Marché Noir

In accordance with the Posh Corps/Peace Corps contradiction, I spent the majority of my day yesterday dealing in the Black Markets of Conakry to purchase a working cell phone. Let me tell the short version of the story: With 5 people in tow, we were dropped off in downtown Conakry, right across from the BiCiGui, the main bank here in Guinea. Now, this is not a place of orderly lines, and let me put it this way - there are none of those numbered ticket dispensers as there are at deli counters back in the States. When we entered the office of the bank man, there was already a crowd of people, and more kept filing in. Luckily, this bank man likes to help the foreigners, so we didn't have to wait tooooo long. Then, out by the teller, the five of us stood in blocking formation, much like defensive football players, spread out and pushing forward, so no Guinean could cut in front of us, and so we could one day be at the front. The teller lady clearly didn't like us, and she called for those behind us to step ahead of us for service. This was all Rasa's fault (sorry, hun!), as she had been there the day before and had a tiny altercation with this teller lady. As soon as the teller lady saw her in line, we knew we were screwed. Anyway, eventually, we got to the front of the line and received our money, our last chance to withdraw cash before the strike that may commence on Monday.

At this point, it was time to step outside, into the Conakry heat of midday, to hunt down some SIM cards. Let me explain why this is so difficult: It is not easy in Guinea to get a cell phone. Hence, why I have not bought one yet. There are no Verizon or T-Mobile stores in strip malls here, where one could go in, sign up for a plan, get a free phone, and walk out a happy customer. In fact, there is nowhere to go to get a cell phone number because there simply aren't any available. Sotelgui, the main mobil phone company here does not have enough numbers to meet demand across the country, so buying a phone number is nearly impossible. However, the day before yesterday, Sotelgui released thousands of new numbers across the nation and lines formed in all cities, as people waited (impatiently) to get their hands on a SIM card. So, back to the story... Jan and I left the bank before the rest of our entourage in search of the as-valuable-as-diamonds SIM cards. We wandered the main street in Conakry, asking street vendors where we could get our foreign hands on them. We found one man selling them on the street (illegally), but he only had a single card left, and we needed 3. Upon understanding that we need more than 1 SIM card, a street vendor in a white shirt and shiny green track pants offered to take us (for a charge of 5,000 guinean francs) to where we could buy them. "Biensur!" Jan and I exclaimed. Paying the equivalent of $1 was defintely worth it! So, he quickly led us down a street, hopping over puddles and curbs, turning corners, and we end up outside the Sotelgui office, where hundreds of people were in line tying to legally buy phone cards. We asked if there was any other way, and our shiny-green-pants-man took off again, stopping at another street vendor, asking if he is selling numbers. The entire interaction was incredibly shady, sketchy, strange, and mysterious. But, alas, there were 3 SIM cards, and the man had only marked up the price by 30,000 guinean francs. 6 extra bucks.... worth it to me! So, we spent the next hour testing them all, putting them in a phone to see if they work, calling other phones to find the number - and all of this is difficult in Guinea, as the network is often so busy, calls take many tries to go through (forcing 0ne to ask why they are selling more numbers). Eventually, it all got done, and we just had to finish filling out "paperwork," which didn't even ask for our names. We were handed falsified receipts, stating that we paid the legal price for the cards, not the black market price, I guess to make the transaction look legitimate...?

The whole process took hours in the midday Conakry heat, and Jan and I had not had breakfast, and we did not have enough water. I was a bit cranky and lightheaded when the ordeal was over, but we met up with Reid, Murph, and Rasa, and had an American lunch of pizza and burgers at La Gondole. Overall, it was my most productive day in Conakry. In fact, it may have been my most productive day in country. And now I have a cell phone! Who knows how well it will work in Siguiri (the network isn't very good out there), but at least I will look cool, carrying around a clunky Nokia everywhere I go.

My mom asked (while I was recently talking to her on my shiny new cell phone), "how do you plan to charge the phone, Aim?" Good question - even though I don't have electricity a home in Siguiri, innovative Guineans have solved the problem. I can pay a man on the street to seel me electricity. He will just plug it into a looooong extension cord attached to a generator, and let it sit on the street for an hour or so until it's all good and charged.

