schooooool's out! for! summer!

[Alright MOM, I'll write an update. Although, you know, while I rarely have internet access I almost always have phone access....]

The school year finally ended, after a bonus week of striking just in time to destroy my testing schedule. I don't think I've written about the striking situation that's been going on since... February? There was an entire month without school, then a couple more weeks of strikes close to the end of the third trimester of this year. It wasn't pretty, but we did manage to finish out the school year. All the disturbances had an impact on the national exams- this year's success rate was pretty low. My school's passing rate was something like 35%, which, although pretty normal for rural Burkina, isn't too hot. The typical response of adults in village is "It's the kids' fault, they never study." Although this may be true in some cases, I might venture to say that the MONTH AND A HALF OF STRIKING might also have something to do with it.

One of the lycee kids, Abasse, who has kind of adopted me as his "tantie" (aunt), took the exam this year and totally got a kick out of coming to my house, acting super sad, and telling me that he failed, when actually- fake out!- he passed. After I consoled him by being sympathetic and saying "ca va aller" many times, he relented and told me the truth. Jerk. A few of my favorite students from last year came by to tell me they passed, but there were a lot who didn't get it this year. (There are still options for those who failed- they can retake the school year and try again next year, either at our school or at the bigger school in town or another one elsewhere. If their parents will pay.)

There's still the BAC coming up in a week or so- based on the French system, it's the exam to pass high school/get into university. The amount of studying kids (or adults) put into studying for this exam is unbelievable. There are students who just sleep at the high school now, because they study so late into the night.

As for my summer, I've been in and out of site a lot. There's nothing going on in village, so I've been doing a lot of workshops and trainings in Ouaga and elsewhere. This past month I did a TEFL training (in case I teach english next year), a workshop on how to help run a reading camp a friend's NGO is doing in August, and am now here for a GAD meeting (abbreviations!) It's keeping me busy, but I'm pretty sick of bush taxis at this point.

(The last time, I was basically curled up in my seat because of the rice sacks and chickens under me, the seat was a covered plank of wood, the lady next to me was sleeping on me, as was her baby, I couldn't drown out the Burkinabe rap music with my headphones, and there was a pervasive smell of butchered meat coming from the seat behind me. And the shocking part was that I didn't realize that it was a particularly bad bush taxi experience until I got to Ouaga and realized that my clothes still smelled like goat meat.)

I'm using a friend's computer, having left my power cable in village, so I'll end here. Look out for more updates, with anecdotes on teaching and consolidation parties!

sandtastic

Remember this?

The cattle market, plus the man at the market selling "medicaments"?

Fada is pretty much just the coolest place ever (when it's not being blocked by tanks.) I went again with a couple of good friends who are leaving soon, and the aim of our trip was to have our futures told by a sand reader. It's very traditional, and still popular- apparently many African leaders in the area use it to make important decisions (doesn't that make you feel optimistic? But hey, we did it too....)

We biked over to the sand reader's house in the early evening. He wasn't there yet, so we hung out with his family as the cows and sheep came home and the kids took their baths. Finally when it was dark out the sand reader came home. While the rest of the family watched TV on a small set they brought out in the courtyard, we went over and sat on a mat on the sand. He sat next to the mat and had us take turns asking questions and having our futures read.

One of us would come forward and put our hand on the sand. Then he would draw patterns and lines in the sand, and would interpret what the sand was saying about us. Colette was told that wherever she worked (boutique, auto repair...) she had to be the boss; Bovard was told to sacrifice a medium, white, four-legged sheep; and I was told that I will marry an older man, but I'll only find love if my father prays for a husband for me. (Get on that, would you Dad?)

Overall, I mainly just felt it was one of those cool experiences you should take advantage of when available. It was dark, the courtyard was quiet, the sand reader's cute family was hanging out, and the process of drawing in the sand and interpreting it was super soothing and pleasant. And then we all got to go out, eat fried chicken and analyze everything he'd said.

surprise!

Welp, guess what I decided! If you're a member of my family, I'm sure my parents have already shared the terrible news: I'm staying a third year. I don't know that it's much of a surprise- I've been thinking about it since I started applying to the Peace Corps, honestly. I just wasn't sure in what capacity I'd want to stay. I could stay in my village, doing the same thing for another school year, I could work with an NGO in a larger city, I could transfer to another country and use my teaching experience in a new setting... so many options! And what I decided on is not at all what I initially expected, but I'm sooo excited about it.

I had been planning to work at the teacher's college, teaching sessions about how to include Life Skills in the classroom. But then I realized what I've been learning for two years: teachers stress me out. I have teacher friends, and a lot of them are lovely, welcoming, helpful people. Others, however, are extremely frustrating, and the functionnaire (government employee) complex of hating living in a village and not being friends with villagers can get very oppressive. It's a weird community, and while my job idea was theoretically good, the practical aspect of working entirely with functionnaires would have been... awful.

So then I thought about what I like about being here. I enjoy teaching, and I love my students. I've also been realizing how limiting it is not to speak local language very well. I want to be friends with little old ladies who don't speak french, but the language barrier keeps me from forming real friendships with them. I haven't needed to speak Moore to be a good teacher or to do side projects, so I haven't had the impetus to learn it well, but I want to.

