L'Ecole Practique

As you all know I am going to be teaching high school math during my stay in Guinea. During training we were given three weeks to practice teaching in French in front of actual Guinean students. I think it was one of the most useful things we’ve done in training to get us prepared for what is to come when we get to our final sites. I have to say that it was also the most eye-opening experience I’ve had since I’ve been in Guinea. I’ll give an extremely brief synopsis about what it was like only because I have entirely to much to say and I don’t want to get started right now.

Anyway. Because now is summer vacation for the students in Guinea, the Peace Corps had to advertise throughout the neighborhood to get students to participate in our Practice School classes. The turnout was decent and I feel like I got a lot out of it. My first day of class started at 8:00 and I was supposed to teach the Pythagorean Theorem to my 10th graders. But because it was raining I started my class at 8:25am once I got my first student. By about 8:35 I had about 5 in the class. I start off all of my classes with simple warm-up exercises to get everyone’s blood flowing early in the morning. Since I was teaching the Pythagorean Theorem that day I decided to give a few basic equations, square roots and squared numbers for revision just to make sure everyone one was on the same page. After they finished the warm-up I called one of them up to the board to solve 32. He couldn’t do it. I really didn’t know how to react so I just tried to ask him questions to help him through it. Finally someone from the back of the class blurted it out. At this point I didn’t think that it was necessary for me to move on when my students don’t know basic math principles. So I spent the class revising how to solve equations, and square roots. To make a long story short we spent the entire week on the Pythagorean Theorem and out of 10 students 4 passed my test at the end of the week. It was the most frustrating, angry, overwhelming week I’ve had in country.

Before anyone mis interprets this, please know that I was not angry with my students for not knowing. I was angry at the school system, teaching methods, teachers and Guinea that allowed them to get this far without knowing basic skills. It’s doing them a huge dis service. There are a million and one factors (that I’m not going to get into right now) that contribute to the reason why the students struggle so much in school. At first I thought it was my French but when I talked to everyone, they all had the same problem (even though they were fluent.) I don’t know if anyone was as impacted as I was, but the moment I saw it, I was thinking to myself how in the world am I going to help them. Here it is I have 10 students, what’s going to happen when I have 100 in one class. Sigh. I’m going to stop right here. I’ll give more details in a later entry. I have some more thinking to do. Lol.

On a lighter note, the next week I was teaching 7th graders ( I love them!) and in my second week of teaching them I had one of them, with the straightest face, come up to me after class and ask me for my phone number. Lmao! Who does that?! Anyway. That’s all I’m going to say about school for now. Things will start to look up once I get to site!

I Can't Sleep

So, I have a really hard time sleeping at night. I know I mentioned to you all that I was on this malaria medication called Mephloquine, but when our doctor listed some of the side effects of the medication (insomnia and paranoia), I really didn't think that it was going to effect me. Much to my surprise I think that I am suffering from the insomnia and a very mild case of paranoia. Besides the insomnia at night, I also have rats in my ceiling. Every night I hear a different sporting event occurring just above my head. Two Monday’s ago I think was the track meet and Friday was the wrestling match. I think they just started a soccer league last week too. lol. The other night when I was sleeping I heard something role across the floor of the ceiling, and then I heard about 4 to 5 rats scurry after it just over my head. The days of the track meets I just lay in the bed petrified, as I listen to them running back an forth from one end of my ceiling to the other, praying that one of them doesn't fall through and land in my bed. The days of the wrestling matches it sounds like there fighting. It is the most terrifying thing to listen to during the night.

When I came back from my site visit about 5 weeks ago, after being gone for about a week I returned to my room to find a strange odor. It smelled like mold. My sister suggested that although she didn’t see it that there might be a mouse in my room. So of course when I went sleep that night in the middle of the night I was awakened by the sound of a “mouse” under my bed. My heart was pounding a million beats a minute while I searched for my headlamp to scare it aware. The moment I turned it on and flashed it around the room I saw 2 RATS, not mice run across the floor of my room. I thought I would die. I didn’t sleep the rest of the night. The next morning I searched frantically around my room trying to figure out how in the world they got in with no holes in the walls. To this day I still don’t know how they got in but the reason why they were there in the first place was because I had accidentally left a piece of bread in one of my bags while I was gone. Big mistake. It had been devoured by the time I got back and I’m sure the old bread was contributing to the odor in my room as well. Since the day I saw those rats they haven’t come back in my room (even though every night I am paranoid that they will) so they’ve just been tormenting me from the ceiling instead. Lol.

