vaccination monster

Okay, so I got an email last week saying that there was a WHO polio vaccination campaign going on across all West Africa the upcoming weekend, and encouraging volunteers to go to their local health center (CSPS) and see if they could help. So, I did. And the majeur, the head of the CSPS, let me go with him and another worker to do vaccinations in some of the villages in Bagre! I didn't do a whole lot- just tallied the number of kids who got vaccinated and their ages, but I got to wear a super cool “kick polio out of Burkina” shirt (but in french, bien sur) and follow their moto on my bike (does a body good) and make children cry- both because of the vaccine, and because I'm a monster. Which is especially true in the bush, where they've definitely never seen a white person before.
The vaccine is only two drops, taken orally, which is amazingly convenient. And most of these kids have been vaccinated before, in shots they received as babies. But here people tend either to not know about vaccinations, or are reluctant to get their children vaccinated- just like in the US, there's a lot of misinformation about vaccines, and people blame them for any illness the kids get after receiving them. So campaigns like this are often a way to try to catch people who've fallen through the cracks.
Again, I didn't do much, but it was a fun kind of experience, and I got some pictures, and visited some compounds hidden way out in the bush, and hopefully I'll be able to work with the CSPS a lot more in the future. Although, the majeur asked me out afterwards- that complicates things a little. If I can navigate that cordially, then maybe I'll still be able to work with the CSPS in the future.

garden!

My garden! Look at these fabulous baby tomatoes. I'm desperately hoping that they make it.
Liz, the volunteer before me, planted this garden at the beginning of the rainy season- June maybe? And now I have boatloads of cucumbers. There were some less successful crops- the corn was very sad, the peanuts aren't looking so hot, and the watermelons were a bust. But there are about a dozen promising tomato plants, I already harvested the beans that were growing, and I just discovered mint in a corner of my courtyard! And of course, the bissap takeover. There are some trees, too- a couple of good little mango trees, that may be producing by the time I leave, and two moringa trees which are huge already. Moringa is like this magical tree that lots of NGOs and agricultural and health projects promote. It grows incredibly fast, in difficult conditions, and the leaves are incredibly nutritious. I'll get you the pamphlet. But it's nice to have some big trees around my courtyard- it makes it feel more homey.

school!

Classes start Thursday! October 1. I'm pretty excited to start my job and feel purposeful for the first time in a month. I mean, I understand that the Peace Corps wants us to have time to integrate into the community, get our bearings, maybe have a little time off after the overscheduled-ness of training, and I've certainly enjoyed it. I've been cooking, baking, painting, drawing, sewing, biking, yoga-ing, reading, lots of very nice things. But I've felt more integrated over the past few days, since I started seeing my coworkers and other teachers have moved into my neighborhood, than I did the entire first few weeks.
So there are six teachers at my school, with a couple more coming for just a few classes. And there are 412 students registered so far, in four grades (with one grade split into two classes because it's so big.) And there is a total of 136 credit hours to be taught. I personally feel like a huge bum, because I am currently scheduled to teach only 9 hours at that school, the middle school (although that's still in question- I'll likely get at least one more class!) while other teachers have up to 5 distinct courses to teach. But it is my first year, and I'm basically unpaid- my money comes from the Peace Corps, so as far as Burkina Faso is concerned, I'm a volunteer. That's how I justify it at least.
It's possible that the number of students versus teachers has caught your attention. Well, schools here tend to have classes that are somewhat on the large side. Like, in 6eme, which is the large grade with two classes, the director of my school limited the number of students to 96 per class. Meaning that I'll go into a classroom of 96 students with nothing but chalk and my lesson plan, and try to teach them order of operations. Hm. At least my physics class will be smaller- only 64 students have registered so far. But again, teaching materials equal chalk and whatever I bring in to class. No lab out in the bush! I'm planning on lots of science fair project-type experiments... baking soda and vinegar volcano!!! I expect it to be a big hit.

bissap

I came back from Ouaga last week to a lovely surprise: my bissap bushes were blooming! Okay, it's more like a bissap forest. But I don't want to cut them down until they mature and I can harvest the flowers to make... juice!

I think “bissap” is the moore word for hibiscus. That's what I was told. But I think I've heard people call the leaves of the plant (which are edible and are often put into sauces) “oseille,” which according to my dictionary translates as sorrel. So I'm just kind of generally fuzzy on the topic. Anyway, the flowers wilt leaving behind the base of the flower, which grows into a sort of fruit. You collect those and boil them down into these small red grains that can then be made into juice! I'm very excited about the prospect. And if my crop is as bountiful as seems likely, I'll definitely be sending some of the grains stateside to spread the Burkina love around. Oh, and I'm pretty sure you can make bissap wine, too, which tastes dangerously like the juice.

livestock

Don't you love it? That's the view out my back window. The african cows are kind of great. The little kids (like, tiny kids) bring them over to the fields around my house every day. The kids also bring donkeys sometimes, and occasionally they have donkey races. I'm usually pretty uncomfortable around large animals, but the cows here are really docile, so even if I have to ride my bike through a herd of them crossing the road they'll just stop and make a space for me. And now the great ambition of my life is to ride a donkey. I think my neighbor boy Danny is going to take me out to his family's rice fields in his donkey cart, which is... awesome. If it happens, you're going to see about a trillion pictures. Get ready.

sacrifices

This is my first real hardship. I knew that I would have to give up things in the Peace Corps, but this one hurts: I just discovered that the Steelers have a game today- it's football season. I don't know if I'll make it two years without football.
Other sad sacrifices: Vogue. The Office (which I hear also just started up again,) 30 Rock, etc. Knowing what's going on in the world. Heels. Boots. Skirts and dresses that show my knees. NPR. Kojo Nnamdi.

frenchie french, african french

So, they speak french here. It's the language spoken in school, so anyone who has been to school has some level of french speaking ability. And it's what I'll be teaching in. In village there are a lot of people who speak only a local language (in my area it's moore, and sometimes bissa,) but my village is pretty big and I'll be working with a lot of functionnaires who all speak french.
I have to say, I studied french in school, and I think it's the main thing that has made my life here go so beautifully. I'm nowhere near fluent, but I tested into the Peace Corps with over the minimum level they require us to reach to teach here. So the language portion of training for me was all conversation, and the stress level was pretty low. And when I got to my host family I had it pretty easy because I was able to have really great conversations with my host parents from the very first day. And the daily challenges of living in a foreign place, like, the basics of life: finding places to eat, going to the post office, getting directions, buying things- all of these things require work when you don't speak the language, but I had enough to get by without too much effort.
This isn't bragging (really! it may seem like it, but I promise it's not.) It's actually the opposite- I feel like I've had it easier than a lot of my fellow stageaires who had to learn french here, so I have less to feel accomplished about. Like, I'm nowhere near as hard-core as them. I have a pretty cushy life. All of my challenges seem small and kind of lame, so I feel like I can't complain about anything.
So the french has helped my life immensely. I requested a french-speaking country to improve my language abilities (and also to feel like I had some skills to contribute to the Peace Corps,) and I think after teaching for two years I'll be pretty comfortable. But the french here is kind of awesome- there's an African accent, and the french "r" is nonexistent. It's almost a rolled r. And I decided to adopt it as quickly as possible. I think I may be able to get the frenchie one back someday, but I don't know if I want to. I want to speak fluent African french, then go to France and see the looks I get as a white girl with fluent french but this crazy accent. I think it'll be excellent.