Scones, Under the Fig Tree

6 April – Kossouka, 9:02pm

Up down. Well, today itself was pretty good. I managed to wake up before my alarm went off, but lounged in bed for a bit longer anyway, then got my breakfast bread and made my coffee and sat outside with the cats before heading to the CSPS at 8 instead of 9. I was apparently still too late and the women had already been weighed, but perhaps if I get there a bit earlier tomorrow I can help out. There weren't many women this morning – we were done before 9, a very rare event indeed. There was an inspection by the district and the NGO Medicus Mondi to check our staff's knowledge of the new national protocols for malaria treatment. I learned a bit more about malaria, they answered a bunch of questions and were told that they should have staff meetings to share information learned at formations and conferences, and then I left to go to the tap to get water.

In celebration of my birthday tomorrow I decided to bake! I finally got out the dutch oven, and I am happy to report that my first baking expedition turned out wonderfully and I firmly plan on doing so more often – next up, cornbread and lasagna! The lemon-ginger scones are delicious and I have eaten more than my fair share, but the rest are going to my CSPS staff tomorrow and I'll figure out something for the prefet when I go to bug him for that list of community organizations. I was going to go today, but just as I started baking Sali (my midwife) came to ask if I would take her to the mango grove Moussa had mentioned. I was a bit surprised, but said I'd be happy to, so an hour later, off we went. Walking, none the less! I think we got more stares from people accustomed to seeing her moto everywhere (even from one end of the CSPS to the other) than from me being the nasara. We decided that the mango grove was too crowded, so we sat under these two giant old twisty fig trees and I read and did sodoku puzzles while she studied for her concours that starts the 10^th. I still don't quite get what it is, but I think it's a big test/training/application to continue on to the next level in the medical hierarchy, to move from an Accouseuse Auxilliare to a Sage Femme. We headed home when it was starting to get kind of dark and stormy looking, but it didn't rain.

Annee Blanche, Nice Day

5 April – Kossouka, 9:04pm

National News: Apparently the declaration of an annee blanche depends on students missing a certain number of hours of class time before the minister of education can begin to decide yes or no. If strikes would continue to the end of the week, they would meet the hours. If they go back now, they have to learn two trimesters worth of information in one, knowing that little to no real work will happen the first week as people get back into the swing, plus most students actually stop going to classes in the last month or so of school because they're needed to help plant the family fields. While an annee blanche would be terrible in a lot of ways, at this point it's likely that most students will fail their classes should the year continue, forcing them to repeat the year anyway. In secondary school you can fail a year once and transfer to another school to take it again, but after that you're done with your education if you don't pass. With an annee blanche, the year is erased and started over, no harm no foul. But if they don't declare it and kids who have already failed once fail again because they just weren't in class to learn the material, their education is over, unless they pay to go to private school in a big city. Basically, it's a bad situation all around, but a fair number of people think that it would be better for students if it were called.

My News: Today was a good day. I wandered over to the CSPS around 9, as usual, and had a decent conversation with my new major, who was actually in the process of fixing mistakes in the monthly report. I was convinced I was the only person who ever looked at them after they were (half) filled out, but here he was correcting the total columns, moving numbers so they lined up in the right boxes, and checking to make sure things were consistent throughout the report. What? He also showed me a section I had always ignored because it was always empty, but apparently the CSPS itself is supposed to be doing sensibilizations to teach people about health topics, and there's a place to report the number planned and the number completed for each month. I mentioned my surprise and asked if he could inform me of any upcoming ones so I can observe and learn how to do my own. He was incredibly enthusiastic and said that not only will I be observing the sensibilizations, but I'll be going on the vaccination sorties to the satellite villages (you know, what David has been assuring me for months he will do but then fails to tell me when he's going until after he comes back). I'm trying not to let my hopes get raised too high, but I'll admit that this is very encouraging.

He then took this all to mean that I'm too bored, so he called in the midwife and told her to make me weigh and take the blood pressure of the women who come for their pre-natal consultations. Well, that wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but it'll be nice to be useful, even if it means getting up earlier (I'm going to miss not having to set an alarm, but life is about compromises). I sat in on the rest of the morning's consultations, read some more of the obstetrics book, and went home for lunch. I played with the cats and called a few people, and then after the repose was over I went to the library.

