I know I have not been a very consistent blogger. Sorry. This will be my last entry.
Today is my last day in Burkina Faso. I am very ready to go home and enjoy all of the comforts that go along with it but of course it is going to be difficult to leave, especially because I have no idea if and when I will get a chance to return. Last weekend, we went back to the villages for a few more days to say goodbye. I am so grateful for all of the people here who have made my experience amazing and unforgetable.
These last couple of days, we have been talking about culture shock and reintegrating into life in the US. I have not been here so long that I will have a seizer from watching TV but it will be a strange sensation to walk on a sidewalk or see white people everywhere. I will also probably still expect the roosters or the mosques or donkeys freaking out to wake me up at five in the morning.
One thing we know we will encounter all of the time when we get back is people asking us "How was Africa?" whether they care or not. Vague questions will receive vague answers and we've come up with a few.
"How was Africa?"
"Good. How was North America?"
"How was Africa?"
"There were a lot of black people."
"How was Africa?"
"I spent three months hiding from cannibals in a cave surviving off of lion meat and mud."
"How was Africa?"
"There are 45 countries in Africa. I was in one. Burkina Faso. It was incredible."
I know that the lovely and informed readers of this blog will never ask me "How was Africa?" Thank you so much for keeping up to date with my life, even when I am not very good at keeping you up to date. I will see you all this weekend!
Love, Lafi, Baraka, aniché!
Merry
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Monday, November 30, 2009
Barfadougou
I mean't to post this before we left for a week vacation in Mali but I forgot. The disease I meantion below was thought to be typhoid but it turned out to be Klebsiella sp. which is a similar disease that I am now rid of hooray!
November 21, 2009
We have been back in Ouagadougou for a few days now, rushing to finish the children’s books we are making for our libraries. Fortunately, I had finished the bulk of my book work before our return because I have been spending most of my time in doctor’s offices and passed out in bed. No, all that knocking on wood did not keep the parasites away. My last days in the village were spent hating life and especially hating the hole in the ground that was my toilet. Two days before we returned to Ouaga, I woke up with a fever and a stomachache that kept me in bed not eating up until a few days ago. After various tests, the doctor concluded that I have amoebas, a bacterial infection in my intestines and possibly something worse that I won’t mention because it sounds really bad but I probably don’t have it anyway so why worry you and I find out about that today. Anyway I am on the mend, just really tired and really really medicated. I am using this time in Ouaga to lay in bed with my computer and movies.
My last days in Bereba were not all puking and death, I also celebrated my 21st birthday and I must say it was a very eventful day. I spent the night before in Lizzie and Louise’s village half an hour down the road where we spent most of our time at the one bar with electricity. We had just finished our beers and I was the perfect amount of tipsy for the day before my 21st birthday. Then the police chief decided to buy us another round of beers. I should mention that a beer in Burkina Faso is always 30oz, none of those little pansy beers we drink in the US. Basically I hated myself the next day riding the rickety little bus down the dirt road back to Bereba. But my deadly hangover was appeased a few miles down the road, when we saw an elephant in the forest between the two villages! Wild elephants! It was the best birthday present ever. The rest of my birthday was eventful but I’m too tired to write details. Here are the facts. Market day, birthday crown, little man dancing on his hands, burkinabé circus, yummy spicy chicken dinner, kangaroo rat. Imagine what you may. That night, we all piled in our program van and went to the nearest town where we had class every week to see the most famous singer in Burkina Faso who was singing at the only restaurant in the town where we ate every week also. Yes the most famous singer in the country lip-sinked to his songs amongst a crowd of drunk Burkinabe men at a dirty little restaurant in a remote town. Such is Burkina Faso, you have to love it.
