Oz/Wonderland

(This is a picture of how they cut grass in Guinea. Why waste time with a lawn mower when you can just set fire to it?!)

Bonsoir from Mamou! Mamou is in the Fouta region of Guinea and it’s a nice change of scenery. We were actually supposed to come here last week, but there were demonstrations going on in Conakry that got a little violent, and Peace Corps didn’t want us traveling during unstable times.

Two weeks ago, the president sacked the minister of information, which violated the agreement the government and Guinean citizens came to back in February. The Guineans were furious! They gave the president two days to come up with a solution, or else. I’m not sure what resolution they found, but apparently they came to some agreement because everything has quieted down in Conakry.

Peace Corps is really serious about our safety. On the morning the president met with his cabinet to discuss an agreement, all the PCT’s weren’t allowed to leave their houses. There we were, all the way out in Forecariah, and we were still placed under house arrest!

We’re all here in Mamou for the counterpart workshop, which is when we meet our assigned host country national who will be guides in the field we work in. So, my counterpart is someone who works in the DPS (Department of Public Health) in my city.

Unfortunately, my counterpart couldn’t make it out to meet me because he had to “oversee the completion of (my) pit latrine.” I don’t know what he’d need to oversee, because I’m pretty certain that my toilet is just a hole in the ground. C’est la Guinee.

Instead, some guy with the title of “health technician” came in his place. He’s nice but he speaks French wayyyyy too fast. He talks, and I smile and nod.

I really am Alice in Wonderland over here. Everything appears to be flung far from reason, but I’m sure it will make more sense as I drift deeper into the culture.

Guineans believe that sorcerers exist and that they can turn people into panthers.

This is a serious fear! Personally, I think it would be kind of cool to be turned into a panther.

We learned about Guinean contraceptive practices a few weeks ago and my mind is still reeling from it.

For example, Guineans believe that if you drink a really cold Coke a few hours before sex (emphasis on it being REALLY cold), you won’t get pregnant. The same goes for taking antibiotics before and after sex. Makes perfect (non)sense.

Where do these ideas come from?! And how can these beliefs still be in circulation when they obviously don’t work? I suppose they could blame a woman’s extreme fertility for the pregnancy, which would actually be a huge complement to the woman because fertility is a huge deal in Guinea. If a woman is infertile, she’s considered unmarriageable, poor thing. Often, women try to get pregnant before marriage to show that they can indeed bear children.

Perhaps these forms of “contraception” were fabricated by women in the country to make them look good? And I do wonder what the local Guineans think of us Americans who are always searching for a really cold Coke.

It’s gotten a lot cooler over the past few days. By “cooler” I mean it gets as low as the mid 70’s at night. This weather, surprisingly, calls for the fleece blanket I brought to Guinea in the lame hope I’d be placed in the Fouta.

I’m trying to think about how I’ve adapted to life in Guinea. I know I’ve got a long way to go, but there are definitely some changes that have taken place.

For example, I don’t think twice (or even once) about throwing rocks at chickens and roosters. I thought it was really cruel at first, but now it’s more fun than anything else. Chickens are super curious and get into everything here. Guineans cook over little fires on the ground outside and chickens are constantly trying to get at the food. This happens so often that it takes too much energy to get up and physically shoo them away.

In Guinea, yards are filled with reddish brown pebbles instead of grass, so it’s really easy to bend down, grab a pebble, and chuck it straight at the offending chicken. I’ve only actually hit a few, but my arm is improving with each day.

I also don’t bother killing spiders smaller than four inches in diameter and think that skirts that end at the knees look WAY too short.

Last week, I saw a spider that was definitely a direct descendent of Aragog. The spider was so big, I heard it before I saw it. It was larger than my hand, and in its massive pincers laid a dead baby MOUSE.

(Here's some evidence, as requested. This is the spider with the mouse in its clutches. I swear to god it's bigger than my hand and it's still living outside my door.)

The vultures in this country are so big that their wing spans are over five feet. No joke. They’re so big that they steal fully grown chickens out of peoples yards. I saw it happen during French class.

My friend Teale has an animal with extremely strong teeth in her room. Some animal chewed a hole in her cement floor and, every night, it comes out of the hole and drags Teale’s underwear across the room.

