I am no longer a Peace Corps volunteer. I had waited so long to become a PCV, and now it's over. In a flash, it all disappeared. I finished up medical yesterday, my DOS and everything else today. And then I said good-bye to all of my amazing friends here. Now, I wait for my bus. It's over.
At least I have something good to look forward to. Slowly, we have been worki ng back towards the developed world. First we upgraded from Guinea to Mali. Tonight, I am flying from Bamako to Morocco with Reid and Sarah for 12 days. Another step up. After that, Reid and I are off to Spain for 10 days of so. And then, home to Denver.
I am not sure if I am ready for it or not.
But a good shower and comfy bed sure does sound nice. It's been quite a year.
Wednesday, February 21
Sunday, February 18
Take a Peek
The following statement comes from Omali Yeshitela, Chairman of the Interim Committee of the African Socialist International (ASI). The ASI has as its historical mission the unification and liberation of Africa under an all-African socialist government under the leadership of the African working class and poor peasantry. The ASI calls on all who receive this document to forward it to as many contacts as possible and distribute it around the world in order to lend support to the just struggles on the ground in Guinea-Conakry, West Africa.
http://www.indybay.org/newsitems/2007/02/16/18364399.php
Discuss amongst yourselves.....
http://www.indybay.org/newsitems/2007/02/16/18364399.php
Discuss amongst yourselves.....
Tuesday, February 13
Martial Law Declared
Guinea's military enforce martial law to end unrest
By Mohamed Camara CONAKRY, Feb 13 (Reuters)
Guinea's military clamped a security lock on the capital Conakry and other towns on Tuesday after President Lansana Conte declared martial law in the West African state to stamp out violent protests against his rule.
Heavily armed soldiers and police patrolled the largely deserted streets of the dilapidated seaside capital, enforcing a strict curfew that will only allow people out of their homes for four hours, between 4 p.m. and 8 p.m. Residents said they saw truckloads of helmeted troops in camouflage fatigues heading out of the city. Other major towns, such as Kankan and Nzerekore in the east, were also reported to be under tight military control.
"There is heavy deployment of soldiers at crossroads, controls have been stepped up," said one Conakry resident, who asked not to be named. Conte went on state TV and radio on Monday night to announce the military crackdown, which will last until Feb. 23. It was aimed at quelling a wave of riots and looting across the country that accompanied the relaunch by unions on Monday of a general strike opposing the president's 23-year rule.
Union leaders say Conte, a reclusive, chain-smoking diabetic in his 70s, is no longer fit to rule Guinea, the world's No. 1 exporter of bauxite. Foreign-run bauxite mining operations have been disrupted by the strike and protests. At least nine people were killed in clashes between protesters and security forces on Monday.
This brought to more than 110 the number of people killed since early January in union-led protests against Conte. The martial law decree gives sweeping powers to the military, which has backed Conte since he took over in a 1984 coup, to arrest anyone suspected of threatening state security.
The measures also forbid all public meetings and empower the military to censor newspapers and all radio and television broadcasts. The army can also monitor private communications, such as telephone calls, faxes and emails.
PERSECUTION FEARS
Union and opposition leaders said they were being watched and feared persecution. "There's no mediation right now. We're on the look-out because in a state of siege, the only order is military order ... we're all under surveillance at home," said union negotiator Ousmane Souare.
Unions resumed the nationwide stoppage after Conte named a close ally, Eugene Camara, as prime minister on Friday. Union leaders said this violated a power-sharing deal to end an 18-day strike last month which left more than 90 people dead and tested Conte's grip on power. Opposition leaders said they did not believe the declaration of martial law would stifle the popular pressure for change.
"Either Conte leaves or he names someone else. If he names someone and the people accept, things will calm down," said one political opponent, Mamadou Ba. "I don't think he realises that the crisis needs to be resolved through dialogue," he added. State TV and radio played music and repeated excerpts of the martial law decree announced by Conte, who wore a white robe and white cap during his broadcast.
Conakry residents said the sound of heavy gunfire was heard overnight coming from the November 8 highway bridge that leads into the city's administrative centre. It was not clear what caused the shooting.
By Mohamed Camara CONAKRY, Feb 13 (Reuters)
Guinea's military clamped a security lock on the capital Conakry and other towns on Tuesday after President Lansana Conte declared martial law in the West African state to stamp out violent protests against his rule.
Heavily armed soldiers and police patrolled the largely deserted streets of the dilapidated seaside capital, enforcing a strict curfew that will only allow people out of their homes for four hours, between 4 p.m. and 8 p.m. Residents said they saw truckloads of helmeted troops in camouflage fatigues heading out of the city. Other major towns, such as Kankan and Nzerekore in the east, were also reported to be under tight military control.
"There is heavy deployment of soldiers at crossroads, controls have been stepped up," said one Conakry resident, who asked not to be named. Conte went on state TV and radio on Monday night to announce the military crackdown, which will last until Feb. 23. It was aimed at quelling a wave of riots and looting across the country that accompanied the relaunch by unions on Monday of a general strike opposing the president's 23-year rule.
Union leaders say Conte, a reclusive, chain-smoking diabetic in his 70s, is no longer fit to rule Guinea, the world's No. 1 exporter of bauxite. Foreign-run bauxite mining operations have been disrupted by the strike and protests. At least nine people were killed in clashes between protesters and security forces on Monday.
This brought to more than 110 the number of people killed since early January in union-led protests against Conte. The martial law decree gives sweeping powers to the military, which has backed Conte since he took over in a 1984 coup, to arrest anyone suspected of threatening state security.
The measures also forbid all public meetings and empower the military to censor newspapers and all radio and television broadcasts. The army can also monitor private communications, such as telephone calls, faxes and emails.
PERSECUTION FEARS
Union and opposition leaders said they were being watched and feared persecution. "There's no mediation right now. We're on the look-out because in a state of siege, the only order is military order ... we're all under surveillance at home," said union negotiator Ousmane Souare.
Unions resumed the nationwide stoppage after Conte named a close ally, Eugene Camara, as prime minister on Friday. Union leaders said this violated a power-sharing deal to end an 18-day strike last month which left more than 90 people dead and tested Conte's grip on power. Opposition leaders said they did not believe the declaration of martial law would stifle the popular pressure for change.
"Either Conte leaves or he names someone else. If he names someone and the people accept, things will calm down," said one political opponent, Mamadou Ba. "I don't think he realises that the crisis needs to be resolved through dialogue," he added. State TV and radio played music and repeated excerpts of the martial law decree announced by Conte, who wore a white robe and white cap during his broadcast.
Conakry residents said the sound of heavy gunfire was heard overnight coming from the November 8 highway bridge that leads into the city's administrative centre. It was not clear what caused the shooting.
Saturday, February 10
Guinea in Flames
Last night, the president, Lansana Conte, finally named a new prime minister for Guinea. His choice was Eugene Camara, a long-time friend of his who will never question his actions or actually assert any power. This is basically a slap in the face of the Guinean population, and the people are pissed. Apparently, they are out in the streets again, ready to die for change.
Today, the violence has been worse than the bad day two weeks ago. We are hearing reports of people dying all across the country. I have heard that the people of Siguiri have ransacked the house of the Minster of Finance (who is from my town), people burned a soldier alive who had shot four people in Kankan, and the president's entourage killed a young boy on their way to his hometown.
Doesn't look like we're going back....
BBCNews Article from TodayToday, the violence has been worse than the bad day two weeks ago. We are hearing reports of people dying all across the country. I have heard that the people of Siguiri have ransacked the house of the Minster of Finance (who is from my town), people burned a soldier alive who had shot four people in Kankan, and the president's entourage killed a young boy on their way to his hometown.
Doesn't look like we're going back....
Conakry, 2 weeks ago
"We are ready to die for change."
Wednesday, February 7
Mudcropolis
I am not sure if I am happy or not to be back in the simulated village of Tubaniso outside of Bamako.
Our trip to Djenne and Mopti was amazing, tiring, beautiful, annoying, energizing, and everything in between. On Friday morning, we left before dawn to catch a bus up the main paved road in Mali to the junction with the road to Djenne. This was a novelty to me because in Guinea, we don’t have anything but taxis (painful) and mini-buses (more painful). We were so excited to have our own seats in a bus and be on the road by 7:30, we didn’t realize there was absolutely NO VENTILATION. We were seriously trapped in a moving steamer for 10 hours traveling towards the Sahara. I think I would have preferred a camel. But we made it to the junction and got off the bus (the bus almost drove away with Reid still on) and waited for a couple of hours for our taxi to leave for Djenne. I learned that taxis are just as ghetto here as they are in Guinea when Reid and I stuffed in to share the front seat, but halfway to Djenne, the door flew open and Reid almost fell out. Yay, Africa.