Have I mentioned how amazing my librarian/counterpart is? He found me the written history of Kossouka (7 pages of handwritten Moore) and then told me the story - once I type it up for my Etude I'll definitely post it here because it's quite the incredible tale. He then taught me about the traditional fete's held by the different groups here, and a little about traditional customs and spiritual beliefs. After a good 2 hours (with interruptions to greet the gendarmes, students, and teachers who showed up) we called it an evening. I'm making an effort to try and be more social and bien integre, so I started by asking if I could come and greet his family sometime this week. He seemed delighted and we decided on Friday morning – he'll come get me from the CSPS and take me to his courtyard, and then I'll meet him again that evening at the library to go do the stations of the cross (for my first time, in Moore) with his church group.

If that wasn't enough of a good day, I then went back to my CSPS to say hello, even though it was already about 5:30pm. I was having such a good time with the major and our two interns that I ended up staying until nearly 7:15pm, well past sunset, because they were all so nice and engaging and wanting to help me learn new things about medicine and Moore and Burkina in general. What a difference! We had a late arrival patient, but since it was the father of the adjoint mayor we all went and the major did the consultation. Not only did he do a decent exam and create lots of teaching points for the interns, he did a malaria rapid test and when it was negative he did not prescribe malaria medications. While that seems pretty obvious, the vast majority of people who get rapid-tested are negative for malaria but still get that as part of their diagnosis based on their symptoms and are given the pills to treat it. I was so impressed I almost hugged the man, especially for teaching such a crucial lesson to the interns – when you have the technology to rule out a disease, it's a waste to treat for that disease when the test is negative.

So it was a lovely day, a lovely evening, and then I came home, showered, made garlic mashed potatoes while listening to the news, and typed a bit while drinking my tea under the starry night sky. *happy sigh*

Ragout

4 April – Kossouka, 7:19pm

World News: Haven't heard yet, the BBC comes on at 8pm.

My News: Today was my major's first day. I went to CPN's, read my french maternity book and talked to the interns (both very nice, from the school in OHG, studying to become midwives), and watched him finish the monthly report that Sylvie kindly left him. Went to the marche and bought a bunch of veggies and made Emily (who had been in Seguenega and decided to bike back by way of my village) a delicious ragout with potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, onions, and garlic. It turned out quite well, if I do say so myself. Mangoes chilled in my cannery topped off our wonderful meal, and then she hopped back on her bike to continue home. After she left I swear I intended to go to the library, or go sit outside with my neighbors, but then David called, and then Steve was near the tree where he gets reception so we talked for another 45 mins or so, and by then the sun was setting and I wanted to shower, and now it's dark, and frankly I'm in my pj's and don't want to put on real clothing to go outside and talk with people.

Ok, so plan for tomorrow. Go to CSPS, work on the Etude, ask lots of questions of my new major – anything I can think of. Go to library in the afternoon and pester Simon for Moore and history help so I can finish Etude, and ask who the primary and CEG directors are (their names, I know who the first one is, on sight). Ask if I can come to his house to introduce myself to his wife and family, possibly Wednesday at lunch or Thursday at dinner since meals are so important and a good time to sit and chat. Ask if anything important in the village is going on. Confirm plans for Friday, go home to talk to the neighbors, and catch the news. Sounds good to me!

News, Primary Schools, House Cleaning

3 April – Kossouka, 9:20pm

World News on the BBC: The US has been at war for a decade. I couldn't believe it when I heard it until I started counting back and realized that for almost half of my life the US has been at war, not including the Gulf War which was when I was too young to really realize what was going on. Crazy. Now they're debating whether it was right or not to intervene in Lybia – did we prolong a “civil war” that had civilian casualties, or are we avenging and preventing further civilian “genocidal” targeting by Colonel Gaddafi's forces? Some pastor in Florida burned a Koran a few weeks ago and now 14 people including 7 UN workers in Afghanistan have been killed after the president there condemned it a few days ago and the protesting Muslim crowd was aimed by people in the crowd towards the UN building. Should the president of a Muslim country have said something? I think so – staying silent is accepting that, idiotic as it was, it's ok to do. But qualify the need for understanding, stress the uniqueness of his actions and condemn him and the action, not all Americans or foreigners, especially not those working for your own country and people. As an American living in a Muslim country, albeit a “soft” Muslim country, I would personally like to thank him for his inconsideration for the consequences of his actions while he is safe in sunny Florida. Next time someone asks me for money or a contact in the US to help them get a visa, I'll give them his address.