Conakry

Hello everyone! I made it to Conakry after the aforementioned two and a half days of hell. The ride to Kankan was smooth, but from Kankan to Dabola, I had to ride in a minibus, not an actual car. I have told you how many people they squish into the taxi cars, but let me tell you – they squish more into the minibuses! And just to let you know, that road between Kouroussa and Dabola is still potholed. And the minibus only took me to Bissikrima (20km from Dabola), where I had to wait hours for another taxi to leave. I thought we wouldn’t make it to Dabola, but we finally got ready to leave, and things started looking promising.

Until the car wouldn’t start.

Men had to jump off the roof to push it to get the car to actually turn on! And then we had to do it again when we stalled out going over a giant pothole. And again after a speed bump. Then, we started cruising. Thank goodness, I thought. But then, the driver began turning off the engine each time we cruised down one of the small hills out there. Then he would try to turn it back on as we approached the next uphill. It was an adventure, as taxi rides here always are. But I finally made it safely to Dabola and had to find my way to Eric’s house. Luckily, I found the police station, and a very helpful man took me right there. Boy, was I relieved to find Eric at home! (I wasn’t actually sure he’d be there at all, as there was no way to let him know in this country of poor communication that I was planning on visiting him from 350 km away).

My evening in Dabola was full of good food, intellectual conversation, cold sodas, and being caught in the fiercest rainstorm ever. Josh, my APCD picked me up in a Peace Corps ride the next morning, and we continued down the road to Tolo, Devon’s site, where Reid was waiting for me. It was really magical to finally see him again. 6 weeks is too too long. I never want to do it again.

On our ride down to the big C, things kept getting greener and greener. I had forgotten how colorful the world could be. Everything in Haute is brown with a teeny bit of green mixed in. Everything in the rest of Guinea is green, straight green, nothing else mixed in. We stopped at numerous roadside fruit stands, where I went CRAZY! So much color, so much fruit! I didn’t realize how deprived I was in Haute. I bought pineapples, mangos, papayas, tomatoes, eggplant… so much color!!! I still love Siguiri, and I can’t wait to get back, but I am going to take back a GIANT box of Bas-Cote fruit with me!

Since arriving in Conakry, life has been mostly a vacation. Reid and I have spent most of our time together, and each day our only main activity was going to the market to buy ingredients to prepare grand dinners. Let me describe the dinners to you:

Day 1 (with big group): Indian food. Marinated chicken, lentils, vegetables, and nan.
Day 2: (with Ali) baked fish, fried eggplant, with a cucumber salad dressed in a mint yogurt, and pita
Day 3: (with Ali and Zach) baked fish with pineapple, roasted sweet and plain potatoes, and giant salad
Day 4: olives and feta for an appetizer, pineapple-basil roasted chicken, roasted green peppers stuffed with a melange of tomato-basil couscous and Comte cheese, hummus, cooked cabbage, and a salad.
Day 5: Steak with blue cheese, steak fries, steamed carrots and green beans, and tomatoes with basil, garlic, and feta
Day 6: Baked fish again, this time baked with lime and basil, and served with a mango-cucumber salsa. Served with sautéed eggplant and zucchini and a salad of greens, avocado, blue cheese, and balsamic.

Each day got better. Can you believe we prepared such extravagant meals here in West Africa! Imagine what Reid and I could prepare if we had a Whole Foods nearby! The last few days have been less focused on food, as Reid came down with the Guinea-bug, and hasn’t been eating at all. It’s strange to be eating more than him right now. Usually I count on him to clean my chicken bones! But, I am sure the Guinea-bug will say Au Revoir soon, and Reid will be back to normal.

Yes, Reid was supposed to leave last week. Yes, we have spent a week and a half together. No, he is not faking his stomach problems to stay in Conakry longer to be with me. You can ask Steve, our Country Director.

Since Friday, things have taken on a different tone around here. Henry McKoy, the Director of the Africa region, arrived in town, and we have focused all of our attention on impressing him. An informal dinner at Steve’s, a visit to the PCV house, a formal cocktail party at the Ambassador’s…it’s all been quite amusing. I told Henry McKoy that we had met before – at DU when he came and spoke to my class, and after reminding him of our first meeting, he proceeded to tell everyone “our story” – from the Ambassador to our Country Director to our PCMO. The man would not stop telling the story! But I enjoyed his visit and all the free food, beer, and wine that came along with it. Please, Peace Corps, send your officials to Guinea anytime!

