Bandajuma's Main Attraction

Bandajuma’s Main Attraction

                First, I would like to address the thought that I know came across all of your minds who have been waiting for my next blog post…for over a year now, which is “well it’s about time.” My only reply back is I know I know and I’m sorry! To say that trying to document on a regular basis with limited access to internet is overwhelming would be a huge understatement. My dear mother can testify to this statement after only being here for a two-week visit. She came here with the full intent on journaling her experience, writing each day’s festivities every night. I believe at the end of her visit she had maybe the first three days down and nothing more. If you are too tired one night and then get a full day behind, trying to sum up the absurdities and craziness each day brings becomes quickly overwhelming and one tends to cave in to the excuse of just giving up on the updates - to which I am guilty as charged. So again I am sorry for the year-long lack of posts!

                I know that all of you are anxiously awaiting my arrival, maybe already even have signs and whatnot prepared and ready to hold upon driving up to the infamous McMahon mansion, but there is something I would like to warn all of you about – I may be a little weird. Yes, this may come as a little shock to all of you, Brooke McMahon the most well-rounded, level-headed, some even say perfect human specimen, weird? Yes, you’re all thinking well, living in an underdeveloped country in a village with no running water or electricity, yeah, one may become a little odd. Surprisingly, it is none of those contributing factors that have led to my self-proclaimed weirdness. If you look back to the above title of this blog, you may think I am referring to myself as Bandajuma’s main attraction and I know exactly why. You would think that I would be referring to myself, the only white person for a 7-mile radius in a rural African village, that I would be the main attraction – and okay, yes, for Sierra Leoneans, I probably am. But for my fellow PCVs (including Clarke Hinds who came WHILE I was in America to visit) and others who have been fortunate enough to experience this amazing human being’s presence, the main attraction of Bandajuma is none other than my 63-year old retired Sierra Leone police officer best friend, Ibrahim Mohamed Kamara, aka Pa Kamara. 

                Although this measly little blog post cannot make up all of the experiences, activities, and stories I failed to update you on throughout this past year with my lack of blog posts, I feel that cluing you in on easily one of the most significant parts of my service, my friendship with Pa Kamara, will give you more of an insight to my life over here. And will also explain my self-proclaimed weirdness. I got the idea from a well-known author Justin Halpern of “Sh*t My Dad Says” to document all of the amazingly absurd things that come out of this man’s mouth of a daily basis. My only regret in doing this was that I started too late. I believe around March was when I got the idea and sense to write these quotes down, meaning I missed a full 19 months of precious entertainment material. I am now going to post the few gems that I do have in the order in which he said them.

                - Pa telling me that his nephew’s wife died at a young age:

                                Me: “ Aw Pa, how did she die?”

                                Pa: “I don’t know it’s God. God can kill you at any time.”

               

                - Whenever I complain to Pa about issues such as teachers sleeping with students, stealing         anything as well as odd things I see, these are the three quotes I get as my response from him:

                                 “This is Africa”

                                “ That is African Culture”

                                 “ Mus, you are now in Africa”

                “Don’t depend on human beings, it is only God who will not deceive you”

                 “You know what life wants the most? Music.”

                Pa and I walking in the Bush one day to a palm tree plantation:

                                Me: “Pa, are you taking me in here to kill me?”

                                Pa: “Eh Mus, I am a good citizen, that’s why I’m not rich”

                Pa: “Mus, will you carry me to America?”

                Me: “Sure Pa, I’ll put you in my bag”

                Pa: “Eh, but Mus, where will I shit?”

                 “I don’t love to love ugly women”

                 “When you are beautiful, I will love to have you around me. If you are ugly then I will       not sit by you”

               

  “There are three things a man needs to live 100 more years: beautiful women, rum, and             music.”

              

                 Me: “Pa, what if a woman is kind and nice, but is ugly?”

                  Pa: “Me, I will not be happy”

                 “Mus, you are beautiful and educated, but men are not coming your way. Why?” (He says this  to me on a weekly basis)

                 “Mus, I am handsome and educated, but women are not coming my way. Why?” (He also says  this to me on a weekly basis, even though he has a wife and several girlfriends…)

                “Don’t depend on what an African man says until he does it”

                 “Eh Mus, you are white. Whites cannot lie” (He actually believes this)

                 Me: “Pa, who do you love more, Fodie (his wife) or Kootie (gf visiting)?”

                  Pa: “I love Fodie more. Ask me why.”

                  Me: “Why?”

