Sad Amy

I miss Bob Dake. That's all I have to say for today.

My New Favorite

I am in love. 3km away from Siguiri, high on top of a hill, lies St. Alexi. It is a town full of Christians (not a single Muslim), with its own simple church and a giant mango plantation. I have begun to work with a group of masons up there, and each visit gets better and better. They are incredibly welcoming, like all Malinke, but St Alexi’s has a special appeal – honey wine and pork. And that is why I am in love. See, Muslims don’t drink, so Guineans are not very creative with their spirits. Skol, Guiluxe, pretty much all you find around here. But those Christians up on the hill have a special home brew made of honey that is absolutely delicious. Muslims also don’t eat pork, but up on the hill the Christians do. I tried to explain bacon to them, and I am convinced that by the end of two years, I will be eating BLTs and sipping honey wine with the Christians up on the hill.

It's a Little More Wild in Haute

And that’s why I came here. There’s more music, more smiles, more yelling, more laughing, more colors. The people are incredibly animated – my host family most of all. I live with the Berete family in “downtown” Siguiri, and each family member is crazier than the next. They will yell at each other for 10 minutes and then start laughing, signaling the end of the fight, I presume. The main man of the house, El Haj Sekou Berete, welcomed me warmly, and we chatted in English (he has been to the US 3 times – from New York to Seattle, he says.) As a young man, he sold African Arts, so his family’s home is full of piles of wooden stools and masks. I have said when my mother comes to visit, she will surely want to buy something (don’t worry, Mom, the stuff is gorgeous – I know you will agree). Our conversation abruptly ended that first day when we heard yelling from outside and he left to calm the quarrel. Seriously, everything is a bit more wild in Haute – especially the people. It seems like I am seeing Guinea in color for the first time.

Peace Corps vs. Posh Corps

Guinea is a rough Peace Corps country. When I told an RPCV from Guinea Bissau that I was coming here, her wide-eyed response was “that’s hardcore.” It scared the shit out of me last September. Now that I am here, I understand. Electricity is hard to come by (although I bet in the next two years, the electricity will work again in Siguiri), and running water is even less available. The handful of “highways” are often kilometers of potholes – hell, the road into Conakry, the capital, isnt even paved! Guinea is hard core Peace Corps.
Here in PC Guinea, there are those that truly live this hardcore experience – those out in the brush of Haute eating too (prnounced “toe”) for breakfast, lunch and dinner, without a single French speaker in town. I am not however, one of those. Most SED volunteers aren’t – we can’t do our job in the brush – there isn’t the opportunity. It means that we live like Kings in Guinea. Some of us even have electricity (ohhhhh, I am jealous!). We, those living like kings, are known as Posh Corps volunteers. Now, I may not have running water or electricity, but I have pizza in town. It’s too cher to eat daily, but once a month, I can eat PIZZA. There is also an ex-pat store at the South African gold mines where I can buy tequila or brie or cornflakes. Note – at the gold mines, there’s also a POOL! It feels like a resort. Now, it’s far out of town and there are super sketchy miners all around, but hey, if that’s not Posh Corps, I don’t know what is. The last thing that is definitely Posh Corps is the computer right here (powered by a satellite and generators). How lucky am I?
Don’t worry everyone – I am still having those Peace Corps experiences. Sitting around drink tea in the shade with a bunch of men speaking Malinke, a language I don’t understand; being the most popular person in town because I am the “tubabu muso” (white lady); riding my bike many kms each day; being a bit lonely at times; craving an American movie and sushi. It’s Posh Corps at times and Peace Corps at others. A nice balance that will make these next two years quite enjoyable.

Onto another subject – my work here. Many of you have asked about what work I am planning to do. Here goes. I am a small enterprise development volunteer, which means I work with entrepreneurs to improve their businesses. I can teach simple things to Guineans – Profit=revenue-costs, a concept foreign to many businessmen here. Crazy, huh?

Here is a list of things I have doen so far, during my first month at site:
- worked with ADRA, a large NGO. I am working on a grant proposal for Food for Progress for them.
- -met with the Federation of Groupements of Artisans here in Siguiri. I plan to help them get a bit more organized.
- Met with a mechanics groupement and talked about procuring supplies for fixing cars. Now, in order to buy the things they need, their mechanics spend a few days at the gold mines to have cash to buy the part. That’s not good business. We will fix that. I will keep you updated.
- Met with the masons of St. Alexi to drink honey wine and talk about forming an official groupement and its benefits.
- Met with a car body repair groupement and talked about getting oxygen gas at a better price from Conakry. We will work on this more – I will keep you posted.

