Thursday, October 29, 2009

on gratitude

I am home. Well, I'm staying with my little sister and her husband, who have been generous enough to let me use their extra room during this transition. Transition to what? I don't know...
I haven't made any firm decisions yet because I'm still jet-lagged and foggy-brained, but I am thinking of re-enrolling and trying to go to South America. Or maybe I'll stay here and learn to teach yoga. Who knows?

I arrived in LA last Thursday and attended my grandmother's memorial on Friday. I was exhausted and teary, but very comforted by the presence of my family. As I've said before, this whole evacuation has been difficult and jarring, but my family has been so supportive and I feel so grateful.

It's funny being back home. Everything is so clean and organized and well-labeled here. (I love going to the grocery stores!) But I am not experiencing the culture shock that I thought I would. Even after two months in Niger, I was completely overwhelmed by coming home to such vastly different living conditions. Now, maybe since I've done it before, I'm just recognizing the difference without too much surprise.
It's funny how quickly I can fall into old routines and rituals. Even though I have been brushing my teeth outside with a water bottle, squatting over a latrine, and taking bucket baths for the past three and a half months, it's pretty easy to go back to the luxuries of running water, toilets and showers. However, now, when I am doing these things, I am silently acknowledging the change, and I am grateful to be able to perform these rituals in both ways.

People keep asking me what I've learned from this experience. I tell them compassion and patience. (Well, these were things I knew already, but like most people, continually forget. Life is about forgetting and remembering and forgetting again!)
I have also learned how to carry water on my head, how to wash clothes with a washboard, how to use a latrine sans toilet paper, and how to teach math (shout-out to Madame Emily here!)
People keep asking me what is next. I don't know yet. But I will never forget my Peace Corps Guinea experience or the wonderful people I met there.

So I think I'll be leaving this blog for a while, at least until my next Peace Corps adventure, inshallah!
Please send loving vibes to Guinea, in the hopes that a democratic and non-violent government will soon be possible, and that Peace Corps can soon return to help out with the other stuff.
I am thankful to all of you for your support.
Love and peace,

Jess

Thursday, October 22, 2009

on the way home

I am at the Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris after my 5 hour flight from Bamako. It's 7:15 am here and still dark! And it's very cold... 10 degrees Celsius outside. I don't know the conversion for that, but I know it's "butt cold," as my dad would say. So that's pretty weird after about 7 straight months of heat and early sunrises.
I am looking forward to going back to Arizona in the autumn. The heat has ended, but it's not too cold.

So I just changed 20 dollars into about 10 euros and spent all of it on the following three items: a Coke zero, a small water bottle, and 30 minutes online. So expensive. Especially after living on about 1 dollar a day in Guinea and 2 dollars a day in Mali.

I feel disoriented and tired and dehydrated. My last day in Bamako was insane. I had to do a lot of things for my medical and admin clearance to close my Peace Corps service. It was a vrai bordel, quoi!
I was on the edge of tears all day. I guess I was just tired and ready to go and it was hard to say goodbye to my friends. And as uncomfortable and difficult as Africa can be, I cried a little as the wheels of the plane came off the ground. I don't know what it is, this attachment I have to Africa. I know I will be back one day, inshallah!

Speaking of inshallah, I know I picked up all kinds of mannerisms with my speech, especially in French. Instead of saying "d'accord," now I say "awa," which is the same thing in like every West African language-- it means "okay."
I also do the typical African "eh!" to express surprise. Or I say things like "alhamdulilaye," or random things in Fulani, like "si Allah jabi," which is just like "inshallah," or "if God wills it." They say this all the time in Guinea.
Oh and I say "walai," too, which I also picked up in Niger. It's just like "I swear." I'll say stuff like "il fait chaud, walai!" = "it's hot, I swear!"
It's a real wake up call, hearing real French on the airplane. French French. I may have picked up an African accent in French too. C'est grave, walai!

Well I need to go because my 3 euro internet half hour is almost up. See you soon, America.
A bientot, Afrique, si Allah jabi!

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

coming home

I am flying home tonight.
Peace Corps decided to officially suspend the Guinea program. I have decided to come home and re-evaluate my options.
Once I'm home, I can re-enroll and get another assignment. I have decided to do this rather than transfer directly to another country because I don't feel emotionally ready to make such a committment.
The whole experience has been incredibly jarring, and I decided that I needed some time at home before jumping back into another program.

