The Village Surrounded by Mountains.....

Lelouma…when I rolled into the village in a bush taxi filled with 16 people (a car that would seat 8 in the states) it was breath taking. I guess that would be if I wasn’t already holding my breath so I could fit in the car! The village is surrounded by mountains in all directions. I found my heaven in which I will call home for the next 2 years. I had my concerns after meeting my counterpart also fondly known as the fairy godmother because of her shiny pink outfit complete with head wrap BUT all that faded away as we rolled over the mountains on our way in.

So my 1st day there was quite eventful. Actually, I didn’t get there on Sunday as planned because there were not enough people to fill the taxi when I arrived in Labe at 1PM. I guess all 14 were holding out for the next day. Anyway, my counterpart and the people I kept meeting didn’t seen to know where my house was. A slight problem but just a matter of time before I met the right person. Little did I know time was of utmost importance for this situation BUT I will get to that. We got out of the taxi and my counterpart insisted we start meeting the officials. Well one of the officials correctly pointed out that I was dirty and needed to go home and change before I met anyone else. So my counterpart trudged me to her house where I took a bath and (bucket that is) and put on some clean clothes. I knew we were going to some community event at 4PM. We left the house at 4:15 and stopped to greet a ton of people and arrived @ 4:55. This was no tone bit of a problem since all of the chairs in the fromt6 were empty and only the children and women were there. Still not sure what the event was for or if I had to speak I stood around and waited. At about 5:30 150 people packed the lawn and the front porch “stage” was almost full.

Apparently not enough as they invited me to sit on stage with the officials as their key white person not to mention only 1 in the community. The head official arrives and the event begins. One person speaks in French which is then translated to Pular. I understood very little and after 1 hour I was still unsure what the occasion was but by this time sure it was not me. Suddenly I was jerked out of my daydream when I heard “Madam Andrea avec le Corps de la Paix”. After several seconds which felt like 20 minutes of freaking out, I stood up and gave the token Guinean 2 handed wave and sat right back down. Now that I know the reason for the event I am pretty sure that was the correct action but at the time I was not so sure. A few more speeches drag on and event is over. Afterwards still clueless I ask my counterpart and she tells me it was for the installation of the mayor. The may is probably the most important people in the community (also important information for later in this story).

The whole community parades to the Mayors house for greetings. At this point, I finally find someone who knows where my house is (btw this is not a big town, it should not have been that hard since the PCV I am replacing lived there). Before I can see my house we eat the staple food of my region with the Mayor and his family. Next we visit my house which is awesome. There is another family that lives within the same walled area as I. They determine I cannot stay there because it has not been cleaned. I ask my counterpart and push the issue to at least stay at the maison de passage BUT she will have none of that. Normally that would not have been a huge issue but her toilet is 5 houses down. This later becomes an issue. I will spare the details but just say I have not been that sick in country yet as I was that night. She is freaking out and decided we have to get medicals help. In her panic she also decided that the food at the mayor’s house made me sick and then the next day tells all the officials. I am pretty sick still the next day and need to get to my house where there is a toilet nearby. In my desperation I ended up walking 20 with all my baggage. The other alternative was for her to find my family so they could send a car which would have taken hours.

I had not yet met some top officials and was not up to the walking so she decided it was a good idea to bring them to me. I was laying in my bed feeling really rough when slowly they started arriving. They are all very concerned about what I will eat and my health. I spit out a few phrases about how beautiful Lelouma is and crash back in bed.

The next day I am healthy and able to really appreciate Lelouma. I sat with my family (all women) in the AM for a bit. Sat being the correct phrase as only 1 of 6 speaks French. After that I went for a walk and t6ook some pictures of the village. I will probably post these in March. No mater which way I walked I ran into trees, steep rocky cliffs and soaring birds. Life is perfect! I took a quick walk through the market and met a guy that had to come to my house the day before. He took it upon himself to entertain me for the day and evening. I met everyone and anyone in the community. I ate lunch with thee director of women’s promotions visit 3 different women’s groups just to name a few highlights. I came home and ate right and sauce with my family….yeah they don’t eat a ton of fish in the Fouta. I also spent a lot of time that day explaining it was not the food that made me sick…it was the water.

Right now I am hanging out in Labe and enjoying the luxury or a real shower, flush toilet sometimes, internet, pizza, beer and the ability to receive phone calls. It is back to the training site tomorrow. I finish training on March 30th and will be sworn in an official PCV!!! After that back to Lelouma for me!!!!

Faire du Sport

If there is one think that has made my host famaily dad proud of me in the last month it was that I was going to faire du sport… « play sports » or in my case go running. I am not sure if it was because I finally got out of bed before the other women in the house finished sweeping the dirt in the front and back yard or because the neighbors saw his fote “white person” running around the neighborhood at a really riduculous time in the morning. In any case, I know the reasons are definitely not that I run around in shorts that don’t cover my knees (thights are considered highly sexy here) and that I might burn calories and maybe loose a pound or 2. In fact, my family drew the conclusion that I was getting fatter after starting my expercise program.

