From Alligators to Crocodiles

I don’t think I can fully describe these past 2 weeks properly. If this is just a preview of what my next 2 years will look like, I will need to fill myself with patience, understanding; keep/enhance my sense of humor about everything and, as it turns out, no …I really do hate rodents. But, I am getting ahead of myself. Are you ready? This one is a long one and a little harder to swallow. Let’s start from the beginning.

 Mamou

So, this is the end of the year- long puzzle. Well, it is really like the end of one puzzle and the beginning of an even more complicated and intense one. There is the whole Peace Corps application process and waiting for my departure date to come and the country, then the wait to see how the fellow trainees would be like, then what training would be like, then what our sites would be, then counterpart meeting and then finally seeing your site and meet the organization you will be working with. See, the puzzle is extensive. Well, this past week, this puzzle was finally pieced together. It all started in Mamou, a 4-hour squishy ride on the PC bus north into the Fouta region of Guinea. While Baste Cote (where Dubreaka and Conarky are) is very humid, somewhat green and hot, the Fouta region is cooler, greener and has more mountains. Like most of the trainees here, I am sure this is the Guinea you would like to visit. Anyway, like I was saying, Mamou is a decent bus ride north from Dubreka. It was a pretty ride filled with scenic mountain landscapes, some of which remind me of Cali. On our way there, we stopped to get gas, and we stumbled across possibly the best gas station in all of Guinea. They had ice-cold drinks, banana-flavored milk (who knew that existed), PRINGLES and legit chocolate. It was our Mecca, and it was fantastic. After my soda and chocolate fix, we hopped back on the bus and made our way to Mamou’s agro-forestry university, where we were to meet and spend 3 days with our counterparts. I should explain what a counterpart, or as they say in French, homologue, does. A counterpart is supposed to be your guide and help during your service. They are supposed to be the person you come to help you with projects and help facilitate cultural understandings and language. Anyway, the university is gorgeous. It sits on a mountain and has spectacular views of valleys below. We were set up dorm-style with 3 to a room and all 33 of us sharing some pit latrines, showers and sinks. As roommates, I had one of my closest friends here, Hilary, in the room and fellow CEDer, Ashley, who I now count as a friend after a certain bowel movement episode. I decided that on this blog, I will not talk in detail about sicknesses, so remind me to tell you the story when I get back to The States. Anyway, these 2 girls are troopers.

But more importantly, how was the meeting with the counterpart? Well…awkward and disappointing at first. It is awkward and nerve-wreaking meeting someone for the first time as it is, let alone someone you have to spend 2 years with and, oh yeah, you don’t speak the same language. I quickly met her the first time and wasn’t sure what to ask or say beyond “Bon Voyage?” I stood here awkwardly and soon she figured it would be best if she just leave it at that and proceeded to speak to one of the other female counterparts. I wasn’t sure what to expect from that first meeting, but it wasn’t that. It was just so strange. The awkwardness continued throughout the next 3 days as the debate wore on, should I sit with her during lunch/dinner? Is it rude if I don’t? What small talk can I make during the coffee breaks? My first impression of her was that she was cold. I guess, in my head, I figured that since we were both women, we might just click instantly. This was most definitely not the case. She seemed disinterested in speaking to me and, at times, intense in her manner of speaking. I had an awful first day of the workshop. It was intense because it was all in French and contained many sessions over a period of 8 hours as you sat next to your counterpart trying to make small talk. The worst part was during one of the session when we had to ask each other questions about our lives; work, ect and my counterpart proceeded to, as I was mid sentence, to motion over some of our language trainers to translate my French. They literally repeated the very words I had just said. I was shocked and offended. Why was she asking to translate the exact words/sentence structure as I said 2 seconds ago? I know my accent is bad, but come on! I was pissed. This American was angry. I kept thinking how this relationship was supposed to work if you can’t bear my terrible accent? She was going to have to fill herself with patience…lots of it. The sudden culture shock that I got that very moment was almost too much to handle. How was this person who is cold, stand-offish and basically can’t stand when I speak, supposed to be my friend and confidant? It didn’t help that through my perspective, everyone else and their counterpart seem to get along famously. I felt like she and I were both equally disappointed with one another. I was so frustrated after. However, almost at the most perfect time, care packagers from Conarky arrived, and I had one waiting for me! THANKS MOM AND DAD!! It could not have come at a moment I needed it more. I made my entire night much better and helped me start the following day with a more positive attitude.

