Vacances

After spending a week in Guinea, my parents and I went to Morocco, for a more..."normal" vacation. My dad says that if you want a luxury vacation, spend a week in Guinea and then go anywhere else in the world. And after a year in Guinea, you can imagine how low my standards have become. I thought Morocco was rather luxurious because you know, there were toilets (with toilet paper!), showers, electricity, paved roads, air conditioning and food that wasn't rice and sauce.

It felt a little weird to leave Guinea. Of course, as we boarded the plane from the tarmac it was pouring rain (Conakry gets more rain than anywhere else in west Africa during this time of year). It took a few days to get used to the dry heat of Morocco and the different atmosphere. It was strange to be a tourist and to see other tourists. I really wish I could speak Arabic, as that would have made the experience more fulfilling I think. At least in Guinea I've learned a few Arabic greetings and sayings that were mildly useful.

It was not as easy to strike up a conversation with Moroccans as it is with Guineans ( I think Guineans take the cake as the most easy going/approachable people on the planet). The Moroccan women seem to have a very different place in their culture than do men, and it was almost impossible to talk with them. And chatting up Moroccan men (as a woman) probably isn't seen as super kosher in their culture either. However, I did get to talking to a few Moroccans here and there to learn about what life is like there. I wanted to talk with people to learn about what everyday life is like - and I realized that my vacation in Morocco would have been very different had I not currently been a Peace Corps Volunteer. Speaking of which, two Moroccans I met, after chatting for a few minutes, asked me if I was a Peace Corps Volunteer, without me saying anything (!). I'm not sure what tipped them off, but something about Americans who can speak French who live in Africa and don't have electricity seemed to be all the information gathered to make that conclusion. One of them was a ceramics vendor who had learned his English from a Peace Corps volunteer back in the day and another one was a guy working in a restaurant who had lived near some volunteers in his village. I honestly can't say how proud I felt when these guys and other Moroccans knew about Peace Corps or had been influenced or taught by a Peace Corps Volunteer. Big up to Peace Corps Morocco!

When it was time to leave Morocco I'll admit I was a little sad to leave the running water and electricity behind. We arrived in Conakry in the middle of the night and my mom's flight back to the U.S. wasn't until later that day. We bummed around Conakry for awhile and then went back to the airport. I had to say goodbye to my mom at the outside gate because you're not allowed in if you don't have a flight. So, I gave my mom a huge hug goodbye and as she walked away the tears started welling up. Not even 5 seconds later a Guinean women standing across from me ordered me to come over to her. I walked over and she warmly took my hand and told me not to cry. She asked who I had just said goodbye to. I told her it was my mother whom I wouldn't see for another year. At this, she too started to cry and empathize, Ey Allah, ey Allah. She gave me a hug and continued to hold my hand. She asked all about me and what I was doing in Guinea and we continued to talk through our tears for a few minutes and then, after wishing me luck and du courage,  we parted ways. And then I remembered that this is why I love Guinea and that I wouldn't sacrifice the sincerity and gentleness of the Guinean people for any of those luxuries.

Yup, I could settle for this...and then my taxi got a flat tire on the way out of the airport.

Gotta love Guinea.

Here's a few pics from the trip:

Maman and me at the beach in Essaouira

Gettin' some lunch...at a restaurant!!! Oh the luxury

Valley in the high Atlas Mountains (not a good trip for people who get carsick...)

Waterfall in the Ourika Valley

Ait-Ben-Haddou

Berber nomads getting ready to trek into the Sahara

One of our Berber guides

Camel (Dromedary to be exact) trekking into the Saharan dunes

Visitors

My parents came to visit me for a week in my village to experience La Guinée for themselves. Words and pictures can't do it justice. There's no way to capture the smells, sounds and tastes without being here. Most of all, you can't capture the generosity, kindness, sincerity and openness of the Guinean people.

It was fantastic to see my parents, spend time with them and to share my Guinean life with them. They got to meet my host family in Dubreka and my host family in my village. They met my principal, other teachers, my students, my soccer players, the women in the women's group, and endless education and government officials in my village and regional capital.

We didn't start the trip out on the best foot, though. On our way to the Soumba waterfalls, where we had intended to stay the night, a flash-flood river had appeared in the dirt road. I thought maybe it was just a few inches deep and the car could pass, but we saw some villagers who, perhaps also thinking it was only a few inches deep, rolled up their pants and started crossing to find out that in the middle it was more than a meter deep. Welcome to the rainy season. At that point we didn't have enough time to get back to Conakry or go to my village so we went to the only other hotel nearby. I'll just say that between the lack of sheets and pillows, the mice, the bugs and the non-functioning bathroom we didn't get much sleep. Our taxi was late picking us up the next morning, but finally we made it out and were on our way to our village when all of the sudden, POPFPFFGH, one of our tires exploded in the middle of nowhere. Ce n'etait pas grave, there was a spare. However, the wrench could not be found anywhere. Our chauffeur flagged down a passing moto and went to the nearest village to find a wrench. Meanwhile, three fotés were standing alongside the road in the bush. A sight to behold! So much so that many people pulled over to the side of the road to see what our distress was. Some jumped out with their wrenches to see if they were the right size. Finally our chauffeur returned, thank goodness, but only to find that they had brought the wrong wrench. At this point there was quite a crowd and another taxi pulled over and the driver tried his wrench and miraculously it worked. So, 5 marriage proposals, 2 Camara-Sylla insults, many failed wrenches, and an hour and a half later we were back in business.

We arrived at my village in the late afternoon. My whole village knew we were arriving that day and many important people had congregated to welcome my parents but we were so delayed that everyone had gone home by the time we arrived. So the next morning they got together again at our local government office and had a welcome ceremony for my parents. Officials very proudly gave my parents a brief history of my village and the demography and geography, translated by our high school English teacher. Afterward two of my 12th grade students presented my parents gifts of handmade clothing from Guinean fabric. Afterwards they got a tour of the elementary, middle and high schools and a bit around my village.

Reunion at the airport

My parents enjoyed their first evening on the beach hanging out with other volunteers

We stopped in Dubreka to visit my host family from training

Across the generations and borders

Mama Africa meets Mama America. Elhadj meets my Dad

Part of my Dubreka family

We stopped at the training center to meet my host Dad who was working

And we also got to say hi to some of the new trainees :)

Welcome Ceremony

Guinean-Americans

The welcome reception

Important people

On a tour of the locals schools

Village host family

My neighbor, Issiaga

A trip to the tailor

We got some very fashionable clothes

Some of the important women in my life: my village host mom, my mom, and the president of the women's group

My host sister Bobo demonstrating how to make a fire in our kitchen

Host brothers and sisters outside the kitchen

After their trip to my village we went to Morocco and I spent 2 weeks of vacation there. More on that in a future post. Until then, Ooo-Ooo