Day Two began abruptly at 6am when the town crier (the Chief's personal loudspeaker) stood in front of my house and demanded, on behalf of the Chief, that everyone get their asses to my house as quickly as possible and begin cleaning it up. Don't worry, it gets more awkward. I joined my neighbors and walked to the Anglican church that my school is affiliated with and sat through the three hour mass only to get to the end when it was mentioned not once, but twice, that the village members should be ashamed of themselves for not cleaning my compound prior to my arrival. Luckily this turned from one of the more uncomfortable situations I've ever been in to one of the most unforgettable- roughly twenty-five or so of my new neighbors came to my house after mass and helped me clean the place up. We weeded, hoed, planted, laughed (I also cried on account of my hands bleeding from “manual labor”), and it was a snapshot in my memory that I will cherish for many many years. Later that day, the carpenter brought my bed over and the tailor turned my lappas (forgot to define those last time- basically just really amazingly designed fabric that people have their dressier clothes made out of) into curtains.
That afternoon, I was leaving my house to walk across town when I saw that my other neighbors, who I had yet to meet, were outside in the front and appeared to have guests. I walked over to introduce myself and it turned out that they were the two brothers and two uncles of my neighbor, and they were getting WASTED on palm wine. Palm wine, they informed me, is the adult beverage of choice in the villages of Sierra Leone. It is tapped from the tree, put in a one gallon jug (costing the equivalent of 50 cents per gallon. Uh oh.), continues to ferment in your stomach (double uh oh), and is affectionately referred to as coming directly “from God to man.” They also shared their meal with me and promised to guide me through Freetown whenever I visit. Needless to say, we had a blast. My neighbor returned shortly thereafter and I had a few more cups of wine with him. What? It would have been rude not to. His name is Francis, he works for an NGO called FORUT, and he is a really wonderful guy. His family is equally as warm and have opened their home to me in every was possible.
Due to exhaustion, I'm going to bullet point out the rest of my time in Bauya thus far:
• my house is rapidly becoming a home. I got shelves for the food storage room, a clothes hanging rack (I'm sure there's a better way to say that), and tomorrow should be getting a table to cook on and a small bench and table. I'm focusing on decorating and organizing my room and the living room first, and then moving to the guest room in a few weeks.
• I've been teaching summer school which has been a great thing to keep me mindful of my overarching goal here- not to have a sweet house, but to help educate the children of Bauya and the surrounding villages.
• Until school starts, my days pretty much consist of waking up, exercising, making breakfast, teaching for an hour, working in the garden (oh yeah, I have a garden- flowers, plants, cacti, corn, okra, greens, two mango trees, a banana tree, and a papaya tree), strolling around the village buying anything available to cook the evening meal, greeting everyone in Bauya (literally), reading in my hammock, then cooking dinner (which takes a while).
My routine is coming together and in the constant effort to remain present and not lose my cookies, I'm basically just taking one day at a time. The other crucial part of maintaining my sanity has been my daily communication with other PCV's. It's mostly on the phone, but a lot of us are also taking this time to visit each other's villages, which has been wonderful- we're all keeping a pretty close eye on each other. As you can see, even though I'm immensely happy and in love with my village, I constantly have to work to maintain emotional stability.
One last little story to illustrate how truly wonderful the people of Sierra Leone are. The day we swore in as Peace Corps Volunteers was also our last day in Bo. I was in town doing some last minute shopping when I saw a man walking down the street wearing an LMU (Loyola Marymount University- the college in LA where all of my friends went, my parents went, my grandfather taught, etc.) t-shirt. I stopped him and confused the hell out of him by explaining all of that, but he got the message that I was extremely happy to see that shirt. He asked for my address and told me he would stop by later to give it to me, which was generous of him to even suggest, but that was certainly the last time I thought I would see him. However, to my surprise and elation, he showed up at my house a couple hours later to give me the shirt. I offered to pay him, but he adamantly refused- the only thing he accepted was a different t-shirt of mine from the States. Just to hammer home the level of generosity that Joseph showed, the part of town I originally saw him in was a solid 45 minute walk away from my house. From the unrivaled hospitality of the people to the awe-inspiring flora, this is a truly magical place in which I constantly find myself counting my blessings.
Until next time (which will be a while because the closest internet to me is a few hours away), Peace and Love!
Saturday, August 28, 2010
WAWA (West Africa Wins Again)
In this case, as in so many others, the journey is as fabulous as the destination; however, as far as destinations go, Bauya has unequivocally set itself apart. I'm almost two weeks in and can't reiterate enough how “at home” I am here. I'll do my best to share the highs, lows, and everything in between during the last couple weeks, but as always, my apologies for the cognitive mishmash.