At this point in my life, I find this stuff absolutely hilarious. Ah, Guinealand, my wonderland.

For New Years, the SED and Public Health trainees ventured into Maferinya to visit the Agro-forestry trainees and eat a good BBQ’d lunch together. Unfortunately, being Americans, we didn’t factor in the time it would take to buy a live goat, kill it, skin it and then cook it. I think everyone figured we’d be able to buy goat, ready to cook at the market. Oops. It was around four in the afternoon when we finally ate.

This picture is of me, Liz and Candee at a bar in Forecariah on New Year's Eve.

After our semi-American BBQ, we headed to the local soccer field to play what we thought was going to be an informal game of soccer against a local team. Big mistake.

The locals had set up large tent (donated by UNICEF) with loads of chairs and a couch on the side of the field. We learned that the couch was for the sous-prefect (the mayor)—we had no inkling that this game was such a big deal! Over 1,000 people showed up and the G-15’ers (that’s the name of our stage) won the first match against the local women’s team but we lost the second against the men’s team. Oh, there was even an announcer with a speaker system. It felt like I was watching Heavyweights. There we were, the Peace Corps team, totally unprepared in mismatched clothes, looking like total idiots compared to the Guinean team in their uniforms doing their warm ups perfectly in sync. I was going to play, but decided not to at the last minute because I’d had way too much goat for lunch. More importantly, I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of 1,000 raucous spectators.

Last weekend, my Guinean grandparents reached the highest level one can reach in the Muslim faith without going to Mecca. During the days leading up to their Thierno Ceremony, women were pounding some kind of grain in big wooden basins with massive wooden poles. They were striking the grain so hard that it sounded like they were all beating a big drum. As soon as I came home, they told me to change into nicer clothes and to come “help” (“helping” usually means watching them do it). I put on a collared shirt and khaki pants, but to pound the mystery grain, one has to wear a skirt and cover one’s head. So, I ran back inside for a scarf and some random woman wrapped a pania around my waist.

All the women laughed (there were about 50 of them) as I tried to smash the grain with the big pole. It’s hard work! I handed a neighbor my camera to capture the moment, and this photo is the best one the came out. Most of the photos she took were of the sky. I don’t think she’d ever taken photos before.

The women pounded the grain well into the night and it was fun falling asleep to the drumming sounds—it reminded me of being back home, listening to my brother play his drums.

The Thierno Ceremony is a big deal, and I wore my nicest dress for it. Several people had told me before I left for the ceremony that the dress was acceptable. But, on my way down there, people kept eyeing my bare shins and telling me that what I was wearing was “pas bon!” So, I walked back and borrowed a long skirt from my neighbor and draped a big blue shawl over my head, Muslim-style. People were much more receptive to my more conservative, religious ceremony-appropriate outfit.

But man oh man it was a fish bowl! Everyone kept looking at me while I was there, and they were obviously talking about me. I normally don’t mind it that much, but at the ceremony, over 100 women were doing it at the same time.

It was a bit overwhelming, but it was also cool to see my grandparents in their finest attire.

For the ceremony, they wore hats and necklaces covered in folded Guinean bills. Money necklaces and hats are customary for special occasions in Guinea.

I got pretty tired so I went back to the house to take a short nap, which my mom approved. She followed me back and motioned for me to wait in the living room/dining room. I waited for awhile and started to leave for my room, assuming that I had just misunderstood her (which happens all the time), but as I stood up, she emerged with a beautiful dressy complet in her arms. I was to wear this for the ceremony. It was the nicest thing my Mom’s done yet, so I was really happy.

Anyway, I went to nap, because my Aunt told me that the ceremony was going to start in 20 minutes (which is more like two hours Guinea time). So, I assumed I had plenty of time. Unfortunately, the ceremony actually started when it was supposed to, and I ended up sleeping through the ceremony. My grandparents were pretty insulted. I tried to explain that I’d thought I’d had enough time for a little nap, because in Guinea, things usually start way later than they’re supposed to. But, seeing that they don’t speak French, my explanation was not understood.

