Bad Couple of Days

Ever spilled boiling hot oil on your dog? I accomplished this feat day before yesterday. It’s those damn stoves they gave us. They’re so tilted, it’s not the first time I’ve spilled something on my stove. But this time…Yogi happened to be going through the garbage box under my new table and I was frying some potatoes and it happened so FAST – the pot tilted, I saw Yogi in it’s way, I grabbed for the pot, it spilled on him anyway, he SCREAMED, I finally got hold of the pot, put it on the ground (the only f-ing stable place in the whole house…lord how I miss stainless steel sinks…) and started to run after Yogi, looking for the most accessible water. Which happened to be in a full bucket, with no goblet. So I’m chasing Yogi, yelling for him to stay still, he’s SCREAMING, hauling a 20 liter bucket, trying to dump it on him at every possibility but pretty much only succeed in soaking my house. Eventually I hit him with the water a bit and he realizes it will make the pain subside and I get a goiblet and chase him with THAT (much easier) and manage to finally pour water over all of his burns. I feel like an ASSHOLE. I mean, I sure as shit didn’t do it on purpose, but he still blames me for it. His coat is still oily. I’m sort of waiting for the burns to heal a bit before I wash him with soap.

Insult to injury: melted my rubber spatula because in my haste I threw it on the ground in the pot which then melted it as I chased Yogi. So I’m writing home for another. I use it EVERY day.

But just like a dog, he doesn’t REALLY blame me. Or rather, I should say, he still loves me. Although he has been acting out of the ordinary, but not necessarily when it comes to me. Poor guy.

It hasn’t made him stop rummaging in the trash.

Today I discovered a tiny white bug infestation. By tiny I mean the individual bug. By infestation I mean it is EVERYWHERE, though you have to look close for it. I was so angry earlier. I thought it was coming from the flour in the cupboard, so I took all the food off the second shelf of the cupboard and all the dishes off the bottom shelf. Washed ALL the dishes. Someone on the road told me if all those dishes were just for me, I should share them with everyone else (Oumou Tokara). Then I washed all of the food items. It did not appear to make a difference. When I had let them dry for awhile I looked again and those FUCKING bugs were all over them again. I was so pissed by the time Alysun came around and told me tomorrow I should spray my house with the insect killer and he’d help me wash my clothes at the marigot (“They’re in your clothes now, too, you have to wash all of them”). I feel them crawling all over me. When I tried to make dinner because trying to clean up after them made me too late to go to dinner with my family, they were already all over my freshly washed utensils and dishes. I wanted to cry.

Tomorrow I am going to unleash an entire can of that insect killer on my house (it did a good job down the latrine) and go to the marigot and wash everything I can think of, plus Yogi, because I have to leave it be for like three hours before I can open the door again. I hope I murder them all.

And it just reinforces the need for Tupperware – SEND ME TUPPERWARE PEOPLE!!!!

In the end I think the bugs MIGHT be coming from the Parmesan cheese my mom sent. I mean it has been AWHILE since I opened it. And if that’s the case it means I’ve been eating forkfuls of them in my spaghetti and cheese for a week. Gross.

Mosque

So I had my first mosque experience today. It is the first Friday of the month of Kar’em or Ramadan and last night I told my “family” (closest thing I have to a family here but still not the same as the families of many volunteers ie: I do not live with them) that I would go to the prayer with them today and somebody yelled at me from the road: “Oumou! Allon prier!” I considered for about 2 minutes and then donned my African complet and went to their compound. There were a lot of people there doing their ablutions. I eventually awkwardly did mine with Caw Ousmane watching me and I know I didn’t do it right but maybe Allah thinks it’s the thought that counts?

Then Grandma told me I had to wear a bubu (apparently what I was wearing would not fly at Friday mosque) so I followed her into the bedroom and she gave me a bubu to change into so I did even with little Ibrahima in the room (he’s just a little kid and boobs don’t mean anything here plus I was wearing a bra). Bubus are freaking awesome. They are like wide-armed mumus. Quite comfortable. Then she gave me a big white prayer shawl (apparently she didn’t approve of the shawl I brought even though Fatoumata ended up wearing it to the prayer so I dunno). Anyway I looked like a real African lady walking into the mosque courtyard. We did not go into the actual mosque. I assume it was filled with men. There were a couple rows of men out in the courtyard, too, and the women were lined up behind them, all dressed exactly like me. So thank you grandma!!

