day of our travels. My goal all along had been to convince one of the shea butter producers to link up with my village so that my village could supply butter to their group. A quick background...the way shea works here is that women create cooperatives (co-ops) that are all trained in doing the work one universal way. However, because women are so spread out in the African bush, they have to do the work in their individual villages, and then have the main co-op group buy and transport it away. There are hundreds of shea butter producer groups in Burkina Faso, but only a small number of advanced producers. These producers go out into the villages searching for women's groups to link up with to expand their capacity. They then train the women in their techniques, and then guarantee that they will buy their butter. After all of my work, and all of my calls, and all of my conversations, I was able to secure just that for my village...and I couldn't be happier. A trader in Bobo-Dioulasso, my regional capital, agreed to entirely fund a one week training in my village for 25 women on the proper harvesting and processing techniques of shea nuts and shea butter, and at the end of the formation she will sign a contract with my women to buy all of their produced shea butter. Not only that, but another volunteer--Leslie--was with me at the meetings and she secured a fully-funded training for her village as well (thanks to the generosity of Margie--Mike's Aunt--at Alnor Oils). It is a pretty amazing feeling when things just start falling together, and I am quickly learning that if you do good work, and practice patience, things will work out in the end...and it is a pretty satisfying feeling. I look forward to posting pictures in a few weeks of the formation.

Most of the shea process is done by hand, and can take up to three days to complete. There is something magical about watching them produce the butter...the rythmic beating of their hands as they clean and mix the butter with water. Truly truly amazing! Here are a few pics that I happen to have from our little tour of Burkina:

Here a woman is cleaning the shea puree before boiling and attaining the final butter.

Here the women are mixing the shea liquid with water to attain what you saw in the first picture, which is a fluffy, almost mousse-like, consistency.

After they mix it, it ends up looking like this..doesn't it look like cake batter or chocolate mousse...yummy!

Here is a picture of a shea tree

Anyhoo...as you can tell, I had a wonderful week, got to spend some quality time with Mike's Aunt, met some wonderful people, got a training for my village, and so much more. It is the first week that I have felt "productive" (by American standards). Usually, productive is cleaning my house and drinking tea with a neighbor... On top of all this craziness, my girl's camp starts on Thursday, and as usual my procrastinating self has left all to the last minute. But, as I am quickly learning...things will just fall into place.

Alright...well, it is a tad late and I have to be on a bus in the morning back to my village, so I am going to head to beddy bye. Hope everyone is well...Stay close!

Fun, Sun, Staph Infection, and Laura Bush...all in my fun-filled Mali adventure...

2007-06-29T09:24:00.000-07:00

Hello all. I write you on the eve of my departure from Mali, and who knew that so much could happen in a week long period. First off, Mali is WONDERFUL! I have had such an amazing time seeing another country (including being bribed at the border just to get in), meeting other volunteers, learning about shea trees/nuts/butter, contracting a staph infection, and meeting First Lady Laura Bush.

To say that my trip here has been interesting is definitely not saying enough. I departed Bobo at 8:30 AM for my 14 hour "joy" ride to Bamako. I was told by countless volunteers to just buy my visa at the border. It is about $80 cheaper to do that...you just have to deal with the Malian Gendarmes. I approach the border guard and he immediately starts yelling in garbled French that I don't have a visa. "Why don't you have one? You can't enter...you have to go back to Ouaga and visit the embassy!" So, I tried to explain that I came from a village and that I didn't have time to purchase one, that I was coming for a formation, and that I was told I could get it here. He again starts his little tirade about how my friends were wrong...I had made a "faux" and that he couldn't help me. I started to get a little angry, but then it dawned on me that this is Africa...there is always a monetary solution. Trying to look resigned I started to walk away, only to have him trail after me. "Oh...talk to this guy...he'll take care of you." I get ushered over to this window where they tell me I have to pay 15,000 CFS ($30) or they were going to send me back. They hand me a receipt for 10,000 CFA, so I give them that. He continues to stare at me, and places his hand out again. It dawns on me that the other 5,000 CFA ($10) was the bribe--a cheap bribe if you ask me. I ask him why my receipt says 10k when they want 15k, and he very calmly explains that if I don't pay the extra money they will keep my 10k and just send me back to Burkina...nuff said...here's the $10.

Not surprising from a 14 hour bus ride, I arrived in Bamako with "cankles"....REALLY big "cankles." At first I thought it was just the transport...but I was neglecting to remember the cuts on the bottom of my feet that I had gotten due to all my running. As the days progressed my feet only got bigger, and then developed sores on the ankles. It got to the point where I could barely walk. But, as most PC volunteers know...we practice a grin and bear it approach to feeling sick or being injured. I finally break down and went to see the PC Mali nurses in Bamako where I learn I have a staph infection...FUN! So, needless to say I had to wrap both my feet up like casts and I am now on a seriously strong bout of antibiotics to knock this stuff out of my system. Oh, I love Mali!

Regardless, I spent a fabulous week at a shea butter formation learning all about the opportunities that exist in the shea butter industry in the world market, how to produce good nuts/butter, how to create/manage women's groups that could produce/harvest the nuts, and more. It was really invaluable for me as I work to get shea groups established in my village, and help various organizations with exportation and selling overseas. From what I have learned, Shea Butter is quite a hot commodity on the world market. What makes it wonderful is that shea production is done almost exclusively by women, so it gives them an opportunity to take ownership and control over a part of their lives, in a society where they are not allowed that much autonomy to begin with. It is really inspiring to sit at a table with 25 Malian women as they become empowered by knoweledge, and discover the confidence to create their own enterprises. I can't wait to take this information back to Burkina Faso and get the ball rolling there. Burkina Faso (along with Ghana) are actually the two most developed countries in regards to Shea Butter/Nut refining and exportation...so there is so much exciting opportunity in this area and I am only skimming the surface. Not only that, but the formation was held in Siby, Mali....a world famous hiking and rock climbing spot--and even though with my infected tootsies I couldn't really take advantage, it was beautiful scenery.

As if things couldn't get better, we heard that the First Lady was making a stop in Bamako, Mali and we were invited to head out to the Ambassador's Residence and meet/greet her. Here is a little pic from the meeting:

There I am in the front row with several Peace Corps Mali volunteers...

It was so much fun. She stopped and thanked all of us for our service, and talked about some interesting initiatives that she is working on to battle Malaria and HIV/AIDS Nutrition (check out http://www.developmentingardening.org/. That is Sarah's NGO that Mrs. Bush personally visited).

I have had such an amazing time on my trip to Mali...meeting new people, conquering crazy infections, and shaking hands with the president's wife (even if I don't necessarily agree with most...actually all...of his policies). Well...I am off tomorrow...14 hours back home...FUN TIMES!

A smile to your face...

2007-06-21T00:17:00.001-07:00

Hello all. It has been a few weeks since I arrived back in Burkina Faso, and so I thought I would send out a little message to say hello. Things here are going well, and after a bit of a hard time transitioning back to life here in Burkina, I am feeling settled again.

I am passing through Bobo on my way to Bamako, Mali to attend a formation about the production/marketing of Shea Butter. It's an African trademark, and can be used in anything from shampoo to chocolate! It's an amazing, and severely under-utilized resource. Mike's Aunt is coming in July to tour some Shea Butter facilities in Burkina, and they are interested in exporting to Europe/US...so there are a lot of interesting opportunities on the horizon. I just might do something in the business sector after all...WOO HOO!

I have been feeling a bit introspective lately thanks to a book I have been reading, Tales of a Female Nomad (Rita Golden Gelman), which I HIGHLY recommend. It really forced me to look at my time here, and to appreciate it for the little things, the things that bring a smile to your face...that brighten your day. So, I thought I would share an experience that I just had...something that brought a smile to my day:

The sun peaks through my straw hangar, the thwack of the axe can be heard from across my courtyard, and the naying of the donkeys signal another day has begun. In Burkina Faso the last thing that I need is an alarm clock. As if set to a timer--even though usually NOTHING runs on time--my village comes to life as the sun peaks over the horizon. The people--and animals--start their day, whether I am ready for them to or not...there is NO snooze button.

I jump out of bed, thankful for the morning coolness as it flows over me, knowing that in 3 hours the sun will beat down and I will have to take refuge for a while from its rays. The mornings have always been my favorite, not only for the gracious breeze and cool air, but for the sounds and sights of my village coming to life.
For me, my mornings are the same. I lace up my shoes, take a gulp of water, and I set off. I pass several of my neigbors, all of whom have been up for hours already preparing breakfast and lunch, washing the children, cleaning the house, and preparing to set off to the fields--it is the rainy season and everyone has a field to tend to. As I run past I wave hello and pass my morning greetings to my neighbors--"Aw ni Sogoma," I shout as I jog by--Good morning in my village's local language of Joula. We rush through the greeting ritual as I pass by. At this point the odd looks have subsided, and most people just know me as the crazy american girl that "faire's le sport." Running is never done unless trying to get away from something, or in playing soccer...and most certainly not done that often by a girl.

I continue on my path through the mango groves which are teeming with ripe mangos. Their scent fills the air and I have to resist ripping one off the tree and eating it right there. I don't know if I will ever be able to buy fruits from a supermarket again. I wave to the villagers and children who are already in the grove, picking the mangos for sale in the market. I pass as the children make their way to school in the morning, carrying their little rice sack backbacks as they bound along. I dodge the various cattle, goats, and pigs along my route, Passing the river, and continuing on into the rice fields. The view is spectacular, and a far cry from 9 months ago when I was staring at the New York skyline from my office window. Oh, how much my life has changed in such a short time.

As amazing as all of this is, it is the end of my run that I look forward to the most. As I crest the hill out of the mango grove the familiar cry pierces the air. There is Brahim, my two-year old neighbor. "Madame! Madame!" he cries as he sees me come over the hill. He darts towards me from his courtyard, his little legs carrying him as fast as he can go. His eyes are lit up, and there is a smile on his face
that could light the world. Normally we shake hands, high five, and I pat him on
the head...but today is different. As he runs up I put my hands out and UP he jumps giving me the biggest little bear hug that he can muster. He has always been so shy to this point, and his affection surprises me. "Bonjour," he says...the only word of French I am sure he knows. He props on my hip and I jog him back to his mother. He pops down to the ground, gives me a hug and then runs back to his house.

I wave goodbye and finish up my run, just a little more energized than the moment before. Happy...content...that his hug is one of the highlights of my day...and something to look forward to every time I crest that hill to make my way home.
Anyways...I hope all is well. I will update you soon on the happenings in Mali. Also, the tickets have been purchased...THAT'S RIGHT FOLKS...October 30-November 26th...Stephanie's Tour of America! I will be landing in NYC to visit Mike and friends, run the marathon with a Peace Corps buddy, party, EAT, and just relax. Then I am off to the big salty 'Ham (Birmingham to those of you who don't know) for family visits, my Dad's wedding, hopefully the Iron Bowl, and much more. Start planning your parties now...and our restaurant schedule. We are a mere 4 months away! Love you and miss you all...STAY CLOSE!

Shalom Y'all!

2007-05-27T00:16:00.000-07:00

Shalom! Yep, I am greeting you from the Middle Eastern paradise of Israel. I made it here in one piece, and Mike and I are enjoying ourselves as we tour around this amazing country.

Okay, first, I know you are dying to hear about the success/failure of my Starbucks mission. My plane landed in Paris 30 minutes early (6:00)…so I thought I was golden. I disembark and easily make my way to the metro station to go to downtown Paris. I met several nice people—I know, I was surprised to find nice French people too—who helped me navigate to the central train station. I was told to hop on this other subway and take it all the way to the end. I would be able to find my elusive Starbuck’s. Everything was going exactly according plan…as I passed the stops for the Louvre and the Arc de Triomph I couldn’t help but smile to myself. That’s right…I was doing it…I was in Paris. In your face all you naysayers!! It took a bit longer than I thought, but I finally made it to my station and realized that I was in a shopping mall…and there was a Starbucks. I got a little nervous when I saw that all the shops were closed…but there was no way that a Starbuck’s was closed. It’s a coffee shop, they open up early right? I make it up the stairs and my mecca comes in to view. My face drops as I see that the metal doors are closed…and locked! CLOSED? CLOSED! How could that be? It isn’t possible. I felt like Clark Griswold from Family Vacation. I should have broken in and make my own damn Caramel Macchiatto. At this point, the time at this point was 8:00 and the Starbucks didn’t open until 8:30. My flight left at 10:30 (boarding at 9:40)…did I have time to wait? I tried fruitlessly to find another neighboring—and open—Starbucks, but to no avail. Do I (A) wait until 8:30 for the Starbuck’s to open and get my macchiato and risk missing my flight, or (B) get back on the train…I am crazy, but nevertheless reason won out and I boarded the subway to go back to the airport. I felt so dejected as I rode the subway…to make matters worse some old lady boarded the train at the Louvre stop sipping on a steaming Starbucks beverage. I have never stolen anything, or ever felt tempted to hit an old lady…but I came pretty close here. I felt like she was taunting me with that thing. Anyhoo, I get back to the main station and switch over to the train that is going to take me to Charles de Gaulle. There is a HUGE crowd of people, and there is a lot of talking going on over the loudspeaker. The first train is being held up, and according to the monitor all the trains for CDG are “Delayed Departure”…commence heart attack please. At this point it is 9:15 . I have 25 minutes to make my boarding, and 1 hour 15 minutes until my flight takes off. Mike has already arrived at the airport and he has NO way of contacting me…so I am sure he is seething in the airport—especially since he called me about 5 times before I left Burkina to persuade me not to go on my insane mission. I board the next train which says that it is going to CDG, but as soon as the door closes the person standing next to me says…”Pardon me, this train isn’t going to Charles de Gaulle”…commence 2nd heart attack. He tells me I have to get off at the next stop, and pick up a different train. 9:25…clock is ticking away. I get out at the next stop, and once again the loudspeaker is going full blast, and I can see countless travelers throwing down their tickets, cursing, and running for the exits. OH SHIT! What? Then I listen very hard to the loudspeaker…what is this that I hear…”All trains departing for Charles de Gaulle are cancelled. Service has been interrupted.” At this point I about passed out…it was 9:30. I run out of the station and decide I am going to have to flag down a taxi. It is about 25-30 minutes to the airport from where we are, but all I have is 20 Euros…so I need to get some cab sharing partners. I spot an American couple from across the station and I dart over. Luckily, they are VERY nice…and we quickly decide to share a taxi. The only problem is that it is us, and every other person that wanted to go to the airport that is trying to hail a cab. We try for a while to get a cab, but none will stop. I am whispering expletives under my breath, and I continue to repeat, “This is my nightmare. Oh my gosh, Mike is going to kill me.” I see a man departing a taxi 20 yards ahead and I run and flag down the taxi man…because of some weird taxi laws he can’t pick us up there, but he will pull around. I was relieved to see that he actually did like he said. In the end, I made it to my gate at 10:10…with a very unhappy Mike glaring at me from across the terminal. All that craziness, about 30 Euros ($40 or so), and what did I have to show for it? Definitely no Starbucks…but I can laugh about it only because I made it to my flight…and I can’t ask for much better than that. Plus, little did I realize that Israel has the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf…and I like that A LOT better than Starbucks!

I wish I could say that my blunders stop there…but of course I had to make an idiot out of myself at least one more time. Mike and I spent our first few days touring around the magical and ancient city of Jerusalem. From there we had booked a tour to Masada—this mountaintop Jewish fortress built by King Herod, and the site where over 900 Jews committed suicide rather than fall into the hands of the Romans—and the Dead Sea. We arrived at the hotel where we were waiting for the tour bus to arrive and pick us up. With all the hounding I get as a white person in Burkina I have become quite good at ignoring people that are trying to sell me things or bother me. Anyhoo, Mike walks away for a second to get us coffee and this man approaches me. “Taxi, Taxi?” is what I thought I heard him say. I quickly reply, “no, no…no thank you” and go back to ignoring all of those around me. Mike comes back from coffee, and we continue to wait. 20 minutes rolls by, and the tour company is late. About 10 more minutes later the tour company calls Mike on his cell phone. “We are here, where are you?” Of course Mike tells them we are waiting out front. They tell him they are going to come around again. So, another 5 mintues later the same taxi man that approached me before, approached again. At this point I’m like, “yo dude, I said no taxi…damn.” He keeps repeating himself, and Mike starts going over there. I kept telling Mike to ignore him, he is just a taxi guy. Well, as it turns out the man was not saying, “Taxi” but “Dead Sea”…as in our tour group. For 30 minutes about 8 people were waiting in a van, staring at us, and all because I thought this guy was trying to offer me a taxi ride. I even tried to pull Mike back when he went to talk to the guy. You would think he could have made an actual sentence like, “Tour to the Dead Sea” or “Are you going to the Dead Sea.” Oh well, they didn’t leave without us. I have just gotten so good at shutting out unwanted attention…

Anyhoo, besides a few minor blunders on my part, the trip has gone amazingly well. I have been very pleasantly surprised of the beauty of this country, and in our 10 days here Mike and I have managed to dot our way to several places. We went to Jerusalem for 2 days, spent 1 day touring Masada (a fortress built by King Herod on top of this plateau where all 900+ inhabitants committed suicide when the Romans defeated them) and the Dead Sea—you REALLY float…it is amazing. I had a few rashes and cuts left over from Burkina, and when I stepped in that water my whole body was on fire! Salt may be good for the wounds, but it definitely limited how long I could stay in the water. After that we returned to his Aunt’s house where we took a drive to a little mountaintop village. After that we headed up north to the Sea of Galilee (not really a sea, a lake…and the place that Jesus walked on water, and fed 5000 people with 2 fish and 5 loaves of bread). This I have to say was my favorite place. I love lakes muich more than oceans, and we had access to natural hot springs. We laid out on the “beach” and swam in the lake. We also took a drive up to the Golan Heights (not as dangerous as it was before). This area is AMAZING! We went to a nature reserve, checked out some waterfalls, ate at this really cute kibbutz, and just drove around admiring the scenery. After that we headed back and stopped off in Haifa—the 3rd largest city in Israel—a city that is built right into a mountainside. There we toured the Ba’Hai Gardens. This is a garden/shrine dedicated to the Ba’Hai faith. This garden was unbelievable, and built all the way up the mountain. The gardens were impeccable…I will try and post some pictures because there is no way I could do it justice with words. It houses a shrine to their founder—they believe that all religions are equal and at their core the same. They believe that men and women are equal, and await a day when there is one world government and one world language. I don’t know what I think about that…but I like the whole everyone is equal, we are all the same part. After that we headed once again back to Mike’s Aunt’s house where we relaxed, saw Pirates of the Carribbean: At World’s End—which I thought was quite good except for several plot holes/undeveloped characters, but on the whole a fun time.

I know some of you feared for my safety while I was in Israel…but worry not. As wars rage less than 50 kilometers away in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip, the rest of Israel goes about their daily lives…they live and exist, in spite of all the violence and danger, normally and happily. Yes, every place you go you have to walk through metal detectors and have your bags searched, but it is a small price to pay, and it is a way of life for them now. Imagine if whole sections of your state…were completely off limits to go…an invisible line that you absolutely don’t cross! I was talking to Mike’s Aunt about the suicide bombings, and how she lives with it…I could never imagine that in America. I can’t imagine living every day thinking that a bomb could go off in a shopping mall or a movie theater. In such a calm and sure way she said, “Oh, it will come to America. It’s only a matter of time.” It was a shocking statement at first…but sadly a statement that is all too true. How long until the conflict and the fight comes knocking on our own doors? Before metal detectors and security guards start popping up at coffee shops, malls, and outdoor parks? All for what? For a religious ideal…it seems so absurd to me…but I guess you can’t make sense when you are talking about people that don’t have any…well…sense.

