FC-Chicago

Hello all ! Happy belated Islamic New Year (celebrated two weeks ago) !

Things at site are going great. This month I’ve experienced a lot and as usual I feel like nothing I write can do justice to the feelings, sights, sounds and smells that I experience. But here goes…

A L’école

Teaching is getting easier everyday, Ala Tantu. For the most part my students are well behaved and have patience with my often mispronunciation of French. The past few weeks students have veen campaigning for positions in the student government. The positions are : Premier Minister, Minister of Education, Minister of Arts and Sports, Minister of Agriculture and Minister of Health and Hygiene. The campaigns consisted of candidates and 5-10 of their supporters coming into each class and giving a brief speech, while their supporters pretended to film them and hold up their cell phones as if they were reporters with microphones. The elections were held this week after class and one of my students was voted as the Premier Minister !

The inter-class school soccer tournament began this week. Each grade plays against the other grades and there is also a team of teachers. The teacher in charge of the tournament told me I could make a women’s teacher team and I laughed pretty hard and said me and what other women ?

The kick-off match was the teachers against the 7th graders. I thought the teachers would win hands-down, but I severely misjudged the 7th graders. « 7th grade »  is a misnomer because, while they are in their 7th year of schooling, they are not at all the age of 7th graders in the US. I swear some of them looked like they were 18 years old (quite plausible). We lost 0-1. There games will continue every night for 2 weeks. The way the students show up to support their classes – singing chants, dancing, making signs – reminds me very much of Homecoming week at my high school, it's very nostalgic. 

Yesterday my class, 12th grade, played against Terminale, the « grands joueurs ». Apparently, as I was informed afterwards, no class has ever been beaten so badly as my class, with the final score being 1-6. There are 2 games left, if we can win them both we’ll stay in the tournament.

FC-Chicago

My girls soccer team, FC-Chicago (the girls wanted to name themselves after my « native village » but FC-St. Charles was too difficult to say) is starting to shape up. There are about 40 girls (grades 7-10). When I was in Conkary for Thanksgiving I splurged almost half of my monthly allowance to buy soccer jerseys for the girls and have the name of our village screenprinted on the back. In hommage to my highscool I picked jerseys that are orange and black. The girls are pretty stoked and the boys are jealous.  Practice has become increasingly difficult however, because the boys season started and they’ve taken over almost every soccer field (AKA open dirt area) in the district. However, I have been able to bribe some of the teams to let the girls play for an hour  by letting them use one of my real soccer balls. 

Bengbe Side (planting peppers)

My newest endeavor has been helping a women’s cooperative on their pepper/eggplant farm. Last week I biked 4kms through the palm forest out into the next village (village is a generous term here – there were approximately 3 houses and maybe 5 huts) to get to their farm. There are approximately 100 women that work in the copperative but at any given time only about 20 of them are working on the field. They showed me around the farm and taught me how to plant and fertilize peppers and eggplant. My comprehension is somewhat slow since the women speak only Susu. At about 2pm the women take a break to eat rice and sauce that they prepared in the woods over their log fire. We sat around a common bowl and ate with our hands. It had been awhile since I ate with my hand (since Dubreka) and apparently things got a little messy because the 65 year old women next to me took her head scarf off to wipe the oil off my face. For an instant I felt like a baby, but then I felt the overwhelming sense of comraderie, gentillness and love that these women have.The President of the co-op asked me if I could teach the women how to read, write, and do basic math. That’s quite a task, but Inshallah I will do my best to help them. 

Wasalaam

Bonne Fete de Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving from Guinea!

This year I am thankful for the following things:

-My contagious, parasitic skin infection (Scabies) has been cured. What I thought was a bad case of heat rash turned out to be a little more serious. Being a biologist and all I thought it was kind of cool to get a parasitic infection, however, I'm quite happy to be over it.

-I have a house with a floor that is not made of dirt, a roof and ceiling not made of grass, and a toilet
-Every night I get to sleep in a bed (and without bedbugs!)

