Standing Fast

Each time I get online, it becomes harder and harder to write blog posts. Living in Cissela for over one year now, life really has become routine. That said, I'm going to try something new for this post.

September 12, 2013

Tess and I had an excellent day. We set up a booth in my market, amidst the market ladies selling oil, sugar, eggplant, and fried sweet potatoes. The point of the booth was not financial gain, however, it was to educate people about malaria, the number one killer in Guinea. We made a huge banner that said, in French, "I sleep under my mosquito net." My friend Lancine, a senior in high school back au village for vacation, helped us explain to everyone what we were doing in Malinke. We got over 100 people to sign a pledge stating they'd sleep under their mosquito net every night.


In the evening, we went to Moussa's boutique, the one shop in my village. It's also a café, where men sit around smoking cigarettes and drinking Nescafe, and probably engage in other taboo activities after the sun goes down (aka, drinking). We hung up the banner there since it's one of the busiest spots in my village and left Moussa with a marker so people can add signatures. Many grown men added on while we were there! Moussa was excited about having some decoration for his shop, so it was a win-win situation.


September 14, 2013

I’ve always joked around with Hawa about going to help her out in the fields, but this morning I decided to bite the bullet and do it. Once my host family heard I’d actually be accompanying Hawa au champ, they all shouted in protest, saying things in hysteria like “but the field is so far,” “you will bit by insects,” and “it’s too tiring!” I laughed their warnings off – if the Guineans here are able to do it, then I should, too.

At around 9AM Hawa and I walked through the village to another family’s house whose is field is next to ours. Mballou, the mother of this family, would be joining us. We ate a quick breakfast of corn porridge out of a communal bowl (my favorite meal here) and headed off. Walking through the village with Hawa and Mballou, people continuously shouted at me in Malinke, asking if I was really going to help in the fields. Yes, I responded! This always ended in them breaking out in laughter.

Before we could even begin the farming, we had to actually get to their plot, which was a feat in itself. It’s approximately three miles on a dirt path by foot.

We walked…

And walked…

And walked…

And finally arrived at their field, which was beautiful and green with a view of mountains in the distance.

Mballou went off to work in her family’s area, and I went with Hawa to her peanut plot. Today’s work was to weed around the peanut plants, which we did by hand with no gardening gloves, which resulted in my hands looking like this:

Hawa worked barefoot, which I will never understand. While we worked we talked and talked, me with my broken Malinke that really she only understands. I’m so grateful to have her in my life.

Finally, after about four hours of weeding, it was time to go home. I had walked my bike out there with Mballou and Hawa, so I was able to get home quickly, leaving them to slowly trudge back. Once my host family took one look at me they exploded in laughter – I did look like a dirty, sweaty mess, I will admit. But I did seem to gain some level of respect with them – yes, I went, and I actually did the work, thankyouverymuch. I cleaned up in time for Hawa to get home and join me for lunch.

September 28, 2013

Today was the day that Guineans have been awaiting for far too long…Election Day! National legislative elections were supposed to occur after the presidential election in 2010, but they’ve bene pushed back so many times for so many reasons. As Peace Corps volunteers we’ve all been wary of the elctions, because unfortunately in countries like Guinea, they tend to lead to trouble that could get us evacuated. I by no means am an expert on the Guinean political situation, but I will say that there is a lot of tension between parties and that these parties tend to be divided on ethnic lines.

Because Peace Corps is aware that elections can spark problems in country, we have to take many precautions and know our “emergency action plan” – basically, where to go and how to get there if things escalate. From September 14 to October 11, we are on “standfast,” meaning we can’t go further than 10 kilometers from site and we have to communicate our location to Peace Corps everyday.

Everything I saw today indicated that the elections went smoothly. I’ve heard that it was calm across the country, even in Conakry. In my village, there were three polling stations, including my host family’s house. In total, approximately 500 adults voted here. The results are to be announced in 72 hours. Let’s hope that everything remains calm!

September 29, 2013

To avoid sitting around, twiddling my thumbs, and awaiting the election results, today I biked to a neighboring village to visit one of my students and to meet his family. The student is Ibrahime Fofana, one of my best 10^th graders last year who passed the brevet and thus will be headed off to high school in the coming weeks. The bike ride to Somokoro is beautiful, through rice paddies and peanut fields. Once I arrived, I stopped at the cluster of boutiques and cafes in the center of town, where a group of people were sitting around eating breakfast and drinking Nescafe. Everyone stared very confusedly at me, until I greeted them in Malinke and sat down next to them. They relaxed and immediately began chatting me up.  Very quickly word must have spread that a toubabou was in Somokoro, because within minutes Ibrahime appeared in front of me to take me to his family’s compound. Their cluster of huts is incredibly scenic – surrounded by an orchard of mango, cashew, and orange trees. We sat under a mango tree and I met the whole family: Ibrahime’s 65-year-old father who has lived through __ regimes in Guinea’s history (including the French), his mother, aunt and uncle, and many of his siblings.  We ate cassava, drank tea, and chatted. After a few hours, I decided to head back home. The family gave me a giant bag of peanuts and a chicken – yes, a live chicken! I told them I couldn’t accept but they insisted; they said it was so rare for a teacher to travel to meet their student’s family. They wanted to tie the chicken to my bike, which I protested, then they suggested that Ibrahime would drive to Cissela on his motorcycle the coming week. So I guess I’ll have a new pet!

