Happy Halloween from Labé!

So my time in Conakry was well spent, I managed to upload like 180+ pictures to my facebook (these aren't as small as the ones last time, sorry about that), and have a long online chat with Tim and several shorter chats with other people (Lyndsey, Pookie...). I only got a couple of hours of sleep, but it was worth it. The next morning I woke up early, had a talk with our doctor about being part of the communication chain for my nearby voluteer who developed 3 allergies (one pretty severe) to things here, apparently they decided to keep my village open to have someone near her "just in case". She and I had a good laugh about this, my fate was sealed when she stepped on a bee 3 months before I got to Guinea. We then got going to Labé only a bit behind schedule. The car ride was sort of uncomfortable, but very fast (only 7 hours....in a bush taxi it would have been closer to 10, or so I'm told).

The Fouta (another region of Guinea in the mountains/highlands) is beautiful. Everything here is very different from Basse Cote. The vegetation is much less tropical (kinda reminds me of Oregon a bit). The weather is much cooler (I'm wearing a long sleeve shirt), and the people are different somehow. Also, this city has more infrastructure than Boke (I think it's a bit bigger, but also since it's colder here people are better about having roofs and whole walls....logically this also leads down the path of electricity and running water). The volunteer house in this region is also really nice, it's actually a hotel for complicated bureaucratic reasons, and their office is very nice (I managed to grab a few books from their library to take back with me to site). I'm excited to spend Halloween here, and I'm excited to take part in my first meeting for Voluteer Action Commitee VAC - of which I'm the representative for my region (basse cote) from my training group. I'll write more about both these things when I get internet again (maybe Sunday in Conakry, if not next time I'm in Kamsar).

I'm not looking forward to a repeat bush-taxi trip to Conakry (especially since roads here are curvier and it's a longer trip), but I'm probably going to go alone again because nobody is headed back as soon as I am (I'm hoping to attend the meeting on Saturday and still be in my village to teach Monday morning...this may not happen since I may not be able to leave Labe until late Saturday (getting into Conakry at night...no), and I wouldn't be able to make it from here to my village in one day on Sunday. Well, worst case scenario I fall behind a bit with 9eme, but I figure I can just hang out at the school later in the week until someone doesn't show up to teach them, and I'll give my lecture then.

Alright, until next time!

What a day...

Alright, greetings from Conakry. I made it here today all on my own all the way from Bintimodia. I was originally planning on coming down with some other volunteers but plans changed, and I sort of got stuck going it alone this first time. I'm glad though, because now I have a much better idea of how to get around in bush taxi's, and how to find my way around Conakry (more than one road? what!??).

So I left my village around 8:30 this morning, I wanted to leave at 6:30 or 7 to get an early start, but I waited on my front porch with my bags, watching the only road out of my village, and didn't see a car until 8, and didn't get a car to stop and take me the 11km to the main road until 8:30. Luckily, I got a car headed for Conakry on the main road soon after getting there at 9. It was a mini-van style bush taxi (This means three in the two front bucket seats, four in the middle seat, and 3 in the back row). I took this car most of the way, and it was relatively comfortable, since we weren't full to capacity. I made the mistake of getting in and leaving without first settling on a price with the driver - so I spent most of the ride wondering how it was going to play out when we got to Conakry if the driver tried ripping me off (I mean, I would already be in Conakry, so what could he really do?) luckily, this didn't happen.

What did happen was, after I'd been sleeping for about an hour (maybe on a large Susu woman's shoulder? I'm not sure...) we stopped and I was told we were switching to another car. We were about 3/4 of the way to Conakry at this point. I was kinda groggy, and had no idea why we were changing, but since I still hadn't paid for my fare, I figured - what the hell. We got into the other car (a much tighter squeeze - smaller car, 2 more people) and I realized this was as far as our driver was taking us, I paid him a reasonable fare (45,000 GNF) to cover what he drove plus what the new driver was going to do to take me into Conakry. The new driver took us the rest of the way and about an hour later, we were in Conakry.

I'd been in Conakry only a few times before, and never by myself. I knew the name of the general area I was going to (the name of the market closest to the Peace Corps office). My driver kept dropping people off and kept driving, and I just crossed my fingers and looked out the window for familiar landmarks. Eventually we got to the "end of the line" where he told me to get off and look for a taxi headed to where I was going (he didn't want to get off the highway) and gestured to where I would find them. I walked that direction, asking a few people for the taxi gare that would go where I was headed. I eventually found it and had to "deplace" - buy all the seats in the taxi to the destination - and I had the driver take me where I was going.