We arrived before sundown, found a hotel, ate, and settled in. We woke up early the next morning for our grand 3 hour tour of the desert town. Djenne is a town made completely out of mudstone, lots of mudstone, and when you walk around, you truly feel transported back in time. Their mosque, the largest mudstone structure in the world, was huge and very impressive. Unfortunately, we “couldn’t” go inside (we could have if we paid the right person enough money), but the architecture was astounding. Guinea has nothing like it. In the afternoon, we took a horse cart out to a Peul village and a Bozo village to see more amazing mud structures and be harassed by more annoying children.
The next day, we took a minibus (more painful) to Mopti, a large port town along the Niger River. This is where the salt arrives from Timbuktu, which of course, made me the happiest person ever. I am officially obsessed with the desert and the camel caravans that transport salt and other goods. The salt has been mined from dried lakes in the Sahara for centuries and transported on the camel caravans to Timbuktu and then sent via boat along the Niger to Mopti. And there I stood, watching boats arrive from Timbuktu unloading slabs of salt. I tasted one. It was a huge dirty chunk of pure salt from the Sahara, transported for hundreds of miles via camel caravan and the river. Guess what it tasted like. Salty. But what an amazing trip that piece of salt made!
Our return trip to Bamako was similarly hot, sweaty, but fast. After a loooong trip to see some mud and taste some salt, I was glad to return back to hot baths and good (free) food. But this week, we are starting our In-Service Training, which means I am going to be sitting in 100 degree heat being trained on things that I may never be able to put into practice if we don’t go back to Guinea. Sounds like fun?
We still don’t know anything about returning to Guinea or transferring somewhere else. We are all just waiting some more, which is a bit painful, but I always said Peace Corps was going to teach me patience (and I'm alright as long as I keep getting per diem!). I will keep you guys updated as new information arrives.
Our trip to Djenne and Mopti was amazing, tiring, beautiful, annoying, energizing, and everything in between. On Friday morning, we left before dawn to catch a bus up the main paved road in Mali to the junction with the road to Djenne. This was a novelty to me because in Guinea, we don’t have anything but taxis (painful) and mini-buses (more painful). We were so excited to have our own seats in a bus and be on the road by 7:30, we didn’t realize there was absolutely NO VENTILATION. We were seriously trapped in a moving steamer for 10 hours traveling towards the Sahara. I think I would have preferred a camel. But we made it to the junction and got off the bus (the bus almost drove away with Reid still on) and waited for a couple of hours for our taxi to leave for Djenne. I learned that taxis are just as ghetto here as they are in Guinea when Reid and I stuffed in to share the front seat, but halfway to Djenne, the door flew open and Reid almost fell out. Yay, Africa.
We arrived before sundown, found a hotel, ate, and settled in. We woke up early the next morning for our grand 3 hour tour of the desert town. Djenne is a town made completely out of mudstone, lots of mudstone, and when you walk around, you truly feel transported back in time. Their mosque, the largest mudstone structure in the world, was huge and very impressive. Unfortunately, we “couldn’t” go inside (we could have if we paid the right person enough money), but the architecture was astounding. Guinea has nothing like it. In the afternoon, we took a horse cart out to a Peul village and a Bozo village to see more amazing mud structures and be harassed by more annoying children.
The next day, we took a minibus (more painful) to Mopti, a large port town along the Niger River. This is where the salt arrives from Timbuktu, which of course, made me the happiest person ever. I am officially obsessed with the desert and the camel caravans that transport salt and other goods. The salt has been mined from dried lakes in the Sahara for centuries and transported on the camel caravans to Timbuktu and then sent via boat along the Niger to Mopti. And there I stood, watching boats arrive from Timbuktu unloading slabs of salt. I tasted one. It was a huge dirty chunk of pure salt from the Sahara, transported for hundreds of miles via camel caravan and the river. Guess what it tasted like. Salty. But what an amazing trip that piece of salt made!
Our return trip to Bamako was similarly hot, sweaty, but fast. After a loooong trip to see some mud and taste some salt, I was glad to return back to hot baths and good (free) food. But this week, we are starting our In-Service Training, which means I am going to be sitting in 100 degree heat being trained on things that I may never be able to put into practice if we don’t go back to Guinea. Sounds like fun?
We still don’t know anything about returning to Guinea or transferring somewhere else. We are all just waiting some more, which is a bit painful, but I always said Peace Corps was going to teach me patience (and I'm alright as long as I keep getting per diem!). I will keep you guys updated as new information arrives.
Thursday, February 1
Update from the Sahel
It's hot, sunny, and deathly dry. Oh no! Where's my chapstick and water bottle? Looks like I must still be in the deserts of Mali.
After weeks of hell, my mom flew home out of Bamako on Tuesday morning, returning safely to America, where she can drink the water and not fear for her life. Since then, I have been hanging out at the training center (Tubaniso) where they are housing all of the Guinea refugee volunteers. The training center is a faux Malian village – with huts and latrines, but also running water, good food, and electricity. It’s very confusing – am I in Africa or am I in a simulation of an Africa village at some amusement park? Should I say good morning in English, French, Malinke, or Bambara? How do they get such fresh and delicious vegetables in the desert? I am so confused....
I have resigned to my fate - none of those questions matter. It's weird, but it will work.
Since arriving on Tuesday, we have also been doing a lot of nothing around here, although I have been going into Bamako from here to enjoy good restaurants and shopping. I can’t tell you how nice it is to not worry about anything right now. My mind is clear, and I think I am slowly starting to process all that has happened.
The most popular topic of conversation around these here parts has been "what are we going to do?" "Are we going back to Guinea?" I put my money on not going back ($25 dollars in fact, which ain't no chump change here). In order for us to go back, Peace Corps says they have to feel confident that they can take care of us and not worry about this happening again. But change in Guinea occurs slowly…. this is likely to happen again. "So, what if we don’t go back?" We can either accept the end of our Peace Corps experience with an “Interrupted Service” or we can transfer to a choice of countries for one more year or two (depending on the requirements of the country). “So, what are you thinking about doing?” has truly been the question of the week. There are many who are thinking about going back to the US. There are many that are excited to go somewhere else. I, myself, am not sure about that. Honestly, I am only sure about one thing – I want to go back to Siguiri.
But before we find out, there is a lot of waiting time. We have to see how things fall back into place in Conakry and across the country. I am going to try to make the most of my waiting time by traveling through Mali as much as PC will allow. Tomorrow, I am heading to Djenne for the weekend, where there is the largest mud brick structure in the world. I am so excited to see this country, and I am happy to be doing it without taking vacation time!
After this short trip, I am heading back to the training site for an In Service Training (IST), where we will try to stay on top of our work (whether we return to it or not). Hopefully once IST is done, I will be on the road again seeing the rest of Mali, all the while, waiting to hear that we are cleared to return home to Guinea.
After weeks of hell, my mom flew home out of Bamako on Tuesday morning, returning safely to America, where she can drink the water and not fear for her life. Since then, I have been hanging out at the training center (Tubaniso) where they are housing all of the Guinea refugee volunteers. The training center is a faux Malian village – with huts and latrines, but also running water, good food, and electricity. It’s very confusing – am I in Africa or am I in a simulation of an Africa village at some amusement park? Should I say good morning in English, French, Malinke, or Bambara? How do they get such fresh and delicious vegetables in the desert? I am so confused....
I have resigned to my fate - none of those questions matter. It's weird, but it will work.
Since arriving on Tuesday, we have also been doing a lot of nothing around here, although I have been going into Bamako from here to enjoy good restaurants and shopping. I can’t tell you how nice it is to not worry about anything right now. My mind is clear, and I think I am slowly starting to process all that has happened.
The most popular topic of conversation around these here parts has been "what are we going to do?" "Are we going back to Guinea?" I put my money on not going back ($25 dollars in fact, which ain't no chump change here). In order for us to go back, Peace Corps says they have to feel confident that they can take care of us and not worry about this happening again. But change in Guinea occurs slowly…. this is likely to happen again. "So, what if we don’t go back?" We can either accept the end of our Peace Corps experience with an “Interrupted Service” or we can transfer to a choice of countries for one more year or two (depending on the requirements of the country). “So, what are you thinking about doing?” has truly been the question of the week. There are many who are thinking about going back to the US. There are many that are excited to go somewhere else. I, myself, am not sure about that. Honestly, I am only sure about one thing – I want to go back to Siguiri.
But before we find out, there is a lot of waiting time. We have to see how things fall back into place in Conakry and across the country. I am going to try to make the most of my waiting time by traveling through Mali as much as PC will allow. Tomorrow, I am heading to Djenne for the weekend, where there is the largest mud brick structure in the world. I am so excited to see this country, and I am happy to be doing it without taking vacation time!