                  Pa: “Because she cleans my compound. That’s the only reason”

                 Me and Pa walking up to my school, which is on a road they are developing:

                Me: “It’s so sad that they have torn down all of the trees”

                Pa: “Eh, white people like trees too much”

                - Me: “More money, more problems”

                  Pa: “I want those problems!”

                My friend Sidi, who lived in Boston for 25 years was over and heard Pa say he had three wives at one time:

                Sidi: “3 wives, Mr. Kamara? How did you handle that?”

                Pa: “Eh, this is Africa. Men should have 20 wives”

                I often find Pa day dreaming on his veranda, sometimes when I ask him what he’s doing he’ll     say:

                “I am thinking of my three children. If I was to die, who would take over my fortune?”

                To which I reply:

                “Pa, what fortune? And you have 18 children…not three”

                Anytime I say anything about his wife Fodie, I mean ANYTHING, such as “where is she? Why doesn’t she feel well”, he will reply with:

                “Fodie is 300 years old”

                Talking about the World Cup with Pa:

                Me: (wearing my American flag shirt) “Pa, America plays Germany today!”

                Pa: “Who will you support?”

                Me: “….Pa, America is playing and you ask me who I will support?”

                Pa: “Eh, a teacher knows what 1 + 1 is, but they still ask their students don’t they?”

                Me and Pa discussing his love for women being too much:

                Pa: “I have girlfriends all over. I have one in Makeni, one is Kailhaun…”

                Me: “Still? They’re not still your girlfriends. When is the last time you talked to spoke to them?”

                Pa: “1987”

                Me: “Pa, that’s over 20 years ago! They’re not still your girlfriend if you haven’t talked to them in over 20 years.”

                Pa: “Eh, when you have a boyfriend do you talk to them every day?”

                Me: “Pa, that’s not the same thing…”

                Pa: “Eh, if I have sexed with them it means they are my girlfriend until I die”

                And that ladies and gentlemen is all I have for you, unfortunately. As insane as this man can be at some, no scratch that, most times, he has been almost the sole thing keeping me sane and smiling through this whole experience. I have yet decided if my weirdness will be from the things I have done and seen in this experience or from not having this absurd person who I believe has become the love of my life. For my parents and Peace Corps friends, I’m extremely grateful you all got to experience this amazing person who has become one of the most significant people in my life. For everyone else in the world, I really hope you are all fortunate at some point in your life to take a trip to the village of Bandajuma, located 30 miles South of Bo in the southern-most province of Sierra Leone to meet its main attraction.

Ants in my Pants...I Mean Trousers!

I found this title necessary, seeing as though it describes only one of the latest, small but comical events that has happened here in the good 'ole Salone. You see, we Sierra Leoneans suffer here. That what I am told on a daily basis by students, neighbors, fellow teachers, taxi drivers, the cookery ladies, strangers passing by, and anyone else born or living in this country. I'm not mocking, but it's the truth and every single time I want to scream "I've been here for almost a year, you don't think I know!?" Anyways, sorry for that rant - back to the main story for which this long lost blog was named after.

It all starts with the day before, Wednesday the 22nd of May (i'm am writing in my library, on Thursday the 23rd, but am actually now typing it at the internet cafe on Friday, the 24th) during our assembly. Mr. Rogers is giving our girl students a long speech on how men are "bad business" and they need to focus on their education so that they can become anything they want to be. Gynecologist and Pathologist were the two professions in particular he named...bless his heart anyways for trying. While the speech was great, filled with good intentions, I was dying for it to end. The raining season is finally upon us, which means so are the black flies. They are these little annoying flies that bite and leave red, puffy marks for a couple of hours and they are EVERYWHERE and loved me that morning because I had decided to wear a knee-length dress. After the assembly Mr. Rogers found me in the library bent over scratching feverishly at my legs. He scolded me for not knowing I should be wearing long pants and told me that's what I have to wear until the students have a chance to clean to the school grounds to get rid of the flies I took this as an opportunity to wear jeans to school for the first time! So this morning I woke up and pulled on my one and only pair of skinny jeans that I brought and am feeling a bit rebellious wearing skinny jeans to school. I'm feeling good, walking to school, about to reach, when one of my students stops to ask me a question. As I stand there talking to him, I feel things biting at my feet. I look down and realize I am standing right on an anthill, where millions of little ants are swarming to. They are all.over.me. I screamed in mid-convo and ran from my student swatting them off of my feet - but no, they already made their way up my skinny jeans. The rest of the walk I look like a baffoon, swatting at my legs relentlessly, sticking my hands down my pants as i'm passing students. I finally get to the school, where the whole Rogers clan is congregated outside for their morning breakfast. Mr. Rogers asks me what's wrong and I blurt out "I have ants in my pants!" and continue swatting. They all stare, giving sympathetic "Eh Bo's" with mouths hanging open. Now, let me give you all a quick vocab word here that I still have yet to use correctly: "Pants" here means underwear, "Trousers" is the word they use for what we call "pants." Mr. Rogers tries to usher me in the house so that I can change and I say "ah, no I mean my trousers - they're just in my trousers." to which then the family lets out a sigh of relief and I tell them i'll be fine and walk away muttering to myself "trousers means pants. TROUSERS means PANTS." I then say a little prayer, thanking God I did NOT have ants in my "pants."

