The rain is finally upon us. Goodbye sweltering heat, lifeless plains and water shortages.  Hello mangos (by the bucket-full), green foliage and bugs, insects and mosquitoes.  I’m happy to say I survived the hottest month of the year and even happier to bid it farewell.

I can’t believe it’s already been 5 months since I left North Carolina. 5 months!  I often feel like the days pass slowly, but the time passes fast.  A weird feeling, but in the moment I find myself saying ‘’It’s only 11 o’clock!?” but looking back and thinking where the heck has time gone and what do I have to show for it.

This past month has been quite fun.  I got in contact with a former US Olympian who is doing humanitarian work in Guinea and he agreed to sponsor both of my sports teams.  Ron Freeman:  gold and bronze medalist in track and field and a really nice guy.  I’ve also been regularly teaching English which has given me an appreciation for what my mom spent her life doing.  It’s not easy preparing a lesson, keeping children engaged and having high energy; but it’s fun.  The children are intrigued by my accent and seem to enjoy the games and activities we do.  I’m sure some of you could imagine my teaching style (quite different from rudimentary style found in most Guinean classrooms).  Most classes I break into song and dance and am always floating around the class trying to get students to participate (not always successfully).  Needless to say, teaching is exhausting.

After our last monthly regional visit one of the other volunteers came back for a brief visit of my village.  A couple of my friends agreed to take us to one of the local waterfalls and barrages that they Chinese built.  It doubles as a hydroelectric plant that sends power to some of the local towns and villages (not mine).  The fall was magnificent – and it was during dry season.  Two rivers converge at the top of the fall.  On one end the river crashes down huge, displaced boulders sunk down between two giant rock walls.  The other side is much calmer with a small 4 meter waterfall in the distance and the water slowly snakes its way to the fall weaving between rocks.  Because it was dry season we actually walked on part of the waterfall – the pool at the top shrank to the size of a small creek.  The fall itself is about a football field high and we actually got to lay over the edge to look down into the pool at the bottom.

The trip, however, wasn’t all sunshine and roses.  Before we even got into the village where the waterfall is we stopped at a police checkpoint(which is in and of itself normal).  When we stopped, we were greeted by a shirtless ‘policeman’ wobbling towards us with a near-empty bottle of whiskey.  He wanted us to pay in order to enter which was ridiculous considering he was just going to pocket the money.  We sat and argued with him for the better half of 10 minutes (in which I surprised myself at how well I can argue in French).  Finally, I resorted to calling the Peace Corps security coordinator who laid down the law and we finally passed (for free).  I joked with my buddy that we should have just blown past the dude and not think twice since he was probably too drunk to fire a gun.  Obviously we didn’t want to test my theory which is why we argued with him for what seemed like forever.

One night I went with Thierno Hassane (my best friend in country whom people say we look alike because we’re together so much) to watch one of our buddies fire the bricks.  In Guinea, if you want to build a brick house that means someone has to make the bricks.  In order to do this you need a good source of clay mud – preferably close to a water source.  Mix the clay with water, slop it into a wooden brick mold then set it in the sun to dry.  After the sun bakes it for days (and they’ve made all the bricks) they stack them into what looks like 4 chimneys connected together.  At the base are openings to slide in wood and they light a fire to finish off the process.  The bricks go for about a dime each.

That same night after I left at about 12:30am I headed back to my house in a light drizzle.  I was pretty tired and looking forward to hitting the sack.  When I walked up to the door that lets us in to our courtyard it wouldn’t open.  I thought to myself that this was odd – we never latch the door closed because we never know if there is someone not back for the night yet.  Anyways, I tried for a couple minutes to try and reach through a small hole to slide the latch over but couldn’t quite get it.  I surveyed my options and figured climbing over wasn’t an option.  I probably would have taken down part of the wall considering how big I am and the fact that dilute the cement mix with sand here.  I knocked, called, banged, threw rocks and yelled at my neighbor’s window, but no such luck.  All I could do was laugh.  I knew it wasn’t on purpose and getting upset would just make the situation worse.  Luckily I had just left Thierno Hassane so I called him up and said I needed to crash at his place.  And so it was – my first Guinean sleep over.

Oh yeah, I finally saw my first snake and scorpion. In the same week!