-I have one of the most interesting, fun and challenging jobs in the world :) Everyday I go to work with the opportunity to inspire and encourage the future engineers, scientists, doctors, pilots, and ambassadors of Guinea (this is what my students tell me they want to be)

-I have great friends and family all over the world who are continously supporting me and encouraging my work here

-I live in a beautiful place where people are incredibly generous and friendly

-The people in my village are so grateful and appreciative of my work and the Peace Corps presence in Guinea. I'm thankful that they're thankful.

-The best Thanksgiving gift was that, in a taxi on my way to Conkary yesterday (to celebrate Tday with some other vols), about 100km from my village, a group of construction workers on the side of the road all waved at me and yelled Damayé, Damayé Camara!! (my Guinean name) when I passed by. I have no idea who they were, but apparently they were from my village and recognized me. Feelin' good.

Peace and Thanks!

L'ecole

Wo nu wali!
I've finally found some time to give you a more detailed account of my experiences in my village (and to find an internet cafe!). I've decided I should write about my school, seeing as that is where I spend most of my time...

La Guerre
The day before the first day of school one of the other professors gave these words of wisdom to me, Demain, la guerre va commencer. Or, in English, tomorrow the war begins. He said this in a joking manner but I couldn't help but feel slightly terrified for the first day of class.

Inshallah
One of my host brothers (actually the son of my principal) came to visit me from across the village. As he was leaving I said "won tina a l'ecole" - see you tomorrow at school (susu). And his response, ominously foreshadowing, was Inshallah, or if God wills it (in Arabic). I thought that was a silly thing to say, because of course there would be school tomorrow, it's the first day of class (whether or not God wills it)!...There was no school the next day. Long story short, it was the day after independance day and at the last minute everyone decided that there shouldn't be school (I did not get this memo, however, until I was the only person to show up at a school of 2,000 students and 28 teachers). Thankfully, classes started the next day and things went smoothly, sans probleme.

Some tidbits about my school:
-The school bell consists of someone banging a wrench 3 times against a giant metal wheel, which I suspect used to be part of a train
-Some students walk for miles to get to the school, others have moved in with family or friends living in this village so that they can attend school. The high school serves a very large area, so I know most of my students probably have gone to a great difficulty to be there
-Many students missed the first week, 2 weeks, or even month of school because they didn't have enough money to buy the school uniform or notebooks. When I questioned my own host sister about why she wasn't going to school the first few days she told me she didn't have a uniform. Well, we marched right over to the market and bought one, for a whopping $4.50.
-Some of my students are essentially the same age as me. At least one of my students has a baby and she's often late to class because she was at home breast-feeding her. I'm actually surprised this girl has managed to stay in school after being married and having a baby (way to be!). The girls that continue to go to school are really courageous, they have a lot going against them. My principal calls me the defeneder of the jeunes filles (young girls) and he often refers to me as the mama of the school. Now that I'm also coaching the girls soccer team I've really gotten a chance to know more of the girls attending school.
-One of my host brothers (I feel like I have a million of them) said something very profound, and disheartening about his education (which I fear may be true for a lot of students in a lot of places around the world). He said, A l'ecole on etudie. Dehors l'ecole on apprend - At school we study. It's outside of school that we learn. At school the students are used to simply memorizing the facts or formulas they need to know, without understanding them or their applications. There simply aren't enough resources (especially, for example, in a class of 100+ students) to do activities to help the students learn and discover things on their own.
-Each class room (there are 21) is cleaned by the students. The boys clean the chalk boards and empy the trash and the girls take turns sweeping the class room everyday after class. These kids literally work for their education.
-It is my principal's dream to build a library and a laboratory at the school. The school is well organized and has a lot of good teachers (not to mention great management). I think it's absolutely feasible and I'm going to do what I can to help him realize his dream...because it's my dream too.
-There are an endless number of things to derange (disrupt) your class. For example, bats fighting in the ceiling, giant vultures landing on the metal roof, lizards running across the floor, and very loud weddings, baptisms and assorted parties happening right outside the window, to name a few things.
-Apparently last night someone messed with the lock to the school office and cleverly broke it so that it could not be opened. Before class could start we had to call a locksmith, who, with the help of some of the teachers, hammered through the cement wall to unlock the bolt. Ahh...nothing like taking down walls before starting class at 8am. (Note: The professors with the name Sylla blamed this lock fiasco on the professors who are Camaras - the "joking cousins" never gets old!).