I know I know, it's unfair to give my most recent event when about 7 months of events are missing. All I can say is that i'm sorry, but when everyday is filled with these small comical events and I get on the internet maybe once a month and blogger likes to work only about half of that time, updating my blog is almost as overwhelming as leaving your friends and family to go live in a developing country for 2 years. But I know how much you peeps at home enjoy reading so I promise to TRY to step my updating game up. I said TRY. So now i'm going to try and sump up the last 7 months as bast as i can, so bear with me.

Lets see...

Since the last update, we ended our first term of school in December. After which I had my first visitor: the on and only Michael McMahon. I won't say much considering most of you who read this know my dad and I know him well enough to know that you already probably got an earful of stories. But I will say it was  blast and it was extremely nice having a piece of home come here - especially over Christmas time! VISITORS ARE ENCOURAGED!! Shortly after, term 2 started and it only took the students about a week to come back from their villages which is extremely good compared to other schools. After the term started, the students were then divided into 4 houses, pink yellow, blue and white. I was dubbed the pink house master along with another teacher, Mr. Fomba. We then had about two weeks off of school to have football and volleyball competitions between the houses. But before those started we had to have teachers vs. students in vball and football. The principal had a rule that no students could make physical contact with him or there would be consequences, but my being the ONLY female participating did not have the same luxury. Needless to say, I was sore and walking funny for two days.
After this school was about as normal as it can get - until sports, that is. March madness also takes place in Salone - except it had nothing to do with college basketball. Every school has sports, which is basically  a two day track and field competition between the houses. And yes, although it is only TWO days, the preparation leading up to it is about two weeks. There are practices involved, building of the house on the field, clearing and making the field, students getting their "bluffing" (showing off) gear in their house colors, and major smack talk amongst the teachers takes place. My favorite was my teacher who was headmaster of the white house pretending everyday that Obama was calling him on his private jet to see how his white house" was doing. To which the head teacher of the yellow house would reply "you mean the "crooked house?" Obama means crooked in Kenya.Unfortunately the "crooked" house won and we came third. It was a lot of fun, but I was SO glad when it was over.
Term two flew by. Right after the sports, the students had their second term exams, which was not the best idea, and then I was off to the north for the malaria bike ride. Me and about 20 other PCVs  started in  PC town called Kamakwie in the far north and biked 55 miles over the course of 5 days, stopping seven different PCV's towns and educating the people on malaria treatment and prevention. We did skits, bed net demonstrations, football matched, volleyball games, and visited health clinics. I also learned that not wearing sunblock on my lips for bikerides of 17 miles mid day has major consequences. And is also nearly impossible to treat when you re ALWAYS out in the sun.
After that, I was in and out of Freetown for the rest of break for meeting and working on the style guide I created to give out to the group coming, helping them with what to pack.
So now here we are, the third and final term. Al-most-there is what I say i my head every morning. Its been a little nuts because my oldest kids in JSS3 have a test called the BECE they have to pas to move on the the next level of school, SSS or the high school equivalent. My school, with big shout outs to the PC before me, Chrissy, did the best in our district last year, so there is IMMENSE pressure coming from my principal and the other teachers at my school for this years class to do just as good. All 33 of them live on our campus and attend classes from 8 am to 11 pm, with small breaks for them to go and help their families with chores.
There are about three weeks left of school and then i'm off on holiday for abou 2 1/2 months! I wil then be traveling to Freetown on the 19th to go and greet the new group of volunteers, fresh off of the plane from America!
So  phew, there ya go! That pretty much sums up the last 7 months, give or take a few thousand stories of the weird happening and unusual occurances that happen on a daily basis. Tomorrow i'll be traveling up to Makeni to take place in a half marathon put on by an NGO, Street Children. There are a ot of other volunteers doing it so it should be a good time!