After this short trip, I am heading back to the training site for an In Service Training (IST), where we will try to stay on top of our work (whether we return to it or not). Hopefully once IST is done, I will be on the road again seeing the rest of Mali, all the while, waiting to hear that we are cleared to return home to Guinea.
Tuesday, January 30
First Trip to the Market
Journal Entry from January 23rd, 2007
Siguiri, Guinea
At sunrise on the day after the chaos, right after the first prayer call of the day, gunfire rang constantly for nearly an hour. But by 9:30, the gunfire had all but ceased.
The military had set up a very visible and intimidating blockade about 50 yards from my front door to protect the police commissioner (the man the people had vowed to kill). I always thought I'd be safe living so close to the police station. But yesterday and today, it was the hottest spot in town.
Haidja came to my door and said it was safe to go to the market. She asked me if I wanted to go with her and the 3 other women in my concession. I said I was scared. She said it was fine - no more gunfire - and that we were going as a group. I agreed reluctantly, letting my curiosity override my natural instinct to go inside and hide.
So we left together but took a different route to the market - a much longer walk just to avoid the police station in between my home and the market. Along the road, there were smouldering piles of ash - remnants of the burning tires and chaos of the day before. As Jeff said, days later, Siguiri looked like a warzone.
I was terrified, especially as we passed the military men armed with automatic weapons. The women of my family made fun of me for being scared, but you could tell they were scared too. To calm us all, we walked arm-in-arm, protecting one another from anything that might happen. We walked down the deserted streets charred with yesterday's anger, hearing distant gunfire along the way.
I think I might have been certifiably insane for making the decision to go.
We reached the main road, which was eerily deserted, and crossed over to the market area. No need to avoid motos and trucks and cyclists - nobody was out except a few vendors. A block from the main road, women were out selling eggplant, rice, oil, leaves, and other Guinean essentials cramped into two or three blocks. The area was packed with women, everyone a little rushed and jumpy from the day before.
I wasn't really sure why I came. I didn't really need food. My knees were wobbly with fright the entire time. I kept looking for open doors to run into if the shooting started again. I was incredibly paranoid and anxious, and my heart raced the entire time. Being in a crowd amplified the fear, and I felt incredibly claustrophobic. I wanted to go home, but we weren't done shopping yet. And I wasn't going to walk home alone. I almost lost my family in the crowd and tears filled my eyes from the fear of being left behind. This all happened in a place I knew so well. A place I had visited everyday for a year. Now I was incapable of functioning.
But my family took care of me, and we made it home safely. As I approached my door, I saw Rob inside and screamed for joy/relief and began to cry. It had been a stressful 24 hours. But the worst was over, and the three of us were safely inside my concession once again.
Siguiri, Guinea
At sunrise on the day after the chaos, right after the first prayer call of the day, gunfire rang constantly for nearly an hour. But by 9:30, the gunfire had all but ceased.
The military had set up a very visible and intimidating blockade about 50 yards from my front door to protect the police commissioner (the man the people had vowed to kill). I always thought I'd be safe living so close to the police station. But yesterday and today, it was the hottest spot in town.
Haidja came to my door and said it was safe to go to the market. She asked me if I wanted to go with her and the 3 other women in my concession. I said I was scared. She said it was fine - no more gunfire - and that we were going as a group. I agreed reluctantly, letting my curiosity override my natural instinct to go inside and hide.
So we left together but took a different route to the market - a much longer walk just to avoid the police station in between my home and the market. Along the road, there were smouldering piles of ash - remnants of the burning tires and chaos of the day before. As Jeff said, days later, Siguiri looked like a warzone.
I was terrified, especially as we passed the military men armed with automatic weapons. The women of my family made fun of me for being scared, but you could tell they were scared too. To calm us all, we walked arm-in-arm, protecting one another from anything that might happen. We walked down the deserted streets charred with yesterday's anger, hearing distant gunfire along the way.
I think I might have been certifiably insane for making the decision to go.
We reached the main road, which was eerily deserted, and crossed over to the market area. No need to avoid motos and trucks and cyclists - nobody was out except a few vendors. A block from the main road, women were out selling eggplant, rice, oil, leaves, and other Guinean essentials cramped into two or three blocks. The area was packed with women, everyone a little rushed and jumpy from the day before.
I wasn't really sure why I came. I didn't really need food. My knees were wobbly with fright the entire time. I kept looking for open doors to run into if the shooting started again. I was incredibly paranoid and anxious, and my heart raced the entire time. Being in a crowd amplified the fear, and I felt incredibly claustrophobic. I wanted to go home, but we weren't done shopping yet. And I wasn't going to walk home alone. I almost lost my family in the crowd and tears filled my eyes from the fear of being left behind. This all happened in a place I knew so well. A place I had visited everyday for a year. Now I was incapable of functioning.
But my family took care of me, and we made it home safely. As I approached my door, I saw Rob inside and screamed for joy/relief and began to cry. It had been a stressful 24 hours. But the worst was over, and the three of us were safely inside my concession once again.
Thursday, January 25
Journal Entry, January 23rd
It’s 5:30 am and I can’t sleep. Siguiri is silent. I am trying to figure out how to say goodbye.
Yesterday was the day I thought would never happen. I always thought Siguiri was safe and that all people cared about was earning money (not political unrest). I never thought they would actually join in the chaos.
But when I woke up yesterday (our 11th day of standfast), there was a strange electricity in the air. I knew something was wrong, but without knowing exactly what, I instinctively packed my evacuation bag in a frenzy. But when I was done, things were fine – both here and in Conakry, as my APCD told me. So, I started my day as normal. My mom made tea and ate bread. I pulled water from the well. I got beans from my bean lady. I showered. I walked to visit the patriarch of my family, El Hadj.
But the electricity was still there, and everyone felt it. I asked El Hadj about the strike and he answered, “people are going to die today.”
I returned nervous to my house and waited for my fellow volunteer, Rob, to show up, as he had been doing everyday during standfast. I stood by the front gate of my family’s concession and watched for him. He was late.
Then I saw the black smoke and smelled burning rubber. The people of Siguiri had started to protest by marching and burning tires near the market. My family was happy and everyone was dancing in the streets (so typically Malinke). “The strike is working!” they sang.
The protestors had blocked the main streets of the market and a truck was diverted up my dirt street from the paved road to get around the chaos. The people cheered at their own success as the truck passed. Then the women coming back from the market began to run. They were running home with giant baskets balanced on their heads. “What are they hurrying away from?” I asked my family, standing at the door to my concession. But they were too happy to respond.
But where was Rob? I was still watching for him to arrive. “He must have seen the smoke and turned back,” I thought rationally, but I was still worried. What if Rob never made it in today? What about tomorrow? Would he be stranded in Kinniebakoro, or would my mom and I be stranded alone in Siguiri?
Still standing at the gate, I heard my first round of distant gunfire. It was far away, but still frightening. And then we heard a closer round. Too close. Everyone fled the streets. My family and I ran inside and shut and locked the gate. It had begun.
My mom was inside trying to stay calm. We knew it was safe in my house with my family, but the loud gunfire nearby still shook us. My knees wouldn’t really hold me up, and my hands were shaking. The children were terrified and all I could imagine were my friends out there, possibly dying in the streets.
My mom pulled out the Scrabble board, our trusted distraction these last few days, and we tried to play. “Any word related to revolution, 50 extra points,” I joked. B-A-N-G was one of our words as the gunfire continued ceaselessly around my home.
After a couple of hours, it slowed down. 2 people had been killed, the city had been ravaged, and everyone was still scared.
Right before sunset, Haidja was going to try to go to the market. We hadn’t heard anything in hours, and some people were out on the streets again. Everything seemed calm, so I decided to go with her. On our way out the door, we heard gunfire again, so our excursion was cancelled and we went back to safety.
It had been a stressful day, but it did finally quiet down. My mom and I were processing all that had happened, when the phone rang. “You know the trip we were planning for your birthday to Mali?” Reid asked. “We might be going a bit sooner than expected.” My body tightened up, my throat closed, and tears filled my eyes. “How early?” I asked. “Maybe Wednesday or Thursday,” he answered. We were to be evacuated.
I have packed my bag already. I am ready to go. I just don’t know how I am going to tell my family.
It is still dark outside. The first prayer call of the morning has been shouted from the mosque. And the gunfire has already started. Probably to scare people. To keep them inside today. I don’t want to leave my life here, but right now, I am not sure I can make it through another day like yesterday.
And I am still not sure where Rob is.
Yesterday was the day I thought would never happen. I always thought Siguiri was safe and that all people cared about was earning money (not political unrest). I never thought they would actually join in the chaos.
