Monday, August 27, 2012

Mariame Sylla? No, Mariame Cissé


OH boy. Do I have a lot to update or what?

On August 15th we finally got a break from our regular training routine, not to mention a break from Dubreka. We began by traveling to Mamou, a town approximately five hours east of here in the Fouta region. The Fouta is strikingly different from Basse Cote (where Dubreka is located) – it is much more mountainous, less humid, and actually fairly cool (long sleeve shirts at night)! We stayed at ENATEF, a forestry school, in dormitory-style rooms. The purpose of our three nights in Mamou was to have a Peace Corps-run workshop with our future supervisors, meaning the principals of the middle and high schools where we’ll be working come October.

When we got off the bus in Mamou we were informed that some of our supervisors had already arrived. I scrambled to get changed into nicer clothes – I needed to look presentable to meet my future boss – and nervously went outside to find him. Everything that I had been told about supervisor workshop indicated that this first introduction is typically really awkward. One of the Peace Corps trainers found me and introduced me to the principal of my middle school, Moussa Konate. Sure, our first conversation was a little awkward, but not nearly as bad as I had feared. I introduced myself, expressed how excited I was to finally visit Cissela, and how much I’m looking forward to working in his school. He told me that they were very happy to have another Peace Corps volunteer and that Cissela has had three others in the past, three male math and physics teachers.

The next two days were spent in sessions for the workshop. Most of the information provided was intended more for our supervisors than for us (history and mission of the Peace Corps, the principal’s roles and responsibilities towards the volunteer, the volunteer’s responsibilities, etc). It was a lot of sitting through French being spoken at us, but it’s important to have the volunteers present so that we’re all on the same page. In my opinion, the most useful session was an hour of one-on-one discussion time with the supervisor. I was able to get a lot of information, mostly about my town and my school. I’m lucky because my school is super tiny – class size is about thirty students, which is almost unheard of in Guinea. There are only three teachers, the principal included, four including me. When Monsieur Konate heard that I studied Biology in college his eyes lit up, as his school desperately needs a Biology teacher. I told him I’d be happy to try, so it looks like I’ll be teaching both Biology and English. I’m hoping that Peace Corps can help me get my hands on some materials, namely the curriculum and some additional resources since I’ll be teaching bio in French…

After our three nights in Mamou, it was finally time to go visit site! I was a combination of nervous and excited – previous volunteers had told me that site visit isn’t the easiest, but that it gives a really important impression that your village will have of you for the next two years. To get to Cissela, I had my first experience in a bush taxi. Oh boy… those things are CROWDED. The majority of them are old hatch-back Renaults, painted yellow and with zero suspension. They have three rows, one with a passenger seat and the driver, the middle intended for three to sit, and the back for two. Well… in Guinea we like to keep it cozy, so two sit in the front passenger seat, four in the middle row, and three in the back. Since a number of us were headed to Haute, four volunteers and five supervisors crammed into my taxi. The ride to from Mamou to Cissela is BUMPY. Despite being the national highway, the road has not been maintained, so it is scattered with deep potholes. Looking out the window, I could tell that Haute looks markedly different from both the Fouta and Basse Cote. It’s less mountainous, less green (though still fairly lush – it is the rainy season), and the majority of homes are one-room round huts with thatched roofs (in the rest of the country, most people live in concrete houses).  

Five hours later, the driver pulled over and my supervisor told me that we had arrived! I got out of the car, said goodbye to my fellow trainees, and was finally the lone American in my village. We first stopped by Monsieur Konate’s hut, where I sat for a moment and collected myself. We then went and greeted the president of the APAE, the Guinean version of a PTA. My supervisor explained that my home is a bit over a mile off of the main paved road in the center of the village, so he found someone to drive my luggage and me. As we drove through I got more and more excited – Cissela is such an idyllic African village, and everything I had imagined when I applied for Peace Corps. Finally we pulled in front of my HUT! It’s exactly what it sounds like – a small, round room with a thatched roof. There are two doors, one that opens up into the rest of my compound and one that opens to my own, private backyard. The yard is an excellent aspect – it’s pretty tiny but it’s walled in and no one can see me, which is a level of privacy that is rare here. My bathroom is an outdoor latrine behind the yard. My hut is in the compound with the village chief, which is from my understanding a good thing. His family is really, really nice, but he’s the only one that speaks French, so I really need to work on my Malinke.

After we dropped my stuff off, it was time to greet the who’s who in Cissela. I was exhausted and overwhelmed, but had to remain composed and polite. I met the mayor, the commissariat, the village sage, the sous prefet, the head of the youth league, and the imam, among others. It was a bit awkward; I met the imam at a funeral, and he gave me a large benediction in front of all of the attendees. By the end of the afternoon I had met so many people my head was swimming, so I went back to my hut to rest before dinner. The sous prefet (a government-appointed leader of the district) invited me to dine at his house. I had a lovely time with him and his family; his wife is extremely sweet and his children adorable. I went home and slept soundly through night one in my hut!