November 21, 2009
We have been back in Ouagadougou for a few days now, rushing to finish the children’s books we are making for our libraries. Fortunately, I had finished the bulk of my book work before our return because I have been spending most of my time in doctor’s offices and passed out in bed. No, all that knocking on wood did not keep the parasites away. My last days in the village were spent hating life and especially hating the hole in the ground that was my toilet. Two days before we returned to Ouaga, I woke up with a fever and a stomachache that kept me in bed not eating up until a few days ago. After various tests, the doctor concluded that I have amoebas, a bacterial infection in my intestines and possibly something worse that I won’t mention because it sounds really bad but I probably don’t have it anyway so why worry you and I find out about that today. Anyway I am on the mend, just really tired and really really medicated. I am using this time in Ouaga to lay in bed with my computer and movies.
My last days in Bereba were not all puking and death, I also celebrated my 21st birthday and I must say it was a very eventful day. I spent the night before in Lizzie and Louise’s village half an hour down the road where we spent most of our time at the one bar with electricity. We had just finished our beers and I was the perfect amount of tipsy for the day before my 21st birthday. Then the police chief decided to buy us another round of beers. I should mention that a beer in Burkina Faso is always 30oz, none of those little pansy beers we drink in the US. Basically I hated myself the next day riding the rickety little bus down the dirt road back to Bereba. But my deadly hangover was appeased a few miles down the road, when we saw an elephant in the forest between the two villages! Wild elephants! It was the best birthday present ever. The rest of my birthday was eventful but I’m too tired to write details. Here are the facts. Market day, birthday crown, little man dancing on his hands, burkinabé circus, yummy spicy chicken dinner, kangaroo rat. Imagine what you may. That night, we all piled in our program van and went to the nearest town where we had class every week to see the most famous singer in Burkina Faso who was singing at the only restaurant in the town where we ate every week also. Yes the most famous singer in the country lip-sinked to his songs amongst a crowd of drunk Burkinabe men at a dirty little restaurant in a remote town. Such is Burkina Faso, you have to love it.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Bobo Dioulasso for the weekend
This has been my first internet access since I got to the villages so forgive my infrequent blogging and the typing errors I am bound to make on this french keyboard. Bereba has been amazing so far. Once again it is an experience that I have a hard time articualating as of yet but when I get back to Ouaga I will have more time to write.
Right now I can hear the Moezzin sp? screaming the friday call to prayer from a nearby mosque which is a sound that no longer phases me. I really love this country so much. I have now studied its history, its cultures, economy and languages. I know its problems and the pain the Burkinabe feel because of them. But the seemingly hopelessness of their problems now pains me as well. Living in Bereba has thought me my own insignificance in the face of these problems but it has also shown me the impact that anyone can make through solidarity and understanding. By pumping my own water, by learning their language, songs and dances, by helping with the cotton harvest I can at least come away knowing more with the intention to return engraved in me. The issues are so deep seeded. Cotton, land, credit, education and the list goes on. Aid money rarely makes it as far as a village like Bereba and there is corruption even on the local level.
I will be back in Ouagadougou in a little over a week. I cant wait to have time to write about the incredible experience I have been living in the village.
Baraka!
Merry
Right now I can hear the Moezzin sp? screaming the friday call to prayer from a nearby mosque which is a sound that no longer phases me. I really love this country so much. I have now studied its history, its cultures, economy and languages. I know its problems and the pain the Burkinabe feel because of them. But the seemingly hopelessness of their problems now pains me as well. Living in Bereba has thought me my own insignificance in the face of these problems but it has also shown me the impact that anyone can make through solidarity and understanding. By pumping my own water, by learning their language, songs and dances, by helping with the cotton harvest I can at least come away knowing more with the intention to return engraved in me. The issues are so deep seeded. Cotton, land, credit, education and the list goes on. Aid money rarely makes it as far as a village like Bereba and there is corruption even on the local level.
I will be back in Ouagadougou in a little over a week. I cant wait to have time to write about the incredible experience I have been living in the village.
Baraka!
