La Vie Du Nasara

 Hey, All! I'm in Fada once again for a brief sejours from village, to meet up with some other volunteers.  It's the first time since leaving for village that I'll have seen any other volunteers aside from my closest neighbor (it's been 1 month + au village!).  I am excited to catch up, swap stories, experiences, frustrations, and the like...over some cold beers, no less.

La vie au village goes well.  Each day I feel my status as 'l'étranger' a little less keenly, and feel a bit more habituated, a bit more comfortable, and a bit more knowledgeable.  Regardless, it is impossible to leave my house without being met by stares as I am, for all intents and purposes, the only white chick au village.  Granted, there are the European nuns at the mission; ancient, stooped, wrinkled - appropriately nunlike - but they rarely venture outside the mission walls, hence I am the living, breathing, blue-eyed American "nasara," the epitome of white and the ambassador of all things American in my African village.

It's currently nearing the end of the rainy season and the recult (harvest) will commence shortly, bringing with a host of fruits and veggies to my marché!  School starts next week and the school faculties return this week in preparation.  I'm excited for the return of the teachers and school directors as it will allow me to start discussing and planning possible school year projects with the primary school and high school students.

I've spent the last few weeks socializing lots, spending many hours au marché talking with all sorts of people.  I've also commenced with my in-depth "étude du mileu" (literally 'study of place').  I've spent several days observing at the Centre Medicale in Diabo, talking to the nursing staff about village health needs and problems, what the most prevalent illnesses are and when and why they occur.  I think that the health sector will provide ample oppoturnity for projects with students and villagers alike.  My village is the administrative center of a department that contains 65 villages, which means that the Centre Medicale, not even close to hospital-like in scope and resources, serves more than 22,000 people.  As you can imagine, this makes treatment a challenge, with little time or resources left over for health education and outreach. I've also started thinking about the possibility of facilitating a mentorship program between lycée students and the students at the 4 primary schools au village.  I'm lucky to be in a village with a lycée and want to take advantage of having older students with advanced French proficiency.  

There are certainly endless possibilities for work in village, but the challenge will be assessing real needs and finding sustainable, praticipatory ways to address them.  If the past four months have taught me anything, it's that an idealistic approach to development is unrealistic, impractical, and largely impossible.  Through my own observations and experiences, as well as countless conversations with other volunteers, I think that the greatest lesson I'll take from my Peace Corps experience is the true nature and possibilities of development, a hard but necessary lesson.  My idealism has already been tempered and each day is a full dose of reality, which undermines a lot of the naive, bleeding-heart ideals I held so dearly growing up and through college. At the same time many of my convictions have been reaffirmed and hardened with concrete, substantive observation and evidence that no political science class or international affairs journal can provide.

Anyhow, back to la vie au village.  My house is coming along nicely as I received the furniture I had made in village - a table for my "kitchen," on which my gas stove rests, a coffee table, a bookshelf, and some chairs.  It's nice to finally be able to truly unpack and be surrounded by my books, framed pictures from home, and the general comfort of things in their place.  

Aside from working on my étude de mileu, meeting new people each day, and visiting some of the administrative offices, I've continued to read voraciously and now run regularly, at least every other evening or morning.  I'm finally starting to adapt to the heat, athletic-wise, which was a bit of a challenge.  It's nice to feel some muscle mass returning and to posess more energy than I have since arriving en Afrique.  I'm going to try to add a page to my blog with some comments on the books I've been reading.  Most recently I finished "Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight" by Alexandra Fuller, an English author who grew up in Zimbabwe (Rhodesia) during the war for independence, Malawi, and Mozambique.  I can't recommend the book enough as Fuller's authentically British, biting wit lends a unique element to her description of the colonial/post-colonial life in the 1970s and 80s.  It's a fascinating glimpse into family dynamics, the expat life, and the experiences and history of colonialism in Africa.

Time to sign off.  'Til next time!

Smiles,

Chrissy

More on Diabo

Bonjour, tout le monde. I'm back, still in Fada until this afternoon, when my nearest PC neighbor, Nancy, and I will head back to village.  We'll catch a bus headed to Ouaga and descend at Maouda, the town on the goudron 
(paved road) where the road to our villages branches off.  We'll bike back to our villages, 10k for Nancy and 21k for me.  Not a bad ride, unless it's rained recently, making the roads less passable.