It drizzled some and I cursed myself for having left my solar charger out in the latrine because I spent half of mosque just worrying about it getting too wet and breaking.

I think I almost have the prayer movements down but I still don’t know what they murmur during the prayer. Afterwards all kinds of people congratulated me for going to mosque. They all know I am not Muslim but I think they all want to try to convert me and even if they don’t, they appreciate my gesture to understand. I look at it like Teale said, “when else are you going to have an opportunity to live like a Muslim??” But she goes farther than me as she actually lives with a family and fasts with them. I am not fasting. At least not yet. I would do it if I lived with a family and had people to commiserate with. I think it would be hard. In fact I know it would.

Because when I go back over there at sundown and go over to the old lady’s house with the women we do the prayer WAY faster so that they can eat ASAP. So there is “gosi” which is rice with sugar, sour cow milk and apparently peanut butter. And “burie” which is fonio and sugar. And then “toh” which is a manioc mush (I can’t even think of something to compare it to in American cuisine – maybe kind of like a giant gnocchi) swimming in sauce (so far it’s been peanut sauce or boro boro sauce which is a dried leaf derived from what is basically a weed). I honestly don’t mind toh at all. I mean, yeah, rice is a bit better, but I really don’t mind it, especially when the sauce is good. Ian said the same thing. So for those of you possibly headed to West Africa, don’t stress the toh, man…it’ll be ok.

Also, don’t tell Traian, but I eat with my hands. I mean, I KNOW my right hand is clean because I scrub it with soap before I go over and THEY are all eating with their hands so even if I did do the spoon thing, the spoon isn’t any cleaner than my hand and it’s still gonna be eating out of the same bowl as the rest of the hands, so…there you go. Plus it tastes better when you eat it by hand, I’m telling ya.

But if you come visit me I’ll get you a spoon if it weirds you out .

Le Mois de Kar'em

So it’s Ramadan. It started when I was in Conakry over the weekend and when I got back to my village it was in full swing. In fact when I arrived about 8pm Monday night (threw out a leap of faith and went all the way to the gare in the city south of me once we got there from Conakry at about 6pm – which Ian forewent – and found a car going all the way to Ian’s village which could drop me off at mine and silently thanked God for the good luck). We stopped in the only sizeable village between the city and my village just as night had fallen so that people could eat. Not the passengers, really, because if you hadn’t brought food with you, you were SOL. I was just planning to eat when I got home so I was just like, “eat fast”. And then this old lady came running up to the car and asked if everyone who didn’t have food wanted to eat “toh”, which many volunteers describe as snot in slime sauce or something like that. I actually didn’t think it was so bad. The lady even brought me a spoon which I was grateful for because all day a small child had been coughing on my hand in the taxi and I was NOT about to eat with my hand but I had my second toh experience. I don’t mind it at all, really. I mean, it’s different from rice but I don’t think it’s bad at all.

The lady told me next time I come through that village I have to ask for her and she’ll feed me but the taxis never stop there, it’s a drive-through village, but if I ever have the chance I will look for her anyway.

So yesterday I was on my porch talking to Ousmane II about the state of my service in Guinea (it still amazes me the level of maturity and detail I can talk to Ousmane II about) and Caw Ousmane walked by and I told him he needed to invite me to pray and eat dinner with them during the “mois de Kar’em” and he said I could come that night but I already had plans for my dinner so I said I would come tomorrow at 7pm. So today I showed up freshly bathed, in an African complet, ready to go to mosque and eat with the family. Turns out I actually got treated like a WOMAN! Which means I did not get to go to mosque. Instead I navigated my way through a bunch of manioc with the other women to a house I had never seen (it was hidden) where I prayed on a mat with Aissatou and Fatoumatou and this other lady and then we gathered around a bowl of toh with peanut sauce and ate with our hands (I refused the spoon offered as I had recently washed my hands with soap). I am of the belief that “chose” with sauce tastes better when you eat it with your hands. Even though the Peace Corps Medical Unit does not recommend it. Hasn’t made me sick yet.