I recognized the market, but I knew the office was next to a hotel (or I thought so anyway...) so I asked the driver to keep going. We got past the hotel, and everything was unfamiliar, so I just told him to drop me off there. I called a volunteer I knew was already at the house, and she gave me some directions that got me a little more lost (she didn't understand where I was when I explained where I had gotten off). I eventually figured out my way back to the market I had recognized, and from the market I got my bearings, and walked to the office. All of this was about a 3 km walk after a 7 hour travel day at about 3pm on a hot afternoon with my duffel bag.

I made it to the Peace Corps house though. I since went to a supermarket and got mouse glue (to spread on a piece of cardboard to hopefully get rid of my mouse infestation) and some blue cheese (12,700! a steal for real cheese here!). I then had a sandwich with half my block of blue cheese and 3 "brochette" beef(?) kabobs from the market on half a baguette (oh my god, cheese! non-fish meat!). I've since spent like 5 hours on the internet here, chatting with Chris, Jeanette and Cate. It's so nice to have good, free, reliable internet!

Anyway, I'm going to take a break, have a shower (holy crap, hot shower!), and come back to this. I can always sleep in the car tomorrow (7-10 hour car ride tomorrow - luckily this will be in a Peace Corps car).

First Week of School

Alright, so posting last week here was a bust, I paid for an hour of internet, and spent an hour trying to upload the previous entry (which I’m assuming I’ve been able to post by now, if you are reading this – the next intended entry) and failing due to stupid computer errors (the date on the machine was set to Jan 1, 1990, so all the websites kept having security license errors (because they weren’t valid for 1990, they were valid for 2008) and I couldn’t edit the date and time because this “client” workspace doesn’t give me administrative clearance….of course not that I could explain this to the people who were running the internet café, since they don’t seem to really get computers as much as they should.

Anyway, end of rant. Hopefully when I use my 30 minutes that I paid for I will be able to publish both these entries and check my e-mail. I will be going to Conakry in the not to distant future so I can use the internet at the bureau which is just about guaranteed to be working. Hopefully I can post some pictures then too.

So, another week, another set of adventures. This week was the start of school. I taught two 2 hour sections of 9th grade chemistry on Monday (8-10, 10-12). Tuesday was two 2 hour sections of 10th grade chemistry followed by two 1 hour sections of 9th grade English (8-10, 10-12, 12-1, 1-2, with only a 15 minute break in the middle of the 10-12 class). Wednesday was two 1 hour sections of 10th grade English (12-1, 1-2). I had a really good time. Despite it being the first week and the fact that my English classes were combined into one large class (about 60 students), I really enjoyed teaching. I reviewed balancing chemical equations in both my chemistry classes – 10th grade got much farther than 9th – but that’s fine because I need to review more material with them before starting on actual 10th grade stuff. I also taught the same English lesson to both 9th and 10th grade, which is something I will continue to do since this is all of their first exposure to English (This week was “Introductions- Getting to know each other” – Hello, how are you?, I’m fine, what is your name?, my name is Federico, What is her/his name?, etc). Next week is the alphabet A-M.

Teaching chemistry is fun, because I like chemistry and generally – so far, my students have seemed at least semi-interested. But teaching English is a blast because the students actually have a strong desire to learn it. To them, learning English is getting them one step closer to going to the states and/or getting a good paying job in Guinea. It’s also a way for them to understand some of their favorite music (Akon, Sean Paul, R. Kelly, Lil Wayne, um….that’s all that comes to mind now). So in class they’re very attentive, they get rowdy but quiet down when I ask (yell) at them to (they didn’t take me that seriously in English class until I kicked someone out for talking while I was teaching…while I’m glad they enjoy the class and find it fun, I can’t let them forget that it’s still a class and they still need to follow the rules). Anyway, the best part was seeing that my students are teaching their siblings and parents some of my classes (I had a few little kids and one older woman come up to me and say “good afternoon” and then walk away laughing). This will be a nice way for the knowledge to get out to the community even if the class is only for the 9th and 10th grade kids.

Otherwise, life has been pretty much the same. I made curtains for my doors and windows so that I can keep them open without kids peeking in while I’m changing/sleeping/eating/breathing. It also makes a more firm barrier at the door. Usually people wouldn’t walk into your house without asking, but when I had my door open with no curtain people would pause, then walk right in. Now they get to the curtain and call out & I meet them outside.

