Whirlwind

It was just yesterday that I received the message. I’d been teaching a review math class for my students going into 10^th grade since I won’t be there to teach them next year and the presence or absence of a replacement teacher remains a giant question mark. When class was over, I immediately noticed several text messages and missed calls, the first one from PC CD (Peace Corps Country Director), which read something along the lines of: “Due to Ebola, PCG has decided to remove all V/Ts from Guinea as a precautionary measure. See email for details.” For those of you who don’t speak Peace Corps, PCG means Peace Corps Guinea and V/Ts means Volunteers and Trainees. The moment I read the message, it was like I’d been punched in the stomach.

Let me give a little background. If you follow the news, I’m sure you’ve heard of the Ebola outbreak that began in Guinea this past April. I distinctly remember cooking my dinner by candlelight, listening to the BBC headlines on my shortwave radio, and dropping my spoon when the words “Guinea” and “Ebola” were used in the same sentence.

The days following confirmation that the hemorrhagic fever popping up in Guinea’s forest region was in fact the dreaded Ebola, I was sure we’d be evacuated. I was terrified to eat with my host family or to get into a shared taxi as we learned of Ebola’s transmission out of the forest region and into the country’s capital, Conakry. However, the facts quickly quelled my fears. The truth: it’s actually not very easy to catch Ebola. One has to be in close contact with the bodily fluids of the ill or recently deceased in order for it to be transmitted from person to person. Ebola is not transmissible if the person is not yet displaying symptoms, and when the person actually gets sick, their symptoms cause them to be bedridden. Patient zero probably contracted it by eating undercooked bush meat, such as monkey or bat. So basically, to avoid Ebola, one should avoid the gravely ill, recently deceased, and not eat monkey. Sounds clear enough.

The people in my village were freaked out when they heard about Ebola, especially because of its lack of treatment and gruesome way of liquefying its victim’s organs. This actually wasn’t a bad thing. A lot more people started washing their hands with soap, and my principal found money for us to install “tippy-taps,” the closest thing you can get to a faucet without running water, at my school. Orange, the largest phone service provider in Guinea, sent out PSAs to all of its clients, dispelling myths about the illness (and trust me, there were a lot). Things seemed like they might actually clear up. And they started to, but not for long.

A combination of mismanagement and skepticism from locals has made it incredibly hard to control this outbreak of Ebola. Over the months, the death toll has continued rising and the disease has spread to three other countries: Sierra Leone, Liberia, and now Nigeria. Peace Corps continually gives us updates on where the outbreaks are concentrated in Guinea (mostly in the forest region, where there are no PCVs), reminds us of the things we should do to avoid it, and tells us we can leave site and go to our regional capital if we feel uncomfortable. We were assured that the odds of Ebola leading to an evacuation were slim to none.

Which is why this text message seemed so incredibly out of the blue. Earlier that day, I’d spoken to multiple PCVs about future projects we were planning, I’d given my students math homework for Saturday, and I’d planned to bike to a neighboring volunteer’s site the next day. There was no way on earth we’d be leaving, and so suddenly. But we are.

This past week, two PCVs in Liberia were exposed to Ebola, and while neither of them is displaying symptoms, Peace Corps needs to do something. I understand that. All PCVs in Liberia, Sierra Leone, and Guinea are being “temporarily evacuated.”

My hut is packed up, I’ve informed those dear to me in Cissela, and a Peace Corps car is coming to pick me up tomorrow morning. PC has purchased us roundtrip tickets departing in the coming days and returning to Guinea in the beginning of September in the hopes that the situation will be tame enough by then that we can return to our work. I have no idea what to expect, all I know is that being torn away from this place I’ve learned to call my home over the past two years with so many unknowns is one of the hardest things I’ve ever been through. After all of the unrest surrounding with elections, the month we were on lockdown at site and not allowed to go further than a 5-mile radius, it’s Ebola that’s sending us home.

So, let’s hope that both the Guinean government and foreign bodies helping out (namely Doctors Without Borders and the CDC) are able to control this outbreak in the coming weeks. Let’s hope, not only for the 102 PCV/Ts being sent home, but also for the 102 communities that will have a hole in their schools/health centers/youth centers, and the population of Guinea that is not only at risk of Ebola, but also lacks information, running water, and basic hygienic infrastructure.

