Mariame Sylla? No, Mariame Cissé

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

On August 15^th 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!

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/

Pictures!

 Waterfall visit

Biking around the rice paddies 

Me looking like a nerd

Beautiful Dubreka

In the Swing

Three weeks have passed in Dubreka, so I’ve finally managed to figure out my daily routine. A normal day here looks a little bit like this:

6:15AM: Wake up!

6:30AM: Shower time. Go to the well, try to ignore my family’s stares as they watch me pull up bidon of water, and take my bucket shower. (I will have biceps of steel soon!) I’ve managed to communicate to my family that all I need for breakfast is bread with butter (or peanut butter if I’m lucky), so I sit on the porch eating that. Sometimes my host father comes and sits with me before he heads to work. Ramadan has started, however, so I try not to eat around my family since they’re fasting everyday; I’ve been wrapping my bread up and take it to the training center to eat before class.

7:15AM To the training center! Three times a week, a group of us have been practicing yoga and meditation before school – a great way to start the day. One trainee, Geoff, is Buddhist so he leads the meditations.

8M: TRAINING!

Fortunately I live right behind the training center so my commute is about three minutes walking. (During this three minute walk I used to hear children shouting “foté,” or white person, a bunch. Now, they all know my Guinean name, so I hear shouts of “Mariam! Mariam!”)

So… what do I do at the training center all day?

Classes are either 2 hours or an hour and a half. The biggest emphasis is on language learning. Many trainees came in with very little French and we’re expected to test into an “Intermediate High” level by the end of the eleven weeks, so it is very intensive. French is really important for us as teachers, since it is the language of the schools. For this reason, our training is three weeks longer than it is for extension volunteers (public health, agroforestry, and community/economic development). I’ve tested into the advanced French level, so this much language class is a bit tedious. Right now my biggest issue with French is my vocabulary, so I’ve been reading French novels to try to expand upon that. Class usually consists of conversation topics, games, and story writing. It’s okay, there’s just a LOT of it, and sometimes I feel like I’m getting worse.

Another big component of training has been technical training, i.e., how to teach English in a Guinean high school. Some sessions have been really helpful, others not so much. Ousmane, our training coordinator, has been really receptive to our feedback for the TEFL training. Guinea currently has only one TEFL volunteer so the training program isn’t as fine tuned as the other subjects (math, chemistry, and physics). Topics for these sessions range from learning about the Guinean educational hierarchy to how to effectively teach grammar lessons. I’m definitely nervous about being ready to teach when the time comes, but the last three weeks of training are practice school, so I’ll have an opportunity to try it out before being placed into my community. Technical training has also become significantly better this past week, since Kelsey, the one current TEFL volunteer in country, came to Dubreka to help us out. Since her arrival, she’s been running the technical training sessions, and they have been incredibly informative/helpful.

Once or twice a week, we have cross-cultural training. These classes have topics like family roles, religion and taboos, and styles of communication, among others. I’ve enjoyed these classes; they’re generally very interactive and are very applicable, especially since we live in homestay families.

The last major piece of training is focused on health. Peace Corps Guinea has two doctors that are on call for volunteers, which is an excellent (and important) resource. One of these doctors comes in to lead classes on diarrhea (yes, two hours on the topic), food preparation, malaria, and others. They include broad overviews of the illnesses (such as the life cycle of the malarial parasite) and also how we can self diagnose many of them, or what to do if we think we’re sick. We’ve each been provided with a medical kit that is FULL of goodies, so I think I’m in good hands. The doctor that gives these presentations is EXTREMELY (sometimes annoyingly) energetic; he has joyfully proclaimed us “the D.F.G” (diarrhea-free group) and is making us t-shirts with this acronym. Lovely.

One aspect of training that has been really great and requires mentioning has been the presence of the volunteer trainers. Four current volunteers that have been in Guinea for a year are in Dubreka helping out with training. Their insight and advice has been incredibly helpful. It’s nice to see them and think, “They made it through a year and are happy! I can do this!” They participate a lot in the technical training sessions, giving us advice on working in the Guinean school system, which is kind of terrifying but necessary. I’ve been warned about rampant cheating, uncontrollable classes, and a major lack of resources. It’s daunting, but definitely better to know beforehand rather than being unpleasantly surprised upon arriving at site.

