Bush Life Begins

I have been living in my community for almost two weeks, and am still adjusting to life in the bush.  Everything is still so new, and my Basseri language skills are not much beyond the obligatory salutations.  Basseri is the language of my village, so if I want to communicate with my neighbors with something more than a smile and a wave of the hand, I don’t really have a choice.  I am also learning Pular, as it is the language of the neighboring villages.  Not only am I trying to establish my own routine, but I also am trying to observe what habits and customs the community will be most amenable to change or improve.  Some of these changes are as simple as teaching my village a more humane way to kill a chicken, or getting my counterpart to help me extend a well next to a (currently) fallow garden.

Though I am still very much a new arrival in my village, I have already had a meeting with the “president” of the local groupements (somewhat similar to the business cooperative concept in the United States) and with the superintendent of the region’s school system.  The three of us spent a recent afternoon reviewing activities I should be focusing on in my first month. (I am still trying to figure out why the superintendent of the school system is interested in working with an Agroforestry extension PCV, but as long as he can help me with my projects, I’m glad to have him.)  In addition, I am not sure if this level of support or expectation is typical of the Peace Corps experience, but it can be a bit overwhelming.  We came up with a list of EIGHT projects I need to start in the next month.  And I thought the typical PCV only worked on one or two projects! Generally, the communities seem pretty excited that I am here and eager to lend my expertise and knowledge.  I’ve told them that I don’t have all the answers and will likely make many mistakes, but they keep looking at me as if I am some sort of magician!  Usually, volunteers don’t start any projects until they’ve been living in their communities for a few months, but I guess you have to consider the needs and the work cycle of each village.

Finally, if this isn’t enough for me to think about so quickly, unforeseen incidents “happen” in my village.  For example, the other night my counterpart (I will call him Robert) comes home from a trip to Koundara where he sold a sack of peanuts and tells me that 4 of his chickens died today after eating rodent poison that was in the grain storage hut.  His wife had discovered them after he had already left for town.  All livestock animals are highly valued in Guinea, as they are a source of either food for the family, or money from their sale at the market.  Robert was really upset with himself, as he valued the loss as equal to one adult sheep, which for the family, was not insignificant.  After having been informed of the deaths while in Koundara, Robert decides to buy a 3 month old kitten from a friend, wisely thinking that the cat will be a safer alternative than poison to control the mice/rat population.  Unfortunately, Robert makes the decision to transport the kitten in a woven grain sack for the journey back to the village.  At some point in his journey back home, the cat starts getting really anxious (or angry) and bites Robert through the feedbag.  This prompts Robert to jettison the grain sack by the side of the road, losing both the bag and the kitten. 

Upon hearing that Robert has been bitten by a potentially rabid animal, I try to explain to him the potential seriousness of his situation.  Since my French still is at an intermediate low level, I also enlist the help of the  Peace Corps’ regional coordinator in Boké to explain what rabies is and why Robert needs to be on guard for the next 10 days, (in addition to seeing a doctor.)

If this wasn’t enough to think about, Robert (and the rest of the family), decide to eat the poisoned chickens!  He assures me that he has done this (eat poisoned chickens) several times before, and that I have nothing to worry about.  (Yet he still keeps using poison rodent bait and losing chickens!)  Robert, being the culturally sensitive Guinean that he is, respects my decision not to eat any of the poisoned chicken meat.  However, he is open to other forms of rodent control that are more effective and safer than poison or freaked out kittens!

So if someone could send me some mice and rat traps, it would greatly be appreciated!

Graduation and Installation

February 4, 2014

Finally the moment has arrived for us to graduate to Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs).  Not that any of us had any doubts, as G25 (the 25^th group of Guinean Peace Corps volunteers) is a very strong and cohesive group.  We all have been keeping our expectations reasonable as we have already seen the difficulties that the average Guinean faces on a daily basis. 

The festivities began at 11 am at the newly built (but not yet completed) Peace Corps training center in Dubreka.  Because we were inaugurating a new complex, some very important people were invited, including the Prime Minister of Guinea and the American ambassador to Guinea.  In addition, a (or THE) Guinean television station was present to record the ceremony and broadcast it later that day.  There were many introductions, speeches and some Guinean music and dancing, The festivities ended with a traditional lunch of rice and sauce.  (I was a bit disappointed that the fete did not include any American culinary specialties, but perhaps because so many people were invited, it wasn’t in the budget??)



Good music...



and dancing!