October 4, 2013

Hawa’s baby, Saran, is not well. I’m so worried.

The day before yesterday, she came down with a fever and was refusing to eat. Yesterday she was no better so Hawa, Diama and I took her to our health center. It was very crowded – full of pregnant women and babies coming to get vaccinated. Also, that morning Moussa Kalle, one of the respected elders in our village, was in a serious motorcycle accident; essentially the entire village kept stopping in to check on him. Eventually, the doctor saw Saran. Diagnostics aren’t really possible here – they didn’t even take the baby’s temperature – so he prescribed a whole slew of medicine, including malaria medication and vitamins.

The past 24 hours, Hawa has been trying to give Saran the medication, but she keeps vomiting it all up. Then, this evening, she took a turn for the worse. My entire host family rushed off on motorcycles to the health center, leaving me sitting on the porch alone and freaking out. Eventually they all came back; Saran was asleep but was clearly suffering. We put her tiny self in a giant bed and all uf us ladies sat around in the dark with a flashlight pointed on her, watching her fitful sleep. Tons of people from around the village, upon hearing about Saran’s malady, stopped by to recite blessings and well wishes.

I stayed with the women until 10PM, when Hawa was finally calm enough to step away for a few minutes and eat dinner.  Now I’m in my hut stressing out. I can’t imagine I’ll be sleeping a lot tonight.

October 7, 2013

Oh, I am frustrated! Over the past few days, the Guinean government has announced three different dates for the first day of school. Yes, three: October 3, October 7 (today), and October 21! Confusion ensues, of course. Naturally no one showed up to school today. The elections have added so much confusion this year. Not to mention, Tabaski, a huge holiday, is the 15^th, and many of my students won’t be back in Cissela until after then.

The results of the elections still haven’t been announced. There is a lot of tension/uncertainty right now. The only way for me to get news is through the few text messages Peace Corps sends each day. Currently the government and opposition are in negotiations, trying to come to terms they can both agree upon. Peace Corps suggests that regardless, once all of the results are announced, they will be contentious and there will be unrest, it’s just unclear to what degree. It’s all quite stressful, yet it’s interesting because life in Cissela seems like the elections never happened. No one is talking about them!

I’m really worried about my school this year. One of the teachers quit, so right now we only have three employees: me, my principal, and the chemistry/physics teacher. We’re hoping to get at least one more teacher through the community, but that is difficult because the village has to come up with the money to pay them. The ministry of education has promised to send us more teachers this year but I’m not holding my breath. I’m just hoping school actually starts soon; otherwise there is no way I’m going to get through the curriculum.

In other news, it seems Saran is doing better. A few days ago she still was not improving, so Hawa took her to Kankan to go to a real hospital. They are still not back but I’ve been talking to Hawa a lot and she says Saran is doing a lot better. Phew. At least there’s some good news these days.



It's now October 17, 2013. I'm sitting in Kankan, the first time I'm getting out of Cissela in 5 weeks. Standfast has been called off (there was a question for some time about whether it'd be extended since election results remain unannounced), so I'm taking a weekend break. School still hasn't started, but I'm hoping it will actually begin this coming week. Tabaski, the big holiday where each family sacrifices a sheep or a cow, was this past week. I had a great time -- got all dressed up in Guinean clothes, grilled meat with friends, drank tea, attended the evening village soccer game, and went out at night to the "soirée," where we danced til 2AM. I was blown away by the generosity saw on Tabaski. Many families in my village didn't have the means to buy a sheep to slaughter; my host family paired up with the neighbors to buy one. Within an hour of its butchering, my host father had handed out 95% of the meat to the rest of the village. This is a huge deal, especially because we almost never have meat since it's so expensive.

Me and Diama on Tabaski

Hawa is still here in Kankan; I saw her and Saran today and the baby is doing much better, Dieu merci. I'm going to spend the day with her and our family friend on Saturday and I'll hopefully convince her to come back to Cissela with me on Sunday; to be honest, the past few weeks without her have been incredibly lonely. I always knew that she was a huge part of my village life, but I didn't realize to what extent. First of all, however, I need some serious R&R. In fact, I'm now going to get into bed and watch a movie. And maybe eat some cookies. It's the little things!