Adventures in Guinea as a Peace Corps Volunteer

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

New Again

It feels so strange to be starting all over again. Would one person with a bit of sanity request a transfer to a site that they have never seen to finish out the last 6 months of their already chaotic Peace Corps Service? The answer is a resounding, echoing, reverberating NO but yours truly is about to embark on this adventure. I assure you this is not a ploy to make my mark in PC history for most sites lived in during a 2 year PC service. Before my vacation to the states, the transition seemed almost sensible, a way to get back to my ideal peace corps experience by living in a smaller village, living a simpler life less complicated by the inventions of modern man (or not so modern anymore) such as electricity and running water.

As of tomorrow, I may feel the curse of my unsettled spirit that has again uprooted me from my perfectly stable life and mansion in the city. What will it take to quell this? Maybe trying to squeeze my double bed (a single did not seem like it would do at the time of purchase) into my new 3.5x4.0meter house in the cocoa fields. Maybe trying to coordinate the movement of all my worldly items from the office to my house myself (while I was in the states and it was determined that I would move, my house was packed up and all items were relocated to my office) because PC does not have resources to help me at this point. Maybe carrying around a small notebook for months at a time to write down people’s names and tearing your mind apart to remember who they are, where they live and exactly who they are related to when asked point blank, don’t you remember me? Maybe working diligently to quelling the suspicions among the villagers that a PCV is NOT in fact a US spy, not there to steal their business (for those business development volunteers) and most importantly not an ATM machine.

Maybe I am a transition freak! The unknown, the challenges, the possibilities, maybe this is my “runner’s high”. Stay posted for the adventures of my new village.

As an important side note, all mail should still be sent to my Ambanja address. Also, reports are that I will have limited cell service in my new village. Looking forward to hearing from you.

Monday, August 27, 2007

The Jinx

Yes, you are traveling internationally. No, it probably will not be smooth. You might sit next to the guy who views an international flight as an all you can drink bar, the newborn baby that has an earache or the person who probably should have bought 2 seats but didn’t. These adventures you complain about at the time but later make great stories. However, it is possible that one person can be jinxed to only one destination and in only one direction?

After an incredibly fabulous 3 ½ weeks in the US, I begrudgingly headed to the airport in TN. I purchased a flight from Knoxville, TN to Midway in Chicago on Southwest airlines. I was very concerned about this portion of my trip. Could Southwest airlines get it’s “cattle” (me being one of them) to Chicago in time for me to get a bus to O’Hare and check in for my long return voyage. Well, mothers know best and again mine was right. I arrived 2 minuets ahead of schedule, quickly found my luggage and even caught the first bus to O’Hare that leaves on the hour. AND this is where my luck ended!

Upon arrival at O’Hare I learned that my already short 1 ½ hours allotted to navigate myself around Charles’s airport in France was cut back to a slim 50 minutes. Still un-phased I spent the next 1 ½ hours people watching from the check-in line. I then proceeded through security for what I would later learn was the first of four times in the O’Hare airport. Granted, the second might have been my fault as I did not have the foresight to determine that there was no actual food inside the gates so this girl on the large American diet could wait no longer and came sprinting out of the gate. I carefully chose what I thought would be my last meal and enjoyed every bite of it. When I returned to my gate, the screen now read that our flight was going to depart at 7PM. Okay, no big deal, a free night in Paris paid for by the airline!

With little warning, the reason for the delay came charging through Chicago in the form of a powerful and prolonged storm. According to reports, trees toppled cars, wire where down, parts of the city were flooded! And here I was still chatting with the same interesting person I met hours ago, a bit tired but ready to tackle any problem. They changed our gate and minutes later a guy squeaks out that our flight was cancelled, we might be able to pick up our luggage (he is not sure where), we can get hotel vouchers (only to be told later that the WHOLE city of Chicago was sold out of hotel rooms) and we should probably return tomorrow (not sure what time, maybe we will leave at about the same time). This is when the lack of sleep and gloominess of leaving all my friends and family behind once again hit me like a freight train. Where did these people want me to go until I might be able to fly out at the same time tomorrow?

Tomorrow did come! No surprise there. However, was this misadventure just another sign that it was not in the cards for me to go back to Madagascar? When I transferred to Madagascar from Guinea it took 4 days of travel through hurricanes and other imposed problems just to traverse the continent. Is this a sign, a jinx? With my mature decision making skills, I decided the coin never lies. Heads I go back, tails I stay, enjoy the weekend in Chicago with Thomas who is planning to arrive in Chicago in a matter of hours to do the triathlon and possibly move back to Cincy. Five flips and two coins later, the universe gave me clear direction, heads only. Even an hour later, the coins fell out of my pocket and both landed on heads! FINE!

With my newfound friend and his strong influence, I was able to get on the 5PM flight on Friday versus the 1AM flight on Saturday morning that everyone else from the day before was being forced to take. As you would probably guess, my flight was delayed 2 hours, with a bonus 1 ½ on the runway. Another promise of a night in Paris! Closely monitoring the screen that displays the map, estimated time to departure and connecting flights, lady luck again struck, my flight from Paris was delayed until 11:10AM and our estimated time of arrival was 10:15! I think this was the estimate before the map showed us doing airplane stunt loops over and around Paris.

After landing at 10:30 and touring the airport via the runway, the plane came to a halt. I shot out of my seat so fast that nobody could stop me, except for the fact that the guy in Paris positioning the stairs was new and was using us as for practice rounds one, two and three. After sprinting through the terminal and accidentally avoiding passport/customs check, I finally found my way out to the bus to change terminals. Time check 10:57! One vital mistake, a big groggy from 2 days travel, I forgot that I filled up my water bottle in Chicago and tried to make it through security, there was no fooling them. So, valuable minutes ticked away as they searched my bag and properly disposed of my dirty smelling Chicago water fountain H2O. No longer a sprinter but a marathon traveler at this point, I arrived at the gate at 11:03 more than breathless only to be told the obvious…you are late! Watching as a happy family entered the plane just ahead of me, the flight attendant continued to reprimand me. Finally, so confused and shocked by my poor French she let me in after consulting with a more kind and generous employee. I was to be the last one on! Ironically, we sat at the gate for another hour.

Between meals, nodding off and a culture and history lesson provided by my seatmate from Lebanon, the 10 hour journey flew by (ha ha). Yet the inevitable finally came in the Tana airport, my baggage of course did not have the ability to run from terminal to terminal with me. After watching everyone load up their stuff, I returned to the PC Meva with only my small carry on backpack. Exhausted and not so sure about Madagascar after my usual yelling match with the taxi drivers that I was not a tourist and I was not paying the inflated price I went home and slept until noon! That evening, I was lucky enough to get a PC ride to and from the airport since the new administration officer was flying in and my baggage even came! I’M BACK! Let the adventures begin.