Most PCV's refer to the moment of being dropped off at their site and watching the Peace Corps vehicle drive away as being an unforgettable stomach punch. Tears are often shed and various renditions of “HOLY *@$!” are internally (hopefully) repeated over and over again until the shock recedes (hopefully). My experience was a bit different. Alli, Megan, Andrew (Program Manager- the man with the unimaginable task of placing all of us at our sites), and I were headed from Bo to Moyamba to Bauya. Some of the highlights of that trip included my sweet hand-me-down lappa shorts ripping all the way down the middle as I got into the car, the mildly unpredictable driver stopping to buy bush meat (luckily we weren't hungover to the point of near death and luckily I didn't have the runs and luckily Megan didn't already feel like puking, so this was a totally welcomed detour), listening to Andrew get calls from our fellow PCV's who had problems with their houses and then having the pleasure of him verbally dismantling anyone stupid enough to answer their phone, and last but not least, singing along to the Mamma Mia soundtrack (the newest member of the Things I Had No Idea I Liked Club. Other members include mayonaise, Akon, Spam, ALL sweets, waking up early, and English grammar).
Moving along, we dropped Alli and Megan's stuff off in Moyamba and they joined me for the breathless drive to Bauya. Breathless on account of both the scenery as well as the constant fear that the car will be swallowed by the earth. It's the worst road I've ever seen, but it's apparent to me that the good people of Bauya have simply dug the potholes and crevasses themselves to keep this hidden gem exactly that- hidden. On the way, Andrew proceeded to get a hold of my principal and absolutely shred him for not picking up his calls for the past week. Little did Andrew know this was not the most “hambugd” (vexed, annoyed, generally pissed) that he would be that day. It was raining when we pulled up to my house, and while it wasn't in the best shape, it had a roof and it was mine. Liz, for example, wasn't so lucky, and is still living in a guest house while her village scrambles to find her a house before Big Bad Andrew yanks her out of there. Speaking of Andrew, he proceeded to verbally undress anyone who came to greet me for not having my house cleaned up, etc. Again, not a big deal, but he really made it clear that our comfort is his priority; and believe you me, other than Sierra Leoneans, we haven't seen to many of those types of folks. So while his ranting and raving was, in my opinion, superfluous, it was certainly appreciated.
So we proceeded to unpack my things, my many many things, and I stood on the veranda as the car drove away and the girls waved goodbye. My stomach started to drop a bit, but overall I felt fantastic and lucky to have a project to keep my mind off the potentially-impending anvil of loneliness that may or may not have been ready to drop on my head. So I began organizing MY HOUSE- this meant putting my water filter together, hanging my mosquito net, and assembling my stove. As per Fed, the giver of the once legendary shorts and now a legendary rag, I did what I needed to do to sleep that night. Oh right, and fifteen minutes after they left, the PC car returned to drop the Paramount Chief at my house so as to show him the apparently unsightly state it was in. He unnecessarily apologized and ended up helping me hang my mosquito net, a truly humbling moment for me. So I was moved-in enough for the night and ready to dodge the loneliness anvil by going out and meeting my neighbors. Day 1, check.
Most PCV's refer to the moment of being dropped off at their site and watching the Peace Corps vehicle drive away as being an unforgettable stomach punch. Tears are often shed and various renditions of “HOLY *@$!” are internally (hopefully) repeated over and over again until the shock recedes (hopefully). My experience was a bit different. Alli, Megan, Andrew (Program Manager- the man with the unimaginable task of placing all of us at our sites), and I were headed from Bo to Moyamba to Bauya. Some of the highlights of that trip included my sweet hand-me-down lappa shorts ripping all the way down the middle as I got into the car, the mildly unpredictable driver stopping to buy bush meat (luckily we weren't hungover to the point of near death and luckily I didn't have the runs and luckily Megan didn't already feel like puking, so this was a totally welcomed detour), listening to Andrew get calls from our fellow PCV's who had problems with their houses and then having the pleasure of him verbally dismantling anyone stupid enough to answer their phone, and last but not least, singing along to the Mamma Mia soundtrack (the newest member of the Things I Had No Idea I Liked Club. Other members include mayonaise, Akon, Spam, ALL sweets, waking up early, and English grammar).
Moving along, we dropped Alli and Megan's stuff off in Moyamba and they joined me for the breathless drive to Bauya. Breathless on account of both the scenery as well as the constant fear that the car will be swallowed by the earth. It's the worst road I've ever seen, but it's apparent to me that the good people of Bauya have simply dug the potholes and crevasses themselves to keep this hidden gem exactly that- hidden. On the way, Andrew proceeded to get a hold of my principal and absolutely shred him for not picking up his calls for the past week. Little did Andrew know this was not the most “hambugd” (vexed, annoyed, generally pissed) that he would be that day. It was raining when we pulled up to my house, and while it wasn't in the best shape, it had a roof and it was mine. Liz, for example, wasn't so lucky, and is still living in a guest house while her village scrambles to find her a house before Big Bad Andrew yanks her out of there. Speaking of Andrew, he proceeded to verbally undress anyone who came to greet me for not having my house cleaned up, etc. Again, not a big deal, but he really made it clear that our comfort is his priority; and believe you me, other than Sierra Leoneans, we haven't seen to many of those types of folks. So while his ranting and raving was, in my opinion, superfluous, it was certainly appreciated.
