Ny Taabo!

Africa tell me Africa
Is this you this back that is bent
This back that breaks under the weight of humiliation
This back trembling with red scars
And saying yes to the whip under the midday sun
But a grave voice answers me
Impetuous son, that tree young and strong
That tree there
In splendid loneliness amidst white and faded flowers
That is Africa your Africa
That grows again patiently obstinately
And its fruit gradually acquire
The bitter taste of liberty

David Diop, “Africa”

Hey, All -

I know what you're thinking..."back again, so soon?" Well, yeah. I'm here in Ouaga, revelling in the glory of a significantly air-conditioned room, taking temporary refuge from the unrelenting heat. I came into the city to submit my application for funding for a new classroom building for my village's junior/senior high school and to type up some work reports.

I thought I'd take the opportunity to share some pictures from my Easter adventures in village. I threw a rockin' par-tay for my friend Sali's baptism (lots of folks here are baptized or married on Easter weekend). The turnout was excellent - the bissap, zom kom, and dolo were flowing ( boiled hibiscus leaf juice, sweet beverage made from millet powder, and village brew, respectively) the riz gras was aplenty, as was the goat and we danced our socks off (ok, no socks were worn) 'til the wee hours. Villageois, fonctionnaires, two of my Peace Corps neighbors, young and old alike came out to celebrate Sali's now-official Catholocism and check out my sweet new digs (i.e. my most excellent new house). It was a fete to end all fetes...but I'll let you judge for yourself.

That's a lot of riz gras....

Village ladies filling up buckets of bissap, zom kom, and dolo

A group of male fonctionnaires (principals, teachers, etc.)

and Theo, my second-nearest PC neighbor

Three high school teachers and the primary education inspector

Friends

Les filles - some junior high girls who helped to serve guests and do dishes

Arnold, enjoying some riz gras

The girls - taking a break

Marcel, the president of the high school parents' association and Martine, his wife - good friends and my favorite couple in village. They're often referred to as "les amoureux" because they're love for one another is amazingly evident in a culture where egality and affection are typically taboo.

Adissa, a good friend, and a neighbor.

Aicha, adorably percocious and one of my favorite petites.

Two elementary school teachers from a neighboring village.

Me and Orelia, one of my volunteer neighbors - she biked a good 30k to visit.

Sali and I in front a my blackboard, which Orelia and I decorated festively. It says: "Happy Easter, Joyeuse Fete de Paques and Ny Taabo (Moore for "happy celebration")"

Yambila and me - this is "mam kiera" ("mon cheri") that I referred to in my last entry.

Balagissa and daughter, Michelline

Amisatu and Alima

Germaine (a teacher at my primary school) and daughter, Shakianatu

Neighbor girls and frequent visitors - they got the leftovers

Sali, dancing to traditional drumming - the drums are called "tam tams"

Orelia, dancing up a storm

Me, trying with little success to emulate traditional dance. In my village, if you dance well (or are a nasara who gives it a good try) they put money (5 or 10 cfa coins) on your back, as a neighbor is doing in the photo.

Kadi, getting her dance on

More drumming and dancing...

Amisatu dancing.

Sali and I in our Easter/baptism complets. The complets are covered in tiny crosses with large pictures of a a chalice and host that says "ceci mon corps, ceci mon sang (here is my body, here is my blood)." Somehow, here in West Africa, it's ok that I'm wearing this getup. Interestingly, Orelia, the volunteer neighbor who was visiting that weekend, is Unitarian Universalist, like myself. We figured that embracing Catholicism on Easter weekend was appropriate given our liberal religious roots.

Me and baby Michelline, seconds before she peed on me.

According to the ladies in village, this is good luck and means that I'll have lots of children.

So, there you have it. We partied like it was 2007.

Other than being the hostess with the mostest, I've been working on commencing with some new projects in village - a microenterprise/income-generating endeavor with some village ladies and a mentoring program between high school and primary school girls. I hope to have a group of 4 - 6 older high school girls to work with this summer. I'd like to collaborate with them to develop a curriculum that they'll facilitate with older primary-school girls beginning the next academic year. We'll cover everything from HIV/AIDS to "what's junior high really like?" to activities promoting responsible decision making and goal setting, etc. I hope,with their insights and input, to produce a document so that they will ultimately be able to not only facilitate the activities, but also train the next group of girls, thereby making the project sustainable and my participation unnecessary.

That's all I've got. Thanks for reading,

Chrissy

“The [Bush] administration also noted that U.S. aid to Africa “has almost tripled” during its tenure in the White House. But Steven Radelet, a senior fellow at the Center for Global Development in Washington, told the New York Times that American aid to Africa, totaling less than $5 a year per African is “About the same as what many Americans spend each morning for coffee and a bran muffin.” Most Americans believe that the United States spends 24 percent of its budget on poor countries, but the actual figure is less than one-quarter of one percent.”

- Charlayne Hunter-Gault, “New News Out of Africa: Uncovering Africa's Renaissance”