We are now preparing to go our separate ways—I to Africa, and Mike back to New York. I think it will be harder this time, not only to leave one another, but also to go back to my life. It is so difficult to wrap my head around the idea that a world like this—modernistic and capitalistic—exists outside of Burkina. How one place can have SO much, and another place have virtually nothing at all. It doesn’t seem fair, but at the same time that’s life…it isn’t exactly always fair or just. Plus, do I really want to see a place like Burkina become “Amercan-ized” with shopping malls and McDonald’s dotting the landscape? I put my third-world life on hold to join the first-world…and now I must go back. At least I have the option to switch around…

Let Operation GSCMBSKS Begin

2007-05-17T02:45:00.000-07:00

Hello from Ouagadougou...again! I hope everyone is doing well out there. It is, as always, HOT here! Today is Thursday, which means I am a little over 24 hours away from boarding a lush Air France flight on my way to Paris! It doesn't even seem like reality to me...I am so worried that I am going to turn into a Beverly Hillbilly the second that I load the plane. TOILET? There is a toilet? What...I get a choice between chicken or beef? Um...YES, wine please!! "Well, I'll be...kick me over and call me Susy, cause by golly I think them there attendants are gonna play one of them movin' pictures up on that little screen...Yee haw!" Hopefully I can clean enough dirt off me so as not to scare the other passengers. I am still plotting on how I can smoothtalk the flight attendants into letting me sit in business class...coming from village in my ratty clothes I can't certainly rely on my looks for this one...maybe my Burkinabe charm?

Okay, for anyone that knows me, my obsession with Starbucks runs deep. Up to this point I have been Starbucks free for 8 months. I consider the Peace Corps like detox really...forced detox, but whatever. Maybe Britney Spears should consider Peace Corps instead of Promises...anyhoo...after 8 months of instant Nescafe coffee, you can't blame me for wanting to get a decent cup a joe. So, I surfed the internet for quite a while and I have put together an action plan...we'll call it "Operation GSCMBSKS" (Get Stephanie a Caramel Macchiatto Before She Kills Someone). In using Google Earth and any other map program I have discovered that there are 28 Starbucks locations in the Paris, France area. NONE of which, by the way, are in the airport...HELLO!! My flight gets in at 0600 hours, and my connection isn't until 1000 hours. Mike arrives at 0800 hours...which leaves me a 2 hour window to complete the operation. If I can board the metro line to downtown Paris--which is approximately 25 minutes one way--I can hit up one of the 20 that seem to be centered around the Metro Stations. That leaves me enough time to take a glance at the Eiffel Tower, hop back on the Metro, and be there to greet Mike at our connection gate to Israel sipping my Tall (okay, lets be honest, it's probably going to be a VENTE) Skim Caramel Macchiatto. Oh, my mouth is watering on the keyboard right now...I can just smell it. Maybe I should buy a thermos and try to store some for later. Or, now that I have my car battery in my house, I could by an espresso machine for my hut...EUREKA! Okay, well, that is going too far, but it is a nice thought. I think back fondly on my last Starbucks Caramel Macchiato on my way to JFK airport. We stopped at a reststop and I told that barista to make the best damn machchiatto in the world, like his life depended on it. Oh, it was good...and now I am focused on my mission to procure another of those fine sweet delicacies. Oh yes, I shall prevail. Guided by my limited West African french, no knoweledge of the Paris transit system, and a nose that could smell a Starbucks coffee from a 10 mile radius...let's do this! I may be going to Israel, but the hightlight of my trip will be sipping that frothy, warm, sweet beverage...oh it's the small things in life now.

Okay, I don't want to toot my own horn...but bear with me for a minute...because I am glowing. The past couple weeks have been really amazing. As time goes on, I slowly am realizing where I fit in...in my village, in my life, in my own skin. I don't know why it suddenly dawned on me, but I just had one of those moments where everything made sense and I was just content with where I was. I ride through my village and little kids chase after me and call my name, I greet my neighbors every morning on my run, I play soccer every evening with some boys in my village--and I am earning a reputation for my play...I draw crowds...probably not for skill as much as being white and a girl, but whatever. I love sipping my coffee on my porch in the morning, or reading/napping in the afternoon. I have even gotten several projects off the ground, that have thus far proven rather rewarding. I held my first health meeting with the women, and over 70 women showed up! I talked about Malaria, and we held a raffle at the end where I gave away 3 mosquito nets and some mosquito-blocking incense. The women LOVED it, and from what I hear--because of the prize raffle--there are going to be quite a few women there next time. They keep telling me 200, but I will see it when I believe it. Generally, I am opposed to prizes, but since they are topic-related, and the women have to answer relevant questions to win...I think it's fine. It was so satisfying to see that room bursting at the seams. I also started an English Club with the high school kids where I am going to show American movies--Pixar, or other fun kids movies--in English with French subtitles, as well as have meetings and open reading hours...I am sure I can spare some US Weekly's for them to read...HAHA! Relevant English, ya know. Lastly, I held my first meeting with the girls in my village about a Girls Camp, and over 30 girls signed up! I wasn't even expecting 20 at the meeting, but I had over 50!! I really want to work with young girls on their self-esteem and making relevant/wise life choices. I know you are thinking, but Stephanie you are a business volunteer, well that may be, but I have found that my work varies quite a lot, and I am happy to go where it takes me. I am teaching a marketing seminar in June...so at least that is related to my focus. There is no way to determine how these activities are going to turn out, and I won't be happy or on a high every single day in village, but it really feels good to be doing this work. As much as I miss home, family, and friends--and I miss you terribly--things just feel very right...That is the only way I can describe it.

Okay, I am all done being all Mr. Rogers...I just had to get that out. Anyhoo, so village is good, my kitty is good, my health is pretty good, I am about to see Mike for the first time in 8 months, and I am 48 hours away from sipping on a Caramel Macchiatto...there is no way that I couldn't be content right now.

I have finally got my video camera up and running and should have a clip from village of my village women at work. It is amazing, and gives a whole new meaning to whistle while you work. I should have that posted after I get back from Israel...and I hope to continue posting video clips so that you can get some "Day in the Life" glimpses...so, STAY TUNED!

Love you guys, and as always, Stay close!

A Small Update...

2007-04-27T11:24:00.000-07:00

Well, well, well...how is it going out there? It has been a little while since I last wrote. Honestly, it is because I have had too much to say, and every time I sit down and write something I can never think of exactly what to say. Anyhoo, I am in Ouagadougou--the capital--right now doing a workshop called "Measuring Success." I think it is all about making our results here quantifiable in numbers...which is hard to do considering my work consists of sleeping, eating, and talking with people...I can tell you that sleeping takes up 53% of my day at approximately 12.2 hours per 24 hour period...that's what I learned. WOO HOO! Okay, I am just kidding...well not about how much I sleep, just about the workshop. We are learning a technique of measuring levels of awareness in our villages regarding certain topics (Malaria, HIV/AIDS, Malnutrition) and monitoring that level as we do our work to see if we are being effective. One of the members of my organization came here with me, and overall it was really helpful. He is totally motivated to go back and start our work...and the work that we did this week is going to be made into a book that will be given to Peace Corps Volunteers all over the world...kind of cool I guess. There are so many lovely perks to being in Ouaga...the biggest being FOOD!!! I have eaten so well since I have gotten here, and I am sure I have padded my frame even more than it already is. Excellent!!

So...I am sure you are wondering what I have been up to. Well, besides sleeping, reading, running, sweating, and hippo watching on tax payer dollars....I have been quite busy. When I got back from training I immediately did a composting project with my association and a local farmer. This composting technique could save him upwards of $300/year. Which is HUGE in Burkina Faso. He really enjoyed it, and I enjoyed my first experience with a gigantic pile of pig poo. Who knew that they could produce that much poo...but oh they can. There I was just stopping around in it barefoot, packing it into the compost pile. Yeah...my inhibitions have completely dissappeared when it comes to poop-related things (well, except for the human form...just gross....ECH!). It was very successful, and with the help of my Agriculture agent in village we are hoping to expand the technique to other farmers.

I also put together a formation to teach several leaders in my village about the benefits of a tree called Moringa (http://www.moringatrees.org). It is a pretty amazing tree whose leaves contain all of the vitamins necessary to combat malnutrition. So, they just have to dry the leaves, make it into a powder, and add it to their food. I talked with several women's groups and I am hoping to start a small plantation and get them to sell the powder in the marche to make money. I am also looking to implement this powder into the Maternity Ward for women giving birth...to use for themselves and their babies. I think this could be very cool.

Lastly, with a group of about 8 women (well, I asked for 8 but about 15 showed up) I held a formation on creating wood conserving mud stoves. I was dreading this activity at first, but I have to say that it went extremely well! We made over 15 stoves, and with them they can conserve up to 50% of the wood that they use. Here in Burkina if you want wood you either have to buy it or chop it down yourself...so this saves them a lot of time and money. Like I said before, I have no problem with poo from any animal...except when it is fresh. Look, the poo I work with is nice and dry...like a powder. So, when I asked the women to bring a bucket of dried poo to the workshop...I thought it would be no big deal. Well, all of them came with big hulking buckets of fresh cow poo...and what might you ask did I have to do with that? Well, stomp on it barefoot of course! Yeah, I wasn't too happy about it. I have a high treshold for all things gross...but this crossed the line. What made it even worse, is that when we were finished making the "banco" (the mud used to construct the stoves...like clay), a small child that was with his mother started eating it...yup...poop and all. HELLO!?! And they need me to tell them why they have health problems? Hehehe...oh Burkina...it is just full of fun surprises and stories.

Living here in Burkina Faso has taught me so many things. I am in awe and wonder at this country, and in the same instant am beyond frustrated. There are so many obstacles that the people living here face, and they meet them with such grace and fortitude. I truly am in awe about their resilience and spirit, and I hope that with that we can accomplish a lot...it's a tough road...but slowly we are putting along.

Anyway, going back I am pretty stoked (that's right...I use that word...) to start my data collection, and some of the other projects that I want to work on. I am definitely doing my business workshop, and I am still debating between a girls club and camp...not sure yet. Anyhoo...saving my village one activity at a time. HAH...yeah right. Well, at least I am keeping myself busy as I approach my vacation to Israel with Mike...YEAH!!! I can't tell you how excited about that I am.

Sorry this post wasn't filled with lovely anecdotes or hilarious stories...I figured my last post was good enough. My heart goes out to the people at Virginia Tech. I was sitting in my marche and some policemen in my village approached me--having heard about the incident--and asked me why we did things like that over there. And, to be honest, I don't think there is an answer for that. There is no answer or solution that will ever suffice...we just have to be vigilant, and send our thoughts and prayers to the families affected.

I hope all is well back home...stay in touch...and stay close!

ALSO, check out my photo page (http://www.flickr.com/photos/srgottlieb/) for ALL NEW photos!!!

Also, stay tuned for Stephanie's Book Review Corner...

Burkinabé Culture 101

2007-03-23T09:54:00.000-07:00

Hello all…again. Now, I know what you are thinking…how can this girl post so much? Isn’t she in Africa? Well…yes I am, and yes I have been posting a lot. I have returned from my week long local language training in my village and I am taking this opportunity to send this out to everyone because I don’t know when I will get internet access again. I want to give you an update on my cat, but I have a little fun Burkinabé culture lesson first. I was talking to some friends about some odd Burkinabé quirks that we have noticed are picked up. It is a little early to be worried about this just yet…but I often wonder how I will ever be able to make the change back to America…the pace of life…working. I mean, what would my boss say if I said, “well, I’ll take the job but I would like to have a nap time between 12:00-3:00 thanks.” I think that they would look at me like I just grew a third arm…here are a few other quirks of Burkinabe culture that at this point seem common place:

Nose picking – remember how your mother always told you… “don’t pick your nose dear…that is impolite and gross.” Well, guess what all you closet pickers in the world (you know who you are…you’re the ones that glance around to make sure no one is looking and then you take a quick dig up there…you were just scratching right?) Well, in Burkina Faso you are free to dig for gold ANY TIME YOU WANT. In the middle of a business meeting…go right on ahead, get that booger obstruction out of the way and flick it on the floor. Having a serious conversation about global politics…dig around in there for your buried treasure. You can dig through your nose anytime, anywhere, and in the presence of anyone…it isn’t faux pas ladies and gentlemen.

Snot Rockets – Piggybacking on the whole nose picking topic, there is the always lovely blowing of snot rockets. That’s right, projectile mucus shooting…we could even have a competition. Now, I will admit to this one…look toilet paper and tissues are precious and with the sinus infections I have been having I don’t want to waste precious paper products on my nose. So, what do I do? Bend over at a 90 degree angle and make sure your nostrils are pointed towards the ground—you don’t want snot splattered all over your shirt do you? Hold one nostril closed and blow with all your might out of the other…if you are lucky you will get a perfect yellow projectile that shoots on the ground. It is okay to do this, just like the nose picking, anytime, with anyone, and anywhere.

Earwax Cleaning – in the US we use cotton swabs or Q-Tips…in Burkina that is a little bit of a waste when there are so many other adequate objects that can do the job for you. Look no further than your key ring for a perfect earwax digging device. The medical clinic in village sees a lot of cases where things have gotten lodged in ears, etc…maybe it’s time to rethink the whole car key method…

PDB (Public Display of Breasts) – Boobs, boobs…everywhere! Calling all men, calling all men…if you love breasts then Africa is the country for you. Actually, Africa will cure you of your breast addiction if you had one. Or, as Ben, another volunteer here just said, “It sure makes you appreciate the good ones.” Here in Burkina you can walk topless, pop your boob out to feed your baby, or just let ‘em swing in the breeze (and let me tell you they swing!). Truly, it is amazing. Imagine this…or don’t, whichever you prefer…these women have such saggy breasts that they can pick it up and flop it over a t-shirt collar no problem! It is truly a sight to see…and unfortunately for me I see it all the time. It is acceptable to do it anytime…the waitress wants to feed her baby while taking my order? No problem…just pop one of those suckers out and swing the baby under your shoulder like a purse and let him go to town. I will never look at breasts the same…can you imagine if in a business meeting or in the office in women just walked around with their breasts hanging out feeding their babies? Well, that’s how they do it in Africa. Now for those of you wondering…this is one habit that I haven’t picked up on…mostly because (A) I’m not pregnant and therefore can’t breastfeed, and (B) my chest is WAY to small to sling anywhere…

The World is your Bathroom – who needs a toilet? Using the bathroom on the side of the street was reserved in the States for when you are so drunk you aren’t even coherent enough to know what a bathroom is. As my Dad always told me…”just pop a squat!” If you see anyone squatting down, they aren’t looking for a dropped contact lens…chances are they’re pooping or peeing. Look, when you gotta go you gotta go…and I will admit that while running I have had to run into some small bushes…I don’t think I need to remind you of the explosiveness of my bowels…’nuff said I think.

Man-on-Man – This is an odd one I have to say. I would like to preface this by saying that in Burkina homosexuality is taboo and not talked about, and in all local languages the word for "homosexual" doesn't even exist. In the States a heterosexual man would never hold hands with another guy, or sit on his lap, or rub his shoulder, or squeeze his knee…it just wouldn’t happen. However, in Burkina Faso…it’s not a problem. There is no taboo when it comes to male-to male contact…aside from kissing. It is very interesting, and VERY different from American culture…

These are just of few of the strange cultural quirks that I am beginning to pick up the longer that I live here. I will admit to snot rocket blowing, and maybe an occasional nose pick…but NEVER have I cleaned my ears with car or moto keys.

Okay, so I kow you have all been dying for the news about Gateau my cat...hanging on the edge of your seat…sending out little animal prayers. I saved the news for last for two reasons: (1) because I wrote this entry last week before I knew the health condition of my cat so this is an add on and (2) I didn’t want to depress you. Well…ladies and gentleman I now have a one-eyed cat. As it turns out, some kids in the village shot a metal spike-looking object at him and hit him directly in the eye. I had asked my homologue and neighbor to take him to the vet, but evidently that didn’t happen and all they were giving him were these eyedrops…but guess what people…when a cat HAS NO EYE an eye drop is no good. I swooped in and took charge and had the veterinarian come over to take a look at him. You know it’s bad when a Burkinabé recoils from looking at him okay! Anyway, he gave the cat a shot of antibiotics and tried to look at what was left of his eye. His eye is “casse” – or broken. I was pretty upset about it, and more upset that children were shooting metal spikes at things—not just my cat—so I decided I would confront the little buggers. Well, that turned in to quite an ordeal. The kid that lives in my courtyard, Ali, saw the kid shoot at my cat—which makes me wonder why he didn’t stop him but that is a whole other issue—so he walked me over to meet this little terror. I carried the cat with me, and literally as soon as I was within earshot he starts yelling and telling me it wasn’t him and he points out another boy. That boy eventually implicates his older brother who isn’t even there. Well, I drew quite a crowd, and since the police station is so close they came to see what was going on. One thing led to another, they intimidated the kids a little bit, and we finally uncovered the culprit. That evening, as I was having a meeting with my organization this kid comes into my courtyard trailed by about 6 other children. He comes up and the poor guy is shaking and crying. He has the slingshot in his hand and he hands it over to me. I felt really bad…I don’t want them to be scared of the “toubabou,” and I had no intention of making it such a big deal. I told him not to worry, that I just wanted to talk with him and that I didn’t want anyone to get “frapped” – spanked. The next day I had a meeting at the police station with the chief of police, the two boys involved, their uncle, and their father. I basically said nothing, and my homologue spoke in Joulé most of the time. I told them at the end that obviously there is nothing that can be done now, but that I was just upset because in America we don’t value animals the same way they do here. I don’t mean it as a bad thing, I just mean that in America animals are like members of the family, where as here they are DEFINITELY not. A little cross cultural exchange… Anyway, I highly doubt that from this moment forward anyone will dare touch my cat…or at least I hope so. It was a huge ordeal, but in the end it was handled how I think it should have been. I don’t want to be the scary white girl, but here kids don’t respond to someone being totally nice…sometimes it’s good to scare the pants off of them to gain respect. I didn’t want to do it…but after talking with my homologue he told me that it was necessary. So, I have a one-eyed cat, who at the moment is a bit of an eyesore. I am hoping the bloody crusty part will fall off and it will heal up on its own. I didn’t post pictures for obvious reasons, but if you do want one let me know and I will email it to you…I have to admit…it is a bit gruesome.

Anyway, enough of the sadness…I will leave you with that. I hope that you are all doing well. The heat has officially come (it was 105° at my site) and I am already wondering how I am going to handle it. Honestly, I cannot even tell you what sleeping in 95°+ weather feels like…I kept my room in NYC at a comfortable 72°!!!! Oh Lord give me the strength, that is all I can say. Thanks for reading this far…as always, Stay close…and here is a new Joule phrase that I picked up:

Ala ka su heere (tile) di! – Have a great night (afternoon) – depending on when you read this!

A Palestinian and a Jew sit down in a hair salon...in Burkina Faso

2007-03-16T04:18:00.000-07:00

Hello all! I know you must be wondering about my title, and I promise you that I will get to that story all in due time. Right now I am in Ouagadougou wrapping up the end of our two weeks of training. I am headed back to village on Sunday to do some local language training for a week. I have to say that I am READY to be back at my site, and relaxing in my house. I have been surprised as to how much I just miss being in my village, doing my regular routine, etc. Plus, with all the cool stuff that we have been learning here in training I am ready to go back and start saving the world! HAHAHA! Well, at least digging a couple compost piles anyway...gotta start small.