So we proceeded to unpack my things, my many many things, and I stood on the veranda as the car drove away and the girls waved goodbye. My stomach started to drop a bit, but overall I felt fantastic and lucky to have a project to keep my mind off the potentially-impending anvil of loneliness that may or may not have been ready to drop on my head. So I began organizing MY HOUSE- this meant putting my water filter together, hanging my mosquito net, and assembling my stove. As per Fed, the giver of the once legendary shorts and now a legendary rag, I did what I needed to do to sleep that night. Oh right, and fifteen minutes after they left, the PC car returned to drop the Paramount Chief at my house so as to show him the apparently unsightly state it was in. He unnecessarily apologized and ended up helping me hang my mosquito net, a truly humbling moment for me. So I was moved-in enough for the night and ready to dodge the loneliness anvil by going out and meeting my neighbors. Day 1, check.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Jack Bauya
For the third and most exciting report to-date, I'll be predominantly sharing the experience of spending three days in my village. It was a truly significant milestone for many obvious reasons, but I was still surprised at some of the emotions that came up. As usual, bear with me...
My home for the next two years will be Bauya, Sierra Leone. Bauya is a small village in the Moyamba District of the Southern Region, and in Mende (the local language- remind me to come back to that) it translates to...wait for it...“somewhere you get peace and tranquility.” So yeah, it doesn't suck. I've gotten various estimates on the population varying from 1,000 to 2,500, but I spent three days there and saw a few hundred people at most, so I'm thinking their census data is slightly off. It's surrounded by the rainforest, so tons of fruit trees and monkeys are now a part of my daily life. As with most other things here, the plushness of the forest is difficult to describe. “How green is it?” you ask. Bauya is SO green that the word green is green with envy. It's SO green that my first secondary project is going to be writing Webster's Dictionary and having them replace the word “green” with the word “Bauya.” Anyway, the village is a formerly thriving and currently not-so-thriving train depot. It's on the road to Freetown and during the war was absolutely demolished by the rebels. As with everyone else in this country, however, the people are wonderfully hospitable and so very eager to revive their village.
Getting there from Bo was a challenge. Apparently any transportation in this country is a challenge though, so that's something to look forward to. My principal and I arrived at the taxi depot (called a lori park) at 8:15. We sat around until 11:30 waiting for the van to fill up enough to be worth it for the driver. The ride itself was pretty stellar on account of the landscape and only having to pull over once for a blown tire. We arrived in Moyamba at about 2:30 by which time all the taxis had left for the bigger towns, so we waited. Luckily, two of my closest friends here, Alli and Meghan, will be living in Moyamba and had arrived earlier in the day, so I called them. I got a quick tour of Alli's school (picture Oxford, England transported to the middle of Africa- yeah I know, it's hard), had a glorious chuckle over her cornrows, and with that my principal called me and told me that we got a taxi.
The road from Bauya to Moyamba is a combination of unbelievable beauty and potholes. It's like someone went through with a shovel and dug holes in the dirt road to ensure that no vehicle can go faster than 10 mph so as to get maximum enjoyment out of the landscape. It's 9 miles away and takes about an hour, which kinda sucks considering I have no market in my village so I have to go to Moyamba every weekend. Positive side- Meghan's house is baller and I have a bed there already. Getting on with it, I arrived in Bauya around 4ish. We checked out my house which is still being worked on, but it looks so awesome. It's a stand-alone two bedroom house with the kitchen and latrine in the backyard. I have a mango and banana tree in my backyard, as well as okra, beans, corn, kren-kren (leaf used for lots of gross sauces, but at least it's green), and lots of flowers. I have a front porch with plenty of space for a hammock and a small back porch that faces the sunset.
After checking out the new digs, I dropped my stuff off and changed to go meet the paramount chief. There are fourteen chiefdoms in Sierra Leone, each headed by a paramount chief. All decisions regarding the village must be approved by them. ALL. My chief, Chief Banyon, is a really really cool guy. Very well educated, very funny, and so down to earth- I'm very eager to work with him. We also met the town chiefs, section chiefs, the local counselor, and my neighbor, the Cannon (Anglican priest). I'm not entirely clear on their roles, but they all seemed very excited to meet me (I know, obviously right?). That night we had some dinner, some poyo (wine tapped from the palm trees, translated as “from God to man”), and just relaxed. I'm a big fan of their relaxation policy- pro pro pro.
The next day we walked around and met more people, relaxed some more, and discussed my role at the school. You'll be glad to hear that I'm the Vice Principal of St. Peter's Junior Secondary School and slated to generally save the school from caving in on itself. It hasn't had a principal for a number of years, there's only one building, and it sounds like attendance is a joke. The good news is that it doesn't sound like I can screw anything up worse than it already is. The bad news is that I'm clearly not going to be relaxing as much as I'd like to. Freakin Peace Corps. The following day we had a town meeting which about fifteen people showed up to, but it was awesome. Everyone said how excited they were that the Peace Corps is back because not only does it represent progress, but it shows that education is again a priority in Bauya. I absolutely feel that I have the full support of the community and couldn't more welcomed.