Merry
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Until November
Hello everyone. The last week has been a whirlwind of finishing classes, packing, puking and trying to figure out how to get around the ridiculous set of rules imposed on us. Last weekend, a bug hit the girl’s house ripping apart their insides like an alien fetus darning socks out of their intestines. At least this is how it was described to me. I however was lucky enough not to catch this 24-hour flu (knock on wood). I actually have been really healthy here so far, which sort of surprises me (knock on wood again). With the huge health care debate going on in the US at the moment, I keep reminding myself how lucky we are to even have healthcare. Burkina Faso has 1,300 doctors, which is one for about every 5,000 people. A few weeks ago, our housekeeper, Salimata’s, brother died of typhoid at 25. They misdiagnosed it as malaria and because of the flood; there is now only one hospital so you can imagine how much attention he was given. The saddest part is that they most likely would have been able to save him had they diagnosed it correctly. Sorry I didn’t mean to go off on a depressing tangent. Anyway… I’m glad I have not gotten sick.
Last night was our last dance class. I am going to miss that class so much. It ended up being our loophole to get out of the house a few nights a week to see more of the city. The program is just so worried that something will go wrong that they have made some pretty unreasonable rules. This is why I do not necessarily feel guilty breaking these rules slightly. Again, if you are Michael Kevane or David Pace, have mercy. There is a festival going on right now in the city called Waga Hip Hop showcasing different Burkinabé hip hop artists and dance crews. So last night after dance class, we hopped in a cab and instead of going home, we went to a local venue and watched a freestyle battle with our friends. Imagine rappers dissing each other in front of a crowd of hundreds of people. Now imagine them free styling in a mixture of Moore and French. There were no women in the crowd and we made up half of the white population. It was quite an experience. I had a conversation with the guy behind me about Tupac, the Nabba (chief) of hip hop and how Biggie does not compare. Let it be known that I really don’t care and I really know nothing about Biggie and Tupac, but somehow I talk more about them with people here than I do about Barack Obama.
I am about to go to bed and get up at 5am to leave for our villages. I will be staying in the village of Béréba with my friend Meghan. It’s strange because I feel as nervous and giddy as I did when I left to come to Ouaga. We are embarking on a completely new experience for the next five weeks. I am excited and ready to live simply with little to no communication with the world outside the village. Meghan and I will be living in a two room house with no electricity or plumbing, while we work in the village library organizing programs, tutoring and promoting literacy. I hope to come back being able to speak Dioula, the local language. Basically, this will most likely be my last post until mid November unless I find an internet café on one of our visits to the nearest city, Bobo-Dioulasso. Thank you everyone for being so supportive.
Last night was our last dance class. I am going to miss that class so much. It ended up being our loophole to get out of the house a few nights a week to see more of the city. The program is just so worried that something will go wrong that they have made some pretty unreasonable rules. This is why I do not necessarily feel guilty breaking these rules slightly. Again, if you are Michael Kevane or David Pace, have mercy. There is a festival going on right now in the city called Waga Hip Hop showcasing different Burkinabé hip hop artists and dance crews. So last night after dance class, we hopped in a cab and instead of going home, we went to a local venue and watched a freestyle battle with our friends. Imagine rappers dissing each other in front of a crowd of hundreds of people. Now imagine them free styling in a mixture of Moore and French. There were no women in the crowd and we made up half of the white population. It was quite an experience. I had a conversation with the guy behind me about Tupac, the Nabba (chief) of hip hop and how Biggie does not compare. Let it be known that I really don’t care and I really know nothing about Biggie and Tupac, but somehow I talk more about them with people here than I do about Barack Obama.
I am about to go to bed and get up at 5am to leave for our villages. I will be staying in the village of Béréba with my friend Meghan. It’s strange because I feel as nervous and giddy as I did when I left to come to Ouaga. We are embarking on a completely new experience for the next five weeks. I am excited and ready to live simply with little to no communication with the world outside the village. Meghan and I will be living in a two room house with no electricity or plumbing, while we work in the village library organizing programs, tutoring and promoting literacy. I hope to come back being able to speak Dioula, the local language. Basically, this will most likely be my last post until mid November unless I find an internet café on one of our visits to the nearest city, Bobo-Dioulasso. Thank you everyone for being so supportive.
