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."