I also finally made it out to my village’s closest market, Coliah (sp?). It’s on the main road – so it’s about 11km away, but it’s very large – maybe about the size of the Forecariah market. I was able to get some eggplants (I was desperately craving vegetables, it’d been 3 weeks since I could remember eating anything besides red-oil fish-head sauce with rice). Unfortunately, eggplants and onions was all that market seemed to have in terms of vegetables. I got some cucumbers today from Kamsar’s market (along with bananas, guavas, & potatoes). Hopefully I can make a tuna cucumber lime salad later when I’m feeling vitamin deprived (not that cucumbers are a shining example of nutrient rich foods, but still).

Anyway, hopefully all of you are doing well. I’ve been trying to write letters to as many of you as possible. I have a US mailbox that I can use here in Kamsar – the address is on my Facebook, or you can post a comment and I will try to e-mail it to you. This means you can send a letter to a Pittsburg address and it will find its way to a mailbox here in Guinea that I can check about once a week or so. I can also send letters out, so if you want one, let me know. Paulina, recibi tu carta la semana pasada, pero aun no he podido mandar una respuesta – voy a pedirle a mi mama que me mande timbres internacionales gringos para poder escribirte a ti y a mi tia lupita.
Alright, I’m gonna try posting this now, and then try checking e-mail.

p.s. – Student notebooks here have paper covers with various famous people on the cover (99% of the time it’s a soccer player – my lesson planning book has David Beckham playing for Real Madrid on the cover). This week I saw (and bought) a Barack Obama notebook. I sought it out after seeing a couple of my students with notebooks with his face on them (There are at least 3 different styles). I also saw an umbrella with his face all over it in Conakry, but alas I already owned an umbrella. Don’t forget to vote, even I managed to send a federal absentee write in ballot (not that it will ever make it there or get counted…but I tried).