The counterpart workshop, overall, was very trying. It was definitely the hardest thing we have had to do by far. I wanted to understand where my counterpart was coming from and tried to see if it was just some cultural difference or, if we actually, really didn’t like each other, so I spoke with Kristine about it. She made some valid points that I hadn’t really considered. For one, being in this environment that is so male-dominated can be very hard for a women counterpart. I did see that during our sessions, the women counterparts in the group rarely spoke, and if they did, very quietly. The situation itself for her was probably not ideal. After some research, it turns out that my counterpart’s first language is not French but Malinke, which may account for the incident with the language trainers. Also, I have been in a safe, welcoming and positive summer camp environment for the past 6 weeks. I was just served a plate of freezing cold truth. Not everyone will be so willing to help me learn French or the patience that the trainers have had with us. Like I said, I have to fill myself with understanding and patience. That is not to say that the awkwardness won’t go away. That one is here to stay for a while.

So, as a little recap on the Fouta region, here is what I know for sure:

1)There are monkeys here!! OMG! They are little spider-money sized, but they are adorable and super mischievous as they like to make tons of noise by banging on tin roofs as we had our sessions.

2)The Fouta love them some salsa. The last night at Mamou, some of us went to this really nice hotel bar/nightclub, and they played salsa music all night long. It was awesome, and everyone got really into it.

3)Small children here enjoy doing some casual yoga. Before dinner one night, Lane, one of the other trainees and a total yogi, asked a couple of us if we would like to practice. I said yes along with Abe, Hilary and Ashley. As we were doing yoga, the little kids joined in doing the same poses and trying to say the same words as Lane was. It was cute, funny and, I really wished I would have taken a picture.

Trip to Siguiri

The next few sections of this blog post will show that I am either a real badass or really crazy. My trip from Mamou to Siguiri took 13 hours. We left at 8 am and, I got to the city at 9 pm. I am the farthest away and had the longest trip out of the G21 group (badass point #1-#2). The main reason for our long voyage was the condition of the roads. Car-sick prone people beware. Here is a little interesting tit-bit about the roads in Guinea: there are so many potholes on the actual paved road that taxis, cars and giant trucks have to drive off the road in the rocky dusty ground. It is pretty counterproductive situation. In the taxi, there were a total of 10 of us crammed in real tight-5 trainees and 5 counterparts (one of which slept in the truck- he is real eccentric). Beyond the fact that we basically had to cross the entire span of the country and deal with terrible roads, the taxi also took multiple breaks throughout the ride. These aren’t your usual gas station breaks. First, we had the men-pee-in-the-bushes-off-the-side-of-the-road break. Then, we had our lunch break, which turned into the oh-damn-the-tire-deflated-so-now-we-wait-for-the-driver –to fix- it break. Finally, we had the find-the-nearest-mosque-so-the-driver-can-pray-and-the-trainees-can-find-Obama-juice break. Just as a side note, everything here is either named after Obama or has Obama’s face on it.

Once we had a sufficient amount of dust in our lungs and we could no longer feel our legs, the sign for Kankan finally appeared. Kankan is the regional capital of Haute Guinea, where our regional house is, and only 2 hours south of Siguiri. Anyway, Kankan was the final destination for 3 out of the 5 of us, so we started to disembark people. I have to say that those 11 hours together really bonded us all. We had a good time chatting and laughing for the majority of the trip. After the Kankan people got off, Chris (the nearest volunteer to me-only about 15k away) and I had to wait at another taxi stop for our ride up north. Waiting for the taxi to fill up took another hour. When we finally got on our way, I was thrilled o see that the road to Siguiri was PERFECT! Not a single pothole. It is crazy the vast difference just 2 hours earlier. By the time I got to Siguiri and the taxi had dropped off Chris, I was basically dead. I was so physically tired. When the taxi dropped my counterpart and I off, we were picked up by the boss of ROFC and then toured around for what felt like 2 hours. They went to drop things off and get me some bread and butter for dinner. The whole time I kept thinking, where am I going to stay and when can I go to sleep. Then, they stopped the car and opened a gate to show me where I was going to stay for 2 years. I won’t call it a house, because it is not. My counterpart and the boss showed me a small dusty room with the mattress still in the plastic and told me this was my room and where I was going to stay for the next two years. They then proceed to shine their flashlight, because keep in mind; this was at like 9pm, the couple of brick walls that were to be my pit latrine and well. I think due to my level of tiredness and overall exhaustion; I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I thought I was going to be hysterical. I didn’t have any place to stay! I barely have a room and no actual living space. I didn’t have any privacy because my one window faces the house in front, and I obviously have no space. I thought I was dreaming. Nonetheless, once we were done touring, since my site was still under construction, they took me to the house of one of the other bosses of ROFC and told me that I would be staying in a room in the house during my 3-day stay. It was basically like a host family situation all over again. By the time I got to sleep and they were done showing me places and things, it was almost midnight. I took the advice that my mom has always given me since I was a little kid and told myself that tomorrow was a new day and was a day of better things to come.