So we're back in Bo finishing up the last couple weeks of training. Emotions are running fairly wild, so I'm working pretty hard to stay present. Seeing my village was really intense. It took two and a half years from when I originally applied, but it was worth every second. Now, however, we have to deal with the idea of leaving these thirty-eight people who have bonded over the emotional roller coaster of a lifetime. It's going to be incredibly difficult, but I'm comforted by the idea of being pretty close to three of my closest friends, and in the same region as many other close friends. All that being said, I keep reminding myself what I'm here for-to educate and empower the people of Sierra Leone. Boom shaka laka.
Upcoming events:
• There's a talent show on Wednesday. I'll be singing a duet with Kat which should be juuust precious. I'm also joining one of our trainers, Cisse, singing a folk song from his homeland (Guinea). – update-- songs went well. The great success was Chrissie and I doing a Weekend Update style newscast called PCT Update. Hilarity ensued.
• We head to Freetown on Thursday to get our bank cards and actually check the city out.
• This weekend we'll be shopping and getting ready to leave.
• We swear in as Peace Corps Volunteers this coming Friday.
• We leave for our site a week from this Sunday.
• Whoa.
If there's anything I'm missing, or anyone wants to know, or has a suggestion on how to make this better/more informative, please don't hesitate to email me and let me know your suggestions. Thanks to those of you who have emailed with updates and to say hi (Special shout out to Kimi and Brady- your letters are freakin amazing, and I'm so thankful to have friends like you...love you!). I'm sorry for the lack of response on my end, but it means more than you could know to hear what's going on in your lives. I miss everyone immensely, but I truly am at peace here, and so very home.
Until next time, Peace and Love,
B
My home for the next two years will be Bauya, Sierra Leone. Bauya is a small village in the Moyamba District of the Southern Region, and in Mende (the local language- remind me to come back to that) it translates to...wait for it...“somewhere you get peace and tranquility.” So yeah, it doesn't suck. I've gotten various estimates on the population varying from 1,000 to 2,500, but I spent three days there and saw a few hundred people at most, so I'm thinking their census data is slightly off. It's surrounded by the rainforest, so tons of fruit trees and monkeys are now a part of my daily life. As with most other things here, the plushness of the forest is difficult to describe. “How green is it?” you ask. Bauya is SO green that the word green is green with envy. It's SO green that my first secondary project is going to be writing Webster's Dictionary and having them replace the word “green” with the word “Bauya.” Anyway, the village is a formerly thriving and currently not-so-thriving train depot. It's on the road to Freetown and during the war was absolutely demolished by the rebels. As with everyone else in this country, however, the people are wonderfully hospitable and so very eager to revive their village.
Getting there from Bo was a challenge. Apparently any transportation in this country is a challenge though, so that's something to look forward to. My principal and I arrived at the taxi depot (called a lori park) at 8:15. We sat around until 11:30 waiting for the van to fill up enough to be worth it for the driver. The ride itself was pretty stellar on account of the landscape and only having to pull over once for a blown tire. We arrived in Moyamba at about 2:30 by which time all the taxis had left for the bigger towns, so we waited. Luckily, two of my closest friends here, Alli and Meghan, will be living in Moyamba and had arrived earlier in the day, so I called them. I got a quick tour of Alli's school (picture Oxford, England transported to the middle of Africa- yeah I know, it's hard), had a glorious chuckle over her cornrows, and with that my principal called me and told me that we got a taxi.
The road from Bauya to Moyamba is a combination of unbelievable beauty and potholes. It's like someone went through with a shovel and dug holes in the dirt road to ensure that no vehicle can go faster than 10 mph so as to get maximum enjoyment out of the landscape. It's 9 miles away and takes about an hour, which kinda sucks considering I have no market in my village so I have to go to Moyamba every weekend. Positive side- Meghan's house is baller and I have a bed there already. Getting on with it, I arrived in Bauya around 4ish. We checked out my house which is still being worked on, but it looks so awesome. It's a stand-alone two bedroom house with the kitchen and latrine in the backyard. I have a mango and banana tree in my backyard, as well as okra, beans, corn, kren-kren (leaf used for lots of gross sauces, but at least it's green), and lots of flowers. I have a front porch with plenty of space for a hammock and a small back porch that faces the sunset.
After checking out the new digs, I dropped my stuff off and changed to go meet the paramount chief. There are fourteen chiefdoms in Sierra Leone, each headed by a paramount chief. All decisions regarding the village must be approved by them. ALL. My chief, Chief Banyon, is a really really cool guy. Very well educated, very funny, and so down to earth- I'm very eager to work with him. We also met the town chiefs, section chiefs, the local counselor, and my neighbor, the Cannon (Anglican priest). I'm not entirely clear on their roles, but they all seemed very excited to meet me (I know, obviously right?). That night we had some dinner, some poyo (wine tapped from the palm trees, translated as “from God to man”), and just relaxed. I'm a big fan of their relaxation policy- pro pro pro.