So, yesterday I was sitting in a session when I received a text message from one of the members of my organization in Banzon. I HATED the fact that I had to leave my cat under their care for 3 weeks, but there was really nothing I could do. I have been calling to check up on him, but I have been worried that something was going to happen. Well, guess what...something did. I received a text message (in French, mind you, which makes it all the more hard to understand) stating that he went to check on my cat, and found him with only one eye...and something about little kids hitting him. Well, needless to say, I freaked out! Look, call me a crazy cat lady if you want...but try and put yourself in my shoes. I live IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE! My cat is basically my family...and that is a concept that Burkinabe definitely do not understand. Here in Burkina Faso the idea that a pet is a member of the family is absolutely unheard of...laughable even. Animals are meant for food (that's right...dogs and cats are yummy according to my neighbors), to kill other animals (cats kill mice, dogs kill small rodents), and to herd farm animals. Outside of that, they see no purpose in having a pet. The people here think I am crazy when I buy fish for my cat...fish that they LOVE to eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. "You are giving that to your cat? You are paying to feed your cat?" It is definitely an American/developed world ideal that they haven't picked up on...and how could they when they can hardly afford to feed themselves. ANYHOO...I called him back and told him to take him to the vet, and that I wanted an update. Well, unfortunately I can not tell you much in regards to Gateau's health at the moment. I know the veterinarian in my village looked at him and gave him some medicine...but I don't know whether he is missing an eye...whether a small child poked it out...whether they hurt him. It is all a mystery. One thing I do know is that in talking with several people in my village...I expressed to them that there will be hell to pay if I come back and my cat is dead. It is a little extreme...but if I find out which child hit him...well we are just going to have to have a meeting and discuss how we treat animals in the United States. One of the aims of the Peace Corps is to share American culture...so I am going to do that. You DO NOT hit animals...you just don't...and especially not mine. Okay...deep breath...SERENITY NOW!

I feel better now. So, back to my story about the Palestinian and the Jew. I was going to get my eyebrows waxed...that's right, you heard me right...there is an amazing salon in the capital city that does eyebrow waxing and she was amazing!! Anyway, afterwards my friend Veronica (the one with the roaches remember? Hehehe...she will hate me if she knows I refer to her like that...hahaha!) went to get her hair cut next door. I sat down on the couch to wait for her to finish her spa day, when this older man sat down next to me. I asked him where he was from and he said, "OOooohhhh...it is a country with a lot of violence. There is no peace there." Well, heck, that narrows it down. He just sits there with an amused look on his face as I play 20 questions...Syria, Iraq, Iran, North Korea, the Sudan...the list could go on forever. Finally, he concedes and tells me...Palestine. Well, of course I supidly respond by saying..."OH, really? I am going to Israel in May for vacation." Well, this just set of a firestorm. He starts retorting back to me that Israel is not a country, and that I am actually visiting "Palestine"...that the Israelis stole it from them, and continue to kill and torture his people. Now, before anyone goes and gets all huffy about this topic because I know it's sensitive, I just want to say that I have no leanings in either direction. I believe that in a lot of ways both sides are at fault. So, just take this as a funny/interesting story and nothing more. I didn't bring this up to start a Middle Eastern or Jew/Arab debate. Then he realizes that I am an American (DING...pretty obvious!) and procedes to rail me about our foreign policy, the war in Iraq, etc. This is a very deep conversation to be having in French...much too deep for my abilities. I admit to him, rather stupidly but honestly on accident, that I am Jewish. Well, that just opens up a whole can of worms. Several times Veronica looked over at me, and was seeing if I was alright...it definitely got a little tense there for a while. We debated for a while, he gets a little heated and I do my best to deflect. I told him, just like I learned in Kindergarten, can't we just share? In the end, we both agree to disagree on a couple of topics, and I tell him that I am sorry for his family's suffering and the suffering for all of those around the world..."I'm in the PEACE Corps...all I want is peace...is that too much to ask?" After sitting in silence for a while he turns to me and says, "thank you for this discussion." We shake hands, and then he offers me and my friend a ride home from the salon in his car. Now, I know what you are thinking...DON'T GO WITH HIM! I wouldn't do it in the United States, but here in Burkina we ex-patriates really try and stick together. So, Veronica and I rode home with this Palestinian man and his sister who was visiting from Morocco. Looking back on this experience I really feel like I bridged a gap here...I am after all in the Peace Corps right? Making peace one person at a time...hehehe.

Anyway, everything else is moving along. I am ready to get back and check on my cat and make sure he isn't one-eyed, or one-legged, or something like that. I am keeping my fingers crossed. Otherwise, I am doing really well! I am motivated and ready to get to work...and I just hope that feeling lasts! I am also excited for my trip in May to Israel (or Palestine...whichever your prefer). I hope everyone is doing well...Stay close!

It feels like home to me...

2007-03-10T02:32:00.000-08:00

I'm back in action in Ouahigouya, and man does it feel good. My first three months--and supposedly the most difficult part of Peace Corps service--has come to a close and I am back where I started in Ouahigouya for the second part of my training. After this, the Peace Corps releases me into the wild to begin implement whatever projects and ideas that I would like to do.

I can not describe to you the feeling that I had coming back here. It reminds me of when I would leave New York for vacation and come back to Alabama. When I walked into my host families courtyard I was immediately greeted by hugs, and "bon arrivee". I have never felt so loved in this country, except when I am here. I truly don't think I could have imagined that I would get so attached, but as of now this is the only place in the country where I feel truly loved...not loved because I am American, because they want a visa, or because they want money...I am loved because of me, and because I am a part of the family. They are my family...my Burkinabé family. No one will ever take the place of my family back in the States...but they hold a really special place in my heart that is for certain.

Training is going well, and I have to say that things are REALLY coming together for me here. I was a little scared that I would spend the next two years reading and knitting--which isn't necessarily a bad thing--but after collaborating with the rest of the volunteers and having a chance to reflect. I am psyched to get back to my village and start some projects. A lot of you were curious as to what types of projects I was going to be doing, so I thought I would give you a little bit of information. I have a lot of planning to do, but here are a few things that I am thinking about getting started with:

Composting - natural fertilizer for farmers...I am going to teach them how to make it, use it, and possibly sell it.
Moringa - If you haven't heard about this tree--which most of you probably haven't--it has 7x the Vitamin C in one orange and 4x calcium in one glass of milk. I want to work with my health center to sensibilize (teach) women about the benefits of its usage, how to grow it, and how to sell it. Malnutrition here is definitely a problem that I want to focus on.
Kick Aids Soccer Team - this is a program started by Africare where you play soccer while at the same time utilizing activities that teach kids about AIDS as well.
CEG Community Garden - I want to start an after school club where kids manage a vegetable/fruit garden. The profits that they make from selling the fruit they can use to buy books, dictionaries, etc.
Marketing Workshop - I am going to have a workshop with different "commerçants" (business people) in my village to teach them the basics of marketing and accounting.
Maison de la Femme Project - this is by far the most intensive one that I have. I am trying to get the government to give the women soap-making equipment, sewing machines, and other machinery to allow them to start some small business projects and trade schools. I have a lot of steps and governmental hoops to jump through...but I can't just watch a brand new building go to waste.

Anyway, that is just a list of a few things on my list. It is a bit ambitious and I am sure that some will fall to the wayside...but time will tell.

This past March 8th in Burkina was one of the biggest holiday's in the country...it is Women's Day. That's right, get down and worship the ground that I walk on, I am woman here me roar...all that good stuff. For our training, we had to put together an entire 4 hour event at a private school in Ouahigouya--including opening and closing ceremonies and activities for about 200 kids--and they gave us about 2 hours to plan it. We decided to have a field day type of event where the kids would rotate through activities stations...sounded like a good idea right? Well, I had to open my big mouth and say...why don't we do the human knot? You know that activity where everyone stands in a circle and grabs hands and then you have to untangle yourself into a circle again? Well, the Burkinabe definitely didn't know it. By the end of the activity kids had been stepped on, strangled, twisted, and everything else...and I don't think I saw them crack a smile once, except when I tripped on a rubber strap and busted my butt. Wow...a "nasara" falling on the ground is pretty funny to these kids. Maybe instead of doing an activity I could have just walked around falling on my ass for two hours. Hehehe! Yeah, our American idea of fun and the Burkinabé idea of fun is very different...and I don't know why it took me until now to figure that out. On top of that, I confused my Kiehl's 15 SPF lotion, and just the regular lotion...so now I look like a LOBSTER! We stood out in the blazing African sun for 2 1/2 hours...and I got FRIED! Ouch!

Anyway, a lot has been happening...but in the end I don't really have all that much to share. I am definitely adjusting and this place is feeling more and more like home to me...something I wasn't quite expecting. Also, my plans have been confirmed...ISRAEL, May 18-28!! I can't wait! Mike and I are meeting in Paris and continuing on. This is going to be amazing, I just know it!

Thanks to everyone, and as always...stay close!

Notes from village...

2007-02-26T07:27:00.001-08:00

My backyard...jealous yet?
Originally uploaded by GRITS in Burkina.

Hello all! It hasn't been too long since you last heard from me, and since I am sure you are still recovering from all the laughter, I will keep this kind of short. I am testing out this new thing where I can blog from Flickr--the place where I post all of my photos. I thought I would post a couple. Definitely go to my photo album to check out the photos...I finally got to meet a hippo up close and personal!

Things have been going pretty well since I last talked...no more gigantic roach colonies in the bathroom, thank goodness. I have had a few in my house, but the cat promptly gobbles them up...good kitty. I am headed to the capital to attend the FESPACO Film Festival...the largest film festival in Africa! I am SOOOO excited, I can not even tell you! It is going to be amazing. It will also be great to see some of the other volunteers that I haven't seen in the last few months. And, how could I forget...but YEAH ice cream and pizza! By the time I get back I will deserve the "Stephanie, tu devien grosse" comment...and you know what...that's okay because it will all have been worth it! Hah!

I have been helping out at the English college in my town...no, not what you would think of a college. A college here is the equivalent of a middle school in the States, except the students are anywhere from 12-17 years old. Kids kind of attend school off and on depending on if their parents can afford it that year or not. Anyway, it has been great, and truly it is a little selfish on my part because I really like to go talk to the English teacher...he is the only man in village who speaks English and he is only in village on Saturdays. Anyway, I pull up to the school on my bike to find the entire class (of over 115 kids) crouched on their knees in the gravel under the hot sun. Let me tell you, this sun is SUPER strong and we are talking about 100+ degrees at this point. Anyway, when I ask the teacher why they are out their he simply says..."oh..punishment." There is no explanation as to what kind of punishment...but I think they might have been talking to loud. Who knows! To anyone that complains about their class size teachers...put a cork in it. There were about 150 kids smashed into this teeny school room sitting on benches. 15 of the 150 actually had the English textbook, so the teacher had to write the exercises on the board. I was really blown away. It is so hard to comprehend, coming from the American education system, that the government can't provide the school with books to loan out to the students. I remember every school year getting my new/slightly used book and writing my name on the inside...and it was mine. These kids here, they can't do that. It really motivated me to try and do something like a fundraiser to raise money to buy loaner books for the whole school.

Anyway, enough Debby Downer attitude. I have a GREAT story to tell you. My friend Veronica...yeah the same girl with the roach-infested bathroom...came to my village to visit, and we decided that we would bike the 55k (roughly 30+ miles) to her village. The route between my village and hers isn't even on a map. It is just a dirt path, so wider than a couple feet, and little did we know that it would splitabout 10 times. Luckly, I had my handy dandy compass--well, we had it...I didn't say I knew how to use it. So, we packed our stuff and headed out. Little did I know that we would be riding across a freaking beach for 3 hours. Yeah, I thought I didn' live in the desert but I was all wrong! Have you ever tried biking across sand? It's HARD! By the time we reached our first stop, a town called Djigouera--only 30k on our 55k journey I thought I would die. But, it was too late to turn around at that point. We stopped in Djigouera to get a cold coke and have bite to eat, but little did we know that we would meet a very friendly, very strange, Liberian hooker. Yes, you heard me right...a Liberian hooker. Her name escapes me now...so let's just call her Jade. Why Jade? I don't know...it was the first name that came to my head. Wait, I'll do one better..how do you construct your hooker name again? First pets name and your street name? Okay, so we will call her Buffy Dovercliff...or Buffie for short.

Anyhoo, I digress. Back to Buffy the hooker. So, we pull in and she immediately comes up. It's a given that she has no bra and that her boobs hang WAY below her elbows...but I just wanted to give you a visual. She was actually very manly looking, and if not for the breasts I might have thought her a man. To even begin to describe the way she talked would be impossible, but as soon as she found out we were American she began to speak her completely unintelligible English. And, she absolutely had to add "man" at the end of every sentence. She tells us how she fled Liberia because of the war, and starts to tell us she was a prostitute...but because this part was in French I didn't exactly understand. I am sitting here thinking she is telling an entrepeneurial success story about how she fled Liberia to open up her own bar...but Veronica is looking at me really weird. So, I ask her to explain again and she says, "No, Oui, moi, je vende mon corps...personalmente." (No, i sell my body!") So, it suddenly dawns on me...OHHHHH....Eureka. She continues to elaborate and say, "tu comprend? No, to ne comprends pas." (do you understand? No, I don't think you understand). My face is beet red, and she is just starting at me...hello... AWKWARD! Needless to say, we high-tailed it out of there pretty quickly before she charged us for the conversation. Very odd...meeting a Liberian hooker on a village road. I never had it on a list of things to do before I died, but I gotta say it was pretty interesting.

I am writing you this email, so it is obvious that I survived our ride...but, just barely. By the time I made it to her village I was completely delirious. I could barely even walk...and I don't even need to tell you what my butt felt like. I won't be doing that for a while.

Well, I have written much more than I thought and I gotta run and get ready to head out. Thanks for all of the packages and support...again and again, I couldn't do it without you! Stay safe and stay close!

On a funnier note...roaches, pooh, and oh so much more...

2007-02-14T03:34:00.000-08:00

Hello all. Well, I am stopping off in Bobo on my way back to village. I decided to go to my provincial capital, Orodara, to visit with another volunteer, Veronica, and some government bureaus. In my village the government built a BRAND NEW Maison de la Femme (a house which the government designates only for women and where they train them to do skills like sewing, cloth dying, etc.)...but thanks to the overwhelming efficiency and competency of the Burkina government, they put no equipment in it. So, for 2 years it has sat empty and unused...a great use of government money I would say. Anyway, I have to deal with various government bureaus to try and help the women get equipment and furniture to put in it (sewing machines, tables, soap making equipment, etc.). I also want to start holding health classes and maybe French or English classes there...I have a lot of plans for this place. So, off to Orodara I went to kiss some butt for a little bit and see what I needed to do to make things happen...

Anyway, I went to the dentist and again they say that nothing is wrong with my teeth...except that I was prescribed 3 medications and now the entire right side of my mouth aches so bad I am virtually on the verge of tears. I have special mouthwash, special toothpaste, pills, and the worst toothache ever...that they chalk up to a receding gum line!! WHAT?! Anyway, if in two weeks it hasn't improved I may have to go to either Washington or Senegal for consultation with another dentist...good and bad at the same time. But, honestly I would delighted for my teeth to just stop hurting because it is getting unbearable. Oh well, ça va aller.

My trip to Orodara was EXTREMELY interesting and entertaining! I was hoping that with my friend living off the goudron (i.e. cement/paved road) that our ride there would be smooth...however that was not to pass. I think I brought my bad village transport luck along. About 3/4 of the way there our reliable bus decided it just couldn't make it any further...the steam coming out of the engine was quite an indication. So, everyone starts piling off the bus to sleep on the side of the road until someone came to pick us up. They were getting comfortable...which made me nervous. Surprisingly, it only took about 15 minutes for the rescue bus to show up. Veronica and I are standing there and all of a sudden people start making a mad dash for the rescue bus (it reminded me of the people at Target on Black Friday after Thanksgiving). It was hilarious. Veronica gives me a look and then she was off too...she succumbd to the peer pressure...so of course--hiking backpack and all--I take off towards the bus. The backpack proved to be a great blockage device as people tried to cut in front of us to get a seat on the much smaller bus. Yet, all was for naught because there was room for everyone. But, at least it was entertaining. Now, before I get ahead of myself i have to rewind a moment...I forgot an integral and hilarious part of our story. As we were waiting for the bus we were observing this mother and her newborn baby. "Oh what an adorable little baby...kinda gross he doesn't have on a diaper...but cute all the same. Oh, what is that baby doing? Wait...is that what I think it is...oh god!" Yeah, well, in Burkina Faso I have yet to see a diaper so here was this little baby taking a nice poo on his mother's leg. She is just chatting away jiggling the baby smearing the saffron--I like to be descriptive--colored poo all over her leg. Eventually she looks down and realizes what happened . Calmly she picks up some leaves off the ground and wipes the poo frolm her leg and then uses a piece of trash paper off the ground to wipe the poor baby. That poor baby is just sitting there looking like he is in pure hell...it would be like getting wiped with sandpaper. And to think of all the wipes and poweders that my brother Dave had for his baby...geeze Dave you know you could have saved some money on diapers and wipes by just letting him poop anywhere and use old trash or leaves for his butt...this baby didn't seem to mind too much. After, still with the poopy remnants on the baby and on her...she straps the baby onto her back (where later I am sure the baby probably peed on her...oh well)

Now, the fun didn't just stop at our transport. We arrive at Veronica's house around 5 and I have to say that it was SO cute! She has the cutest little 3 bedroom house..it reminded me of an apartment back in the States. She had electricity and a spicket outside...so this is like heaven on earth for me...that is until night fell. There is only one slight drawback to Veronica's cute little oasis...and that would be the bathroom. As you all know my bowel movements are anything but regular or controllable...so around 8:00 I had to go out and use her bathroom. I stroll quickly--because I have about a 1 minute window before "take off"--only to be confronted by a freakin' colony of roaches taking up residence in her latrine. Holy hell...I can handle lizards, flies, mosquitoes, spiders, hippos, chickens, and goats...but I CAN NOT handle roaches. It was right then and there...make a decision...piss and probably poo yourself or go in...as Nike says, "JUST DO IT"...well, I couldn't. I run back in and ask Veronica to come out there and help me...what she was going to do I don't know...offer moral support? Talk me through it? Go in guns blazing with some roach killer? I like the last one best...but that isn't what happened. The countdown continues on my colon letting go, so she tells me to use her host families bathroom next door. In a mad dash I sprint to their toilet and I just pull my pants down...there is no waiting now. I look up while in there and there are 3 freaking HUGE roaches staring back at me from 6 inches away. So, I fight the urge to scream, die, run, pass out--I don't want to get poo on me thank you very much--and just finish as fast as I possibly can. I sprint out of there and pray to god that I don't have to go back to her bathroom at night ever again (which I did...but it gets a little easier every time...and I armed myself with rocks the next time). Things like that build character I think...so roach-infested bathroom, I say to you, "BRING IT ON...cause I am ready now!!!" Hehe...hats off to Veronica for living with her bathroom at night, when the creepy crawlies come out to play...she is a trooper!

Anyway, other than the whole life scarring bathroom incident at Veronica's we had a blast...we sat up talking girl talk, eating cookies, cooking fabulous cheesy Orzo by Matthew Pava (the unholy badass of the kitchen...I bow down to you and thank you so much for my package and recipes). Now, here I go trooping back to village with my bag full of goodies that I received in the 7 packages that came (THANK YOU Mom, Matt, Cindy, Tiffany, and Mike's sister/mom/dad). I can't wait to get home and cook and read and eat...I do that everyday but it's more exciting with stuff from America. I hope you are all wall and I will keep you updated on the happenings. Training and FESPACO are 2 weeks away and then after that it is a I get to look froward to a rendevouz with Mike at the end of May (We were going to Paris, but now it turns out we are probably going to Israel...I AM SOOOOOO EXCITED!!!). I will let you know what my plans are...but darn I am a WORLD TRAVELER...hehehe! Miss and love you all...Stay close!

And on a more serious note...

2007-02-11T04:55:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I said I would post this last week...but thanks to the lovely infrastructure in Burkina the internet was out in the ENTIRE city of Bobo...so you had to wait a bit. Now I am back in Bobo because my teeth have decided to mutiny, and I have another appointment with the Burkinabé dentist...WOO HOO, wish me luck for that one!! Without further wait...here is the promised post:

I'm realizing that I am a development worker who's not completely sold on development. Maybe I'm just disillusioned with where all the newfangledness of Western life has gotten us. Maybe I see here what we lack: simplicity, community, a non-commercialized, revered culture.

Community in Africa still works...it's the glue in the face of catastrophes like AIDS and unrest. In the village no one falls through the cracks...I don't want to watch rituals crumble. I don't want to see children's games replaced by insipid images on a TV screen. I want no hand in Westernizing this village.