Village News: My major packed up her house today and my new major moved in this evening. Sylvie had two pickup trucks piled high worth of stuff, while new guy just had one. I contrasted this with the ginormous (I love that “ginormous” is a recognized word in this processor) moving truck that was maybe 2/3 to ¾ full when my parents moved, floor to ceiling, plus our three cars packed to the brim, with a few dozen boxes left in Denver for later removal to Tucson. Americans have too much stuff, but also bigger houses and furniture that isn't light enough to toss unpadded on top of each other and tied to the bed of a pickup truck. And, I think a surprisingly high percentage of the stuff on the truck was packing materials – every fork was practically wrapped in it's very own cocoon of 2 or 3 sheets of packing paper, ensuring many large boxes with not actually that many items inside. I'm really going to miss Sylvie. I'm finally getting comfortable joking with her! Well, we'll see about the new major. At any rate I need to go make friends so I can charge my laptop if we don't get to leave village soon. I was happy to help her pack and glad to be there to greet the new major. Turns out they're just switching villages, which made the move a little easier because the truck just had to shuttle items back and forth.

My Day: I arrived under the tree between my house and my neighbor's courtyard at exactly 9am, when the inspector for the primary schools walked out the door to come get me for our meeting. He invited me in and we sat on his patio and talked for a good two hours. I finally know the days when school are, for once and for all! For primary schools it's M,T,W,F,S(am), but CM2 kids who have to pass their exam at the end of the year often go to extra classes (formal or informal) Thursday and Saturday afternoon. At the secondary school level school is M-S(am), again with extra sessions Saturday pm if necessary. Whew! We went on to talk about colonization in Burkina (that's why old people are afraid of me because they think I'm here to demand the tariff the French used to levy on all families, except that old people are usually overly respectful and welcoming to me, although I guess it could be because of that), and why people call me “nasara” - apparently they all call each other by race/ethnicity as well. If you don't know a guy and he's a Peuhl, you call him “Peuhl” until you know his name. I said that's always been fine with me, it's when people who know me call me nasara that I feel hurt and upset. He kept repeating that it's normal until they learn my name – I think we spent a good deal of time agreeing on the same thing over and over.

We also talked about some pros and cons to education here. Pro – kids learn a lot about the world around them, at least they have to memorize every country in the world, it's capital and population, and the prominent figures of important ones. The problem – poor use of resources and overcrowding. Kossouka “A” is the worst off in our commune, with 107 students in one classroom of CM2 (traditionally the most crowded because students who don't pass the exam for CEG can retake the year and the exam until they turn 16), but other schools in smaller villages have classes between 40 and 80 students per teacher. The resource use part is evident in Kossouka “D”. The newest school, built last year, has three classrooms and was budgeted about 13.5 million cfa (say, $26,000) by an entrepreneur, but it's already falling apart with cracks in the walls and floors, etc. The going theory is that, with all the people who had to be brought in to consult throughout the process, the school itself got built with low-grade materials, and now a building supposed to last 30 to 40 years is falling apart before it was even dedicated or listed in the national free lunch program. This is also happening in Inou and Kiblega, schools built within the past 10 years that need to be repaired or replaced, instead of those funds building other new schools in Kossouka where they're badly needed to relieve overcrowding (see Kossouka “A”).

Overall, it was very informative and was really refreshing to have a real conversation with someone in my village, albeit one who is a functionaire and not actually from the village. Now I just need to track down the CEG director. Oh, and they are making Kossouka into a lycee (turning the CEG “middle school” into a middle/high school), adding a 2eme next year, but they need to build more classes and a science lab for the science track BAC students. After talking all morning I went home, made lunch (soy-ginger onion rice), and chilled with the cats. I read. I talked to Sunyata and Al. I made a list of all the things I want to do when I get back to Colorado. I talked to Robyn for half a minute, but I'm completely out of unite, so when she texted me asking for advice I couldn't even call for half a second to tell her I'll call tomorrow. Sophie threw up and had diarrhea, but seems to be doing better now – Robyn told me that cats are lactose intolerant so now I'll stop giving them milk so often!