So like I said, i'll try my best at updating. Just know that even if you all don't hear from me, I am CONSTANTLY thinking and missing everyone back home. I'm doing great and loving life here, but you peeps back home in America are irreplaceable! :)

P.S. If anyone back home has any advice or insight as to how I can possibly explain contact lenses/prescriptions for bad eyesight and that glasses are not just a thing for bluffing, it would be very appreciated!

Peace and Blessin's!

Brooke

"Miss Brooke, aren't all Americans perfect?"

Hello All!

Once again, I apologize for me lack of postings. Not only is it still due to the completely overwhelming feeling of trying to compress this experience into a mere page or two of blogging, but it’s been pretty hectic since I have finally started school! I say “finally” because, as I have learned, school in Sierra Leone never actually starts when it’s supposed to. We were scheduled to start on Monday, September 10^th. I had heard from other PVC’s who have already been here for a year that school would not actually start on September 10^th because, well, that’s just the way it works. I was still hopeful and optimistic that it would indeed start on time this year (still in me American mindset). When September 10^th finally came around I was just as excited as I was nervous to meet me students and to start teaching. Walking about the 25 minute walk up to the school, I was telling everyone, with a huge, cheesy smile on my face, rearing to go in my teacher’s clothes, “first day of school!” I got up to me campus and see me principal’s son, Zinab, who is one of me students, and jokingly yell at her for not being in her uniform because assembly is about to start. She laughed at me and gave me, what would be first of many, “oh poor American miss Brooke” look and said, “Miss Brooke, school isn’t starting until the 17^th now. They just announced it on the radio.” So I had gotten to see first-hand that schools in Sierra Leone do in fact never start on time. It’s just a given fact.

                Then, as some of you may know, I missed my first official two weeks of school because I had to go to Freetown because I had a weird, painful, swollen spot on me left shin. The doctors, which I saw many, never really did figure out what exactly it was, but it’s all better and healed now! As much as it sucked to be away and miss the first two weeks, I received quite the greeting from me village upon me return and could feel the Bandajuma love. It was great. Except the part when I walked into me house to find out my mother cat had eaten her three kittens. Yes, I said eaten. I know what you are thinking: Brooke, or Musu, how could you leave your cats unfed for two weeks!? Well, in me defense, I thought I was going to be gone for two days (which is all I had also packed for so that was interesting) but I also left the window open for them to get in and out of to go hunt. When I told people about it in my village, they just shrugged and said, “yeah, So? They were hungry.” No biggie.

                I returned on Sunday and started teaching on Monday (our school is a Muslim school and goes from Sunday to Thursday). It was a tad bit overwhelming, especially since I was two weeks behind. As well as all 360 eyes on my as Mr. Rogers, my principal, gave an embarrassingly long and unnecessary introduction, calling me “nothing short of the Iron Lady of the school” and also a “specialist in the field of communications” as well as telling them what the repercussions would be if they were to disobey me. Love that man.

                All in all, school has been going really well. I have all forms (JSS1, JSS2, JSS3) for two periods of grammar each and once period of “reading” in the library each a week.  I put reading in quotations because i’m not exactly sure that Principal Rogers even knows what “reading class” means. Miss Corrigan, the Peace Corps I replaced, did an awesome job getting the library at our school up and running, but even still there’s about 200 books, none the same, and half of the being too hard for even the teachers to read – and I’m supposed to teach them “how to read quick without error.” Direct quote from my principal when I asked what he wanted me to do for “reading class.” It also seats about 40 students, which is fine for me JSS3 class of about 30, and me two JSS2 classes of about 30 each, but trying to fit me two classes of JSS1 with 60 students in each, is kind of difficult.

                The first week I got back, I did ice breakers and such for each of me classes, for me students to get to know me and for me to get to know them. I made a box with a slit on the top and had them write a question they wanted to ask me. I would say three-fourths of the students in every class asked my what my mother and father’s names were. Let’s just say “Michael Mik-MAY-Hawn”  will be well known when he comes to visit in December. The next week was all revision (what they call review) for the exams the next week. Since I had already missed two weeks I had to try to cram an entire lesson in one week to have something to test them on. Luckily, I had my lesson plans from summer school, which I was able to use with JSS1 (the articles a, an, and the. If anyone knows a way to teach the difference between using a and the, would LOVE advice) and JSS3, subject-verb agreement. With JSS2, it was a review of the parts of speech.