The next day we walked around and met more people, relaxed some more, and discussed my role at the school. You'll be glad to hear that I'm the Vice Principal of St. Peter's Junior Secondary School and slated to generally save the school from caving in on itself. It hasn't had a principal for a number of years, there's only one building, and it sounds like attendance is a joke. The good news is that it doesn't sound like I can screw anything up worse than it already is. The bad news is that I'm clearly not going to be relaxing as much as I'd like to. Freakin Peace Corps. The following day we had a town meeting which about fifteen people showed up to, but it was awesome. Everyone said how excited they were that the Peace Corps is back because not only does it represent progress, but it shows that education is again a priority in Bauya. I absolutely feel that I have the full support of the community and couldn't more welcomed.
So we're back in Bo finishing up the last couple weeks of training. Emotions are running fairly wild, so I'm working pretty hard to stay present. Seeing my village was really intense. It took two and a half years from when I originally applied, but it was worth every second. Now, however, we have to deal with the idea of leaving these thirty-eight people who have bonded over the emotional roller coaster of a lifetime. It's going to be incredibly difficult, but I'm comforted by the idea of being pretty close to three of my closest friends, and in the same region as many other close friends. All that being said, I keep reminding myself what I'm here for-to educate and empower the people of Sierra Leone. Boom shaka laka.
Upcoming events:
• There's a talent show on Wednesday. I'll be singing a duet with Kat which should be juuust precious. I'm also joining one of our trainers, Cisse, singing a folk song from his homeland (Guinea). – update-- songs went well. The great success was Chrissie and I doing a Weekend Update style newscast called PCT Update. Hilarity ensued.
• We head to Freetown on Thursday to get our bank cards and actually check the city out.
• This weekend we'll be shopping and getting ready to leave.
• We swear in as Peace Corps Volunteers this coming Friday.
• We leave for our site a week from this Sunday.
• Whoa.
If there's anything I'm missing, or anyone wants to know, or has a suggestion on how to make this better/more informative, please don't hesitate to email me and let me know your suggestions. Thanks to those of you who have emailed with updates and to say hi (Special shout out to Kimi and Brady- your letters are freakin amazing, and I'm so thankful to have friends like you...love you!). I'm sorry for the lack of response on my end, but it means more than you could know to hear what's going on in your lives. I miss everyone immensely, but I truly am at peace here, and so very home.
Until next time, Peace and Love,
B
Monday, July 12, 2010
Dancing with the Devil
Best day of the journey. Yours truly gave a stellar lesson on the future progressive tense (one month in and I'm a grammar dork). The kids were really engaged and seemed to grasp the material, to boot. I'm currently in a fabulous mood for a variety of reasons, but it should be noted that a main reason is probably that just yesterday I was scraping my way out of a deep dark abyss. I was miserable. I was depressed. I was hungover (more on the 4th later). Turns out the fifth of July is a terrible day for the opening session of summer school, our first live teaching experience without training wheels. But it would be unfair to solely blame the hangover. I felt overwhelmed and under-prepared, and again, just generally down. Apparently this can also be attributed to the malaria meds- good thing I won't have to take them for 2 years. Huh? It's not all rain clouds and mud though, because as low as the lows are, the highs always follow them like a family of ducks.
Tonight I hung out with the fam. I practiced Krio, learned the national anthem, and we laughed at each other. Standard operating procedure. I've been spending a lot of time away from the house on account of being at the training site all day and then hitting the bar across the street at night for lesson planning over a beer, but tonight was an awesome reminder that I need to be home more. A bit of balance is in order...noted.
The everyday encounters with the locals are usually pleasant, occasionally annoying, but more often than not, hilarious. These people just absolutely love to laugh. Usually it's at me, but their laughter is beautifully contagious and always in good taste, so I join in the fun and laugh at me as well. For example, a few days ago my friend, Meghan, showed me some puppies that are right by my house. We went over and introduced ourselves to the family, and they let me name one. We now greet each other daily, as they're on my beat; yesterday, they called me over and the father told me he had a present for me. It was obviously an animal in a make-shift carrier. I asked what it was, and they told me not to worry about it, just to take it. As I got closer and peaked inside, a disgusting giant rat hissed at me and I shrieked like the school girl that I am. They called it a “bush cat” and laughed at me until today. Charming.
A few highlights from the 4th of July and beyond:
Being 1/3 of the most patriotic trio this side of Crawford, Texas. “What's makes an American-African a patriot,” you ask? Well let me tell you- it involves a 3-man mustache race (tragic update below), cut-off jean shorts, and matching red, white (me), and blue shirts, and an American flag visor bought at the local market for $1.
Killing (by decapitation), defeathering, butchering (removing innards and cutting into pieces), and grilling a chicken. I also ate it. That. Just. Happened.
