I guess
I’ll start this post off with the most obvious of questions. When you come to
Africa, what do you expect to see? Lions? Elephants? Giraffes? Maybe a Hippo or
two? Too bad. How about Camel Spiders and Scorpions. These are more common
where I am, so if you want to see those other ones, you are looking in the
wrong place my friends. The other night it’s about 8:30 PM and I’m getting
ready to climb into bed. My counterpart, Pima, says, “David, come out here.”
I’m thinking oh boy, another scorpion (which I have seen plenty of since
arriving at site). When he asks me, “Do you know what this is?” I knew it could
only be one thing. The most dreaded animal shared by all Burkina volunteers,
though not the most dangerous (that would probably go to that Black Widow I
found in my room a while back, some crazy snake I am yet to see, or even the
itty bitty scorpions that won’t kill you, but will definitely teach you a
lesson). My fears were confirmed when I saw this evil, brown, enormous spider. I knew it was not full
grown, because I’ve seen pictures on the Google machine of how big they can
get; but I was staring into the eyes of a Camel Spider. I do not know how much
you know about this animal, probably nothing if I had to guess. It can run up
to 10 MPH, can grow to be bigger than your hand (not you Shaq), the US military
is permitted to use live rounds on them, they are attracted to light, and oh, if you piss them off, they come
straight for you, fangs bearing. They are not poisonous, but leave a mean mark.
Check it on Google images. They are not something you want to be bit by… so
naturally this crazy old lady just smashes the thing with her bare hand. Nuts I
tell you. They laugh as I jump around in my boxers trying to avoid certain
death, and this old lady just smashes the thing like it’s a cricket.
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Camel spider, probably not the smartest idea I've had... |
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Scorpions are cool, but if they can avoid my feet, that'd be great.
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Enormous centipede! |
Naturally
that night I went to sleep terrified of what was sleeping near me, or with me.
I had recently set up my mosquito net, finally, as my friend Kelly was coming
to visit for a weekend and I didn’t want her to have to lug her bug hut with
her. What I learned is sleeping in a bug hut gives you a sense of security. It
zips all the way up, and you are enclosed on all sides. Sleeping under a
mosquito net? …Not so much. Sure you can tuck in the sides under your
therm-a-rest, but as you move throughout the night, the net does too, and
really, unless you have a mattress to tuck it under, you are out of luck. Of
course my fears were confirmed the next morning when I woke staring at some
animal (I couldn’t tell with sleep still in my eyes) on top of my net. It ended
up being the biggest damn centipede I’ve ever seen. This was about a week after
I found my first scorpion inside my house. I have seen them on the exterior,
sure, but when one is inches away from being on top of your foot, it really
changes things. I don’t know what’s going on, maybe it’s the heat, which I will
get to, or they can smell the water in my house. I don’t know honestly, but
whatever it is, I hate it. At least I can say I am experiencing some wildlife,
though it is definitely not the kind I wanted to see!
So this
morning I wake up a bit early. Pima told me today was a sacrifice day… whatever
that means. We had to go to one of his brothers’ house to watch it. So at about
8 AM we left. We arrived just in time to watch a small chicken get slaughtered.
I’ve killed quite a few since I’ve been here, but something about watching six
in a row made my stomach turn a little bit. They said it was a sacrifice to
their great-great-great-great (I don’t know how long this goes on) grandfather.
It is a Guaransi tradition, and it was interesting to see something that has
probably gone on for a very, very long time. There was a cage that was part of
what I could only describe as an altar that had parts of many different dead
animals. There were skulls of crocodiles, a turtle shell, snakeskin, a bush cow
(whatever that means), and bush cats that looked like little leopards. The bush
cats had their heads and arms cut off and were hallowed out. Inside, they
placed some native medicine that I can almost guarantee does nothing. There
were calabashes (squash they let grow far too large to eat on purpose; they get
hard, you hollow them, and use them as bowls) with plucked feathers atop them.
These were from each chicken pre-kill. They then slit the chicken’s throat, and
spilled its blood along the tops. It was a little bizarre, but it is supposed
to give the family health and longevity. They also force-fed me Dolo. I drank
like a liter of booze before 9 AM. I’ll make it clear I had no interest in it,
but when there is a ceremony like that going on, you really don’t have much of
a choice. When they say drink, you drink.
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Pirate David with some slaughtered animals and what not |
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Blood and feathers of the chickens! |
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You are looking at a chicken being killed. Enjoy. |
Other than
these interesting experiences, it’s been a very up and down week. It’s
certainly been my most productive week, but there have been times when I’ve
wanted to jump headfirst into a wall. Other times I’ve wanted to gather the
community and scream at them non-stop at the top of my lungs… I’ll get to that.