In fact I have been less sick in the time I have been eating street food and with my hands than I was when I was eating individually prepared plates with my host family during training. I assume my system has adapted.

Anyway after the toh we got the bowl of (shoot I forgot the name AGAIN but it is basically rice and sugar – Gosi), which I also enjoyed with my hand. As soon as we were done I just had time to thank the old lady who had hosted us before we went back to the compound and sat down for some attaya (meticulously brewed green tea). Then I said I had to go buy rice for Yogi at the Carrefour (since I can only buy rice at night now, no one’s there in the morning which means I sleep in until 9 or so). I asked if I could come for prayer and dinner with them every day for the month of Ramadan and they said “of course!”. Then Aissatou walked me home where I got my bowl (in America it would be a pot) and got Yogi rice with peanut sauce and meat – which I may have enjoyed if I wasn’t already stuffed from my evening Ramadan meal.

I wish I lived with a family because then I would fast with them for the month of Kar’em but since I don’t, I can at least impose on Aissatou’s family for prayer and dinner for the month. Still gonna sleep in as long as I want and have an instant oatmeal for breakfast but hey, I’m all alone here.

Pictures

Bromance:














Chicken Farm:














Nachos:




















Yogi:
















I was trying to take a picture of me and Yogi, he was not coooperating:














Yogi keeps petites at the gate:
















Joe's New Facebook Picture:


















Barack Obama - He Touched Everybody:


















In reality I work for National Geographic:


















Alpha:



















Nene:


















Ousmane II:


















Erich's Pants are SWEET:


















Happy Peace Corps Volunteers (Me, Erich, Corrina):














The girls I brought to girl's conference (Maimouna and Aissatou):




















Dance Party at Girls' Conference:















Peace Corps Volunteers are a bunch of thinkers:














I climbed this:

One More Early Night Should Do It

Turning in early for the third night. Started to feel almost normal before I got in bed and didn’t puke at all today so I might be good as new in the morning!

Tonight had another stroke of culinary genius and made skinless potato skins with the REAL cheese my dad sent (FYI Sargento colby jack cheese sticks make it without a problem and since they’re individually wrapped there’s no rush to get through a whole block before it molds). I skinned the potatoes because Traian told us to, even if you’re boiling or frying the potato, and I usually do what Traian says since he’s the doctor. Then I cut them in half and hollowed out the middles of each half. Fried them like french fries. When they were done I put slices of cheese in the middles, put them face down in a frying pan and heated it. Heated it a bit too long because I walked away from the stove to get my camera so the cheese REALLY melted and turned almost to liquid but still tasted fabulous. Only things that would have improved it were salsa and sour cream! Might try to do it again in Conakry where I’ll have salsa and sour cream…and bigger potatoes.

Anything’s possible when you put your mind to it.

Glad I should be back to health tomorrow as I have stuff to do around the house (it’s a wreck…happens when you don’t do any tidying for three days…and have a dog) and have to finish up the beds in the pepiniere with my counterpart (who I think knew I was still sick so didn’t even ask to go today). Going to Conakry Monday for the project review Tuesday-Friday. Then back for 2-3 weeks before I have to go BACK to Conakry for the VAC meeting. But that’s ok, because I don’t think I will have time to do any of my errands during the project review week.

The only thing that REALLY stinks is finding someone to watch my dog. It’s difficult when you don’t live in the same compound with a family, your reliable dog sitter moved away (Sous Prefet), your friends are in Conakry for the vacance, and 75% of the people in your community are afraid of dogs. Can’t wait for Ousmane to come back from Conakry. I’m going to turn him into my dog sitter. I find young guys are good dog sitters because they typically aren’t very afraid of the dog and they have their own sleeping huts so he can sleep inside with them. But that won’t be until after both of these Conakry trips so still have to figure it out. Wish me luck.