I have a kitten sleeping on my stomach as I type this. Life is good. He's just so cute! The boys got quick baths today and smell so much nicer – at least clouds of dust don't puff off when I pet them. Lion fell asleep this afternoon curled on my stomach, head hanging over my arm – I got a picture. Soon I'm going to have more pictures of cats than of anything else in Burkina! Although a lot of them are pretty good photos, if I do say so myself. I'm reading The Idiot by Dostoevsky, and it's going better than I expected for a monstrously long classic. I can't believe I regularly used to read 500 page books as a middle-schooler – it's so daunting! So far it's been engaging, but is also a book I can put down if I need to do other things, and so I'm only about 90 pages in after a day and a half. I really want to finish The Lord of the Rings (I only brought the first two from the Transit House and haven't been back since), and David promised me that he has the other books in the Shadow series, which has me overjoyed. Still figuring out about visiting KDG around the VAC meeting. I'd like to go before so I can drop off the kittens, but either way I'd be gone from village for the better part of a week (5-6 days), then back for 3-4 days, then gone for 2 weeks for our next training. It's too long to stay in Ouaga or KDG between, but too short to come home and do anything besides say hello and sweep my house out.

Speaking of cleaning the house, now that I've started doing everything outside I had essentially stopped cleaning the house on any kind of regular basis. Then I was in my bedroom changing clothes and noticed the smell. I thought the cats had been peeing on the corner of the bed, but it turned out to be a dead lizard under the corner of my mattress – gross! So I deep cleaned the house (moving the furniture, mopping the floors, dusting everything), stripped the bed and leaned it against the wall, and plan on regularly sweeping and dusting again. It took me a good 3 hours to clean my little house, but now it is termite and dead lizard free. Speaking of dead lizards, yesterday Lion caught his first 2 lizards. He plays with them for an insanely long time before they finally (thank goodness!) die, and then he eats them, head first if you're interested. Sophie stole the second half of the second one and ate it himself. All these things I've missed never having raised outdoor cats before.

Mail on the Bus, New Boss,

1 April – Kossouka 6:36am

Well, normally I wouldn't be up this early, but I had to send my MIF kit on the STAF bus and pick up my anti-malaria meds from the Med Office. I absolutely love the informal mail system here – what a great idea! The postal service is slow (rural offices get and send things twice a week), inconveniently located (the nearest one to my village is 11km away) and somewhat unreliable since, as we've found, people who don't feel like working just don't. Actually, I don't think I wrote down that story – basically, when we were trying to leave Seguenega after IST we all needed money, which we get out of accounts with the post office. It was closed all morning for an inspection, but they said they'd re-open in the afternoon. So we went after lunch and they were all standing there, but were “too tired” after the inspection to do any work, so they were closed again until the next day, when we had wanted to leave early, before the post opened. So we were obliged to wait, Emily and Alicia almost missed their bus, and I had to wait to pay our hotel bill and ended up biking home when it was getting hot instead of early like I had planned.

So instead of the post, you take advantage of the bus system, which, although sometimes quite late, is at least reliable in that you know it will eventually get to it's destination sometime that day. As I found out this morning, it's simple – you take a package to the stop with the name and destination written on it, pay a small amount (500cfa for a small envelope package the size of my hand – seemed a bit much but I wasn't going to complain) and off it goes to it's destination. I also picked up the bag the office sent me yesterday. I missed the incoming bus, but they just left it in the bus office until I asked for it this morning – much more convenient since the morning bus arrives within a 15 minute window, while the afternoon bus typically arrives within a 2 hour window. I know a system like this wouldn't really work in the US – the mail system is reliable and the bus system is under-utilized – but it's pretty handy for Burkina. So now my test is on it's way to Ouaga, and I have enough malaria pills to see me through the next three months.