Dance party to follow at the bar across the street that's less a bar and more of an open room with tables, a not-so-shockingly useful random pole in the middle, and of course a shack that sells beer next door. By the end, shirts were missing (they're red, white, and blue, individually, and if you see them let me know), dancing was rampant, and there was a crowd surrounding the room. Call me if you ever want to know what it's like to be a zoo animal in a foreign country.
First week of summer school completed, and boy oh boy did I find my inner disciplinarian. I was really worried about this up to about Tuesday, then I began Operation Ass Kick. Adding the element of discipline to my style of teaching (teaching as performance art- all I had to do to find people who are entertained by me is move to Africa. No problem.) is certainly a work in progress, but I learned a ton this past week and gained much confidence.
Yesterday we went to a cultural fair. Basically it was a mini market day at a smaller village outside of Bo to give us a taste of what we'll be seeing in about a month. I bought a traditional African shirt (35k down to 20k [ 4 to $1] - thank you bargaining classes!) that are USC colors for football season. There were musical performers as well as a devil dressed up in costume. Weird that he picked me to come to the middle and dance with him- needless to say, we had great chemistry and knew each others moves quite well.
*Aforementioned mustache update: I was assaulted by an African barber the other day. Went in for a classic unscrewupable haircut, and came out looking like a skinhead with no mustache. I believe Shakespeare referred to this as a Tragedy.
Wrapping up pretty quickly, I want to give a quick shout-out to the PCV's from Liberia who have come to help train us. Luke and Levi were first, and were absolute God-sends. Having someone say “This is your ass, and that is your elbow” was really clutch. Jesse and Jarod were next. Their advocacy on our behalf was crucial, but two contributions stand out head-and-shoulders above all others- meat sandwiches and Zain facts (Turtles can breathe through their butts. Yeah I know, mind-blowing stuff.) Right now, we have John and Kim. Kim is a dance MACHINE and John is a phenomenal English - teaching resource. He's 95% responsible for these giant steps I'm taking towards becoming a bonafide teacher. Anyway, I hope someone sees this and let's the six of you know (as well as the PCV's yet to come), THANK YOU x INFINITY.
That's all for now, a few highlights I'll be updating on in the next few weeks. First and foremost, we should be finding out our sites (the village we'll be living in) soon. Whoa. In addition, there's a possible outing next weekend, we have the second week of summer school this week, and I'm sure there's some other riveting stuff I don't even know about yet. As always, thanks for reading, and thanks for your thoughts and prayers. They are felt.
Peace and Love,
Surba
Tonight I hung out with the fam. I practiced Krio, learned the national anthem, and we laughed at each other. Standard operating procedure. I've been spending a lot of time away from the house on account of being at the training site all day and then hitting the bar across the street at night for lesson planning over a beer, but tonight was an awesome reminder that I need to be home more. A bit of balance is in order...noted.
The everyday encounters with the locals are usually pleasant, occasionally annoying, but more often than not, hilarious. These people just absolutely love to laugh. Usually it's at me, but their laughter is beautifully contagious and always in good taste, so I join in the fun and laugh at me as well. For example, a few days ago my friend, Meghan, showed me some puppies that are right by my house. We went over and introduced ourselves to the family, and they let me name one. We now greet each other daily, as they're on my beat; yesterday, they called me over and the father told me he had a present for me. It was obviously an animal in a make-shift carrier. I asked what it was, and they told me not to worry about it, just to take it. As I got closer and peaked inside, a disgusting giant rat hissed at me and I shrieked like the school girl that I am. They called it a “bush cat” and laughed at me until today. Charming.
A few highlights from the 4th of July and beyond:
Being 1/3 of the most patriotic trio this side of Crawford, Texas. “What's makes an American-African a patriot,” you ask? Well let me tell you- it involves a 3-man mustache race (tragic update below), cut-off jean shorts, and matching red, white (me), and blue shirts, and an American flag visor bought at the local market for $1.
Killing (by decapitation), defeathering, butchering (removing innards and cutting into pieces), and grilling a chicken. I also ate it. That. Just. Happened.
Dance party to follow at the bar across the street that's less a bar and more of an open room with tables, a not-so-shockingly useful random pole in the middle, and of course a shack that sells beer next door. By the end, shirts were missing (they're red, white, and blue, individually, and if you see them let me know), dancing was rampant, and there was a crowd surrounding the room. Call me if you ever want to know what it's like to be a zoo animal in a foreign country.
First week of summer school completed, and boy oh boy did I find my inner disciplinarian. I was really worried about this up to about Tuesday, then I began Operation Ass Kick. Adding the element of discipline to my style of teaching (teaching as performance art- all I had to do to find people who are entertained by me is move to Africa. No problem.) is certainly a work in progress, but I learned a ton this past week and gained much confidence.
Yesterday we went to a cultural fair. Basically it was a mini market day at a smaller village outside of Bo to give us a taste of what we'll be seeing in about a month. I bought a traditional African shirt (35k down to 20k [ 4 to $1] - thank you bargaining classes!) that are USC colors for football season. There were musical performers as well as a devil dressed up in costume. Weird that he picked me to come to the middle and dance with him- needless to say, we had great chemistry and knew each others moves quite well.