Medicament

One thing that drives me CRAZY about Guineans is their absolute love and dependence on medicine. ANY time I say I am sick, or I don’t feel well, or I have a cut or an infection, the first thing out of their mouth is, “well, have you taken the medicament?” I especially loathe this response when I have a cold. THERE IS NO CURE FOR THE COLD, FOLKS! I just tell them I am eating a lot of oranges to get Vitamin C. THAT’s the medicament for a cold.

It’s like at the first sign of illness they run off to the health center for medicine. Our Dr, Traian, makes us wait at least 3 days before we take anything. Because most of the time, it clears itself up after 3 days! We aren’t even allowed to take anything stronger than Pepto Bismol for diarrhea. Know why? BECAUSE YOU HAVE DIARHHEA FOR A REASON! Your body is trying to get rid of something so you need to LET IT get rid of it! If it can’t do it itself after 3 days, you get to take Ciproflaxcin (I think it’s an antibiotic) to help it out. But NEVER Immodium AD.

Guineans seem to have no concept of this. That things will get better on their own. It’s like when the Western World introduced medicine to Africa they jumped on it like free rice and insist on taking it for everything. Which is, frankly, irresponsible.

It’s like the malaria thing. Where EVERYTHING is malaria (though I have seen a few cases of Typhoid, too, which is encouraging). Like yesterday when I told my homologue I had been vomiting and am sick, he asked, “Is is malaria?” And then, “did you take the medicament?”

First of all, no, it’s not malaria. These aren’t even the symptoms of malaria. Secondly, you don’t just go taking medicines willy-nilly, especially ones your body/the disease can build up resistances to (like antibiotics).

But at the same time it’s dangerous to just tell them to let well enough alone. Because then maybe they’d go way too extreme on the other end of things and never go to the doctor. It’s frustrating.

Death

So yesterday I heard wailing and crying. If I hadn’t been so sick I would have wandered out to see what was going on. I was pretty sure somebody had died and then I saw members of my friend’s family walking by my house with mourners whose faces were covered with scarves.

Today my homologue came by and told me that it was Aissatou’s (one of the girls I took to girls’ conference) dad who had died, up in Guinea-Bissau. Her brother, Alpha, a good friend of the last volunteer, was there when it happened and sent word to someone in the big city south of us who brought the news here. Apparently the man had been sick for a couple of years so it was not completely unexpected, but still a sad event. Apparently Aissatou has gone au village for mourning. Tomorrow if I feel better I am going to go over and offer my condolences to the rest of the family. I feel bad that I didn’t go today but after my homologue left I was puking in my bucket again because I just can’t stand for very long. Or at all.

I’m supposed to go do the other beds of Gmelina at the pepiniere with my homologue tomorrow but I think I will ask if we can push it to Wednesday because even if I feel better it’s good to give it a buffer day, you know?

Also apparently the new Sous Prefet moved in yesterday. Haven’t met him yet. Too sick to go greet. Same as giving condolences, if I feel better tomorrow I will go do it.

October 15 is Global Day for Handwashing with Soap. The need for this? Unlike in the Western World, here in the Developing World people barely even wash their hands with water, let alone soap (fact made worse that their left hand is used for wiping after going to the bathroom). In fact I don’t even know if you can buy soap in my village (other than the dish/laundry soap)! If you can’t, that’ll be one of the goals, to get a boutique owner to start carrying soap. I am going to do events with the school and the health center. Any suggestions for specific activities? One thing I want to do is set up public hand washing stations at the two places (school and health center). I can also teach the “lave tes mains” song (which goes to the tune of “Frere Jaques”. I also had the idea of giving away bars of soap as prizes, but for what? I know I have a lot of creative friends out there, so send me any ideas you have.