The next day was the Fete du Ramadan – the big celebration at the end of thirty days of fasting. Everyone was all dressed up and out and about. I spent the day with both my host family and my principal. In the evening we went to a big soccer game in the village, where the announcer presented me multiple times over loudspeaker, which was a little embarrassing.

Site visit was five nights long. It was probably the hardest thing I’ve done so far in Guinea, but I know that all of the difficulties are things that will improve with time. Speaking minimal Malinke is definitely a challenge, since very few people (and essentially no women) are literate thus my communication is limited, which gets a little lonely. I just felt a little bit like a fish out of water for the five days, but once the village gets used to me and I meet more people I’ll feel more at home. My community is small, only about 800 people, so I’ll have the opportunity to get to know essentially all of the families over two years. Incredibly enough, I have cell phone service in my tiny village! Even more incredible is that my village gets electricity for four hours each evening, and they are going to set it up in my hut! Being able to turn on a light and charge my phone are little things that I do not take for granted in this country…

I was fed incessantly during site visit. My principal, host family, and the sous prefet would each feed me for the same meal, so it got to be a bit much by the end, but it was nice to feel cared for! Also, everyone I met told me that I’ll need to change my last name from “Sylla” to “Cissé” once I move there… quite literally everyone from Cissela has the last name Cissé, thus I must adopt it, too. So, call me Mariame Cissé!

My last day in Cissela, Tess, my closest volunteer (18 kilometers away) came to stay with me, since the next day we would travel to Kankan together. Having her there to see my village, meet my host family, eat with the sous prefet, and to just hang out in my backyard listening to music was revitalizing. It also made me realize that I do love my village already and that it’s fun to show other people around. We also discussed ideas to make our huts homier. I have big plans!

We left Cissela on Thursday for Kankan, our regional capital. A group of current volunteers that have already been here for some time arranged a taxi to stop in my town to pick us up on the way to Kankan, which was nice because otherwise I would have been completely clueless as to how to get there! Our two nights in the regional house were lovely. The house is really nice, equipped with a kitchen, big living room with tons of books to be borrowed, bedrooms with bunk beds, bathrooms with running water (first time I’d seen that in eight weeks), and a computer room (internet)! Once I’m a real volunteer, I’ll be able to stay at the house for one weekend a month. It sounds like it’s pretty nice (and necessary) to maintain your sanity. Nearly all of the current volunteers in the region were there for the weekend (around 27 of us including the nine from our group), so we were pretty packed in, but it was a good time. The current volunteers cooked lavish meals for us that we devoured like we hadn’t eaten in decades: pasta with homemade sauce, green beans, garlic bread, French toast, homefries, scrambled eggs… it was heaven. We had a toga dance party on the roof one night, and spent a lot of time relaxing, walking around Kankan, and eating soft serve ICE CREAM… the flavor is a little odd, but I’m not complaining. I had it three times in two days.
On Saturday the nine Haute trainees headed back to Dubreka. I wish I could explain what the journey was like, but I don’t think words would do it justice. I’ll leave it at this: we left at 5:30AM and got to Dubreka at 9:30PM. The roads are bumpy, we were crowded and sleep deprived, and we hardly stopped for food save for some Pringles at a gas station in Mamou. It was… intense, but we certainly bonded a LOT.  And at least we are alive; road travel in Guinea is definitely the most dangerous aspect of my time here.

Arriving back in Dubreka was lovely. I didn’t realize how much it feels like home here until I was away from it. My host family was adorable and so excited when I got back. It’s been great to see the other trainees and hear all about their crazy and diverse experiences during site visit. I’m definitely looking forward to training coming to a close and to beginning my actual Peace Corps service, but I imagine leaving Dubreka is going to be pretty difficult.

Three more weeks of real training! This week is practice school, so we finally get to teach real, full classes. I’m so very excited, and I think time is going to go much more quickly! Less than a month til I’m a real Peace Corps Volunteer!

P.S. THANK YOU so much to those who have sent letters and packages. Words cannot express how good it feels to receive them, even if they take forever to get here. And friends… if you haven’t written me yet,  you should :) … my address is posted at the top of this blog!

Monday, August 6, 2012

News!


Site Announcement
Finally came the day we had all been waiting for: site announcements. We spent the week prior in individual interviews with Dioulde, our Program Manager (a.k.a. my future boss after I swear in as a volunteer in September). During the interviews we were able to give preferences for our sites: how large or small the location, proximity to other volunteers, region, etc. It was odd being asked for a preference because throughout the entire Peace Corps application process you are told to not give any preferences for your country and to be as flexible as possible, yet all of a sudden we actually had a say! It was a novel feeling.