But when I woke up yesterday (our 11th day of standfast), there was a strange electricity in the air. I knew something was wrong, but without knowing exactly what, I instinctively packed my evacuation bag in a frenzy. But when I was done, things were fine – both here and in Conakry, as my APCD told me. So, I started my day as normal. My mom made tea and ate bread. I pulled water from the well. I got beans from my bean lady. I showered. I walked to visit the patriarch of my family, El Hadj.
But the electricity was still there, and everyone felt it. I asked El Hadj about the strike and he answered, “people are going to die today.”
I returned nervous to my house and waited for my fellow volunteer, Rob, to show up, as he had been doing everyday during standfast. I stood by the front gate of my family’s concession and watched for him. He was late.
Then I saw the black smoke and smelled burning rubber. The people of Siguiri had started to protest by marching and burning tires near the market. My family was happy and everyone was dancing in the streets (so typically Malinke). “The strike is working!” they sang.
The protestors had blocked the main streets of the market and a truck was diverted up my dirt street from the paved road to get around the chaos. The people cheered at their own success as the truck passed. Then the women coming back from the market began to run. They were running home with giant baskets balanced on their heads. “What are they hurrying away from?” I asked my family, standing at the door to my concession. But they were too happy to respond.
But where was Rob? I was still watching for him to arrive. “He must have seen the smoke and turned back,” I thought rationally, but I was still worried. What if Rob never made it in today? What about tomorrow? Would he be stranded in Kinniebakoro, or would my mom and I be stranded alone in Siguiri?
Still standing at the gate, I heard my first round of distant gunfire. It was far away, but still frightening. And then we heard a closer round. Too close. Everyone fled the streets. My family and I ran inside and shut and locked the gate. It had begun.
My mom was inside trying to stay calm. We knew it was safe in my house with my family, but the loud gunfire nearby still shook us. My knees wouldn’t really hold me up, and my hands were shaking. The children were terrified and all I could imagine were my friends out there, possibly dying in the streets.
My mom pulled out the Scrabble board, our trusted distraction these last few days, and we tried to play. “Any word related to revolution, 50 extra points,” I joked. B-A-N-G was one of our words as the gunfire continued ceaselessly around my home.
After a couple of hours, it slowed down. 2 people had been killed, the city had been ravaged, and everyone was still scared.
Right before sunset, Haidja was going to try to go to the market. We hadn’t heard anything in hours, and some people were out on the streets again. Everything seemed calm, so I decided to go with her. On our way out the door, we heard gunfire again, so our excursion was cancelled and we went back to safety.
It had been a stressful day, but it did finally quiet down. My mom and I were processing all that had happened, when the phone rang. “You know the trip we were planning for your birthday to Mali?” Reid asked. “We might be going a bit sooner than expected.” My body tightened up, my throat closed, and tears filled my eyes. “How early?” I asked. “Maybe Wednesday or Thursday,” he answered. We were to be evacuated.
I have packed my bag already. I am ready to go. I just don’t know how I am going to tell my family.
It is still dark outside. The first prayer call of the morning has been shouted from the mosque. And the gunfire has already started. Probably to scare people. To keep them inside today. I don’t want to leave my life here, but right now, I am not sure I can make it through another day like yesterday.
And I am still not sure where Rob is.
Peace Corps Guinea Evacuated
I am writing from Bamako, the capital of Mali, where we have been taken after evacuating Guinea. We (my mom and I) are both safe and very happy to be out of all the chaos of Siguiri. It's been quite a trip for my mom, and honestly, I doubt she will want to come back to Africa, after having a car accident, getting sick, and listening to hours of gunfire outside of my house. But we are safe now, so don't worry.
Here's a little of the story behind why we were evacuated. The labor unions of Guinea called for a general strike to start on the 10th of January, and they asked for the president to step down. Since then, protesters have taken to the streets, and the military has tried to force them back inside. It was violent mostly in the big cities, especially Conakry. In Siguiri, the strike was quiet until last Monday, when the villagers started to protest, burning tires in the street, diverting traffic, and calling for an end to the opression. The military answered with guns, killing two (one an 11 year old boy). My mother and I were trapped in my house downtown listening to close gunfire all day. On Tuesday things started off with 45 minutes of gunfire at dawn right after prayer call, warning everyone to stay inside all day. So we stayed inside most of the day. Wednesday was back to normal, but today, Thursday, the villagers were calling for more protests and a group of men were calling for the death of the police commissioner, who had killed the little boy. Luckily, though, we didn't have to stay in Siguiri for that. Peace Corps showed up at my door at 7am to evacuate the upper region of Guinea. The rest of the volunteers will be evacuated tomorrow and Saturday. Negotiations between the president and the unions are continuing, but we shall see...
Truly, it has been great to feel safe and secure here in Mali. We are hoping to get my mom on a plane sooner than expected so she can safely get back to America. I, on the other hand, will hang out in Mali to decompress and hope for a safe return to Guinea after the violence is over. It's been a rough couple of weeks, but things are fine now and everyone is safe. Thank goodness.
I will have access to email daily, so please feel free to write and expect a response shortly.
I miss you all and hope to talk to you soon.
And please send prayers/happy thoughts to my family and friends in Guinea. They are stuck there in the midst of all of this without Peace Corps to take them to safety. Let us all hope Guinea returns to calm before too many other people are hurt.
Here's a little of the story behind why we were evacuated. The labor unions of Guinea called for a general strike to start on the 10th of January, and they asked for the president to step down. Since then, protesters have taken to the streets, and the military has tried to force them back inside. It was violent mostly in the big cities, especially Conakry. In Siguiri, the strike was quiet until last Monday, when the villagers started to protest, burning tires in the street, diverting traffic, and calling for an end to the opression. The military answered with guns, killing two (one an 11 year old boy). My mother and I were trapped in my house downtown listening to close gunfire all day. On Tuesday things started off with 45 minutes of gunfire at dawn right after prayer call, warning everyone to stay inside all day. So we stayed inside most of the day. Wednesday was back to normal, but today, Thursday, the villagers were calling for more protests and a group of men were calling for the death of the police commissioner, who had killed the little boy. Luckily, though, we didn't have to stay in Siguiri for that. Peace Corps showed up at my door at 7am to evacuate the upper region of Guinea. The rest of the volunteers will be evacuated tomorrow and Saturday. Negotiations between the president and the unions are continuing, but we shall see...
Truly, it has been great to feel safe and secure here in Mali. We are hoping to get my mom on a plane sooner than expected so she can safely get back to America. I, on the other hand, will hang out in Mali to decompress and hope for a safe return to Guinea after the violence is over. It's been a rough couple of weeks, but things are fine now and everyone is safe. Thank goodness.
I will have access to email daily, so please feel free to write and expect a response shortly.
I miss you all and hope to talk to you soon.
And please send prayers/happy thoughts to my family and friends in Guinea. They are stuck there in the midst of all of this without Peace Corps to take them to safety. Let us all hope Guinea returns to calm before too many other people are hurt.
Tuesday, December 26
A White Christmas, huh?
Merry Christmas everyone! I am in Conakry (again) after a relatively pain free taxi ride from Kankan. A group of 7 of us Haute volunteers came down to the capital to celebrate Christmas with everyone else in the country, and the house has been full of ex-pat style Christmas spirit ever since we arrived. We have eaten well, exchanged presents and listened to Christmas music with our Peace Corps family for days. It’s strange celebrating a holiday like Christmas in a tropical Muslim country. It’s hot, humid, and there are no decorations anywhere in town! On Christmas Eve, Reid’s host-family knocked on the door and gave us just-knocked-off-the-tree coconuts. I suppose Guineans don't have the recipe for Grandma's Sugar Cookies, huh?
Christmas Eve dinner was spent at our Country Director’s house, but it wasn’t his normal Sunday night football affair with spaghetti. He had cooked us a beef bourgognais, which he had spent days making. Upon finishing the first round of salad, we queued up for the main course. Steve noticed we still had some dressing at the bottoms of our bowls. "You guys can rinse out your bowls if you want," he said. A few people heard and kind of shrugged off his suggestion. "No, you're gonna fuck up my sauce," he semi-jokingly clarified. I suppose after putting so much work into a delicate dish for a gaggle of uncouth Peace Corps volunteers, I would have felt similarly. It was pretty funny. We all realized how unrefined we have become!
After that, Reid and I were exhausted, so we decided to head home. By the time we got home and showered, it was eleven o'clock, so we put on the Motown Christmas CD we borrowed from a friend, opened the bottle of white wine (you know it's a special occasion when I write bottle rather than box), set the alarm clock for midnight, and sat in front of the fan on the couch sipping away. The alarm went off, and we kissed and danced around the living room to Marvin Gaye singing "Purple Snowflake". It was simple and romantic. We wished each other a Merry Christmas, felt lucky to be with each other, and went to bed.
