"Here I am, where I ought to be."

Premiérement - I HAVE A CELL PHONE! From the States, my number is 011-226-76-65-49-77. Calling anywhere from Burkina is trés cher (more expensive than my Peace Corps allowance affords), but texting, even the States, is doable...so, if you're so inclined, please do!! Calls are more than welcome as well as I have a cell phone tower near my site (go figure, talk about irony), thus reception in good.

That said, Hi All! It's been a while! It's been a busy couple of weeks full of classes and lots of quality time au village. We're all a bit burned out as stage winds down and are looking forward to the end of training and the commencement of our two years at site. It's definitely a bittersweet time, as I'm sad to be leaving my host family, who have made my introduction to la vie Burkinabé a pleasant and unforgettable experience. I'm hopeful that Diabo will provide as warm and welcoming an environment as Sanaga has for the past two months.
I've lately been reading Isak Dinesen's (neé Karen Blixen) "Out of Africa" which, despite being almost a century removed from my African experience, rings true in so many ways. It feels a bit cliché to be reading "Out of Africa" IN Africa, but the prose is beautifully descriptive and her insights parallel many of my own observations. She writes, of her farm in Kenya's Ngong Hills, "There was no fat on in and no luxuriance anywhere; it was Africa distilled...like the strong and refined essence of a continent." I don't think Isak spent any time in West Africa but I'm confident that, if she had, she would have agreed that this description certainly holds true for Burkina Faso. There is absolutely no fat on this land, nor its people or animals. Even now, at the height of the rainy season, the profusion of vegetation is merely relative and, unlike the images of tropical Africa, is wholly functional in its grandieur.
I'm going to take a cue from Isak and emulate a section of the book entitled "From an Immigrant's Notebook" which is an interesting and amusing collection of essays on her observations and experiences.

Grand-Mére, Le Crocodile

Last weekend, we took an excursion to Koumbre, a village 30k outside of Ouahigouya, to visit the village's sacred crocodile pools. We hiked out to the two pools and enjoyed a leisurely mid-morning snack of popcorn and bissap (a Burkinabé drink made from boiled hibiscus leaves and sugar). After relaxing for a while, we gathered around the second pool, which is a small, murky pond situated underneath a sheer cliff face. One of the Peace Corps staff had hired two local boys to lure the crocodiles out with two chickens we had purchased. They proceeded to tie a rope round the leg of one of the chickens and repeatedly hurl it out into the middle of the pond. This, one can imagine, caused the chicken to flail about for some time and attracted the attention of several of the crocodiles. That bird was a smart one, however, and soon developed a strategy of floating ,completely still, until it drifted over to the side of the pool. The chicken-throwing scenario was repeated numerous times and, though the crocs surfaced and circled it several times, they never followed through. My theory as to their response is two-fold: 1) We were too large and noisy a group and 2) These crocs are a proud bunch and were determined to maintain their integrity despite the temptation of a tasty treat.
Despite the lack of Discovery Channel-worthy carnage (did I really want to see that, anyway?), it was an enjoyable trip and a much-needed break from the increasing monotony of classes.

Interestingly, crocodiles are a significant element of Sanaga's (my homestay village) oral history, as well. According to the village Imam (Muslim religious leader), the people of Sananga are descended from crocodiles and his grandmother was, herself, actually a crocodile. Apparently she shed her crocodile skin long enough to seduce his grandfather and, after they married, she gave birth to four baby crocodiles before producing a human offspring. He told us this during a meeting we had with the village opinion leaders after which he walked off into a gentle rainshower, assuring us that the rain didn't bother him since he is , of course, descended from crocodiles. One might think there is substantial reason to doubt him however, this is the same Imam who attributed this year's plentiful rainy season to our arrival in village, thus I am overwhelmingly apt to believe him.


Hanging out by the crocodile pool

Group Photo

Le Tailleure ou "Tu as peur de manger?"

We depart village this Thursday, after which we spend several days in Ouahigouya before going to Ouaga, where we'll stay for a week before swearing in on August 25th. Swearing in, as you can imagine, is a big deal. Its the official culmination of our two months of stage - our blood, sweat, and tears, if you will - and the commencement of our two years at site.
Given this, many of us have opted to have outfits made in traditional or modern Burkinabé style for the occasion. Last weekend, some of the other stagiares and I went to the tailor of of our language instructor's wife, to have complets made from fabric we had purchased at the marché. I had met the tailor, an amiable fellow, before, as we had paid him a visit for a practical language session. After he and I discussed the design for my complet (a two-piece outfit with a long skirt and a pretty, off-the-shoulder top of an appropriately West African bright yellow and blue, floral material), he took my measurements. After he had measured my waste he looked at me and asked, in true Burkinabé fashion, "Tu as peur de manger?" (are you afraid to eat?). Rest assured, I have not wasted away, in fact, I have finally gained some weight back. However, in Burkinabé culture it is totally normal to comment on a person's physical appearance, particularly their wieght. "Gros" (fat), for instance, is a sincere compliment, as being well-fed is a sign of wealth. Slimness, on the other hand, is not so great...so thank you, Nana the tailor, for pointing that out.

That's all I've got for now as my time is winding down. Things are good - the rain is plentiful thus some nights are actually cool. Each day I feel a bit wiser and more acclimated. I certainly experience those "Damn, I'm in Africa!" moments that some of you have referred to. To return to Isak for a moment, she put it best when, describing her feeling upon waking up in Kenya, she writes, "Here I am, where I ought to be." Though I miss home, family, friends, and the comforts thereof, this is certainly where I ought to be.

Thanks for all the e-mails, know that they're read even if I can't immediately respond...it's so good to know what you're all up to! Also, there were some inquiries as to a package wish-list so here's a brief list of things that would rock:

M & Ms (as that hard candy shell withstands the heat)
Skittles
Crystal-Light, etc.
Granola Bars
News magazines (not Newsweek, as PC gives us the int'l edition...but publications like the Economist, the Atlantic, anything Foreign Policy related, etc...we are definitely starved for information and current events here)

That's all I can think of for now - anything you're inspired to send will be more than appreciated!!