Kamsar entry number two

Alright, Kamsar entry number 2. I came to Kamsar last week as well, but the internet was down so I wasn’t able to post anything or check e-mail. However, I did manage to meet up with 5 other volunteers from the area who all agreed on meeting then. With their help I got to know the “Patron” part of Kamsar that we all take advantage of. This is, in fact, the good internet café, the other one apparently is spotty (then again this one didn’t work last week…ah well, c’est la Guinée). I also found the pastry shop and the hotel where the US mailbox is (sending out another set of letters today) and where there is an amazing swimming pool (I’m gonna go for a swim after I finish up here with the internet). The other nice thing about last week was getting up the courage to get off the road and step into a small Kamsar market (luckily, unlike most Guinean markets there is a little more walking space, so I was able to walk my bike with me while I shopped). I bought a cheap plastic basket and used some zip ties (second best $1 item I brought to Guinea, my cheap swiss army knife being the best) to strap it to my rack and was able to carry some pots, mugs, and bananas home. Today I went one step further (or several steps deeper) and went into the really big market where I got some guavas, a ton of bananas (For cheap too, the lady was trying to rip me off by charging 4,000 for about 10 bananas, then a girl yelled at her in Susu, called her a thief, and told me it was 1,500 (about $0.30)), some cooking oil, a kerosene lamp (the candles I’ve been burning are really inconsistent and more expensive than kerosene), and a good padlock for my front door (I don’t know where the other key to my current padlock is, so I’m replacing it). I chatted with the padlock vendor and he seemed really nice (he told me I was attractive, which I’m a bit confused about, especially since I was covered with mud and sweat after my bike ride). I also stopped in to the photocopy store next to the internet place and got my journal copied from where I left off last time I sent it to Tim. There’s a lot there, so I will probably send it in two installments, one this week one next, or it might not go through the Kamsar mailbox regulations. Also, I had a really cool moment, my first non-in-Bintimodia person I knew. A teacher from my school who met me at the Emploi de Temps meeting (Monday, when we all decided who was teaching what and when…more on this later), came into the photocopy store and chatted with me for a while about school business. I think the shop owner was a bit surprised that 1, I knew any average (non-“Patron”) guinean, and 2 – that I was a teacher here. Anyway, I have too much to say and I am anxious to get my interneting out of the way so I can go have lunch and swim a bit, so I’ll just summarize the last 2 weeks of my journal, since I have it sitting right here anyway….
After the last time I posted, I biked home. I hadn’t found anywhere to eat anything (I was biking through the village around 2pm when everyone is at the mosque for Friday prayer) and so I hadn’t consumed anything that day besides water. I stopped and got a sack of bisap (very sweet hibiscus tea (agua de Jamaica super dulce), usually sold by younger girls by the side of the road, it comes in small tied-off bags that you bite a hole into) and continued on my way. I was worried I wouldn’t make it home (biking 40km in one day on an empty stomach in the African heat…pas bon!) but I got there eventually. The road had a few more forks on the return voyage since it split off to all the small villages in the area, so I had to keep asking for directions whenever I got to a fork, but it was fine (On the ride home, I pondered the book that I may write one day about my time here, and I thought “Bintimodia kira masen be” (“Show me the road to Bintimodia” in Susu) would be a good title – remember I was dehydrated and semi-delirious). Then I was home for another week, I read a ton (I’m keeping a list of all the books I read here, I’m up to 18 now since July, 10 of them in the last 2 weeks), and sit on my front porch and say hi to people. Mostly the village is starting to get used to my presence, they don’t stare quite as much, they greet me by name, some of them know me better and ask how I’m doing and how I’m enjoying my time here. Kids don’t harass me quite as much (though I still get asked for money – I’ve decided that the best way to deal with it is to tell them it’s THEM who need to give ME 100 GNF – they tend to get a kick out of that). I met the counterpart to the first Bintimodia volunteer William (c. 2001) a health extentionist who apparently made a CD of him playing guitar and singing in Susu about AIDS and HIV prevention and nutrition, etc. His counterpart seems really nice, I might try to work with him if I need someone other than M. Diallo for a project. There are a few people who get annoyed that I don’t remember their name yet, but most people are happy that I’m trying.
I did my laundry (I’ve now done my laundry twice), which was a big accomplishment for me. In Forecariah my host-sister would not let me do my own laundry, handing me something to eat and ordering me to sit down while she washed it for me. This was very nice of her, and it was great to hand her dirty clothes and get clean, dry, folded laundry later, but I didn’t join the Peace Corps to have someone wash my dirty boxers. SO, I went to the pump, got my water, set up my washboard and basin, used some natural palm oil soap, and scrubbed the heck out of my clothes on the washboard. I was half-expecting the kids of the village to come and watch the foté wash clothes, but nobody seemed to care that much. A few women said hi to me, and a couple offered to help, but I told them I could do it, thanks. I’m glad to be able to throw at least a small wrench in the “men don’t do housework” mentality that exists here. Afterwards I hung my clothes up to dry – I really like the smell of line-dried clothes. Bounty has nothing on a Guinean breeze.
I discovered that the loud music that I’d been hearing at night on Wednesdays was not just end-of-ramadan parties, I live across the street from a nightclub. Yes, my village doesn’t have a market, you can’t buy phone recharge cards, you can’t really get anything here, but we have a nightclub that runs their ENORMOUS speakers off a generator. This would be bad enough by itself, but, of course, in Guinea dance music is very very VERY much the same. They have a couple of songs that they play all the time, most of them last a good half hour, and repeat the same techno beat in the background while an African drum beat plays in a 30 second loop. AND, they have like 3 or four other songs that they love (Akon is huge here), so you hear 10 different (bad) remixes of the same (bad) song in one night. Ah well, take the good with the bad right? Maybe once I get to know more people in my village I can charge my phone at the nightclub off their generator (currently I charge my electronics in Kamsar).
