December 12th. I’ve been told it’s the second day of Channukah—somehow, it’s approach never even came to mind, given that even if it gets below 60 Fahrenheit in the morning, it’s still well over 85 by midday.
We made a makeshift menorah, using emptied beer and coke bottles. Christmas approaches, too. All the Christians in Thyou (that’s my village) are getting psyched up for it. My first trimester teaching here is almost over. Tests are done with, and I have to correct them, calculate grades (not so easy when lacking Excel), and continue teaching material to test on in January.
Planning a hiking trip in Mali for the break. You can count on pictures. It will be a nice vacation, and it’s the coolest time of year in the desert. Plus, it should all cost under 200 bucks: travel, lodging, food, etc. Not a bad deal. Other than this, there isn’t much that’s new. The exciting things in my life today involve all of YOU. Whether you’ve moved out of your parents’ house since I left, or you’re graduating soon, or you’re getting the kitchen cabinets redone, or you’ve recently gotten engaged… these are the things I’m thinking about on an average day after classes are out. There are a lot of changes happening on the home turf. Heck, a health care bill in the senate? Wow! I’ll tell you what health care is here:
“Don’t eat too many peanuts or you’ll get sick.”
“Don’t let a woman kill the chicken before you eat it or you’ll get sick.”
“Don’t take pictures during a storm because your camera attracts lighting. And if that doesn’t at least burn down your house and electrocute you, you could get sick.”
The other day, while rifling through my bookshelf for something or other, I happened upon the first little packet I received in the mail last April, inviting me to teach science in Burkina Faso. I highlighted the phrase “Your counterpart may help you hook a used car battery up to a fluorescent lamp to do work by at night,” because it sounded so foreign, so post-apocalyptic, so adventurous. Now, in retrospect, this little packet is more of a checklist: Hooked up the battery. I charge it with a solar panel every day. Taught photosynthesis to kids in French (at least a couple of them understood it). I wake up daily to the torturous sound of whining donkeys. There was a screaming goat under my seat on the three-hour bush taxi ride into the capital.
All these things are normal, though. Heck, expected. Unless it’s a particularly existential moment, I’m not stricken that my source of light is velcro-ed to a battery that runs it. The packet I got in the mail—the latter half of a year ago—didn’t lie, but everything in it is just normal happenstance now. What’ll be strangest is the things I have to reacclimatize to upon my return…
Well, my evenings are very free. It’d be sweet to get a call from you. If you don’t already have my number, talk to someone who does!
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Alright, already
I'm on the other side of the planet, sunburning in August, lacking electricity, turkey, and internet, and people are STILL managing to make me feel guilty about the amount of time the blog's been left hanging.
Well, it's my first encounter with the cyberbeast that is the world wide web in a month. I've got 14 minutes left on my timecard to give you an update. It's Thanksgiving today. I celebrated last weekend with a few other volunteers. We substituted chicken (that's Poulet in french) for turkey (though, oddly enough, upon leaving saw two wild turkeys chatting it up), threw together some stuffing which included Peppers and for some reason reminded us of Pizza, mashed Potatoes, and two types of Pie. Pumpkin and Pudding. That's a lot of alliteration.
This weekend is the Muslim holiday Tabasky. I'm not entirely sure what goes down, though I've heard a lot of talk of a goat roast. Mmm-mmm. I suppose every locale has it's favored, traditional act of carnivorism. Thank god for it, too.
Teaching turns out to make time go by pretty quickly. I've got a busy Monday thru Wednesay, a nice relaxing one class on Thursday, and nada for Friday. As it's cooled off, finally (by which I mean high 70's--it's tolerable to be under the sun), I've been doing a lot of biking. Two weekends ago I visited Sapouy (google it) with another volunteer. Today I'm in Koudougou, to head back tomorrow and see what I can catch of the party. Goat leftovers anyone?
I'm thinking of you all back home this holiday! Eat a bunch of dessert for me, and tolerate a little american football.
Best wishes,
Jon
Well, it's my first encounter with the cyberbeast that is the world wide web in a month. I've got 14 minutes left on my timecard to give you an update. It's Thanksgiving today. I celebrated last weekend with a few other volunteers. We substituted chicken (that's Poulet in french) for turkey (though, oddly enough, upon leaving saw two wild turkeys chatting it up), threw together some stuffing which included Peppers and for some reason reminded us of Pizza, mashed Potatoes, and two types of Pie. Pumpkin and Pudding. That's a lot of alliteration.
This weekend is the Muslim holiday Tabasky. I'm not entirely sure what goes down, though I've heard a lot of talk of a goat roast. Mmm-mmm. I suppose every locale has it's favored, traditional act of carnivorism. Thank god for it, too.
Teaching turns out to make time go by pretty quickly. I've got a busy Monday thru Wednesay, a nice relaxing one class on Thursday, and nada for Friday. As it's cooled off, finally (by which I mean high 70's--it's tolerable to be under the sun), I've been doing a lot of biking. Two weekends ago I visited Sapouy (google it) with another volunteer. Today I'm in Koudougou, to head back tomorrow and see what I can catch of the party. Goat leftovers anyone?
I'm thinking of you all back home this holiday! Eat a bunch of dessert for me, and tolerate a little american football.
Best wishes,
Jon
Saturday, October 17, 2009
It's a day job. I just don't get nights off.
So I’ve come out to the capital again to do some work with our Burkina Peace Corps AIDS committee. We’re gearing up for World AIDS Day, and trying to encourage other volunteers to get motivated for side projects involving AIDS.
After our meetings, I solicited a fellow volunteer to cut my hair, as it’s been a few months since my shortest-ever buzz back in training. Today’s cut was a success, and it compliments nicely the beard I’m cultivating—possible only because it’s starting to cool off. We’ll see how long it lasts as it grows, and the hot season approaches.