12:30-2PM Lunch. Go to the market to buy sandwiches, avocados, oranges, bananas, etc. Relax, read, hang out.

2-5PM More training. Exhausting!

5PM Sometimes internet, sometimes go drum at a neighbor’s house, sometimes bike ride around the rice paddies, sometimes just hang out at the training center.

6:30PM Return home to spend time with the family.

7:30PM Spicy fishy sauce with rice. Now that it’s Ramadan, I wait for my family to pray and then I break the fast with them by eating out of a communal bowl.

8:30PM Go to my room to study or read, or go on a night walk with another trainee. It is really dark at this point and I’m usually really tired!

9:30 or 10PM Tuck myself into my mosquito net and go to bed!

Weekends have been enjoyable. The first Saturday here, we went to swim in a BEAUTIFUL waterfall about 25K away. A dozen of us chose to bike there, which was amazing. I continue to be blown away by the physical beauty of this country. This past weekend I spent all of Saturday biking around Dubreka. There is a gorgeous bike ride on a dirt road around the rice paddies. The one downside to this is that, since it’s rainy season, I end the ride completely covered head to toe in mud. My host family is always horrified when I come back so dirty.

The weekend before Ramadan, I went out to a bar with my host brother and some other volunteers. Moral of the story: not the most fun. It was probably around 120 degrees in the bar, and it was fun to dance for a bit until it got too hot. The night ended by walking home by flashlight at 2 in the morning through the pouring rain.

Each day that passes seems to go so slowly, but it is weird to me that August is quickly approaching. Our group is getting along really well and we’re all hanging in there, except for one that decided to go home early (very sad for all of us). I think one of the biggest personal challenges I’ll have in Guinea is dealing with my health. I have been VERY lucky thus far (knock on wood) but I know I’m just waiting for my turn to come. It’s almost funny how openly we speak about the intimate details of our health issues here. I guess when you’re here, living in a setting where everyone gets sick, your standards quickly change.

Lastly… SITE. Aside from gossiping and talking about American food (both of which are standard conversation topics for a PCT) one of the most talked about subjects is placements. We’ve patiently waited three weeks, and the day for site announcements has finally arrived. This is a huge milestone: my Peace Corps application process took over a year, and finding out where exactly within Guinea I’ll be placed seems like the final step! It’s a daunting (but exciting) prospect.

This weekend, some other trainees and myself are going to hike up “Le Chien Qui Fume” (“the smoking dog”), a nearby mountain. I’m really looking forward to it!

The next time I write I’ll be posting about my future home for the next two years. Get excited!

P.S.

Friends! I have a cell phone here in Guinea. You can text me FOR FREE from gmail and it is super cheap for me to respond. Any word from home is greatly appreciated. My number is country code 224, number 68 71 57 14. Contact me!

Life in Dubreka

The Family

Meeting and living with in my Guinean host family has got to be one of the most nerve-wracking but fun experiences I’ve had, period. It all began at our “adoption ceremony” which took place last Friday morning in Dubreka. It consisted of some speeches presented by the head of PC Training, Julie (our Country Director), and a representative of the prefecture, among others. We then watched a group of children drumming and singing – it was really quite impressive – until we were pulled up onto the stage to dance. (Those of you that heard about my experiences in Mali know that this is NOT my first time publicly humiliating myself in this fashion.) Finally, they brought the families up one by one and announced what volunteer would be taken away with them, much like a game show. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified.  Fortunately, I was near the beginning: la famille Sylla. Four of my host brothers came to the ceremony to meet me: three small children and one in his 20s. Having the kids around made going back to sit with the family far less stressful and more pleasant. Fortunately, most of the family speaks French.

