How to make Kanya

Guinean cooking 101: Kanya

Kanya is the Guinean equivalent of a peanut butter sugar cookie...almost. It is a tasty treat that is sold on the streets all over Guinea. I recently acquired a few kilograms of shelled peanuts, so my host family and I decided we should use them to make kanya. There are only 3 ingredients: peanut butter, rice flour and sugar. 

Step 1: Grill the peanuts and bring them to the peanut-butter-making machine in the market 

Step 2: Bring some rice to the rice-flour-making machine in the market and mix with the peanut butter and sugar

 Step 3: Pound the mixture in a mortar until it becomes super dense

 Step 4: Flip the mixture out into a bowl and cut it into little squares and voila!

Fete de Tabaski

Earlier this week we celebrated the Fete de Tabaski, which was a day of utter relief from the stress of school and political uncertainty. Tabaski (Eid al Adha) is an annual holiday celebrated by Muslims. In Guinea, people celebrate by going to the big community prayer outdoors, eating a lot, sacrificing a sheep or goat, and relaxing with the family. I celebrated with my friend Alexis and my host family. In the morning Alexis and I got dressed up in our nicest Guinean complets and adorned some head wraps borrowed from my host mom. We headed to the big field behind the village mosque, laid our prayer mat down in the dirt under a palm tree, and greeted all the women and girls from my village.It never ceases to amaze me to see all the people from my community in one place. 

After the prayer, we headed home. My family did not have a goat or sheep to sacrifice, so thankfully we got to skip the killing and butchering and went straight to eating rice! I paid for the ingredients of Riz Gras - the most delicious (and expensive!) rice dish in Guinea. The rest of the day was spent relaxing with the family and digesting the massive amount of food that we ate. 

 Riz gras with Abou

M'mawa and her son Bouba dressed up for the fete

Life in uncertainty

Things around here have been a little rough lately. There’s been a lot of stressful stuff that is all happening at once. I’m not quite sure where to start…

How about the Guinean legislative elections? They’ve been pushed back for years, and finally, after pushing the date back more than a few times this year, they finally happened. The time leading up to the elections was stressful for PCVs because we haven’t been able to leave our sites during this time, but also because many of us feared the worst: election rigging, fighting over results, people taking to the streets…and ultimately the evacuation of Peace Corps.

Election day I was very anxious, my ears were glued to the radio – my only source of information. The day passed smoothly, but no one knew when the results would be out. Some people said the next day. Some people said within 72 hrs, some people said one week. Well…it has been 13 days since the election and there are still no results…and it would appear that the results will never come out. The election committee was accused of fraud before they even published the results. I have no idea what happens from here, but I have been holding my breath all this time and am getting worn out of this uncertainty. I honestly do not have a clue what is going on; there is a complete lack of information. The election just needs to be over so everyone can go back to living life normally. I would have liked to write more about the details of the election but I have written exactly as much as a I know (almost nothing)…

Literally smack dab in the middle of the most tense time in Guinea (right after the elections) we get a message from Peace Corps informing us about the US Government shutdown…which, for me, was completely out of the blue. I hadn’t been listening to BBC news as I usually do because I was instead listening to Guinean radio. Imagine the shock for me – I was expecting PC to send a message saying the Guinean government had shut down and instead it was the American government! This was just one more stressful thing that I was completely uniformed and confused about. American politics seem just as messed up and uncertain as Guinean politics.

The third stress factor is school. Nationwide, students weren’t planning on coming to school until the elections were over. Since the results were taking a long time to come out it seemed that there would be a delay in the school year. Through some confusion the radio also announced that school was postponed, though a few days later it turned out to be untrue. So, the principal and teachers were ready to teach this week, but still unsure if school was really supposed to start and if students would really come. On top of that, as I explained in my last post, my school has enough of its own problems. The 7th grade building that was being remodeled is still not done – there is no ceiling or roof. No one knows for sure if 12th grade is being eliminated from our school or if they’re staying. No matter what happens the school will have way too many classes this year, each with way too many students. School kind of started but the schedule changes every day. One day I’m told I will be teaching 11th grade biology, so I start preparing lessons for that. The next day I’m told I won’t be teaching 11th grade but 8th grade biology. So I got home and prepare lessons for that. The next day I’m told I won’t be teaching biology at all, but instead Terminale physics. I start preparing for that. This morning I got my (hopefully) final schedule and I am teaching 11th grade and Terminale physics and 7th grade math. So…now I need to go prepare for that! I also need to prepare myself for teaching large classes. Last year my biggest class was 35. This year my smallest class will be 90.