Mail Run Has Been Good to Me

Well, I barely slept at all last night, scrunched up into a ball trying to make the pain in my abdomen go away. Then I spent the whole day feeling miserable and puking. I kept down the canned peaches I ate for breakfast (thanks again, Mrs. Figas!) and two fruit leathers (for awhile) but the lunch soup came back up. Then Daffe got here around 3 with the mail run and THINGS ARE LOOKING UP!

I received a book and a card from Megan (thanks Megan!!), and a package each from my mom/Bob and my dad/Marci. These packages might go into the package hall-of-fame. Indian food, cheese, soybean seeds, dehydrated jalapeno dices, CADBURY CRÈME EGGS (not even squished or melted or anything!), tuna steak pouches, Easy Mac Alfredo, other heat-and-eat meals (essential for when you’re sick), cute tank tops, I can go on! What a lift to my spirits it is to not only get packages but get AWESOME packages!

If I didn’t feel like crap I’d bust open a box of wine (which I sent to myself this mail run) and get creative at the stove. But, alas, I do feel like crap and don’t know if I even want to waste any of this fabulousness on a dinner that may end up in my puke bucket an hour later. Like my lunch did. Note to self, the Harmony House Chickenish Soup wasn’t that good going down and REALLY wasn’t good coming back up.

However, fruit leather? Not horrible .

I ended up going with one of the Easy Mac Alfredo cups for dinner. That stayed down. As did a Laffy Taffy and Crème Egg (couldn’t help it!).

Couple of notes: While there was no major destruction or mouse-attacks on either of these packages, would like to once again remind senders to put pretty much everything in ziploc bags. Not only does this ward off mice, and keep everything protected if something explodes, but I use the bags over and over again. The only damage done this time around was that my dad sent a bunch of loose hard candies and somewhere along the way they melted a bit and so everything is sticky. Didn’t ruin anything, though. Also, when sending tuna/salmon, stick with just the steaks in the Bumble Bee pouches, we can get canned tuna in Conakry (Starkist, even). Just a couple of tips to maximize your package’s potential!!

Blech

So I’m sick. Not,like, Africa-sick, the way many volunteers have managed, but all day I have felt lightheaded and like I want to hurl whenever I stand up. So I spent pretty much the whole day laying down and am turning in really early. Like, it’s 7:30 and my teeth are brushed.

I had my usual rice and sauce for breakfast and then an instant cup of vegetarian chili with a Laughing Cow triangle, a couple of Starbursts, a couple of quarter-sized cookies my Guinean friend sent me. I skipped dinner altogether. Didn’t have the energy to make it, nor did I think it would make me feel better.

Hopefully I’ll feel better tomorrow. Tomorrow is mail run day! I hope my mom’s package got here, I am on package withdrawal. It’d be cool to get a letter, too (HINT HINT). John should be back from the States so maybe he got me some stuff too and put it on the mail run. Or maybe he ended up coming home with the mail run in which case I’ll see him tomorrow. And Ian should be sending my bike back, if he made it back to his site last week. I got kind of worried because he left on Tuesday and on Thursday his friend Conte said he hadn’t seen him in Ian’s town. So I had an early morning freak-out session where I imagined Ian’s body on the side of the road but I know it is just paranoia and an overactive imagination and everything is fine. It will be proven when my bike gets here tomorrow. (UPDATE: Bike got here. Ian’s alive).

I have started writing. First thing I’ve started since I got here. As usual all I have are the beginning, the characters, the backstory and the setting. Now I need a plot. Plot has always been my struggle point. I’m really good with characters, dialogue and tone, but plot? Not my strong suit. It’s going to be a script but I’m going to do it the right way and beat sheet the whole thing out before I really sit down and hash it all out. Maybe my mom can send me one of my screenwriting books for guidance.

It’s funny, because for most of my life I have written a LOT. I used to write (basically, romance) novels in high school. Scripts in college. Short stories always. Poetry when the mood strikes. But for the eight months since I’ve been in Guinea, journals only. It will be good to exercise my brain in that way again.

Culinary Genius

So sometimes I fancy myself a bit of a culinary genius at site, considering the lack of ingredients, refrigerators and spices. My staple meal is either potatoes or eggs with: onion, avocado, Laughing Cow cheese and piment sauce. But sometimes I manage to eat rather well.

