She Works Hard for the Money...

Well, the working hard may be true enough but it's sure not for the money (though, as you can imagine, $240 a month goes a lot further in the W. African bush than...anywhere in America).

We finished up the aforementioned APE/AME (Parents' Association/Mothers' Association) Workshop this past Friday. It was a productive week, though indescribably frustrating at times. Despite the fact that we were working with some high level civil servants, there remained a constant and sometimes insurmountable cultural barrier in terms of professional norms and approaches to the tasks at hand. A lot of our activities focused on groupwork, which was at once enriching and infuriating. I found myself often playing the role of taskmaster and having to guide (sometimes not so subtly) the group discussions back toward a more relevant course. It was pretty fascinating to observe how the education system in Burkina Faso and cultural norms impact professional life and, specifically, efficiency and productivity. It's easy, even after 15 months here, to take for granted the cultural and professional norms of the U.S. and "developed world." Tangents and anecdotes, no matter how related or relevant they are to a conversation, are typically unacceptable, especially in a structured and scheduled work environment. I found myself constantly looking at my watch and venting to other, equally frustrated volunteers during our coffee and lunch breaks. Despite the frustrations, however, we managed to produce some valuable material for the manual that will result from our efforts and I was able to conceptualize and articulate more fully and realistically the activities that I have in mind for the coming school year, such as meeting protocol and management training for the Parents' Associations and specific activities with the students at my primary school. All in all, a positive and useful experience.

Kim and I articulating some fascinating and important points.

And the ground-breaking ideas flow...

Group work. Many brains are better than...

You can't see the audience but, believe me, they were riveted.

Flip charts - a Peace Corps volunteers' best friend.

Girls' Ed and Empowerment volunteers.

Burkinabé workshop participants.

Volunteers, counterparts, and education officials.




"He scoured the bookstores on the Boulevard St.-Michel for African travel books written in English. He found books aplenty on traveling in East Africa, but nothing on West Africa...Tourists, it seemed, preferred lions and the Serengeti Plain to poverty and the Sahel."

Richard Dooling, "White Man's Grave"

"...the beauty of the rain...

is how it falls..."


And falls. And falls. And falls.

In the last month the rain gods have descended upon Burkina Faso with a vengeance, at least in the East, where deluge after deluge has left us…soggy. They came a bit late this year but have certainly left their mark. My village is dramatically transformed, resplendent in every imaginable hue of green. As the millet, sorghum and corn continue to grow, people have begun to emerge from the fields, the majority of actual cultivation completed. Tending and weeding are the tasks that remain until the harvest in October. Unfortunately the volume of rain that continues currently threatens crops in more vulnerable areas. Though we're hoping for a gentle conclusion to the season, it still pours at least every other day.

As the beginning of the school year approaches, I find myself in Ouagadougou for a Girls' Ed and Empowerment workshop regarding collaboration with our village parents' associations (APE = Parents' Association, AME = Mothers' Association). The APE/AME workshop includes 9 volunteers and accompanying APE/AME members from their villages (mine is my counterpart and treasurer of my school's APE, Aissatu), as well as officials from the central and regional bureaus of Burkina's Ministry of Primary Education and Department for the Promotion of Girls' Education. The week consists of various lectures, presentations, group activities and, most importantly, the creation of a manual specific to collaborating with APE/AME that will serve as a guide for future generations of volunteers. We just wrapped up our first day, which was so chock full of information that I find myself a bit fatigued, as a scheduled 8-5 day is a little more intensive than what I'm used to in village.

One thing that I've noted about the workshop so far reinforces a characteristic of Peace Corps that I've really come to appreciate, as my understanding of and experiences with development work grow. In order to establish their volunteer programs in a given country and as an appendage of the U.S. government, Peace Corps must be invited by that country's government. As a result, health volunteers collaborate with the Ministry of Health, secondary ed volunteers with the Ministry of Secondary Education, etc. This collaboration gives volunteers a better chance of facilitating projects that are relevant, as we have an immediate and reciprocal relationship with civil servants at a variety of levels. For instance, though I have yet to embark on any major collaboration with officials at the provincial level, I have sought their advice on numerous occassions and taken advantage of their contacts for projects I've undertaken. I also work closely with the Inspection (department-wide administrative body for primary schools) in my village, and hope to facilitate training for many of the APE/AME in our department (which has 29 primary schools) in partnership with my Inspection order to enable them to function more effectively.