That’s my current life situation in a nutshell. I’m just taking it one day at a time. School will work itself out. I have faith that American politicians will come to their senses. No one can predict Guinean politics, so I’m just not going to worry about that anymore.

Annee Scolaire 2013-2014

This school year should be an interesting one.

I was especially looking forward to this school year because I thought that after 2 years of teaching the same classes I've finally gotten the hang of things. However...this school year will be nothing like last year. For many, many reasons.

Overall, results for the national exams, especially the exam to pass from elementary school (6th grade) to middle school and the BREVET to pass from middle to high school were suspiciously high. This was a nationwide phenomenon and there haven't been any clear expectations for why the passing rate was so high. It's not that I'm against kids passing the national exam. It's just that I know the kids shouldn't have passed and now 7th grade teachers will be stuck with students that don't know how to read and 11th grade teachers (me) will be stuck with students that can't do basic math.

The practice BREVET was administed at my school and was a very legitimate test with little cheating, consistent grading, and correct calculation of grades. 13/400 students passed the practice test. In general, around 60 or so kids pass the BREVET each year. So this year, I estimated that somewhere between 13 and 60 kids would pass the BREVET. However, after coming back from vacation in the states I was informed that 220 kids passed the BREVET...?!?!?! The elementary schools that feed into our middle school usually pass around 400 students. This year 800 students passed. Schools around Guinea had similarly unbelievable results. My theory is that because of the upcoming elections, the tests were graded very loosely. With a lot of students passing, people will be more happy with the governemnt and less likely to strike or cause other problems that would disturb election plans.

You can imagine what will happen to my school this year. Instead of 4 classes of 7th grade, there will now be 7 classes, each with 120+ students. However, our school doesn't have enough classrooms for all these students so my principal has been left scrambling to figure out how to accomodate everyone. The gov't education officials suggested eliminating 12th grade to make room. His idea was that 12th grade is the smallest class at our school and those kids would just have to leave and go study somewhere else. Obviously my principal and I were very upset about this. We're now looking at a way to rotate classes around during the days to fit everyone in. It will be a logistical nightmare. Not to mention that we need atleast 200 more desks - which some local carpenters are frantically trying to build before the year starts.

For my own classes, I will now have 100+ students in each 11th grade class instead of 30. I've been lucky enough these past 2 years to have such small classes. I have no idea how to manage 100 students in one room. It will be chaos. 12th grade is the class I've always taught most, and if the gov't officials have their way, it might be gone. That would mean that I would be starting from scratch lesson planning and learning the curriculum for another grade. On top of that, the gov't decided that English needs to be taugt in middle school now, so my principal and other teachers are asking if I'd want to do it. I feel vehemently opposed. Middle school students can barely read and write French and our middle school is lacking french, math, physics, and biology teachers. If they wanted me to teach any of those subjects I would be more than happy to - because to me they are much more important than English. I would gladly take on more hours if I felt that I was doing something really important. I sometimes wish I was a middle school math teacher because I think it is one of the most important subjets, along with French.

Speaking of missing teachers, when my principal brought up the issue with gov't officials they asked how many teachers we had. Around 30, my principal said. The gov't officials said that was actually too many and that they would be taking away some of our teachers to give to other schools that were missing teachers.

There is so much confusion about this school year - and to add to it, know one even knows when the school year will start. It always starts after the independance day (Oct 2). This year, though, the gov't said that the vacation was too long (ironically because the gov't cut last school year short because they thought they were having elections in June) and now schools are supposed to be ready to go on Sept 16th. My principal has told all the teachers to come to school ready on the 16th...however there is not a single student that has been informed of this date. Apparently, we're just supposed to show up and be ready to teach should a gov't inspector come, but we all know that there will be no students until October. The legislative elections are scheduled for Sept 24th and if there are any disputes or issues with the election, that will further delay students from coming to school. Long story short, I'll be at my school ready to teach on Monday, but I don't expect any students for at least another month. Ahhhh Guinea.