On Christmas morning, I forced Reid to wake up around 8 (he did so begrudgingly), so I could open my presents. Each present from him was wrapped individually and put into a cute stocking. He got me nail polish, good soap, a planner, chocolate, earrings, and drumroll….. A CAN OF HOEGAARDEN BEER! You guys know how much I love that stuff! And he found it here in this country and spent a small fortune on the one can. What an amazing boyfriend, huh?
The rest of the day was spent shopping and cooking. All of our friends were heading to the islands for the day, but Reid and I stayed around, wanting to treat our closest friends to a special holiday dinner. We heard a rumor about a man who raised pigs for the ham-hungry Christian minority, so we got his number and tried to call all day, but of course, the call didn't go through. The plan foiled, and we had to go with plan b: steaks. We found the one grocery store open (We thought no Guineans would close down for a Christian holiday, but, alas, they did.), and we bought the foreign ingredients we needed that are unavailable in local markets here, like Gouda cheese. Then we got in a cab and headed over to the African open-air market by the Peace Corps house. We bought four kilos of meat cut right off the cow. The butcher was so hard at work, I to turn away to avoid catching a bone shard in my eye. He gladly plopped our nearly nine pounds of fresh flesh into a bag, and we continued back to the PC house to start working.
We had the most delectable Christmas dinner. We seared pepper coated, several-inches-thick steaks freshly cut off the still identifiable skinned cow at the market. Then we put them atop sautéed mushrooms and onions that soaked at the bottom of the pan in a red wine marinade. As they cooked, the steaks kept their moisture, became perfectly pink in the middle, and caramelized the onions and mushrooms, while turning the marinade into a yummy gravy perfect for our roasted garlic mashed potatoes whipped with real butter (Real butter may sound like a negligible item to note, but it is a real treat in Guinea where refrigeration is hard to come by). To complement such deliciousness, we steamed julienned green beans and carrots mixed in crushed cashews and butter sauce and mulled red wine with whole cloves, cinnamon, and oranges. We finished off our Peace Corps Christmas feast with a round of savory baked apples cored and stuffed with a melange of Gouda cheese, dates, raisins, butter, then sprinkled with cinnamon. The best part was that dessert had yet to come. Caron and Eldon made a chocolate peanut butter fondue in which we dunked apple, banana, coconut, and pineapple. The whole meal was so delicious, I could barely move afterwards. But the best part was sitting around a table with some of my favorite people, enjoying their company and sharing a special meal together. That’s what the holidays are all about, right? What an amazing Christmas! (and we didn’t have to do dishes!)
Christmas Dinner At the Cky House
I hope you all had an equally enjoyable Christmas, spent enjoying good company, good food, and some surprise presents. Although it’s sad not to be home, I truly do love being here and the holidays have not been as painful as I had expected.
Now, I am going to remain in Conakry for the next couple of weeks to start research on my graduate school paper and work on my projects that need internet. But on January 8th, my mom arrives in country to spend a month with me here in Guinea! I can’t wait – that’s truly the best present ever (sorry, honey, it is even better than a can of Hoegaarden). But I will be around, so please email or call if you get a chance!
ps - thanks, Reid, for helping me write all of this blog entry!
Wednesday, December 13
A Long December?
Since arriving back at site in early December, so much has happened. I was in some sort of a rut before, not getting much work done, and quite honestly, not enjoying Siguiri too much. It was a combination of no work to do and no Reid. But now, things have changed. Life seems balanced and days are passing by with lightening speed. In fact, I am unusually busy for a volunteer. And Reid just got an Areeba cell phone (a new provider), so we can hopefully talk easily and more often.
But really the thing that has changed is that things have really taken off with work. I remember Brad, a fellow PCV said that one day things just fell into place for him and work began to take care of itself. Well, I guess that's what happened to me this December. Here’s all that has happened work wise:
*I have started going to the local APROFIG chapter daily to help teach basic computer skills from Windows to Word and Excel. APROFIG is a local NGO that works for the advancement of young women, and they have set up a computer lab where anyone can sign up for classes and pay $15 or 90,000FG (a lot!) for 2 week courses. We are teaching them how to create folders, drag and drop items, how to open up programs, and how to rename files. It's difficult to teach someone how to use a computer when they have never held a mouse before! How do you explain the difference between a single and a double click... in french? Let me tell you, it's a challenge. But my students are so happy to be learning, they appreciate even my broken French attempts to explain simple things like putting a folder into another folder. In addition, they are in the process of setting up satellite internet here, so in January, inchallah, we can start internet classes also, which I will lead!
*My Federation of Artisans have grown energetic again, and they want to start real trainings on business strategies such as accounting and SWOT analysis. So, we are having a BIG meeting next Tuesday to discuss what I have to offer and what they want to learn. They will be a HUGE amount of work once we start that! So many of them don't keep any types of books regarding their earnings or expenses, and so many have no idea how to market or how to expand - it's going to be a rewarding project... if it doesn't drive me to an early grave.
*My Lifeskills counterpart, Moussa Diawara, started a theater group while I was gone that I am apparently president of (such a Moussa thing to do), and we have been going crazy preparing skits to do for SAG’s (the gold mines) International AIDS Week. They made two skits - one with a Imam’ daughter getting married, and he insists on having everyone take an HIV test before the wedding and one where a man is propositioning women, and the first says "no, I am waiting until marriage," the next says "only if I am your only girlfriend and we get tested first," and the last saying, "only if we use a condom"(the three ways to prevent STDs - abstinence, fidelity, and condoms). Our new theater group went to a different village each day with the health team from SAG to teach all different types of people about AIDS. Last night, we even did the skits for the female workers at the mines! I didn’t even know there were females at SAG! It went really well, and it was so much fun (pictures will come soon). Now, AIDS week is over, but we are going to continue our work, hopefully teaching the artisans of Siguiri next. We are also starting a training of peer-educators, meaning that we will extensively train a handful of Guinean youth to talk to their peers about HIV. Because we have so many plans and we have been working so hard, the SAG health clinic gave us a GIANT box of Prudence Plus condoms to distribute and posters to hang up when we teach. Let me tell you, I have so many condoms (multiple thousand!) in my house, it is somewhat embarassing. Anyone need any?
*I have also started SERIOUSLY thinking about my graduate school final paper - my SRP. I am settled and ready (finally, after almost a whole year!) to start the research. It has taken awhile to actually figure out what I want to study, and it has taken a long time to also form strong enough bonds to ask the questions I want to ask. I have sat at my breakfast table each morning brainstorming ideas and thinking of questions for my research. It’s getting exciting! I will keep you posted, probably too posted, I’m sure. (ps - about this, anyone interested in helping me, please let me know, whether you are a fellow volunteer or a professor or just a kind friend)
So, that’s the work side of my life. But that’s not all that happens here. I have also had visitors (my beloved Sarah and Diana), and we partied at SAG last weekend with cool (not sketchy) miners. We had a BLAST hanging out with them - they’re a crazy bunch, and they took pity on us living the village life, so they treated us to prawn and lobster dinners and bottle after bottle of delicious wine (notice, I said bottle, not the boxes us PCVs are accustomed to). They were so kind to treat us to a night of good food, good drinks, and good laughs. As I said, they are a crazy bunch - imagine a bunch of middle-aged South Africans dancing around to heavy German rock like Rammstein, drinking whisky, wrapping everyone's head with red duck tape and then blowing up condoms on their heads. It was a blast. The highlights included drinking delicious wine and beer, watching the South Africains rock out to German music, dancing in circles with (oh, I forget his name), and of course, the GIANT PRAWNS! Pictures will come soon.
We also recently had a wedding in the Bereté family, complete with drumming and dancing. I danced and sang all night with my family, and we had a great time. The best part though was taking a break from dancing, and sharing a giant bowl of rice with the drummers, who were all hilarious men. We sat there, under the full moon, mixing rice with sauce and eating with our hands out of the same bowl. It's really one of my favorite things here in Guinea - sharing a bowl of rice with new friends or my family. I know the hygeine part is a little sketchy - everyone scooping up huge handfuls out of the same bowl and eating and licking their hands and doing it again, but I just love the comraderie of sharing a meal like that. After the meal, we went back to drumming and dancing, and I snuck out early to go to bed.
So, December has been quite eventful around here. But what do I have planned for the rest of the month? How am I going to finish 2006? I have visitors coming the weekend, I believe. And hopefully, we will once again party at SAG and have a good time. I also plan to do A LOT of work before I leave for Conakry for New Years. Inch Allah (with the help of God), all will work out. Thankfully, I have internet again in Siguiri, so please feel free to say hello - I'll get back to you quickly!