I commissioned a table and 2 shelf units through my Guinean friend Thierno in Boké, it was kinda expensive, but would have been way more if I’d gone myself. Hopefully these can be delivered via a peace corps car on the next mail run, and I can put my books, clothes and food somewhere other than the floor and that clothes line I have in my room.
I had another trip to Kamsar last week, which I’ve written a bit about already. The bike to Kamsar was pleasant because I knew what to expect. The one snag was when, in a small village, I biked into a clearing with 30 or 40 small kids (ages 3-8 or so). Now, here’s the thing, kids here are adorable, but when they see me they FLIP THE F**K OUT and run screaming “FOTE! FOTE! FOTE! FOTE!” as loud as they can. This is manageable when it’s one or two, or even 10, 30-40 was a disaster. I slowed down (big mistake) and debated turning around, but then I was already getting swarmed, so I just biked through them hoping they would be smart enough to get out of my way. They weren’t, so I had to maneuver around them while trying to go fast since the ones to my sides and behind me were grabbing at me. Once I got clear of them all one of them threw a muddy stick at my shoulder. I’m proud to say I had enough self-control not to get off my bike and throw it back at him, though I thought about it. The rest of the trip was nice, it was cloudy so I didn’t get too hot.
The bike back was nice, I’d eaten, so I wasn’t feeling weak, and again, I knew what to expect. Before I knew it I was back in the canoe crossing the river to get into Bintimodia.
A couple of days later I had a hard time feeling lonely and isolated again, some days I don’t want to leave my house (kids screaming at you gets old, when adults do it, it’s just obnoxious), I got to the point of boredom that I wrote a letter using a stencil to outline every letter – so it would take up more of my day, I ended up throwing it away halfway through and writing in my journal instead. In addition to isolation, I was really bored. I was out of books to read except the book I’m currently reading (Einstein: The life and times – an 800 page biography) which I was then sick of. My broom was broken (I had gotten a new broom-head in Kamsar and tried using my old broomstick in it, but it didn’t work, and so I had nothing to clean with), I had nowhere to put things so I couldn’t organize anything. I don’t have a rake so I couldn’t work on my yard, it had rained hard the night before and somehow a bunch of water got into my kitchen covering all my canned goods with dirty water (I suspect it came through my roof – which means it filtered through the crawlspace which I believe is infested with mice and bats, definitely mice from the scurrying I hear). Generally I was having a bad that. These happen, but are fortunately rare. Usually writing in my journal makes me feel better (having a medium to write out my problems makes me look at them more analytically and I realize they’re not so bad).
The next day I was the meeting to decide teaching schedules. It was a mess (or rather, it was a Guinean-style meeting – which from an American perspective, is a mess). I was told 8am, I knew that times here are very …. relaxed, so I showed up at 8:15, armed with a book to pass the time. Around 9am, I went to my principal’s house because nobody had shown up yet, we hung out on his front porch, around then more teachers started showing up so that by 9:45 most of the ones who eventually made it (roughly half the teachers) were there. We chatted, there was a prayer, we ate, and around 10:30 we went to the school to start the meeting. Everyone stood up and shouted at each other at the same time – my principal was in another room dealing with some other business. The teachers argued for about an hour, and then, slowly, a schedule started forming (very meticulously neat) on the chalkboard. Everyone argued over which color chalk to use to make the lines….eh allah! I was told I was going to teach 7th, 8th, and 9th grade chemistry. I up to this point had been very quiet, but I got up, and in true Guinean style shouted back at everyone else that I was going to teach 8th, 9th and 10th grade, because the 10th graders were preparing for their big exam and they needed a teacher who could teach them well (I was more subtle than that, but not much more). They agreed, and it went up on the board, after while it was all set, and then my principal came back and we discussed the schedule some more. He and the director d’études sort of ganged up on me, and talked me into teaching English (generally middle-schools don’t have English in the curriculum, but my principal wanted the 9th and 10th grade students exposed to it so they could be more ready when (if) they went to high school. I think it’s a good idea, but I don’t really know how to teach English, so I was hesitant. They insisted, and I figured it couldn’t hurt, so I agreed and am now teaching 2 9th grade sections of chemistry, 2 of English, 2 10th grade sections of chemistry, and 2 of English. Chemistry is 2 hours per week in one sitting, English is one (or it is now at my school anyway). So I teach a total of 12 hours per week to the same 4 classes. The nice thing is that I’ll see the same students for 3 hours a week, so I will hopefully get to know them pretty well, and will more quickly figure out who is struggling because of math issues, who has language issues, who’s just lazy, etc.
I spent most of the rest of the week reading and getting some stuff together for class, then yesterday, the mail run came. I got two packages – one from my dad, another from Tim. My mom’s packages have yet to arrive, I’m wondering if perhaps the first one she sent has gotten lost…. Anyway, I got tons of great food from my dad including a big thing of Gatorade mix, 2 boxes of cheez-its, some doña maria mole sauces, some candy (gummi worms got eaten by mice en route, but Mexican candy and the candy corn made it ok, some fruit loops, some Mexican hot sauce, and a hair clipper set (which I need to charge in Boké or Conakry before I use it, I cut my own hair here because a Guinean haircut is someone shaving your head to the skin with a razor blade). Tim’s package had a nalgene bottle, a bunch of Cliff bars in assorted (Delicious) flavors, some cheez-its, some postcards, some energy gels for biking, good pens, and some other goodies. I also got a lot of mail from PC including the newsletter (in which I found out that one of my training mates has decided to go home after being at site for 2 weeks, which is unfortunate, I hope everything goes well for him in the states).
Alright, that is the general update. I’m glad to have figured out that I can use the computers in the internet café for free as long as I buy internet time. I can then type up stuff like this in MS Word, and then upload it when I punch in my internet code (thus saving the internet time for actual browsing). This means I can pre-type e-mails and posts and not need to economize so much on writing later on. Photo-uploads will have to wait until Conakry though….assuming I find a USB cable to use. Alright, that’s all for now.

