Sunday, September 11, 2005
Entry #1: Meeting the Parents – August 11th, 2005
I think today was the first day that I truly saw the gritty side of Africa. To be sure, the hotels in Ouagadougou are gritty by American standards but there are toilets, running water and air conditioning. The Peace Corps is pretty clever in the way that they wean you off the luxuries that we have become so accustomed to in the United States. The first night was spent in something equivalent to one of the worst youth hostels in a bad part of New York City. The next week was spent in an African “motel”. Today, I moved to the village with six other Americans and the amenities that so flippantly dismissed in Ouaga decidedly do not exist in village. We will be living in a village of 5,000 people for the next three months and I will have my very own host family. Today there was a ceremony where we were matched with our host family. It was a somewhat strange process because we sat across from a panel of six Burkinabe men who had just come from their jobs (mainly cultivating) to pick up their new American sons and daughters.
My Dad was excited to meet me though there was little conversation on account that he speaks neither English nor French and I don’t speak the local language of Moree. The absence of conversation or any communication beyond hand signals was a trend that lasted throughout the rest of the night because I live in a family with exactly zero French speakers. If the events of my first night in village are any indication of things to come over the next two years it would be euphemistic to say that I will build character…
As I sat in my cramped one room mud hut, I sweat like I have never sweat before. It was almost like I was living in a tin roofed mud hut in Africa. As I sat sweating profusely over my piping hot dinner of Spaghetti and dirt, my brother brought in my kerosene lantern. For those of you not familiar with kerosene lanterns they give off light by burning oil. This is nice for staring at the dirt in you pasta but there is also a downside, because the lantern gives off heat. This makes matters worse if you are perspiring at an uncontrollable rate. When you add in the onset of diarrhea and your first experience with an African latrine – you have a nice little night planned for yourself.
I was feeling sorry for myself as I ran between the latrine and my sauna, but then I turned off the lantern, acclimated to the heat and fell asleep. As I was sleeping a funny thing happened: my brother entered my room lit the lantern and closed the heavy wooden door. When you wake up to this scene you think it is some type of sick practical joke. When it happens two more times the same night you cannot help but laugh at yourself and the absurdity of it all. My family is nice, incredibly hospitable and wants nothing more than for me to be happy and in time I am sure that will be the case.
My Dad was excited to meet me though there was little conversation on account that he speaks neither English nor French and I don’t speak the local language of Moree. The absence of conversation or any communication beyond hand signals was a trend that lasted throughout the rest of the night because I live in a family with exactly zero French speakers. If the events of my first night in village are any indication of things to come over the next two years it would be euphemistic to say that I will build character…
As I sat in my cramped one room mud hut, I sweat like I have never sweat before. It was almost like I was living in a tin roofed mud hut in Africa. As I sat sweating profusely over my piping hot dinner of Spaghetti and dirt, my brother brought in my kerosene lantern. For those of you not familiar with kerosene lanterns they give off light by burning oil. This is nice for staring at the dirt in you pasta but there is also a downside, because the lantern gives off heat. This makes matters worse if you are perspiring at an uncontrollable rate. When you add in the onset of diarrhea and your first experience with an African latrine – you have a nice little night planned for yourself.
I was feeling sorry for myself as I ran between the latrine and my sauna, but then I turned off the lantern, acclimated to the heat and fell asleep. As I was sleeping a funny thing happened: my brother entered my room lit the lantern and closed the heavy wooden door. When you wake up to this scene you think it is some type of sick practical joke. When it happens two more times the same night you cannot help but laugh at yourself and the absurdity of it all. My family is nice, incredibly hospitable and wants nothing more than for me to be happy and in time I am sure that will be the case.