Teaching is going well. A little bit of a rough start, but the students pay attention, seem to learn a thing or two, and can’t help but laugh at the non-verbal antics of their absurd, mad-scientist-looking Physics/Chemistry/Biology teacher. With lesson planning, I’m trying to think of new and creative ways to present the material to the students—not always effective with the heat, language issues, and jam-packed days.
But it feels just like your regular day job. I get up in the morning, make coffee, feed the dog, brush my teeth, grab the chalk and head for the classroom. I say hi to my boss (trying not to look like too much of a befuddled, wordless mute), shake hands with my colleagues, and think about what I’ll do for lunch. I look forward to the weekend, when I can sit in my hammock with a book, or perhaps visit another volunteer.
The trouble here is that all the while—waking up and going to work and writing lesson plans in my off hours—I need to be assessing the other needs in my community, trying to find ways that I can use my experience to improve things on a grass roots level. It’s sort of easy to just get up and go to work. It gets harder when I know I need to look for things out my door to improve upon, be creative about, take chances with. In any case, I feel like two years might go by pretty quickly. In a way that’s nice—I wont have to fight much boredom. On the other hand, non-education volunteers have more freedom when it comes to planning vacations, visits to other people, etc. But also more potential to really make a difference.
But, in case you were wondering, I’m quite alive. The care packages have all been wonderful (thanks to all), though it’s hard to take such volume back to my site! There are plenty of fresh veggies to get in my market, and with all my new imports, I think I’ll be able to last a good year or so on my SPAM and other canned goodies:
After our meetings, I solicited a fellow volunteer to cut my hair, as it’s been a few months since my shortest-ever buzz back in training. Today’s cut was a success, and it compliments nicely the beard I’m cultivating—possible only because it’s starting to cool off. We’ll see how long it lasts as it grows, and the hot season approaches.
Teaching is going well. A little bit of a rough start, but the students pay attention, seem to learn a thing or two, and can’t help but laugh at the non-verbal antics of their absurd, mad-scientist-looking Physics/Chemistry/Biology teacher. With lesson planning, I’m trying to think of new and creative ways to present the material to the students—not always effective with the heat, language issues, and jam-packed days.
But it feels just like your regular day job. I get up in the morning, make coffee, feed the dog, brush my teeth, grab the chalk and head for the classroom. I say hi to my boss (trying not to look like too much of a befuddled, wordless mute), shake hands with my colleagues, and think about what I’ll do for lunch. I look forward to the weekend, when I can sit in my hammock with a book, or perhaps visit another volunteer.
The trouble here is that all the while—waking up and going to work and writing lesson plans in my off hours—I need to be assessing the other needs in my community, trying to find ways that I can use my experience to improve things on a grass roots level. It’s sort of easy to just get up and go to work. It gets harder when I know I need to look for things out my door to improve upon, be creative about, take chances with. In any case, I feel like two years might go by pretty quickly. In a way that’s nice—I wont have to fight much boredom. On the other hand, non-education volunteers have more freedom when it comes to planning vacations, visits to other people, etc. But also more potential to really make a difference.
But, in case you were wondering, I’m quite alive. The care packages have all been wonderful (thanks to all), though it’s hard to take such volume back to my site! There are plenty of fresh veggies to get in my market, and with all my new imports, I think I’ll be able to last a good year or so on my SPAM and other canned goodies:
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Pictures!
Pictures first, paragraphs later.
Caterpillar who fell from my tree (I found it, he ate it):
Some unwelcome roommates (he found them, I killed them):
The only welcome roommate:
A view of the courtyard:
Inside my house:
Tree (and hammock) in my courtyard:
Soccer field outside my house:
A class at model school (can you find me?):
With the host parents in Ouahigouya:
But, life ain’t bad in Thyou. For a month now, I’ve been doing essentially nothing but trying to meet some people, find some balance, stay positive, and pressure my school’s director into giving me something to prepare my courses with. I’ve taught the new dog a few tricks, had a few good conversations on the phone with those of you generous (and wealthy) enough to call, and figured out that if I don’t buy all my vegetables from the same lady at market, everybody competes for my business—donating extra onions, tomatoes, eggplants, or hot peppers to my cause.
There were certainly a few days of unrest. A few days of sickness. A day or two that I read, and re-read the symptoms and manifestations of malaria, thermometer in mouth. But with the first month over with, it’s feeling like this wont be so bad. I can live this way for a year or two. The occasional care package certainly helps. Last week, somebody from the Peace Corps was passing by my house in a jeep, so brought me SIX large boxes with my name on them, literally. After tearing into them, I was able to cook up a phenomenal tuna, tomato, onion and hot pepper pasta. Safe to say I’m eating just fine.
The problem now is, I’ve been on vacation—not that getting to know a place so removed from my own culture is an easy task, but I haven’t been given any due dates. School starts next week. That means I now have lessons to plan, more names to learn, technical french to understand. After a month, I finally feel calm, controlled, comfortable, and now it will change all over again. Much work to be done. And while a little work is a good thing, it doesn’t come without it stresses.
For now, I’m enjoying the few days in the capital, stuffing the gut on comfort foods, and taking a few cleansing showers—essentially gearing up to go back into hibernation. There is a town with an internet cafe and electricity 13 km from me. The man working there said the internet will be up and running in November. In Africa, a promise like this means close to nothing, but let’s hope he’s right! In the meantime, I’ll need to come out to the capital at least once more before November for professional reasons. So this just might work out…
Wish me luck in the coming school year. Miss you all very much. Thyou, while lovely, is a little lonely as an American. We’ll chat again soon.