Friday, October 9, 2009
My friend Elena has inspired me to write this entry. A problem we have all encountered is articulating our experience here in Burkina Faso to those back home. Its not that it’s too profound and silly Americans could never understand. Not at all. Its just that in sharing our experiences here, there is no way to really do justice to the experience itself or change I am going through. I cannot explain the little moments and observations that are too small to point out but without these hundreds of seemingly unimportant events, I would not be able to interpret the bigger picture that makes this experience incredible.
My housemate Yuki, just walked in a minute ago as I was writing this and his first disenchanted words were, “Its incredible how everyone in this country always wants something from you.” Sometimes it is hard when writing home not to romanticize the experience into stories of self-realization and world discovery. Trust me there is plenty of that, but there is just as much difficulty and frustration. As I have said before, I have found the Burkinabé to be sweet, beautiful and generous but sometimes I feel like every time I have a conversation I end up lying about having a husband, no phone and no email. And I cannot blame these people either. There are no opportunities here. Half the population would be ready to get on a plane out of Burkina Faso tomorrow. The positives and negatives of being here are sometimes too hard to balance bringing on a state of confusion that is difficult to reconcile. As I try to articulate this to you I myself am trying to come to terms with the irrelevance of my own culture and its comforts. But don’t worry; I’m not depressed or ungrateful. I’m happy and healthy having the time of my life here. If it were all just a series of heart-warming anecdotes, then I wouldn’t have wanted to come anyway.
My housemate Yuki, just walked in a minute ago as I was writing this and his first disenchanted words were, “Its incredible how everyone in this country always wants something from you.” Sometimes it is hard when writing home not to romanticize the experience into stories of self-realization and world discovery. Trust me there is plenty of that, but there is just as much difficulty and frustration. As I have said before, I have found the Burkinabé to be sweet, beautiful and generous but sometimes I feel like every time I have a conversation I end up lying about having a husband, no phone and no email. And I cannot blame these people either. There are no opportunities here. Half the population would be ready to get on a plane out of Burkina Faso tomorrow. The positives and negatives of being here are sometimes too hard to balance bringing on a state of confusion that is difficult to reconcile. As I try to articulate this to you I myself am trying to come to terms with the irrelevance of my own culture and its comforts. But don’t worry; I’m not depressed or ungrateful. I’m happy and healthy having the time of my life here. If it were all just a series of heart-warming anecdotes, then I wouldn’t have wanted to come anyway.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
A Bit of Political History
Burkina Faso has a pretty interesting history. Unlike its neighbors, Burkina has not experienced an internal conflict in its modern history unless you count five coup d’états since independence. Burkina Faso is most known for its revolution in 1983 where young Marxist leadership, Thomas Sankara, took power. The previous regime had made Sankara prime minister fearing the backlash of the young militants. Because of disagreements between the young and old leadership’s clashing ideals, Sankara and his friend were jailed in mid-1983, but Sankara’s best friend and political ally, Blaise Campaoré, fled returning months later to free his friends from prison and on August 4, 1983, Thomas Sankara became president at the age of 34 in a coup d’état. Campaore was his prime minister. From 1983-1987, Sankara gave a huge amount of power to peasants, farmers and the working class kicking out Europeans and foreign imperial investment, like any good Marxist would do. He is still thought of as a kind of savior for Burkina Faso, fighting corruption and driving himself around in a beat up Peugeot. He increased literacy to 60%, provided vaccinations and improved women’s rights. Sankara changed the country’s name from Upper-Volta, its colonial name, to Burkina Faso, which is a combination of Moore and Dioula meaning land of the honest or uncorrupt.
Of course many people weren’t happy, especially the bourgeoisie and the United States, and in 1987 Blaise Campaoré, his best friend, took power killing Sankara. And guess who is still president today… Blaise Campaoré. There is not much political expression or opposition to Campaoré out of fear but he is not a horrible president by African standards and Burkina Faso has been stable despite its painfully slow growth. 2010 is an election year but its hard to imagine Blaise not winning. I don’t think he will ever step down and he is still young, 57. It scares me to think about the future of Burkina Faso and how they will or will not get rid of him. Either this means a violent revolution or twenty more years of corruption and little to no growth neither of, which a country as poor as Burkina can afford.