                On Monday of that week I started having students from my JSS3 class asking me for help with their debate arguments because we were having a debate competition that Thursday, which I had no idea about. The debate was ‘secret ballot system vs. open ballot system’ since the presidential election is on November 17^th. On Tuesday I learned from me principal that I was entirely in charge of the debate competitions that are to be held EVERY Thursday. So I had to organize the order and set up, get judges, organize the hall where it was to take place, and make sure all of the students had their debates ready to go. I have never done, nor witnessed a debate before. This is just an example of how the job has increased me adaptability, as well as me creativity. Being at a school, where there is not a generator, only chalkboards and desks, and the only tools the students have are notebooks and pens, has forced me to pull creativity out of places I had no idea existed.

                As frustrating and overwhelming as it can be there are also so many things that I love about this job and keep me constantly entertained.

                Example 1: The first Friday I’m back at site, we had our CTA meeting with the parents of the students. After my principal makes my give a speech (I have done more impromptu speeches here than I have ever done in me life –and I was a public relations major) which my principal had to translate to Mende after I finished, the entire meeting was then held in Mende. Since I only know the basic greetings, I’ll admit, I spaced out a little. Halfway through I looked around and noticed that not one, but two women were breast-feeding…while the meeting was going on.

                Example 2: This is where the title for my blog comes from. After school one day, me students who live on the school grounds wanted to show me a village about 2 miles away. The walk was beautiful. Full of rolling hills, going through the jungle and cassava farms. On the walk, I hear me students talking about Americans in Mende. I asked them what they were saying to which Musa, one of my faves who won the debate competition says, “we were just saying that all Americans are perfect, Miss Brooke.” I immediately replied with a snort (which probably changed their minds right then) and said “No. Not at all. No one’s perfect, Musa.” Then another turned and said “but Miss Brooke, you’re perfect (guess the snort hadn’t scared them off too much).” I wanted so bad to agree, but I decided to LIE and tell them that even Miss Brooke, The Great, was not perfect. Later on in the walk I said something and they laughed and one of the said “see Miss Brooke, this is why we like American’s. You all are so funny. I then thought to myself, I need to hang out with me students more, they do wonders for me self confidence!

                Example 3: It’s quite obvious that I am the only woman teacher at a school with 10 teachers. I think at least twenty times a day my students reply “yes sir”, “thank you sir”, or “no sir” and every single time they quickly grow a mortified look on their face like I’m going to flog them and then quickly shout “Ma!”

                Example 4: My principal, having 3 daughters himself, is very pro female education. He encourages the girls to do their best and to do better than the boys, which is very rare for girls in this country. One day, where I had class in the morning and then no class until the end of the day, I decided to walk into town to take my phone to the charge station. It’s a good 20-25 minute walk one way so I was gone for around an hour. I’m walking up to the school when I see some of my students walking around the buildings, even though I know class should be going on. I keep walking and see a whole swarm of them in the brush on the side of one of the buildings with cutlasses brushing. I went and asked one of my teachers what was going on and he said that the boys are brushing and just the girls have class for the rest of the day. I asked why we were doing that and he replied “because the girls need to learn.”

                Those are just a few of probably a hundred crazy experiences here thus far. Every day I am completely thrown for a loop and never ceased to be amazed.  As tired, frustrated, stressed, annoyed, underappreciated, and overwhelmed as I feel, sometimes all of those in one day, at the end of the day, when it comes down to it, I love this experience, this country, and these people. If I’m ever having a bad day it always helps me to put things into perspective. It varies due to the day’s events, but usually my thought process when putting things into perspective goes like this:

-          My best friend in the village is a 70 year-old man. I pee in a cement triangle in the ground. I’m living in West Africa.

                                OR

-          I just had a lizard crawling on my arm, during my bucket bath, while ducks are walking on the tin roof, annnnd I’m living in West Africa.

                                OR

-          I just had my 15 year old neighbor cut my hair on my veranda using medical scissors and have no idea what it looks like because I have no mirror and I’m living in West Africa.

        OR

-          My student had a baby bird in class today and I have a cold where nose is a faucet and there is no toilet paper around so I’ve been blowing my nose into random leaves and old student papers.

                Putting things into perspective never ceases to amaze me and always makes me laugh.

Hope everythings going great in America and I love you all!! :)

Hello alll!!!
Ah  I know what you are thinking - FINALLY BROOKE/BENDU!!!But in my defense since my last post, things got crazy busy! Since my last there has been so much stuff I don't even know where to start. So much so that everytime I tried to sit down and write a blog I got way too overwhelmed and couldnt. But I"M OFFICIALLY A PCV now!!!! No more training for Bendu, which is another change. I know all of you grew to love my new African name, seeing as though many of you used it in cards (WHICH I LOVE GETTING IN THE MAIL, HINT HINT), but since gonig to my new home Bandajuma, I have been given yet another African name - Musu Rogers (my principals last name) Sowa (the Paramount chief of Bandajuma's name). So for the next two years you can call me Musu. I promise there will be no more name changes. I hope.