Happy holidays to everyone, and I will talk to you again soon!
But really the thing that has changed is that things have really taken off with work. I remember Brad, a fellow PCV said that one day things just fell into place for him and work began to take care of itself. Well, I guess that's what happened to me this December. Here’s all that has happened work wise:
*I have started going to the local APROFIG chapter daily to help teach basic computer skills from Windows to Word and Excel. APROFIG is a local NGO that works for the advancement of young women, and they have set up a computer lab where anyone can sign up for classes and pay $15 or 90,000FG (a lot!) for 2 week courses. We are teaching them how to create folders, drag and drop items, how to open up programs, and how to rename files. It's difficult to teach someone how to use a computer when they have never held a mouse before! How do you explain the difference between a single and a double click... in french? Let me tell you, it's a challenge. But my students are so happy to be learning, they appreciate even my broken French attempts to explain simple things like putting a folder into another folder. In addition, they are in the process of setting up satellite internet here, so in January, inchallah, we can start internet classes also, which I will lead!
*My Federation of Artisans have grown energetic again, and they want to start real trainings on business strategies such as accounting and SWOT analysis. So, we are having a BIG meeting next Tuesday to discuss what I have to offer and what they want to learn. They will be a HUGE amount of work once we start that! So many of them don't keep any types of books regarding their earnings or expenses, and so many have no idea how to market or how to expand - it's going to be a rewarding project... if it doesn't drive me to an early grave.
*My Lifeskills counterpart, Moussa Diawara, started a theater group while I was gone that I am apparently president of (such a Moussa thing to do), and we have been going crazy preparing skits to do for SAG’s (the gold mines) International AIDS Week. They made two skits - one with a Imam’ daughter getting married, and he insists on having everyone take an HIV test before the wedding and one where a man is propositioning women, and the first says "no, I am waiting until marriage," the next says "only if I am your only girlfriend and we get tested first," and the last saying, "only if we use a condom"(the three ways to prevent STDs - abstinence, fidelity, and condoms). Our new theater group went to a different village each day with the health team from SAG to teach all different types of people about AIDS. Last night, we even did the skits for the female workers at the mines! I didn’t even know there were females at SAG! It went really well, and it was so much fun (pictures will come soon). Now, AIDS week is over, but we are going to continue our work, hopefully teaching the artisans of Siguiri next. We are also starting a training of peer-educators, meaning that we will extensively train a handful of Guinean youth to talk to their peers about HIV. Because we have so many plans and we have been working so hard, the SAG health clinic gave us a GIANT box of Prudence Plus condoms to distribute and posters to hang up when we teach. Let me tell you, I have so many condoms (multiple thousand!) in my house, it is somewhat embarassing. Anyone need any?
*I have also started SERIOUSLY thinking about my graduate school final paper - my SRP. I am settled and ready (finally, after almost a whole year!) to start the research. It has taken awhile to actually figure out what I want to study, and it has taken a long time to also form strong enough bonds to ask the questions I want to ask. I have sat at my breakfast table each morning brainstorming ideas and thinking of questions for my research. It’s getting exciting! I will keep you posted, probably too posted, I’m sure. (ps - about this, anyone interested in helping me, please let me know, whether you are a fellow volunteer or a professor or just a kind friend)
So, that’s the work side of my life. But that’s not all that happens here. I have also had visitors (my beloved Sarah and Diana), and we partied at SAG last weekend with cool (not sketchy) miners. We had a BLAST hanging out with them - they’re a crazy bunch, and they took pity on us living the village life, so they treated us to prawn and lobster dinners and bottle after bottle of delicious wine (notice, I said bottle, not the boxes us PCVs are accustomed to). They were so kind to treat us to a night of good food, good drinks, and good laughs. As I said, they are a crazy bunch - imagine a bunch of middle-aged South Africans dancing around to heavy German rock like Rammstein, drinking whisky, wrapping everyone's head with red duck tape and then blowing up condoms on their heads. It was a blast. The highlights included drinking delicious wine and beer, watching the South Africains rock out to German music, dancing in circles with (oh, I forget his name), and of course, the GIANT PRAWNS! Pictures will come soon.
We also recently had a wedding in the Bereté family, complete with drumming and dancing. I danced and sang all night with my family, and we had a great time. The best part though was taking a break from dancing, and sharing a giant bowl of rice with the drummers, who were all hilarious men. We sat there, under the full moon, mixing rice with sauce and eating with our hands out of the same bowl. It's really one of my favorite things here in Guinea - sharing a bowl of rice with new friends or my family. I know the hygeine part is a little sketchy - everyone scooping up huge handfuls out of the same bowl and eating and licking their hands and doing it again, but I just love the comraderie of sharing a meal like that. After the meal, we went back to drumming and dancing, and I snuck out early to go to bed.
So, December has been quite eventful around here. But what do I have planned for the rest of the month? How am I going to finish 2006? I have visitors coming the weekend, I believe. And hopefully, we will once again party at SAG and have a good time. I also plan to do A LOT of work before I leave for Conakry for New Years. Inch Allah (with the help of God), all will work out. Thankfully, I have internet again in Siguiri, so please feel free to say hello - I'll get back to you quickly!
Happy holidays to everyone, and I will talk to you again soon!
Thursday, November 23
Escaping Guinea – A Trip to Senegal
After over 10 months in Guinea, I needed a vacation. I needed to pamper myself for a few days. I needed to eat well, feel clean, and explore a new place. Finally, last week Reid and I went on our much-needed trip to Senegal. Dakar seemed like the developed world to us, and although we had not left the continent, I felt far away from the Africa I have grown to know. We flew from Conakry to Dakar for an 8 day trip to heaven. It was an amazing trip, and I could have stayed there forever, but now that I am back in Guinea, I feel refreshed and ready to face another few months.
When we arrived in Dakar on Tuesday night, chaos was there to greet us. We exited the airport with the plan to find the #8 bus into town (yes, there's public transport!), but that was obviously easier said than done. We saw a #8 bus and its engine was on, but it was empty and everyone swore to Allah that it wasn’t going to leave. Ever. And no more were coming. This left us only one option they told us – their expensive taxi. We have learned to never believe an African when they are trying to sell you something, so we decided to stick it out and wait to see if another #8 bus came.
While waiting, a man came up to us and tried to sell me euros, shiny euros at that. I just arriving in Dakar – I don’t need EUROS! He offered me CFAs, the currency of Senegal (and some other West African countries, but not Guinea), and I jokingly said “ok, I would like to buy CFAs. With which currency? I have Guinean Francs – want those?” He looked horrified and turned around and left, obviously not getting the joke. You see, the Guinean franc is worthless outside of Guinea. It’s a “soft” currency, only to be used in Guinea. The rest of the world won’t touch it, as it literally devalues every day. So me offering someone Guinean francs outside Guinea is ridiculous, even if they are a money changer. That’s how we Peace Corps volunteers joke around in West Africa.
Anyway, the bus arrived and we got on board to head downtown. Having no small change and being clueless as to where we were going, we were a bus driver’s nightmare. But he was a friendly man who took pity on us and found us change and let us know when to get off with a smile and a nod. Dakar was a great place – everyone was friendly and helpful throughout the trip. It makes traveling by the seat of your pants a lot easier and more enjoyable.
Picture Below: View from our Bungalow, Toubab Dialaw
Heading back to Dakar on Saturday, I was sad to leave the beach but excited to see the city life. In Dakar, we ate even better (see Reid’s description below), listened to more music, and enjoyed shopping and seeing the sites. We spent our days wandering the city and becoming familiar with the culture and people.
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Why I Love Dakar by Reid MacHarg
The best marker of Senegal's lead on Guinea is that people have disposable income, which provides a market for finer things. As a result, Amy and I ate so well! In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I feel it's not totally inappropriate to spell out the decadence. Honestly, I'm still recovering and readjusting to the Guinean diet. We totally indulged in much missed calamari cooked in curry or with green peppercorns; duck a l'orange; cheap but decent white, red, and rose half liter carafes of wine; Cape Verdean cuisine; Vietnamese; impeccable Thai; Senegalese beer called Gazelle, which comes in 63cL bottles; exotic cocktails with lychee, ginger, sake, grapefruit, etc.; a West African tea called Ataya prepared in its time consuming traditional manner with mashed mint; espresso; croque monsieurs; panini; grilled prawns; fresh salads sitting at a cafe on the island ile de Goree containing tuna, grapefruit, lettuce, avocado, shrimp and corn; orangina; three cheese pizza with mozzarella, roquefort, and gruyere; Parisian pastry chops and chocalatiers; prosciutto with either goat or blue chees sandwiches on fresh baguette; ice cream; chawarmas and kaftas; a fish and shrimp melange in saffron sauce; yassa; and grilled fish on the beach. When we weren't relaxing on the beach, we were eating the smiling in front of mouth-watering meals. There were few moments when I wasn't full.