*Aforementioned mustache update: I was assaulted by an African barber the other day. Went in for a classic unscrewupable haircut, and came out looking like a skinhead with no mustache. I believe Shakespeare referred to this as a Tragedy.
Wrapping up pretty quickly, I want to give a quick shout-out to the PCV's from Liberia who have come to help train us. Luke and Levi were first, and were absolute God-sends. Having someone say “This is your ass, and that is your elbow” was really clutch. Jesse and Jarod were next. Their advocacy on our behalf was crucial, but two contributions stand out head-and-shoulders above all others- meat sandwiches and Zain facts (Turtles can breathe through their butts. Yeah I know, mind-blowing stuff.) Right now, we have John and Kim. Kim is a dance MACHINE and John is a phenomenal English - teaching resource. He's 95% responsible for these giant steps I'm taking towards becoming a bonafide teacher. Anyway, I hope someone sees this and let's the six of you know (as well as the PCV's yet to come), THANK YOU x INFINITY.
That's all for now, a few highlights I'll be updating on in the next few weeks. First and foremost, we should be finding out our sites (the village we'll be living in) soon. Whoa. In addition, there's a possible outing next weekend, we have the second week of summer school this week, and I'm sure there's some other riveting stuff I don't even know about yet. As always, thanks for reading, and thanks for your thoughts and prayers. They are felt.
Peace and Love,
Surba
Saturday, June 19, 2010
That. Just. Happened.
Bo, Sierra Leone 19 June 2010
It has been two and a half weeks since I left my home in Los Angeles, California. I seek adventure in the name of service, and this pilgrimage, of sorts, has led me to Sierra Leone, West Africa. Over the next 27 months I will inadequately attempt to convey the sights I have seen, the people I have encountered, and my overall experience. I say inadequately because I constantly find myself struggling to put words to what I have seen and how they have affected me- the English language seems ill-equipped for such descriptions. As I sift through thoughts, emotions, and feelings, I also ask you to bear with me in my constant endeavor to remain present and unswayed by the aforementioned gnats swirling around my head (Read here- things could get random). One last note regarding the frequency of these posts- due to the uncertainty of electricity, let alone internet accessibility, the inconsistency of updates will be a theme. All that being said, this is my brain. This is my brain on West Africa...
We arrived in Washington D.C. on June 1, 2010. Thirty-nine strangers gathering to break the ice (drinking at a piano bar), shake some hands (event with PC higher-ups, returned volunteers, and the Sierra Leonean Ambassador...I think), and get a few tips on how to survive in the wild (don't drink the water, use the buddy system, etc.). It's amazing how quickly people let each other into their worlds when they're seeking comfort, familiarity, and family. Needless to say, we bonded. So we got some shots and departed for Freetown, arriving the following day. The landscape was a bit different than I expected to see in this part of the world- simply put, it was green, not brown. Stunningly green, as far as the eye could see, with the ocean carving into the land, abusing its majority. We were greeted on the tarmac by the Country Directors, as well as PC staff and a camera man from the local news station, and whisked through customs. A ferry was waiting to take us to Freetown where we would be for six days. A few highlights:
Being put up at the hotel at the National Stadium (although it wasn't quite as plush as one would think)
Attending a cocktail party at the Deputy Chief of Mission and Charge d Affaires' home (acting U.S. Ambassador, and much closer to plush)
Being honored in the Presentation Hall (seats about 60 at the most) at the State House by Minister of Education, Sports and Youth, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, the Vice President, and President Koroma (plush plush plush)
The following Tuesday we traveled to Bo, SL's second largest city, by bus. As we were told, the greeting in SL is a crucial part of interpersonal communication. If you fail to greet someone, they will probably be offended. Upon giving a greeting, however, you are accosted by the warmest smile you've ever seen and a genuine interest in how your day is going (Aw di day?), how you're feeling (Aw yu bodi? [How's the body?]) and a hope that you will run into each other again soon (Wi go see bak). Krio, the linga franca, or unofficial national language that everyone speaks, is incredibly phonetic and intuitive. But I digress. We arrived to the cheers of children and a welcome celebration including a medicine man pulling roughly 10 miles of string out of his mouth, dancers, and musicians. You know those cool Africa pictures you see on FaceBook where a white guy is surrounded by a bunch of happy beautiful kids smiling and loving them. Turns out that actually happens. So we went inside and the celebration continued with our meeting of the host families.
My new mother Mrs. Makiu, and my new brother, Charles, were there to pick me up and take me home. Charles is one of five boys living at the house, joining the four girls. All are in school, and all speak various levels of English. They take their studies very seriously. Auntie Christiana is the co-matriarch and an incredibly wise woman. The family has taken me in and put up with my constant ignorance of not only African culture and customs, but the every day tasks that machines and others have done for me my entire life. It is humbling, to say the least. However, I have already been fetching water from the well, done my laundry by hand (with help, of course), and tomorrow I cook dinner for the family. We will be eating groundnut stew and rice, a local favorite. I could not have gotten any luckier with the people who have taken me in. I am blessed to have a bathroom in my spacious room, electricity (FAN!), and amenities most of my colleagues left in the States two and a half weeks ago. What I am most thankful for though is hardly the material goods that have eased my transition, but their warmth, kindness, and eagerness to both teach and learn. I truly enjoy their company.