After a 90 minute bike ride through the jungle....internet!...sorta

Ok, so I’ve made it to Kamsar to use the internet, after an exciting bike ride from Bintimodia. I was dropped off on Monday at noon with all my stuff that I’d gotten in Conakry (buckets, washboard, some food, etc) and all my luggage, and I waved goodbye to the Peace Corps car, which I would not see again for 2 weeks when they bring me my mail. I was alone in my village for the first time, and I was going to stay there.

I settled into my house as best I could, which involved a lot of sweeping (tons of dirt and animal (rat? mouse? bat? chicken?) droppings). I also had to set up my mosquito net and I felt pressured to go out and greet people/elders in the community to start integrating as soon as possible. After 3 hours of half-finished unpacking/cleaning tasks and feeling alone, I sat down, wrote 3 pages in my journal, felt way better and then got back to work, in a much more focused and effective manner. I got my mosquito net set up so that whenever I decided to go to bed, I wouldn’t need to worry about hanging rope or nailing stuff to the ceiling in the dark by candlelight. I then walked to the Imam’s house (I’d already greeted the village elder, the sous-prefet, and my principal) saying hello and introducing myself to as many people as possible along the way. I mostly ran into women and children cooking over charcoal in their front yards, so I did most of my introductions like this: “Parlez-vous Français? Non? (shit) I nu wali, Tana mu fegnen? Heri fegnen? Awa. Xaranderaba na n na, corps de la paix, chimie, college Bintimodia” (At this point they were laughing in surprise that I knew any Susu, and one or two of them would look very focused, and then turn to the rest and translate the little bit of French I threw in there into Susu, or, translate it to Pular which is another language that half my village speaks (I can greet in Pular, but nothing else)). They then asked me something about where I lived and I said “N Bintimodia ka” (I’m a Bintimodian) and they would laugh and cheer. Then I’d say “N siga chez l’Imam, O’oo” and they would thank me in Susu, and French (once or twice in English) and I would go on my way.

I immediately felt much better once I got out into the village and started meeting people, there were definitely one or two people who seemed sort of ambivalent to my existence, but most people were super friendly. I then had dinner with my principal and his family (apparently the last couple of volunteers here didn’t ever really cook because Mama Diallo is an amazing cook (by Guinean standards). I’ve eaten all my meals so far at their house, and I will probably continue to have lunch or dinner there on a regular basis and will buy them sacks of rice once in a while to pay for my share. I do plan on cooking once my gas tank gets here on the mail run though (I have a small two burner gas stove which is attached to a small butane tank, I light it with a match) I also have a charcoal stove which is much cheaper to use, but is much more annoying to light (I might get some gasoline to use as lighter fluid, because with the humidity, the charcoal alone takes a long time to get going). I will use charcoal whenever I make something that requires cooking for a long time, but to make oatmeal, tea, pasta etc. I will use my gas stove.
Anyway, my second day in Bintimodia was spent as a recluse in my house trying to get things in order, I set up a clothing line in my room to hang my clothes on, because it’s a little better than living out of a suitcase (I still need to get some sort of furniture in Boke, I only have a bed). I also nailed some kitchen stuff to the walls (hanging my frying pan, serving spoon, colander, cutting board and sieve on the wall to save space). I had a hard time getting stuff on the walls because they painted my house with some terrible house paint right before I moved in, and so if you touch the walls you end up having seafoam green colored dust all over your hands. If you try using masking or even duct tape, you just get seafoam green dust on the tape, and it doesn’t stick. The walls are cinderblock/cement, so most nails bend before they go into the wall unless they’re like 1/3 of an inch thick. I went out to my Principal’s house to eat, but I didn’t so much beyond this outside of the house.