It’s sad – I have a lot more to say, but no energy to write it. I suppose I will finish up all the story telling later.

Ps – if you send me packages with food inside, THANK YOU! But say it’s oreos or granola bars or whatever in its own unopened packaging, please wrap them in something, and put them in sealed ziplocks. And then maybe another ziplock. And then some steel contraption. And then send it over here in an armored car. Otherwise, the mice get to the food, and I open a package of empty wrappers. Seriously. No crumbs, just wrappers. It’s the saddest moment I have ever lived through – picture it - so excited to open a package from a loved one, I see the oreos and scream, only to find the packaging chewed open and every last crumb of oreo gone. Sniff, sniff.

pps - FISH HEADS!

The Update. Life is BUSY!

Hey everyone! I returned from Kankan safely, after a few days of partying American style and talking on the phone. That’s all I did the whole time. Partied and talked. Sometimes I even did them at the same time. What a weekend, huh? I will post pictures some time next week when I get to a computer that has anything better than Windows 98 and a crap internet connection.

By far the best part of the weekend was talking to Reid. I didn’t realize how much I missed him, and how hard life is without him. Although site is perfect, it would be perfect-er with him here. Luckily, after many hours of talking on the phone, we worked out a plan to see each other NEXT WEEK in Conakry. I will have to be there for a meeting, and we are both allowed to take our quarterly visits there. So, one week from tomorrow, I will get to see Reid! I absolutely can’t wait to see him – I am worried that I am not going to be able to leave him again and come back to site after our visit.

Ok, enough of the mushy, love stuff. I know that’s not why you people come and read my blog. Here’s something else to chew on….

Things are going well in the hottest part of the hottest part of Guinea, although my health has had some major threats recently. I have battled dysentary (thankfully it’s not the hookworm that Keelin has), and I am currently battling an annoying staph infection because I scratched my mosquito bites. People warned me, I knew it would happen, but scratching the bites just felt so good! It wasn’t worth it though – I know now – because staph is no fun, believe me. My cuts aren’t healing, and my lymph nodes are swollen and sore. The most annoying part is the fly issue. All of my open, unhealing wounds attract flies like nothing else, even though they are covered by band-aids! I seriously feel like one of those starving African kids with flies all over their bodies that you see in charity ads on TV, although I don’t have an extended belly or anything – just the flies. This is a lesson for everybody – don’t scratch your mosquito bites or flies will never leave you alone and staph is no fun.

Anyway….coming back to site a couple days ago was difficult. Kinda like returning to work after a long vacation at the beach. I just felt unmotivated and lost. When the PC vehicle drove off, I nearly cried. I didn’t want to be back in Siguiri, even though it has treated me so well. But since Tuesday, I have tried to get back into the groove of things. I had a fingernail painting party with the girls in my neighborhood, I have spent time reading with Aisha, I visited Aliou (our SED trainer), and I have gotten back to work at ADRA. Things are slowly falling back into place.

Today and tomorrow are devoted to getting a rough draft of the Food for Progress grant together. Ask me more about it if you are interested. It is super exciting, but it may only be super exciting to me because I am a nerd. Saturday, I am biking the 3 hour trip to Niandankoro to pick up my stove that should be at Melinda’s and then biking the three hours back. It will be a day full of sunscreen, chugging water, and sore derriers from the bike seat! Sunday, I am heading up to St Alexi with Rob to introduce him to the gardening groupement and eat chicken. They gave me a chicken last week, but I wasn’t sure what to do with it, so I told them to keep it and we can prepare it and eat it together! Seriously, was I going to bike home 3km with a chicken strapped to my handlebars? Maybe next time. On Monday, I am going to do a grand tour of town with the president of the Federation, Bangali. We are going to do “how are you doing” visits to all of the groupement members I have worked with so far. It’s basically just to say hi and to show that I am still invested in our work together. I am really looking forward to it, although I know it is going to be exhausting. Finally, I have Tuesday to myself. I have so much stuff to get done – laundry, packing, cleaning, etc – before my trip to Conakry. And Tuesday looks like it is going to be my first day off since Kankan, and my last day before Conakry. The next day, I am off to Kankan to get to Dabola to get to Conakry. Yes, it is a two and a half day trip to Conakry. You can make it faster, but there is a PC car passing through Dabola which will pick me up there, and there arent daily cars to Dabola from here, so it turned into a 3 day trip. Living in the northenmost prefecture of the easternmost province rules.