-Jon
Caterpillar who fell from my tree (I found it, he ate it):
Some unwelcome roommates (he found them, I killed them):
The only welcome roommate:
A view of the courtyard:
Inside my house:
Tree (and hammock) in my courtyard:
Soccer field outside my house:
A class at model school (can you find me?):
With the host parents in Ouahigouya:
But, life ain’t bad in Thyou. For a month now, I’ve been doing essentially nothing but trying to meet some people, find some balance, stay positive, and pressure my school’s director into giving me something to prepare my courses with. I’ve taught the new dog a few tricks, had a few good conversations on the phone with those of you generous (and wealthy) enough to call, and figured out that if I don’t buy all my vegetables from the same lady at market, everybody competes for my business—donating extra onions, tomatoes, eggplants, or hot peppers to my cause.
There were certainly a few days of unrest. A few days of sickness. A day or two that I read, and re-read the symptoms and manifestations of malaria, thermometer in mouth. But with the first month over with, it’s feeling like this wont be so bad. I can live this way for a year or two. The occasional care package certainly helps. Last week, somebody from the Peace Corps was passing by my house in a jeep, so brought me SIX large boxes with my name on them, literally. After tearing into them, I was able to cook up a phenomenal tuna, tomato, onion and hot pepper pasta. Safe to say I’m eating just fine.
The problem now is, I’ve been on vacation—not that getting to know a place so removed from my own culture is an easy task, but I haven’t been given any due dates. School starts next week. That means I now have lessons to plan, more names to learn, technical french to understand. After a month, I finally feel calm, controlled, comfortable, and now it will change all over again. Much work to be done. And while a little work is a good thing, it doesn’t come without it stresses.
For now, I’m enjoying the few days in the capital, stuffing the gut on comfort foods, and taking a few cleansing showers—essentially gearing up to go back into hibernation. There is a town with an internet cafe and electricity 13 km from me. The man working there said the internet will be up and running in November. In Africa, a promise like this means close to nothing, but let’s hope he’s right! In the meantime, I’ll need to come out to the capital at least once more before November for professional reasons. So this just might work out…
Wish me luck in the coming school year. Miss you all very much. Thyou, while lovely, is a little lonely as an American. We’ll chat again soon.
-Jon
Saturday, September 12, 2009
At site
Today marks one week and two days at my site, though by the time I manage to get to an internet café—and by the time you read this post—it’s probably well past today’s date. Nonetheless, I’m writing today (on the remaining moments of my laptop’s miniscule battery life) because, for one I’m a little bored, and for two I hope to chronicle my initial reactions as I start getting settled.
So the first week has come and gone. Upon my arrival in the big, fancy, one-way-ticket Peace Corps jeep, a tribe of children showed up to watch me unload my things. One boy, who I met two months ago, when visiting my site, informed me that the next day was “market day”. There is a market in my town once every three days. So, after my first rather restless night, I woke up and headed down the dirt path running by my new (for me at least) house. I wasn’t sure exactly where the market was, but I followed the people walking by, assuming they were headed for the same place.
Upon arrival at the market, I was hugely overwhelmed. It was much, much larger than I was expecting, packed with people. And to make things worse, all eyes were on me—the obviously clueless sore thumb. I tried to keep a low profile (impossible), tried to navigate the pathways (senseless), and narrowed my priorities down to simply finding a few vegetables for my chili recipe and getting the heck out of there. Lucky for me, I ran into the boy from the day before, who showed me the way, and translated prices for me from Moore to French.
I of course realized the strangeness of what was going on at the time. Dropped in a small town in the middle of Western Africa, my only acquaintance this eager-to-know-me-for-reasons-I’m-unsure-of youth, I tried to take things in stride. I bought a few tomatoes, onions and hot peppers, and split. Thankfully, the volunteer I replaced has left me a gas stove and a few pots and pans, and I had bought a few canned goods when I was still in Ouagadougou (the capital). I cooked up what I considered a rather phenomenal meal and started feeling comfortable.
My house is pretty nice. There is a wall with a gate surrounding it, which leaves me with a nice big courtyard and a big old tree from which a hammock hangs (thanks to the previous volunteer), for those African-afternoon-heat naps. I took pictures. When I get this entry posted, I’ll try to post the pics as well (though as you can imagine, uploading times here are not optimal).
So, it’s been a week. A few days ago, I hopped on my bike early in the morning and visited another volunteer from my training group. The village this volunteer lives in is even smaller than mine. While there, I didn’t meet a soul who spoke French. We hung out, made french toast, and spoke lots and lots of much-needed English. It’s good to know we’re having some of the same adjustment issues.
Today was the first day since getting to my site that I woke up feeling legitimately homesick. I felt this feeling during training a little bit, but we were so busy that there was hardly time to think about it. Now, after waking up, brushing my teeth, and putting water on the stove for some instant coffee, I suddenly realize that I have to find something to do today. I’ve already finished two books in the week that I’ve been here, and at this rate, I’m going to run out of material pretty quick. All this time sitting around, of course, makes me face West and wonder what YOU are up to. (So send letters…)
Today, I also bought a car battery to power the fluorescent light I will use to write lesson plans and grade papers.
There are three minutes left on my laptop battery, and I hate being pressed for time when writing. I miss you all very much. I took up four pages in my journal just describing people I want to hang out with (you—dear reader—are one of them), things I want to do, and time I’d like to waste back home. See you all before you know it.
News from week 2: I got a dog to keep me company. Not much else going on. Pictures posted below...
