A Family Get Together

Once a month volunteers are allowed to make a visit to their regional capital to do things like stock up on food you can’t get at site and, more importantly, take a little break. In Haute (like in the other regions) we try to plan to be here on the same weekend so we can all hang out — for example, in March we’ll all come in for St. Paddy’s day.  When we’re all at the house together, we spend a lot of time cooking, listening to music, and sharing stories over warm beer. We do at least one huge group meal during the weekend.

Last night we had our big group dinner for this visit. We spent all day shopping and preparing for our feast last night, which consisted of fried chicken, onion rings, noodles in peanut and onion sauce, fried dough, brownies, and banana milkshake-like things — all homemade.

So yesterday afternoon, David, who is unofficially the leader of Haute Guinea group meals, came home from the market with ten chickens. He quickly left to take care of some other business. The chickens were squaking quite obnoxiously, ruining the ambiance in the compound. A few minutes later we found some of them had managed to untie their feet and had gotten loose. We spent a good 20 minutes chasing these guys all over the compound trying to catch them and getting chicken poop all over ourselves in the process. The whole scene looked absolutely ridiculous. So, G16 (that’s us education volunteers) decided we’d had enough, their time was up, and we went to town killing these chickens. We brought them around the side of the house, and one of us would hold down their body and legs while another would kneel on their wings, pull their head so their neck was taught and eyes covered, and cut away. You have to hold them down for a few minutes after you remove the head because the animal will, as the saying goes, run around like a chicken with its head cut off if you don’t. Then you break the legs and cut them off. Following that, you place them in a larger bowl and soak them in boiling water for a few minutes to loosen up the feathers for the depluming. Levi and I were quite a team, killing a total of eight chickens while Jesse took down other two. To kill and deplume all ten chickens took five of us about two to three hours, but we had good company and good music. Next time I’m in Conakry, I’ll put up some photos. And let me tell you how delicious that fresh chicken was last night — amazing.

Today after I finish on the internet, I’m going to shop for some produce for Mme Kaba, eat some scrumptuous rice and sauce (the best I’ve found in country), and then head back to the house to relax, read, and socialize for the rest of the day before we head back home tomorrow morning.

Hopefully I’ll be able to update again in a week. Until then, take care. Much love from Guinea!

Guinean Teaching

Welcome to 2009, everyone! I am writing to you from Kankan, my regional capital and the second largest city in Guinea. We are here to welcome the new group of extension volunteers (G17) to the Haute Guinea family. They are in the midst of training and have all just seen their sites for the first time. I have two new neighbors – Paul in Dabola (23K from Bissikrima) and Sacha in Cobala (60K). They’ll be swearing in and moving out to site at the beginning of February – very exciting to be getting new volunteers!

So I got back to site around 6:45AM on December 30th. I hung out for about a week, and Ben was nice enough to come down and keep me company for a few of those days, before school started back up January 5th.

Oh school. This has been a point of major stress lately because my 10th graders are so far behind where they’re supposed to be and that national exam, which determines whether or not they get to continue their education, is looming. I recently found out from one of my students that they didn’t even do math in 7th and 8th grade, which explains the whole not being able to add and subtract numbers issue we were having. I thought my kids were just absolutely terrible at math, but no math in 7th and 8th grade and just half a year in 9th grade explains a lot. It became apparent the week after the break what strides they’ve been making. They’re getting much better at their multiplication tables, and I don’t have to explain how I arrived at a sum or difference every single time I add or subtract numbers in the middle of a problem. I have to give them credit, they’ve come to grasp some pretty complicated concepts (like equations with an unknown and factorization) given their lack of a basic foundation, which really impresses me.

What also impressed me were the scores of my girls on the test I gave right before the break. There was one single person who got 100% — a female. Many of the other girls got A’s. This is huge. First of all, my classes all have 70-80 kids but never more than 16 girls. The further along you get in the education system here, the fewer and fewer females you find. One of my 8th graders was married over the break, and I’m saddened to say she’s not the first in her class to be wed (and pregnant soon enough I’m sure). Not only that, but the girls are also the school janitors. At Ben’s school for example, the area around the flagpole needed to be cleaned, so the Principal made all the girls spend a day taking care of that while the boys were in class learning. Girls are the ones who sweep the classrooms every morning. Always. Maybe this is mean, but I am always waiting for a boy to complain that the classroom is dirty so I can make him sweep. Oh boy does this cause chaos. They think I’m joking and laugh. When they realize I’m not, the boy will generally refuse while a well-intentioned girl will race to pick up the broom because it’s so ingrained in them that this is women’s work only. I’ll tell the girl to drop the broom and give the boy two choices: sweep or leave. About half choose to leave and forfeit the lesson for the day, and the other half sweep angrily while the rest of the boys stand around laughing at him and the bolder girls point out the spots they missed. Needless to say the girls face many more obstacles than the boys, so the fact that they were the best scores in the class put a huge smile on my face. You go girls!

We are currently in the midst of orange season. They are overly abundant, incredibly delicious, and green strangely enough. When I don’t get them as gifts from my students or Madame Kaba, I buy them six for ten cents. They actually don’t eat oranges here in Guinea; they drink them. They skin the outermost layer, cut off the top, and squeeze and suck the dou (sweet) juice from the fruit. They’re pretty much the only sweet food I can find (aside from all the delicious care package goodies you send me), and I find can’t stop eating them – usually about five a day. I sit outside after lunch eating them (making a big sticky mess of myself) and then throw the leftover part at the cows and goats that get too near my yard.

Drinks here, such as various juices and water, are generally sold in small plastic bags. You bite off one of the bottom corners and let the liquid drain into your parched mouth. Unless you’re incredibly uncoordinated like myself, and you let some of the liquid in your mouth, try to take a break/breath, and spill the remaining liquid out of the missing corner and all over your freshly, hand-washed clothes. So I try to avoid these drink sachets, but Madame Kaba is always giving me her fresh juice creations, and since she has a refrigerator which gets them good and cold, I just can’t refuse. At least the cold drink all over my chest and stomach cools me down. My favorite so far has been the juice from the baobob fruit. I’ll put up a picture of a boabob next time I’m in Conakry. My village is full of them, and some of them must be over 500 years old.

Alright, last thing before I end this novel! I know I’ve said it before, but I must say it again. THANK YOU! Thank you so much for all the care packages and letters you’ve been sending. It’s hard being here (although it gets easier everyday), but I am lucky in that Christmas comes to me once a month in the form of the mailrun. The land cruiser rolls up to my hut around 6AM, but I’m up at 4 anxiously awaiting and anticipating, and I’ve never been let down. I love reading your letters, getting news of your lives and home, reading your words of encouragement, opening packages to find tastes of America and thoughtful gifts like a book lamp, a Sudoku book, fly swatters, magazines, etc. I spend hours on the floor of my hut treasuring everything I pull out of those packages and reading and rereading your messages. And without fail, these grand occasions end with tears of happiness rolling down my cheeks thinking how lucky I am to have such wonderful friends and family who are so thoughtful, generous, and caring. It happens every time – I can’t help it. I really can’t tell you what it means to me. I appreciate it.

I’ll be in the Fouta Djallon the last week of January for our in-service training. I should be able to use the internet there, but as the older, more experienced volunteers say here in Guinea, you never know if it’s going to happen until it’s happens. In challah I will have more words for you in a week or so. Until then take care, stay warm, and enjoy a cup of hot cocoa with extra marshmallows for me!