I think the fact of Peace Corps' integration within government institutions and the specific programs they've undertaken negates a lot of the criticisms that I'm aware of (and that irk me enormously). We are not intelligence gatherers or remnants of a darker, colonial era and we're not shouldering the white man's burden. We're trying to help our host-country colleagues shoulder theirs. Peace Corps volunteers are, generally speaking, the best integrated, most culturally aware strangers that you'll find in any given developing country. I guarantee it.

A propos to rainy season work...it's been slow going, but I did pull off a pretty neat tree planting project. Moringa oleifera is an astoundingly nutritious, multifunctional tree native to India found in tropical, semi-arid and arid climates. "India's ancient tradition of ayurveda says the leaves of the Moringa tree prevent 300 diseases. Modern science confirms the basic idea. Scientific research has proven that these humble leaves are in fact a powerhouse of nutritional value. Gram for gram, Moringa leaves contain: 7 times the vitamin C found in oranges, 4 times the calcium found in milk, 4 times the vitamin A in carrots, 2 times the protein in milk, and 3 times the potassium found in bananas." (http://treesforlife.org/) Aside from their excceptional nutritional value, Moringa leaves can be used for medicinal purposes, to purify drinking water, to make vegetable oil for use as a healthier alternative to palm oil, as feed to improve the health of livestock and, when planted in and around gardens and fields, their fallen leaves improve plant growth and crop yield. Not too shabby.

Having learned about Moringas from a health volunteer, I went out in search of seeds in my region (where Moringas are fairly rare, unlike some other regions of Burkina). I stopped by an "éspace vert" (nursery) in Fada N'Gourma, my regional capital. The extremely kind and helpful owner enthusiastically showed me his Moringa tree and sold me 200+ seeds for the equivalent of about 50 cents. Next, I went to my local "forestier" (don't know how to explain his function, he's like a department (county)-wide official who gives people permission to cut down trees and is responsible for area forestry and environmental projects initiated by the gov't and NGOs). He offered me planting advice and had one of his helpers plant the seeds and raise the seedlings in a fenced in garden area until they were mature enough for distribution. I also worked with my good friends, Marcel and Martine Comberé, a dynamic village couple who are the president of our high school's APE and the president of our women's association respectively. They helped convene a meeting of the women's association at our village "maison de la femme" (women's community center) to educate those present on the value of Moringa, plant trees at the center and distribute over 150 seedlings to villagers. Our first meeting was a success and I look forward to repeating the experience and continuing with sessions involving the many uses of the plants (after those planted this summer are mature enough). Some people in village have already started using the leaves to make sauce that's served with tô, the staple dish in Burkina made from millet or corn. Since the sauce has more potential for nutrional value than the carbohydrate base (which consists of ground millet or corn "flour" mixed with water, then whipped into a malleable liquid that is cooked and shaped into servings the shape of a flying saucer), the leaves and vegetables used in the sauce (baobab leaves, okra, Moringa) can have a huge impact on health. All in all, an exciting undertaking with lots of possibilities for the coming year.

Now for a few pictures...

Richard, my friend's son, and a Moringa tree, only a few weeks after it was planted as a very small seedling. These suckers grow fast!

Loading up the trees before our education session my village's women's association.

And the educating begins.





Marcel interpreting my French presentation in local language.
It sounded so much more interesting in Mooré.








Planting Moringa trees outside the "Maison de la Femme" (women's community center).





Many hands make light work.





Me and village ladies planting.




Martine and trees.

Madame Legma, Governor of the Central-North region, putting in some face time with the village ladies. She's one of 3 female governors in Burkina and is originally from my village. She visits regularly and provides our women's association (and me) with a lot of support.

