the simple life?

2/9/2012

Its crazy how much I miss my “old life”, whatever that was. I keep telling myself how I miss my old simple life. Its funny that I say simple because life here is really simple in some ways but the simplicities make things feel a lot more complicated. Life in America seemed simple because of all of the technologies but the simpler we try to make things, the more complex they get. I guess life anywhere can be easier and harder in different ways. It reminds me of this quote from the gods must be crazy.

“Only 600 miles to the south, there's a vast city. And here you find civilized man. Civilized man refused to adapt himself to his environment; instead, he adapted his environment to suit him. So he built cities, roads, vehicles, machinery, and he put up power lines to run his labour-saving devices. But somehow he didn't know where to stop. The more he improved his surroundings to make life easier, the more complicated he made it. So now his children are sentenced to 10-15 years of school, just to learn how to survive in this complex and hazardous habitat they were born into. And civilized man, who refused to adapt to his surroundings, now finds he has to adapt and re-adapt every hour of the day to his self-created environment.” (the gods must be crazy)

What I’m trying to say in this silly rant is that I am surprised that life here seems so simple but in reality it is so complex. I guess its just ignorant to think that smaller underdeveloped countries are too "3^rd world" to face the day to day problems that  average Americans face.

Encounters with wild animals

1/24/2012

Last night I was in my latrine relieving myself. It was completely dark in my little outhouse besides my head lamp. I’m squatting there staring at the floor when I hear a rustle coming from the latrine hole. I look down and shine my light at the hole and a bat flies up at my nether regions! Aaahh How did a bad get into my latrine?! It sucks because it lives there now and I have no way of getting it out. Another volunteer told me that you’re not a true Burkina volunteer until a bat flies at your crotch from a latrine hole, so I guess I’m official now. 

breasts, beer, & bikes

1/18/2012

Most of the women in Burkina Faso breastfeed their children (which is great). But at what age do you think we should start weaning our children off of the teat? A lot of the time the women will stop breastfeeding when they have another kid and that child needs the milk. Today I saw this older child breastfeeding. I’m really bad at guessing the ages of children but this kid could walk and talk. When she was done with one breast she tucked in back into her mom’s shirt and pulls out the other one. It was actually pretty funny to watch because the mother was having a full blown conversation with the women around her while this was happening. I don't think that that child needs breast milk anymore.

As I stated before, I live in a mostly Muslim village so I rarely drink any type of alcoholic beverage at site. My Major (head nurse at local clinic) is Muslim as well and I thought that he didn’t drink. He invited me out for dinner with his friends one evening and usually when I order drinks with him he gives me the choice of fanta or coke. This time I was feeling ballsy so I told the waiter “I will have a beer please” and My Major flips out and says “Jalysa! You drink beer?!” So after I finish my beer and he finishes his coke he asks me if I want to split another beer with him. I am so happy that he drinks occasionally. Yay for rebel muslims! This next 2 years are starting to look up.

1/19/2012

This morning I visited one of my neighboring villages for a vaccination campaign. After biking a million k on a pathed we finally reach the village. My Major and another colleague rides to the village on their motorcycle as I pedal furiously through their dust. On the way back they take me on this sandy road en brusse. Mind you, it is very difficult to bike through sand. At this point they are driving behind me to make sure that I don’t fall or die or whatever. After a while they get bored and zoom up next to my bike. As they pass they ask in a very condescending tone “Jalyyssaaa are you tiirreedd?” I wanted to say of course I am, are you crazy, but instead I said “No but where is the road, this sand his difficult to ride through. After that they mumble something and speed off into the blazing sun.

The next day I visited the principal of the high school in my village. His English is really good! After all of the greetings he asks me if I brought a gift for the village. I told his that my work as a volunteer in this town will be my gift. He didn’t seem too pleased with that response and tells me that that is not a good gift. It made me somewhat frustrated because I’m devoting the next 2 years of my life to help out here and he made it seem like that wasn’t good enough. He them goes on to tell me that I am American so that means that I must be rich. I told him that I do not have any money, I’m a poor volunteer. It really annoyed me to see he just wanted a hand out and not my actual help. They are used to NGOs coming and dropping loads of money or buildings in a unsustainable manner.  Well the peace corps isn’t like that. I’m here to help people help themselves. I hope that I can accomplish sustainable work in my time here. Sheesh, this is going to be harder than I thought.