A widely accepted fact here in the Peace Corps community is
that the first month at site is potentially the most challenging time for a
volunteer. Well… guess what? I survived! And I even had a little fun. I have so
many stories and rants for this post, so I’ll try to break it up a little.
Installation
One month ago, I sat in a white Peace Corps Land Rover
driving across Guinea, uncomfortably squashed sharing the row with three good
friends, sleep deprived and mentally unstable. We were headed for Kankan, the
regional capital of Haute Guinea, where we’d stop for two nights to meet all of
the regional authorities before being placed at site. My feelings at the time
were mixed: I was ready to move on and actually start my work as a volunteer,
but the thought of being dropped off in my hut and officially being alone made
the pit in my stomach grow larger and larger. It didn’t help that the car ride
was sixteen hours long.
The next day, the nine of us destined to live in Haute went
off to be “presented” to the authorities. Protocol is something that Guineans
cherish – we had an entire two hour session during training on how important it
is – so this formality of being introduced to the head honchos of Haute was not
to be taken lightly. The first office we visited was that of the Gendarmes.
Outside, men in military suits with guns strapped to their belts were lazily
sitting under a tree drinking tea. We were taken inside and seated on oversized
couches, facing a terrifyingly giant man who did not look like he’d ever smiled
before in his life. The “presentations” went a little something like this:
Serima, the Regional Coordinator for Haute, gave a little speech about the
Peace Corps and its cooperation with Guinean authorities, handed over an
official letter signed by the country director, and asked each of us to say our
names. Then the man behind the desk would give his own little speech about how
he and his office was ready to work with us and support us in an capacity. Finally we’d shake hands and leave the
office, then walk or drive to the next presentation. The first one was
definitely the most terrifying – the non-smiling man glared at us, gave us an
unnecessarily long speech about Guinea’s geography and history, and passive
aggressively scolded Serima for not warning him that we were coming. The rest
of the introductions went more smoothly, although there were so many packed
into one morning I couldn’t even begin to list the names or titles of the
people we met. Alas.
That night, we cooked a delicious Mexican dinner as a “last
supper” before installation. The next morning, we packed the cars with ALL of
our stuff (they looked crazy – bicycles, buckets, and stoves on the roof), said
our farewells to those who were being installed separately, and headed off. Four
of us were in the same car; first, we dropped off Morgan, unloading all of her
luggage and saying goodbye. Next was my turn. The road between Morgan’s site
and mine is around two hours on the worst stretch of road in Guinea, which did
not help my nerves in the least. On one hand I wanted so badly to just arrive,
but on the other I dreaded it. Finally, we pulled up in front of my hut, and a
giant crowd of children gathered to watch the spectacle of the white girl
moving into her hut. We quickly moved all of my stuff in, and I was rushed to
say goodbye since we were running behind schedule. I stood outside of my hut
with the crowd of kids waving at Tess and Kayla who drove off into the
distance… and there I was! Alone at last!
The wise current volunteers told us one piece of cherished
advice: after installation, stay busy. That night, and the next day, I
unpacked, rearranged, and cleaned. I’d say I did a good job of averting a
breakdown.
School
Around five days after I got installed, the school year officially
started. “Officially” is a very loose term in these parts. I was warned that I
probably wouldn’t really have to teach until the second week of school, but I
was still utterly shocked when I showed up for the first day and was the ONLY
PERSON THERE. Literally. The principal wasn’t even there (well, to be fair, he
showed up 20 minutes later). Why does this happen, you may ask?
Well…I think it’s a combination of things. First of all, the
Guinean government is not the best at planning and schedules the first day of
school RIGHT in the middle of the harvest. My village is essentially 100
percent farmers (peanut, corn, and rice) and we’re currently at the height of
peanut harvesting. The students at my school help their families out everyday
in the fields. In addition to this, I think there’s just a herd mentality about
showing up to school. I mean, the teachers aren’t even showing up, so why
should the students come? (And vice versa.) In fact, that first day when my
principal finally came, he told me that the other two teachers hadn’t yet
returned from their respective vacations. Sadly, he said it was because they
were waiting on their paychecks from the government that were several months
behind.
