Done With Training!

Hello! I’m back in Conakry for the next few days, basking in the absolute glory of having electricity, internet, air-conditioning and running water. It feels so darn good!

I got another package yesterday from Japan! The return address was in Japanese, so I couldn’t decipher who it was from, but thank you so much, whoever you are!

Last week, I gave my second sensibilization with Liz and Amber and it went MUCH better than my first one. We presented on VIH/SIDA (HIV/AIDS) and other STD’s to a class of about 55 tenth graders. They all stood when we entered the room and didn’t sit down until we got to the front. It’s odd to be treated with so much respect.

The kids in the class already knew a lot on the subject AND they understood French, so they were great participants. Part of the sensibilization was about how quickly an STD can spread in a population. To demonstrate that, we used glitter. We asked one member of the class to come up to the front of the room and we smeared moisturizing lotion on her hands and sprinkled a bit of glitter on top of it. We then told her to shake hands with three people, and then those three people had to shake hands with three other people, and so forth, until most of the class had at least a few specks of glitter on their hands.

This also demonstrated the importance of monogamy and condoms (or gloves, in this instance). I really hope the kids didn’t leave our sensibilization thinking that you could get AIDS from touching people’s hands, because people living with HIV/AIDS are stigmatized enough as it is.
(I drew that image of the two eggheads kissing. I'm in the striped shirt on the left, in the middle of declaring that you can't get AIDS from kissing or touching someone.)

We also played a musical chairs-type game with the students, sans the chairs. The kids passed around blown up condoms, each with a question regarding HIV/AIDS/STD’s folded up inside of it. This was done to music, and when the music stopped playing, the kid holding the condom had to pop it (which was hard to do, so it was funny to watch) and read the question aloud and then answer it. If the student got the answer right, he/she was awarded a lollipop.

I wanted to make a nice meal for my family to say thank you for having me. I was worried they wouldn’t want to eat what I made for them, so I decided to go with gnocchi, because Guineans LOVE potatoes. Fortunately, another volunteer lives with my aunt’s family, so we made it together. Thank God for that, because the dinner took five and a half hours to prepare! I can only imagine how long it would have taken me had I done it by myself. We boiled, smashed and peeled 8 kg of potatoes, which took forever without the proper appliances. But it was all worth it, because it gave the women in my complex some free time to hang out and braid their hair.

Women have no time to do anything nice for themselves in this country. They do ALL the work! They slave away in the fields, work at the market and take care of the kids AND the house, while the men “work” on their social relationships, search for other wives, or pray. It is so infuriating.

The family ended up inviting half of the neighborhood to the dinner without informing us, so there wasn’t enough food. But they loved the gnocchi and Katalina and I were really happy about it.

I figured out what broke the barrier between me and my family! One night about a month ago, I was sitting in the dark eating dinner by myself, and I began belting Akon’s "Don't Matter" (it's HUGELY popular in Guinea) and my brother and sisters came running into the room to watch their little fote sing Akon. They loved it! From then on, they kept asking me to sing that song or other American songs for them.

There is something so basic, so primal about music that connects humans to one another.

Who'd have thought that the missing piece to the puzzle was a song?

So, my life for the past few weeks has basically been one big musical. Michael Jackson, Enya, Annie (The Musical), you name it, I was probably singing it for my family. My siblings would hum along with me or dance around, and then they would sing Guinean songs for me. Guinea is my little Broadway.

The night before I left for Conakry, my family gave me a beautiful complet made from a fabric of beautiful hues of indigo. I was so happy! The fam also gave me a rather bulky necklace and told me I was to wear it with the complet to the Farewell Ceremony.



(That's us at the Farewell Ceremony. I could not get them to smile!)

I ended up giving each of the kids in my family a flashlight because they had been so impressed with mine. They were all THRILLED to receive them. I wrote each of their names on the flashlights because I was worried the Dad might take them and keep them for his own use.



(This is Dalanda Un, giving me a thumbs up in my sunglasses. She is obviously not three years old. People in Guinea don't know their ages, or their children's ages for that matter.)

My family braided my hair, and once I got into the complet, my Dad told me I looked like a Guinean woman. I seriously doubt the comment was genuine, but I thought it was sweet.

The Farewell Ceremony was fun. A few volunteers made speeches in the three local languages (Malinke, Pulaar and Susu), then we ate rice and sauce and said goodbye to our families. I didn’t think it would be so hard to say goodbye to my sisters, but they were all crying, so I started to cry. I'm going to miss them.

Then I boarded the car to Conakry, which was packed with 11 humans, two cats and one dog, duck and chicken. Oh Guinea. I'm told that I should be happy that there weren't any goats in the car with us. GOATS?!

I awoke at 5 AM this morning to a ridiculously loud prayer call. Some man with a screetchy voice was screaming "ALLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! AHHHHHH!!!! AHHHHHLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" for about forty minutes. I wanted to scream "SHUT THE HELL UP!!!!" out the window. Prayer call isn't usually that loud or annoying-- perhaps the Muezzin is new?



This is one of the many beautiful murals on the walls of the transit house in Conakry.



We swear in tomorrow-- I'm excited, mainly for the food they're going to give us. Everyone is going to wear their African clothes and the US ambassador is coming to give a speech. Should be fun. Then I'm off to Mandiana. I hear I'm going to get both the midget hut and the larger hut! Sheesh. I'm thinking of naming one "The Ritz" and the other "The Four Seasons". Anyone have any other ideas for names?