I just had a very Burkina moment.  I'd written several paragraphs of my blog and the power went out, erasing all that I'd written.  This is definitely not an uncommon occurence, so one learns to take it in stride...and remember to save intermittently next time.

Anyhow, as I mentioned in my last entry, the past ten days have constituted a barrage of impressions and experiences.  I tried to render a physical description of Diabo and my new home, but the people I've encountered so far, particularly my homologue (counterpart) and the school faculty of école 'B', have definitely provided the foundation of my introduction to Diabo and experiences thus far.

I guess I'll start by describing a typical day en Diabo:

I typically wake up between 6:00 and 7:00, to the sounds of roosters crowing, donkeys baying, and my noisy pig-neighbors.  If it's cool (ish, this is relative, of course), I'll head out for an early morning run along the main road or any number of footpaths that traverse the village and head to the smaller outlying villages around Diabo.  My favorite so far is the path that goes past école 'B' to the barrage (a sort of resevoir) of Yentenga, a neighboring village (there are crocs!).  People here don't seem as suprised by my athletic endeavors (which they refer to as "faire du sport") as people in Sananga, my host village during stage, did.  In Sananga, my runs evoked a combination of amusement and confusion and typically caused a parade of children to run behind me in pied piper-esque fashion.  I chalk up the greater degree of acceptance in Diabo to the fact that it's a larger, better-educated village with a host of battery-powered televisions (hence exposure to the notion of exercise).

After my run, I'll boil water for Nescafé (delicious) and oatmeal, which one can procure in Fada or Ouaga, while listening to the BBC.  BBC World News and Focus on Africa are a god-send, as is my shortwave hand-crank radio.  In general, I feel better informed in regard to world news here than I ever did in the States.  I think this is a result of the amound of undisturbed time I have to listen to the radio and the effectiveness with which I'm able to absorb information here as opposed to in the States, where every day we're presented with an onslaught of information.  I typically read for a while in the morning as well, having stocked up on books at the Peace Corps hostel before heading ot site.  I have a motley collection ranging from Salinger's "Nine Stories" to Edith Wharton's "The House of Mirth" to "The Wealth and Poverty of Nations" and "A Beginner's Guide to the World Economy."  The ability to read often and undisturbed here feels almost decadent and is definitely a huge benefit of Peace Corps life!

I typically have a few visitors throughout the morning, most often the gaggle of kids from my neighboring quartier and Moussa, one of the teachers at école 'B' who has stayed in Diabo during the vacation and has been incredibly helpful in helping me to settle in.  I try to venture out by mid-morning and will head to the marché around noon on market day (every third day) where I'll sit with Aisattu, my homologue, and Alice, the secretary of école 'B', while they vend gateaux (fried cakes) and peanuts.  They're situated in a prime socializing and people-watching location, so the market presents the best opportunity to get to know new people.  We'll causer (chat) in French and I'll listen as they talk (read: gossip) in Zaoré.  The market in Diabo is impressively large with scores of vegetable and fruit vendors, a number of butchers, shops to buy hardware and household goods, and shops selling clothes, shoes, and brightly colored cloth and pagnes.  There are also several tailors, mechanics, and hair salons (there are some incredibly intricate hairstyles here).

Aside from the marché, I'll often just head out for a bike ride or walk and inevitably end up talking to someone en route or stopping for tea in someone's quartier.  Every journey outside of the house presents a host of opportunities for social interaction and it is impossible and completely impolite to pass someone you know without inquiring as to their health, that of their family, the state of their work, etc.  

The first full day I spent in Diabo, Moussa and I made a tour of the local authories, the Prefet, Gendarme, Inspecteur, the Centre Medicale, etc. so I was introduced to most of the functionaires in Diabo and had an opportunity to see their offices.  Since then I've also visisted two of the outlying villages. Alice took me to her quartier in Yentenga (the quartier of her husband, her family is from Diabo proper so she'll stay there from time to time as well).  I met her three children and members of her husband's family, including her father-in-law, who is the chief of Yentenga.  We had a long chat in French and he expressed how happy he was that I was here and promised to take me to see the barrage during the season when the crocs come out of the water frequently.  