The people of this country are some of the most kind, gentle, hilarious, and graceful people I have ever encountered. I ask you to spread the word that Sierra Leone is not only safe, but beautiful, welcoming, and eager to share these wonderful attributes with anyone who comes here. We stay in Bo for roughly seven more weeks, and then off to our sites. I will do my best to update this soon. Be well, spread peace and love, and rest soundly knowing that for the next 26 months, I am home.
It has been two and a half weeks since I left my home in Los Angeles, California. I seek adventure in the name of service, and this pilgrimage, of sorts, has led me to Sierra Leone, West Africa. Over the next 27 months I will inadequately attempt to convey the sights I have seen, the people I have encountered, and my overall experience. I say inadequately because I constantly find myself struggling to put words to what I have seen and how they have affected me- the English language seems ill-equipped for such descriptions. As I sift through thoughts, emotions, and feelings, I also ask you to bear with me in my constant endeavor to remain present and unswayed by the aforementioned gnats swirling around my head (Read here- things could get random). One last note regarding the frequency of these posts- due to the uncertainty of electricity, let alone internet accessibility, the inconsistency of updates will be a theme. All that being said, this is my brain. This is my brain on West Africa...
We arrived in Washington D.C. on June 1, 2010. Thirty-nine strangers gathering to break the ice (drinking at a piano bar), shake some hands (event with PC higher-ups, returned volunteers, and the Sierra Leonean Ambassador...I think), and get a few tips on how to survive in the wild (don't drink the water, use the buddy system, etc.). It's amazing how quickly people let each other into their worlds when they're seeking comfort, familiarity, and family. Needless to say, we bonded. So we got some shots and departed for Freetown, arriving the following day. The landscape was a bit different than I expected to see in this part of the world- simply put, it was green, not brown. Stunningly green, as far as the eye could see, with the ocean carving into the land, abusing its majority. We were greeted on the tarmac by the Country Directors, as well as PC staff and a camera man from the local news station, and whisked through customs. A ferry was waiting to take us to Freetown where we would be for six days. A few highlights:
Being put up at the hotel at the National Stadium (although it wasn't quite as plush as one would think)
Attending a cocktail party at the Deputy Chief of Mission and Charge d Affaires' home (acting U.S. Ambassador, and much closer to plush)
Being honored in the Presentation Hall (seats about 60 at the most) at the State House by Minister of Education, Sports and Youth, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, the Vice President, and President Koroma (plush plush plush)
The following Tuesday we traveled to Bo, SL's second largest city, by bus. As we were told, the greeting in SL is a crucial part of interpersonal communication. If you fail to greet someone, they will probably be offended. Upon giving a greeting, however, you are accosted by the warmest smile you've ever seen and a genuine interest in how your day is going (Aw di day?), how you're feeling (Aw yu bodi? [How's the body?]) and a hope that you will run into each other again soon (Wi go see bak). Krio, the linga franca, or unofficial national language that everyone speaks, is incredibly phonetic and intuitive. But I digress. We arrived to the cheers of children and a welcome celebration including a medicine man pulling roughly 10 miles of string out of his mouth, dancers, and musicians. You know those cool Africa pictures you see on FaceBook where a white guy is surrounded by a bunch of happy beautiful kids smiling and loving them. Turns out that actually happens. So we went inside and the celebration continued with our meeting of the host families.
My new mother Mrs. Makiu, and my new brother, Charles, were there to pick me up and take me home. Charles is one of five boys living at the house, joining the four girls. All are in school, and all speak various levels of English. They take their studies very seriously. Auntie Christiana is the co-matriarch and an incredibly wise woman. The family has taken me in and put up with my constant ignorance of not only African culture and customs, but the every day tasks that machines and others have done for me my entire life. It is humbling, to say the least. However, I have already been fetching water from the well, done my laundry by hand (with help, of course), and tomorrow I cook dinner for the family. We will be eating groundnut stew and rice, a local favorite. I could not have gotten any luckier with the people who have taken me in. I am blessed to have a bathroom in my spacious room, electricity (FAN!), and amenities most of my colleagues left in the States two and a half weeks ago. What I am most thankful for though is hardly the material goods that have eased my transition, but their warmth, kindness, and eagerness to both teach and learn. I truly enjoy their company.
The people of this country are some of the most kind, gentle, hilarious, and graceful people I have ever encountered. I ask you to spread the word that Sierra Leone is not only safe, but beautiful, welcoming, and eager to share these wonderful attributes with anyone who comes here. We stay in Bo for roughly seven more weeks, and then off to our sites. I will do my best to update this soon. Be well, spread peace and love, and rest soundly knowing that for the next 26 months, I am home.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)