Week 1

First order of business once they left was to clean as much as I could before the sun went down. Luckily I had 3 eager petites waiting to lend a helping hand with the cleaning. It was really cute at first, but like all children they started to fight over who would do what. At that point I had to allocate a specific job for each of them, which was a task in itself since I can’t communicate to them. It’s hit me again that I’m at square one with the communication barrier. Actually, more like square zero if there is such a thing because I don’t understand one word of Maninka which the primary/ local language spoken in this region of Guinea. Very few people speak French. I’ve been using my petites to teach me the basic vocabulary so I have a better idea of how to communicate my basic needs. I have to do a lot of demonstrations and gesturing to get things across which usually ends up in an uproar of laughter, me usually being the brunt of the laughter. Sometimes it’s fun. It’s like playing charades. Lol. But as you can imagine charades gets old after a while and can become frustrating. A couple days this week I found a whole day went by and I had maybe spoken 2 words in French. At this point I can’t communicate anything (using words.)

I spend a lot of time with my energetic petites or reading in my hut. Since I’ve been here I have been the primary entertainment of my petites. If I’m not up with my door open by 7am they come looking for me. I can usually hear them before they get to the door as they approach in full sprint yelling, “Madame, Madame, Madame, Madame, Madame. Cong, Cong. Cong, Cong.” (Cong, cong is what is said when you knock because there is no doorbell.) I hear the word Madame approximately 60-100 times a day. No exaggeration. I don’t answer my door that early in the morning for them, so they’re usually out there for about 10 minutes, banging and yelling before understanding that I’m not getting up.

When I do finally open my door around 9am or so within a minute and a half they are standing at my door saying “bonjour madame,” which is also their way of asking for an invite into my hut. I can’t say no because they’re too cute. Most of their time in my hut is spent in curiosity where they point, touch and ask about everything I own. Afterwards the second oldest always asks me if he can have it. That’s done by looking at me, pointing to the object and them pointing to himself. So I just shake my head and say no. When we’re outside I try and take advantage of a Maninka lesson, which can sometimes be difficult because of their short attention span. The more time I spend with the 3 boys the more I realize that all boys under the age of 12, no matter where they are from, are all the same. Like most, their attention span is limited, and the coolest thing in the world is seeing how loud they can fart or how far they can piss. So in between vocabulary words that’s usually what I’m observing. Lol.

Other than that, I’m just slowly trying to adjust to my new home, and beginning to grasp the amount of determination, patience and work I’m going to have to put in to make the most out of my 2 years in Guinea. I’m looking forward to it.