I've also visited a number of other quartiers, including that of Aisattu.  (A quartier is a large, family compound which is home to 3-4 generations of a family and is typically made up of a number of mud-brick buildings and round, mud huts with straw roofs).  In general, I feel like I've gotten to know so many people and already seen so much in village, which is more than I expected to accomplish during my first week and a half at site.  It's definitely a testament to the preparation and cultural knowledge we acquired during stage that I've started the process of integration so smoothly.

So you're probably think "that's great, Chrissy, but what about your JOB?" which is a very reasonable question.  Because of the nature of Girls' Ed, our sector, and the fact that a lot of the sensibilisation (don't know how to say that in English) we'll do is on an informal, social level, we're encouraged to hold off on diving into projects until we bien integré and get to know our schools and communities well.  Beyond that, school doesn't start until mid-October, after the rainy season and harvest.  I am, however, already a bit restless and have definitely experienced some moments of boredom so far.   I look forward to the return of the rest of the school staff and the opportunity to start brainstorming some projects.  In the meantime, I hope to conduct some community assesment meetings and activities with various community members to guage village needs and resources and generally garner necessary and useful knowledge as I meet people and learn more about Diabo.

So for now, my days consist of socializing, improving my French (by socializing), and working on local language.  I try to take a bike ride each evening if possible, to explore the greater-Diabo area and check out the outlying villages (not too mention the gorgeous vistas en route).  I took one such ride a few nights ago, venturing far down the road to Koudougou despite the ominous thunderclouds looming in the distance.  I deservedly got caught in an absolute downpour, arriving in centre-ville drenched but amused and a bit of a spectacle for the villagers.

I've also had the pleasure of a visit from Nancy, my neighbor of 12k, who came to Diabo to take advantage of our market, check out the village, and engage in some much needed English conversation.  Before we travelled here to Fada, I spent the night in her village and received a much needed haircut.  I'm lucky to not only have a neighbor in close proximity, but one skilled in the art of cutting hair, so that I won't look like totally ridiculous when I come home in two years. We indulged in some chocolate, peanut butter and jelly, and American tunes via my iPod during my visit - a much needed dose of America.

So that's a bit on my last ten days.  I could go on but I think that this would turn into even more of a rambling incoherent mess, so I'll sign off now.  Overall things are great and I'm really happy with the beginning of my sejours en Diabo.  There are still lots of trying moments of frustration, loneliness, and fatigue and there are some people au village a bit disdainful or skeptical of my presence.  Luckily, I was proceeded by several well-liked volunteers in other sectors, so many people have some knowledge of Peace Corps,  understand my general purpose and are overall very receptive.  Beyond that, I have found myself amongst a group of people ready and enthusiastic to aid me in my integration and endeavors.  Alice and Aisattu, in particular, have shown me so
 much kindness and will, I hope, evolve into good friends.  It's almost stunning how we've 
already developed a rapport, despite our differences in race, ethnicity, age, language, and 
circumstance in general.  If anything, this experience is an incredible education in humanity
 and the essence of human relations.  As much as I learned and gained in four years of college, I'm certain I'll take more with me from my two years in Africa. 

Diabo: Home Sweet Home!

Hi, All and Greetings from the East. I'm in Fada N'Gourma, my regional capital, spending the night at a hostel here to run some errands, visit the marché, and take des petite vacances from life au village.

It's been a week and a half since we left for our sites/villages and things are going better than I could have hoped. I'm so happy with my new home thus far and have already met so many kind, interesting, and welcoming people. I'm optimistic at the prospect of two years here, from the quality of the community itself to the potential to do some really neat things with Girls' Education in collaboration with the school faculties and community members in Diabo.

I arrived a week from this past Sunday after spending a day and night here in Fada with the other volunteers whose sites are in my region. It was nice to have one last night with a smaller group before heading off Sunday morning. My neighbor, Nancy, and I were driven to our sites in a Peace Corps car piled high with our bikes, luggage, and household items we'd acquired in Ouaga and Fada. I was surpisingly at ease as we turned off the paved road onto the dirt road leading to our villages. I was the last one to be dropped off and was immediately greeted by my homologue, several teachers, and the APE (equivalent of PTA) members of the primary school I'm assigned to. They helped me to settle in and made sure that everything was in order as far as my house. After unloading my things, we sat under my hangar (porch area with a thatched roof) and drank some sucréries (sodas) while I was introduced to everyone. The first night was a little overwhelming, but I was so pleased with the warm welcome I'd received and the kind attention of so many people that I immediately felt secure and fairly at ease.