Peace be with all. Shane

Walking through the village these days makes me look like I got a cheap fake spray on tan.  The government came through to re-drag our road which left a lot of loose dirt on the ground to be kicked up by motorcycles and cars.  It seems like you can't even roll a pebble down the road without it creating a dust storm.

I started a basketball and volleyball team in my village which has been quite fun.  I have about 15 guys and 19 girls who regularly come.  I essentially just showed up to the court one day with a basketball and a group of guys showed up.  I've been very surprised at how far they've come in a month's time.  They didn't know how to dribble, what the violations were, how to shoot or even do basic basketball skills.  Now they show up and immediately start the warm-ups, call fouls on each other and know when they've traveled or double-dribbled.  I'm hoping to find some funding so that we can repair the court that we're playing on and repair one of the baskets; it's by far one of the nicest village courts I've seen, but one of the rims is hanging down and the paint all wore off.  I asked each kid to invest 5000 francs into the team and that I would find the rest of the money.  Let's hope I can find some somewhere!

For Easter we all came to the regional capital to all get together and celebrate.  As with all times here, it's a time to re-charge and be around some other Americans.  It's kind of dangerous for me to come because we eat so good and tears my stomach up.  It's like a shock to my system to have a variety of food.  We found a church to go to for Easter service which was quite nice.  It was in French and Pular and only lasted 3 hours so it was quite a treat in this Muslim country.

I really feel at home in my village, I have guys that I would call legitimate friends (the other coach of my team).  I'm currently going around to the tourist sites close to my village and they are gorgeous.  Right now it's the dry season so the rivers and waterfalls aren't a wall of water like they will be come July, but it's still amazing.  I hope I get some visitors to show off this country too; let me know if you wanna come!

We have our in-service training in May and after that I hope to start more intense projects with my village.  For now, I'm content getting to know where I'm living for the next 2 years.

It's been a month since I've moved to my village and things have definitely changed as a way of life.  I'm not go, go, go anymore with class from 8-5 and studying shortly there-after.  Instead, I've fallen into the Guinean work week: the health center opens at 8, but I don't go in until 9; otherwise I'd be sitting on the front stoop until everyone else got there.  I sit and observe some of the patient interactions and ask curious questions like "is there any dialog between pregnant women and the nurse about the health of them and their baby?"  The say, "of course." But from my observations the pre-natal visits are treated more like a formality than an actual visit regarding your personal health.  When it gets busy I help with the vaccinations -- this past Saturday we had over 50 infants come in for shots which kept us quite busy, especially considering the nurse who normally does the vaccinations wasn't there.  After I get bored with that I study Pular and some of the women are entertained as I try pronouncing some of the phrases -- there are some funky sounds in that language that my mouth won't make.  We all leave around 2 to find lunch -- I normally fix something at my house which blows the minds of guys because I've taken on the task generally reserved for women.  Some days I wander back to the health center to sit and chat with the doctor; other days I go find a tea bar and chat with the guys my age.  Luckily, I'm coming along in my French so that I can start finding other outlets to keep me busy and engaged in the community.  I finally met the directors of the 5 schools in my village and plan on starting working their soon.  I'm completely content in my village -- there's a group of guys my age that I hang out with which has made it much easier to adjust and integrate.  Now I'm just anxious to start on projects.

Living in a developing country has shown me things that Americans are not used to.  And I don't mean the superficial things like not having electricity or running water -- it's things that our society has, thankfully, overcome.  There are attitudes and ways of life that are accepted here and justified as, "that's just how it goes" and that bothers me.  One of the most noticeable (and irritating) are gender roles.  Don't get me wrong, America has stereotypical societal roles for men, women and children, but it's not generally ridiculed or shamed when someone bucks those.  We have male nurses, stay at home dads, female firefighters, and women governors and CEOs -- in fact we often applaud those who buck the normal and go off the well beaten path.  Here, though, it's often not accepted.  Women cook, clean, raise the children, work in the garden and generally keep the house in order.  Men work, drink tea and hold all the government positions (ok, so not all the government positions, but I'd bet it's 85%).  Often times girls aren't able to continue their schooling because they have to stay home to tend to domestic responsibilities, while the boys were never even considered to stop schooling.  I was even told that if a man is "caught" by his mother helping his wife prepare food that she would disown the wife.  At first I found these things to be interesting and a sort of cultural phenomenon that I would grow to accept, but what I've come to believe is that women in Guinea (and most likely all of the developing world) carry a very heavy and uneven burden in society and often don't get the reciprocal fair say in that government or society.