So that's the news that's fit. It's been over 15 months since I arrived and I've gotta say, I'm at once amazed that I've made it this far, enthusiastic for the next year, and wary of how quickly I know it will pass. That said, knowing that I'll be home to visit in 3 months is...fantastic. My plane tickets are booked and I'm mentally preparing for the cold and snow of WNY and the overwhelming excess and ease of l'Amerique in general. It's gonna be good.

Thanks for reading.

'Til next time (provided I don't float away during the next downpour),

Chrissy

"Here is a starving child, there is a mad dog; feed her, bomb him...information about Africa reaches us, most of the time, through a series of filters which, by reducing the vast continent to a cluster of emotive slogans, succeed in denying us any sense of complexity, context, truth...the West was always rather arbitrary about the names it pinned to Africa: Nigeria was named for an imperialist's wife, Ethiopia lazily derived from the Greek for 'a person with a black face.'"


Salman Rushdie, "Imaginary Homelands"

"Nothing ever stands still.

We must add to our heritage or lose it,

we must grow greater or grow less,

we must go forward or backward."

George Orwell, "The Lion and the Unicorn"

song of the moment: Imogen Heap's "Hide and Seek"
book i've read that you should too: Jeffrey Sachs' "The End of Poverty"

Growing Pains

Nobody said it was easy.
No one ever said it would be this hard.

- Coldplay, "The Scientist"


To see things plainly, you have to cross a frontier.

- Salman Rushdie, "Imaginary Homelands"

Life is full of turning points and moments of staggering clarity. My Peace Corps experience is, conversely, often composed of the opposite: moments of frustrating half-comprehension, cross-cultural confusion, blunders, and disappointing or unpleasant revelations. Thus, those rare, lucid moments of self-perception and insight, the bittersweet fruits of an endless journey, are unparalleled in value and significance. I recently happened upon one of those experiences of self-realization that caused me to reevaluate my current frame of mind and approach to this nebulous, enigmatic undertaking that is Peace Corps in Burkina Faso.

I departed on my recent trip to Ghana eager, I'll go so far as to say desperate, to leave Burkina and its reality behind. Ghana offered the prospect of a refreshingly positive (read: more developed) environment free from my consistent and very personal encounters with poverty and all its appurtenances in Burkina. Beyond a much-needed break from reality and a few days on the beach, this trip held the significance of a reunion with one of my very best friends from high school.

In the weeks preceding the trip, I had undeniably reached a low point in service, as was predicted by the graph of volunteers' emotional flux that we'd been given during training (it resembles, quite literally, a rollercoaster). The year mark typically constitutes the down-slope of a low point, an anticlimax of the cross-cultural experience and, for many volunteers, THE low point of service insofar as its intensity and duration. I had thought myself atypical, successful in staving off the predicted case of mid-service blues, until I suddenly found myself quite discouraged, mired in homesickness and discontent. What better time for a vacation, you might suggest?

While the trip was certainly good overall, seeing my close friend was at once a wonderful and welcome relief and an unexpected burden. I found myself looking at myself through her eyes and coming up sorely and unexpectedly disappointed. My self-perception, or the self I had hoped that my friend would perceive was an "adventuring-embarking, Africa-exploring" me, but me in reality was an emotionally fatigued, conversationally challenged shadow of a happier self. This was compounded by the fact that my friend of over a decade is significant to me of so much that is good, in a very personal sense - of home and a full and fulfilling adolescence, of enthusiasm, drive, and dynamism, of some of my most formative experiences and endeavors and of many of the truest and best qualities and parts of myself. I was caught treading water by someone capable not only of recognizing it, but of unwittingly holding up a mirror in which my sorry image was reflected.

This all sounds pretty pitiful, but the experience succeeded in giving me the proverbial kick in the pants that I needed. I certainly lamented the fact, both during and after the trip, that I had been down and out and a bit of a stick-in-the-mud at times, but seeing my friend was probably more helpful than anything in prompting me to get back on track psychologically and emotionally, often not a small feat here in the wilds of West Africa. That said, this whole Peace Corps deal is pretty sweet and, now that I'm back in action, recharged and ready to go, I'm fully aware of just how truly sweet it is and, more than ever, I understand just how profoundly and positively this experience has affected me.