That's it for now, folks. Oh, and I should just say, we're VERY excited for the next group of volunteers, G-21, coming to Guinea in a month! Soyez la bienvenue!

Won Tanara!

Hello!
Oh me oh my. I haven't seen a computer for a month and now I'm sitting in an internet cafe writing this. I am completely and utterly overwhelmed. Well, I don't have a lot of time to write (as usual, I know), so I will just share with you a few highlights of my first month at site.
Things have been going really well.
- I am teaching 11th and 12th grade physics and 12th grade biology.Last week in biology we had a discussion about how mangoes do not cause malaria (a popular belief here.).
- My students age in range from 15-20. Class sizse are 29-53. Ala tantu (thank god in Susu) that I'm not teaching at the middle school level - each class has 100+ students...!
- At nights I help my neighbors and some students with English, they flock to my front porch and bombard me with questions (and potatoes and guavas)
- I am the only female teacher (out of 29) at the college (middle school) and lycee (high school)
- Last week I became the coach of the girls soccer team! We had our first practice in the middle of a huge downpour. I guess that's how things go in rainy season. Supposedly there will be a girls competition in a neighboring city in December. Hopefully our team will be able to go and compete.
- On Saturday nights I give English revision to high school students at the school. I taught them how to play "2 truths and a lie" and one of the students came up with: "My name is [he said his name], I am a student, I have 5 umbrellas" ....
- On Thursdays I work with the other 2 physics teachers at the school, we work on lesson planning together and share ideas about how to teach physics. Mostly it ends up that one of the teachers reviews the "terminale" (13th grade, last year of high school) curriculum with me because I might teach it next year. It is really just A LOT of calculus-based stuff. I must say, I never imagined my peace corps experience as deriving functions of circular motion
-I now have more family in Guinea than I do in the US. At my site I have 2 host families - the family whose concession I live in and the family of my principal, in addition to my host family in Dubreka. Everyone is always looking out for me and I just can't describe how gracious and genuine people are here. My families know it's difficult to be in this new environment, especially away from ma propre famille. But then often remind me, "Won Tanara" - we are together. This has become my new favroite phrase in Susu. We are all in this life together, so let's help each other out if we can.

Ok, that is all for now folks. Take care and, Won Tanara!

Wa salaam

Training is over. It was long and tough. The real work begins soon...

On Wednesday I finished packing my bags and prepared for Peace Corps to come and pick up my luggage, bike and water filter from my host family's house. My 5 year old sisters insisted on helping me carry my 50 pound suitcases out to the street. I spent one last night with my family. Everyone was somber, knowing that I was leaving the next morning.  I wrote a letter in French and Susu to my mom and aunts to thank them for everything. They couldn't read it, so I read it aloud to them and they started crying. My host family has been so gracious, patient, and loving. I'm going to miss them a lot. The women told me du courage (good luck) and told me they are always there for me.

On Thursday morning I had one last bowl of ye fure (rice porridge) on the porch with my family, and left with my mom, aunts and two sisters to take a taxi to the farewell ceremony. I was so happy that all the amazing women in my family could come to the ceremony. Families of all the volunteers attended, as well as government officials of Dubreka. Volunteers gave speeches in each of the languages we learned during training (French, Susu, Pulaar, and Malinke). I gave the Susu speech. Here is an excerpt from my speech:

"Muxu ngae nun muxu babae wo nu wali! Muxu mu noma wo sare fide....Na findi ma suni na n na, barima dari xoroxo. Kono wali bara muxu xili. Muxu lan muxu xa siga. Nakui, wo xa fe mu ne mu ma muxu ra.
Wo nu wali. Allah xa wo sare fi. Wa salaam"

We can not thank you enough for everything you have done for us... We are sad to leave you, but our work is calling us and we must go. Never will we forget all that you have done for us. We thank you. May god bless you. Peace.