Graduation photo with my host mother, two brothers and Alex Laskaris, the U.S. Ambassador to Guinea

 

Then it was off to Conakry for final preparations for our sites.  This included receiving our settling in allowance and first payment as a volunteer. This allowance is comfortable enough to purchase a luxury or two, such as a portable propane stove, a smart phone, or even an American style mattress, but not too comfortable as to make us inaccessible to our villages.  Finally on Friday, we all said our goodbyes to each other as we headed off to our regional capitals and eventually to our individual sites.  (We will be rejoining one another again in three months for a two week training session.)  Soon, we will all be installed, learn a new language, and eventually, begin a project or two.  I for one am looking forward to permanently unpacking my suitcase and finding items that I forgot that I had brought!





Dinner at the Boke volunteer house with the regional support staff.



Do You Have Any More Seeds?

January 25, 2014

  

We are now in the final days of training in Dubreka before leaving for our sites in early February.  This also means that we are leaving our host families in Dubreka.  Like I mentioned before, living with a host family gives the volunteer a good representation of what life is like for the average Guinean, and introduces us to many of the customs in Guinean culture.  For the most part, there have been no surprises.  Although there are many things we have seen that need improvement for the city and for our families, it is difficult to be too ambitious when we know our stay is only ten weeks.

Before I came to Guinea, I made up my mind to try to give my family something in addition to the small gift that is usually given when a volunteer leaves.  One of the things I noticed when I moved in last month was the lack of a family garden, even though there was a space in the compound that was perfect for such a use.  I also noticed a flock of free range chickens.  Apparently, the family had tried to grow vegetables on a number of occasions, but the chickens had always destroyed it.   Fencing for gardens actually is a concern for everyone, as chickens are not the only animal that are allowed to free range in Guinea.

So over the course of my first six weeks, I was able to establish a small garden that generally was protected from the chickens.  I found that my design using fish net was effective at discouraging the chickens, though often they were persistent enough to find (or create a hole) in the net.

When I returned from my site visit on January 19^th, I decided to rebuild the fence one last time, with extra fish net, so that the garden would be as maintenance free as possible.  However, my mother having seen the possibilities of having a garden again, asked if I had more seeds.  It was a question I was not really expecting, as I believed that my mother had given up growing a garden forever.  But nothing is forever, not even in Guinea. 

My mother decided to enlarge the garden and build a much stronger fence.  I could not have been happier. I had already decided, though, that I was not going to build the fence for them.  I needed their (my two teenage brothers) help and involvement, as they were going to be in charge of maintaining it when I left.  In typical Guinean fashion, it took several days for the fence to be constructed.  However, it wasn’t because the family was lazy.  On the contrary, the children were attending Koranic school in the evening, and thus had little time free time for fence building.  Although this interruption or delay was a bit inconvenient FOR ME (as someone who likes to complete projects in a timely fashion), this delay showed me the difference in my values with respect to the Guineans.

Hence it was a pleasant surprise to come home on a recent Saturday after a field trip with my classmates to find a solid and well built palm frond fence.  Shortly afterwards, (well somewhat), I spent some time preparing the garden beds and planting additional vegetables.  The final task I have to complete before saying goodbye is to instruct my brothers and mother in my best French on proper harvesting techniques for their new vegetables (sweet corn, cauliflower, and butternut squash).  If possible, I might have one of my instructors check in on the garden since I will be 12 hours away.

If all goes well, I can bring by some new seeds when I visit next year and be greeted by Guineans excited to try something new!

Site Visit

January 8, 2013

Today we all left for a 10 day trip to visit our sites. The first order of business was to travel to Mamou in south central Guinea to meet our local counterparts and do some training together.  A counterpart, or homologue as we call them in Guinea, is a leader in the community who is responsible not only for partnering with the volunteer on their projects, but also with guiding their assigned volunteer through the cultural maze of Guinean language and customs.  Thus, it is very important that we have a good relationship with our counterpart, as each half is very dependent on the other. Part of forming this relationship began with setting ground rules and expectations for working together.

Then, we were off to our sites.  For the most part, volunteers traveled with their counterparts in Guinean taxis.  And there is no first class on these taxis.  Think coach, only worse.  Very little wiggle room makes for sore legs, backs and necks. For those who have never been to a third world country before, the quality of the roads can be awful as well.  Not only does the driver have to dodge potholes in the asphalt (if there is any), but also create detours around fallen trees or other obstacles. 