Of course many people weren’t happy, especially the bourgeoisie and the United States, and in 1987 Blaise Campaoré, his best friend, took power killing Sankara. And guess who is still president today… Blaise Campaoré. There is not much political expression or opposition to Campaoré out of fear but he is not a horrible president by African standards and Burkina Faso has been stable despite its painfully slow growth. 2010 is an election year but its hard to imagine Blaise not winning. I don’t think he will ever step down and he is still young, 57. It scares me to think about the future of Burkina Faso and how they will or will not get rid of him. Either this means a violent revolution or twenty more years of corruption and little to no growth neither of, which a country as poor as Burkina can afford.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Ouagadougou weekend
Ani-Sogoma!
Last week was a dark time for the FAVL students. Some people didn’t make it through with their sanity but I managed to come out of it relieved and happy. Three tests, one French novel, various lectures and a dance performance. They have completely front-loaded our classes so that we have the bulk of our work done before we leave for the villages in two weeks. Its like cramming five 4-unit classes, three of which are upper division, into a five-week period. On top of that our Economics/Service learning/program director professor went back to the states two weeks ago, so for our huge econ test we had to teach ourselves three fourths of the material based on readings and uninformative guest lectures. Now we cannot wait to get to our villages and have ten hours a day of free time.
After a day of recovery I got rid of the nervous twitch my eye had acquired specially for our econ test, and I was happy to get out of the house to explore more of Ouaga. Lizzie, Elena and Meghan were in a small dance performance for our bi-weekly dance class at the French cultural center that afternoon so we all headed over there to admire and simultaneously make fun of them. If you’ve read my earlier posts, you are aware of the somewhat extreme rules imposed on us about going out so if you run into David Pace or Michael Kevane one day on the street, please don’t tell them about this blog. Or if you are one of these two men, have mercy. That said, after the performance, Lizzie, Elena, and I took a cab to meet up with our friend Meredith, and some burkinabé friends we know from dance class, Marius, Romielle and Baya the drummer and a French girl working in microfinance. After drinks, we went dancing at an out door bar and ate brochettes (goat meat on a stick, soooo gooood) for 50cfa (about 10cents) apiece. It was so much fun to get away from all of the white hang outs we end up at and actually get out in Ouagadougou. Don’t worry we were really safe… mom.
I’ll keep trying to upload photos!
Bisous,
Merry
Last week was a dark time for the FAVL students. Some people didn’t make it through with their sanity but I managed to come out of it relieved and happy. Three tests, one French novel, various lectures and a dance performance. They have completely front-loaded our classes so that we have the bulk of our work done before we leave for the villages in two weeks. Its like cramming five 4-unit classes, three of which are upper division, into a five-week period. On top of that our Economics/Service learning/program director professor went back to the states two weeks ago, so for our huge econ test we had to teach ourselves three fourths of the material based on readings and uninformative guest lectures. Now we cannot wait to get to our villages and have ten hours a day of free time.
After a day of recovery I got rid of the nervous twitch my eye had acquired specially for our econ test, and I was happy to get out of the house to explore more of Ouaga. Lizzie, Elena and Meghan were in a small dance performance for our bi-weekly dance class at the French cultural center that afternoon so we all headed over there to admire and simultaneously make fun of them. If you’ve read my earlier posts, you are aware of the somewhat extreme rules imposed on us about going out so if you run into David Pace or Michael Kevane one day on the street, please don’t tell them about this blog. Or if you are one of these two men, have mercy. That said, after the performance, Lizzie, Elena, and I took a cab to meet up with our friend Meredith, and some burkinabé friends we know from dance class, Marius, Romielle and Baya the drummer and a French girl working in microfinance. After drinks, we went dancing at an out door bar and ate brochettes (goat meat on a stick, soooo gooood) for 50cfa (about 10cents) apiece. It was so much fun to get away from all of the white hang outs we end up at and actually get out in Ouagadougou. Don’t worry we were really safe… mom.
I’ll keep trying to upload photos!
Bisous,
Merry
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