We ate one last meal together at the ceremony. Each family got a giant bowl of rice and vegetables to share. They also brought plates and forks. My family saw that all the other volunteers were eating with forks, so they handed me one. I didn't know what to do - eat rice with a fork? No, I put the fork down and went at the rice with my hand, as I have with every other meal with my family. That's how we do it in Guinea. Afterwards we said our goodbyes and hugged each other and cried. I got onto the bus headed to Conakry with all the other volunteers and waved goodbye out of the window until we turned the corner.

Conakry - we arrived Thursday afternoon. I see this city from a much different perspective now than my first few days here in Guinea. Before I didn't think much of Conakry. Now it seems incredibly luxurious. For example, I took my first shower in 3 months. There is electricity, air conditioning, and toilet paper. Really, what more could you ask for in life?

Yesterday, September 23rd, we swore-in as official volunteers. The ceremony was well attended by Peace Corps staff, our trainers, American diplomats and Guinean diplomats. Volunteers gave speeches in local languages again and I drummed with the children's group from Dubreka one last time. On Tuesday I will leave for my regional capital and on Wednesday I will be installed in my village. Not sure when the next time you'll get an update from me, but I'll try not to let it be too long.

I'm really excited and nervous to start this new part of the journey. Most of all, I'm proud. I'm proud that I've made it this far, proud to be a teacher, proud to be a volunteer in Guinea, proud to be a part of this great organization, and proud to be representing America.

 

And finally, some long awaited pictures:



Trainees showing off our new Guinean clothes at the beginning of training



Cascades de Soumba - waterfall on the outskirts of Dubreka. Went swimming there a few times.



My brothers and sisters on the porch coloring in a map of the world that I made for them.



My brothers and sister, Elhadj, Maman and Mohamed in the back of the house.



The courtyard of my future College-Lycee (middle school/high school). Yes, that's a cow.



The average street in my village.



Arc-en-ciel over the compound wall in Dubreka.



11/14 members of my host family posing in front of our compound wall in Dubreka




Laundry! A neighbor and my oldest brother, Mohamed, insisted on doing my laundry for me. I couldn't refuse.



My host mom pounding rice, in preparation for the Ramadan celebration.



Host family in our kitchen preparing for the Ramadan celebration. Maman, Damaye, Ibrahima Sory, Papa, Laze, and the freshly killed chicken.



Terminale (last year of high school) social science students in Dubreka. For our practice school awards ceremony they performed a skit in English. So proud of them!



Stacey, Allison and I with the kids we drum with.



The kids drumming at our swearing-in. Stacey, Allison and I joined them shortly after this pic.



Team physics. Me, Amanda, Momo, Tosten, Mary, Maimouna (our trainer) and Keila. 


Wa salaam!

Ca n'est pas une maladie

If your hands are swollen, bruised, and possibly a little bloody, don’t worry. Ca n’est pas une maladie, it’s not a disease. This is what Yaya, my drum instructor says to us after we complain that our hands will fall off if we drum anymore.  2 other volunteers (well, technically “stagieres”) and I have been learning Guinean drum and dance at the local centre du percussion. I’ve mastered a few rhythms on the tam-tam (djembe)  from the Basse-Cote of Guinea. Recently we’ve been joining the children's drumming group in preparation to perform together at our swearing-in ceremony in Conakry on Friday.The children are absolutely adorable and animated and we have such a fun time playing together.

                Training is nearly over. It’s come and gone so quickly I can hardy believe it. It seems like yesterday that my family was showing me how to eat rice with my hands, that my host mom was showing me how to correctly get water from the well, that my aunt was showing me how to clean my laundry....Now I feel chez moi, like I'm at home. I dance to Susu tunes on the radio with the children, have compelling conversations about women's issues with my mom and aunts in the candlelight on the porch, and I greet everyone in Susu. The most useful phrase I know in Susu is "Nmu xili Fote," which means my name isn't white person. "N xili Damaye," my name is Damaye. After 11 weeks in Dubreka the whole world knows that I am Damaye, not fote. 