Here’s what I plan to do:
- work with other groupements to streamline their businesses.
- Teach CV writing and interview skills at ADRA, as their employees will be out of a job when ADRA leaves Siguiri by the end of the year.
- Help ADRA with closing their microcredit program – sending all beneficiaries to Credit Rural
- Do computer training at a young women’s organization, APROFIG
- Help organize the production of “AISHA”, a young women’s empowerment magazine. Geordie, please help!
- Start a young women’s business club where I would teach basic business skills
- Possibly adopt Mandy’s beekeeping project in Tiguiberry (?? – I have never much liked bees, but I do love honey!)

So, that’s what I plan to do. I also plan to work hard on my French and my Malinke and bike a lot a read a lot of nerdy econ stuff to prepare for my PhD. Overall, it’s going to be a busy couple of years. Wish me luck!

second post from site, an hour later

dude, it's going to be 106 degrees today in bamako. bamako is the closest city to me that weather.com reports. it might be slightly cooler here, but it's probably more humid too. damn haute. but i love it here anyway, don't i? yes. yes, i do.

first entry from site

Hey everyone!! I am finally in Siguiri and doing very well. As I am sure any RPCV will tell you, the first week at site is full of ups and downs. My ups have included:

-finding my way around this HUGE city alone
-finding a family to eat with… kinda
-meeting the owner of a café which I have frequented daily
-and using my Malinke successfully with older women who love it when you speak their language. Let me give you a sample conversation:

Me: I Ni Ke ( thank you, but it’s a greeting)
Them: N Se, I ni ke (I am here, thank you.)
Me. Tana ma si? (is there evil ?)
Them: tana si te. Tana ma si ? (there is none here, is there evil there ?)
Me: tana si te. (there is no evil here).

I especially love when men say ‘N ba’ instead of a woman’s n se because it means something like ‘I am here and you can thank my mother for it.’ I like that. ( speaking of which – it’s my mama’s birthday – everyone call Pat Klein today and say Happy Birthday!)

anyway, continuing the ups list:

-Pulling my own water out of the well for bathing and fetching my own cleaner pump water for drinking (which is down the street a bit and water is heavy – I may pay someone to do this for me in the future)
-Buying veggies for making my OWN dinner – I haven’t cooked for myself in months!
-Buying fabric - yay clothes!
-Not buying jewelry – I have held out so far. This is the only place in this god-forsaken country that makes jewelry – how did Yamilee know to put me here? It’s all local gold too – so gorgeous and cheap by American standards. I will buy some soon.
-Taking a walk out the road to mali alone yesterday morning – greeting everyone along the way
-Realizing they have COCA COLA LIGHT here in siguiri, but it’s pas glace (not cold)
-Ordering customized furniture from my new friend, Kante, at the carpenter groupement.
-Buying Kante and I warm sodas. He’s a very good new friend.
-Running into my other counterpart in the busy streets of Siguiri– I hope he stops by to see me later today!


Ok – now for my downs this first week, which have been fewer than I imagined –

-Not having a key to my door when we arrived and having to break the door open
-My counterpart is in kissidougou for the week. Hopefully he will return soon!
-Not being able to sleep a wink due to the heat.
-Waking up in a pool of my own sweat
-Missing my mom
-Missing Reid
-Missing everyone else
-Realizing that there is NO electricity in Siguiri – which may force me to invest 300,000 Guinean francs (60 dollars) in a generator simply for the benefit of a fan at night
-Realizing there are NO cold beverages here bc there is ABSOLUTELY NO ELECTRICITY.
-Damn the lack of electricity.
-Oh, and trunks cost 3x as much here as in Kankan. Now I have to trek down there to buy a few.

Oh, and I am not sure whether to put this under good or bad, but I have lizards in my bathroom – big ones! And I saw a little one in my bedroom yesterday. Oh, and I have most of the other usual guinean houseguests: spiders (giant ones!) and ants, but there have been no roaches or rats YET. I just jinxed it, huh?

Well, I will leave you all with that. I should be back at internet in a week or so – it’s a long uphill bikeride in the haute heat, but it’s worth it! Keep sending emails and care packages. I need the love.

You guys don’t know how much you are missed. I love you.

Rain dance?

It’s fucking hot. That’s all we say around here. Seriously, it’s too hot to do much between the hours of, well, all the time. The volunteers in the cooler mountainous Fouta region took a hike a few days ago. I also took a hike here in the hot savannah – I hiked downstairs to get ice cream and then came back up to the bureau. Let me tell you – Haute is HOT.