The Peace Corps people from Washington have been helpful and supportive. They are flying me out a few days early so that I can attend my grandmother's memorial service on Friday.

I am looking forward to: seeing my family, eating fresh food, drinking good water, sleeping without a mosquito net, taking a hot shower and getting some good coffee!
See you soon.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

the night of the petrified frog


So it rained all day yesterday. In fact, there was a rather apocalyptic storm that knocked down a pretty large tree in the compound. And I thought rainy season had ended!
It was a beautiful and terrible storm and I wanted to sit outside to watch it, to feel the rain on my face. But it became too violent and I took refuge in my hut, closing the shutters against the rain and the wind.
I was alone in the hut and I felt slightly scared, like a child again, afraid that the thunder would crack the world open and that I would fall into the crack.
Anyway, the rain continued into the night and it was actually chilly outside. I lay in my bed, covered only by a pagne (2 meters of African fabric), which is usually a sufficient cover. Around 4 am, however, I woke up feeling cold and so I reached down for the nasty wool cover down by my feet, which was half on the floor and half on the end of the bed. I pulled it over myself and as I arranged it over my body, I felt something hard in the folds. I turned on my flashlight and saw a petrified frog!
Now I'm no veterinarian, but I'm pretty sure this frog died of dehydration... about a week ago.
So I tossed the frog and went back to sleep.
The end.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

lizards, latrines, and other crazy things

I am still in Mali, still in limbo. I don't want to talk about the Peace Corps politics or about my future because I know nothing about either, so I'll talk about fun stuff like lizards, latrines, ducks, bats, and things of that sort.

So we're living in these little clusters of huts in Tubaniso, which means "village of white people," the Mali Peace Corps training compound. There are pit latrines everywhere, which is pretty normal here in Africa. I have grown used to them, and in some ways, prefer them over western toilets. They are basically holes in the ground. You just squat over them, do your business, and move on.
But I have developped this irrational fear of falling into one.
Well, it's not that irrational because we actually have a Guinea volunteer who fell into his latrine. I mean, not in the hole, because the hole is too small, but his latrine actually collapsed into itself and he fell into this ten foot pit of poo and other disgusting things. He somehow managed to climb out. I have no idea how.
So sometimes I think of him when I'm squatting over the latrine. I look into the hole and see all kinds of unpleasantness. Worms and maggots and bugs and poo. It looks, quite literally, like a pit of hell. I guess it's a bad idea to look down, but I always do. Then I start thinking about the possibililty that the cement on which I am standing might be starting to rot away under my weight. I think about falling in. So I hurry up and do my thing and get out of there.
Oh yeah, but we actually take showers in the latrines too. So my showers are fast. I don't want to linger in there...

So the other day, there was a baby duck in one of the latrines behind my hut. I mean, he wasn't in the poo hole or anything. He was running in circles around it. It was so cute. I hope he didn't fall in.
Frogs, however, are the most regular latrine visitors. I usually have to chase out 3-5 frogs before squatting. Or sometimes, I just let them hang out with me while I'm squatting. Crazy frogs. The other day I was showering and the soapy water wasn't draining out the hole in the side of the latrine. I looked to see why it was clogged, and of course there was a frog sitting there. I wondered if it was dead. It blinked at me. Nope. Just blocking the drain, taking a bath in my shower water. I shooed it away because you know that excess water weight might just crack the cement and the whole thing would collapse.

Oh and there are lizards and salamanders and bats everywhere.

The end.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

day 6 in Mali

We still don't know much about this situation, but a Peace Corps rep from the states is flying in today and we'll be meeting with him tomorrow to discuss our options.
The US Embassy has suspended its work in Guinea, which suggests that Peace Corps will suspend as well.
We learned yesterday that Liberia is willing to take all of the evacuated Guinea math/science teacher volunteers, as they need volunteers to re-open their education program. I think a lot of the education volunteers, new and old, are considering this option.
I don't know much about Liberia, except for the official language is English. I might consider this option as well. Other options include Mali, Togo, Benin and Niger.
I am also considering "interrupted service," which would mean I would go home and wait for another position, possibly in another region. However, if I don't do a direct transfer within the region, I will have to commit to another PST (PreService Training) and two full years.

These options are running through my mind, but I am calm and I know that I will make the right choice when the time comes.
I am a little sick (stomach stuff) and tired, but I have been doing yoga every day, which helps me to feel centered and balanced. After yoga this morning, I sent love all over the whole world!
Did you feel it?