Guinea, despite being hot, uncomfortable, and trying, has a way of sneaking its way into your heart. Regardless of what happens, I am so lucky that I got to spend 25 spectacular months here. As for the United States… see you in the next few days!

The end. (Not exactly)

Close of service (COS) is quickly approaching. My stage, or rather the 19 of us who remain, traveled to Kamsar, a city several hours north of Conakry for our COS Conference. We spent 3 days discussing readjustment to the U.S., logistics of how to schedule our flights, health insurance, etc. We also did a lot of reflecting on and digesting everything we've experienced over the past two years. In so many ways our experiences overlap, but we all have such unique stories and relationships that it's interesting to compare notes. I can imagine it would be very confusing for a non-Peace Corps Guinea person as a fly on the wall, as we've sort of developed our own PCV language.

Regardless, this conference was a little odd and inapplicable to me, because...................................
I've decided to extend for a third year!!!!!!!!!! I know I've mentioned that I was considering it to a number of friends back home but it's now official. In a few months I will be moving to my regional capital, Kankan, and working with an organization that promotes gender equity as the "Peace Corps Volunteer Leader for Gender Equity and Women's Empowerment" (yes, it's a mouthful). This means in addition to the work I'll be doing in Kankan with the women's association, I will also be working for Peace Corps Guinea, developing resources and trainings on issues of gender. I'm really excited; the situation for females in Guinea has truly been one of the most troubling aspects of my time here and I am looking forward to devoting an entire year to the cause. Peace Corps is flying me home for the month of September so I can take a little break and visit friends and family. It's a little crazy to me that today is my two year anniversary with Peace Corps!

The past few months have been very busy: first, the end of school (my students just took the Brevet, the high school entrance exam, this past week). The end was bittersweet; I had been so fed up with my 10th grade class for so long that I was more than happy to say goodbye to them. However, my 9th graders, who work hard and are fun to be around, were upset over the fact that I won't be with them next year. Once I get back to Cissela (I am currently in Conakry), I am planning on holding summer math classes for the incoming 10th graders, as it's unclear if there will be a math teacher next year. After saying goodbye to my students, I headed to Kamsar for our COS Conference. It was really important to me to be with my stage all together one last time, so I'm happy it happened. We ate great food, watched the first game of the World Cup in air conditioned luxury, and swam in a pretty dirty pool.

The day after COS Conference, two other volunteers and I had to hurry back to our villages to go pick up students selected to attend a science camp. The travel was filled with typical mishaps: a crappy car with an even crappier driver, an epic rainstorm with barely functional windshield wipers as we drove through the mountains, and 3 flat tires within one half-mile span (ok, that one is not typical and I have no idea how that happened). After spending 2 days traveling all the way back to site, I spent about 15 hours there only to turn back around and head to Mamou for science camp with two of the smartest 7th and 8th graders from Cissela. Science camp was awesome; it was organized by a couple of Physics teacher PCVs. We ran two experiments a day for five weeks, all completely hands on (building an electrolyser, the dissection of a chicken, learning how to use a microscope, among others), and also had tons of camp-like activities (movie nights, ice breaker games, sports, etc.) It was really special seeing these kids being just that: kids. For one week, they had no chores, no strict teachers breathing down their necks and yelling at them, and activities completely for them. The last night we played a slideshow of photos from the week and tears were shed, exactly like summer camps I went to back in the day. Magical!

I spent the past week in Spain with my brother, Ethan. It was good to get out of Guinea for a bit: eat good food, see some interesting places (a huge bullfighting ring, among others), attend a Rolling Stones concert in the Real Madrid stadium, and enjoy comfortable travel in a bullet train, where everything leaves on time and you get your own assigned seat....

I am now back in Guinea, right for the start of Ramadan (no food anywhere). I'm happy to be back: I'll be spending the next two weeks helping to train the new group of Education volunteers coming in on the 3rd. One person among them will be replacing me in Cissela! After these two weeks I'll finally go back to site -- it's been far too long. I'll embrace my last 6 weeks there before heading back to the states for home leave. Then it's back to Guinea for round three!