3 Days in Siguiri

Here are three things about Siguiri that I like from first impression: 1) lots of electricity, sometimes for more than 15 hours in the day, 2) cold drinks, due to the amount of electricity, they have plenty and 3) an awesome market, and there is so much food and random items that are available. So, one of the first things I did during my first day in Siguiri, was change my last name…my African last name. I am still going by Mariame, but instead of Troude, my last name is going to be Camera. There are many Cameras in the area and there is a whole cultural thing here about joking about being from a better family as a way of socializing and apparently Camera is a good last name to have. Thus, my new name is Mariame Camera. In Siguiri, I realized how different my host mother and her place and lifestyle are from the chef’s (French for boss) house. From simple things like eating with utensils to not having a toilet but a pit latrine, it was like a different world and made me realize how lucky I am to have a host mother who understands me and my quirks. So, my second host family experience was very interesting. It was definitely strange living with another family. They gave me a room and my own pit latrine (which was outside). Since it was not my room and contained some daily necessities like bags of rice, people often came in and out of it. As you would imagine, this made things a little awkward. Showering in a pit latrine while trying to forget about the smell of it and avoiding the cockroaches that crawl up and down the walls was an experience to say the least, as well. Haute Guinea is perhaps the poorest region of Guinea, but I may have underestimated what I was going to see. I got to see how people in the Haute live day to day, and let me tell you, it is hard work. Hard work that I will soon be participating in.

 I have realized that training has really been like summer camp. That harsh reality struck me hard in Siguiri. I have been around tons of Americans, people that are trained to understand Americans and daily comfortable schedules. Our host families in Dubreka have assisted or done everything for us from cooking to laundry to fetching water from the well. This hard life is going to be an enriching and humbling experience for me once I get to site. On my second day in Siguiri, the chef and my counterpart showed up at the house to hold a presentation at the office. I was excited to see the office, which turned out to be quite cozy and nice. They even had a conference room. Anyway, I kept asking when the presentation was going to be and they just kept saying in the morning. However, as the morning passed and African time wore on, I had a growing suspicion that there wasn’t going to be a presentation. Well, I was right. The “presentation” was really just showing me around the office for 10 minutes. I had spend all of 10 minutes looking around the office, 10 minutes asking questions and the rest of 5 hours , I studied French at the conference table. Welcome to Africa. You feel like you have done a good day’s work if you did two things, as oppose to the US’s list of 20 daily activities and things-to-do. Also during the second day, I saw my site again in the daylight and not sleep deprived and thought it wasn’t that bad. While I still lack any real privacy and space, it is my own space. I was able to meet the neighbors who seem like lovely people, saw that I have a tailor next door and meet a group of people who make the most colorful and unique soap I have ever seen, and they are just 2 minutes from my place. So, I guess it is not all bad. I will definitely need to establish my boundaries and rules early on, but I think I can deal. *Knock on wood*. What I almost couldn’t deal with was what happened the night of my 2nd day in Siguiri. The first night that I got to the chef’s house, I heard a lot of noise coming from the corner of the room, keep in mind that the room has bags of rice and other food items in it. I thought I was hearing things, but soon realized that there was something in the room. It was making a lot of noise and it definitely sounded like a rodent. Now, I wasn’t absolutely sure, but I had a strong feeling it was. When the second night came, I forgot about the rodent for a split second, but as soon as the lights went out, the noise started again. Now, I can handle cockroaches and spiders, but rodents are just awful. I decided to listen to music and read a book to forget about the noise, but after 30 minutes, I was still pretty uneasy. So, I got up and turned on the light to find empty peanut castings near the feet of my mosquito net and near my head. I literally cringed. The rodent had left evidence of its existence on my bed. I was thankful that I was listening to music because if I felt or heard that rodent near my head, I would have flipped the fuck out. Pardon my French. When I saw the peanut castings, I was done. I quietly got up, took my blanket with me and headed to the couch in the next room. I slept there until 5am before the rest of the family woke up, so I won’t have to explain why I slept on their couch and made a lot of noise until 7am to avoid seeing the rodent once I was back in my room. It was not a pleasant night to say the least. But, again, this tested my patience and sense of humor…a lot.