Last night there was an hour long break in the devil’s heat – it rained. It rained like I have never seen it rain here in Guinea. Since arriving in Africa last January, it has “rained” twice, but after seeing the rain last night, I don’t consider those other two times real rain anymore. Last night, you could feel the humidity building and the breeze pick up. Slowly, thunder and lightening approached, and we headed back to the Kankan hotel before the sky ripped open. Sitting outside, enjoying a Fanta and some French fries, I felt my first rain drop. I almost cried tears of joy. It sprinkled for a bit – not enough to force us to move inside though. I went up to my hotel room and began reading, thinking the real rain would never come. Then, after a half hour or so, the sky let loose and all I could hear was the deafening sound of rain on the tin roofs of Kankan. I ran out to the covered balcony and just watched it POUR. I watched the beautiful rain and felt it cool down the air and I actually got goosebumps. I sat on that balcony for an hour, just listening to the wonderful sound of water falling in the savannah. It was amazing.

And then it got hot. I woke up in the middle of the night sweating, wishing it would rain again to break the heat once more. I guess, as we approach the wet season (which is still actually a month or two away), the rains will become more and more frequent, and then after months of rain, I will crave dryness once again.

But right now, I want another rain. Anyone know a good rain dance??

The Stories of Two Guinean

There are two people in Forecariah that I will not soon forget. Their characters have been forever imprinted in my mind, and I believe they are two of the strongest and most human people I have ever met.

The first one I would like to tell you all about is Aminata Kouyate, my host-mother. Aside from her physical beauty, she has a charm about her that is difficult to describe in words. Her strong body carries the heaviest bidons of water with grace and ease, in a manner that leaves me speechless every time. She is the first to rise and the last to bed, and her entire day is spent taking care of her family and taking care of me. Her smile and charm warms up the coldest of strangers, but there is also a force within her that makes me sure that she is the strongest woman I have ever met. She is tall and thick, and she moves in the slow Guinean manner with purpose but not haste. She performs her thankless job everyday with little reward, and I could not thank her enough before I left Forecariah for all that she had done for me. She is a woman I will work to model myself after. If I could capture a hundredth of her charm and beauty, I would be satisfied.

The second Guinean I would like to tell you about is Oumar, Eden’s host-uncle, and the generous owner of The Plantation. Oumar studied botany at University, but never took a job in the field. Instead, he became an artist, a difficult profession in a country where few have disposable income. Oumar met a woman and had two children with her, but she left him because she believed that an artist could not properly support her and her children. After separating, both of Oumar’s children passed away, so now he lives alone at the age of 45. Since his wife left him, however, Oumar has had great success with his painting. He traveled to France to show his work, and he sold many of his beautiful African paintings that were directly inspired from his Guinean environment. He now lives in Forecariah at the Plantation, a hotel with a bar and nightclub. He welcomed all Americans with his endless generosity, and he always said that we were his family. He treated us as such, he argued, because his sister is now living in San Francisco, married to an RPCV, and he hopes that someone welcomes her the same way he welcomed us. Oumar often has so much energy about him that he can’t stop dancing. He loves American music, and he is often found dancing alone as if no one is watching. At other times, though, he can be found sipping a beer and smoking a cigarette in a somber mood alone outside his bar. These are the times when Oumar seems most human – you see his loneliness and solitude for an instant, but as soon as he sees you arrive, his mood changes and his smile lets you know how welcome you truly are.

These two Guineans have struck a cord of beauty within my soul. Their strength and their warmth capture what it means to be human, living the same existence as the rest of us. This beautiful humanity is what brings us together as a race, as a people, and I am lucky to have found this common humanity in a place so far from my home.

In Kakan

I have been spoiled recently.  I am approaching an
entire week in Guinea with both running water and
electricity.  In fact, for four days, I had AIR-
CONDITIONING.  After the farewell ceremony in
Forecariah, we spent a few days in the capital of
this lovely country becoming volunteers and getting
prepared to go into the field.  Although the water
in Conakry was off about 12 hours a day and the
electricity in Kankan wasn’t working upon our
midnight arrival, I still feel like I have escaped
the developing world for a week.  I also have eaten
well – hamburgers (with fries, egg, and piment on
top), schawarma sandwiches, cold sodas, cheese and
wine, yogurt, etc, but due to the consumption of many
raw tomatoes and/or sketchy bisap juice, my intestines
and I are at war again.  It was worth it though.

So, we all successfully swore-in as volunteers on Friday
in Conakry.  It was a really meaningful moment for
me – one that I had waited over two years for.  Our
Country Director, Steve, quoted one of our PCTs during
his speech at the Affectation Ceremony: “I don’t plan
to move mountains while I am here, but I do hope to
move a few stones.”  Now that we are official volunteers
and we are heading out to site, I am ready to begin
working on those small stones.