But The last three weeks of training flew by because we were in summer school at the Amiddiya (thats not how you spell it, but i should learn seeing as though it's my schools name) Muslim School in Bo. It was hectic, chaotic, I might have wanted to strangle a few kids, but it was also so much fun and probably the best preparation I could have asked for for the next two years. At the end of the third week we had an award ceremony for the students the awards were the two top grades and the most helpful. Then also in that week, we PC's voted on awards for each person in out group. I recieved, drum roll please - BEST DANCER. So for everyone who has hated on my moves, they are greatly appreciated here! :) Then After our swear in ceremony to be PCVs we came up with specific awards for each person in our group. I got "most likely to accidently snort coke." For those of you who may not know, I tend to snort occasionally when I laugh. But surprisingly the sierra Leoneans have never been phased, or even made a second look when it happens. They probably assume its some crazy white person thing or are just even more taken aback by my other weird habits.

Anyways I am at my site and I couldnt be more happy with my placement! Peace Corps did a great job and I am super happy. I already have people, thanks to Chrissy, the Salone 1 I replaced, that I can trust and feel like family. My Prinicipal, Mr. Rogers, is amazing! He's extremely open-minded and ambitious about making our school as good as it can be - two things which are very rare for principals in Sierra Leone, so i've been told. He makes me extreeml;y excited to teach and take on secondary projects for the school!He calls me his daughter, and I feel like he is my second dad. He always reminds me to lock my windows at night, never give my number out, and is constantly checking to make sure everything is okay.

Here are some of the other people I have already come to love:

Pa Kamara:  a retired police officer in Bandajuma who lives right in front of me. He told me his sole job is to protect me and make sure I get home safe to America in two years. He is also another father. He is a hoot and takes his sold job very seriously. The first morning I woke up I came outside to him on his hands and knees scrubbing my latrine and adding air freshner. He is also my poyo (wine) drinking buddy and card game teacher.

Kadi, Ami, and Fati: My other neighbors who take care of me. Kadi will be my student this year, she is about 15 and is my tour guide. Yesterday she wanted to go jogging with me so we went, and that lasted all about 1 minute. She never leaves my veranda, which can be overwhleming sometimes, but shes a sweetheart and most of the time it's nice to have the company. Ami is Kadi's mom and she is also a hoot! She has a garden she goes to everyday and her and kadi even taught me how to carry potato leaf on my head. We are working towards bigger things for me to carry, but they thought i should start small. Ami, even though i eat my own thing, makes me dinner every night and forces me to eat some. She also is taken care of my three kittens. Yes, i have cats. Chrissy left me two cats, Mina the mom and Otter her son. Well little did I know, that on last Sunday she gave birth to three other kittens. SO now I have five cats. I have turned into that creepy cat lady with five cats. Fati is also a hoot.

Then there is Pa Abu and his wife, who i buy bread from every morning. I can't even begin to describe Pa. I s a character from another world and is probably one of the funniest human beings I have ever met.

There are so many other characters in my town but there are just some of my faves already.

Okay, well the blog keeps trying to shut down on me so this is all for now! Sorry for the long delay and I will try my hardest to get on again asap before school starts, which is Sept. 13th I believe!

Love and Miss you alll!!!!! :)

First of all...

Hello all! So I am trying to do a blog post once a week, but as you can tell I haven't succeeded in that goal, but I will try as hard as I can to post as often as I can because otherwise I have a million different things I want to say and never know where to start! In honor of us just having passed our first month of being in Salone I decided to write about all of the "firsts" for me since i've been in Africa since the last time I posted!

Two weeks ago we had our first "micro teach" with Sierra Leonean students at Ahmadia, a Muslim JSS School. We taught two thirty minute sessions on a topic we did for peer teach (practice on other volunteers). It was definitely a good preview as to what the next two years of our lives will be like. We were told we would start teaching, in our groups of three, at 8:30 . 8:30 rolled around and there were no students to be seen .We call time here, sierra leone time because everyone is at least an hour last for everything. Turns out Muslim schools go from Sunday to Thursday and this was optional for kids to come. We were assured there would be many, mainly because they would have free range to stare at "pumoys" for a few hours. The real reason there were no students was because of the rain, which was a slight drizzle. Sierra Leoneans do NOT like walking in the rain, in fear of getting sick, and we have even been told by fellow volunteers that during the raining season, pVCs will be the only ones "crazy enough" to venture out in the rain. When it is raining, a lot of students, as well as Sierra Leonean Teachers, will not come to school.
     Eventually around 9:30 or so, when the rain stopped, students started trickling in and we went to our assigned classes. I volunteered to go first, which I don't know if it was a good or bad thing. we had about 20 or so students and ALL of them just stared wide-eyed at me with mixed expressions throughout most of my lesson like my hair was on fire or I was in my birthday suit. After awhile they loosened up and I even had a girl partially raise her hand towards the end when i asked a question. I did, however, get a reaction when I wrote my name on the board - "Miss Brooke." I'm still a little mad at my parents for giving me a name that means "to wash your clothes" in Krio. How did they not think about that before they named me? Next time I am going with Miss Bendu. the students were at all different levels, some not even understanding English and some knowing the entire lesson, but the experience only made me even more excited to start teaching!