La famille “Le Bon” Sylla (as we are known) live in a home just next to a large soccer field (much like my host family in Mali!). My own room is separate from the house; it’s essentially a concrete square with 2 beds (one that is broken), a desk, and a chair. Peace Corps has provided me with a water filter that takes up much of the desk space. There is a small window but the room is very, very dark. But it’s my own room with my own space, so I like it!

The rest of the family compound consists of other homes where different members of the family live around a courtyard. There is a well in one corner of the courtyard, and a small room where the cooking is done in another. The latrines (one for showering, one for the bathroom) are behind the kitchen. This compound is connected to another where the rest of the family resides by a doorway, and between the two compounds there are at least 20 people living here, most of them children. I haven’t quite figured out who everyone is yet, but I’ve asked many a question about how people are related and I think I’ve got most of it figured out. Essentially, my host father is the chef de famille, and many of his nieces and nephews live with us as adopted children. My host mother’s younger sister also lives on the compound with her children, as do a couple of close friends (one of whom is a tailor that makes beautiful clothing). I love the kids. Much of my time at home is spent playing with them, and my oldest host brother has already decided that Aliou, a 3-year-old, is my “husband.” I especially enjoy the children as they are patient with my incessant questions about Susu (the language my family uses for conversation).

In terms of amenities, the house does have connection to electricity, but the town of Dubreka is often cut off. In fact, in my 10ish nights here, I have seen the electricity working twice. This means that when the sun goes down at 7PM, I usually retreat to bed shortly thereafter. There is no running water, which is fine. My drinking water comes from the pump that is on every other day (I store it in large jugs in my room), and my water for cleaning comes from the well in our compound. The only major issue with that is that water is HEAVY and I am not the strongest. But alas, I will improve!

My host father is polygamous. My first night here, my siblings told me I would have to wait until the next day to meet him, as he was at his other wife’s house. Last night my host mother talked to me about it. She asked me about polygamy and the United States and we discussed why it isn’t commonplace. I asked her why she and her coepouse (co-wife) don’t all live in the same compound (as I’ve seen in the past), and she explained that living separately was the will of my host father. I did not want to pry, but she did tell me that her co-wife also has two children and that I will go to meet them one day. My host mother’s youngest daughter, Madou, is named after the other wife. It is my understanding that having multiple wives is very expensive and can therefore be seen as some sort of status symbol. I know that my host father works as a director for a company that produces flour. Based on the fact that he has adopted many of his nieces and nephews, I presume that he is well off relative to the rest of his family.

I adore my oldest sister, Mariam (yes, this is also my name given to me by my mother – very confusing). She is 20 and has been great at taking me under her wing. She just took the baccalaureate and is waiting for her scores to see if she can go to university next year (this level of education is already a huge deal for a woman in Guinea). Since it’s the summer, she spends everyday sitting outside selling fried sweet potatoes, looking a bit like a child’s lemonade stand. She tops them with hot sauce and they are delicious!

Speaking of…

The Food

Oh, rice. Sadly, I don’t love rice. I hardly eat it in the states. Here, it is served at every meal (including breakfast). I suppose I will learn to love it.

For breakfast, my family gives me a piece of bread (actually quite delicious baguette) with something on the side. That something on the side differs. My first morning here, it was a giant fish with the eyes still in intact with cold pasta on the side. That did not make me very happy. The next morning, it was a mixture of avocado, potato, tomato, and onion – so good. It’s a bit of a gamble. If I really don’t like it (the giant fish), I take a few bites out of politesse and tell them I’m full.

At school, I go to the market for lunch. My favorite thing is to just eat a full mango. I cannot put into words how delicious these mangoes are. I truly have never tasted anything like it. If I’m hungrier, I’ll buy some baguette and avocado, a bean sandwich, or a hard-boiled egg.  Since it’s usually so hot, a mango is usually all I want. It’s about 15 cents for a huge, juicy mango.