-- Nine Hills to Nambonkha, Sarah Erdman

I have a lot of time to read and this is one of the books that I came across, and in particular this quote rang true to me. For anyone that is more curious about what life is like here definitely check out this book. This was written by a Peace Corps volunteer in neighboring Cote D'Ivoire and the similarities are unbelievable...you can definitely get an inside look on what it is like (emotionally and physically) to be here.

It goes without saying that I have found harships beyond belief here, and before coming here I had done all of my necessary research. However, I have stumbled upon something so unexpected and unbelievably beautiful. In most representations of Africa (in the news and in any other media outlet) you hear and see images of starving children, warring tribes, sad and destitute people living in conditions that are completely intolerable. However, upon coming to Burkina Faso I have realized that these things exist, but not in the way that I would have imagined. These people are not sad and they aren't wasting away. I have found a vibrant and thriving culture that makes the best out of what it has...which in most cases isn't much. It is truly amazing to witness. I was having drinks with the English teacher at the local school, and he put it so eloquently in saying that African's are rich because they are poor. It seems such an odd thing to say, but after being here only 3 months I see how that is true. I expected to come into a society and culture that needed my help and assistance, but what I found was culture and a society that I need much more than they need me. They understand the true simplicity and importance in life and community. They can make something out of nothing...and that is something that we as a developed society have lost. And as the continent strives to become like its Western neighbors, I fear its identity will be swallowed whole...lost forever in a stream of 50 Cent T-shirts and R Kelly CD's--I can't tell you how troubling it is that the idols for African youth are 50 Cent and Nelly...carrying smoking guns no less. Alas, not much can be done about it I guess...the ball is rolling and there is no stopping it now. Although I feel priviliged to at least get a glimpse into this society before it becomes something entirely different. I believe in helping these people to better their own lives, but I come up against a wall. I don't want to be responsible for aiding in their modernization (and inherent loss of culture)...I don't want to help Westernize them no matter how badly they think they want to be. So, where is my role here? What is it that I want to do exactly? That is something that I am still searching for...

I know it is so easy to get caught up in life and never think about these things, and believe me...I am not solely criticizing the United States. Honestly, I have never felt more fortunate in my life to be from the US. We have opportunities there that cannot even be imagined here, and I am SOOOOO thankful. I just can't help but think that rather exporting our culture, we also need to be taking cues from some of our "less developed" neighbors. It is a lesson that I never could have learned without coming here...and something that I want to challenge you to think about...you don't have to be in Africa to do that (but feel free to visit anytime!)

Anyway, thanks for bearing with me there as I got on my soapbox...I promise to follow up with a funny post soon. Again...THANK YOU to all who have sent packages and letters!!! I received 7 packages today...and I can't wait to open them. Thank you so much for all of your support. Things are heating up here...and I am getting ready to bunker down for the 2 hottest months of my life...then the glorious rains come. Stay cool...Although from what I hearabout weather in the States right now that isn't hard to do...Talk soon.

Je Devien Grosse!?!?

2007-02-02T03:52:00.000-08:00

Alright folks…I’m back. Two weeks in village and I decided to pop out to celebrate Groundhog’s Day with the other volunteers. Although, no matter what Punxatawney Phil says (Kerry...can you let me know...you live there!)…I don’t get more winter (not that I ever had one), and I only have the heat to look forward to. It is like someone switched the light on the sun…it is unbelievable. The air is still a little crisp, but in the sun I just absolutely roast. It is so sad…the honeymoon is over folks.

The last couple weeks have been surprisingly busy. Well, Africa busy anyways. My supervisor visited me at site and met my organization and toured my town. I did some activities with villagers to try and figure out what the hell they want me to do. I read a lot. Ran a lot. Slept a lot. Read some more. Cooked homemade bread (I am freakin’ Betty Crocker now!). It felt like a productive past couple of weeks. I have 4 more weeks at my site, and then it is off to the capital for some more training, and the fabulous FESPACO film festival. I knew there was a reason that I was placed in Burkina, and the fact that it hosts Africa’s largest film festival seems like fate to me.

Before I came to Burkina I had done SO much research on the country, on the volunteers here, and what the experience would be like. For those of you that know me…I am a research freak. I don’t even buy pair of pants without comparing prices and qualities first. Well, anyway, one of the things that I had been told numerous times was that I should be prepared to be called “Grosse” on more than one occasion. In Africa it is “en vogue” to be “grosse” (or as the French Dictionary translates it: big, large, stout, fat, thick, broad, heavy, or swollen). It is a sign of status…it means you can afford to eat well. Well, you know what…in the United States it is NOT polite to tell someone that they are “devenir grosse” (becoming fat). Anyway, one morning after my run I went into town to buy some bread (maybe that is my first problem…carbs). The lady that makes my salad every night for dinner is there in the morning selling rice and beans for breakfast. Anyway, as I approach she says the dreaded words that I knew would be coming, but that up to this point I hadn’t heard. “OOOOHHHHH, Stephanie. Vous devenez grosse! C’est bonne!” Well, in hearing that I about fell over, and probably developed at least two eating disorders. I spent the next 20 minutes telling her that it isn’t polite to tell people that, and spent the rest of the day thinking that I was fat and disgusting. I immediately upped my running/exercise regimen to an hour of running everyday, and I didn’t eat for the rest of the afternoon. Before I came to Burkina I had been told by so many people…”they are going to tell you that you have gotten fat, they are going to try to fatten you up.” You know, I expected to hear it…but whether I expected it or not, it still hurt to hear it. In the States there is such a stigma around being skinny and in shape…it can’t be a coincidence that the term for fat here is “grosse” in French, and that “grosse” means…well…gross! It doesn’t help that most of you thought that in my coming here I was also getting free admission to the best fat camp in the world. I would like to disspell a myth…Africans may have malnutrition but they certainly are not starving…at least not in my part of Burkina Faso. My diet consists of carbs, some more carbs, oh yeah some carbs, rice, spaghetti, bread, and sauce. So, don’t be surprised when I step off the plane for my visit in September and you don’t recognize me. Oh god, I probably have about 3 mental disorders related to my weight now.

I have been running every morning, and besides the fact that it is to stave off any more “grosse” comments, I actually enjoy it. In the States I could always find a reason NOT to go running. “I have to go to work in two hours…I can’t possibly run,” “I don’t want to wash my hair,” “My favorite TV show is on,” “It’s cold outside/It’s hot outside,” “I don’t have any clean clothes.” But here, if I don’t go running in the morning there is NO excuse. Truly, one of the main reasons I go is because it takes up at least 3 hours of my morning. I go running for an hour, I get back and do crunches/dips/etc., heat water for my bath, heat water for breakfast, eat, and bathe. By that time it is usually 10:30. It’s almost lunch time. The villagers have slowly warmed to the idea of my running for, god forbid, exercise. At this point they know my route and wait for me to pass so that they can yell “Madame” or “Toubabou”…or greet me in Dioula of Moore. I have my own little cheering squad. On my path there are also tons of different kinds of animals. At first when they saw me running towards them I cause a mini-stampede as they rushed to get away, but now they just sit there watching me and probably thinking, “what is that crazy white girl doing?” One thing that does scare me a bit though are the enormous cows that line the paths. Most people here have cows…gigantic ones with enormous horns (think running of the bulls, Pamplona). Normally it is just a few, but lately they have been herding them across my path to the greenery near the river. So, the other day I was running and I was at this narrow portion of the path where there is a fence on one side and trees on the other…no escape. I slow to a walk, because I have no desire to start a stampede and get trampled. Well, as I pass by the cows evidently one of them didn’t like what I was wearing or the way I looked at him, but he turned to the cow next to him and speared him, and in turn that cow turned towards me and was headed straight towards me with its huge horns. I had always thought that if it happened (kind of like with the Hippos…if it is chasing me I have resolved to climb a tree) that I would jump out of the way or something…but no, I was scared to death. I just stood there with my face scrunched up in horror waiting for it to spear me. Luckily, the little girl leading the cows started beating them with a stick and they turned away from me. I don’t even think I realized how dangerous the situation was until later, or how close I came to being speared. Oh well, I chalk it up to life experience…and I will never get that close to those freakin’ animals again unless I am eating a fat juicy steak.

Okay, now I know that I have been seriously lacking in chicken stories lately, and for that I apologize. When I arrived back home from my last trip away I discovered that the hen in my courtyard had hatched some eggs. There were about 7 little chicks running around. I LOVE baby animals...it doesn't even matter what they are...I love them. Well, one day my organization is having their weekly meeting and I see that one of the baby chicks has fallen in the water bowl. Me being the animal lover that I am can not bear to see this poor little thing drown...everyone else was just staring and laughing--survival of the fittest and this one just didn't cut it. So, I go over there to fish the poor little guy out of the bowl. Everyone is staring at me and I have no idea why...but whatever, I am stared at all day long so how is this different. As I reach in to pull out the little chick the mother hen sees me, and rather than thank me from saving her chick from certain death, she attacks me!! She comes flying at me, wings out, skawking and pecking. I turn around and run and the damn thing follows me!!! WHAT?!?! All I was trying to do is help you stupid little soon to be dinner entreé! Anyway, while the chicken chased me and everyonelaughed as I dart around the courtyard someone snuck in and plucked the chicken out of the bowl. So, in the end I did aid in the saving of this poor chick's life...but I hadn't intended to be bait. Chickens are vicious little creatures...don't let "Chicken Run" fool you. They are mean! They attack me if I come near them, they attack eachother. The other day some of the chickens died in my courtyard...I know what you're thinking...BIRD FLU! But, it zqs some other crazy weird disease...anyway, when one of them got sick the other chickens ganged up on him and started attacking him. It was so crazy. I always pictured chickens as cute and docile creatures...but they are really blood-thirsty little varmints. I am learning so much here! I live in a little National Geographic documentary.

As the hot season approaches so do the roaches, scorpions, lizards, and crickets. What do they want, you might ask? Well, with the blaring sun all they want is to live inside my house. I am now learning all too well the worth of having a cat. Gateau is a vicious hunter. Every night I have had either a roach or a lizard in my house and every time he has caught and killed them. It is entertaining to watch...he throws his prey in theair and catches it. He flings it around for a bit..lets it go and then chases it some more. It is hilarious. There have been times where I have seen a roach and physically brought Gateau inside to show him...then he does his thing. He is my precious, adorable, cuddly, and efficient killing machine...exactly how I trained him. He had a lizard out in the courtyard and I felt bad, so I tried to take it away from him...OHHHH NO! He about clawed my eyes out to kill that thing...the little lizard got over the wall but Gateau leaped off the 10 foot wall; caught the lizard again, and brought it back in to my courtyard to play with some more. I feel bad for the lizard, but GOOD KITTY!

Alright, well I don't have much more time left today...I have a more serious post that I would like to add and I will get to that tomorrow. It can't all be laughs...there are some serious lessons to be learned by living here. Alright, well until tomorrow. A demain!

Rat de Brousse...A Burkina Delicacy...

2007-01-21T02:36:00.000-08:00

WOW!! Back so soon! I know, I know…I just couldn’t stay away from you for that long. Actually, I came into town because one of the other volunteers in my region is “ET-ing,” something that isn’t all that rare in the Peace Corps (30% of all Peace Corps volunteers do it). What is it? Well, it is called “Early Termination” and that is when someone decides to go home…early. So, she was with my group that just arrived here, and she decided that it wasn’t for her, and she is heading back to the states on Wednesday. I am a little bit jealous thinking of her eating sushi dinners and showering a real bathroom, but I am not quite ready to pack my bags yet and head back. Honestly, I have no idea if I will make it here the whole two years, I wouldn’t even begin to try and guess, and I am just taking everything one day at a time. I know that I am pretty happy with being here, even if I miss my family and friends terribly, and when I am ready to go—whether that be at the end of two years or next month—then I will know it and I will have no regrets. Sorry to be all serious on you, but all this heading home stuff has really got me thinking about it…and I thought I would share with you. Okay…enough of that.

So, this week flew by so fast thanks to a little visit from my friend Nanette. That’s right…she felt so guilty for crushing me over New Year’s that she decided to visit Banzon. So, we headed back on transport together last Sunday when I was in town. The transport alone was memorable enough. I have begun to realize on Sunday’s that if the drivers of the large buses don’t feel like driving the route between Banzon and Bobo, well then they just don’t. So, as we stood waiting for a bus to pull up we realized that it was never coming. Our only option was this PETITE little Jed-Clampett truck with a little hood over the bed, and a rack on top. It looked like a toy wind-up car…but oh no…it was our ride home.

Here is a picture courtesy of Nanette:

Luckily, being foreign has some perks so we got to ride up in the cab with the driver and about 6 bottles of water that we had to continually pour on the engine every 30 minutes or so. Honestly, I feel like I could have jogged back to Banzon quicker. This poor little vehicle loaded down with about 15 people in the back and the three of us in the front looked like it wouldn’t even make it 5 feet, and a couple of times people had to get out and give it a helping hand. But, after much pushing and engine-inspecting by multiple people we were off. Aside from an odd naked lady accident, the trip went just fine. Naked lady incident you ask? Would you like to hear more? Every village has a few of what they call “foo’s.” It is the African name for anyone that is a bit crazy. Generally they are homeless, although in Africa there isn’t really homelessness because anyone would open their house for these people to stay in and offer them food to eat. But, during the day they wander around and ask for money, yell, rant (one even handed me a razor and asked that I cut my hair….wierd!), etc. As soon as our ramshackle vehicle pulled up to this down, and I saw the woman in reference, I knew exactly where we were. An old women with a TEENY loin cloth on and nothing else was sleeping on the side of the road. I looked at Nanette and instantly knew where we were and who she was, and when Nanette caught a glimpse of her she about fell out of the car. The woman had gotten up—when foreigners are around there is money to be begged for—and was approaching the car. She is probably in her 70s and her boobs were hanging down below her belly-button, and I know that I shouldn’t have looked but it’s kind of like a traffic accident. You know you shouldn’t look, but you can’t help yourself. She came over to the car and begged us for money, but all I had was the money for transport and a bag of bread…so I gave her some bread. Poor Nanette was sitting in the chair red-faced, and just couldn’t believe what was happening. Oh the joys of traveling to my village. Come on people…who wants to come next? I know you want to see the crazy naked lady, the chickens, and everything else.

Anyway, we arrived in my village just fine, and if one foreigner living there didn’t cause enough attention, well two did it. The village is just about used to seeing me around, and it is becoming less and less of a novelty, but with Nanette there once again the large staring crowds and trail of children commenced again. It was entirely worth it though, because I got the utter joy of speaking English around people when they couldn’t understand…finally they know how it feels when they talk about me in Moore/Joula and I have no idea what they are saying. We had a really great time…we went running, biked through the rice fields/mango groves, baked a chocolate cake, drank a lot of beer with the Majore (the head nurse/doctor at the government health clinic), ate Bush Rat—Rat de Brousse (it sounds so much better in French) and the time flew by. Did you do a double take there? Yes, Nanette and I ate Bush Rat which is basically a rodent that lives in the woods, about the size of a beaver maybe or a really large squirrel. It is a delicacy here, and aside from having to see the little claws still attached, it was really good. I know what you are thinking…GROSS…but don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.

After she left things got back to normal. I read, and ran, and read some more, did some Sudoku...and I am getting paid for this. Granted its $240/month, but here that makes me rich. Thank you tax-paying Americans! One very interesting development in my village has been the emergence of camels. That's right, camels...animals of the desert. Every year the Peuhl/Fulani desert people ride their camels to the South of Burkina and just ask for money along the way. Well, I didn't have my camera or money at the time, but when I get back to village I am paying some money and I am going to ride that freaking camel! They are SO big! It was really neat, and he only spit on me a few times...hehe! I can't wait to send pictures of that.

Now, I don't know what kind of weather you are experiencing back in the States, but right now I am experiencing probably the best that Burkina has to offer. It goes down to about 13 degrees Celsius (55 F) at night, but up to about 80's-90's during the day. It is absolutely perfect. Yet, I feel like I am in a perpetual "Sunday." You know what I mean...Saturday is great because you know you have Sunday to look forward to, but Sunday sucks because you know you have to go into work the next day...so you never really enjoy Sunday because you are thinking about Monday. I am about to make sense...I swear. All I hear is about how BLAZING hot it is going to be in April...like we are talking upwards of 47 degrees Celsius folks (117 F). WHAT?!?! So, while I enjoy this lovely weather that we are having now...this is not the norm...and all I do is dread the day when I wake up and it's blazing hot...I am just waiting for the floor to drop out. I am trying to enjoy the weather...but I am stuck in a perpetual Sunday dreading Monday...except my "Monday" is 6 months of BLAZING BURNING SCORCHING UNBEARABLE SOMEONE GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE heat from Hell. That's right, the devil is setting up shop next door and I will be living in Hell until next December when the "winter" comes. It can only make me stronger...right?

Anyway, I gotta run and catch my lovely transport back to village...fun times. I hope all of you are well, and you should start planning your trips to see me!!! Come on people...bush rat, naked old ladies, dead chickens, insane heat...it is a very attractive offer. See you all soon!

ATTENTION: NEW PHOTOS POSTED

2007-01-20T06:29:00.000-08:00

Hello all...I popped into town to pick up some packages and for a meeting, but I wanted to let you know to check out my rockin' new photos...ALL 500 of them...THANKS DAVE! I hope you enjoy, and I will post something more tomorrow.

The link to my photos is under the links bar on the left hand side, just click on "Link to my online photo album"...ENJOY!!

Touching Poop is fun...No, really!

2007-01-13T04:23:00.000-08:00

Hello All!!! I bet that title got your attention! Wow...it feels like eternity since I last popped on the internet. I have spent close to three weeks in village, and I have to say that I am VERY happy to be back around a few English-speaking people again. Look, this isn't to say that I don't like being in village or the people there...but, I haven't had a grown up and real conversation with anyone for almost three weeks and it gets to you. In general, especially with my limited French skills, conversations consist of turning down marriage offers--I am already married thank you very much, detailing why I CAN'T get someone to the United States, and well...actually that's it. Three weeks of that would drive just about any sane person stir crazy. I even talked to myself once, and after that I knew it was time to take a trip into the city. I spent Tabaski (a Muslim Holiday--otherwise known as the Fete de Mouton or Party of Sheep) and New Years in my village, which was quite interesting...

My friend, and closest neighbor, Nanette was supposed to come and visit for the weekend of New Years. I had left to go back to village on the 26th feeling pretty good that at least I wouldn't have to spend New Year's alone with the villagers. I was like a giddy little school girl waiting for her crush to pick her up for their first date. I cleaned my entire house, organized everything, hung pictures...my house looked perfect. I even bought a chicken--which was hanging out pooping in my courtyard--to kill for dinner. I was psyched that someone was coming to see me! Then, I get a text message from her saying that she had been forced to switch buses, and that the one that she was put on was NUTS! Either, she could sit on a man's lap for the 3 hour journey to my village or she would have to get off...and well if you know Nanette you know that she doesn't put up with shit like that, and she opted to get off. Now, I can write about this because its a couple weeks later and the "sting" of rejection has worn off, but to say the least I was VERY dissappointed. I had psyched myself up to have someone there, and when she cancelled at the last minute I felt like I had been stood up--a tear might have even been shed folks, I'll admit it. But, you try living in loneliness in an African village and you would have cried too! To ease the pain, I decided to bake a little...nothing wrong with a little comfor with food. I created a dutch oven with a giant metal pot and baked 2 types of cookies. Although I handed some out to the kids I ended up eating most of them...I was still moping at this point and ice cream wasn't an option. Surprisingly, it did the trick and I felt quite a bit better after that.