I am quite the busy young lady, aren’t I? Who ever thought my Peace Corps experience would be so busy that I wouldn’t have time to read or write letters or get bored?

Just Cultural Differences or Right vs. Wrong?

Yesterday, the most horrible thing happened. Although it has happened before, yesterday was the worst. Djenebou, my favorite young girl in my host-family, lost her shoes and had to come home without them. Her mother got upset, so, as usual, Djenbou was slapped and hit. But yesterday was different. Djenebou’s mother went crazy – beating her mercilessly in our concession, in the open, under our mango tree. I stepped in and yelled that it was not right to hit a child and finally Djenebou’s mother stopped. After it was over, a couple of my family members and I spoke in broken french and malinke about child abuse. They don’t see it as child abuse. I said that in America, it is not right to hit your children, and Adama replied by saying that Guinean children don’t listen, even when you yell. So, you have to hit them. I tried to explain the punishment approach. If Djenebou looses her shoes, she won’t be allowed to go outside the concession for three days or she won’t be allowed to do this or that. I don’t know how much my family actually liked the idea, but maybe after time, it will catch on, taking the place of physical abuse. I don’t know. But all I can say is that I am trying. I know it’s just a cultural difference that I should learn to accept, but I just can’t. Now, the communication lines are open, and we can maybe talk about it some more.

Tomorrow, I am heading to Kankan with Keelin, Rob, and my counterpart, Fodé. Although I have been very very happy at site, during those moments of lonliness, isolation, and boredom, I have been dreaming of Kankan. A month ago, it seemed so far away, but now it’s here and I can’t wait. I will get to see my fellow volunteers to see how everyone likes site; I will get to eat Mexican food; I will get to eat chicken; I will get to party (Haute-style) for Cinco de Mayo; I will get to talk to my mom and Reid on the phone (knock on wood); and I get to relax and only work if I want to.

I can’t believe that only a month ago, I was arriving at site. I was terrified, not knowing how I would eat without the Kouyaté family in Forecariah to feed me. I wasn’t sure how I would start work or how to find my way around town or how to do anything. Now, I am settled in nicely (although I still don’t have my griage or furniture). I have fallen in love with Siguiri, and I am kind of sad to know that I am not going to be sleeping in my bed for the next few nights.

I really can't wait to see how everyone has been doing at site. I hope we all made it through and plan to stay!

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!

Don't Cry for Me Forecariah!

Hello again from Conakry! We left Forecariah today, after many parties and many tears. This morning, when I came out for breakfast, my host mom, Aminata, was cooking rice and crying. She said she didn’t want me to go. I really had the best family possible – I could not have asked for more. After the Farewell Ceremony, there were more tears, as I hugged to Kouyates good-bye. Mory, my SED trainer, kept reminding me that I will see them in a year when we return to Forecariah to help out with Stage again, and although that helps a bit, I was still not ready to say Au Revoir.

But now, we are all in Conakry, living it up. Air-conditioning, cold beers, papayas, schwarma, etc. On Friday, I will officially become a volunteer, during a HUGE PC Guinea ceremony – 45th Anniversary for Peace Corps and 20 consistent years for PC Guinea. It’s a big deal around these here parts, enough to repaint the entire PC Guinea compound in Conakry, if that tells you anything. It’s kinda like in Europe when a city becomes Europe’s cultural capital for the year, they power wash all the monuments and have great cultural events. You just gotta make sure you’re there for the right time, just like I am here at the right time in Guinea.

I am so excited to head out to site, although it's going to be VERY hard to leave not only my host family, not only the other Forecarians I love, but also my American friends. Why does Siguiri have to be so far away from everyone?! I know it's right for me, but c'mon - I am basically going to be in Mali!