I spent a few days in Ouaga after getting back from Ghana and had lots of soul-searching conversations with PCV friends, questioning myself and this experience and whether I could really hack it for another year. I headed back to village with a bit of trepidation only to find that I was literally able to breath a sigh of relief when I stepped out of the bush taxi into my village. I was greeted with such enthusiasm by friends and colleagues and was overwhelmed with the feelings of comfort and familiarity that immediately washed over me. Diabo is home and these people are MY people. What a crazy, beautiful, unbelievable thing. I live in a West African village and its people have taken ownership over me. I am their child, albeit of a slightly lighter hue than most.

A group of women come up to me as I was walking down the road in village the other day. None of them spoke any French beyond a few greetings, but they conveyed their feelings to me via a series of gestures and some words in Zaore that I actually understand. After repeatedly pointing at me, then pointing at their breasts and making suckling noises I realized what the women were trying to tell me: "you are our daughter."

To understand just one life, you have to swallow the world.

- Salman Rushdie, "Midnight's Children"

Ghana, Part Deux

I'm back in Burkina after two weeks in the greener, cooler climes of Ghana where I frolicked on the sands of the Gold Coast and enjoyed some excellent hospitality in Kumasi, catching up with one of my best friends from home who is working in Ghana for the summer. I headed down on my own, staying in Kumasi for a few days, then continued south to the coast to meet up with some other volunteers and, finally, back to Kumasi for a few days. Here's a glimpse of my trip in photos...

Beinvenue au Ghana. Au revoir Burkina!

Our chariot.

Kumasi. The prolific pavement and traffic required some getting used to.

Leslie with some ladies at a lunch spot near the hospital where she works.



Vikki and Leslie, conducting interviews with sickle cell patients at Komfo Anokye Teaching Hospital.




Leslie and a patient.




Anastasia doing activities with a girls' group at the hospital.



On the road again. Headed from Accra to Akwidaa.

A colonial fort on the coast. They were used by the Netherlands, England, Portugal, Denmark, Sweden and Germany for defensive purposes and as centers of trade of ivory, gold, sugar, spices, animal hides, etc. They also played a significant role in the Atlantic slave trade.

Fresh pineapple, yum!

The beach!

Leslie on the beach in front of the Green Turtle Lodge, hooray for several days next to the ocean!

A photographic shoutout to Lea - Ghana misses you.

Couldn't imagine a more beautiful landscape having not seen the ocean (or any signigicant body of water) in six months.

Our accomodation at Green Turtle - all the rooms are solar powered and just comfortable enough to feel like luxury not totally incongruent with the existence of a Peace Corps volunteer.

Sarah and Giorgio beach-ing.

Jenni and I taking a moment to appreciate our environs.

Enjoying some good reading after breakfast...with REAL coffee!

We headed down the beach to the Safari Beach Lodge for dinner one night. A twilight view.

Baked brie, fresh kingfish and well-mixed cocktails. The restaurant/accomodations are owned by a Texan couple so, while the atmosphere was African, the hospitality was distinctly American.

Beth and Giorgio.

Jenni and I.

Our bill. 1,230,000 cedi. Happily, Ghana is in the process of adjusting their currency so that 10,000 cedi will now equal 1.

Back in Kumasi. Dinner with the UPenn crew and friends.

Enjoying a meal of Ghanaian cuisine.

The market.

Stalls precariously perched over a section of the market.

Produce.

Beth, Jenni and I at the cultural center in Kumasi, engaging in potentially culturally inappropriate behavior. We did some serious shopping at the array of shops at the center, scoring some excellent gifts and gorgeous batik fabric from which to have some "haute couture" tailored for our ever-growing African wardrobes.

Leslie and Anastasia's birthday party, complete with an impressive sound system and some tasty refreshments.

Leslie and colleagues.

Jenni, Theo, and I.

And the party continues...

So that was my vacation. Jenni and I weathered a 20-hour bus ride back to Burkina complete with mechanical "challenges" and a few delays...but we're back, refreshed in body and spirit and ready to commence Year 2 in Burkina.