Big News

Have you heard? I’m sure it’s all over the news in the States… ha. I kid. It was announced last night that Lansana Conte, the second president of Guinea since independence in 1958 who has been in power for 25 years, has died. The military has taken over and the constitution has been suspended. All of the PCVs are safe in our respective locales, but it’s quite shocking. The gas stations are all closed, and there are very few cars on the road. I know this because I went to see my friend Ashley’s site an hour and a half away from Conakry last night. We woke up this morning to find that Conte had died. Luckily, they decided the roads were safe enough and sent a Peace Corps car to pick us up. So here we are, safe at the compound. Things seem calm, and we’ll be going for a swim later today.

It was great to see Ashley’s site, which is here in the Basse Cote. It is not far from where we trained, so I got a little reminder of those humid nights I spent tossing, turning, and sweating buckets on my foam mattress. It isn’t that hot but just oh so miserably humid. But it is also a lot more lush and green than in Haute Guinee where I live. She has a beautiful view from her front porch, and we sat out there enjoying each other’s company this morning with some of her petits (little helpers). I was so happy to have the opportunity to visit.

Men in Guinea are very forward. More than one person in Ashley’s village asked her to give me to them (as a wife — because women are property more than anything else here). Last week Ben’s best friend at site told him, “Il faut me donner Assiatou” (you must give me Assiatou, which is my Guinean name). Ben’s friend wanted to do a trade — he’d give Ben one of his sisters (a 14-year-old), and Ben would give him me. Notice how neither I nor this guy’s sister were at all involved in this negotiation. Lovely. It gets really tiring to deal with sometimes. I also find myself taking up quite an attitude with any man who so much as says hi to me, but I’m enjoying being feisty with Guinean men. When my host mom’s son (age 36) told me he wanted to marry an American, insinuating me, I told him “me too. I want to marry an American, too.” Apparently this wasn’t the response he was expecting. As Ben once told me, Guinean men aren’t sure what to do with educated, independent women, so I’m having fun making them flustered and uncomfortable.

This is off topic, but I’ve been wanting to put this in my blog. When we first moved in with our host families, I started seeing all these big plastic tea-kettles all over. I thought and I thought, but I couldn’t figure out how you would use a plastic tea-kettle — I mean, wouldn’t the plastic kind of ruin the water? Well, I noticed Guineans using them to clean their feet, hands, face, shoes, etc before praying because it’s the closest thing you can get to running water in this country. But I also noticed Guineans taking them to the bathroom. Why? Because, I learned, these kettles are not just used for cleaning yourself before praying; they serve multiple purposes. There’s this thing here called the water method, and you use it if you don’t have toilet paper. So this kettle isn’t just any kettle,  it’s an ”ass-kettle” as I’m sure you can now guess why. They’ve completely grossed me out up until Thanksgiving. I mean, would you want to use something called an “ass-kettle” to clean your hands before you eat? But, over Thanksgiving I caved an bought one, and it is nice to use for washing your hands and feet, and I hope I never have to use it otherwise…

Time for a haircut and a swim! I’ll keep you posted on the political situation. Happy holidays, all