Last but not least, of all the crazy things happenning...my princial is worried he might lose his job. He is a member of the opposition party, and the whole 2 years I've been here he's been telling me that they might kick him out of his position, simply because he is not with the ruling party. Since the elections are coming up it's an especially tense time and my principal is worried. He works 7 days a week, hasn't had a break or vacation in many years, is against corruption, runs a very large and high-acheieving school...and the gov't wants to kick him out anyway. My principal is OK with this, he says politics is not his problem and if they want to kick him out, so be it. I'm hopeful that they won't do this though, because I think people know the school would fall apart very quickly without him there, and there's hardly any other Guinean that would work those hours to keep the school running smoothly.

It's a game of wait-and-see. I'm just hanging out in my village waiting to see what happens. I'll be ready to teach on Monday or 4 Mondays from now. I'm ready for 100+ students in a class with 30 desks. Bring it on Guinea!

Resultats

This year, 40 creative, bright and determined students will leave my village to continue their education at the university level.

I just found out that 40 Terminale students at my school passed the 2013 BAC - national college entrance exam.

These were the students I taught my first year. 24 of my science students and 16 of my social science students passed. I am so proud of these students who worked so hard for this, who have stayed up late nights to study in candle light their whole lives, who have no text books, no internet and whose parents are most likely illiterate. I'm proud to have played a small part in their success. These students will be the future doctors, engineers, teachers, and leaders of Guinea. They are espoir of Guinea.

And that is why I'm extending my service for a 3rd year. 

Back to Guinea

I just got back to Guinea a few hours ago, and have since enjoyed a spaghetti dinner with other volunteers at the house and the last shower I'll be taking for the next few months.
Though I didn't get into Guinea until 6pm today, I started to feel like I was in Guinea yesterday at 3pm at the airport in Chicago. When I went up to the check-in counter in O'hare the woman took my papers and passport and looked over them for a long time, too long. She asked me to confirm my final destination, which I did. She shook her head and told me that my visa to get into Guinea was no good.
Pardon??
She left to go print out a paper with visa regulations. She pointed out to me a clause that said the visa needed to be a sticker not a stamp, as my new 3rd year visa was. She directed me to her supervisor who told me the same thing. I inquired about whether this requirement was worldwide or specific to Guinea, because whoever wrote this requirement must not realize that Guinea just doesn't have stickers. Then the man told me that in fact requirement to have a sticker visa was written by Guinea itself.
So, if I'm understanding this correctly, the Guinean ministry of foreign affairs is only issuing stamp visas and at the same time saying that they won't accept stamped visas. Only in Guinea.
What should we do then?
Well, you're going to have to fax us a letter from the Guinean Embassy saying they'll accept it.
We get the number for the Guinean Embassy in the US and call it. No one answers. The phone rings and rings. I hang up, try again...and again. There is no one at the Guinean Embassy. On the Guinean side it's now 8pm on a Friday, meaning there will be absolutely no one at the ministry in Conakry to help, and even if there was, good luck trying to find their phone number.
By now I'm in tears, utterly panicking. I call the Peace Corps country director for help and explain the situation. I hand the phone off to the airline supervisor and they talk for a bit. They hang up and the supervisor makes a call to who knows where, starts speaking Dutch, then tells me to just go on ahead. No one really knows what will happen once I get to Conakry.
When I land in Guinea I start to get a little nervous about border control. I walk up to the window and hand my passport and entrance paper to the gendarme. The guy gives one quick glance at my old, expired visa, stamps it and says welcome to Guinea. And off I go.

Home Leave

I'm in a plane on the tarmac of the Conakry airport at dusk, taking in the last sights of Guinea before I head home for a month; thinking how much I'll miss Guinea, even for just a month. The plane is getting ready for take off and by now it's dark. And when I say dark I mean dark. As the plane is taking off I look down at Conakry, capital of Guinea and home to a couple million people. Darkness. The city is black, only the head and tail lights of cars gives proof that this is even a city. As usual, power is out in Conakry. It's time to go home. 

My home leave is 6 weeks long (4 weeks of PC home leave + 2  weeks of my own vacation time). The first two weeks were spent in France with my mom and her family. The remaining 4 weeks were split between high school friends, college friends, and family in Chicago, Madison, Indiana and New York. 