It was a weekend, a time to relax and shake off the business of the week and kick back. After coming in from a French study session (I am sure that is what I told them) I greeted my fater as usual in appropriate Guinean fashion. We have this routine down by now BUT today he hit with a new one. He said (in French) Ma Youla you are so fat. So after 3 weeks of living with my family I am suddenly fat. Me taking my laid back weekend approach said okay, thanks in my best French. I often use this new “fact” to my advantage when I cannot eat anymore rice and fish (head) sauce. “Wow, I am fat, I just cannot eat another bite”. This is usually accompanied by me puffing out my stomach as far as it will go and pounding wildly on my pouched stomach. Fortunately or not, being called fat is a compliment in Guinea. The fact this compliment came 3 weeks after they started feeding me can be translated into, we made you fat, you are healthy and well fed. As a side note, for those of you wondering, I am the same size I was when I arrived.

Now down to the imporant” details of my life. The next two years will be spent in a village/town called Lelouma. It is supposex to be a major tourist destination. Although, I cannot honestly say that prior to arriving in Guinea I could not think of any town in a counry that I could not find on a map as a major tourist destination. Yes, my geography skills are bad in all fairness to Guinea. So what draws the masses? The words of the educated say that the town is surrounded by mountains and very close to the famous waterfalls. The long and short of it all is that my bakcyard is an untouched haven of natural beauty. Some suggestions for my work where to promote ecotourism (share the beauty with others), take youth on a hike (are they joking or did I just find the most perfect job ever) and as I read on much to my delight it said work with women’s cooperatives and assist the local credit union.

This news lead to a wek long high which puts me right here in Mamou on Thursday night. The next week will possibly be the most terrifying week yet starting with a workshop with my counterpart (the person I will be working with for the next 2 years). This event within itself is not terrifying BUT the fact that I can only express myself as a 5 year old in French is. In addition, all classes for the next 2 days are in French. After this lovely experience, I will jet off with him/her to my site for a few nights. Sure, I don’t know the details regarding my visit to Lelouma which may elimiate some of the need for worry right now. I will be replacing another volunteer but unfortuately for me he is leaving at the end of the month and has already started hiking around the country for his last hurah! After my site visit I will go to the regional capital, Labe, spend a few days (I hope) and head back to Forecariah with other PCTs in a bush taxi...my first experience.

Jetting back to past...last weekend. I went on a cultural outting with the other volunteers who did not think driving a total of 6 hours for a 4 hour beach expedition was riduculous. Guinea is on the coast but the key is find a spot where they are not pumping raw sewage in the water and it is safe enough to swim. This better explains why we drove almost to Sierra Leon to get to the beach. The drive was amazingly beautiful and terrifying at the same time. We zipped down the unpaved “bike paths” and over “natural” speed bumps and through green plantations until we were not physically able to drive the route any more. All of us piled out of the bus only to cross a “bridge” made of twigs thatched together. Imagine this, a single file line of 30 Americans marching through a small viallage with Guinea national music blaring in the background. Yes, we paraded thorugh the town only to have ½ of the town follow us to the “beach” or ocean. Much to our surprise when we arrived at the ocaen we were greeted by a ship the size of the titanic that has washed up on shore and rusted out. Upon further investigation, we noticed that the water was going out and the sand/mud was black. However, we were at the beach and not going to let a few small details get us down.

The women slowly and unsurely took off thier skirts to expose their thighs, not quite sure what response this might elicit from the town folk. Hoaving been unable to fully submerge our bodies in water since arriving in Forecariah (I cannot fit in a bucket of water) we darted off to the ocean. Quickly people began to sink into the mud/sand. First it was the toes which made for hard walking, then the feet, then up to the ankle. The towns people were quick to point out the swimming was much better near the beached titanic. So we took the advince and trudged to the other end of the beach, but not before an intense mud fight was launched and all of us had been significantly cleansed in mud. After almost 15 minutes of walking/wading out to the deepest spot water was up to my knees. Me being a gigantic 5.2 this was hilarious. We played in the water for over an hour engaging in psydo swimming, belly flops and frisbee. However, hunger overcame us all adn we went in for lunch. After lunch, various activities such as walks on the beach, frisbee with the locals and of course soccer occured. Prior to us engaging in these physical activities we were their source of entertainment. An invisible line was drawn in the sand in which neither of us crossed. The difference was that we were thier television. Apparently, a simple activity such as eat lunch, reading a book or lying on a towel where of utmost entertainment.....spawning FOTE TV.

Already 30 mintues late for dinner must go and see if I can get some food.