The announcements occurred during the last period of the training day. We all gathered under a small pagoda on the Peace Corps compound, where the trainers had drawn a remarkably detailed map of Guinea on the ground in chalk, with green dots representing the future sites for G22. Needless to say we were all very nervous, and of course the trainers decided to build up the suspense even more by making the announcement into a bit of a guessing game. Dioulde wrote little limericks about each of us; when he read them off we had to guess who it was and when we got that right he would finally reveal the site. It was nerve-wracking to say the least.

So… where am I going to live for the next two years? A village called Cissela, Guinea! Does that mean anything to you? Me neither!
But really… I’ve been able to figure some things out about the site. It’s in the Haute region of Guinea, which is the one closest to Mali. They speak Malinke, a language related to Bambara (Mali’s language), which is really exciting for me since I already know some! The town is right near a major road, which is good news since it means that transportation to the regional capital (Kankan) won’t be too bad. I’ll be teaching middle school – a bit of a surprise because our training has been mostly geared toward teaching high school English, but I’ll make it work. In terms of my living arrangement, I’m not really sure. The paperwork I got seemed to say that I’d be living in a one-room hut (not a problem for me since that’s what I was expecting). One of the biggest perks of my site is that I have two volunteers pretty close to me – one 18 kilometers and one 24 kilometers away – not too bad considering I have a mountain bike! One is in my group and the other in G21, so she’s been here since November. The G21-er, Stacy, is super awesome and sent me a package filled with goodies as a welcome gift!

It’s definitely nice to know where I’ll be living for the next two years but the announcement was also a little bittersweet since it finally dawned on our group how far we will be from each other. Peace Corps is a weird set-up since you spend so much condensed time with your training class and then all of a sudden, eleven weeks in, you’re dispersed throughout the country, really far from some of your closest friends. I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. The good news is that I finally get to start local language classes!

Climbing “le Chien qui Fume”
Last weekend a group of us decided once and for all to climb to the top of the mountain overlooking Dubreka, “le Chien qui Fume,” or “the Smoking Dog.” One volunteer had three host brothers who had climbed the mountain before and were willing to guide us to the top, which was really great because there is no way we could have done it without them.

The day began slowly, as things always do in Guinea – we had planned to meet at 7AM to head to the mountain, but in reality it wasn’t until around 8:30 that we piled into the taxi to take us to the base of the mountain. We were eight total who decided to brave the hike, including our three Guinean guides.

Well, little did we know that the hike is typically done in the dry season, not in the height of the rainy season (aka now). The base of the trail was completely blocked by a not-so-small river with quite a current. Needless to say we were all disappointed by the idea that we couldn’t even make it to the trailhead let alone to the top of the mountain, but our guides weren’t going to let that happen. Over the next hour, they found a part of the river that was slightly shallower, and rigged a giant branch across it. With the branch we were able to tug-of-war ourselves across as we waded through. Probably not the safest thing, and a little scary (the water was waist-deep for me), but we all made it unharmed! So, 10:30 rolled around and we were finally at the base of the trail. The hike was incredibly beautiful. It began fairly steep, through some rice fields. Pretty far up we found a family of rice farmers’ encampment. Everything was incredibly green and overgrown; at some points we didn’t even know if we were following the trail except for the occasional litter we could find, like our own Hansel and Gretel. As we reached a certain altitude we were completely in the clouds, which is a really weird feeling when you’re trying to figure out how high you are, much like being in an airplane.

The mountain is shaped a bit like a rectangle, so the summit is long and flat. We reached the top on one side and walked across the summit to the other end since that’s the corner that overlooks the town of Dubreka. When we got there, we sat down to rest and have some snacks (although not our guides, who are fasting for Ramadan, which makes their strength even more unbelievable). We were still in the clouds and couldn’t see the view, which was a bit of a disappointment, but all of a sudden there was a break in the clouds and you could immediately see everything. It was amazing, not to mention a little chilly, which is a rarity here! We stayed at the summit for some time before heading down. The descent went smoothly, as did re-traversing the river. Unfortunately, we couldn’t get a taxi at the base of the mountain so we had to walk another thirty minutes to the market, but it wasn’t too bad. Overall it was such a great day!



...Those are all of the updates I have time for now. Training keeps on keeping on. The days are long and exhausting, but practice school starts soon so I get to actually teach some Guinean students, which is both exciting and terrifying. I'll be visiting my site for a week in 10 days as well so I'll have a better idea of what my future home is like! Updates will come after that. A plus tard!

p.s. for those of you that want to text me via gmail... here is how: http://www.google.com/mobile/sms/mail/