 

Thankfully, the group that was posted to the Koundara region of Guinea had the luxury of traveling in a Peace Corps 4 wheel drive SUV, so we made it to our sites in 10 hours.  The Koundara region is being re-populated with volunteers after many years of absence.  Thus my site, along with 4 others, had to be personally inspected by Yama, our Safety and Security Coordinator.

 Visiting our sites tended to divide the PCT into two groups: 

Yes, I have electricity!  (for a few lucky individuals)

and

I am so glad I purchased a solar charger!

Actually, we all are well aware that life in Guinea is very third world, and we did not expect many, if any, luxuries at our sites.  In many ways,

LIVING IN A HUT… IN A VILLAGE OF LESS THAN 100 HUMANS (BABIES AND SMALL CHILDREN INCLUDED) WITH NO ELECTRICITY…  OR RUNNING WATER…  IN THE BUSH… WITH FREE RANGE LIVESTOCK ROAMING THE LAND

is somewhat refreshing.  Gone are the distractions (loud noises, police sirens) and inconveniences (finding a parking space, traffic) of big city life.  Instead, the biggest inconvenience I have is being limited to a weekly market 7 kilometers away, and which also lacks the diversity that I was accustomed to in the States. I suppose if I get really hungry, I just have to pull out a shotgun and shoot.  I am bound to hit something edible (cow, goat, sheep, chicken, bird, donkey, mango).

(No, I did not bring a shotgun… it wouldn’t fit in my luggage!)

What followed in the next four days at my site has hopefully set the tone for the next 2+ years of my life in Guinea.  (With a few exceptions, I hope)  I (think) I met every single important person in my village and “county”, and listened as they spoke about me in a language I didn’t understand.  (That is always so comfortable… nodding and shaking your head whenever the speaker pauses to catch a breath!)  In addition, I shared a meal with the Sous-Prefet not less than three times. (The Sous Prefet is the highest appointed government official in the area and his approval or disapproval will greatly influence the success of my projects.)  In addition, I met with the local agriculture cooperatives in the area, gave a couple of impromptu speeches in French, visited the various dry season gardens (that contained almost exclusively onions), toured the bush surrounding my village, discussed potential projects with my counterpart and local agricultural extension agent, visited my counterpart’s apiary, was chased and stung by aggressive honeybees, and finally I hit my head on my hobbit hut which necessitated a trip to the hospital to get four stitches (and scared the beejeezes out my local village with all of the blood that I lost). 

Overall, my visit was very productive and I was happy that my counterpart and village appear to be motivated and open to change.  With my site visit complete, I traveled with my fellow PCTs to the regional PC house in Boké for a couple days of rest. (Two other regional houses are located in Labé and Kankan, and serve the volunteers in the Fouta and Haute regions.)  During our service, we are allotted 1 visit per month to our regional capital to collect our monthly salary, pick up any mail, and relax in relative luxury for rejuvenation.  (Showers, electricity and other English speaking humans make the regional Peace Corps houses a magnet for volunteers to chill.)  However, the trip from Koundara to Boké takes 8 hours on a good day, so I am sure there will be many months when I’ll just decide to stay in my village instead (or visit my fellow PCV’s in the region.)

Site Announcements

December 24, 2013

It is a moment most PCTs in Guinea look forward to.  The moment they find out where they will be spending the next two years in Guinea.  Guinea is divided into 4 main regions: the coastal Basse-Côte, the mountainous Fouta, the hot and dry Haute, and the Forest.  Peace Corps has a presence on three of the regions, with the exception being the Forest, where there has been too much intermittent conflict to risk sending PCVs in to do their work.

During the weeks leading up to our site announcement, we were asked about our desires and expectations.  Surprisingly, we do have some input as to where we will be living.  However, since none of us has been to Guinea before, the only information we have is what other volunteers have shared with us.  For me, the only real request was that I not be located near the ocean.  It is not that I don’t like the view, but that people who live in the coastal region eat a lot of fish as their main protein source, and I am not a big fan of fish (even before seeing and smelling the fish market in Conakry.)  Though my host family has avoided feeding me crab (called Gimba in the local Susu language) per my request, I think it would be difficult for me if I had to survive on fish as a main protein source.

So with a little fanfare, the Peace Corps staff announced our sites.  My site is in the Koundara prefecture, in the northwest region of Guinea.  Though technically in the Basse Côte region, it is far enough away from the ocean that that I won’t see fish on my plate every day.   Potential projects include: gardening (school and community), reforestation, beekeeping, water management, cereal banks, and animal husbandry.  Goat cheese anyone?