I work with
two communities as of right now, and a school from another. BouldiƩ is
where I live, and Yamadio is my second community, around ten kilometers north
of my house on the road to Yako. Kwen is where the school is. It is located
around 8 km north, but on the road to Toma. The Yamadio community seems more
motivated and organized than BouldiƩ, and as of right now, I enjoy working
with them far more. On Tuesday, I travelled to Kwen for the first time. I was
meeting with one of the teachers I’d met in Didyr, and wanted to meet the other
teachers as well. It’s also good to just know your satellite villages in case
somebody has a question for me or wants to work with me. I arrived right before
the students get back in from their lunch break. It should be noted that in
much of Africa, the day goes from 9-12, has a three-hour break, and resumes
from 3-5 PM. The kids follow that as well as the teachers. I sat outside with
the teachers just chatting until about 3:45… which I found curious as the
students were waiting in the classrooms by 3:10. Anyways, I then went in and
gave a little informal lesson about the importance of education. I talked to
each class for about ten minutes and asked questions about America and the
president and what not. It was amazing how there were kids wearing shirts with
Obama’s face on them, and they had no idea who he was. Other kids knew the
name, but they did not know he was black, or African. While none of those
children could ever be president of the US (not exactly legal), it was still an
astonishing fact for them and they were all grinning during my impromptu
lesson. It was pretty cool just to feel like I actually did something in
general. I have not done a lot in my five months in this country, so even a
little thing like that was awesome.
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Soap finished and being bottled |
The next
day I biked on over to Yamadio and helped them make liquid soap for the first
time. This had been a while coming, so it was good to actually get it done.
Stupidly, on the windiest day I have experienced here, we decided that doing
this underneath a tree was a good idea. It’s so unbelievably hot all of the
time that it is just unrealistic to stay inside. There was a ton of dust and
leaves that got into my bucket o’ soap, but we plucked it out and it ended up
being all right. I left there and headed into Didyr to get a coke (that’s
right, not a beer!) before I went back. I also wanted to get some
sachets (bags) of water. This is where
my frustration kicked in. I searched every single store that has a refrigerator/freezer/thing
that keeps stuff cold, and not one place had water. Every place has beer,
usually two, three, or four different types. Not one of them had water. So I
searched the stores that do not have cold stuff but usually have water.
Nothing. I was severely parched. I found out it was 113F that day, and I didn’t
have anything to drink. The end of the water that I did have after arriving
back in Didyr was almost at the bubbling point. The Nalgene seems to heat the
water, but I drank it anyways. I wanted to yell at every vendor that had
liquid. It was the most irrational thing I’ve ever experienced. Instead, I went
home and felt mixed about whether to be happy about the day or annoyed.
The next
day I biked back to Yamadio to add the colorant (we chose pink) and the perfume
to the soap. It actually came out really well. We managed to get fourteen
bottles from a half of a kilo of tansigex, which is pretty good. What was even
better was the community liked them so much; all fourteen were sold within fifteen
minutes. They never even made it to the market. Small things like this make you
feel a lot better about yourself here. Now the community knows how to make it
and made enough money to buy the materials themselves. Bam! Sustainability! When
I got back to Didyr I searched again for water, hoping for the best, and
shocker, no dice. Again a great day was marred by horrid dehydration. But at
least I got something done.
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Bottled and ready for sale! |
This brings me to my next point. It is so unbelievably hot
in this country! It is just getting hotter and we’ve already had days over 110°F.
When you look at Ouagadougou on weather websites, the temperature hovers at
around 106°F everyday, but it is just increasing rapidly! Also, my site
is above Koudougou, which is above Ouaga. It is hotter where I live than it is
down yonder. I think I’m slowly melting. But I will live…maybe. I need to buy a
thermometer so I can take a picture when it is above 130°F; that’ll be cool (get it?
cool?). I’m funny.
Now I am spending this week in Ouagadougou, and then next week in Koudougou for in-service training. It’ll be nice to learn some things I can actually do at site, like tofu production and applying for grants. It is also a lot of fun hanging out with the other volunteers. It’s nice to know other people have been having some struggles as well, Two weeks with all of these people is definitely dangerous for my wallet though! After the week in Koudougou I will go back to site for a week and then come back to Ouagadougou for the G24 CoS party which should be a hoot! I am in G27 (Group 27) and CoS stands for Close-of-Service. They do not leave for five months, but you always do your CoS conference quite a bit before leaving. It’ll be a good weekend I’m sure! More later. You stay classy, America.
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One of the perks of living in a former French colony! |
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