While that was my most memorable first thus far, there are quite a few other memorable ones i'd like to share:

My first interaction with my Granny - and let me just say interaction gone wrong: First of all let me jsut say that Granny is the Matriarch of the entire family and is the only one who is able to use my latrine with me, and i had never talked to her before this point. To sum it up, when going to take my evening wash one night I forgot to get my bucket of water from the well but had already walked out to the latrine in my lappa (sheet)  with my shower caddy in tow. At first I panicked becuase there was no way I was going to be able to fetch water while trying to hold up my lappa, but low and behold there was a bucket of water right by the door. I asked Marie, my little sister, if the water was for me, since sometimes my family will have already gotten me a bucket, and she said "yes." The water was boiled, which I thought was weird because I always say i prefer cold water, but went with it because it was nighttime and thought they did it to be nice. After i wash with my scalding water, I walk out of the latrine to granny, who speaks no English or Krio, standing in her lappa, pointing at the empty bucket of water in my hand with ehr mouth hanging open going "ahhhhh." I immediately started apologizing in every form I could think of, ran into the house and threw on clothes, and then ran outside to go get her new water although it was pitch black. My sister Patricia saw me and asked what i was doing, which she does a lot, and i told her I took granny's water. Patricia just laughed and said "she get her own" and that was that. I was completely mortified but at least i only see Granny once in a blue moon.

Our first trip! Two Saturdays ago we were finally able to venture out on a true "African adventure" and were taken to Tiwai Island, also known as Monkey Island. It was about a two hour drive south of Bo and we rode in Poda-poda's for the first time as well! They are these tiny vans, that seat about 12, but normally about 30 people ride in them. Quite the comfy trip. We had to take a little boat that fit about 8 people at a time to the island, which was gorgeous! After we all arrived and ate lunch (they ahd beer on the island which was a nice surprise) we were then split off in groups and were lead by locals who carved out paths for the hike with Machetes. We saw boku (many) monkeys, but unfortunately no pygmy hippos, which the island is also known for, because they only come out at night. It was an awesome trip and I want to go back and camp out so i can see the hippos!

My first trip to the Market: sounds simple, but it was an extremely exciting time for me! The market here in Bo is CRAZY , especially on the weekends. Walkways here are about a foot wide and you have to wear your backpack facing front. I usually get about 10 -20 marriage proposals everytrip and usually reply with "I get man (i'm married), I get 50 pikin dem (I have fifty kids, which no man would want to support), or no tenki (no thanks). Since it's about an hour walk to town, we always go in groups so we dont have to face the walk alone. Well one Sunday, I walked to church with m,y friend Brittany and her mom, who i love and now call momma, and afterwards me and Brittany walked from church to the market. Well the internet cafe was closed (hence the lack of posting) so i decided to venture off and get potatoes to teach my family how to make french fries (another first!). I knew all of the right allies to take, which woman's stand to go to, and how to get out of the market and back to the main road - let me just say I was feeling preeeetty accomlished - all until my sack broke, my potatoes and ketchup bottle scattered all over the road and I had to carry them the rest of the way home using my cardigan as a sack. but it was still amazing! And in case you were wondering, the fam LOVED the potatoes with ketchup!

First time a family member ate with me in the dining room: I finally was able to guilt my sister Marie into eating dinne with me in the dining room when I was eating by smiling at her sweetly, but she seemed like she was in pain the whole time and has yet to eat with me again...oh well , I tried!

