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:



Life in Thyou, Burkina Faso, West Africa—you wonder—is like what? Well, it’s 3:45 in the morning. I’m in that country’s capital (Ouagadougou), at the volunteer house for my first visit as a tried-and-true volunteer. I’ve almost forgotten how to work this keyboard. I felt a vague, childish sense of discovery upon entering the bathroom and observing the strange, metal contraption from which water effortlessly falls to aid in my cleanliness. I saw my whole torso in the mirror (month-long beard and all), and said to the man inside, “You should probably change your underwear today.” It’s in the re-exposure to these conveniences that I notice the differences…

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

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 house:

My dog (he figured out pretty quickly how to get on my good side):