For example today I wasn’t very hungry for dinner but not not-hungry enough not to eat anything. I HAD been planning to enjoy my single yellow summer squash freshly picked from my garden, sauteed with onion and garlic but when I chopped it open it had worms inside it. And I had already chopped up the garlic and onion, which were already sitting in oil. Sigh. So I raided my non-perishable trunk and found a little packet of instant tomato-basil soup (hey! Send me individual instant soup packets, people!) that I had gotten when I was in Dakar. It expired in March, but since when has a little thing like an expiration date stopped a West African Peace Corps volunteer? (answer: probably never) So I enjoyed that (it was delightful, actually) followed by an entire mango. Quite a satisfying dinner and very simple.

Other achievements:
Spaghetti parmesan with peas – my mom had sent me a big canister of parmesan cheese (does not need refrigerating) which I had been waffling about what to do with when one day I had a stroke of genius and made spaghetti boiled with some dehydrated peas I had brought from the States. This I covered in parmesan cheese. For the sauce I sauteed onions in a little extra peanut oil and poured the whole mixture on top. It was REALLY good. I enjoyed this concoction for about 2 weeks until I ran out of spaghetti. I still have a little bit of peas and quite a bit of the cheese so I am sure I will enjoy it again sometime soon. And when the peas run out, replace them with green beans (also dehydrated).

Tacos, especially breakfast tacos – It is shockingly easy to make tortillas (although they are not as big or as thin as I would like so basically they resemble corn tortillas but are made of flour). Speaking of tortillas I tried to make chips the other day by frying tortillas in oil and while it’s not too bad it makes a better dessert, lightly fried and then dusted in cinnamon and sugar. Anyway, tacos. Basically once you’ve made the tortillas you can put scrambled eggs with sauteed onions, Laughing Cow, avocado and hot sauce. If you’re real frisky you can cook up some beans to throw in there, too (I have dehydrated beans from the States which makes having beans SUPER easy). Or if you are lucky at market, tomatoes.

Potato skins and an improved version:

I got cheese in a package and went for bar food.







Fairly American Meal:

Green beans, potatoes, tuna fish steak. Life is good.

I picked my huge cucumber today so tomorrow I have to figure out what to do with it. Maybe I will just make a potato-cucumber salad (boiled potatoes, cubed; diced cucumber and onions in a mayonnaise-oil-vinegar sauce…with a Maggi cube). I also have more mature beans to pick so I may boil those up for a snack tomorrow, too.

I am really sad about the summer squash thing, though. Tough break.

Twilight

So I just read the first Twilight book. I already saw the movie, I think several times, because when it got to country people played it nearly nonstop in the Conakry house TV room as there was always somebody who hadn’t seen it yet.

Book WAY better than movie. In some ways. Like, the book was WAY sexier than the movie. The movie had that ONE kiss and the book has a half dozen or so. And other, sexy, mouth-against-throat sort of moments. Stuff that could be REALLY hot on screen (and still, I believe, PG-13). So I was a bit confused about why the screenwriter (or maybe director) chose not to make the script as sexy.

Also, in the book I find Bella a bit more needy and/or annoying than I did in the movie. In the movie she seemed strong, self-assured, independent. In the book she seems…juvenile. Also Robert Pattinson, who plays Edward, maybe not QUITE as Adonis as the book leads you to believe he will be but the actress that plays Bella, Kristen Stewart, has this strange smoldering sexuality about her that I first noticed from her 15 minutes in Into the Wild. Great casting on THAT front. If I had read the book before seeing the movie I wouldn’t have pictured Bella the way Kristen Stewart plays her but I am glad that I have that to go on in my mind’s eye now because it makes Bella a bit more tolerable.