I broach the topic with guys occasionally, asking their opinions on polygamy and if it's fair to women or why more women can't be mayors or doctors.  It's exciting to hear the younger generation debate these issues -- for some it's the first time they've thought critically about how they feel about the subject as opposed to how someone told them to feel.  It's no doubt that change will come to this country; as the world quickly becomes more integrated across national boundaries through the internet, radio and TV, young people's thoughts will be challenged and people will begin to buck the status-quo.  For my part, as a Peace Corps volunteer I'm supposed to "introduce host country peoples to the culture of America" (or something like that) so most chances I get, I wash my clothes, cook my food, fetch my water and hold little babies (nothing an American would think as noteworthy other than the fact that it's all done without washing machines, gas stoves, water faucets or diapers).  So many of them have such high regard for America that I'm in a unique position to be able to brush of the any of the ridicule or laughs that I get (calling me 'madame' or reminding me that I'm doing women's work) and show some of my friends that when a guy boils water or hangs clothes on the line that he doesn't mysteriously melt into a puddle or spontaneously combust.  I don't want to make the guys sound like they're good for nothing (some of you are thinking 'too late'), because they are often the bread winners for their family if they can find work (try living with a 20+% unemployment rate).  It's just that the hierarchical structure that puts women well below men is holding this country back from reaching it's potential.

It's not because women can't handle the demand put on their shoulders -- Guinean women are some of the strongest human's I've ever met, physically and mentally -- that bothers me about the gender roles.  They cary a baby strapped to their back, 30 pound jugs of water on their head, and food from the market in their hands.  It's amazing to see the power these women have.  They are the one's that are the backbone of this country, they are the one's that keep their families fed, they are ultimately the one's that will pull Guinea to the next level.  After all it's an African proverb that says "If you teach a man, you've taught one person. If you teach a woman, you've taught an entire nation."

"No matter how hard I try, I keep pushing you aside; and I can't do that. There's no turning back. Do you believe in life after love?"

Goodbye 2011, hello 2012!  And that's exactly how we greeted the new year in a Guinean bar -- dancing to Cher's "Life After Love". C'est Guinea.

I finally spent a week at my village and it was great.  Part of me wanted to just stay there because I already felt at home.  The visit was a chance for me to meet my counterpart, survey the village, and take it all in.  I'm happy to say that there seems to be a lot of potential; much like the rest of this great continent there is a lot of opportunity to make things better if the people are given a chance to act on it.  I hope I can provide that chance to some folks in Timbi Tounni. I'm not sure what my projects will actually be, but some of the things I hope to be a part of include:

• a community pride project to combat the waste that exist
• a youth debate team
• a community medicinal garden
• women's artisan group

Luckily I'm not the first PCV to live in Timbi Tounni, so they are used to working with Americans.  Not to say that at 2 o'clock everyday they insist on me taking a nap because I must be tired -- not a bad thing, but I should definitely keep working. Fortunately, there's a petit forest right next to the health center where I can hang my hammock and read. Score.

One morning instead of going to observe at the health clinic I decided to wander around the village to explore.  I must've looked like a fool because everyone thought it was the strangest thing that I wanted to wander with no end destination in mind.  My neighbor finally asked me that night exactly what I was doing; once I told him he just looked at me in disbelief -- why would anyone in their right mind do such a thing!

My village is actually cold, too. I can't stand to take a shower at night because the water is cold and when mixed with the chilly air it is not fun.  I must say it's a pleasant surprise in sub-Saharan Africa!

On the whole, I'm quickly becoming desensitized of the societal differences that exist.  Cold soda, electricity and ice cream are all things to brag about here.  It feels like winning a $50 scratch off lotto ticket when you find one of those (and $50 here is a lot of money).  Also, I now enjoy mayonnaise sandwiches (yes, that's bread and mayo only) and Fanta Orange; two habits I hope don't follow me back to the States.

I'm excited to think that I'll be sworn in as a Peace Corps Volunteer next month; all the public health volunteers bought fabric to make a Guinean outfit for the ceremony.  We have to look good because they're putting the whole thing on the government news channel!

