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