The Voleur

The Tuesday during the week that I was fasting, just before I had woken up to eat with my family I heard this bleating mouton across the street and this conversation (in Sousou) between two men. I didn’t think anything of it because I hear moutons all the time, but it was just strange that it was so early in the morning. So as I ate my meal in my room I heard the conversation across the street gradually grow louder as more people joined. At this point my sister had come into my room and explained to me (because I can’t understand Sousou) that the man across the street had just stolen the mouton, and the previous conversation I had heard was the exchange of someone in passing asking the voleur (thief) if that was his mouton. I know that it doesn’t seem that serious in the states but stealing anything here is a major offense to everyone. It’s understandable. But God have mercy on you if you get caught stealing by the community because hell will surely be paid. Basically what was happening was that the voleur had just been caught and the entire neighborhood came outside. I’m not sure who he stole from but there had to have been a mob of about 40 people congregated outside at 4 in the morning yelling and cursing him. (Clearly at this point falling back asleep was not an option. Lol.) The berating escalated over a span of about an hour and then in the final hour around 5:30 they beat the living the daylights out of this man. I heard every single crack of the stick on his bare skin and every scream/cry of agony as the neighborhood watched. I thought it would never end. In the last 5 minutes I heard the mob pass my house as they chased him down the street (I’m assuming to the police.) And then finally there was silence. Now I know stealing is wrong and it’s especially detrimental if you do it here, but for the of life me I couldn’t understand how they could do that to him and all I was thinking is that I hope they don’t kill him. But apparently from what my sister told me, that was not the first time he had stolen and that’s why his punishment was so brutal…. I guess. I don’t really know what to say about this situation. All I can advise is don’t ever steal in Guinea.

La Careme (Ramadan)

As I mentioned before, Guinea is a predominantly Muslim country. If any of you are Muslim or have Muslim friends you know that right now is Ramadan. I haven’t been exposed to too much of the Muslim religion (with the exception of a few friends) until now but I have to say that I have learned quite a bit since I’ve been here. In a nutshell Ramadan is approximately a month of fasting done in order for people to understand the suffering of others and learn to appreciate the things that they have a little more; also to practice giving and sharing with others. Being here in Guinea and observing as they practice Ramadan has truly been a humbling experience. Here it is, we came from across the world to help those in need and the Guineans are the one’s that are still able to fully participate, share and give everything they have. It’s amazing. They wake in the morning at 4:00am to eat before sunrise and then fast until sunset a little after 7:00pm. The day is spent preparing the meal for the big feast at dinner when the fast in broken. Just so all of you know fasting here does not mean just not eating. They also don’t drink a thing or even swallow there own spit.

I actually gave fasting a try for week to support my family and to spend some more time with them. It was really hard. It was especially difficult because I couldn’t drink anything. In the mornings it wasn’t so bad because it was still early and I was still full from eating at 4:00am. It was a good thing we were teaching in the mornings because I don’t know that I would have been able to focus on anything if it was any later. But by mid day it was really tough, because it was so hot and your body is slowly running out of fuel as the day goes on and you can’t drink. I really had to pray for strength through the last 2 hours of the fast because it’s so tempting to just drink something. But I have to say that it’s definitely worth the wait. Breaking fast with my family just makes eating so much better, not just because I’m with them, but the food really does taste 10 times better. I don’t think I’ve told you all this yet but in Guinea everything is communal, even eating. So when it’s time to eat everyone gathers around the huge bowl of rice and sauce and digs in....literally. They eat with their hands here. And when you eat you have to be really cautious not to eat too quickly because sometimes there are rocks in the rice and you don’t want to crack your teeth.

A week was enough for me, but it was a good experience.

Anyway, I have much more to fill you in on. It will be coming soon. I hope everyone is doing well! Love you all!

Food

I know you all are dying to know what I eat on a daily basis. It’s actually been one of the hardest things for me to adapt to since I’ve been here. Sometimes I have dreams about eating a Chipotle chicken taco or just having a plain old peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Rumor has it there building a Chipotle in my village just behind the corn field. Sike. Lol.

The diet here is primarily composed of starches. There is an abundance of rice, manioc (like potato), potato, pasta, fonio, couscous and other various types of rice/grain. In terms of meat, I’ve generally eaten fish (in every form) and some beef. The other day I tried heart. My sister didn’t specify whose heart it was but I’m going to assume it was the heart of a cow. If you’ve ever eaten liver before, it tastes just like that. My sister loves it but unfortunately I’m not a big fan of either.