We also randomly ran across a basketball court in the middle of the brush.  I went on a run with some friends and we happened across an outdoor court; complete with bleachers, nets, and backboards.  Unfortunately, Guineans do not know the rules and mostly run around with the ball and wait for someone to chase them.  We plan to organize a volunteer game which should be interesting.  The heat here is brutal; I was covered in sweat by the time we got back to village.  Hopefully next time I post I'll have a score update.  Until next time.

Finally a place to call home...

I'm back. I didn't get internet time last week because I went to a Guinean drum performance instead. Things have finally started falling in to a routine here.  We have class M-F, 8-5 and then we go study French from about 7-10.  Class is a mixture of both French grammar, technical training on public health in Guinea and cross-cultural training.  We all just show up at the designated spot in the village -- usually under a mango tree -- and commence class.  It's actually quite nice in the shade; the sun, however, is brutal.  French is coming along petit a petit, but I've definitely made a ton of progress.  Lane, another public health volunteer who studied French, said that we're cramming about 6 years worth of French into 6 weeks -- so I feel pretty good about my progress.  I can finally hold semi-descent conversations that don't revolve around wanting food, drink or a toilet!

Family life is, well, interesting.  I'm the oldest of 7 children so now I know what it's like to have younger siblings.  They're always in my face asking me to say things, do things, or look at things; they all want to sit on my lap and ask me questions; but what's most amusing is how mesmerized they are by the fact that my skin changes from red to white if you apply pressure (how many of y'all just tried it?) and that my hair is soft and lies flat.  My living quarters are pretty basic, but all the other volunteers in my village (we're spread amongst 3 villages) think that I have it so nice -- mostly because my bathroom is in my room instead of out back behind the house.  But let me just tell you, it ain't pretty.  Having a pit latrine (look it up) inside your room means that it literally and figuratively smells like crap.  I'm currently trying to figure out ways to fumigate; so far all I've come up with is soaking an old toilet paper roll in febeze and using it as an air freshener (and I keep the door shut, of course).

The weekends are generally our time to explore.  We got to go to the cascades (waterfalls) last weekend and it was pretty awesome.  The falls were about 50 feet tall and we got to climb and swim.  Mostly it was fun because all 33 of us were together and we got food that wasn't fish and rice.  Speaking of 33, one of the public health volunteers had to go back home for medical reasons.  We miss you Rachel, come back to visit!!  On Sunday a few of us biked in to town to go to drum lessons, but as goes Guinea, the instructor wasn't there.  We still made a day of it; we rode to the port where they bring the fish in and then went and explored the market at the center of town.  

This weekend we're all going to Conakry for Christmas -- I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S CHRISTMAS!  Apparently we're having a smorgasbord with a stuffed goat, american goodies, beer, wine, liquor and a gift exchange.  So to answer your question Jacob -- yes, Santa does come to Guinea!

Quite frankly it's been so crazy between the transition to a completely different way of life, adjusting to the climate and food and learning a ton of new information that I haven't felt like I've spent much time reflecting on the experience.  Maybe that's a good thing.

Today we found out where we'll be living for the next two years -- and who we'll be living near…  In February I'm headed off to Timbi Touny and it sounds pretty awesome.  After you Google it, if you find something interesting leave it in the comments or call me 224 68 06 11 54 and let's chat.  Supposedly it is cool weather, 15km from the next closest volunteer and has a chefs factory!  Woot woot!

In the spirit of Christmas, some things I'm thankful for:

the ability to log on to the internet and post on my blog

talking to my family back home

my lantern/flashlight

awesome trainees

my American goodies

my Guinean clothes

occasional electricity

MY NEW HOME!

Merry Christmas to all and remember the reason for the season!

Welp, we're here! Vive Guinea!

I'm going strong on week 2 and honestly, I'm having  blast.  The first week all 34 volunteers stayed together in the "Peace Corps House"; basically it was like living in a fraternity house where we all spent every waking second together in our compound.  It was kind of like a vacation with a bunch of people I never met before.  We got to know each other frighteningly well those few days.  My first impression on most people was "southern tall guy"; go figure.  Of the 4 southerners (I don't count Florida), I've got the thickest accent -- needless to say, Peace Corps is a more Northern and Western draw.  But much to my surprise Peace Corps attracts a lot of 'normal' people.  That might be rude, but I'm being honest when I say that I thought Peace Corps was a bunch of hippie, tree-hugging weirdos -- not at all!