Before I move on from this subject, I have to give adequate acclaim to the Thai restaurant Amy and I went to on my birthday. It's the most beautiful restaurant I've ever been to. There was a thai garden outside complete with ponds, fish, waterfalls, and beautiful lighting. Most impressive was the giant jade face affixed to the wall with water flowing over it making it a fountain. I was already blown away by the ambience, but the food knocked me over. Seriously, have you ever had that first bite from your plate that is so good it makes you feel light-headed? I had to put down my fork and steady myself with a hand on each arm of the chair- that good. I ordered slow-roasted duck in a light thai curry with white asparagus and vermicelli. Amy got red curry and coconut prawns kicked with keffir lime leaf. I had a bite and it made my eyes roll back in my head. We figured we were on a roll, so we threw economy out the window and embraced hedonism: We asked for the dessert menu. It was easily the best nine dollars I've spent in life. I got lychee sorbet with lychee fruit, caramalized ginger, and a sprig of mint. I almost cried when it was gone. For those of you who don't know what lychee is, I highly recommend it. It's often in cocktails and desserts. It's light and slightly sweet with a texture a little more structured than watermelon. Amy ordered fried bananas with caramel sauce and vanilla ice cream. Hers was good, but I was really happy to have mine. It was so good that when she was done with hers, racing the rapidly melting ice-cream, we demolished what was left of mine together. Romantic? I think so.
As we sat there with a melody of flavors massaging our senses, we began to notice that we had closed down the restaurant. Every one else had left, and the waiters had started their clean-up duty. I guess the adage held true that time flies when you're having fun. We had spent three hours there in revelry. We got the check, paid the bill, and meandered out.
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photo below: buying silver jewelry in Goree
I don't think I could describe it much better than Reid. The food in Dakar was amazing. We ate at this amazing Cape Verdean / Portuguese / African restaurant called Chez Loutcha 4 times, always wanting to go back again the next day. For anyone headed to Dakar anytime soon, let me know, I will give you directions! Nobody will be disappointed by the range of choice and the quality of food and service in Dakar - not even those from the developed world!We spent our last day out on Isle de Gorée, drinking beers, relaxing, and taking in the atmosphere. It's only a 20 minute ferry ride from the port of Dakar, but it felt like another world. There are artists selling the work all over the island, and it is impossible to leave the island without buying jewelry (you all know me - it's impossible for me to leave anywhere without a new story-worthy piece!).
While wandering the island, we happened upon a gorgeous tree with a huge sheep standing nearby. The sheep seemed friendly, friendly enough to pet. But when I went to sit down on a branch and take a picture, the giant evil sheep stormed
Overall, it was an amazing trip, a much needed one, that couldn’t have worked out better. I can’t wait to go back to Senegal (at COS time, when we are talking about over landing up to Spain), and experience more of the country. Anyone interested in meeting me there in April 2008 - let me know - it's AMAZING!
Thankgiving, Conakry Style
Happy Thanksgiving to everyone! This is only my second Thanksgiving spent internationally, but it’s definitely not as sad as the first. Sara, Chris, Josh, and Heather – do you remember our Thanksgiving in Freiburg? Do you remember having class that morning? Do you remember arguing over the last of the mashed potatoes? Do you remember how much we all missed our families? I sure do. This year isn’t as bad though.
Nadia and Chris at Thanksgiving 2001, Freiburg, Germany
First of all, it doesn’t really feel like Thanksgiving. It’s hot and humid, and there is certainly no talk of snow in the high-country. Second of all, there is no sign of Christmas yet. Nor do I think there will be here in my mostly Muslim home. It’s a strange feeling, although I am glad it leaves me a bit disconnected from the holiday spirit – it’s a little less painful this way.
I will, however, eat some turkey and stuffing tonight. We are having a HUGE Thanksgving dinner in the capital, Conakry, at the Country Director's house. I am really excited to eat Patience's amazing cooking and spend time with my adopted family - Peace Corps Guinea.
In the true spirit of this holiday, I do want to remember how thankful I am for my friends and family. Since I have moved to Guinea, I have become even more aware of how important you all are to me. I couldn’t be doing this without you. The support you have given me over the last year has been amazing, and I don’t even know where to begin to properly thank you.
Today, on Thanksgiving, I received two packages, again reminding me of how great my friends and family are. Just seeing the return addresses on the packages made me jump up and down – literally. Koumba and Aunt Lisa! Seeing those two names made my day – it didn’t even matter what was inside those boxes. Thank you, Schneiders and Koumba. I love you and miss you.
Sunday, November 12
Update
So, I find myself in Conakry once again with free internet, so I figured a blog update was due. It’s been a hectic couple of months – traveling a lot and tiring myself out. Let me start back in October with the update….
I went back to Pita after I last wrote to spend a few more days with Reid doing nothing. We celebrated my birthday with a box of wine and a chicken. Guess who killed the chicken. ME! Finally, I did it and didn’t chicken out. (Wow, that was a bad joke). It was harder than I thought it would be – I learned every animal has a real desire to stay alive. But I wasn’t too traumatized to eat the tasty chicken.
My Birthday Chicken
I then went back to site before my mailrun day (see previous entry for travel stories), and I spent my real birthday in Siguiri. I was pretty scared to spend my birthday alone at site. Nothing feels more lonely than being alone on your birthday, I’d imagine, but my friend, Ibrahima took me our for a really fancy dinner at Djoma, the nicest restaurant in town on the top of a hill. It was really sweet, and I got to eat delicious meat brochettes and a salad and drink a coke. What a treat!
Then, the next day, I celebrated once again with the missionaries in town. It was their son’s birthday also, so I shared a cake with a 5 year old. It was really sweet of them to invite me over to celebrate with them – it made me feel at home… well, not quite. But it definitely made me feel less far. And that’s all you can ask for here in Africa sometimes.
So, after a joyous birthday, Reid arrived in Siguiri a few days later. Although he got sick from Haute, we had a great time swimming in the pool out at the gold mines, drinking beers, and meeting my people. Everyone was excited to finally meet the man I had talked about for months, and they welcomed him with gifts of rice, coffee, a hat from Mali, and fruit. We ate a lot of ice cream and Reid found me a meat man to buy brochettes at night. It’s funny – I go to Pita and find him a bean lady, and he comes to Siguiri an finds me a meat man. Reid was a bit overwhelmed by the Malinke energy, but he got along well with most of my family and my friends, especially my kids. We played monkey in the middle and had tickle fights and my kids fell in love with him. Everyone was sad to see him go, but we had to head down to Kankan for the Halloween party!!!
Halloween was a blast – I was an angel, and Reid dressed up as Bob Dake, a fellow volunteer that is more like a caricature than a real person. I love Bob Dake, and I love Reid, but in very different ways. I didn’t know who to kiss all night! It was a great night of dancing and drinking – you have to love a party in Haute! To see pics, visit my Flickr.com page over there-->
Unfortunately, Reid got a phone call while in Kankan that his house had been broken into and he had to run back to Pita with Peace Corps to assess the damage. Most things of value were taken, including a solar battery charger, CDs, protein powder, mayonnaise – everything. So, Reid is now planning to move sites, although we don’t know where yet. I will keep you posted.
After that, we all met in Mamou for Life Skills, a training on HIV/AIDS for volunteers and a counterpart from site. I brought my friend, Moussa, because he talks so much and loves to be the center of attention, so I figured he would spread the knowledge well. He is energetic and loves to be right, so I thought he should go around spewing true information if he is going to be going around spewing something. I didn’t really think it out though. I didn’t take into account my own sanity during the conference. His loud, aggressive character definitely got on everyone’s nerves. In the end though, he proved to be a great counterpart, performing well in our skits and writing songs about condoms and such. It was great by the end, and I do plan to return to site and work with him to educate the population on HIV/AIDS.
Me and Moussa, my Counterpart for LifeSkills
After Life Skills was finally over, I came down to Conakry to hang out for a few days before flying to Dakar for a beach and city vacation with Reid. It’s going to be great – I can’t wait! In a few days, I will be sipping cold drinks and eating wonderful developed world food on the beach! Yes, Senegal is the developed world to me now…. It’s sad.
I will be sure to write more after the trip.
Friday, November 10
On the Road Again
[written on October 10 by hand in Siguiri, but typed up today]
Getting back to Kankan this time was again an ordeal. So you remember on my way to Pita, I arrived in Mamou at 3am and slept on a table until sunrise? That journey is a strong contender for the title "#1 reason Guinea sucks, but you just have to laugh about it." Can you believe that my return trip also put up a fight for that prize?