I gave my first sensibilization yesterday! The public health sector was bussed over to a health post near Maferinya to teach about a topic we’d previously chosen. Andrew, my sensibilization partner, and I chose to teach about STD’s. Each group got to pick the demographic they wanted to present their sensibilization to. Because Andrew and I didn’t speak up, we were stuck with the most awkward demographic—les pecheurs, otherwise known as the fishermen, all of whom were in their 50’s.

Oy.

So, because it’s Guinea, no one showed up to the health post at 8 in the morning, and we ended up starting the sensibilization at 9:30. It turned out that none of les pecheurs could speak French, so we had to get one of our teachers to translate for us.

I felt SO awkward talking about the importance of a condom and the various symptoms of STI’s in front of old men.

My favorite part of the sensibilization was when an old man raised his hand and told us that the men would rather learn about high blood pressure or hemorrhoids.

Not only were we interrupted by comments such as those, but we were also interrupted by prayer time. At 10:15 all the men prayed in their chairs while Andrew and I stood there on the platform, unsure of what exactly we were supposed to do (leave the platform? Should I cover my head? Etc etc.)

Ah man, the joys of presenting in Guinea.

After the sensibilization, we were stormed by younger men and women who, evidently, thought we were doctors. One guy asked me what he should do about his epilepsy, because his parents think that each time he has a fit, he’s being possessed by the devil. Then a lady came by with a newborn that had been born with a club arm. I had no idea what to say!

A lot of the groups that presented in the health posts had similar issues.

In all, I really enjoyed myself because I found it hilarious that most of the men would have rather learned about hemorrhoids. Makes sense to me.

Later that night, as my friends were leaving my house, they almost stepped on a puppy, apparently lost and lying in the cinders of an extinguished fire to keep warm. She was so cute but really emaciated. We gave her some food and Nick agreed to keep her for now, until we figure out what to do with her. I’m thinking Cinderella might be a good name for her.

I finally broke through a barrier with my family. I’m not so sure what happened, but they’re being a whole lot nicer to me and it’s totally changed my experience here. I’m now building relationships with them, and it makes me feel much more comfortable and welcome. My sister Binta even gave me a photo of herself.

It’s hanging on my wall next to the Salkin family holiday card (thanks for that!). I asked Binta what she was doing in the picture and she said “I was waiting in line to get circumcised.”

Uhhhh. Now I’m not so sure if I want to keep that picture on my wall, because there she is in that picture, all healthy, on the verge of having something done to her that could very well kill her or cause her pain for the rest of her life.

I don’t feel close enough to her to ask her about her experience with circumcision, but I’m really curious.

We went to waterfalls a few weeks ago (sorry, I couldn't figure out a good transition from female circumcision...)! It was a lot of fun to just be with other Americans and frolic in the water for an afternoon. That's Ciara on my left and Teale on my right.

I got my first letters this week! It was wonderful reading people’s handwriting. I’ve read each letter at least four times. Keep them coming! Unfortunately, I haven’t gotten any packages yet (thank you so much to those of you who have sent them!!!!), but I’m hopeful they’ll be waiting for me when I return to Forecariah.

We leave from here on Sunday, January 20 for our site visits! I’m really excited to visit my city and see what my life might be like for the next two years. If my pit latrine isn’t finished, I’m going to have to stay with my site mate, Philippe. I’ll be up in Haute Guinee for four days and return to Forecariah on Thursday. Wish me luck with sitting in a bush taxi for 17 hours! I’m so far east that I’m actually closer to Bamako, Mali, than I am to Conakry. So if you’re thinking of coming to visit me and you’re also interested in seeing Mali, fly into Bamako and I’ll meet you there.

I like the word “potential”. It’s packed with possibility.

I started learning Malinke last week and it’s pretty hard to remember any of it. I’m sure it’ll start sticking with me once I get to site.

This picture was taken today while we were shopping in Mamou for fabric to make more complets. That's Teale on the left and me on the right sporting our fabulous first complets. This was our attempt to "integrate". We couldn't pass for Guineans, even wearing complets and waving Guinean flags.

Needless to say, I'm doing a lot better. I miss you all so much and keep sending me e-mails/posting comments! It's great to read what you write!