But first things first.  Anyone who knows the Peace Corps knows that things don't always go as planned.  And, they didn't.  Our flight to Guinea included a layover in Brussels, Belgium (if you're offended by our 'pat downs' by TSA you ain't seen nothing yet.)  Two girls' plane tickets accidentally got canceled and they couldn't fly with us to Guinea.  So we were down to 32.  Well at least for 2 days until the next flight to Guinea arrived.  Quite a surprising introduction to Peace Corps - Guinea.

After we adjusted to Guinea for the first few days we traveled to a smaller town called Dubreka (Doo-break-ah) and attended our adoption ceremony for our host families.  The ceremony was pretty fly; the local african percussion school played (we danced) and the town mayor came to speak.  The ceremony was a traditional way for Guineans to accept us as members of their family.  So henceforth, in Guinea, my name is Aboubakar (A-boo-ba-car) Camara. Je m'appelle Aboubakar Camara.

My family is great. I'm still trying to figure out who all I'm related too, it seems like it's the entire village, though.  Their hospitality puts the South to shame; I always get the best seat in the house, I have my own room and bathroom, I eat before everyone else and they get me soda to have as dessert.  They're also very enthusiastic about helping me learn French (which is a struggle).  And because of my 'performance' at the adoption ceremony, the first thing asked me to do when we got home was to dance for them (of course I obliged.)  Now I can't go anywhere in my village -- Yorokoguia (Yo-row-ko-gia) -- without someone wanting me to dance.

My village is just outside of town (10km) and I live near the 7 other public health volunteers and the entire village already knows us all.  Which brings me to another anecdote.  We all got bikes the other day so we rode them home.  One volunteer got light headed and dizzy so we had to pull over on the side of the road.  We called the bus to come pick her up, but on Guinean time we didn't know how long that would take. So, in broken French, we asked a woman if we could sit on her property because our friend was sick.  Of course she let us.  And not only did she let us, she brought all of us chairs and sent her son up a tree to gather us oranges.  She wouldn't even let us pay her for them.  Seems quite the opposite of what would happen in America, no?

Overall, my time has been great.  Of course, there are some things to adjust to -- it feels like 100 degrees here right now and I have a heat rash all up and down my back and arms.  I eat rice everyday, twice a day.  I don't speak French (yet).  But, if that's all I've got to complain about, then life is good!

From now on you can expect a blog post once a week or every other week.  We get internet one hour per week on Thursdays and I hope to post during that time.  See you later!  A tout a l'heure!  Shane

Where the heck is Guinea?

No it is not a pig.

No it is not an old British coin.

No it is not an exotic island in the Pacific named Papua New Guinea.

No it is not Equatorial Guinea.

Not it is not Guinea-Bissau. (but it's close.)

Guinea is, well, Guinea. A former French colony in West Africa and the future home to me. I can't tell you much other than what I've read online or in books, but I know that it's a place I will probably fall in love with over the next 2.5 years. If you're curious where I'm moving, I'd encourage you to check out Wikipedia; there's not much I can tell you that isn't already on that page. But, what I can give insight on is why I'm going.

I've finally boiled down my response to 'why?' to a nice succinct answer, but believe me, it's more than what I'm going to say...

I'm moving to Guinea with the United States Peace Corps because of my passion to learn new cultures, meet new people, explore the great beyond and work with communities to identify and address their problems. I have no idea what to expect -- or even what I'll be doing -- but I'm certain my life will be transformed over the next couple years. This is something that I've given much thought, prayer and reflection. I don't have a doubt that this is the direction my life is supposed to take and I'm embracing it to the fullest!

From the limited information I've been given thus far, I can tell you I'll be a Public Health Educator, most likely working with a health post and doing community health outreach programs.  Fortunately, I get to work with my Guinean counterpart to determine what our individual projects are, so we truly get to assess the needs of our community before offering a program.  The Ministry of Health has determined that they would like us to focus on 5 main areas: nutrition and food security, childhood immunizations, HIV/AIDS and reproductive health, malarial prevention, and water, sanitation and food-borne illness (diarrhea).

It's my hope to share with you some of the experiences I have in Guinea through this blog. Feel free to share the link with anyone interested. For now, let's play a game.  Which one doesn't belong?

Some of the things I'm most excited for:

• struggling to learn French and my village's language
• being in a foreign country and knowing no one (at first)
• sleeping with lions, and monkeys and bugs
• eating rice and 'sauce' for every meal, every day, for 27 months
• working with my village to address public health challenges