Here's my plan. I'm going to move to a small village to teach in a newly opened school. The school is smaller, hopefully with smaller class sizes, and I'll be able to teach almost any subject they need me to teach- math, physics, chemistry, biology, or english (and they definitely need teachers- there are zero physics/chemistry teachers right now, and only one math/biology teacher.) The village speaks Moore, which I already know a little, and I'll spend the next five months studying it so I can integrate quickly. I want to live in a courtyard with a family, without electricity (who'd have thought, right? I love my fan!)

I'm really happy with this decision for a few other reasons as well. PC Burkina was going to get 33 new education volunteers this summer, but it's been cut down to 22 so there aren't going to be enough to fill the planned sites. I already have a lot of experience in teaching and I feel like I understand life here pretty well now, so I think I'll have a very effective third year and can make a significant impact in a small village. And lastly, as cheesy as this sounds, I know that I'll regret it if I leave now. I just... like it here. I don't want to leave yet. It's a perfect opportunity, and I'll never have another time in my life when it's this simple to spend another year in Africa. Instead of going home and bumming around for a year while I apply to graduate schools, I can do it here! More adventures! A gogo!


I'll get a month's paid (ha) leave in America, which I'll probably take over Christmas, so I'll be able to visit people then. I also promised my mother I'd get a phone with internet if I stayed a third year, so I should have regular access to email and facebook and Suzanne's blog (seriously, what else is there? Not even kidding.) Plus, this just gives all of you an extra year to come and visit me!! I promise you a real village experience.

fa-daa!

(Sorry, I could only get one picture to load... good one though, right?)


A couple of weeks ago I went up to Fada N'Gourma with a whole group of other volunteers. Fada is a pretty chill city in the east of the country. We went up to do a "chicken crawl," which was like a pub crawl but with fried chicken. I repeat: fried chicken. This is not a common thing in Burkina- the fanciest we usually get here is grilled, more often boiled (most often we just get dried fish or boiled goat meat.) But Fada is full of geniuses who realize the magic of frying, so we went and ate a whole lot of deliciousness.

While I was there my friend Ebben took me to the cattle market- the largest cattle market in West Africa, I believe. I'm going to try to get back up there during the rainy season- apparently the market is packed with cattle at that time of the year. Also, you can get your fortune read in the sand, but turns out the sand reader can't live just off of tourists so he was busy working at his real job to do it this time. So I'll definitely need to go back for that.

While there we also stumbled across a snake charmer and a dude selling "medicaments" (medicines.) His wares included: alligator skull and skin, bird heads, ostrich feet, dried hedgehogs, cow feet, snake skin, and so much more! My personal favorite was the basket of dried chameleons. Only a dollar apiece: what a steal! I bought one so the dude would let me take pictures. He wouldn't tell me what the chameleon did, per se, just that it wasn't mal and it was "medicament." I'll give you fifty dollars to eat it and find out.

mise a jour

Now, for a brief update.

Schoolwise we have a little bit of an unexpected vacation right now, so I'm profiting by spending an extra day in Tenkodogo. I never get to hang out here really- I'm always just passing through- so as soon as I leave the cyber cafe I'm planning to do some intense marche shopping. I need blonde weave (gotta get my hair did) and new shoes. Then, tomorrow, back to village to start painting my World Map on an outside wall of the high school! That's... going to take a while. I'll keep you updated, but it's not sure that it'll be done before April.

Whenever school starts up again, I'll be able to finish doing my school-wide sex-ed sessions that I mentioned last time. I started with the youngest girls (6th/7th grade) and the oldest boys (9th/10th grade), the latter with help from a couple of male teachers. Good thing, too, because those boys... oof. Some things are universal, and one of those things happens to be teenage boys. Not something a young, single, limited-french-speaking american girl can exactly handle on her own, as I have learned through doing World AIDS Day lessons with these hooligans (I also learned that mixed groups are a DISASTER, which is why these are totally separate.) The girls, on the other hand, were shy and cute and amazed by everything I told them. Periods? They had no clue. And when I finally got them asking questions, they had plenty. I'm excited to work with the older girls, and to scare the rest of the boys with pictures of STDs.

I should also mention the ambulance project. It's still not done yet, unfortunately- there are some more hoops the Ouaga office is going to make me jump through, including meeting with the community and writing a completely new budget. But hopefully once I fulfill all these new requirements I'll get approval right away, and once I do I'll start pleading for help from friends and family.

The end! I probably won't have internet again until the last few days of March when I go into Ouaga for our "close of service conference." We don't actually finish our service until August, but this is a preliminary attempt on the Peace Corps' part to get us ready for life outside of Burkina, where there are such things as working hours and resumes. Yeah, good luck with that, guys.

girl talk

Okay, yes, I bribe girls with nail polish and fashion magazines
Then I teach them how to use my camera
And let them use my mirror to primp
And take their pictures.

So yes, I may be reinforcing certain gender sterotypes, bribing girls, and luring them in by letting them play with my stuff, but I'm pretty okay with that. It means they like coming to my house, they have stuff to do so we end up having fun conversations, and when I do life skills activities with them they listen and participate. And they bring their school notebooks so after we have our club I help them with their homework. I might not have the most organized, intentional girls' club in Burkina (which makes me a little insecure sometimes) but we have fun, and I love it.


Burkina flag fingernails!

joy of travelling

This bus company is called KGB. It uses yellow Bluebird schoolbuses and its logo is this alligator, with wheels. I dunno, all that put together just makes me so happy every time I think about it.

And this is how they load buses here- there's a rack on top where they tie motos, as well as bikes, bags of rice, and goats. Here is a goat being put on top. As you might imagine, he was less than thrilled about it.