Anyway. Directly after finishing Twilight, the book, I am all crazy and romantic and thinking about every relationship I’ve had and how NOT Edward all those guys are and how someday I’ll find my Edward and it will be freaking FANTASTIC (if less obsessive…the book is REALLY obsessive…maybe because she’s 17). And then the next book I crack open? “Dave Barry’s Complete Guide to Guys”. I’m an idiot. I was hoping to get a laugh. Now I’m just depressed. “There is no horse.” I got about an hour to think that someday there might be something amazing in life and now I’m back to the old, pessimistic, “dudes are dudes and they’re idiots and self-absorbed and unperceptive and are NEVER going to sweep you off your feet because not only are they too fucking LAZY, but it would never occur to them, because they don’t FEEL the way that women do.”

And I just want a milkshake.

Water Woes Wasted

Hey I think it was my Dad’s birthday yesterday. Happy Birthday, Dad!

Well, in some strange twist of fate, the pump at the mosque has been completed almost exactly on time! I couldn’t believe it. When I heard a couple of months ago that it was going to be finished July 31 I got my hopes up but quickly pushed them down because nothing EVER gets finished when people say it will in Guinea. But sure enough, someone came by my house a couple of days ago and said the pump is working! And people keep walking by my house with water on their heads so I know it must be true!

This gets me really excited. Because I don’t have to worry about water anymore! That was pretty much my biggest problem before it started raining all the time but now I won’t have to worry and I can have a dry season garden! Yay! I have already started trying to decide what I will plant. I will also need to make an enclosure just for the garden because cows keep jumping my fence. So I think I will plant: sunflowers, tomatoes, beans, zucchini, cucumber, soy and hot peppers (hey somebody send me jalapeno seeds I hear they grow well here!). I might try for bell peppers again, too. Will have to buy a couple in Conakry and make sure I properly dry and store the seeds this time.

Yippee!!

In other news, Ian made the mistake of foregoing John’s site (because John wasn’t there) and continuing to my site day before yesterday on his way back from Conakry. He spent all day trying to get a taxi out of here yesterday and it never happened (most taxis and all the trucks were going to the other village North of here whose market day it was). Yep, le transport est dificil ici (the transport is difficult here). Instead of waiting around again today he asked to borrow my bike, strapped all his stuff on the back and took off. When people in my village realized he was going to bike all the way to his village possibly in the rain their mouths dropped and they let out the infamous African “Heeeeeeey?” He is sending my bike back to me on the mail run Monday and then I am going to send it to Conakry and have them replace some of the gears whose teeth are worn down and don’t work. Hope he made it!

Then I had a rather productive day. I cleaned my water filter which I almost never do and certainly not the recommended every week (don’t tell Sue!). I also washed all my bandanas and hand/kitchen towels (tomorrow: underwear!). Then I made tortillas and fried them to make chips which I tried to eat with this cup of nacho cheese sauce I had but it was awful so I just ate the chips instead. Then I was sitting on my porch making organic fertilizer out of leaves again (yesterday at the carrefour as we were eating keke for dinner this kid was chopping branches off a gliricidia tree in front of his boutique so I asked if I could have them) when Ousmane II came over with his friend from Conakry and they started to help me and then the dude who took me on the epic expedition to the banana trees also stopped to help. I explained to them (as I have to Ousmane II before) that the leaves of this tree are a really good fertilizer and you can use it instead of chemical fertilizer more often and for longer (indefinitely, really, whereas chemical fertilizer gives diminishing returns after a couple of years and ultimately is bad for the soil, water and environment in general). I don’t think they believe me. They talk about it in Pular and I can understand them saying “leaves” and “fertilizer” and then laughing like I am some small child who they are just humoring. They don’t believe me when I tell them the tree is called “gliricidia”, not “cassia”, heck my HOMOLOGUE barely believes me when I tell him that and only sort of started to believe me when Abdoul was here and was like “yep, that’s gliricidia. It’s good for fertilizer.” Anyway while they don’t believe me at least they know how to do it and maybe one day someone will be really desperate for fertilizer and not have the money for chemicals and just say “what the hell? Might as well try it! Maybe that crazy white lady was on to something!” Maybe.

It’s a nice thought.

Green Beans

You know what are awesome? Green beans. Also, potable water.