Jon
My dog (he figured out pretty quickly how to get on my good side):
So the first week has come and gone. Upon my arrival in the big, fancy, one-way-ticket Peace Corps jeep, a tribe of children showed up to watch me unload my things. One boy, who I met two months ago, when visiting my site, informed me that the next day was “market day”. There is a market in my town once every three days. So, after my first rather restless night, I woke up and headed down the dirt path running by my new (for me at least) house. I wasn’t sure exactly where the market was, but I followed the people walking by, assuming they were headed for the same place.
Upon arrival at the market, I was hugely overwhelmed. It was much, much larger than I was expecting, packed with people. And to make things worse, all eyes were on me—the obviously clueless sore thumb. I tried to keep a low profile (impossible), tried to navigate the pathways (senseless), and narrowed my priorities down to simply finding a few vegetables for my chili recipe and getting the heck out of there. Lucky for me, I ran into the boy from the day before, who showed me the way, and translated prices for me from Moore to French.
I of course realized the strangeness of what was going on at the time. Dropped in a small town in the middle of Western Africa, my only acquaintance this eager-to-know-me-for-reasons-I’m-unsure-of youth, I tried to take things in stride. I bought a few tomatoes, onions and hot peppers, and split. Thankfully, the volunteer I replaced has left me a gas stove and a few pots and pans, and I had bought a few canned goods when I was still in Ouagadougou (the capital). I cooked up what I considered a rather phenomenal meal and started feeling comfortable.
My house is pretty nice. There is a wall with a gate surrounding it, which leaves me with a nice big courtyard and a big old tree from which a hammock hangs (thanks to the previous volunteer), for those African-afternoon-heat naps. I took pictures. When I get this entry posted, I’ll try to post the pics as well (though as you can imagine, uploading times here are not optimal).
So, it’s been a week. A few days ago, I hopped on my bike early in the morning and visited another volunteer from my training group. The village this volunteer lives in is even smaller than mine. While there, I didn’t meet a soul who spoke French. We hung out, made french toast, and spoke lots and lots of much-needed English. It’s good to know we’re having some of the same adjustment issues.
Today was the first day since getting to my site that I woke up feeling legitimately homesick. I felt this feeling during training a little bit, but we were so busy that there was hardly time to think about it. Now, after waking up, brushing my teeth, and putting water on the stove for some instant coffee, I suddenly realize that I have to find something to do today. I’ve already finished two books in the week that I’ve been here, and at this rate, I’m going to run out of material pretty quick. All this time sitting around, of course, makes me face West and wonder what YOU are up to. (So send letters…)
Today, I also bought a car battery to power the fluorescent light I will use to write lesson plans and grade papers.
There are three minutes left on my laptop battery, and I hate being pressed for time when writing. I miss you all very much. I took up four pages in my journal just describing people I want to hang out with (you—dear reader—are one of them), things I want to do, and time I’d like to waste back home. See you all before you know it.
News from week 2: I got a dog to keep me company. Not much else going on. Pictures posted below...
Jon
My house:
My dog (he figured out pretty quickly how to get on my good side):
Monday, August 10, 2009
Let's Get Started
The end of training is upon us, and we couldn’t feel it more heavily than now. Model school has been a huge stress (though arguably successful), and as we begin our final week of teaching, there isn’t a soul here who doesn’t wake up each morning thinking, Can I PLEASE just get to my site and get this whole two-year-commitment thing started? I’ve escaped a few things in my move to Africa, but senioritis isn’t one of them.
Just last week, we had a session on cooking. They gave us a Burkina-specific Peace Corps guide, with loads of delicious recipes, American and otherwise, which we should be able to throw together with ingredients from our local markets. Presenting us with this information towards the end of training was—as I now realize—a very good idea. We are now enlightened souls—so sick of rice and couscous that some of us (okay, mainly I) can’t get out of bed for two hours on Sunday mornings, with the knowledge that we will, in a matter of days, be able to cook ourselves some damn pancakes and drown them in loads of syrup.
Eleven days until we bid goodbye to our host families, and to the barren-though-homely city of Ouahigouya which we’ve learned to appreciate, in a hometown-pride kind of way. After a brief stint and Swearing-In as volunteers in Ouagadougou, we will be escorted to our sites by Peace Corps vehicles with all the junk we brought from America, and all the relics we’ve acquired here thus far. It seems that each of us has an unspoken plan, while in Ouaga, to put ourselves into a debt of General-Motors proportions, as it will be our last chance to acquire those amenities and creature comforts which will permit us to survive as foreigners in a land entirely alien to our own.
Hopefully the Wonderful Wizard of Ouaga possesses the power to grant us all our wishes. Among my priorities are a solar panel (brain), a french press (courage), and a can opener (heart, for the tin man). With the panel, I should be able to charge my phone, possibly my computer, and if nothing else, a tiny light to grade papers by. With the french press, I should be able to continue my self-serving addictions. And with a can opener, I’ll be able to open cans. Duh.
The volunteer transit house in Ouaga has free internet. I’ll try to get some pictures posted when I’m there. Sorry for the wait! Internet time is pricey, pictures take a while to load, and I tend to let other volunteers take party shots…
I’ve updated the Want List. It should be in the column on your left. Don’t feel obliged. I’m a big boy.
-J
Just last week, we had a session on cooking. They gave us a Burkina-specific Peace Corps guide, with loads of delicious recipes, American and otherwise, which we should be able to throw together with ingredients from our local markets. Presenting us with this information towards the end of training was—as I now realize—a very good idea. We are now enlightened souls—so sick of rice and couscous that some of us (okay, mainly I) can’t get out of bed for two hours on Sunday mornings, with the knowledge that we will, in a matter of days, be able to cook ourselves some damn pancakes and drown them in loads of syrup.