The next day was the Fete de Muton and everyone seemed to be gearing up for that. Earlier that week I had been required to get an outfit made for the celebration--each family has a cloth pattern that they wear for holidays, they call it the uniform. My homologue had brought home a goat the week before and had told me it was for the holiday, so I assumed that we were going to eat it, but that didn't stop me from befriending it. He was actually really cute. I named him Charlie, and occasionally I snuck little treats to him. I am such a sucker for animals! I live in a perpetual petting zoo! I am surrounded by lambs, sheep, donkeys (the baby one's are SO cute), chickens--of course!, and goats. Why I feel the need to pet them I don't know, because it causes quite a stir in my village. The only time they approach an animal to touch is to hit it or slaughter it, so the animals think I am nuts too. Anyway, back to my goat story. So, I leave to go get some flour to bake more cookies and 'Ol Charlie is just lounging in the courtyard. Well, when I come back from the boutique Charlie is there, but he is in about 20 different pieces. The youngest son of my counterpart is playing with the head, while the eldest is cleaning out the intestines and other internal organ goodies, which he tells me are his favorite--it's graphic I know, but take note how at this point it doesn't even phase me. Less than 2 hours later my counterpart presents me with a 10 pound bag of Charlie...well, Charlie's hind leg anyway. Now Charlie, you know I loved you...but DAMN did you taste good in my tomato sauce. I fed myself for 2 days on that meat (both the cat and I), and gave some away. It was amazing.

The rest of the day I spent being paraded around village in my outfit (which actually looked kind of cute this time since I got to design it), and having people talk about me while I sat there. I hear "Toubabou" and "Nasara"--Joula and Moore for "Foreigner"--and I get gawked at by everyone, but no one ever talks directly at me. You know that feeling when you go in a room and you KNOW that everyone just stopped talking about you? Well here they have no problem continuing to talk about you right to you face...except not in a language that I understand. I often wish that I had subtitles displayed for me...I wonder what they say? "God that white girl is pale," "Man, she just sits around all day and reads while I pound corn and haul water...white people are lazy"...who knows, and thing is I probably never will. Sometimes I get the urge to speak English, but then I would just be talking to myself, and that doesn't sound like fun--trust me, I've tried, and it isn't fun. It's a one-sided conversation.

The next day was New Year's Eve, and I wasn't sure how the village celebrated that holiday. Tabaski wasn't exactly a celebration. I was in bed by 8:30, my regular time. My counterparts son, who is 17 years old, was visiting and he kept telling me that we were going dancing, but somehow I wasn't so sure. I spent the day doing the normal things...eating, sleeping, reading, riding my bike a little--very taxing. Then 8:00 rolled around and no one showed up to go dancing. I was starting to feel sorry for myself again, and cursing Nanette for not showing up. So, I curled up with my portable DVD player (come on guys...you don't think I would leave home without that...I gotta have the amenities), and with a 4 hour battery life I was able to entertain myself with "Patch Adams" and "A Few Good Men." I was asleep right around midnight, and I don't think I even noticed when the clock struck midnight. Now, I don't know how you spent your New Year's Eve, but all I can say to you is "TOP THAT!!!" Hehehehe!

The next day I was awoken by my cell phone ringing, and realized that I was late for the infamous "race" that everyone had been talking about. I wasn't exactly sure what was going on, as is generally the case since with my French I only get an "idea" of what they are trying to say. But, evidently, every New Year's Day they hold a bike race. Now when I envisioned this bike race I pictured a couple of guys on their bikes riding in circles, but OH was I wrong. This is a community event! Everybody had shown up for this, and riders had come from all over the region to participate. It was a 2K course that they repeated 10 times for a total of 20K. They had the entire course marked, ropes set up...it was really great. All the competitors lined up, and this was nothing like a race you would see in the United States. The bikes are from the 1970's, and by the end of the race half the competition had been disqualified because their bike had just fallen apart. Some had shoes on, other had flip flops...it was a menagerie of different people. As they flew around the course it made me think of the Tour de France...well this was nothing like that. Although they did call it the Tour de Banzon. In the end it came down to a rider from Banzon and a rider from Orodara (a neighboring city). As they were coming down the homestretch they let me at the finish line to take pictures. All of a sudden the entire crowd rushed out onto the finish line (and the race wasn't even over yet!). The riders, at full speed, were heading towards the finish line, and a mob of people--including me because the crowd swept me away--were directly in their path. Thebikes came careening through the finish line, and Banzon had won. Although, I don't know how they could tell that since the riders never even made it to the finish line because they crashed into people. All this time I am just holding my camera over my head clicking pictures...and I was a little bit scared because the crowd was pretty rowdy. Then all of a sudden someone started to run, and then it turned into a stampede. Now I know how stampedes start and how dangerous they can be. It was unbelievable. People were getting stepped on, it was exactly like what I thought it would be. Luckily, someone pulled me out of the mess before I tripped over a bike and got trampled. But, for a split-second I was genuinely scared that I was going to get trampled on. It was like a mosh-pit from hell. As far as I know no one got hurt, and the village celebrated their victory for the rest of the day by carrying the winner and his bike around the entire village. It was quite a sight.

It was an interesting end/beginning of 2006/2007, and one that I will never forget. Otherwise, life in village has been pretty boring and laid back. I decided to plant a garden in my courtyard, and that was quite an endeavor...and also explains my very entertaining and eye-catching title to this blog, "Touching Poop is Fun!" With all the time on my hands I pretty much just sit around an plan what I am going to eat next, and since the diet here consists of Toh, Toh, Toh, rice, and pasta...it doesn't exactly help my figure. So, I thought I would plant a garden with some fun veggies that would prove to be a bit more healthy. It also proved to be quite a workout as well. First I had to lug bucket-load after bucket-load of rocks from outside my courtyard to the inside to make the lining of the garden. Then using a half-broken axe I had to dig up the dirt, which in Burkina is more like clay and rock. After that my counterpart approaches me and says, "It's looking good, but now you need to find the 'caca de bouef.'" Caca de what?!? So he hands me a box, and tells his son to go with me, and we go on a poop expedition. There are cows everywhere in my village, so there is no shortage of pooh around, but I never had any intention of actually touching it with my hands...I mean, who touches poop with their barehands? The people here, that's who. So I stand there while he picks up random cow patties and crumbles them in his hand. They have to be exactly the right texture/moisture level he tells me. Oh, well in that case...YUCK! Anyway, so I stand by and watch while he fills the box with crumbled cow pooh. Occasionally he tries to get me involved, but I have standards people! And, although they have been lowered quite a bit by living (I have no problem peeing in a hole, or eating something that had a bug in it), they have NOT been lowered that far...yet. So we go back and sprinkle--well I say we, but what I really mean is he...I just watched--the cow poop in my garden and plant my seeds. Anyday now, or next year, who knows how long it takes, I will have a gorgeous garden of watermelon, cucumber, lettuce, tomatoes, sweet potatoes, and one banana tree. I can't wait. The next day I was inspecting my flowers and garden (I planted flower seeds by my house), and I was picking the rocks off of them and seeing if they had sprouted. Well, in the process my hand grazed across some cow poop. At first I recoiled in horror, but then I picked it up--barehanded--and just threw it aside. That's right...I touched poop, and you know what...it isn't that bad! As I grazed some more my hand ran across some other random pooh, and again, I didn't recoil in horror. I just picked it up and brushed it aside. No big deal...and for a second I was proud of myself. Now, as I tend my garden and flowers I just fling poop around like it were a piece of paper or a rock. What is happening to me?!?! Will I be suitable for life in the United States after this? You probably will be wary the next time you shake my hand, huh?

Everything else is going along really well. I have been meeting with a lot of people from the village, and I think slowly I am finding exactly what it is that I want to do here...albeit VERY slowly. At times I feel so lost, and that I am entirely useless...but then I have those "Eureka!" moments where I break through or have a connection with someone, and it reaffirms why I'm here. "The toughest job you'll ever love"...I don't know if I love it quite yet, but it is tough...and I am having a good time figuring out if I love it or not. Next week I am doing some activities with some students at the middle school (called "College" here), and I hope through that I can learn a bit more about what they want as a community. People are always emailing me and asking me, "so, do you like it there?" Honestly, it would depend on what day, hour, minute, and second that you asked me...because it constantly changes. The people here survive just fine...they have been enduring their hardship and they do it with a smile on their face, so it makes it difficult to see what kind of things I can offer. I am sure it will all materialize, but I just want to thank all of you for all of your support, calls, letters, and packages. It helps immensely and I don't think I would have made it this far without them. I have so much more I could write about, and I am sorry to leave you without a chicken story (I have one...but I am kind of tired now). So, for next time...I will have a great chicken story ready, and a fabulous roach story. And, for those of you fitnessed-minded people out there, stay tuned for "Stephanie's African Workout." Oh yes, on DVD and out in paperback next year...I will whip your butt in to shape with well-water pulls, water bucket bicep curls, rock hauling squats, and more. All in the next edition of my blog...so STAY TUNED!

Happy Holidays from across the Globe!

2006-12-25T06:20:00.000-08:00

Well, Merry Christmas! Happy Chanukah! Merry Kwaanza! Happy Tabaski! And, finally, Happy New Year!! The holiday season is upon us, and I have to say that it feels like it snuck out of nowhere. It feels anything but like a holiday. It isn’t that people here don’t celebrate Christmas, or other holidays…but without family it just isn’t the same. So, I have decided that I am putting Christmas on hold…a rain check if you will…that’s right ladies in gentleman. When I come visit next September we are going to have to celebrate Christmas 2006 and New Years. So, don’t throw away your tree quite yet, and keep those goofy 2007 glasses and crowns that I know you are going to wear on New Years in your drunken/partying stupor…if it goes poorly the first time, don’t worry, because when I return to the states for a visit in 9 months you will get to do it all over again. Sound like fun?!?! I think so…

It hasn’t actually been that long since I last posted. Thanks to the holidays I was able to come up with a good excuse to come back into Bobo, and bask in the glow of lights and the sound of television. I know many of you enjoyed my transport story from the last time, and I didn’t want to bore you with another one, but it was just so interesting I can’t help myself. With the onslaught of all the Christian/Muslim holidays, most people have decided to take a break…including all of bus drivers in my village. Which left me with no options to getting into the city from my village…well, no options that my mother would approve of anyway. So did I walk the 65K (roughly 35 miles) into Bobo, ride my bike, crawl? No sir, I did not! I stood out on the side of the road, stuck my thumb out, and hitched a ride on a Brakina Beer truck that was picking up empty bottle along the way to drop off in the capital. How very convenient for me!! I got to sit up front in the VERY small cab of the truck with 3 other friendly Burkinabe men, while we bumpily made our way into town. To be honest, it was the fastest and smoothest ride I have experienced thus far…and the best part was that it was free. I must have charmed their pants off. AND, what transport story would be complete without a chicken story??? I know Erica’s dad, Bubba Baker, likes them!! Hehehe! Halfway on our journey we stopped and picked up a woman holding 4 chickens and a pintard (a bird that resembles/tastes like a chicken). Luckily for me, but unfortunately for your entertainment, my travel this time included no bites or run away birds…

Life in village is slowly settling into my bones, and I am getting my house more and more set up everyday. I have to say, I am pretty pleased with the way it is turning out. My biggest thing was that I didn’t want it to look like a “hut”…it had to look as close to a “home” as possible. I needed to feel as settled as possible in it, and I think I have accomplished that…I will try and post a few pictures of it now, but all my pictures are currently in the mail on their way to the United States where my lovely brother will post all the pictures that I have taken thus far.

Since I last spoke to you not much has been going on. I started running in the mornings, and I am really glad that I finally got on this wagon. First, all I eat are carbs, carbs, and more carbs…and although being “gross” (or “fat” in French) is attractive to people here, I have no intention of coming back looking like a beached whale or a in my community, a “hippo.” Not only that, but I find that it relieves a lot of stress that builds up throughout the day. Stress you say? How could I be stressed, you’ve seen my daily activities schedule…it isn’t all the reading that does it. You would be very surprised just how stressful and draining it is to live in a village with no other French speakers, and to have to constantly be “on” when you walk out the door. Every time I want to go to the marchÈ I have to greet EVERY person that I pass on my bike, I have to smile, I have to turn down 4 marriage proposals, I have to laugh, and shake hands…and it gets tiring. All I want is a tomato or a cucumber, and I get mobbed everytime. Now I know what a celebrity feels like…and you know what…I don’t particularly like it. I know in time the attention will wane as they realize that I live amongst them, and they can see me everyday…but for the first few months I have heard it’s hard…and I am experiencing it now. I try to be as gracious and inviting as I possibly can…but come on folks…everyone has their limits…even selfless and helpful Peace Corps Volunteers…hahaha! I can see how people become hermits…I would prefer to sit and read or do a puzzle then go outside and fumble through my French/Joula to have a conversation with someone. It is a challenge. I never realized how therapeutic running was until I started and now I think I am addicted. I step out of my house every day at 7 a.m. to go on my jog (and at this time of the season I can see my breath in the air…it is about 55-60 degrees in the mornings), and there dutifully waiting for me is my homologue’s son, Ali. He trails behind me in his flip-flops with a glowing grin on his face. I went to all the fuss (and money) picking out the perfect running shoes for my gait and my feet, the perfect running shorts and dry-fit top…and there he is trailing behind me in his jeans and t-shirt with his foam flip-flops…and I’ll be damned if he doesn’t keep up with me for most of the way, and he NEVER stops to walk. I am really impressed! It is the one time in the day where my mind clears and I can just take in the scenery…I run past the hippo lake, and so far I have been lucky enough not to run into one (they may look like lovely creatures from afar, but from what I hear they are pretty vicious). I figure if I ever run into one then it’s just motivation to move faster right? Everyone needs some motivation every now and then. I hope this is a habit I can continue…for my sanity, my health, and my growing derriere!

I am trying to diversify my diet a bit, and I have started to venture out to the various meat sellers in my village. I will admit it, I am a carnivore, and I love it. Chicken is my favorite, but with all of the killing and feather-plucking it seems like too much work. So, I have moved on to easier “viande”…the meat of “mutton” (sheep) and “bouef” (beef). Men set up little grills all around town, hang a few sheep legs from a hook, and all you have to do is pay them some money and they will give you some hunks of already dead meat…no killing involved thank you very much. I like this much better. So, the other day I was dead set on having some beef for dinner. I stopped by the meat sellers shack and sitting there on disply was the ENTIRE head of a sheep! I know this is gross, so if you don’t like this kind of stuff stop reading here (Morgan, I know you love this crap and can’t wait to continue reading…hehehe). Blood was still seeping out of the thing and I immediately turned around…I was seriously re-thinking my desire for meat at this point. But, my stomach won over and said…”you want meat…this is where meat comes from…deal with it!” So, I pleasantly asked them to remove the rotting “tete” (head) from the table…which they did promptly. I could continue. Sitting on the table was a gigantic hunk of meat that was entirely covered in flies…and once again I started to rethink my decision to buy meat…but I forged ahead, Hey, a girls gotta eat! I asked them for a “filet” of beef and he pointed at the rotting cut of meat on the table. I quickly told him that “homey don’t play that”…and I pointed to the gigantic beef leg hanging from a hook under the hangar. This at least had less flies on it, and it looked like a “leg”…I don’t know why that helped me, but whatever. So, with the quick slash of his machete I had a bug chunk of beef leg handed to me in a paper bag…TASTY! I got home and realized that the skin was still attached so worked with my knife to get that off. They tell us that the meat should be red and elastic in texture…and this was definitely neither of those, but the hunger in my stomach overrode my fears of e.coli or bacteria poisoning. I then proceeded to attempt to tenderize the meat, because if you don’t, then it will be as hard as a brick. Without a mallet or a hammer I had to turn to my broomstick handle. Now, as a white person I am already an oddity, but as I stood outside beating a black bag with a broomstick handle, I became the CRAZY ASS white girl. About 4 people lined up to watch me. It wasn’t until I revealed to them what was in the black bag that they finally all laughed, said “toubabou feu” (white girl crazy) and walked away. Oh well…I had soft and chewy meat that night…so whatever. After 30 minutes of cooking (because of my fear or worms and disease) my meat, that started out about the size of a dinner plate, was about the size of my palm…it was still good. Man did I feel accomplished at the end of that meal!

My kitten, Gateau (here is a cute picture of him enjoying some lounge time on my hangar), is doing very well. He is definitely my companion and my family here, and I don’t know what I would do without him. I do fear, however, that he has narcolepsy. Now, I know you think I am crazy, and maybe it is the heat of the day…but I swear…that cat runs around my house like a wild banshee and literally two seconds later he is passed out asleep on the floor. I can’t understand it. Is it the fish I am feeding him? Is there some disease? It’s pretty funny to see him one minute playing in my backpack, and the next minute his head is half hung out, mouth open, sleeping like a baby. It provides me with entertainment I guess, and a reprieve from him wanting to get into everything.

Well, anyway, I am probably boring you to death with the mundane details of my village life…the cat fell asleep reading this…so that can’t be a good sign (or it is just proof of his narcolepsy…I don’t know of which). I hope that everyone is enjoying the holiday season…because for the most part I am trying to push it from my mind. I would rather ignore it than think about what I am missing. I hope that everyone enjoys the holidays, and think of me as you dig into your turkey, roast beef, leg of lamb, wonderful side dishes…because my mouth is watering already.

I am heading out to my village tomorrow, and I actually don’t know the next time I will be back in town. I am going to try to stay out there for 2-3 weeks or longer without escaping to the city. I feel I need to have a constant presence in village so that people get used to seeing me, and realize that I DO actually live there. It makes a difference on how I am perceived…trust me. My phone always works so feel free to give me a call or pop a letter in the mail…I will respond to EVERY letter, and that is a promise. Take care. A plus. A la procieme.

Toh, Toh, and more Toh....oh yeah and fish...

2006-12-16T06:22:00.000-08:00

HELLO!! Wow, it seems like a long time since I last wrote you, and it’s only been a week and a half. It is interesting how time moves here…so SLOW, yet so fast at the same time. I am officially “en brousse” in my village, and I can’t possibly think where to begin to describe what has been going on here.

I had a lot of time to think about it on my 2 ½ hour “bush taxi” ride into the BIG city of Bobo-Dioulasso, my new home base. And, I am still not sure how I sum up 10 very interesting days. Firstly, I must describe to you my voyage to get here…that in and of itself was an experience. I don’t know if you have heard about transport in Africa, although I know you can use your imagination. What classifies as a vehicle and what they put on it are very loosely defined. Honestly, it makes my Chinatown to Chinatown bus to Boston look like a limo ride…yeah, I will never complain again about public transport back in the United States. So, the car goes by my house at 7:30 in the morning, which is very convenient. So I sit outside waiting for it to pull up…and in the distance it appears. It looks like an oversized VW Bus, except with a lot more holes…and I certainly have never seen a VW bus with goats tied to the roof and people riding on the top. I literally started laughing out loud when I saw this “vehicle” approach. There were people hanging out of the windows, goats strapped to the roof standing up, people strapped to the roof, rice, bikes, luggage, chickens, you name it and it was on there. We were a land-faring Noah’s Ark…but not as sea worthy. I hop on, and what do you know…they had saved me the one seat that was left—it’s good to be a foreigner sometimes…hehehe. So, I sit down and prepare for my bumpy 60 km journey into Bobo. I had taken the road to get here in a cush Landcruiser Peace Corps vehicle, and it had been hard then…I had no idea how this car was going to make it. I pop on my headphones look out the window and eventually semi-doze off. That is until the attack of the chickens. Now look, I know what you’re thinking, another chicken story?!?! I don’t know how I attract them, I don’t know what I have done to deserve it…but as long as I don’t have bird flu I am totally fine with that. So, I am sitting there listening to a little Toto, “Rains Down in Africa” (very appropriate right?) when I feel a little nip on my foot. I look down and I am so shocked at what I see that I literally jump onto my seat. The poor elderly woman next to me thinks that I am absolutely nuts. It wasn’t the chickens that scared me…but the surprise that (a) I was being bitten by a chicken…do they even have teeth? And (b) what the hell are chickens doing by my feet?!?! That little bugger bit me about 4 times the entire ride. What the hell! The funny thing about all of it is, by the time we got to Bobo all I could think about was…”mmm…I bet he would be really good for dinner.” Oh goodness, that is what Toh and fish sauce everyday will do to you. Alas, I arrived safely…we all did. We didn’t break down, the car didn’t flip, and I didn’t get to eat the chickens for lunch…an interesting ride that I am sure to experience many more a time. I am now in Bobo enjoying electricity, decent food—SCHWARMA!!, and the company of my fellow volunteers…I never thought I would be so happy to see English-speaking people.