The second week of school, students finally started showing
up, but the school was a MESS from four months of being neglected so they spent
the first two days cleaning. Finally, Wednesday of the second week of school, I
started teaching. It still was a bit of a challenge because definitely not all
of the students were showing up, so I had to start slowly and couldn’t jump
into the curriculum. I spent a lot of time talking about my own background and
about Peace Corps, and also going over the rules in my class. Mostly, the
students are pretty adorable. They have to wear these hideous tan uniforms to
school and they’re usually too big or too small on them. Slowly but surely I’m
learning their names (though it’s going to take some time… Guinean names are
just not the same) and now when I bike around my village I always hear shouts
of, “Bonjour, Madame!” Whenever I go to the well or the pump I’m always
intercepted by a student that insists on helping me. I’m not complaining about
that…
The classes themselves are going…okay. I’m teaching English
to all of the grades (7th to 10th) and Biology to 8th,
9th, and 10th. English has been fun because the kids are
really excited about learning it, although sometimes I question why I’m there
when a lot of them can hardly speak French. I’ve really enjoyed teaching
Biology, too, since it’s a change of pace, but it’s been a bit of a guessing
game for me. The national program and the textbook (I have the only copy, the
students don’t have one) don’t line up at all so I’ve kind of been pulling my
lessons out of thin air. The French is also a bit of a challenge because there
is so much new vocabulary for me. The Guinean classroom is just a limited
format since you can’t pass out an exercise or tell students to open their
books to page 104 – you have to write everything essential on the blackboard.
I’m hoping with time I can figure out how to diversify my lessons.
Some days at school have been really discouraging. One
morning this past week I showed up at 8AM (when classes start) and only two
students were there. (I have no idea what it was with that day.) Other days I
let my classes out at noon to find that all of the teachers have given up, let
their students out early, and I’m literally the only person at the school and
everyone else has gone home. We’re already so understaffed that school is from
8AM to noon (and oftentimes there’s a classroom without a teacher), but I think
sometimes teachers just decide they’re not in the mood. Hopefully as the year
goes on things will pick up.
I’m in a Clique
On approximately the third day at site, I was adopted by a
gaggle of Guinean girls. They are in their 20’s, unmarried, and speak French –
SO rare here! Everyday after school I go over to Aminata’s house; she’s a
tailor and her family compound is right by my hut. (Families here live in concessions… basically a compound of
huts and different family members live in each hut.) We drink atayah, which is tea prepared over
coals. It’s extremely concentrated and loaded with sugar and we drink it out of
a communal shot glass. It takes hours and hours to make one teapot of it.
“Taking tea” has been a really good way for me to get to know tons of people in
Cissela, and they’re mostly people around my age, because everyday we’re joined
by different people. I just really need to work on my Malinke so I can really
be a part of their conversations, because even if they speak French they
definitely don’t use it to communicate with other Guineans. I’ve been trying to
study Malinke a good deal but I’ve been so busy…not at all what I was
expecting, since I was told that I’d have way too much free time once I arrived
at site.
Weekend Activities
One of the best parts of service thus far has been the
incredible bike rides I’ve been able to take. My closest volunteer is only 18
kilometers away so I’ve biked to her village nearly every weekend, especially
since she has a HUGE weekly market where I can stock up on cooking and house
supplies. Whenever we meet up we cook delicious, lavish meals. The road between
our villages is beautiful; it’s a dirt road surrounded by rice, peanut, and
cornfields. It’s fairly hilly but a really awesome ride with views of mountains
and a waterfall. Unfortunately I don’t have a camera (though that should change
soon), so I can’t post any pictures quite yet…
I’m currently on my first monthly regional capital visit.
From now on, once a month I get to come into Kankan to stay at the volunteer
house, enjoy all that the city has to offer (and trust me it seems amazing
after a month in village), use the internet, and see other volunteers. I really
can’t believe it’s already been a month in Cissela. Time is moving so much
faster at site than it did during training. I can safely say that despite some
discouraging aspects of site (especially at school), I’m doing really well and
enjoying my time here. I know that most of the difficult things (language
barrier, feeling lonely) will only get easier with time, although the celebrity
status that comes with being a toubab (white person) won’t go away and is
exhausting. Some days I wish I could just leave my hut to go find breakfast and
not talk to ANYONE! But alas.
Getting online has been overwhelming but it’s been great to
be receiving such kind words from everyone. While I’m at site I do have cell
phone service and I will say again that you can text me for free from gmail! It
is always such a pleasant surprise to hear from people when I’m sitting in my
HUT! Here are the instructions again and my number is 68 71 57 14: http://www.google.com/mobile/sms/mail/
A la prochaine fois!
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