When I got off the plane in Chicago my family met me with cheers and a welcome home sign. Through my tears I got to see my brother's daughter for the first time. She was 3 weeks old. Just thinking about the first moment I saw her makes me cry - with joy, love, and amazement for this beautiful new heart and soul. La vie est belle. 

My time home was well spent - bike rides, picnics, card games, street festivals, beach volleyball, pool parties, hikes, electricity, internet, cheese, ice cream and pizza (though apparently 2 years of not eating dairy has made me lactose intolerant).

I've thoroughly enjoyed being home and spending time with the people I love. Here are some of the highlights of being home:

My mom and her sisters in Paris

My sister-in-law, my brother and me at the airport

My beautiful niece Lola Maureen

4th of July in my hometown

 My cousin and her kids - note the Guinean complet worn by my 2nd cousin

College friends Brian and Alex in Madison

High school friends Katrina, Diana and me in Chicago

Maternal grandparents in Indiana

 My brothers, niece and me in Chicago 

Friends/family friends/family...it's all the same

 My Grandmother, Dad and Uncle

I leave for Guinea in a few days. I'm sad to say goodbye again for a long time, but I can't say I didn't make the most of my time home. I'm ready to get back to Guinea, start some new projects, help with the next Peace Corps education stage's training, and eat some rice and sauce. Al Baraka

Death in the [host] Family

[This is from December 2012]

I was lying in bed at night, in that state of half sleep/half consciousness, when I heard the wailing start. At first I thought I was dreaming, but then it got louder and louder and I woke up and listened. The wailing was very loud now, it was clear that many people were crying, and that they were coming to our house. I knew immediately it was a death. There is no sound on Earth worse than the sound of Guinean women grieving the loss of someone. I got myself up and went to the door, but hesitated, worried about who could have died in the family so unexpectedly. When I opened my door I found all of my family crying on the porch, while our neighbors were amassing at our house, wailing very loudly. I asked my host sister who died and she informed that it was another daughter of my host parents. She lived in Boke and had been sick for a few days. I had met her on several occasions and two of her children are living at our house. After saying my condolences to everyone and sitting on the porch for a while I went back to bed. The next day I stayed home from school to be with my family while tons of people came to visit. My students from this year and last year all came to my house together to give their condolences to me and the family. It was an unexpected and very sad death, especially since she had many young children.

Why have I attended so many more funerals than weddings or baptisms here?

 Salematou bara so. Allah xa a kanta.

Village soccer battle

[This is from December 2012]

One of the closest PCVs to me, Brittany, and I organized a friendly match between my girls soccer team and a girls team that she created. It was a Peace Corps battle with a lot at stake (our pride, mostly).

We took a dilapidated van out to Brittany's village about an hour and a half away, on a long and bumpy road into the bush.

The game was more or less like any other match we played, with the exception of a visit by the devil who apparently attacked our goalie after a goal was scored on her. After the goal was scored she fell over and started rolling around and flailing her arms. Thankfully there was an exorcist in the audience who identified that there was a snake in her belly and was able to call it out (???).

Second half was less bizarre, with fewer demonic interventions. Long story short, we came out with a victory: 3-1.

 The two teams with coaches and Brittany and I

 Starting line up

Pre-game pep talk

 The soccer field

Goal post: not in great shape

The first rains

The scent of fresh rain is the same everywhere in the world. The smell of clean air, life, hope, prosperity and a force that, combined with the sun, will create the things that will nourish us for the rest of the year.

The scent of fresh rain…is very quickly overtaken by the smell of the year’s raw sewage which is overflowing latrines, sweeping up the piles of garbage and flooding the streets.

It was good while it lasted.

Extension

Hello World!

Internet has been rough lately, mostly bacuse the internet place I used to go to stopped working and the only other internet cafe within many, many hours of me has a terrible connection. I used to post whenever I happened to be in Conaky, but lately with political instability (Guinea is preparing to have it's first ever democratic legiaslative elections on June 30th), our travel to Conkary has been highly restricted.

Yet here I am, in the computer lab of the Conakry Peace Corps house. I'm here for a medical evaluation that I have to do in order to officially (drum roll....) extend my serive for one year!! I'm going to stay in my same site and work at my same school. Since I'm extending I get a month of home leave which I'm taking at the end of June. I'm crossing my fingers that the elections will happen peacefully and that PCVs won't be affected...