So all the beans in my garden look the same. One started to rot so I picked them all. There were about 10-15 of them. I boiled them. Then I put salt on them and ate them. There appear to be at least two different kinds. One has a tougher pod and bigger beans and the other is like a green bean. I planted green beans, scarlet runner, and bush beans, that I can remember.

GREEN BEANS ARE AWESOME! I wished I had more. I don’t think I’ve had that much protein or that many vitamins in weeks. My body is still tingling!

Speaking of my garden, while I was gone at girls conference cows got into my yard. They ate all my corn. Even my sweet corn. I am kind of sad about this. They trampled some of my hot peppers. However they did not eat my hot peppers, sunflowers, tomatoes, zucchini, squash or beans. Just the corn. And I have a HUGE cucumber out there and a good sized yellow summer squash. I did not harvest them today because I don’t know when I will eat them yet.

I am thinking I will harvest the summer squash tomorrow and saute it with onions and garlic and enjoy it with my last remaining Bumble Bee Salmon Steak pouch (send me fish, people!! I got this one from Kate!) and maybe boil a couple of potatoes too. That’s a nice American meal. I was able to get potatoes really cheap in Mamou! The only thing that stinks is transporting them. I gave some of them to Ousmane Iis family because they watched Yogi all week while I was gone.

I (well, Corinna) also bought a whole crate of eggs (30) from the chicken farm by ENATEF in Mamou. It cost 20 mille or 4 dollars. So I now have a crate to bring eggs back and forth with. And 30 eggs to eat. Although one broke in transport and one Yogi just pulled out the crate and broke it so he got to eat it (I have now put the crate out of his reach). I figure they will last maybe 2 weeks or so before I eat them all. Did you know that from the time an egg comes out of the chicken, it’s good for 2 months (non-refrigerated) if you don’t get it wet? You can test this by putting your egg in a cup of water. If it sinks, eat it, if it floats, don’t eat it. However, don’t test all your eggs right when you get them cause if you get them wet you have to eat them the next day. I am going through these eggs so fast that I think I will start buying 2 crates at a time…60 eggs, 3-4 weeks? Is that bad for your health?

So on to potable water. Since all of our pumps are broken, I have started drinking rain water. Les Stroud drinks rain water straight on Survivorman so I figure I should be good, right? Well, here is the system: when it rains, catch water in buckets from streams coming off the corrugated tin roof:














Pour water into bidons using a funnel made out of a plastic bottle top, filtered through a bandana (this removes a lot of sediment):


















Put twice the amount of Sur-Eau (basically bleach) in it than is recommended:

















Let sit at least 30 minutes. Put recommended amount of bleach in top of Peace Corps-issued water filter:

















Fill with water:














Wait 30 minutes. Drink. So far it’s been fine. I figure it can’t be worse than river water, right (and that’s basically my only other option). Water filters are awesome. It’s no wonder people here are sick all the time when they don’t have pumps, let alone filters.

The idea of sticking a glass under a tap and drinking the water that comes out baffles my mind at this point.

Night before last I called John in LA on the phone because I was having a mental breakdown and needed to hear voices from the States even if I could only afford 2 minutes. When he answered, he said, “hold on I have to put my Bluetooth in”. I about died. I mean, I’m worrying about finding water to drink and bleaching my apples (which can only be found in Mamou and Conakry). What kind of riot would a Bluetooth wireless piece cause in Africa?

Then I called Leggett and talked to him for two minutes but at this point was out in the hangar and all the girls were standing in a circle, singing and clapping and dancing so I couldn’t hear him too well and I just said, “can you hear them singing?” For some reason I was biting back tears a little bit, I think because from the awkwardness between the girls on the first day of the conference for it to now be them all singing Guinean songs and dancing in a group as though they had known each other forever was inspiring. When I hung up with Leggett I went and joined the dancing. They push you in the middle and watch you dance semi-awkwardly as they sing songs and replace names with your name. I think almost all the volunteers ended up out there at some point and every time a new volunteer would show up, they’d be shoved in the middle and all the girls would cheer.

Life is different here.