Eleven days until we bid goodbye to our host families, and to the barren-though-homely city of Ouahigouya which we’ve learned to appreciate, in a hometown-pride kind of way. After a brief stint and Swearing-In as volunteers in Ouagadougou, we will be escorted to our sites by Peace Corps vehicles with all the junk we brought from America, and all the relics we’ve acquired here thus far. It seems that each of us has an unspoken plan, while in Ouaga, to put ourselves into a debt of General-Motors proportions, as it will be our last chance to acquire those amenities and creature comforts which will permit us to survive as foreigners in a land entirely alien to our own.
Hopefully the Wonderful Wizard of Ouaga possesses the power to grant us all our wishes. Among my priorities are a solar panel (brain), a french press (courage), and a can opener (heart, for the tin man). With the panel, I should be able to charge my phone, possibly my computer, and if nothing else, a tiny light to grade papers by. With the french press, I should be able to continue my self-serving addictions. And with a can opener, I’ll be able to open cans. Duh.
The volunteer transit house in Ouaga has free internet. I’ll try to get some pictures posted when I’m there. Sorry for the wait! Internet time is pricey, pictures take a while to load, and I tend to let other volunteers take party shots…
I’ve updated the Want List. It should be in the column on your left. Don’t feel obliged. I’m a big boy.
-J
Thursday, July 23, 2009
African Birthday
Today is what those of you in the States commonly refer to as my “Golden Birthday.” I turn 23 on the 23rd of July, and what a place to do so! I think I’ll celebrate by eating the whole bag of Snickers that my mom sent me, and perhaps I’ll go out with the other trainees for a cold Brakina after class.
Site visit was pretty great. Thyou (pronounced “tee-oo”) is kind of in the middle of nowhere—not unlike Urbana-Champaign (though I wont be expecting a snow day this January). It’s a small town, surrounded by smaller villages. Students from these villages will come to my school to learn important things. The school is right out the door from my house, where I have a nice courtyard, room for a small garden, a kitchen, bedroom, living room, and hole to poop in. Since I’m taking over for a volunteer who is leaving in August, I’ll be inheriting a few things, such as a hammock, a stove, a desk, a car battery to power my desk light, and perhaps a neighbor child who likes to hang out in my courtyard. I’m weighing whether or not I want to get a pet (other than the kid). Having a dog is not unheard of here, though when my two years is up, I wouldn’t know who to give him/her to. We’ll see.
From Thyou, the closest town with internet access looks to be Koudougou. I can bike the topographically flat 40km between them in less than two hours, or catch a bush taxi (a U-Haul sized bus) into town for pretty cheap. I’d have to devote the day downtown. Looks like life won’t be much different from living 50 miles outside of Chicago. There are a couple volunteers living in town, with whom I could stay overnight if I find the ride back some evening to be unappealing.
Thyou’s got a convenience store, gas station, and a few shops where I’ll be able to get any necessities. The market in my town is allegedly preferable to that of Koudougou, so I suppose I’ll be learning how to cook (am I a catch, or what?). The volunteer I’m replacing is convinced that Thyou makes the best bread of anywhere in Burkina Faso. I will test this theory. I’ll spend the next few weeks brainstorming how I’ll decorate and modify my first bachelor pad. Anyone interested in flying out to paint a mural with me is more than welcome.
Model School starts this week! Today I sat in on a math class taught by a Burkinabe teacher. I had trouble staying awake. It seems some dilemmas are international. I’ll start teaching next monday. For the first two weeks, I’ve happily chosen to teach physics—a somehow unpopular subject among the other trainees. Later, I’ll probably switch to Biology, and sit in on some math classes, as I’ll likely be asked to teach these classes in Thyou. With this new phase in training, many of us education volunteers feel a refreshing sense of purpose…
French is going well. Last week, I tested in at the level required for teaching volunteers. This means I can spend the rest of training over-achieving. I’ll continue studying French, and I’ll also have weekly sessions of Moore—the local language spoken in Thyou. I find that in French, I can understand pretty much everything when listening to someone in person (as opposed to on television or radio), but I need still the vocabulary and colloquialisms necessary for non-robotic responses. Petit à petit.
What more to say? After site visit, we got to stay at the volunteer house in the capital (Ouagadougou). It was like vacation. I got to have pizza, ice cream, tacos, hamburgers, draught beer, bacon, ice cream, waffles, ice cream, onion rings, banana bread, ice cream, legitimately brewed (not instant) coffee, and ice cream. Don’t judge me. We all have vices. While incredible, these delicacies cost a pretty penny. And while a penny is worth more here than in the States, volunteers aren’t paid like diplomats. Ouaga is only about an hour or so from Thyou—there’s a bush taxi that goes direct 6 days a week. Not a raw deal.
The rest of training will be pretty nine-to-five. I’ll be teaching and learning language. Beyond that, occasional drinks with other trainees, a little bit of exercise, occasional nutritional indulgences, and trying to get a tan without sweating cannonballs. My host parents’ house feels like home (I was relieved to return after site visit). Now I’ve accumulated two weeks worth of laundry, which I’ll have the pleasure of washing by hand this Sunday. The felonies I’d commit for a laundromat…
In the next episode of “They Don’t Play Hockey In Burkina Faso,” Jon tells news about how his future students fare, and gives tips for keeping the class brat in line.
Miss you like ice cream, birthday cake, Chinese food, and live rock’n’roll.
-J
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Site Announcement!
Life is good. We received our site placements! At the end of August 2009, I will finish training and leave Ouahigouya to officially live and teach for two years in THYOU, Burkina Faso. 40 km South of the regional capital, Koudougou (less than two hours via bike, and quick by bush taxi), it’s cozily located in the African savannah, and only 13 km from Sabou—a small tourist trap famous for its rampant crocodiles. Thyou is plentifully populated by trees and vegetable gardens—so I’m looking forward to the scenery.