A couple of weeks ago I watched the preparation of my chicken from the beginning to end. Meat doesn’t exist pre-packaged here because it can’t be preserved, so the only option to get meat is to go to market and buy it from the butcher, and if you want chicken you buy the chicken (alive.) So one Sunday my sister and I went to the market like we usually do, bought all of the ingredients for the meal, and then picked up the chicken. She went back and forth between the three chickens available trying to decide which was best. From what I gathered the best is the plumpest of the chickens. When she couldn’t decide she asked my opinion, so I gave my usual clueless response of a smile, head nod and a “c’est bon.” After the decision was made the vendeur trapped the squawking chicken and tied it by the legs. He handed the chicken to my sister who then preceded to hand it to me. (The moment she did I was thinking to myself, this woman has lost it, there is no way I can carry this thing home. I played it cool though, like I carry chickens back home all the time. I also realized that if I wanted to eat, I’d better stop being a punk and just carry the chicken. lol.) It was slightly awkward at first because his little legs were still warm and he wouldn’t stop moving. Then after hanging upside down for a while he started drooling. (eww!) I didn’t know how the chicken carrying process was supposed to work but for whatever reason I was really worried about him. I found myself checking up on him every few minutes to see if he was okay. (I don’t know why, because in about 2 hours he was going to be my dinner.) My sister, along with everyone else in the market just giggled every time I did it. Anyway, we finally made it home after a few hours and my sister got things prepared for the cooking…this where the fun part begins. The chicken has to be killed first, so I watched in shock as my sister grabbed him by the neck and chopped his head off with one swift motion of her butcher knife. It was amazing. There’s a certain way that it has to be done so that the blood doesn’t drain into the meat too much. After the beheading, she put the chicken into a pot of boiling hot water for a few minutes to make it a little easier to de feather it. The de feathering was actually pretty interesting to watch; the decapitation….not so much. From this point it was just a matter of cutting cleaning and cooking the good pieces of chicken. After about 2 hours the feast was ready and it was delicious. I have to admit that although the process was a little gruesome it was a sort of exciting and interesting at the same time.

Anyway, back to the food groups. I don’t eat a lot of vegetables here. I’ve just eaten cucumber, corn, and eggplant. (Others might exist but I just haven’t eaten them yet.) But he fruit in Guinea is to die for! When we first arrived it was the tail end of pineapple season. Oh my God! It was like eating a piece of heaven every day! Lol. Then when I went on my site visit about a month ago they still had mangos. Lord have mercy! Those have to be the juiciest, sweetest mangos on earth! Mmm mmm.

Back to reality, although the fruit was amazing some days it just wasn’t enough. My first week here I was eating great. My sister was cooking everything for me, rice and sauce, spaghetti, chicken, salad. It was great! Then by my second week this 3 week phase started where I was eating nothing but avocado, onion, cucumber and mayonnaise salad every single day for every single solitary meal. Some days I would make up something so that I wouldn’t have to eat it all, thinking that I would be getting out of it, but then she’d just serve it to me for breakfast in the morning. I started to pray everyday before I went home in hopes that she would give me something different. It got old fast, and I had reached the point where I felt miserable at the thought of eating another salad and it became a chore for me to eat (can you imagine.)

Clearly I could have just ended the misery by just opening my mouth and saying something but for whatever reason I thought I would offend her if I did. Of course the moment I talked to her about it she was more than happy to give me something else. Since then I haven’t had the mayonnaise salad. Phew!

Just a quick story. About the 3rd week here during my salad phase with my family, one of the current volunteers prepared mini care packages for all the trainees. And in each one was a luscious Snickers bar. I don’t know if any of the other trainees felt this way, but I was truly elated! I almost cried. (I’m not joking.) And then that same afternoon I drank a cold orange soda. I swear it felt like one of the greatest days of my life. Lol. Clearly I was having a bad day, but it’s amazing how such a little thing can turn your day around. Lol.

I have to say that within the past 2- 3 weeks the food situation has gotten ten times better along with the adjustment process.

Host Family

Day 1

If I had to use one word to accurately describe this day I would be forced to choose the word awkward. At the adopting ceremony I was greeted with one of the warmest smiles from my new sister Djnabe (who to this day remains one of the most warm hearted people I have ever encountered.) Afterwards all of the volunteers met with their families and had their first meal together in the auditorium of the “Maison de Jeunes.” It is here that we would eat the primary meal of Guinea, rice and sauce. From what I remember, I think we had peanut sauce with goat meat. It was pretty good.

After the ceremony is when the awkwardness was initiated. My new sisters (Djnabe, Aminata, and Mimi) and I walked home in almost complete silence, while I tried desperately to think of something to say that was comprehensible and in the mean time try and understand what was being said to me. (For the first week if at any point I wanted to initiate a conversation I needed at least 5 minutes prep time to think of the correct way to express myself. Lol.) On the way, I was introduced to the neighborhood with my new Guinean name “Mimi Camara.” It’s kind of like a celebrity feeling, with everyone staring and smiling at you, so intrigued by your presence. Lol. Anyway, once we got to the house I was shown to my room and introduced to the rest of my family, my brother Ibou (13 yrs) and my grandmother. I was exhausted and slightly overwhelmed when I reached the house, so I decided to take a nap for about an hour or so. To my pleasant surprise, as I awoke, I was surrounded with 8 smiling faces in my room, staring at me (no exaggeration, I counted. Lol.) It was a little awkward, but all we could do was laugh. My sister had invited over some of her friends and neighbors to come and meet me. We couldn’t do much because of the communication barrier so we just played the name game while I butchered the pronunciation of everyone’s name.