In local news, the passing of power from my old major to my new major finally happened so now I officially have a new boss. His last name sounds like a mix between Sandwich and Samedi – I think it's Sanwidi, and his first name is Adema. He's young and seems nice enough although not a particularly forceful presence at first meeting. And, wonder of all wonders, I was sitting in my courtyard during the repose and David came to get me for the ceremony. What?! Something important was happening and they came to tell me? No, it couldn't be. Although that reminds me, I need to call Congo and tell him that I have a new major and thus a new contact person. They could call Sylvie in her new village, but then she'd have to call here, and it's just faster to go direct, you know? It wasn't very formal – we sat around and gave little speeches, then Sylvie stood up and handed the official CSPS books over to Adema and that was that – they went off to Seguenega to formalize the paperwork and I went to go get some water so I could shower and cook dinner that evening.

IST, Napusda

26 March – Kossouka, 9:17pm

The rest of IST did get better – I didn't actually improve the amount of Moore in my working vocabulary all that much, but I have a lot of notes that I can study and got a lot of clarification on things I say regularly, like the proper responses to greetings that we didn't learn in stage but everyone in my village uses regularly. I'm glad to be back in village, but it was fun to spend a week with Emily and Alicia and the kittens (yes, they came too!). I'll admit, I will miss getting to watch the news in English during breakfast with the fathers (we stayed at the Catholic Relief Mission), but otherwise I'm glad to be back to my routine.

Today was the marche and the Napusda (I think that's how it's spelled on the polo shirts), the traditional festival/fete held by the cheif every year. I had intended to go with my CSPS staff, but didn't talk to them yesterday and did a little laundry this morning (so I'd have something clean to wear) and by the time I went out, they had left! So I made the interns take me instead. :) We passed the parking lot of motos, bikes, and even 10 (!) cars as we walked up the hill to the cheif's concession. We followed the crowd into the maze of houses, and I was quickly greeted by Sarata (she's one of the cheif's daughters), which made me happy. Her new outfit (that matched the rest of her siblings) was lovely and made me smile because I could compliment it in Moore. We greeted three women from the family, all of whom were touchingly enthusiastic about meeting me and I made a mental note to go back, even if I don't want to be totally associated with the chief (you never know who doesn't get along with the cheif and will thus boycott your projects). We waited with our chairs while a flood of millet heads, woven together at the base so it formed fluffy bouquets, were moved past us before ducking into what surly must be a child's playhouse and out the other side into a huge courtyard. I was stunned at how many people had gathered back here, and couldn't tell exactly if it's normally a part of the concession or if it's just the open place behind it. Our chairs were placed near the other “special” people, although as late arrivals we weren't under the tent and actually were almost in an aisle being used by performers entering and exiting.

The singing admittedly caught me off guard. I saw a guy in incredibly elaborate formal bubu robes, and asked Ken who he was, thinking maybe some kind of dignitary. “That's the singer.” Eh? Lo and behold, he took a microphone and this unexpected high, nasal drone came out of his mouth as he sang – I don't think I've ever heard anyone sing like it before. All I could catch from time to time was “Naaba” (chief) and “Kossouka”, but it was pretty cool with the drummers (playing giant halves of calabashes on the ground in front of them) and the back up singers just droning the same sentence over and over, almost hypnotically. The rich people under the tent started coming up and giving him money while he was singing and it turned into this bizarre production, counting off crisp bills and stuffing them into his hand one at a time to show just how much they were giving. It got worse during later acts, with people being egged on to give more and more, carelessly flipping them into the air at the performer or even sticking them to the facial sweat of the singer and his drummer. One guy was right in my line of site and peeled off 8 2,000cfa bills. While 16,000cfa is only $32, it's an unimaginable amount to hold at one time for most people here. And this guy was peeling these off a stack of bills! The performers were being very well compensated for their time, let's put it that way – I'm sure the groups of dancing girls (especially the one with the little girl showing off amongst her teenage brethren) might have raked in 100,000 cfa. That's the amount given out as a national lottery prize! I later learned that this might not be completely normal, or at least is considered distasteful by the functionares when done in view of people who can't even scrape together 5,000cfa for a hospital bill, but here it is being thrown to the ground in a display of wealth by a few. Very interesting indeed, the giving and the reaction by people who aren't rich but are certainly very well off by village standards.

The dancing was incredible. There was one woman in an otherwise male group and I swear watching her dance made my breath catch. There were a few parts that were quite sexual, but she looked the best when she was just letting her body move in these great, huge, unconstrained swings of movement, arms arcing, feet pounding, knees kicking up high, head flinging back and forth with her motions. It was wild. One of the girls troups (the one with the little girl) were the same – smiling and feeding off each other's energy as they just let loose to the beat of the drums and the balafone. The men's troup was doing acrobatic stunts, building human pyramids and towers while still dancing all the while!