Oh and I put some pictures on my flickr: www.flickr.com/photos/moxie469

Sunday, October 11, 2009

better today

So yesterday was probably my hardest day in Africa, emotionally speaking. But the storm passed, as it always does, and I woke up today feeling strong. I started reading my journal, and I found what I had written on October 6th, the day before I was evacuated to Mali. I was surprised with my own wisdom. Sometimes it's like that. Present Jess says thanks to past Jess for doing something or writing something helpful. So thanks, past Jess. Present Jess will keep working to make it better for a future Jess! So here is what I wrote the other day:

October 6, 2009
I am not attached to any particular outcome. I will go to Mali tomorrow, remembering that I am peace, patience and love. I will accept the present moment and love the present moment. I will take care of myself and be a comfort to others.
I opened Conversations with God, and found this today: "But judge not, and neither condemn, for you know not why a thing occurs, nor to what end. And remember this: that which you condemn will condemn you, and that which you judge, you will one day become. Rather, seek to change those things-- or support others who are changing those things-- which no longer reflect your highest sense of Who You Are. Yet bless all-- for it is the creation of God, through life living, and that is the highest creation."
This applies to my current situation because I was struggling to understand the violence in Conakry, the evacuation, and everything else in my life. I am now making a conscious effort not to judge it, only to help and or change the situations that I can change.

On my last night in Timbo, I sat on my porch alone in the dark. The stars were bright and infinite. The best view of the stars I've ever seen. I am that, I thought. I am the infinite sky and the bright stars and also the fireflies that sometimes look like shooting stars, but they are here on Earth.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

one year later, where will I be?

I think it was one year ago today when I had my Peace Corps interview. I was so nervous, so hopeful I would be nominated. I never imagined that a year later, I'd have already been evacuated after three months of service.
I suppose this shows you that life is completely unpredictable, in and out of Peace Corps. Who knows where I'll be a year from now! I might still be in Peace Corps, somewhere in Africa, or perhaps on another continent. I might be in the US, or even in France. I might look back on this blog and reflect again on how much things change.

For now, I'm still in Mali, completely unsure of what my next step will be.
Today, Peace Corps took us into Bamako to an "American Club" with a pool and tennis courts. I think they wanted for us to relax and unwind.
I didn't feel well today... I think I may be dehydrated. I felt like I got hit by a train. I felt exhausted and inexplicably sad about everything and nothing in particular, but I did swim a little in a sports bra and boxer shorts (I didn't pack my bathing suit in my emergency bag!) My friends in Peace Corps have been incredibly supportive.

From what I understand, some Peace Corps staff from Washington DC will be arriving on Tuesday to tell us more about our options. I will let you know then what's available to me and what I'll decide.

Oh and I have a lot of free time here, so please email me!

Thursday, October 8, 2009

evacuated to Bamako, Mali

After three months in Guinea and one week at my site in Timbo, I have been evacuated, along with all other Guinea volunteers, to Mali.

If you have been following the news in Guinea, you'll know what happened on September 28th in Conakry. I won't go into detail... it was a very sad day. I was in Labe, my regional capital on that day, trying to follow the news. Two days later, I was installed in Timbo, my village, where I finally unpacked after three months of living out of my suitcase in Forecariah. The next day, I trekked up a mountain to call Peace Corps and check in because we were on "standfast." I was told we were being evacuated to Mali, and to pack up an emergency bag, label my stuff, lock my house, and tell my village that I was only going for a conference. (I think they saw through this excuse, as they have had volunteers evacuated in the strikes of 2007.)

Yesterday, a Peace Corps bus picked me up in the morning and we drove for 15 hours to Bamako, where we were warmly greeted by the Peace Corps Mali people. We are staying in small huts at their training site, which is very nice (electricity! internet! showers! ceiling fans!) and is sort of set up like a summer camp.
I don't know how long we'll be here or what the next move is. I don't know whether it will be possible to return and carry out my service in Guinea. I think that we will learn about our alternatives in the next few days. Who knows? Maybe I'll stay in Mali to volunteer here! Or maybe I will go back to the US to wait on something in another region. (?)
When I know more, I'll write more.

For now, just know that I'm safe. Just disoriented, and sorry to leave my village.

I got a new phone number that I emailed to a bunch of you. Call me. Please!
If you don't have the number, ask Joy.