So, I arrived in village on Wednesday a week and a half ago, I would equate the whole affectation/move-in experience to college—except this time I didn’t cry (yeah, ask me about that later). You drive along this horrendous dirt road until you come up my village. It is a pretty large village that appears out of nowhere…one minute nothing and then BOOM…my village. So I pull in with furniture strapped to the roof, in a cushy Landcruiser brimming full of luggage, beds, stoves, etc. That doesn’t attract attention, right? Hah, I think the entire town came out to see what was in this car…I think they were disappointed it wasn’t gifts for them…oh well, I think I am a pretty good gift. So, the Peace Corps driver helps me unload my car, I get a tour of my house, we sit in awkward silence for a little bit—sometime that happens quite a lot—and then he hops in his little vehicle and is off to the big city. There I stand, surrounded by all my belongings, 20 Burkinabe people…all alone. Just like college, I sat down in the middle of my room and I said to myself, “what do I do now?” Luckily, I had my lovely kitten with me who could cuddle and make me forget that I just got dropped off at a house with people I don’t know, in a third world country, 2 ½ hours from a city, no electricity/running water/decent food/English speaking people, no family…I am surprised that I didn’t freak out, but I think really I have to hold it together, because if I don’t then nobody will…it is just me out there people!

I spent the first several days meeting important people, the mayor, the chef du village, the Majore (head nurse at the clinic), head of every agricultural organization. It was tiresome. I repeated the same introduction over and over again until I thought I would pass out. “Je suis Stephanie. Je suis un voluntaire avec le Corps de la Paix…” AAAAHHHH! The one thing that has kept me sane, besides my kitten, is the fact that the landscape is so beautiful. Truly, it reminds me of Africa out of history books. We have a river that flows through the village which is utterly amazing. There are mango groves, banana groves (I never want another banana again…), rice fields (my village is the rice capital of Burkina), corn fields…it really is beautiful. I spend a lot of my days just riding through them, or sitting and reading by the river.

After meeting all the necessary people I took it upon myself to do some small home improvements. I had a bookshelf and an armoire built at the carpenter’s, I had them cement my courtyard, I organized, I am going to paint. I have tried to keep myself busy…maybe I can keep myself distracted long enough before I realize what I have gotten myself into. For you readers at home though, how do I capture what my life is like? Well…one thing that might be helpful for you is a “Day in the Life”…that sounds like fun, right? Well, I am gonna write it anyway…here is a day in the work week of Stephanie…

Stephanie's Daily "Work" Schedule:

6:30 AM - Wake up and run to the bathroom (will my bowel movements ever be solid and controllable anymore?)

7:00 AM – Boil water for hot tea and instant grits (ooohhh, yummy)

7:15 AM – greet my counterpart before he leaves for the marche, get some hot water from his wife for my bucket bath (it is COLD here right now in the mornings…)

7:25 AM - Take my bucket bath…refreshing? No. Do I feel clean? No.

7:30 AM - Eat my breakfast--which consists of powdered milk and corn flakes, or instant grits...thanks Mom!--while simultaneously greeting people in Moore, Joula, and French. That’s right folks…three languages are spoken in my village, and everyone assumes that in the week that I have been there that I have become fluent in all three…WHAT?!?!

8:15 AM – Sweep the layers of dust that have caked up in my house

8:30 – 10:30 AM - Read whatever book of interest I have…anyone have any good suggestions?

10:30 AM – go outside and sit with 1 of the 2 wives of my counterpart while she talks to me in Joula, and I just nod my head like I understand. This is also the time when children and adults come over and laugh at me for a reason I still don’t know.

11:30 AM – Ride my bike to the marche where I sit at my counterparts boutique, talk about America—tell him no it isn’t possible to take a bus to America…at least I don’t think so, greet people as they ride by, walk through the market and buy some veggies for lunch. Realize that I am about to have an explosive diarrhea attack…run home and hopefully make it to the bathroom in time (it’s gross, but I promised I would be honest with you guys about the reality of my life here…so that’s the brutal truth…take it or leave it).

12:00 PM - Make lunch, eat, pretend to eat the Toh and fish that my counterpart’s wife makes for me, sweep the layers of dust that have accumulated out of my house, and take a midday nap.

3:00 PM – wake up from my lovely nap and go sit out front again with my counterpart’s wife while people laugh at me and talk about me (I have no idea what they are saying…but I hear “toubabou” (white person)…eat fried patates (like sweet potatoes)…get laughed at when I use my ketchup.

4:30 - Sweep the layers of dust that have once again accumulated in my house. Stand over the well in my courtyard and with rope and bucket and draw water from the well to fill my water container…this is another time where people like to stare and laugh as well.

5:00 PM – go to the marche to hang out at my counterpart’s boutique some more…walk around…talk to people…read. Run home with most likely another explosive bathroom attack…oh my poor poor bowels.

6:00 PM – it is dark at this time. Take my second bucket bath, brew some water for tea, make something (most likely Easy Mac or powdered mashed potatoes—which by the way have NEVER tasted so good—THANK YOU DAD and HONI!)

7:00 PM – eat dinner with my counterpart’s wife and his two kids (boys, 2 years old and 10 years old). Watch as they spill food everywhere which then attracts an entire colony of ants which I battle with for the next hour. Pretend to eat the Toh and fish sauce…

8:00 PM – Sweep the layers of dust that have accumulated in my house. Blow my nose and watch the Kleenex turn brown. Or, if I don’t have Kleenex, blow a snot rocket on the ground…yeah, who wants to waste precious toilet paper on their nose…not me, not when NO toilet paper is sold in my village. Lie in bed, read a book, listen to my satellite radio.

9:00 PM – ZZZZzzzz….and get up 1-2 times a night to run to the bathroom because whatever I ate has made my bowels saying, “HELL NO!”

That, with a little variation here and there, is what my days consist of right now. The Peace Corps tells us not to start any projects…just observe and get habituated into your community. So, that is my busy busy day…a little different than a work day in NYC huh? Aside from my occasional hippo hunting session (that’s right…there is a hippo lake literally 400 yards from my house). We tried to go see them, but once I realized that I was stuck in mud up to my knees, probably getting Schistomastiosis (an interesting disease that I will have to tell you about sometime), trying to find one of the most dangerous animals on the planet…I decided to turn around and go home. I will wait for another time to see them…when I am not stuck in mud and unable to move…a perfect target for a stampeding hippo.

All in all, I am very happy (I don’t know if I conveyed that in my daily activities schedule). The people in my village over all are very nice, my counterpart is nice, his wives (that’s right…plural) are nice, his kids are nice…I am just taking it all in. The organization I work for is very motivated, and I think there is a lot of good work to be done here. First, I have to acclimate to this new lifestyle…more shockingly different then I would have thought. My house is great; it is starting to look like a real home. I am going to plant flowers and a vegetable garden. HAHAHA, I sound like a 60 year-old retiree…and you know what, I will enjoy it while I can. I know what the working world is like…and I am in no hurry to return. This is like a vacation…that is if your idea of a vacation is torturing your body, living in a country where you don’t speak the language, not having electricity/running water, eating Toh every night, and being thousands of miles away from family/friends…so far that’s my idea of a pretty good vacation, and I get to live it everyday…are you ready to join me?

Well, it is back to the village and isolation I go. I get cell service so feel free to drop me a line…would love to hear from you. With the holidays coming up I will be coming to Bobo a couple of times…but after that it is village life with the occasional visit to the city. So, I hope to post another entry by Christmas.

Happy Holidays to everyone, and I am sad I am not there to share in the festivities. Mom, thank you more my sax-playing/dancing Santa Claus doll…they searched all my packages when I picked them up at the post and I was able to distract them with the dancing Santa Claus while I hid the DVD’s and electronics from their eyes (I don’t want to have to pay taxes for that). To see grown men in military uniform ooh and ahh over a dancing stuffed animal is a sight to see…truly.

Happy Chanukah…Merry Christmas…Happy Tabaski…or whatever holiday you are celebrating! Talk soon!

Gateau...a tasty cake? I think not...

2006-12-03T09:50:00.000-08:00

Wow, I can't believe how much has happened in just the few short days since I have written. I am writing this from the cush offices of the Peace Corps in the Burkina capital, Ouagadougou, as I wait until tomorrow for my dentist appointment. Honestly, it couldn't have worked out better for me. I have been staying in the Peace Corps transit house (a hostel for PC Burkina volunteers), eating tons of junk food--ice cream, pizza, cheeseburgers, chocolate shakes--and just hanging out with some of the other volunteers who are in the capital. I am living it up!!! Thank you rotten teeth...that is all I have to say!

I am now OFFICIALLY a Peace Corps Volunteer, and no longer a Peace Corps Stagiare/Trainee. It is such a strange feeling. One minute I was stepping off the plane into the hot Burkina air wondering what the hell I got myself into, and the next minute I am finished with training and I am heading out on my own. How did this happen?!?! It seems to have gone so fast, yet so slow! I am ready to move to my village and start my two years of service, but I can't help but be frightened to death of being alone, lonely, bored, confused, scared, misunderstood, stared at...and a multitude of other emotions. Truly, I have to take everything one day at a time...if I think too far into the future I stress myself out. So, one day at a time...one step at a time...or "baby steps..."

Luckily (and at the same time unforunately) I have my kitten Gateau (French for cake, Spanish for cat). Some volunteers think it is a poor choice for a name since people do eat cats here, and naming your cat a tasty treat doesn't help much...but I say bah humbug. That's right...I adopted a kitten. I couldn't help myself, and for those of you that know me, you know that I have a soft spot for things like that. He is SOOO cute! He is black and grey tiger-striped, and is just the most rambunctious needy little thing ever! He is so adorable, but traveling with him on transport while trying to drag my suitcase and bike, and then having him at the hostel with 10 other people makes it hard. Plus, he seems to like this brown couch on the screened-in porch, and likes to use it as a litter box...not exactly appreciated by the other lodgers in the hostel. I basically run around doing damage control. Hopefully, once I get to site he won't be so antsy. Truly though, I am glad to have him around. He likes to crawl up and sit on my shoulder like a parrot while I walk around doing errands, brushing my teeth, going to the bathroom!! That's right...I have to take him with me, because if I don't he screams bloddy murder outside my door. Oh god, someone help me...I didn't intend to adopt a child! It is endearing, for now anyway!

Before I sign off I want to leave you with a quick little story. I left Ouahigouya and my host family on Friday. I went over to my host family's house to have breakfast with them one last time before I left. So, as I came in to the house the grandmother approached me. This woman is missing most of her teeth, and doesn't speak French all that well (as far as I can tell) so mainly I NEVER understand what she is saying and I just nod my head and say "ya soma" (Moore for "it's good") or "Laafi" (Moore for "It goes well"). Anyway, she shook my hand and placed 200 F.CFA into my palm (equivalent of about .50 cents). I was so shocked, because I know she doesn't work, and I didn't understand why she was giving it to me. I told her thank you and walked into the house to ask my mom about this gift...why? What was the significance? For people that have so little, it makes me uncomfortable to accept monetary gifts...no matter how small. So, my mom told me that it is customary when a grandchild goes o a long trip that the grandmother gives that child a little money to buy bread and some water. Honestly, I almost cried. It seems so insignificant, but at that moment I truly felt accepted by them. They have helped me so much by showing me around, telling me when I make faux pauxs, helping me navigate the marche, buy things, etc. Never once have they been frustrated or dissapointed. They have simply been there...and I can't imagine an America family showing that same hospitality.

It sounds so cliche, but it seems to me that it is the people that have the least that give the most...something I am learning a lot about here. I don't know...just a little food for thought.

So, tomorrow is my appointment with the Burkinabe dentist. Hopefully, all is well and I will ship off to my site on Tuesday. Stay tuned!

Thanks for continuing to read. I don't think I will get to post for a while as I transition into living in the middle of nowhere, a good 35 miles away from internet/electricity/etc. Stay tuned though!

A Volunteer...Almost!

2006-11-30T00:05:00.000-08:00

Hello all--

I wanted to check in with you...especially before it got too crazy here. Today is the day!!! In less then 3 hours I will be swearing in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer. I am truly amazed by how fast the time has gone by so far, and I am still not sure how it happened, and I am certain that I am not ready--I feel ready, yet in my gut I am a ball of nerves. It seems like yesterday that I stepped off the plane wide-eyed like a little baby bird, and here I go getting kicked out of the nest...

I finally met my counterpart/"homologue," which is the person that I will be working with--and living with...my house is in his courtyard--for the next two years. Out first meeting was so angst-ridden that the night before I could barely sleep...but here is how it played out:

There was such an air of anticipation on the day that we were to meet our counterparts. We knew they had arrived and there were Burkinabé standing around, but we couldn't figure out whose person was whose. I felt like I was in an orphanage, or like I was Orphan Annie, walking around trying to find the person with the matching locket necklace. We all sat down in a big room, the Burkinabé on one side and us on the other. At this point they had name tags on and I spotted my guy from across the room. So far, so good, I thought to myself. He looked normal enough to me...he seemed harmless. So, finally they tell us to go find our counterpart and introduce ourselves. I walk over to him and in my mostly horrible French start telling him who I am, etc. He looks at me with this blank look on his face. I start worrying that I al not saying something right, and he continues to stare. After a good 5 minutes of me gesturing like a mime and trying to get my name across I realize the problem...HE DOESN'T SPEAK FRENCH!!! That's right folks...all that hard work to learn French and my counterpart doesn't speak it very well. On top of that...and I want you all to know that this is in NO WAY a hit against him, because he is a really nice intelligient guy, but he can't write either. It became quite a problem when he had to present me to the room and he couldn't remember my name, or anything else.

Now, I know most of you are thinking..."are you freaking out right now?" Honestly, my answer to that is no, because I am certain that with time, and some good drawing abilities we will be able to communicate. However, it did take the wind out of my sails a bit...oh well, as is the motto here, "ça va aller!"

Anyway, everything else about my post sounds pretty enticing. They built me a BRAND NEW house inside his courtyard, and from what I have heard he has one of the nicest houses that my boss has ever seen...and mine is being built in that style...so one can only hope right? I live right off the main dirt-road through town, and close to the marché for shopping. Really, overall I am quite content with my site. I am eager, anxious, nervous, excited, happy, sad, and everything in between about going to site...

It may be a bit before I get to update you--although I will try to do so after my dentist appointment on Monday...I am sure you are all dying to know what a Burkinabé dentist experience is like.

I hope to give you more details about my counterpart, etc. later when I have more time...so standyby! Enjoy the holidays as they approach, and think of me here in Burkina!! Miss you all, and thanks for all the support.

"Oregon Trail" anyone?

2006-11-25T01:06:00.000-08:00

Hello all--

Well, you will be happy to know that I was recommended for swear-in, i.e. they said I can become a volunteer...YEAH! Not that any of you had doubts I am sure. I did...I was a little worried about my language level, but luckily I achieved the level of Intermediate High, which is one step above what I needed. I attribute it to all that studying...hahahaha! Okay, so I didn't really study that hard, but still...I am doing pretty good.

So, I know you are asking yourself, why did Stephanie title her blog, "Oregon Trail, anyone?" First off, who didn't love that game? Come on...it was awesome!!! But, the real reason for mentioning it is that unfortunately for the past several days I have been sick. I know, feel bad for me... :-D. The nurses who gives us first aid training gave us this book called, "Where There is No Doctor," which we are supposed to reference when we aren't feeling well, and now I truly understand all the ailments that my pioneering Oregon Trail family was going through. With the symptoms I have it could be Typhoid Fever, Malaria, Dengue Fever, or just the flu...oh well, right? I picture myself as one of those little pioneer people as I travel through this experience. Should I rest now, so that I don't get sick? Should I go hunting so that I don't starve? Should I trade an Indian for some buffalo pelts...okay well that doesn't really apply, but stick with me here. It's a plethora of various diseases that I get to choose from, and unfortunately I don't have computer telling me what I have, nor does resting for a week help or apply here. Is anyone getting what I am saying? My brain has been frying at a temperature of 101-103 F for about 4 days now, so honestly I don't know if this will make sense. Oh well, ça va aller, right?

Anyway, just thought I would share my general health condition with all of you...I know you are intersted! Everything else is going really great...I designed a dress for the swear-in ceremony, and I have to say that for someone with little to no fashion sense, I would make the judges of "Project Runway" proud. I designed a baby doll sundress with an empire waist and a little belt thing, it is very cute. Hopefully I will have some pictures posted soon so you can see my clothing design skills first hand.

Anyway, stay healthy, and enjoythe cold weather. Oh, and will someone go and eat a Dairy Queen Blizzard and then email me in detail about the taste...gosh I miss that. Hehehe! Talk soon...

GRITS Introduces Grits to Burkina Faso...

2006-11-21T04:48:00.000-08:00

Hahaha, okay, so you know it had to happen sometime! That's right, thanks to the fabulous generosity of Mike's brother, Jonny, I was able to enlighten my family on the beauty of this fabulous Southern Cuisine!! They really liked it, or at least they lied and said they did...it is hard to tell which is true here.

First I wowed them with my skills in the kitchen in regards to my boxed macaroni and cheese. Now, I whip out a teeny brown baggy, and with simply adding boiled water and covering for a minute I can make breakfast. Oh the magic of grits. Now, I know what you are thinking. From the fabulous Academy-Award winning movie, "My Cousin Vinny" - thanks to Marisa Tomei's Best Supporting Actress Award - "No self-respecting southerner uses instant grits!" Well, you know what I say to that...TOO BAD, that's what he sent me and I enjoyed them anyway...southern heritage be damned!!

I think my next step is trying to make grits with the dried corn kernels here. Is that possible? Does anyone know?

I tried to tell my Dad, "Oh, j'aime le grits! C'est le gout de ma maison!" - "Oh, I love grits! It is a taste of my home!" - I don't know if that really makes sense in French or not...but it made him laugh.

So, you ask yourself, what is next on Stephanie's culinary agenda. What other culinary delight will I introduce to my Burkinabe' family? Well, next up on my menu:

THANKSGIVING in Burkina:

~Fried Chicken - thanks dad for the recipe, plus as most of you know I have now mastered the slaughtering of chickens, right? - okay, I know this isn't a Thankgsgiving food persay...but come on...we don't have ovens here so roast turkey is out of the question. You work with what you have people!!!

~Mashed Cheese Potatoes (Potatoes are in season, and thanks to a can of powdered milk, and Velveeta cheese from Mike's brother Jonny - this should be a yummy dish.

~Green Bean Casserole - all I have to figure out how to do is make the cream of mushroom soup

That's right folks...clogging Burkinabe arteries with southern delicacies one family at a timeI will keep you posted on how that actually goes!

So, time is ticking away...I have 10 more days here in the BIG city of Ouahigouya before I get shipped off to my village in Banzon. Once that happens, I fear that you will have to wait quite a long time for my next blog--no internet service there...sorry!

One exciting new occurrence that y'all might find interesting is that I have a dentist appointment! That's right...dentists in Africa?!?! I don't like the idea either, but I fear that I may have some cavities. I think I would rather get dragged around by a donkey, but I don't think I have a choice. Depending on what they say I may have to get the cavity filled here, or get medevac'ed to Dakar, Senegal for more involved dental work (i.e. root canal). I can think of about A MILLION things I would rather do than this! So, think of me, and send good wishes to my teeth!! NO CAVITIES...PLEASE!

And, for those of you intersted...my French level has gotten SOOOO good, that i was able to convince my host father that I DON'T have to walk around wearing my bike helmet. Only when I ride my bike, thank you! Even with all my French neglection I have ascended to Intermediate Advanced in French...oh yeah...moving on up...