After the performances were over we all left in a cloud of dust and Ken took me to sit in the place were we'd had the CVD meeting. We sat waiting for the chief to greet him, but after an hour of texting Emily continuously we were still no closer to seeing the elusive head of the party, so we gave up and went outside to watch some of the villagers dancing. It was hypnotizing, with very repetitive drum beats and kind of cow-bell-like instrumental additions. We took a detour to meet Ken's family, just the next concession over, where he told me the blacksmiths live. Sweet! We greeted his father, who gave me an entire bag of onions, and then his mother who invited us to eat with them. Thankfully it was rice, and not only that, it was delicious! The sauce was a mystery, but very tasty, and there was some kind of mystery meat (not chicken or goat, but beyond that, who knows) that was very good as well. He told me to come back and chat with them, and I know it will be frustrating at first, but I think I'm going to try and get the nerve up to go again soon. I really want to adopt a family, and be forced to speak Moore, although it'll be hard if no one can translate from time to time. Still, I want a family that won't laugh at me when I screw it up, or at least who laughs in a nice way. But I have to give it a chance, no? Went to chill at the major's for a little, found out she's leaving Tuesday (maybe). I'm bummed, but better while I'm still here for a few days to meet the new one than while I'm away.

In other awesome news, Simon agreed to be my counterpart! I guess if I help him with the library, he's willing to help me with my health projects. And I talked to Odille (my bissap lady) today and she promised me green beans, and once I got home some random woman came and knocked on my door to offer to sell me potatoes (I had been asking around the marche), so now I have beautiful potatoes for dinner!

Site Visit, IST

18 March – Seguenega, 11:00pm

Well, here I am at IST. My site visit went pretty well – Dr. Claude and Michelle showed up a bit later than expected and everyone had left already after baby weighings since it was the day of the marche. So we talked to Boreima (the treasurer of the CoGes, the group that handles all the $ of the CSPS), and visited the major and the mayor after doing the checklist of safety and integration things. While it was kind of like she was there to help, it was also a bit like taking an exam or being evaluated, to the point that I'm pretty sure she had a much more positive view of my situation than the reality. But they brought me a delicious salad and cold water for lunch, and drove me to Seguenega, so I can't complain much.

This language thing is hard. Our LCF, John-Pierre, is super nice and helpful, if a little too eager to speak English, but it's hard being with Alicia. She's amazing, I love her, but her level of Moore is so incredibly beyond mine that she jokes with the people we're talking to and then they look at me and ask if I understand or if I just don't talk. No, sadly, I don't understand, that's why I'm not saying anything, because my Moore is still just at the point of greeting people. I can almost say that I work at the CSPS, but I can't tell you why or what I do there. I don't understand your questions, I don't understand your jokes – trust me, I wish I did, but I don't. And it's frustrating because I know we need to practice and be in the community and such, but frankly it's just like what I do all day every day – I sit and listen to people speak Moore. Now two of the people are white like me, but I don't understand what they're saying either. And while it's nice that they can translate and tell me what a word means, 5 seconds later I've forgotten it, or written it down but still won't be able to remember it without looking. The formal classes are better because I can write stuff down, but doesn't take into account all of the little differences that come up in conversations. So if I could just tape the conversations and get someone to translate it on paper word for word that would be perfect. But the classroom lessons are rather boring and make me long to at least be interacting with people, even though it's incredibly painful. I know that some people never learn their local language, but I really want to – it's killing me that I just cannot seem to shove Moore into my head. I have to learn in an organized manner – I can teach myself French out of a well organized book – so this random list of words and verbs and greetings is just like drowning in paperwork. I keep telling myself it will get better, and I know it will with time and practice, but for the moment language remains a source of frustration.

We watched Friends tonight. I haven't watched an American TV show in 5 months. I miss America-land. And Robyn. And crew. And food, so much. And understanding people and situations and feeling in control of my life. I really think that's what it comes down to – I can't take the complete loss of control that living in this completely new culture entails. It'll happen, I know, but it's hard right now.