It all started in Pita when Reid and I left his house at 8am to walk (uphill 20 minutes) to the gare. I was placed in a beautiful, clean, well-running car to Mamou. I actually said to Reid, "well, maybe today won't suck like I expected it to..." Hah.
I arrived in Mamou safely in record time without pushing any cars. I bought a ticket for the Kankan car when they said was full and we would be leaving "tout de suite, " which of course means "right away" in french, but something more like "maybe before Tuesday" in Guinean. They also said the car was a Mercedes. "What luck I have today," I thought, "A Mercedes leaving rigth away!"
Well, tout de suite turned into a 6 hour wait and the Mercedes was in fact a Mercedes, but the man who put his daughter's name on his cars (that's the story right?) would have been furious that THIS was still called a Mercedes. Hey, at least it was a nice sea-foam green...
We finally get in the road, right before sunset, and I think, "ok, at least we're moving and I'm not too squished with 4 adults and 3 kids in the back seat." At sunset we stopped in Dounet to pray and break the Ramadan fast. We also picked up 2 more people going to Kankan whose car had broken down.
Alas, that was not my decision to make, so they climbed on in and "not too squished" turned nito me sitting in the front with 2 people in the driver's seat, 2 in the passengers, and 1 on the middle console facing backwards. Great. But it gets better......
At 2am, the "Mercedes" decided to not want to change gears. If we pushed the car fast enough, the driver could get into 3rd gear only and we could stay in 3rd and coast. Fine. I was pushing a car again. What's new? Stupid Guinea. But this time I have to jump into a moving car at 2am and be super squished in the front only to have to get out and push again 20 or 30 minutes later. Really stupid Guinea. Anyway, I arrived in Kankan at 4:30, made it to the hotel by 5am, slept for 2 hours, then rose again to go to the gare to get to Siguiri (via dilapidated minibus) before Conde arrived with my monthly mail visit from Peace Corps.
To end this great journey, upon arriving in Siguiri, as they were unloading my baggage from the top of the bus, I saw the Peace Corps car driving in the direction OUT OF TOWN! I had missed the mailrun, the only reason I had rushed home!
So, how does that sound? Worthy of the "#1 reason Guinea sucks, but you just have to laugh about it" prize? Stupid Guinea, but it's all an adventure, right?!
ps - Luckily I called our regional coordinator and he radioed Conde to return to Siguiri later that day with my mail, adding nealry 200 extra kilometers onto Conde's Siguiri mailrun day. Thanks Conde!
Wednesday, September 27
Tuesday, September 26
Update
So, now that I am in Conakry with free internet for the first time in 4 months, I figure you guys should get a real update on my life. I have been away from site for awhile, visiting Pita, Labe, and Mamou for meetings and Reid-Amy time. It has been quite a trip. On my way to Pita from Siguiri, I took a taxi from Siguiri to Kankan, and then a taxi to Mamou, a junction town in the middle of the country. After a day waiting at the bustling Kankan taxi gare, I arrived in Mamou at 3 a.m, with no real place to stay. I should let you know that Mamou is known for its "bandits" that rob everyone during the night. It's a scary place. Luckily, Peace Corps has a good relationship with the agroforestry school there, ENATEF, so I went up there to find a place to stay. Well, at 3a.m, nobody was there, and no rooms were open. After some panicked searching, I found one building open - a building of classrooms. So, since I only had about 3.5 hours until sunrise, I squatted there, sleeping on a table, to avoid the bandits of Mamou. At sunrise, I left for the gare to get my taxi to Pita to finally see my honey. I arrived in Pita tired, dirty, and exhausted, but at least I had made it.
After recuperating from the 15 hours in a taxi and the night on a table, I had a wonderful few days in Pita, hanging out with the new ducks (see video below) and relaxing. Then, Reid and I headed up to Labe for my VAC meeting. In Labe, we visited Alfa's Garden (an amazing nursery to buy any type of Guinean plant) and killed a giant $4 chicken for dinner. It was a great couple days.
Then, I was supposed to head down to Mamou for a Youth Business Club meeting, but my taxi left late and then broke down en route, making me a few hours late. After the hour long hike uphill up to ENATEF, I arrived sweaty and gross, and found out I had missed the meeting by an hour or so. So, after a quick break, I turned around and went back to the gare to return to Pita, another 2 hour trip squished in a taxi. It was a wasted day and a wasted 40,000 Guinean Francs, but at least I was back in Pita by sunset.
A couple days later, Reid and I left for Conakry for our quarterly visit. Of course, we had to leave on the first day of Ramadan, when the whole country was fasting, but we made it here alive, after dealing with the issue - to eat or not to eat in front of Guineans. It was a good thing we made it here Sunday evening because Reid's eye had been bothering him for a few days, and there was a small black speck on his iris. It wasn't too bad, although it made him tired and irritated. But first thing Monday morning, we went to see the Medical Officer, and she immediately sent him to a Guinean doctor in town. The doctor scrathed the thing out of his eye (after applying anesthetic eye drops) and performed a quick analysis of the fleck or matter. Guess what it turned out to be. Metal. Reid had a small jagged piece of metal in his eye for 5 days. It's amazing what happens to us here in Guinea, and what we actually put up with here without immediately running to the PCMO. But, it's all taken care of, and Reid just has to continue putting in his eyedrops for a couple more days, and all will be fine.
Other than that, Conakry has been typical Conakry. Crazy dorm-stlye living, where there is always a mess in the kitchen and the water turns off a few times a day. I have been internetting a lot (hence, this blog entry) and relaxing with Reid, Rasa, and the other random mix of PCVs here. I plan to venture into downtown tomorrow to buy a plane ticket for a Novermber trip to Dakar and to eat gelato and Chinese food (maybe). Other than that, I will be working and relaxing a bit. Oh, and manuevering my way through my first Ramadan, attempting not to starve.
Please feel free to send me an email this week, as I will respond with lightening speed (yay for free internet!). Talk to you all soon!
After recuperating from the 15 hours in a taxi and the night on a table, I had a wonderful few days in Pita, hanging out with the new ducks (see video below) and relaxing. Then, Reid and I headed up to Labe for my VAC meeting. In Labe, we visited Alfa's Garden (an amazing nursery to buy any type of Guinean plant) and killed a giant $4 chicken for dinner. It was a great couple days.
Then, I was supposed to head down to Mamou for a Youth Business Club meeting, but my taxi left late and then broke down en route, making me a few hours late. After the hour long hike uphill up to ENATEF, I arrived sweaty and gross, and found out I had missed the meeting by an hour or so. So, after a quick break, I turned around and went back to the gare to return to Pita, another 2 hour trip squished in a taxi. It was a wasted day and a wasted 40,000 Guinean Francs, but at least I was back in Pita by sunset.
A couple days later, Reid and I left for Conakry for our quarterly visit. Of course, we had to leave on the first day of Ramadan, when the whole country was fasting, but we made it here alive, after dealing with the issue - to eat or not to eat in front of Guineans. It was a good thing we made it here Sunday evening because Reid's eye had been bothering him for a few days, and there was a small black speck on his iris. It wasn't too bad, although it made him tired and irritated. But first thing Monday morning, we went to see the Medical Officer, and she immediately sent him to a Guinean doctor in town. The doctor scrathed the thing out of his eye (after applying anesthetic eye drops) and performed a quick analysis of the fleck or matter. Guess what it turned out to be. Metal. Reid had a small jagged piece of metal in his eye for 5 days. It's amazing what happens to us here in Guinea, and what we actually put up with here without immediately running to the PCMO. But, it's all taken care of, and Reid just has to continue putting in his eyedrops for a couple more days, and all will be fine.
Other than that, Conakry has been typical Conakry. Crazy dorm-stlye living, where there is always a mess in the kitchen and the water turns off a few times a day. I have been internetting a lot (hence, this blog entry) and relaxing with Reid, Rasa, and the other random mix of PCVs here. I plan to venture into downtown tomorrow to buy a plane ticket for a Novermber trip to Dakar and to eat gelato and Chinese food (maybe). Other than that, I will be working and relaxing a bit. Oh, and manuevering my way through my first Ramadan, attempting not to starve.
Please feel free to send me an email this week, as I will respond with lightening speed (yay for free internet!). Talk to you all soon!
The Ducks
| I would like to introduce you to Reid's Ducks - Bidon (Fatty), Kikeedee, and Middle Child | |
Reid recently bought three pet ducks, and they have been a constant source of amusement since I arrived in Pita. They have their own house to sleep and lay eggs in, and they have a beautiful pond for bathing. I spent the last week waking up early, putting coffee on to brew, and letting the ducks out of their house to be fed. Reid would wake up to the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of my voice yelling, "Don't hog all the food, Fatty! Let the others have some!"
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