On the third day of my stay, I went to see the city government officials at the prefecture of Siguiri. Instead of states like in the U.S., Guinea is divided up into prefectures with its own government structure in each. I went to visit the attorney general, the secretary of ________, ect. It was an interesting experience and important to the Guinean culture because it is necessary to introduce new people to higher-ups, as well as show me the people I will need to contact to work on projects. What is also a part of Guinean culture is the vast difference in social status between men and women. Men are often sent to school and have less household chores than the women. When I was staying at the chef’s house, I saw the 3 girls in the house work all day to clean and cook. I didn’t see them go to school. I figure it is too early to approach the topic of education with the chef, but I would like to ask him later on in my service why the girls don’t go to school. I would like to help girls in Siguiri one way or another during my service, so I think it is a good idea to start collecting information. Continuing with the day, after meeting many of the city officials, I learned a life lesson in Guinea. Life lesson #14: When being compared to a past volunteer and being called timid and shy, buy said persons Fantas to pursue them otherwise. Yup, the chef compared me to a past volunteer that was in Siguiri some 5 years ago. I wasn’t too pleased and figured it is never too early to buy their approval. Just kidding. I realize it was going to happen. I explained to them that like every Guinean, Americans differ from one and another greatly. As the last activity of the day, I went to Siguiri’s market and found it to be fantastic! There is a lot of different produce and things to buy. I loved it. I even got some fake gold earrings. I have to start representing the gold mining capital of Guinea.

 Before leaving for Kankan for the regional capital visit, the Chef and my counterpart took me to meet one of the groupments made up of youth. Groupments are groups, mostly of women or youth, that meet to work on a certain skill or create a product, while using microcredit to advance their economic development. I met with a bunch of high schoolers and saw how they learned to sew and make African garments. The groupment teaches the high schoolers how to sew and make clothes, which gives them that skill, while still making a profit. It was great and the highlight of my trip to meet with the group. They seemed very excited to work with me. I even took home some of their official paperwork, so I can look through it and start working out some possible ways I could help.

Kankan=Party Town

So after the groupment visit, m y organization dropped me off at the crazy packed taxi stop and helped me get a taxi from Siguiri to Kankan. It felt good to be able to get a taxi and negotiate luggage prices in French. I am slowly figuring everything out. Once the taxi picked up Chris, we headed to Kankan, which was a 2-hour drive. Once we arrived at the regional house of PC, it was really really nice to see all of my G21 people. We acted like we hadn’t seen each other in like 4 months. I think we are all too attached. LOL. The Kankan house is like a mini version of the Conakry house. It is really cozy and great to hold all of us. In Haute Guinea right now, there are 14 people from G21 and 6 volunteers from G20. It is a great number to have and all of the education volunteers seem lovely and super happy to see us. So, the three days in the regional house was all about relaxation and unwinding. As a group, we just hang out, cooked and walked around Kankan in the day. At night, we would have a great time dancing on the rooftop terrace and playing games. We held parties all three night we were there. What can I say…GO HAUTE OR GO HOME!

On our second night in Kankan, the education volunteers and one of the response volunteers decided they wanted to throw a party for us…a toga party. It was great fun. Here is a picture from the night: Haute Guinea G21 trainees in our finest togas As for Kankan itself, as a city, it is a great. Perhaps my favorite city in Guinea. It is a big city without the big city feel. It has a terrific market, the best ice cream in all of Guinea and the place to get artisan items from Guinea. I stopped by an artisan’s gallery twice, one to get a little wooden elephant sculpture for me and one for my host mother. The guy was so nice, helpful and liked me so much that I got a little elephant structure for free. The artesian was super cool and has a customer for life in me. Kankan is just a great city to come to for my monthly visit.