I eat dinner at home. I still haven’t really figured out if or when my family eats dinner (they each just seem to eat when they’re hungry), so I eat on my own but usually sitting with my family. The meal: rice and sauce, always with fish. The fish is actually pretty good; since we’re so close to the coast it’s always quite fresh. The sauce can be made with many things (peanuts, gumbo, tomatoes) but it is always really spicy, which I love. I also think the spice might overpower any really fishy taste…

The Weather

The weather is INSANE here. Right now it’s the rainy season; you can tell when you look around. Everything is so green and beautiful. I have never witnessed rains as strong as here, even in Minnesota. Last night we had an incredible downpour for four hours. Since the roofs here are tin, it’s particularly loud. It can be kind of startling when it wakes me up at night, but usually I find the noise to be soothing. During one of our first nights in Conakry, we had our first really big rainstorm. Some of us went up onto the roof and stood under a shelter to watch it. It was unreal.

I think that’s all I’ll include in this post – sorry it got so long. I’ll definitely post about what I actually do all day every day at the training center soon. A bientot!

Arrived and feeling great

I’m HERE!!!!!!!!

I sit in our training center in Dubreka, Guinea. So much has happened in the past week, I don’t even know where to start! Initial impressions: RAIN! BABIES! And so much Susu!

The first few days as a Peace Corps Trainee (PCT) went very smoothly. Staging day in Philadelphia was actually a whole lot of fun as mentioned in my previous post. Everyone in my group is getting along really well and is coming from different places and backgrounds. It’s nice to be out of the Macalester bubble (as much as I loved it) and to meet people that went to different schools and some that have had real person jobs for some time. Compared other Peace Corps countries, our training class is really young (all under 30 and at least one third of us just graduated from college). We’ve been told that’s because Guinea has really poor medical care and so older people with health conditions can’t really make it here. (Also Guinea is apparently number 1 in Peace Corps countries for volunteer diarrhea. Sorry if that was too much info.)

Anyway, traveling with all 27 volunteers was a bit crazy but we managed it without any major hiccups.  When we landed in Conakry, some volunteers, staff, and the country director were there with a big sign saying “Welcome to GUINEA!” It was all very exciting despite the sleep deprivation. They drove us to the PC house and we got our first glimpses of Conakry. First impressions: DARKNESS. I’m trying not to compare Guinea to Mali too much, but Conakry is markedly darker than Bamako – very little electricity.  Also, tons of people walking around in the streets. It was scary – it really felt like were going to run them over!

We spent three nights in the volunteer house in Conakry. We had air conditioning, running water, and nice meals. However, we also really lacked privacy. I shared a room with 7 other volunteers, bunk bed style. It was fun, but exhausting. We also had lots of sessions on intros to Peace Corps Guinea, “survival” language sessions (for our homestay family – I learned some Susu), and interviews for our French language placement.

Now I am in Dubreka, staying with a homestay family and going to training school. I have SO much to say about my homestay family but my time is really running low on the internet and it is very SLOW so I need to post this. I will definitely add more as soon as I can.  Also I’ll try to put up pictures. There is just way too much to say right now! But I am happy despite being really sweaty all the time!

OH! P.s. I have a Guinean name: Mariam Sylla. That is the only name I will be responding to now.

Staging and a final farewell

Devoted readers,

Exhausted, loopy, whatever you want to call it, I've survived staging in Philly. The day consisted of a lot of ice breakers and games for the 27 education volunteers heading to Guinea, mostly involving Peace Corps history/rules/talking about our own anxieties and hopes (lots of laughter and camaraderie). Basically, they served us Koolaid, we drank it, and it was delicious!

I now sit in my Holiday Inn hotel room, ready to pass out and wake up a new woman. Most of these other trainees must think I am loca due to my epic fatigue. I feel like the bright-eyed, naive Peace Corps Trainee that I should be! Excited, motivated, and relieved by how great this group seems.

I apologize for the brevity of this post. I'm too overwhelmed and exhausted to express basic facts. The next post will be from Guinea. See you on the other side!


p.s. THANK YOU to my family and friends who have supported me throughout this entire process. Saying goodbye was not pleasant and I will think of you often.