The last ten days have been a great introduction to my village and the people of Diabo. I have so much to report that I'm not sure where to begin, so I'll start with my house. It's much larger than my stage house in Sananga and is made of cement instead of mud bricks. It consists of two large rooms with screened in windows, high ceilings, a tin roof, and a screen door and large metal outter door. Thus far, the only furniture I've acquired is a bed made of petit bois (little wood)which is slightly reminscent of the Flinstones but is surpisingly comfy with my Burkinabé mattress (and mosquito net canopy). I've erected a makeshift table with leftover cement blocks for my gas stove and have a lonely metal and canvas chair on loan from a neighbor, as well as several brightly-colored mats on which to sit. I also have a Burkinabé water cooler (sans the cool water)which consists of my water filter and a huge plastic garbage can next to it, in which I keep my supply of h2o. I did order several pieces of furniture from a carpenter in my village, including a bookshelf and two tables. For now my house is a bit bare, but it's already starting to feel like MY house.

My house is down a dirt path off of the main dirt road just before it reaches the center of town. The director of my school and a teacher at the village Catholic school are my nearest neighbors. My courtyard does include two other houses, one of which is still under construction and the other which is now uninhabited. I'm told, however, that it will host another nasara (!), a woman of presently unknown ethnicity who works with a Catholic NGO. Currently, my house is surrounded by fields of sky-high corn, millet, and sorghum plants, obstructing the view of my neighbors houses and affording an almost lonely degree of privacy (good thing the Burkinabé are big on visiting at ALL hours). My closest neighbors are, in actuality, a mama pig and her piglets who live under a tree just beyond my courtyard wall...and they are a NOISY bunch!

So that's my house, now onto the village itself.  It's quite big for a Burkinabé village, as it is the center of the administrative Department and thus home to many government offices, as well as the local police.  There is one main road that goes through Diabo from the paved road to Fada, 21k north, all the way down to Koudougou, close to the borders with Ghana and Togo.  Lots of smaller dirt paths that are traversable by foot, bike, and moto, head off to the surrounding villages.  On the outskirts of the village are several municipal buildings including the office of the Prefet (political head of the Department) and the Inspecteur d'Education. As you approach centre-ville, there are compounds of mud brick buildings and mud huts with straw roofs on either side, as well as roadside kiosques that sell anything from petrol to soap to rice.  The first major building is a "Centre Des Enfants" which serves as both an orphanage and rehabilitation facility for malnourished babies and children.  After that, there is a large dirt road off to the right which leads up to the huge "Eglise Catholique" and the Catholic mission of Diabo.  The majority of people in Diabo are Catholic, although there are also Protestants, Muslims, and animism that pervades all forms of religion.  The mission is an impressively large compound and includes a monastery with nuns from Burkina and several European countries, as well as a French priest.  Past the church is one of the primary schools and a grove of delightfully big, tall tress.  After that is a small pond and streamwith a bridge, past which lies the path to Diabo's large marché which takes place every three days and has provided the best means of social integration for me thus far.

As it is currently the height of the rainy season, Diabo is resplendant in green, from the crops to the wide variety of trees (baobab, karité, palm, etc.).  It is positively lush in comparison with our host villages up North.   I can best describe the topography as savannah presently, as the land is usually flat, sometimes a bit rolling, with frequent rock formations and boulders as well as tall grass and numerous trees.  This description may not apply during the saison seche (dry season).  I'll have to report on that as I experience it, since I have little concept as to how much the land will dry up after the rainy season.  Our group has been spoiled in our introduction to Burkina during the rainy season.

While I've discussed the physical elements of my village and new home, the people of Diabo, particularly my homologue (counterpart) and school faculty, have made the biggest impression on me thus far.  I hope to get back online tomorrow, since I haven't begun to delve into the barrage of impressions and experiences that have constituted the past ten days.  In many ways, this experience continues to feel like the discovery of a totally new world, so far removed from my life in the States and so fundamentally different.  Despite the radical polarity of existence here, the commonalities of human experience are the defining elements of day-to-day life here, as I adapt to life in Diabo get to know my community.

My time's about up, 'til tomorrow.

Wend na kond nidaare (Mooré benediction: "until next time")

Smiles,

Chrissy