In Thyou, I’ll be teaching at a school of 450 students and 9 teachers. For now, I don’t know exactly what subject. Likely Physics/Chemistry and Math, or maybe Biology/Earth Science. However, I will know next week, when all of us teaching volunteers get to visit our sites! I’ll speak with my future colleagues, get to know the town, hang out with the volunteer I’m replacing, and meet some of my neighbors. Then, we get to spend the weekend in the capital, where Peace Corps Burkina will be feeding us Mexican food. (We’ve been drooling about it for about a month.)
Still trucking with the French. We’ve reached a checkpoint in the language training, and after I get back from my site visit, I’ll start learning some Moore in addition to the French. Model school starts in two weeks—that’s where I’ll start legitimately teaching real things to real students in real French. Wow. I gave a 15 minute lesson yesterday to a few sample students. They answered my questions correctly and kept up with my accent—so I suppose my French isn’t half bad.
The trainees are a tight group. We keep hearing from Ouagadougou how impressed the country desk is with us (nobody’s left yet!), and all the current volunteers are psyched to know their future neighbors. We’re all just a little sad that we’ll have to split up in August, when we go to our sites permanently.
I went to a Burkinabe film called Le Fauteuil (“The Deskchair”) yesterday, with my host parents. It didn’t start till later in the evening, since the theatre is outside and films are best viewed in the dark. Consequently, I found myself dozing off a little. I managed to follow the basic plot, still. Our protagonist is a Burkinabe woman, who is looking for a job. She interviews with a few companies, all run by men, all of whom are looking for a little more than work ethic out of a female employee. She manages to get a job, and quickly usurps the Chair of her company (hence the title). Of course, now all the men are angry and try to foil her, but she leads the company to success despite this, and wins over some of the more amiable male characters in the process. I’ve decided that this film is very forward-thinking and refreshing, considering the views on women’s rights in West Africa, as well as Peace Corps involvement in girl’s empowerment. I’m certain that one could pick these plot points out regardless of language, so don’t jump the gun and get all impressed with me. A good night, nonetheless.
Tonight, a few other teaching volunteers and I are heading out to the village of Bagoya (a short bike ride), to visit with the Girls Education/Empowerment volunteers in our training class. I’ve strapped my tent and sleeping bag to my bike—a month in and I’m finally going to give roughing it a shot. Before I head out, I’ll stop to grab dinner. I’ve heard a lot about a guy on the way there who grills up and sells “chicken in a bag” as the volunteers call it. (Everything here comes in little black grocery bags. These bags function as everything from gift wrap to the packaging for greasy, dripping, onion-and-garlic-covered chicken.) This carnivore is psyched.
Most of the male volunteers here have lost a bit of weight, and I’m no exception, but we’ve been able to find some relatively reliable sources of fatty foods and beer. I have yet to get over my craving for a Cajun chicken sandwich and an irrational amount of chips and salsa from Chili’s, though. The current volunteers (by which I mean non-trainees) all say we gain it back once we get to site, where we’re able to cook for ourselves. My town-to-be is also a prime site for a wide variety of veggies, and being close to Koudougou will give me plenty of opportunity to venture in town for the occasional belly-busting splurge.
That’s all I’ve got for now! Next up, reflection on my visit to Thyou. We’ve been told to limit our picture taking (it’s not vacation and we aren’t tourists—and we certainly don’t want our colleagues or neighbors to think we are), but have patience. I’ll have two years to capture all the shots I could ever want. Crocodiles and everything.
Last but not least, WANT LIST (stuff that would be useful to me if you’re worrying and feel you need to send something):
-Letters!
-candy (craving starburst), other snacks
-pictures/post cards of stuff I can show people from America/Chicago
-powdered drink mix
-Purell, and liquid hand soap
-cheese if it will keep
-books in English
As before, you may send letters and packages to:
Jonathan M. Bressler, PCT
S/c Corps de la Paix
01 B.P. 6031
Ouagadougou 01, Burkina Faso
Miss you all,
Jon
In Thyou, I’ll be teaching at a school of 450 students and 9 teachers. For now, I don’t know exactly what subject. Likely Physics/Chemistry and Math, or maybe Biology/Earth Science. However, I will know next week, when all of us teaching volunteers get to visit our sites! I’ll speak with my future colleagues, get to know the town, hang out with the volunteer I’m replacing, and meet some of my neighbors. Then, we get to spend the weekend in the capital, where Peace Corps Burkina will be feeding us Mexican food. (We’ve been drooling about it for about a month.)
Still trucking with the French. We’ve reached a checkpoint in the language training, and after I get back from my site visit, I’ll start learning some Moore in addition to the French. Model school starts in two weeks—that’s where I’ll start legitimately teaching real things to real students in real French. Wow. I gave a 15 minute lesson yesterday to a few sample students. They answered my questions correctly and kept up with my accent—so I suppose my French isn’t half bad.
The trainees are a tight group. We keep hearing from Ouagadougou how impressed the country desk is with us (nobody’s left yet!), and all the current volunteers are psyched to know their future neighbors. We’re all just a little sad that we’ll have to split up in August, when we go to our sites permanently.
I went to a Burkinabe film called Le Fauteuil (“The Deskchair”) yesterday, with my host parents. It didn’t start till later in the evening, since the theatre is outside and films are best viewed in the dark. Consequently, I found myself dozing off a little. I managed to follow the basic plot, still. Our protagonist is a Burkinabe woman, who is looking for a job. She interviews with a few companies, all run by men, all of whom are looking for a little more than work ethic out of a female employee. She manages to get a job, and quickly usurps the Chair of her company (hence the title). Of course, now all the men are angry and try to foil her, but she leads the company to success despite this, and wins over some of the more amiable male characters in the process. I’ve decided that this film is very forward-thinking and refreshing, considering the views on women’s rights in West Africa, as well as Peace Corps involvement in girl’s empowerment. I’m certain that one could pick these plot points out regardless of language, so don’t jump the gun and get all impressed with me. A good night, nonetheless.