I apologize for my blog being a random amalgam of things. I am having a bit of a "stream of conciousness" kind of day. A lot is going through my head as I prepare to move into the middle of nowhere for two years. Hope all is well, and I will keep you posted on my dental and culinary fiascos.

Team USA vs. Team Burkina

2006-11-18T04:12:00.000-08:00

Okay, so right now I should be studying for a French Oral Exam that I have in an hour, but instead I decided to write this blog entry…yeah, that’s right, I am throwing caution to the wind…French level be damned! Anyway, I promised to tell you all about the famous Youba soccer match, and I couldn’t leave you waiting now could I.

So, every Wednesday we have been playing soccer against a local girls team here in Ouahigouya. It has been very interesting getting schooled by girls playing in bare feet and sandals…I have quite enjoyed it—although surprisingly we have tied them each time. Well, word of our athletic prowess spread rather quickly through Burkina and we were challenged to a “real” soccer match in a small village about 15k outside of the city. So, being that Peace Corps never turns down a challenge, we headed out in vans to play the infamous men’s team. I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I signed up to go out there, and I have to say that I was shocked. Youba is a small village consisting of maybe 2000 people—pretty much all of which showed up for the game.

Our opponents were 15-20 year old boys…a bit more formidable than the 12-17 year old girls that we had been playing. I had thought that it was merely a small scrimmage, but we arrived to quite a fanfare. I have never in my life seen so many children in one place at one time…I felt like The Beatles, N’Sync, and New Kids on the Block rolled into one. Oh yeah baby! I am a celebrity here…hahaha! I can’t take all the credit…all you have to do is be white and you’re a celebrity here. Anyhoo, back to the story. So, upon arrival we were issued uniforms! I couldn’t believe it…we donned “Nick & Stef’s Garage Service” jerseys…who knows who Nick and Stef are, where their garage is, or how in the hell they got sponsored shirts to Africa…but it was fun all the same. We finally make it to the field, which is a spectacle of its own. The field is ENTIRELY surrounded by people, rows and rows deeps. Everyone is cheering! The community pooled money together to line the soccer field with white rocks, and they had even cleaned the rocks off the field…it was a pretty sweet deal. There was still a gigantic baobob tree at half field (that interfered with the game several times, but luckily I never ran into), and the field was covered in goat poo…but to them it was like an Olympic Stadium, and for a little while it felt like that to me too. We even had a half-time show…well, okay, it wasn’t a half-time show exactly, it was just a stampede of goats on the field, but come on…use your imagination...this is Africa after all!

We played 40 minute halves and truly were outmatched, but I have never had so much fun playing soccer. We slipped and slip and tripped and fell…and I had a blast. We lost 3-1, but in the end the score didn’t even matter. The entire town showed up and they were so happy and honored that we had all come out. It was amazing…you can make SO MUCH out of SO LITTLE when you want to! What was really a crummy scrimmage in the middle of nowhere, was actually an Olympic game of Team USA/PCV vs. Burkina Faso/Youba. There is almost no way to describe it! Hopefully I will have some pictures posted soon, for now I will post a picture that I took while we were pulling away at the end of the game. The vans were mobbed by about 200 kids and I had to snap a picture…I don’t know if it even captures the madness, but I thought I would post it anyway.

Take a nice sip of ice water for me!

Also, a HUGE thanks to those of you that sent me packages (Mom, Dave/Lindz/Drew, Mike/Julie/Nancy--I didn't call you Mrs. Kaplan this time!, and Jonny!! I can not tell you how much it brightened up my day! I loved it so much...so THANK YOU!! Now, I didn't mention this as an endorsement to send me packages (although if you do I promise to mention you on my blog...hahaha). Just kidding...truly, letters are just as good, sometimes better...so lets keep 'em comin! Thanks to everyone for their support...I just want you all to know that I appreciate it!

Yes, another chicken story!

2006-11-13T06:50:00.000-08:00

So much has happened since I last wrote my blog that I don't even know which story to share with you. So, this entry may be a little jumpy, and I apologize for that. Time is slowly ticking away to the day when the Peace Corps vehicle drops me off in my village and leaves me to fend for myself. Hah, so it isn't that bad...I will know one person there, but I get more nervous as the day approaches. I am happy for the coming independence, yet frightened of being alone. Oh well, it is inevitable, so I must close my eyes and embrace the unknown...something that I have been doing a lot here.

So, since everyone seemed to enjoy the "chicken incident" story, I figure I will start with two funny animal stories...well I don't know if funny is the correct word or gross, but that seems to blend quite a bit here.

First, everyday we generally have language class, and we have class at some establishment in the community. On this day we decided to go to this restaurant. So, we are sitting at this kitchen table under a hangar. Just as a sidenote, while sitting there we get approached at least 20 times by various people selling their 'wares or asking for money--which as unfortunate as it truly is, it grates on you after a while...maybe it is my NYC mentality coming out--ANYWAY! So, as we are playing French Scrabble for the 3rd time that day we hear a commotion coming from across the yard. Looking up, we see this man tying up this poor squealing pig. He is hog-tying it and the thing is just screaming bloody murder...I am sure that little piggy is going to market..hahaha, funny joke...come on, laugh! Anyway, so he finally gets it tied and it is squirming and squealing the entire time. He attempts first to attach it to his handlebars, but he crashes about 5 times. This little pig is fighting for its life. So--for those of you animal lovers/squeamish people out there, stop reading here--he proceeds to start kicking this daylights out of this pig as punishment for the bike accidents he was having. He picks it up and tries to ride away again and falls over once again...at this point everyone in my language class is just falling over laughing. The guy gives up with the handlebars and straps the pig to the back of his bike and rides off--I am not even sure why he didn't do that in the first place. I am assuming he was successful since we heard no squealing after that...but it makes me glad that I don't eat pork!

Okay, now onto my other animal story, and I know you will like this since it has to do with a chicken!! Yeah! So, once again I ws commisioned to cook a dinner for my family, although this time with a lot more notice. So, I decided that I wanted to learn how to cook a chicken...at least now I will be supervised, so I thought it was a good time. Now, back home I would just pop into the supermarket and buy myself some tasty Perdu Boneless Chicken Breasts...but here it is quite a different story. Off I go to the marché with my cousin and my brother to "choisir" (to choose...like that French usage?) my chicken. We walk up to this guy and he has all these wooden cages around him full of different chickens. I tell him that I want a chicken, but that I didn't know how to choose. Well, he reaches in his little cage and pulls out this enormous "cock"...NO I am not being sexual or dirty-minded...a make chicken is called a cock (South Carolina Gamecocks ring a bell?). I had thought it would have been easy to choose a chicken for dinner, but then I looked it in the eye and suddenly got very sad. We continued to barter and settled on a price...all the while I am looking at this poor chicken, and I know it knows it's fate. I even got so sad that I pet the chicken...that's right I did. Luckily, a fellow Peace Corps Volunteer, Minh, was with me and convinced me to stop and look away. Then the word came in..."tuer," which means to kill. Luckily, in Burkina, women are not culturally allowed to kill animals, the rationale is that we bring life into the world...we aren't allowed to take it away. So, for an extra 50 CFA he offers to kill it and clean it for me. My brother offered to stay with the chicken when it was being killed and take it home. I told them, "J'aime le poulet, mais je ne veux pas voir cuand il tue le poulet, et je ne veux pas aporter le poulet avec moi." (basically, I love chicken, but I don't want to watch it get killed or carry it afterwards). So, we finished up our shopping and went home. Now, as soon as I have my pictures sent home to be put on the internet you will understand--because this definitely warranted a picture--but my brother pulls the cleaned chicken out of the bag. I about fell over!!! WARNING!: If you are squeamish don't read beyond this point. They had cut the foot off and put it in the chicken's throat. So it was a whole chicken with a foot sticking out of its throat!!! It's beady little eyes were staring back at me, and finally I just asked him to cut it up and put it in a pot, because I couldn't bear it. About an hour later I go to prepare the chicken for dinner and what do I find in the pot as I am seasoning it...yep, the entire head of the chicken...eyes and all. They offered to take it out, but I figured that if someone eats it, then I should cook it...NOTHING goes to waste in Africa. So, throughout the preparation this little chicken head was staring at me...I felt so guilty. That is until I ate hime, and I have to pat myself on the back with this one...but it was darn good. All you need is some tomatoes, onions, garlic, oil, and lovely season salt frol home and you have a darn good chicken. Let me just tell you that after this experience I will NEVER look at chicken in the grocery store the same way again. But, this is Africa and I felt like I needed to embrace it! I would rather know where my meat is coming from here and know it is prepared correctly. Who would have thought that I would one day be here and be doing this! I al realizing that I am capable of doing so much more than I ever thought, and this chicken is just the tip of the iceberg.

Anyway, I had so many more stories I would like to share, but I am running out of time at the internet cafe, so I must leave you with only these. Next time I will share about the enormoius soccer match that we played against a neighboring village. About 700 people showed up to watch...it was amazing. Complete with goats in the field and a gigantic tree growing at midfield! A truly African experience.

Hope all is well, and stay in touch. Feel free to leave comments questions in the comments section and I will try and answer it!Mo

The same...but different...and other musings...

2006-11-06T09:30:00.000-08:00

Okay…so a lot has happened in the last several days and I have a lot of to write about. So, this entry is going to contain a lot of different things.

Here in Burkina—although during the week I am extremely busy with French and other aimless learning tasks—I have a lot of free time to sit, observe, and people watch…something that I wish I had done more of in the past. One thing that I have learned about things here is that when you boil things down to the essentials…things really are not all that different. Relationships, families, emotions, etc. Yes, the customs differ a bit here than they do from the States, and yes there is definitely more poverty here, but regardless of this fact things are “the same…but different.”

I sat in my courtyard and watched as my brother made fun of my sister as she did her homework…”trop facile” he kept saying, and he would laugh and walk away. He continued to return every few minutes and laugh and poke fun at her. It made me think of the times that my brother, Dave, would do the same thing to me. I don’t know why I noticed it so much, it just seems like such an irony that with all the differences here in living style, poverty levels, etc. that at heart people are exactly the same. It is a very comforting realization for me as I sit on the outside looking in. For me, an obviously white American, there is no way for me to blend in…no matter how hard I try or how long I lay out in the sun. So, at least I can take comfort in the fact that we share at least a few things in common. I think that it may keep me sane while I am here. Hahaha!

Okay…enough with my introspectiveness…

SO, it is official…I have a village, I have a home, I have a job!! YEAH! Here is the
rundown on where I am going to be and what I am going to do.

I am going to be living in a medium-sized village called Banzon. It is in the Southwest of the country…about 60 kilometers from Bobo-Dioulasso (the 2nd largest city in Burkina). When they interviewed me about my desired site I told them that “green” was very important to me…and green is what I got. This is the fruit basket and rice capital of Burkina!! From what I have been told I will have mango and orange trees growing in my backyard!! It sounds so peaceful doesn’t it? There is not a whole lot of information available on the villages of Burkina, but from what I have gathered I will have cell phone service…and I will NOT have running water, electricity, or internet. Sadly, my closest neighbor is a 60k bike ride/transport ride away...so I may get lonely out there. Hopefully I won't start talking to myself. If I can make sure that doesn't happen I will be fine. I will have to bike or take transport into Bobo to get my mail and to use the internet, and hopefully there will be some form of access to charge electronics in my village (i.e. someone with a car battery).

One thing that may surprise you is that this former city girl will be working in Agriculture. That’s right…I will be teaching some of the world’s best farmers how to be better farmers…HAHAHA, yeah right. They also want some help with “elevage” which is animal raising. I know a whole lot about that…NOT! These are just a few of my duties, on top of helping them with petite commerce and marketing for their Shea Butter and Rice. At least I know I will have very soft skin! Hehehe. No, really, I am actually very happy with my village and my assignment. I think in general with the Peace Corps everything is VERY general, and you may not even end up doing what you were assigned to do…so I look forward to making this experience my own.

It is a NEW site, so I will be the first volunteer at this village, and I can’t wait to get there and start fixing up my house. I have GRAND plans of a screened in porch and more. I have been assured that there will be TONS of time to do projects with my house, and to be honest I look forward to a little quiet time. Thus far I haven’t been able to have that, and I think I need a little time to myself to process everything that has been going on here.

So, 4 more weeks of training, including not only mastering the French language, but I will also begin learning a language called, Joule. This is a language that is spoken throughout West Africa…so I am racking it up when it comes to languages…can we say tri/qua-lingual…WOO HOO!

Now I have something to look forward to, and that is a good thing.

Also, some of you will be sad to know that I experienced my first instance of absolute SICKNESS! That’s right..I finally succumbed to the inevitable. We went to the capital, Ouaga, for a couple of days to tour the PC Office, and to check out the largest arts and crafts fair in Africa, SIAO. Well, the first night we decided that we wanted some tasty Chinese Food…good idea??? I think not! The food was amazing (going down), and I had duck curry. Very enjoyable. That is until about 2:30 that morning when my body rejected the wonderful cuisine and I proceeded to throw up and poo for about 6 hours. Now, I know this may be gross for a lot of you, or shocking, but here in Burkina (and I would imagine the Peace Corps in general) it is pretty normal to discuss your bowel movements without embarrassment because once you get here there (a) isn’t much to talk about, and (b) it seems to be the most volatile and changing thing about your body. So, if you are blushing right now just skip down to the next paragraph. Anyway…I continue. So, I proceeded to vomit and poo (at the same time…if you even knew that was possible). Finally, my roommate Erica got the nurse and she gave me some fabulous anti-nausea medication that stopped me from vomiting. Unfortunately, I never made it to SIAO, and spent the rest of the day sleeping and recovering.

It was a sad and hard day for me…but I pushed through and chalked it up to the fact that by deciding to live here I better just embrace the sickness and nausea as a part of the process. All it can do is make me stronger right? Shoot, for those of you that know me and understand my GIGANTIC fear of needles…you will be happy to know that I take ‘em like a champ now…not even a flinch…so even in just 5 weeks here I am stronger than I was when I arrived. Just think how strong I will be when I get back in 27 months.

Alright…well, I have written for way too long, and since I have no internet time and no money to spend I don’t even have time to look back and see if any of this makes sense or is entertaining. Feel free to complain in the comments block below.

Also, for the person that wanted to know the time difference from here to the states…for those of you in the Eastern Time Zone you are 5 hours behind me, and those of you in the Central Time Zone you are 6 hours behind me. I generally keep my phone on me…so call anytime really.

It is now “winter” here, which means 70 degree weather in the morning. This translates into people walking around in GIGANTIC parkas and wool hats…a la Ralphie’s brother in “A Christmas story”…it’s ridiculous. I love it...heated up water for baths…cool air to sleep in…it’s the season!!

Talk soon y’all…stay safe.

Extra, Extra!! First picture from Burkina Faso!

2006-10-31T05:23:00.000-08:00

Hello all!! I found a way to post this up there so I thought I would grace you with the FIRST EVER picture from Burkina Faso.

I have to send the rest of my pics to my brother on a disc and he wil upload them...it is WAY too slow here to do it. I wanted to wet your appetite with one picture first, though.

From left to right it is my Dad, Saba Moulaye; a neighborhood kid--don't knoz his name, the brother of my dad-I think; Me; my mom-Aminata, and my brother, Nayeem--who is turned around in this pic.
At about 6:00 my family sprung on me that I was to make dinner that night. So, I rushed to my box of goodies that was sent by my Dad's girlfriend, Honi, and the box of stuff from my mom and grabbed the first things I saw...Kraft Mac & Cheese, and garlic salt. After rushing to the market to get some powdered milk and margarine--which I was surprised to find doesn't need to be refrigerated-- I whipped up the Mac & Cheese and Garlic Bread. It was an ABSOLUTE hit. It took me a good 10 minutes to describe the idea of powdered cheese...they were absolutely amazed. My mom wants me to show her how to make the garlic bread on another night, and my dad was basically licking the plate when it was gone. I was so worried that they were going to think it was a "cheap" meal...their meals take all day to prepare, and this took me maybe a total of an hour...but they loved it, and I was really happy that they were happy.

It was a good night for all...I shared a bit of "American Culture" and the Macaroni boxes are still being used for multile purposes such as pot holders, decorations, play toys, etc.

Anyway, this is a picture of us after dinner. I was a little sick that day...so I don't look that great...but this is Burkina, so what can I say! Enjoy, and I can't wait to send more pics your way!

Two posts in a day!?!? WHAT!? I am that bored...so call me!!!

2006-10-28T07:40:00.000-07:00

Okay, it's just that I am bore and also because they paid me today so I have money...YEAH!!

For those of you that so desperately want to call me, and I know there are a lot of you out there--come on, don't be shy!!! I have discovered a pretty cheap calling service that some of you could take advantage of.

Here is a link to the site. Copy and paste this link into your browser.

www.tel3advantage.com/?AgentNumber=073320

Use the promotion code (#073320) and sign up for an account. I am pretty sure that you get some free minutes to start off with, and it is the cheapest that I have found so far (.21/minute)

Come on...I know you have been itching to call me and say WHAT'S UP!?!? Plus, how cool is it that you get to talk to someone in Africa...really?!?

Just kidding...I have been getting a lot of requests about this subject, so I thought I would go ahead and put up a post today. Because, once I move to my petite village in the middle of nowhere I won't get to talk to anyone. So, take advantage of me while you can!

Hope everyone is well...doing well, feeling well...about all I could ask for at the moment.

Fan or Computer...That is the question...

2006-10-28T05:02:00.000-07:00

So, I am sitting here at 12:23 and for some odd reason I just can’t sleep. Wait…I know what that reason is…IT’S HOT!! That’s right folks…It’s another hot one in my room. Honestly, I would prefer to sleep outside except that I don’t want the ridicule and stares that come with whipping out my crazy Tropic Screen Tent to protect my fragile body from the crazy mosquitoes. While everyone else sleeps on a straw mat and using a rock for a pillow (and I kid you not on that one), I will be in my “space pod” with a mattress and a pillow…hmmmm…I don’t think so!

Anyway, so I am sitting here sweating bullets while I type this. It is a horrible trade off…fan or computer, fan or computer…they can’t both be plugged in at once—I only have one outlet in my room. I chose the computer for now…but pardon me if this is a short entry. I received my first packages today…THANKS MOM! It took quite a while for them to get here, and one of the boxes had to be bagged in a sack because it absolutely fell apart. So far though, NO LETTERS!! Where are you guys? Are you out there? You can’t be that busy…come on! Hehehe…just kidding.

I just realized that the reason I might be so awake is because of the sugar high that I now have from eating all the candy that is in the box my mom sent me…hmmmm….good idea/bad idea? Whose to say.

Anyway, back to my train of thought…which there really isn’t one, but stick with me here. I had my interview for site placement, and I will find out next week where in Burkina I will be living, and in what job I will be working. When I say “job” I mean that in the loosest sense possible…because generally you end up doing a lot of things. I am in the SED Program (or en francais, Petit ey Moyens Enterprise). There are 4 main areas that we can work in: (1) Tourism, (2) Agribusiness/Artisans, (3) ICT – Information/Communication Technology, and (4) Microfinance. In my interview I basically said anything would be fine except Microfinance…can any of you see me working in a bank?? NO!!!! Hehehe. I really don’t know where I am going to get placed, and although it worries me a little, I am sure that things will work out for the best (I say that now anyway). I told them that I wanted a smaller village, and that as long as I had cell phone service I didn’t care whether I had electricity or internet access. I also said that I wanted to live in the SOUTH of the country…like FAR SOUTH…so hopefully that message got through to them. I hear that there are palm trees, rolling hills, green, veggies, and all sorts of fun stuff down there…and I want to go. No desert for me thank you very much! I know you are hanging on the edge of your seat waiting to find out where I will be living…it’s okay…next Thursday is the day.

Anyway, I need to focus on something else. I realized today that it is exactly 4 weeks today that I have been living in Burkina Faso. So, let’s have a “4 Weeks Later Update.” I have found here that the longer I am here the more “accepting” I am of a lot of things. Most of this applies to things related to hygiene and cleanliness, but I will humor you with some stories.