Trip Back to Dubreka

 We left Kankan at 6am on Saturday morning. We had arranged for two taxis, a 9 seater and a 6 seater, to take all 14 of us back to Dubreka. It was suppose to be a 12-hour ride with us arriving at 6pm. I know the main roads of Guinea pretty well after so much travel. But anyway, we were making good time up to right outside of Kindia, which is about 2 hours from Dubreka. In Guinea, like many developing world countries, there are military checkpoints on the road. I don’t really know the purpose of them, but nonetheless, they exist. Usually when you pass a checkpoint, the driver must show their credentials, and we must show our Peace Corps-issued ID. At first, that is exactly what happened. The driver showed his ID and a few of us showed ours. As we were passing through, we saw the driver say something to one of the guards.

Moments later, we were told to pull over to the side of the road, along with the other car of trainees, who were just as confused as us of what just happened. We saw the driver arguing with the guard and run away. Before we knew it, three guards moved towards us to explain in broken English and some French what happened. Thank god for Clara, who was the hero in this situation, along with the Peace Corps driver that was driving the other car. According to the guards, they said that we were over the baggage limit on top of the car, and they wanted to charge us 40 mil Francs. The driver said no way and threatened to kill the guard, which was the big mistake. The guards got all over the guy and tried to convince us that he was absolutely terrible and that we should go with them to get out of the situation. I knew for a fact I did not want to go with the guards anywhere. Clara told them that we were with Peace Corps and if we didn’t arrive today to Dubreka, we were going to be fired and flown back to the U.S. without helping Guinea. After some more deliberation and us waiting around the cars, they told us that the driver could go if he signed a paper saying that if the man he threatened died mysteriously, he was to blame, and they would come for him. Now, I don’t know about you, but there is no way in hell I would sign a paper that said that. He didn’t want to sign and, they continued to argue. We called Peace Corps and told them what was going on, so they could talk to the driver and the guardsmen, along with Clara and the PC driver that were trying to defuse the situation. After about an hour, the driver agreed to sign the paper so we could be on our way. Obviously, with this delay, we did not get in at 6pm. I have to say that while the incident above sounds strange, we were not in danger. We handled the situation well without freaking out. As for the driver, it would be easy to blame him for this whole thing. While he shouldn’t have lost his temper, it is also hard for taxi drivers to make a living when at every checkpoint, the guards ask for money, especially when there are Fotês in the car. It was an all around lose-lose situation and a good wake up call for all of us of the serious situation in Guinea, which differs from the sheltered walls of Dubreka. But, anyway, we made it to Dubreka about 8pm. We were all thrilled to be back “home” and excited to see our host families. I felt like I had been out of Dubreka for more than a month.

 So, what I am up to now that I am back in Dubreka? I want to enjoy my host family, particularly my host mom a lot. She is teaching me how to cook different dishes and, I am learning other Guinean life lessons. My host mom also got a puppy that she named “Blackie”. He is so incredibly adorable, so I am sure I will be cuddling up to him a lot over the last 3 weeks remaining of PST. I can’t believe we are so close to the end! It is insane how the time passes by. I also plan on getting a dress made in Guinean cloths. I can’t wait to wear really bold prints. I will be going this week to visit my host cousin to check out what fabrics she has. It will be my first official African outfit. Also, I will make sure to enjoy the company of everyone, PCT staff included, as it will not be until May that I will be able to see everyone again. I am just trying to absorb and appreciate everything around me before leaving Dubreka.

 Lastly, according to the chef of my organization, there are no internet cafes in Siguiri. I don’t know how true that may be, so I will have to do some research and searching when I get to Siguiri. I will keep you all informed of my possible internet usage. If what my Chef said is true, I will only be able to use the internet once a month when I am at the Kankan regional house. I am sorry! Keep writing me emails and such, as I will get back to you. It just might take a longer time than usual. I miss you all very much!!

Sorry for the epic blog post. Hope you enjoyed it!

Bon Courage et Bon Chance,

Carolina