With our site announcements, we also now know the local language we must learn.  The language spoken in my region is Pular.  Every volunteer is paired with a local counterpart, not only for language translation and learning, but also for co-leading our community projects.  The success of our projects largely depends on the cooperation and guidance we get from our local counterparts, as well as our ability to integrate into our local communities.  So from now and through the first three months at our site, our focus is this: to integrate into our communities, learn the local language and observe.  That’s all. 

Back to School

December 18, 2013

(I apologize for the delay, but I have not had internet access since leaving Conakry on December 6.  Thus, this post includes several different topics of my life in Guinea.)

Back to School

My French teacher Charlotte

Life for a Peace Corps Trainee (PCT) is very well structured, no matter what country you might be posted.  Language classes, technical training, cultural education, safety and public health trainings, take up most of our weekdays. In order to keep everyone engaged and attentive, Peace Corps has learned to make these educational classes fun and interactive.  We do this through a lot of role-playing and group participation exercises.  By the end of the day, many of us are pretty well fatigued and ready to go home, though some PCTs are still interested in spending a night on the town. (Most PCTs are young college graduates… and they do what you would expect them to do… )

Thus, you have the beauty of the home stay.  Living with a host family who takes care of (most) of your basic living needs, along with a “petit” living allowance by the Peace Corps, relieves most of the stress of living in a foreign land.  We are given a private room, and are treated as an honored guest of the family.  (More on this later.)  Only when Peace Corps staff is confident that we can survive on our own… in a remote village… where English is not spoken at all... will they clear us to start the development work we came here to do.  The time frame for this to happen is 10 short weeks. 

I have been in Dubreka for two weeks, and am slowly getting used to the way of life here.  I am now comfortable with shopping at the local market on my own without holding the hand of a PCV who’s been here a year.   Everyone right now is anxiously awaiting his or her site assignments, which takes place on December 24.  Once we know where in Guinea we will be living for the next two years, we can start learning the local language.  As most of our communication will be in this local language while at our site, this will become a focal point for learning following Christmas festivities.

December 22, 2013

Small packages

It can be a bit confusing at first… seeing a single clove of garlic for sale at the local street market.  If I were back in the United States, I would think, “Who would do such a thing?”  But in Guinea, life is different.  Many, if not most things here come in small packages. I suppose that the street vendors buy in “bulk”, and then repackage their products in small plastic bags for resale.  Part of the reason is that things don’t last long without a temperature approaching refrigeration. A five pound sack of potatoes wouldn’t last 2 weeks before starting to rot in the 100 degree heat.  The other reason is that people are really, really poor here, and most can only afford to buy food for the current day, and at most for the current week.  Even if they could afford to purchase food supplies in “bulk” quantities, it would probably be eaten by a variety of pests.  So it can be a small challenge to find a “normal” size of anything here, especially for a “rich American” who wants to introduce his host family to the deliciousness of banana bread.

Adoption Ceremony

December 6, 2013

Today we arrive at a conference hall in Dubreka, where the place is buzzing with people.  Leaving our luggage in the vans, we enter the building and see rows of chairs lined in front of a stage. Our adoption is a simple affair, with each host family being called to the front, followed by their respective PCT adoptee.  There is lots of dancing and the music that plays before and after our adoption is WAY, WAY, TOO LOUD.  We all partake in a traditional Guinean meal of white rice and sauce before collecting our luggage and leaving with our host families.  We will spend the weekend with them before returning for class at the Peace Corps training center in Dubreka on Monday.

My family made sure I new some French for thinggs in my bedroom

My host family lives a long 25 minute walk away from the training site, and are practicing Muslims.   85-90 percent of Guinea is Muslim, along with a small percentage of Christians and traditional African religions.  Some families are more devout than others, so not all of the community wears the traditional dress all of the time.  I have three brothers, age 19, 14 and 13, and two sisters, age 15 and 5.  My aunt lives with the family as well, along with her three daughters, age 13, 7 and 1. The family owns several chickens that roam inside and outside the family compound.  Typically, domesticated animals roam free here so that they can forage for food during the day. Sadly, they don’t own any goats, though many Guineans do have them.

My mother is widowed, having lost her husband in traffic accident a couple of years ago.   Her husband’s name was Ibraham.  Shortly after arriving and while I am unpacking, I am given my new name.  All of us PCTs are given African names by our new hosts, and we can choose to keep them or take a new one once we arrive at our village in February.

The name I am given is Ibraham.