Yesterday we finished "Ecole Pratique" - practice school. We simulated the school environment for 3 weeks - teaching Guinean students at the local school, giving exams and grades, dealing with discipline problems, etc... There are no textbooks for students and there are no libraries. Students do not have access to the internet....thus the notes they take in class are all they have for reference. That makes teaching pretty difficult. The Guinean education system very much focuses on the national exams (the Brevet after middle school and the Bac after high school). They're great with numbers but terrible with concepts. My work is cut out for me.

Well, once again the generator is being cut soon so I have to leave it at that.  I will put up pics soon.
Peace~

Une Vie de Luxe

Hello. My name is Damaye Camara. I have cats in my backpack. I eat dogs. I steal things.

At least that’s what someone with the last name of Sylla would tell you about me. Guineans love to joke and laugh. There is this strange but hilarious cultural tradition here that you make outrageous insults at people who are your “cousin.” Each last name here has a corresponding last name which is your “cousin.” When you meet someone who is your cousin you should immediately tell them that they eat dogs and cats and accuse them of being a thief (don’t worry, people don’t actually eat dogs or cats here...to my knowledge). Beyond verbal abuse, you can also go as far as to steal the goat at your cousin’s wedding and hide it so the couple can’t get married (apparently you need a goat to get married). All of this is in good humor, of course.

Because I’m a Camara, I should insult or expect to be insulted by anyone with the last name Sylla. When I visited my future site a few weeks ago I was introduced to a lot of Syllas. I thought I was perhaps being a bit rude to insult the director of education of the district upon first meeting, but I was reassured once he insulted me back and we all started laughing. The Syllas of Guinea have been rather impressed that after only one month in Guinea I know how to properly insult them. Integration!

The road to my village

Before the car even starting moving from the gare routiere (taxi station) in Conakry, the man next to me asked if I’d be his wife. This is going to be a looooong car ride. Sitting in the back of a tiny car, with 3 adult Guinean men squished in next to me was...rather crowded. After a few hours on a nicely paved road along palm tree mountains and forests, one of the Guinean men informed me that the good road ended here. The road was slightly less smooth, and I though, this isn’t sooo bad. Then the potholes came. We zig-zagged across the whole road trying to avoid the biggest potholes, zooming at what I would guess was 10km/hour – though I couldn’t be too sure since the speedometer was broken. “How long do we have left on this road?” “95km”....uh oh.

            2.5 hours later we were there. And by there I mean a mosque by the side of the road. It was past due time to pray, and this mosque was as good as any. The men got out, left me in the car and then came back 10 minutes later. I inquired about how far we had traveled. Only 50km. Eish. Eventually, 2 hours later, we made it to my village.

            My village is pretty much in a mango tree/palm tree forest (very shady!).  It’s on the Basse-Cote (same region as Dubreka). There are 2 paved roads in my village ( a lot for the average PC/Guinea volunteer), a huge daily and weekly market, and a broken gas station. My future home has walls made of cement (instead of mud) and a roof (instead of straw). Une vie de luxe (a luxurious life)! Running water? Not a chance. Electricity? In your dreams. I’m starting to learn Susu language in my training because that’s what they speak there. Only people who have been well-educated speak French very well. Which, unfortunately, means that most women do not speak French very well.

Home Sweet Home

After the week long site-visit I was really glad to be home in Dubreka. I missed my host family a lot. I got a grand welcoming from the family when I returned home. The kids almost peed their pants they were so excited to see me. It felt good to sit on the ground and dig my hand into the big bowl of rice and sauce and be in the company of the women of the house. 

            PC training is ramping up. This week we start Practice School which is a full simulation of our teaching experience. I will be teaching 11^th grade physics. At my site I will be teaching 11^th and 12^th grade physics (Lycee). Lesson planning is hard work – the curriculum is poorly planned out and the textbooks are horrendous (2 of the French high school physics books I was given here fail to mention Newton anywhere in the book...). I’ve also got a lot to work on in terms of language, I need to increase my technical French and I’m also trying really hard to learn Susu so that I can communicate with the women of my village.

That’s all I have time for now, need to finish writing homework problems for practice school. Stay tuned for more. I leave you with this bit of wisdom: "Qui ne risque rien, n'a rien" - nothing ventured, nothing gained (who risks nothing has nothing.)

Peace,

Liz