I will be around email for the next week, as I will be in Conakry and then Kankan. Send emails and comments - I will actually respond punctually this time!

week 9

hello again! wow - talk about a great couple of weeks! since site visit, things have gotten a lot more real> i started truly appreciating how good i have it in Forecariah. sometimes class isnt as stimulating as i would hope, but otherwise, i cant complain. hey, when your life is made of mama Kouyate's beans every night, sitting under the mango tree, going to chez vicky for a beer, and that great moment when your fan turns on halfway through the night bc the current came on, you can't complain, right?

let me recap the last couple weeks. the trip beack to forecariah from kankan was an adventure. it was the most horrible bush taxi ride, full of 2 flat tires, an oil leak, an overheated engine, avoiding the gendarmes, and running out of gas. no kidding. and we ran out of gas about 5 km from kindia, a town with a gas station, and the 6 of us GOT OUT OF THE CAR AND PUSHED. i am serious. picture it - guinea heat, long bush taxi ride, almost home, 6 fotes (white folk) and their guinean driver start pushing a car uphill and then have to chase it down the hill, only to have to push it up the next hill. it must have been a scene. finally, we made it home to forecariah, where we can now laugh about how we had a close brush with true disaster.

since being back in Forecariah, life has been good. i have learned how to incorporate more protein into my african diet, which inclusdes a sardine sandwich with cucumbers, onions and garlic a couple times a week. this past weekend was perfect - let me tell you about it. friday night, we had a perfectly guinea-ed down PC party. Saturday, i spent the day under my family's mango tree with reid. and on sunday, i had the perfect date. my man killed me a chicken, and we had a chicken and potato dinner with lots and lots of piment (see pictures). talk about the good life. i am apparently not allowed to take part in the whole chicken killing thing - it's not a woman's place, but Reid did a wonderful job, and i ate well for the evening.

this week has been just some more chilling in forecariah. hanging out at the kouyate house, meeting my new APCD, who seems chill, and preparing for the PCT talent show. you can see pictures of the talent show on the flickr site also.

hope all is well with everyone who is reading this. i love you guys and miss you tons.

i will be in touch again soon!

back to Forecariah

heading back to Forecariah tomorrow morning at 5am. another loooong day riding across the country in the bush taxi. my site visit has been perfect - i have fallen in love with haute, and i have bonded with my fellow hauters. life is good and only going to get better.

i will be away from phones/email/functioning post office for the next month or so, so wish me luck with my last 5 weeks of stage. i will talk to you all soon.

lots of love,

aim

comment noted

and then deleted. i doubt tuna or tampons will affect my cultural exchange.

thanks for stopping by.

wish list updated

I am actually finding that Guinea has NONE of the products that I was told they would have! Life here is going very well, but our dependance on certain things is starting to wear on all of us.

here is some stuff i need, some stuff i crave, and some other stuff that would just make me smile:

cereal - oatmeal squares and kashi
parmesan cheese
junk food
TUNA pouches
hot sauce
red pepper flakes
trail mix
wheat thins
dry pasta sauce mix
oreos
spices
gum
granola bars - cliff!

shampoo
deodorant (dove)
tampons
ziplock bags and tupperware
face wash (oil free)
crystal salt deodorant stick - i'd like to try it

old magazines
duct tape
a hug

and here is my address in Guinea:

Amy Klein
Corps de la Paix Americain
BP 1927
Conakry, Guinea
West Africa

Last days of site visit

I walked 2 hours towards Mali on Tuesday night with Fode. We passed baobab trees and cows and many mosques. On our way back into Siguiri, as the sun was couche-ing, we heard the call to prayer. It was the perfect evening, even though I stepped in goat poo, got called “tubabu” 36 times, and tripped over a mango tree root. It will be the perfect bike route once I move here – I have decided to make it all the way to Bamako one day!

Yesterday was the perfect Africa day as well – I took a pirogue (a large canoe) across the Niger from Tiguiberi to Kiniebakoro to visit Rob. We got to see part of the Fete de Conde, where men dress up in straw outfits and flashy masks and chase children around town to the beat of Malinke drumming. The pirogue across the Niger was the most peaceful time I have had here in country. It was exactly as I pictured my life here to be. And the baobab sitting up on the high bank on the Kinibakoro side was the perfect “bienvenu” for us.

Now that I have been to site, I am finding it hard to think of going back to Forecariah. I think it’s because I am scared of forming closer relationships with the stagieres who are heading elsewhere in Guinea. I don’t know how often I will leave haute – I don’t know if there is any reason to ever leave – it’s perfect here. I guess I will leave only to see my friends in the Fouta. I am going to miss them so much.

But I am going to put this thought out of my mind and return to Forecariah not afraid, not already saying goodbye. I hope everyone else will do the same. Either way, this last month with my 37 Americans is going to be….. ummm…. it is going to be.