So, keeo your eyes peeled for some wayyy over due blog posts of things that happened quite some time ago but wasn't able to post.

 Local dancing/drumming group rehearsal near my house

 A map of Guinea that my new site mate Alexis and I painted on our primary school

Marching band of middle/high school students

Malaria Matangaké

April is Peace Corps Malaria month – that is, a month dedicated to malaria prevention (not the month when all PCVs get malaria!).  Malaria is the number one single cause of death in Guinea and the entire population lives in high- transmission zones. People also have all sorts of misconceptions about malaria. For example, they say that if you eat mangoes after mango season you’ll get malaria. Malaria prevention is not difficult; it’s just a matter of people understanding how malaria is transmitted and taking steps to eliminate mosquitoes and mosquito bites. Soon it will be rainy season, which means there will be lots of standing water around, and thus lots of mosquito breeding. This is why myself, with thousands of other PCVs across Africa are dedicating our resources towards malaria prevention this month. In addition to the daily activities that people have been doing this month, the PCVs in my region decided that we would have a mass effort to sensitize as many people we could in one single day, at my site.

                At first it seemed like a daunting task to plan a single day packed with malaria activities that 13 PCVS could all do together. However, after talking to some people in my community about it, they gave me suggestions and I realized how motivated my community was to host PCVs and to facilitate their work. The community stepped up and practically did all the work themselves. In the end, it was teachers, students, government officials, representatives of the health center, a theater group, a drumming group, soccer teams, and our local marching band who pulled together to make this day one of the most impactful and memorable days of my Peace Corp service.  We reached out to 735 students, visited 81 homes, hung 21 previously unhung nets, and informed over 500 community members who came to our malaria themed soccer match.

In the morning, everyone met at my house and we headed to the school together;  a  parade of Fotes! At school we went into each classroom and played a malaria trivia game with the students, followed by a malaria skit. By noon we had visited each of the 12 classes that were in session that day. We headed back to my house, where my family had made riz gras for everyone, with meat that was very graciously donated by my community to welcome the other PCVs. At the same time, 15 of my students from last year, now in Terminale, had been asked to come and help us to do community sensitizations. The students came on time (a miracle!) and motivated. They started sharing relevant malaria vocabulary in their local languages and practiced telling each other in Susu and Pulaar about malaria. We then split up into groups of two Guineans and two Americans and had a competition to see who could visit the most homes and hang up the most mosquito nets in the different neighborhoods of my site. I was astonished by the initiative that the students took, going right up to any women or families that were outside their houses and explaining in their local languages all about malaria. They showed the families pictures and convinced everyone who had an unhung mosquito net to hang it up. I was SO proud of my students; taking what they’ve learned in class and sharing the knowledge they have with their community members. After 2 hours we regrouped at my house to tally up the work we did: we were able to see hundreds of people in their homes.

Immediately afterwards, we got dressed up in our soccer jerseys to play a mini soccer game against a co-ed team of the soccer coaches of my village and my soccer girls at our cultural center. Tons of people showed up, mostly to watch the white people play soccer. Our local journalist reported the game and interjected lots of information about malaria. A representative of our health center talked about the impact of malaria and a theater group performed a malaria skit in Susu for halftime. The game ended 1-1 and then went to penalty kicks. No one scored until we were down to our last player, who, incredulously, scored. The crowd stormed the field, screaming, dancing and cheering for us. Then everyone broke out into dance with the traditional drummers. And that’s how we ended a great day.

Girls Conference

First off, a HUGE thank you to everyone who donated to our fund for the girls’ outdoor leadership conference and made this dream come true. We just got back a few days ago and it was a huge success. 

My principal and I had made announcements to all the 8-10^th grade classes about the conference. I put out an application form and received 22 great applications. Our school was allotted 3 spots for the conference, so I had to narrow it down. We ended up interviewing the ten best candidates and then I picked the best 3. When I announced the 3 girls that were selected they were absolutely elated. None of them had ever traveled much farther than our prefecture, let alone to another region. All three of them were Peuhl and neither they or their parents had never been to the Fouta Djallon (the homeland of the Peuhls). The voyage to see another region of guinea was half the excitement about the conference. As word spread about the conference, all sorts of people were asking me about it and were so proud that some of our students had this opportunity. 

