So they moved some people around, I happen to be needing to make this
move at the same time the new group of volunteers is coming in, so it
was possible to do. My thoughts were that I’d reached a good stopping
point, but if the Peace Corps determined that I could stay I would, I
would have too many regrets about what would be possible in this
second year. Although it’s not the same thing starting all over in a
new village, but I have changed, and even though I will have to pick
up a new language and everything it should be great and I won’t have
any regrets about what I’m doing. I’m getting excited, just have to
figure out all of the moving logistics, but I’m moving to the east, to
a relativly isolated site. As opposed to Kirsi the second closest site
to Ouaga. So I’m diversifiying. Right? I’ll be back in less than a
year, I have nine months that are going to fly by with setteling in to
my new site, and then starting to teach pretty much right away. I
won’t notice that it’s nine months and then I’ll be able to say that I
completed my Peace Corps service.
This week has been crazy, a lot of thinking about coming home, a lot
of time missing the conveniences of America, and a lot of time under
the running water of the showers that we have in our transit house.
It’s probably best to leave Kirsi. After my family came everyone was
convinced that I was the richest person in town and were the most
annoying I’ve ever seen one as far as asking me for money, and I
wasn’t sure that I could’ve handled that for another year. But there
were some crazy conversations.
I have a book reccomendation; The Spirit Catches You and You Fall
Down. It cracked me up reading it. In a lot of ways it made me feel
good being here, participating in this cross culture experience, the
author holds PC training in high regard. But also, there were many
similarities between the Hmong culture and Burkinabe culture that were
constantly cracking me up. It was also interesting to see the author
dissect the different personalities for dealing with foreign cultures.
PC volunteers go through a standardized training, so our response is
fairly homogonized, but among the guests of volunteers I saw the whole
range of characters written about in this book.
The thing that I enjoyed the most about Morocco was definetly the
food. My dad kept making fun of me because I was constantly informing
him that it was time for some meal or another. I eat on a very regular
schedule over here, because otherwise I just wouldn’t eat. Not much
appeals to me in the way of food here, you eat because you have to.
But in Morocco we’d go by a restaurant that looked good and it was
definetly time to stop and eat. I seriously gained weight in morocco,
I know weigh probably the most I’ve ever weighed in my life. Yikes!
But my fingernails are growing out pink again.
My family brought me a block of parmesan which was delicious and I was
very, very excited by this. I’d taken it to village and was scraping
it over my dinner every night and was very happy. And then one day,
the dogs got up on the table where I’d been keeping it and they ate
it. I was so upset with them. Helios, the puppy can be a real pain in
the butt. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with them in the move. I
have two dogs at this point that I’m fairly attached to but yet don’t
want to be hauling them all over the country. So I have to figure out
what I am going to do with them.
I also have the cat, which became fat and healthy looking during my
absence (I think it says something that my animals do better when I am
not around). And a chicken who is currently sitting on a pile of eggs.
We’re not supposed to have chickens because of bird flu, but I have
one, and I had a rooster, but living with a rooster is the last thing
I would ever suggest to anyone. Once the chicken gets off of her eggs
she’s going elsewhere. I discovered that for all of the living in
close proximity with animals people don’t know much about them. When I
asked how long they have to sit on their eggs for they told me 6 days.
It’s really 21 days, but they don’t know. They didn’t know the
gestation period for a dog either. There is no motivation or reason to
know that sort of thing in this culture.
I’m going to sign off now. I hope that at least one picture ends up
attached to this message, the next big email should have pictures and
stories from Bilanga. (Trust me, this is safe, Bilanga is so
incredibly far out there and difficult to get to, no one is going to
be coming to visit me, not even other volunteers). Take care everyone,