Afterward, I went outside to spend some more time with them and helped cook (the cooking area is located outside in the yard.) My only contribution to the meal was crushing piman (peppers) in this big bowl with a huge stick. It was fun. There is a name for this utensil but I can’t think of it right now. Next, I showed them pictures of family and friends back in the states. They love you guys! Especially my teammates. H UUUU!!!! lol. Anyway, after the show and tell was finished, it hit me….. Lol. The stomach ache of death. My stomach started rumbling, and before I knew it I was sprinting the bathroom. (I don’t think any further details are necessary. Everyone should be able to put two and two together.) The next awkward moment would come with me trying to explain, in my limited amount of French to my family, the reason why I didn’t want to eat dinner. Lol. It wasn’t really that bad, all I did was point to my stomach and say “Je suis malade.” I just felt kind of bad for not being able to eat on my first night there. Anyway, ce n’est pas grave. They were very understanding.

Since that first day things have steadily gotten better, the awkward moments are not as frequent or intense (or maybe I’ve just gotten used to them), and my family has been unbelievably patient with me. However, I’m still trying to figure out the dynamics of my family, or more like who’s who. Guinean families are extremely large, mainly because they practice polygamy here. Having more then one wife is a sign of wealth, and majority of the family stays together forever. The family unity here is like none other. Unlike in the U.S. everything here is community centered, and the things you do and say are a direct reflection of your family. Therefore it's important to remain repsectful and be on your best at all times. But anyway, I don’t live with the average Peace Corps host family because I don’t have parents that take care of me. My sister Djnabe is my primary care giver and she just graduated from high school. None the less, she’s doing a great job. I’m going to miss her when I move.

Just to give everyone a better idea of my living arrangements I’ll give a brief description of how things work around here. Since there is no running water, and electricity is sporadic, things can’t be done with just a push of a button or turn of a switch. The day starts here at around 5:30 am after the call to prayer. We live across the street from the mosque so this is usually my alarm clock. For those of you that may not be familiar, in Muslim countries the call to prayer is done over a loud speaker from the mosque 5 times a day. I can’t understand what’s being said but it sound like someone is singing over the loud speaker.

Anyway, if I am able to go back to sleep after the call to prayer I have another alarm clock that goes off at around 6:20 am. This one is the little bird outside my window that starts chirping at the same time every day. Everyone in Guinea is usually awake by 6:30am because this is when the daily chores begin. There is so much to be done. Usually before I get out of my bed I can hear the neighborhood people salueing each other as they pass. There is also the pet chicken that we have that I usually hear running around the house in the morning, and then the stupid rooster outside the house that I despise. He just won’t shut up! (The other stuff doesn’t bother me but that rooster has got to go. Argh! Lol.) Then I can also hear the mouton (goat) that makes this horrendous bleating sound, which is actually hilarious to listen too. I laugh every single time.
Anyway, after the finale of the morning symphony is complete I go take my bucket bath. Believe it or not this happens to be one of my favorite parts of my day. I haven’t really figured out why because usually the water is ice cold and I’m bathing in the dark. But none the less it is so refreshing. I love it! We get our bathing water from the well that is just in front of the house under the mango tree. It’s really convenient. I usually get my drinking water from the pump which then has to be filtered and bleached before it can be consumed. Well water is a "no no" for drinking.

After my wonderful bucket bath, I get dressed, eat breakfast and head out for the day for classes. A walk to school is not like a walk anywhere in the states because it is absolutely vital that you speak to everyone that you see. This is very important to Guinean culture as a sign of respect, especially since everything is based around the community. Saluing everyone definitely takes more effort and those days when you don’t want to talk to anyone it can be particularly difficult. But at the end of the day I think it is very valuable because you are able to build relationships with people.

After the day at the school is complete, if I don’t chill with any of the other volunteers I head home and eat dinner with my family. My first few weeks there my sister would be bring me my food and she, Ibou and whoever else was there would all sit around me and watch me eat. Every time I walked up someone would automatically give me there chair and take my book bag from me. It was so nice. It took some getting used to because it made me a little uncomfortable having someone wait on my hand and foot. But Guineans are some of the kindest, most hospitable people I’ve ever met. They say that other countries are not quite as hospitable as Guineans so I’m grateful to have been placed here.

I'm still alive!

Bonjour Tout le Monde!! I know it's been a while since you've heard from me. Things are going great here in Guinea! I only have one more week left of training and then I'll be an official volunteer! I have the internet for the nxt 2 days so I am going to try and summarize the last 2 months of my life with this time I have. I hope you all enjoy the next couple blog posts!