The voyage from our village to Doucki is a day and a half long. The girls didn’t hesitate to tell everyone they came in contact with that they were on a voyage to the Fouta. Other passengers in our taxi were excited for the girls as well. It was smooth sailing, until the windy, mountainous roads got to one of the girls and she got carsick…all over the rest of us. There was a moment of shock, but everyone took it in stride and they all started laughing. Our expert chauffeur pulled over next to a stream so we could all wash ourselves off while he washed his car. We continued on and eventually made it to Mamou were we spent the night. Despite the mess we made in the chauffer’s car, he offered to pick us up the next morning and drive us to our next destination, Pita. Before we headed out the next morning, the chauffeur took us to a boutique so we could buy plastic bags, one for  each of us – which was a good call since another girl got carsick on the way. Despite being carsick, the girls listened intently as the chauffeur pointed out landmarks on the way and explained the geography of the area. The girls wrote down in their notebooks the name of every sous-prefecture, river or other landmark we passed. We made it to Pita and found a car going to the village of Doucki. All in all, we left our village at 8am on Thursday and arrived at Doucki at 3pm on Friday. 

Shortly after our arrival, PCVs Sarah and Juliette arrived with their students. We started the conference with a hike out to Lion’s Rock with our Guide Hassan. The girls reveled in the vast, mountainous landscape. At the top of Lions Rock, we shouted out words and heard the echo from the rocks across the valley. Many of the girls had never heard an echo before (!). After we returned to our “base,” we had a session about gender roles in Guinean culture. We ate a hefty meal of rice and “Mafe hacko bantaara” – manioc leaf sauce and then went to bed. The girls split up in threes and stayed in huts. The next morning we talked about the importance of the environment, how to protect it, and the rate of decomposition of certain objects. Then we went on a long hike into a rocky, forested ravine full of vines. The girls got to climb around and swing on the vines and climb the rocks. Afterwards we did a session about health in which we talked about malaria, HIV, family planning and nutrition. This was followed by a session on how to be a good communicator. We did one final hike in the evening where we walked to the edge of the plateau which overlooks a huge and beautiful valley. Throughout all our hikes the girls had noted certain plants which they saw an abundance of with respect to their villages – most namely a plant whose stem is fibrous and used as a traditional toothbrush. The girls picked lots of them to bring back as souvenirs for their families. That night we had a session about setting goals for the future and making plans to achieve them. Then we had a candle-lighting ceremony where each girl said what her goals were. No one wanted to go to bed the last night, so we stayed up playing games and teaching the girls American camp songs. The next morning we had a final session about how to present what the girls learned to their peers, exchanged phone numbers, received certificates and said goodbye. 

We had a long trip home, but thankfully no one got sick. We made it back on Monday night; everyone tired from the trip, but excited to share their experience with their friends and family. I think the girls will remember this for the rest of their lives – Not just the information they learned during the sessions, but how they learned to appreciate the environment and the natural beauty of their country and the friendships they formed among themselves.

 

Dry Season: Round 2

First off, sorry it’s been awhile since I’ve posted. The internet has been too slow to load blog posts recently.

We’re full swing into the dry season now, which means that it is very dusty and things are starting to accumulate a layer of brown dust, including my body. The wells are also getting low, especially our own. The other day when I pulled up the bucket from the well a frog jumped out. That’s when you know your well is too low. Now I have to get my water at the pump. The pump is great because the water is super clean – it comes from a solar powered water tower at the edge of the village that draws water from very deep underground. It doesn’t work much during the rainy season because there isn’t enough sun, but it doesn’t matter since there’s an abundance of pretty clean water during the rainy season. However, it has been cloudy recently and thus the power has been weak at the pump and the water just dribbles out. When I am able to fill my buckets at the pump I prioritize that water for my filter, and end up taking showers and washing my clothes with the brown, froggy well water. Other than the water issues, dry season isn’t so bad. My laundry dries in the sun in about an hour! Oranges and bananas are aplenty, and soon we’ll have mangoes again. Though, for some reason or another there has been abundance of insects in my house, including a tarantula-like spider that I found yesterday. I say tarantula-like because, though it very much resembled a tarantula (giant, hairy, fangs…), it moved much faster than a tarantula (!!). The mice are back too, trying to eat the delicious goodies from my care packages, and a pack of bush rats has started nesting outside of my bedroom window. Ahhh, the life!