Ne y windiga (that's Mooré for "Good day") from Burkina Faso! I am writing from the city of Ouahigouya - pronounced "WHY-ee-GOO-ya" - in the northern part of the country. Apologies for the extended period of silence, but Blogger does not seem to work too well over here; I tried posting 3 times in the past couple weeks, to no avail. On top of that, all of the keyboards here are in French, which makes typing even the simplest sentences quite a challenge, as all the letters and symbols are in the wrong places. Needless to say I am psyched to finally be able to send out a message from in-country.
At the moment, in addition to participating in classes for cross-cultural orientation, I am brushing up on my French in the most effective way possible (by speaking it non-stop), and I'm learning 2 additional languages, Mooré and Gulimancema. I have also been "adopted" by a host family in Bogoya, a village a few kilometers outside of Ouahigouya, where I sleep and eat most of my meals. Unless it is raining or there is a dust storm, I sleep outside (with a mosquito net, to protect me from malaria infection), because otherwise I literally marinate in my sheets from the heat. Also, since my consitution is not as strong as that of the locals (or, in Peace Corps jargon, "host country nationals"), I have to filter all my water, and then add a couple drops of bleach to every liter, before drinking it. I also have to be extremely careful about what I eat, in case of bacteria or parasites... so absolutely NO salads while I'm here, and all my food has to be thoroughly cooked. Already a couple of my fellow trainees have been laid low by stomach viruses and diarrhea -- here, apparently, it pays to be paranoid. However, let it be known that my hosts are incredibly friendly and attentive, and do whatever they can to make me more comfortable. I've also had many interesting conversations (in my broken French) with Bob - my self-appointed guardian in the village - about why I'm here exactly, the differences between life in Burkina and America, and what kind of music we love (he's a reggae fanatic, while my personal favorite is oldies rock 'n' roll).
The culture here is VERY different from that of the States: collectivism is the rule, as opposed to that famous American individualism. It is imperative to greet (or "saluer") absolutely everyone you pass, and that means more than merely saying hello; in greeting a perfect stranger, you must inquire how they're doing, how their health is, how their family's health is, respond in kind, then wish them well until the next time you both meet. Anything less than this is considered the height of rudeness. Anyone who has ever lived in New York City can imagine what a change THIS little custom is for me.
Now, I will not pretend that the past couple weeks of transition haven't been difficult; until now, I could not remember the last time I was homesick -- but the culture shock hit me hard when I arrived. On my 7th day here, I was honestly asking myself how I was going to last through the summer, much less 2 years. Things are better now, but I'm trying not to think about the big picture for the moment. Right now the goal is to stick it out through the completion of training, at the end of August. If I'm still doing okay then, I'll see how I do until Thanksgiving, and so on. A Volunteer who has been in-country for 10 months told me that's how a lot of people in her group handle it; they love their experiences and their work over here, but it's easier to get a handle on things if they take it step by step.
There you have it, Dear Readers: a rather lengthy post from yours truly, to make up for all the time I've been away from cyberspace. I promise to write again the very next moment possible, and I would of course love to hear from absolutely anyone back home in the States.
16 years ago