When I first arrived, I was appalled by the look of the flush toilets. I wouldn’t even THINK about plopping down on one of those without breaking out the toilet seat cover. Now, 4 weeks later…flush toilets are a thing of beauty…no matter what condition they’re in. I can’t wait to get back to NYC and think that the local Starbuck’s bathroom is the freakin’ Ritz!

In the good ‘ol US of A I would not have put up with bugs in my food. No siree! But, 4 weeks later…I figure what the hell…all I have been eating is carbs, and that is a good source of protein!

When I first arrived I found it a bit odd that people just dug around in their nostril for whatever prize or booger they were looking for. Now, it doesn’t even phase me that she is able to eat, hold her child, talk, and pick her nose at the same time. I think it’s a real skill…truly.

Originally upon arrival here I cringed at the site of ANY insect. However, yesterday when I had my first cockroach attack I barely flinched. I opened the door and when I saw it I started backing away..I kid you not, that sucker (which was about the 3 inches long) followed me around the living room while I backed away from it. It wanted me bad…but then my host sister came in and smashed it with a shoe…there is no way in words I could ever describe the “crunch” that it caused.

Well, like I said…it’s either fan or computer…and I am frickin’ hot now…so I am gonna cut this little exercise short and say goodbye (au revoir). I have my LPI on Saturday, so wish me luck…I need all that I can get.

Also, I have been encountering a lot of questions via IM and email…so I have an idea. Below each blog entry is a comments section…leave your questions in the comment section and I will be happy to answer them as soon as I can. The Peace Corps is all about cross-cultural exchange, and sharing my experience…so let’s get to sharing! What do you want to know?

C'est normal? Je ne pense pas!

2006-10-24T05:10:00.000-07:00

How is everyone doing? I hope you are all well and enjoying the cool weather in America. Things have been moving a long rather well, minus a few minor episodes of frustration/sadness. I will be getting my work assignment/living location in a week, so I am very excited to find out where in Burkina I will be living and what kind of work I will be doing. I already have fabulous ideas for my house that include screened-in porches and wonderful dinners!! Anyone want to come over for a dinner party/house warming? Start saving your money now, and I promise to make you a good dinner!

I was having a conversation with a few of the other trainees here, and it is funny how even in the few weeks that we have been here that our senses have been a bit dulled to the surroundings. Things that would absolutely blow you away in the United States just doesn’t seem to phase me here. So, we came up with a bit of a slogan that we constantly repeat now, “C’est normal? Je ne pense pas…” (Is it normal? I don’t think so.). Here is our ode:

A man feebily attempting to navigate his bike down the road with 10 live chickens strapped to the handlebars.

C’est normal? Je ne pense pas!

Walking in to my living room only to be surprised that the chicken we will have for dinner has invaded the living room. It proceeds to squawk and fly around until my mother comes in and brushes it outside.

C’est normal? Je ne pense pas!

Walking into my bedroom and become witness to GIGANTIC fire ants ripping apart a live grasshopper and carting it away…this is some National Geographic stuff.

C’est normal? Je ne pense pas!

Being called “Nasara” or “blanche” pretty much ALL day long - in English, “Whitey” pretty much.

C’est normal? Je ne pense pas!

Constantly scraping off layers of dirt from my skin…even if I shower 3 times a day!

C’est normal? Je ne pense pas!

Dodging run away baby goats every time I try to get to my house.

C’est normal? Je ne pense pas!

Being told by my host father that I have to wear my bike helmet...EVEN WHEN I GO FOR A WALK! (sounds ridiculous...but I swear this is true...I think he doesn't want to be the one guy who breaks his white person!)

C'est normql? Je ne pense pas!

Eating pigeons that my brother caught in our backyard--and then trying to explain why we don't eat any of the many NYC pigeons (all in français).

C'est normal? Je ne pense pas!

Oh there could be so much more! I am sure after a few more weeks here it will just be a normal thing. But, sometimes I can’t help but look around and think to myself - ”THIS IS CRAZY.”

Yesterday was the end of Ramadan, which is fabulous because we didn't have class, so all I did was sit in my courtyard and eat WONDERFUL food. I brought out my satellite radio and sat with me dad and listened to classic rock for hours. It was hilarious seeing him dance and sing to Bad Company, Creedence Clearwater Revival, and Bruce Springsteen. He loved it! Later, we rode around to other houses to greet people for the holiday. Every house you go to you are obliged to eat whatever it is that they give you. I swear, I just stopped asking what things are..just eat it. Every time I sat down to eat another fish head I thought to myself...is this the one that is going to make me poo all night long. Luckily, I am feeling good...so I guess I avoided any of the crazy stomach-thrashing microbes. I'm staying strong!

Anyway, for those of you interested, I finally have a cell phone and I have listed the number on the sidebar. I have cell access all day for the time being, so feel free to give me a ring if you would like. I love speaking English!

Stay cool!

The Iron Bowl Lives in Burkina Faso…

2006-10-15T13:05:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I know all of you have been sitting on the edge of your seat waiting for my next post. You don’t have to admit it, I already know. Hehehe.

Things here have been moving along as best as they could be. Il Fait Chaud dans Burkina Faso!! Or for those of you English speakers….IT’S FREAKIN’ HOT! I go to bed hot, I wake up hot, I only get hot water to drink—whether that be tea, or the sun-heated water in my Nalgene. No other way to describe it but hot. Honestly, I have a much higher tolerance level for heat than I had ever imagined. In New York I kept my bedroom a comfy 69-72 degrees Farenheit, but here in Burkina Faso I get a nice toasty 85-89 in my room. That makes for a good night sleep, let me tell you! Truly it sounds a lot worse than it is…I think anyway. I am lucky in that I live with a wonderful family that has electricity, so I get a fan that blows on me at night. So, thank heavens for the small things.

Not to get all sappy and philosophical on you guys…as you know that is generally not my nature…this experience, even in the small amount that I have had so far, makes me realize and appreciate SO many different things. To even talk about it will sound cliché, but I am constantly amazed at the resilience and stamina of the people here. Life here is so vastly different from that of the United States, yet everyone here seems fairly content with the way their lives are. In my time in New York I found myself getting caught up in the non-stop life of “wanting” and “needing” so many things, and here the only thing they have are the things they “need.” I constantly found myself moving from one “want” to another, and never being satisfied. Now, that isn’t to say that wanting things is bad…I just think in my case I was never satisfied. I don’t know whether an experience like this can cure me of this bad habit…but for me to even be thinking about it is a good first step. Sometimes I have to look around and pinch myself…am I really here. It feels like an extended vacation (minus a pool, beach, friends).

Anyway, enough of that…back to more important things. Last night I had a wonderful time with my family. We stayed up extra late to watch the season premiere of “24.” That’s right….the Burkinabe LOVE Jack Bauer. Hah…and you wonder where they get their preconceived notions about Americans. We are on Season 2 here, and my dad was SO happy for it to finally be in TV. Watching it in French was interesting, and even though I have seen this season I still had no idea what the hell was going on. Lord help me when it comes to French. They say that one day it will all just click…I’m waiting!! A not to those that might be able to help…if you have any of the season DVD’s of “24” and you know how to burn copies, I would LOVE to give my dad a few seasons of “24” for him to watch. He has a DVD player here, so it will work. Anyone help me with this?

I know you must be wonder what I meant by my title, so here is the story. We started a savings and credit club here Ouighouya. Basically, you get a group of women together and you teach them how to save money, and every week they put some money in a box. They can either pool their money for some business purpose that will hopefully reap them a profit…or they can just save it for the joy of saving money. Anyway, as we are leaving this guy approaches. What do I see him wearing but an Alabama vs. Auburn Iron Bowl T-Shirt. I about fell over when I saw it, and for a second I thought I was home. I sat down next to him and in the most perfect French ever told him the significance of the Iron Bowl, the history, etc. I really made a connection. OKAY…just kidding. Since I have about a 1st grade knowledge of French, I sat down next to this guy, in broken French said I liked his shirt and that I was from the state of Alabama, and then he started to give it to me. Quickly, one of my Peace Corps partners jumped in and rectified the situation for me. Evidently, when you tell someone you like something they are in some ways obliged to give it to you. It was pretty hilarious. It was nice to see though…a taste of home in the hot, far away land of Burkina.

Today I got my first cooking lesson. I learned how to make sauce de arrachide (?) – Peanut Sauce. It was a lot of fun to make, but it also means standing next to a wood fire and stirring a pot for 4 hours…while it’s 100 degrees out. It was a tough experience, and next time they told me that I have to make it along with no help. So, as long as I don’t hurt myself or someone else in the process then I will be okay.

Anyway, I am rambling, so I will let you all go. Again, thank you for all the support and the emails. I am adding below a little “Communication Addendum” so as to clear up an confusion:

(1) Email/Internet: At this point I have fairly regular access my email/internet. However, it is costly (by Burkina standards), and is at times VERY SLOW. It took me 30 minutes just to look at 2 emails!!! So, I just want to let you all know that I DO read all of your emails, however it is a little difficult to respond. Now that I have my computer up and running I may read them at the Cybercafe, go home and form my response, and then go back later and send the reply. But, for now it is difficult…so continue to send questions and well-wishes and I promise I will read them and respond as soon as I can.

(2) Mail: I would absolutely LOVE to receive any form of mail whether that be a letter or a package. It truly doesn’t matter. I hate being the only one without a letter when they do mail call…Boo! Hehehe. As for right now, I have to be fairly discriminate on what letters I send to the states. I get a weekly per diem of $25 right now, and a letter to the states costs $1.50…so it doesn’t quite fit into my budget at the moment. If you send me a letter I promise to send one back…so I guess, as harsh as it sounds, I am instituting a “give and get” policy. Once I move into my village and have more money I will be more apt to send letters to those that haven’t sent to me yet…but I just wanted to warn you…so don’t feel neglected. As you can see on my blog there is a wish list or items…so feel free to donate to the feed Stephanie real food fund. Hahaha…

(3) Phone: I have finally turned my phone over to the very wise current volunteers, and I am waiting for them to return it to me unlocked and with a Burkina cell phone number. Until then, calling is VERY expensive. I am in the process of getting a headset to use with Skype, and I will try to make some calls with that when I can…it only costs me .02/minute. So when I get it up and running I will be making some calls to people. Otherwise, at the moment I am fairly limited. If you are interested, download Skype (www.skype.com), and we can talk for free computer-to-computer or you can call my Burkina cell phone for .24/minute…which is pretty good I think. I have used Skype and in general it works really well. Anyway, for those that haven’t received a call, don’t fear…once I get my headset and my phone we can try to keep in touch.

Alright, I think that covers me for the communication portion of this blog. I hope everyone is happy and healthy back in the States! So far, I have had NO real episodes of sickness (i.e. diahrea, vomiting, etc.) and I consider myself obscenely lucky up to this point. Keep your fingers crossed for me and my bowels. Stay close.

Also...WAR EAGLE!!! and Let's Go Mets!!

Ag Jamm—

Stephanie

P.S. Pictures will be coming soon. I have to send my USB Drive to my bro back in the states, and he will put it on Flickr. Stay tuned for that.

Here and safe...except for the chicken incident...

2006-10-02T05:43:00.000-07:00

Hello all. Before I go in to the "chicken incident" I will update you on the happenings here in Burkina. Well I have made it to Burkina Faso in one piece...thank heavens. The flight was VERY long, and all the cold air made me sick. Oh well, sick will be relative onceI get SICK here in Burkina--which they assure us will happen.

I have been here for a week and so far so good. It is almost impossible to describe all that has happened in the past week, but it has been really great. The country is unbelievably beautiful in its own way. We landed in the capital where we stayed for a few days to get our vaccinations and to get settled. Then we moved up north to a city called, Ouaighouya. That is where we started training and got placed with our host families. There are two groups of volunteers here together, Health and Small Enterprised Development (my group). Our host families are based in the city so I have electricity and television. Don't let that fool you though...I still have to go poo (that's right, I sad "poo") in a hole about the size of a small soccer ball--VERY hard to aim, and I shower with a bucket in a stall. Luckily though, just for me, my host family put a door on the "bathroom" so that no one had to see me doing my business.

My host family is amazing!!I have 3 brothers and 1 sister. One of my brothers is 2 years old and he just has a run of the place. He runs around carrying random things as toys, and for fun likes to chase insects. It is so cute. They are so nice, and are extremely patient with me since I can't speak a drop of French really. There was a white woman on the news last night when we were watching television and they said that in two months I would talk like her...so I am putting my faith in them!

We have 9 weeks of training in language and my technical area before I become a volunteer and move to a site by myself...so there is a lot of work ahead.

Okay, enough update...I know you are only here to hear about the "chicken incident." So, on our second day in Ouaighouya we had to go to the palace and salute the chief of the region. It is customary for us to pay our respects. Well, of course our group had to bring a gift right? I was the lucky one selected to bring this gift to him. The gift turned out to be a live chicken and some kola nuts...YEAH! So, we are sitting in this hot room waiting for him to come out and greet us. I have the LIVE chicken in one hand and the bag of nuts in the other. After a while one of the Peace Corps staff tells me Ican set the chicken down on its sad (it won't run away he says). A few min. later, while the king is addressing us someone starts whispering, "chicken, chicken." I was like "I know, I know...it's not time yet!" I thought they were telling me to take it up there. Well, they were trying to tell me that the chicken was on its feet...STANDING!! I look down and as soon as I do the thing darts away from me. One of the host country nationals reaches her hand out SO fast and grabs the thing by the ass and quickly hands him back to me (keep in mind this is happening all while the king is speaking!!!). The thing skwaks a bit but nothing too bad. Well, as I am holding himb by his feet he decides he doesn't want to be there anymore. He starts flapping around like crazy and all I cand do is close my eyes? hold him out to the side of my chair by his feet, and hope he doesn't fly away. Luckily, I held on and presented the gift to the chief. WHEW...I avoided a rqther embarrasing situation, but oh was I embarrassed! My fist encounter with holding a live chicken...one of the many new encounters that I will have here.

Anyway, this is long and I am hungry so I am gonna sign off for now. Thanks for reading and PLEASE stay in touch. The address listed on here is CORRECT so get those letters written. I promise to write back. Love you all, and I hope to hear from you soon.

Bon soir!

Off we go...into the wild blue yonder...

2006-09-25T21:15:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone! I wanted to post a quick little entry before I lose my internet access for a little while. I have been at training for a couple of days now, and I have to say most of all that it is overwhelming. There is so much information to process...I think my brain is on overload. Add into that all of the feelings I have about leaving home, friends, family, and my Mike...it's pretty difficult. I am excited and sad at the same time. It is a tough combination to deal with.

Anyway, on to more fun stuff. So, I have been in Phildelphia since Sunday for Trainee Orientation. This is where we meet all the other people that will be serving in our sector (mine being Small Enterprise Development), as well as meeting some Health sector trainees that are going over as well. It has been a lot of fun meeting so many people from ALL over, and everyone is so excited and we share such a common bond. We are all trekking off into this unknown land...and at least we have eachother. There is something very comforting in that.

Everyone knows that my favorite day is tomorrow. What is tomorrow you might ask? Well...VACCINATION DAY! WOO HOO! Um...NOOOOOOOOT! I have a the craziest fear of needles...so as long as I don't physically harm someone while they try to poke me I will be okay. Lord help me tomorrow...I am going to need it.

Anyway, back to my update. We leave tomorrow night to take a flight from New York City to Paris, and then we go from Paris to Ouagadougou (the capital of Burkina Faso). From there we are going to be transported to a smaller city in Burkina for our PST (Pre-Service Training). Upon arrival in the smaller city we will go through an adoption ceremony, where we are officially adopted into a local Burkinabe' family. We will live in their village with them for the 3 months of training. That is where we will be bombarded with tons of language, health, and technical training....OH MY! It should be a pretty intense few months. I am sure I am going to wish my francais skills were much better.

For those that are concerned about communication, I will have VERY limited access to internet and phone. Text messaging me is probably the best option for now...once I get settled in my adopted families house (which is supposed to happen on Oct. 1st or so), then I will work out the internet. I want to get to my village and get a "lay of the land." Then I can figure out what internet cafe to go to, etc. So...you may not hear from me for a while.

Anyway, things are really good so far...it is exciting, daunting, nerve-wracking, challenging, and all around wonderful. I just want to thank EVERYONE for their calls, their emails, and their messages. I am going to do my best to get in touch with everyone personally...but it is a lot to deal with...so it may take some time. Thanks to EVERYONE for their thoughts, their prayers, their well wishes and more. I can not tell you how much I appreciate it! My address is posted on the site...so if you are ever bored, pop a letter in the mail. I plan on writing to everyone at some point...so don't be shy.

Thanks for everything, I love you all, and "Ag Jamm!"

Battered, bruised, excited, sad, nervous...and on and on...

2006-09-18T20:09:00.000-07:00

Well, my brother and I finished the Coosa River Challenge. I have to say that it was a lot harder than I had expected! The mountain biking portion was rocky--and that is putting it mildly. I made good friends with a tree and hopefully haven't broken a rib...although I don't have medical insurance to even find out...hah! I am sure the pain will go away eventually. Besides that it went pretty well! It took us about 5 1/2 hours, and we did everything from trail running, mountain biking (or in my case--crashing), canoeing (or in our case--tipping), mud pit crawling, bow and arrow shooting, 15-foot cliff jumping and much more. We don't really have any pictures during most of the race, but here are a couple that Lindsay (my brother's wife) got of us:

Here is a pic of us rowing across the river--and yes, our canoe is backward--shush!!

Here is a pic of us FINALLY crossing the finish line!

Even though it wasn't always fun, we had a great time. Even better, Mike was there at the finish line to greet me! He came down for the weekend to hang out, and to come to my Birmingham going away party and more. Here is a cute pic of us after the race, while we were watching the Auburn v. LSU game (WAR EAGLE!)

There are more pics available on my brother's Flickr page which you can access through mine I believe...his username is SteelerDave.

My mom threw me a little going away party on Sunday, which was great. I got to see a lot of great people...so thanks to them for coming out. It is getting closer and closer, and as it approaches the more insurmountable the challenge seems. I finally finished ALMOST all of my packing...so that's good. As far as that 80 lbs. limit that I am supposed to have...I just have to say, HAH!

Well, I have had a wonderful time home. I got to babysit my nephew, hang out with my sis, relax, spend quality time with the 'rents...overall it's been great. I am sad to leave, but I know it isn't forever...

Anyway, this has been a bit of a long post. I guess I am feeling a bit more apprehensive and scared as it approaches. I leave for NYC on Wednesday and to Philly on Sunday for training. Let the games begin!

Parlez-Vous Francais?...Ummmm, not really!

2006-09-13T20:14:00.000-07:00

So, the days are really ticking down now, and it seems like it is FLYING by. I don't think the idea that I have to say goodbye to my family for 2 years (or at least a year until I come visit) has sunk in yet. I started to picture what it would be like the night before I left and I had to push the idea of it from my mind. I have been having so much fun spending time with my mom, and with my little nephew Drew (picture below...isn't he adorable!).

It's hard to imagine that the next time I see him he will be 1 1/2 or 2 years old. I will have to send him pictures and gifts so that he remembers who is Auntie is, and knows who to come to when he wants to get spoiled!

All my preparations seems to be going pretty well. I have almost all that I need to finish packing. I have a few more doubles on my toiletries that I have to purchase...fun times. Mike is coming down this weekend to watch me run in the outdoor triathalon with my brother, and to come to a going away party on Sunday. It will be nice to have him here with me.

I have to admit that I am getting a bit nervous about this whole French requirement. Yes, I fulfilled what the Peace Corps asked of me (to pass through Level 1 and Level 2 of college French). But, my speaking skills are less than stellar, and I am so scared that they are going to boot me or something because of it. I am trying to study on my own, but without speaking it to anyone or even hearing it, I am finding it pretty difficult. Anyone have any ideas?

C'est la vie I guess...A bientot.