The rest of our time in Conakry was spent eating
protein-filled food, visiting Marche Niger (the
largest marche in West Africa – a frightening
place!), going through one can of Skol beer after
another, and just getting ready to say good-
bye to the group that we had grown so close to.
Spending our last days together as a group put a
lot of stress on all of us.  We wanted to make the
time special; we wanted to go out with a bang before
parting ways.  I definitely left Conakry on a high
note that included a dance party on the roof, a
date on the beach with wine and cheese at sunset,
and a hysterical prank pulled on Ping, one of
my favorite people in Guinea.  I spent quality time
with Reid and my other friends before Sunday
morning, when we left.  It was harder to say
good-bye than I thought it would be, although
it makes sense it was difficult.  I am leaving
most of my support system to venture out alone
to the savannah of upper Haute Guinea and I
won’t see my new-found but very close friends
for over 3 months.  But come July 1, I am free
to leave my work-zone and venture around the
country, visiting Fouta to see my favorite non-Hauters.
It’s going to be a rough but fun three months –
with many ups and many downs, and I seriously can’t
wait until In-Service Training in mid-July to
see everyone and hear how everyone’s sites are.

But right now, I am chilling in Kankan until
Saturday with all 13 of my Haute peeps.  Basically,
we are here to recover from our emotional
departure from Conakry, purchase things for moving in,
and just have a good time.  Today, I am just hanging
out at the PCV house, recuperating from a very rough
ride from Conakry to Kankan yesterday.  After only
getting an hour and a half of sleep on Saturday
night, we left Conakry at 9:30am in one PC vehicle jam
packed with 13 new volunteers.  Typically, we are
just left to make our way out to site on our own,
but due to numerous reasons =(including the lack of bush
taxi safety and the lack of enough move-in allowance
after a year full of inflation), we were taken to Kankan
together and we will be carted out to site by PC
beginning on Thursday.  If you think a transatlantic
airplane ride is rough, you haven’t ridden in a bush
taxi.  If you think a bush taxi ride is rough, you
haven’t ridden with 12 other people in the sideways
PC SUV.  We had negative leg room and the ride was 15
hours long.  Some lowlights of the trip included
stopping too much and wasting time, trying to figure
out how to make the most out of the available room in
the truck, hitting my head constantly while trying to
sleep against the window whenever we went over bumps,
and the horribly potholed road between Dabola and
Kouroussa.  I still don’t understand how one of the
three or four major, paved roads in the country
can suck that much.  Anyway, here are some highlights
to balance out the lowlights: Geordie’s spray bottle fan
contraption that sprayed a cool mist of water on you,
buying a Snickers bar at a gas station, a bruised but
delicious papaya, and most of all – getting to see the
Fouta people unexpectedly in Mamou when we stopped for
lunch.  I thought I had said my final good-byes to
everyone, all teary eyed, in Conakry, but when we
stopped for lunch in Mamou, the Fouta-bound bus pulled
up 20 minutes behind us to dejeuner as well.  It was
perfect to get to see Reid one more time, unexpectedly,
and spend a happy 20 minutes with him eating mango and
meat on a stick.

The rest of the week here in Kankan is devoted to whatever
we want to do.  I plan to shop a bit tomorrow and also
open my up-country bank account.  On Wednesday night, a
huge Kankan party is planned for all current and new
volunteers, and the theme of the party is “Haute Couture.”
Get it?  We are in Haute Guinea, just in case you didn’t.
Some people are going all out - having outfits made or
going dead tubabu* shopping.  It should be a great
welcoming party for us new volunteers – I can’t wait!

On Saturday, I will leave Kankan for Siguiri with Rob,
Geordie, and Cathleen.  Luckily, PC is taking us all
directly to site, baggage and all, and although it’s
another long PC-SUV day, I still think it is easier than
getting to site via deplaced bush taxi.  After Saturday,
I will be alone at site.  Not really alone – there are
100,000 Guneans and Malians in Siguiri, and one other
American – Mandy, a former PCV who ETed to take on a
full time job at the NGO she was working with.  Keelin,
a health volunteer and Rob, an AgFo volunteer are also
both a short bike ride/pirogue ride away, so I am
not too isolated, for a Haute Guinea volunteer. Still,
it will be a challenge unlike any other I have ever
faced.  And I absolutely cannot wait to get it started.
Wish me luck, and please stay in touch.




*By “Dead tubabu shopping” I mean “used Western clothes
shopping”.  Kinda like going to a thrift store.  It’s
called dead tubabu because tubabu means white person in
Malinke, and the locals think that a person must have died
to part with such amazing clothes.  On the coast, it’s
“dead fote shopping”, in Fouta, it’s “dead porto shopping”
and here in Haute, it’s “dead tubabu shopping.”
Guinea and her languages…wow!