Tonight, a few other teaching volunteers and I are heading out to the village of Bagoya (a short bike ride), to visit with the Girls Education/Empowerment volunteers in our training class. I’ve strapped my tent and sleeping bag to my bike—a month in and I’m finally going to give roughing it a shot. Before I head out, I’ll stop to grab dinner. I’ve heard a lot about a guy on the way there who grills up and sells “chicken in a bag” as the volunteers call it. (Everything here comes in little black grocery bags. These bags function as everything from gift wrap to the packaging for greasy, dripping, onion-and-garlic-covered chicken.) This carnivore is psyched.
Most of the male volunteers here have lost a bit of weight, and I’m no exception, but we’ve been able to find some relatively reliable sources of fatty foods and beer. I have yet to get over my craving for a Cajun chicken sandwich and an irrational amount of chips and salsa from Chili’s, though. The current volunteers (by which I mean non-trainees) all say we gain it back once we get to site, where we’re able to cook for ourselves. My town-to-be is also a prime site for a wide variety of veggies, and being close to Koudougou will give me plenty of opportunity to venture in town for the occasional belly-busting splurge.
That’s all I’ve got for now! Next up, reflection on my visit to Thyou. We’ve been told to limit our picture taking (it’s not vacation and we aren’t tourists—and we certainly don’t want our colleagues or neighbors to think we are), but have patience. I’ll have two years to capture all the shots I could ever want. Crocodiles and everything.
Last but not least, WANT LIST (stuff that would be useful to me if you’re worrying and feel you need to send something):
-Letters!
-candy (craving starburst), other snacks
-pictures/post cards of stuff I can show people from America/Chicago
-powdered drink mix
-Purell, and liquid hand soap
-cheese if it will keep
-books in English
As before, you may send letters and packages to:
Jonathan M. Bressler, PCT
S/c Corps de la Paix
01 B.P. 6031
Ouagadougou 01, Burkina Faso
Miss you all,
Jon
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Three Weeks
Well, now I’m going on three weeks since I left home. I guess that means I should have a lot to tell about. I moved in with my host family a week ago Tuesday, and there’s an internet café right next to the house. Unfortunately, the connection is unreliable, and the keyboard is french (the latter not intended as a pitfall…). Every time I’ve tried to sign on and respond to emails, I’ve been thwarted. So, I decided to dig my laptop out of storage, do my writing on it, and transfer to the web via flash drive.
My host family is great. I have a host dad and a host mom, sans children—although there is a girl who comes by in the morning to help with chores, who is very nice albeit quiet. My host dad plays guitar, and he taught me a song. Awesome. We jam together pretty much every day, excluding yesterday and the day before, because…
DIARRHEA!!
That’s right. They told us it would happen, but I was hoping not to me. I believe the culprit was benga (beans and rice)—the preparation was a little sketchy, and I also used a spoon which I was unclear on the prior whereabouts of. My mistake. The day after eating it, I woke up with a Stanley Cup of a stomach ache, rushed to the latrine, and spat motor oil out my butt for ten minutes. Not a good day for french class. The juice was coming out both ends of my GI tract at once. Big mess. Bad times. So it goes. It’s over now, though, thank god. Only one day. Other volunteers have had it for longer. Empathy is an incredible coping tool.
What else to say? On the trip over, we were supposed to refuel in Niamey, Niger. The plane broke, though, so Air France had to put everyone up in a four star hotel for the night. Pretty cushy introduction.
Food? Mangos here are delicious. There are also some pretty good juices. Lots of Coca-Cola and Fanta. And Guinness, believe it or not, but that’s way too thick for this weather. The local beer, Brakina, is darn good. They eat tons of carbs here. A few volunteers claim nausea caused solely by a diet of pure carbohydrates. Overall, it’s not bad. Much less variety than I’m used to. I’m suffering physical withdrawal from my ice cream, pizza, and chips/dip addictions.
I’ve got a cell phone now. I can receive calls for free, but it’s expensive for you to call me. If you do want to call, get the number from my mom. I’m five hours ahead of Chicago here.
That’s about it. It’s hot here, no doubt, but after getting over diarrhea I’m not complaining about the heat (nor is anyone else). Oh. I watched Michael Jackson’s top videos on VHS today at a friend’s house (it’s retro for the Burkinabé, too).
Vocab:
-For Meghan: C’est vrai, ce mensonge? (French: “Is it true, this lie?”)
-For Katie: Nye, tond toogdame. (Moore: “Yes, we can.”)
-For Paul/Kristen: le sarcasme (Yeah, that’s a hard one.) / bonus round: une barbe (French: “beard”. God knows why it’s feminine…)
-For Lizzy/Senthil, my friends in the food biz: benga (Moore: DIARRHEA)
-For the Clowns: There is a cat at the training center who is very clearly not neutered. We call him Balls. New mascot?
-For the guys: Á votre santé! (French: “Cheers!”)
Hugs and handshakes,
Jon
Monday, June 8, 2009
T minus one: The Last Day
It's my last day in the US, and what place more appropriate to spend it than our Capitol itself, Washington DC?
I'll skip the sightseeing stuff, though. It is HOT here! To think that 3 weekends ago, I was in Minneapolis. Snowflakes floated mid-air, and I invited the idea of chasing a cab for two blocks just to keep myself warm. High in Ouagadougou today: 100 Fahrenheit. I'll arrive on Thursday to a brisk 98. Guess I ought to get used to it.