My third day is probably going to remain among the more memorable in all my time here, at about 8:30 am, my principal came to my door, which I opened in PJ bottoms and a t-shirt. He said “come on, we’re going to the mosque” (this was the last day of Ramadan, a big prayer was about to happen) I said “But I’m not muslim, am I allowed to go?” he said “well, it’s not exactly the mosque we’re going to, so yeah, you’ll be fine, come on”. I looked down at my clothes and said “I’ll meet you at your house in 2 minutes, I need to change”. I put on my best African complet, my prayer cap (I got one in Boke because I like how they look) and went to meet him. He told me how to wash my hands, feet, and face in the correct way and order with the right words at the right times (a pre-prayer ritual), then we walked with all (ALL) the village men to a clearing in a palm tree grove, and there everyone laid out their prayer mats in huge rows, he men in one group, the women in another. All the women’s hair was covered, and most of the men had on prayer caps. There were probably 3,000 or more people there, maybe as many as 5,000. The Imam shouted out his blessings for a good while, then he introduced me and had me stand so everyone could see me and know who I was (so weird to be the center of attention at a muslim prayer like that). Then I kneeled back down and listened to the Imam continue his speech. After a while we did the prayer and I followed along with everyone around me, rising to me feet, bending at the waist, kneeleing, and bowing towards mecca in unison with the thousands assembled at this prayer, and probably with every other muslim (and probably a few non-muslims like myself) in my time zone (which I think includes all of Morocco?). After the prayer I said hello to a lot of people and then spent the rest of the afternoon hanging out in a chair in front of my house with my principal. At one point Rob, the volunteer I replaced, came for a couple of hours to say hello to the host family and he and I talked about Bintimodia and Peace Corps Guinea in general while different people said hi to us.

Yesterday was the 50th anniversary of Guinea’s independence, and again I was woken up at around 8 AM, this time by loud drumming passing by my house. I put clothes on and headed out to join the festivities. At the end of the road there’s the “town hall” building which has a big porch where all the important “elders” of the village and the government officials were seated. I hung out in the crowd and greeted people until one of the elders sent a kid to come get me and bring me into the shade of the porch, where they had a chair waiting for me, between the Sous-prefet and the Imam. I sat and watched several women dance and sing and play a tam tam drum in what seemed like a ritalistic African dance – there were times when there was staged arguments that would initiate a dance off, and there seemed to me some jokes tossed in here and there. They got me up and dancing with them for a minute at one point, then I sat back down and watched some more. I felt like I stumbled into an anthropologist’s wet dream. I then sat through like 3 hours of long rambling speeches in Susu and Pular before I got to go home again. I spent the rest of the day reading in my house and some time hanging out on my principal’s porch.

Finally, today, I woke up, got my stuff together, and biked the 20km through rice fields, villages, and small creeks to Kamsar to use the internet, maybe swim a little (if I can figure out where the pool is) and send a letter to my mom from the mailbox (I will send letters to more people next week, I plan on making this a weekly trip). From my front door to the internet café, it took me 1hr and 30 minutes, but about 15 minutes of this was spent biking around Kamsar wondering where the hell the internet café was. I also stopped in a random village to ask for directions, and had to put my bike and myself in a small shaky canoe that crossed the river next to my village (my first pirogue ride in Guinea, I stood awkwardly at the front of the boat trying to keep my balance). The ride is very nice, but has a few spots that are hard even with a nice mountain bike (which was not designed for sand, apparently). I’m glad I brought my patch kit and pump because I would not be surprised to get a flat tire on that first stretch of road. I also got a little muddy as I had to bike through creeks and waterways that were about a foot deep. But here I am, using the internet (sort of, I’ve typed this into Word because the internet doesn’t work very well here…or at all really, in an hour (6,000 GNF) I’ve typed one e-mail, had it not send, and opened up the facebook and blogger home page. Then my time ran out. I’ve spent most of the time writing this blog post waiting for pages to (unsuccessfuly) load (so, an hour and 30 minutes of mountain biking through the jungle to get to a busy city where I almost got hit my a moto and a car to get to a non-working internet cafe - and I'm one of the most well-connected volunteers in all of Guinea as far as ammenities go), luckily this post was my main objective, and now I just need to buy another half hour to try to get it posted. Wish me luck (I guess if you're reading this then I suceeded, so wish me luck on the bike home).