I hop on the Amtrak tomorrow morning to Philadelphia, where I'll play pincushion for a few vaccines, meet the folks with whom I will spend the next three months, and learn everything left to know about what I've gone and gotten myself into.
The last few months have been incredible. Feeling nostalgic with every person I see and every place I go, I really couldn't ask for a better send-off. In addition to seeing Minneapolis, I got to eat ice cream with my grandparents and uncle in Wisconsin, share it in St. Charles, and try it fried for the first time (never again); eat more meat than humanly rational at a brazilian steakhouse; play my last hockey game, earning my share of goals, assists, and (as is the family tradition) penalties. And I finally did a few things which, in twenty-two years living right outside of Chicago, I had somehow never done--tour the art museum, shadow at Cook County hospital, rock the house at a downtown bar with my own band, and jump out of a plane 13,000 feet above the ground (soon after enjoying a DELICOUS Chicago-style dog from Grumpee's Weiner Wagon).
So THANK YOU to everyone for your wishes and going-away gifts, for taking me out, and for buying me a beer! (On this volunteer stipend, I'm just praying they sell Keystone Light for 50 cents a can in Ouahigouya.) I know already that--while I can probably stand to miss the Starbucks, the traffic lights and all the different varieties of bottled water--I will think on my friends and family with longing and love. Perhaps nobody will miss me more than my wonderful, supportive mother, but I know of a few adorable newborn kittens living under my porch at home who might keep her company if Dad agrees to clean the litter box...
I do not know how often I will have access to internet and email, but email will almost certainly be quicker than post. PLEASE send me news about yourself and your families (JBRESSL2@gmail.com). I will respond as promptly as possible. You may send mail to me if you like. While the postal service in Burkina is kind of slow, it is relatively reliable. If you're sending packages, take them out of their packaging to save space and weight. And don't send anything expensive, as it will likely not make it to me. I will come up with a list of stuff I could really use from Wal-Mart once I'm settled.
My address during training (until late August) will be:
Jonathan M. Bressler, PCT
S/c Corps de la Paix
01 B.P. 6031
Ouagadougou 01, Burkina Faso
I hope you all have a great summer! We'll catch up soon.
I'll skip the sightseeing stuff, though. It is HOT here! To think that 3 weekends ago, I was in Minneapolis. Snowflakes floated mid-air, and I invited the idea of chasing a cab for two blocks just to keep myself warm. High in Ouagadougou today: 100 Fahrenheit. I'll arrive on Thursday to a brisk 98. Guess I ought to get used to it.
I hop on the Amtrak tomorrow morning to Philadelphia, where I'll play pincushion for a few vaccines, meet the folks with whom I will spend the next three months, and learn everything left to know about what I've gone and gotten myself into.
The last few months have been incredible. Feeling nostalgic with every person I see and every place I go, I really couldn't ask for a better send-off. In addition to seeing Minneapolis, I got to eat ice cream with my grandparents and uncle in Wisconsin, share it in St. Charles, and try it fried for the first time (never again); eat more meat than humanly rational at a brazilian steakhouse; play my last hockey game, earning my share of goals, assists, and (as is the family tradition) penalties. And I finally did a few things which, in twenty-two years living right outside of Chicago, I had somehow never done--tour the art museum, shadow at Cook County hospital, rock the house at a downtown bar with my own band, and jump out of a plane 13,000 feet above the ground (soon after enjoying a DELICOUS Chicago-style dog from Grumpee's Weiner Wagon).
So THANK YOU to everyone for your wishes and going-away gifts, for taking me out, and for buying me a beer! (On this volunteer stipend, I'm just praying they sell Keystone Light for 50 cents a can in Ouahigouya.) I know already that--while I can probably stand to miss the Starbucks, the traffic lights and all the different varieties of bottled water--I will think on my friends and family with longing and love. Perhaps nobody will miss me more than my wonderful, supportive mother, but I know of a few adorable newborn kittens living under my porch at home who might keep her company if Dad agrees to clean the litter box...
I do not know how often I will have access to internet and email, but email will almost certainly be quicker than post. PLEASE send me news about yourself and your families (JBRESSL2@gmail.com). I will respond as promptly as possible. You may send mail to me if you like. While the postal service in Burkina is kind of slow, it is relatively reliable. If you're sending packages, take them out of their packaging to save space and weight. And don't send anything expensive, as it will likely not make it to me. I will come up with a list of stuff I could really use from Wal-Mart once I'm settled.
My address during training (until late August) will be:
Jonathan M. Bressler, PCT
S/c Corps de la Paix
01 B.P. 6031
Ouagadougou 01, Burkina Faso
I hope you all have a great summer! We'll catch up soon.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
A little while ago, in a country pretty close to here...
This is my first post. Not much to say here that you probably don't already know.
Cliff notes: I will leave for Burkina Faso--a landlocked country in Western Africa--in June to teach Secondary Education Science. I'll be teaching in French, and probably have to learn a local language or two to get by. For the first three months, I'll live in Ouahigouya with a host family for pre-service training, in which I'll learn everything from how to speak French to how to get out of bed in the morning without the promise of electricity to power my Mr. Coffee machine. In late August, I'll move out of Ouahi--location TBA--to begin teaching.
That's the gist of it. Wish me luck!
Cliff notes: I will leave for Burkina Faso--a landlocked country in Western Africa--in June to teach Secondary Education Science. I'll be teaching in French, and probably have to learn a local language or two to get by. For the first three months, I'll live in Ouahigouya with a host family for pre-service training, in which I'll learn everything from how to speak French to how to get out of bed in the morning without the promise of electricity to power my Mr. Coffee machine. In late August, I'll move out of Ouahi--location TBA--to begin teaching.
That's the gist of it. Wish me luck!
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