First time I almost cried since i've been here: Let me just say, i do NOT like birds. Chickens run around freely all over the place here and i am terrified. I don't know why, maybe it's their tiny beaks, but i hate them - and my family takes great humor in this fear. The other night when i got home from running I was getting standing in the living room fishing out the key to my room in the dark when my little brother, Mustapha, came in the room with some other kids. Mustapha refuses to speak to me in Krio and English, because he wants me to learn my family's local language, Mende. He come up to me, like he ususally does (he is the ornriest little kid i've ever met) and was holding something I couldnt see. I asked the others what he said and they told me he said he wanted to give me something. i started to reach out for it when I realized he was holding A LIVE DUCK by it's feet. I jumped and screamed and he then proceeded to chase me with the duck in the living room. And that was the first time I almost cried.

I also fished for the first time as well yesterday in the swamp while watching my uncles plant rice!

There are a amillion more I want to share but the group I came with is ready to leave, but I have one last piece of news:

I GOT MY PLACEMENT FOR THE NEXT TWO YEARS!!!!! It is in the South of SL, in a town called Buntujama (i think thats wrong but i can't find my slip of paper). We have our site visits on Sunday, where we go with our supervisor and stay with the volunteer we will be replacing until Wednesday! I hear it's beautiful with a huge market by a river! I will definitely keep everyone posted as soon as I return from my site visit!!! Until then!! Love and miss you all!! :)

A day in the life of Bendu

Disclaimer once again: I have a plethora to write and this keyboard is not the best quality, so please bare with me.

Seeing as though I have been slacking on the blog updates and have been in SL for almost 3 weeks and have a a million stories, I decided the best way to give you all an update is blogging a "typical" day for my during my training in Bo. When I say typical I say it with a grain assault because truely, Sierra Leoneans are crazy, this experience is crazy, and everyday is filled with something that completely blows my mind.

My day starts at about 6:30 when I wake up. I usually hit the snooze, because surpisingly despite the ridiculous heat, mosquito net, the 5 am. Muslim call to prayer, roosters in my yard, and the occasional wake-up int he middle of the night to a cockaroach crawling over me, i've been sleeping like  a baby since I have gotten here.

I then throw on a t-shirt and sweats and take my bucket (the doors to my house are pad locked in the middle of the night, so Peace Corps graciously supplied me with a bucket to use) out to the latrine (Bathroom/shower house) where I empty it and wash it. Everyone's usually awake so I get an early start on my morning greetings of "mornin", "aw yu slip" and " aw di mornin". I then dress in my teaching clothes, make sure I have an abundant supply of snacks (everyone already has claimed me as the one always eating and comes to me for snacks) and then get my books together. I haven't seen what I look like in over a week, due to the lack of mirrors here - and I love it.  I have been told I have a constant sunburn on my face, but thankfully so far so good ont he akward farmer's tan since we always have to be covered up.

I then go out and Patricia brings me mybreakfast, which I eat in the "dining" room. It's a sign of respect towards guests to let them eat by themselves in the dining room, so the rest of my family eats outside on the ground, or at least I am assuming they do because I have never actually seen them eat. at first I felt completely akward and begged them to eat with me (which they kindly refused), but now I embrace this along time, seeing as though its the only time alone I get all day. My breakfast is the same meal: boiled eggs mixed with mayonnaise, ketch-up, and onions mixed in either noodles or an odd fioshy substance I thin is anchovies and bread. I'm also served either coffer or tea, which are both actually hot chocolate. i usually never have time to drink my "tea" so I take the cup with me on my walk to training. It has become a tradition for ym favorite neighbor to yell at me from her patio "Bendu, why yu wak wif yu tea!?" "Giv me yo tea" to which I reply "no, I lek mi tea!" and then she dies with laughter. Every time. It never fails.

My walk which i've figured out if one of the longest of the groups, takes about 25-30 minutes, but feels even longer due to how many greetings I have to yell out. For each minute I easily say 10 "mornin's, aw di bodi" or "aw yu slip?" So 10 x 25, you do the math. By the time i get to language class, which is the beginning of our training, i am already wipped out.  Training goes from 8 - 5 everday and the content usually differs from day to day which is nice, but by the afternoon we are all going stir crazy and are brain dead by 5. We get a lunch break from 12:30 -2 and it is much needed! During lunch we usually sleep under the palovo huts, play cards, read, walk down to the market down the road, or in my case hit up the donut man. I kid you not, if I didn't sweat half of my body weight during the day I would easily have gained 25 pounds by now.

After training there is a group of about 5 or 6 of us who run everyday. We bring our clothes and leave from th training site. The view on our run here is so beautiful, you never notice you're tired, which is nice because the hills here are insane. We were just recently introducd by an older volunteer to a trail on candy mountain. The run up almost kills you but the views from the top are worth and the run down on the back side is even more beautiful. After running we come back to the training compound and do a few more workouts and then head back home for the day. No matter how tired I am, whenever I turn the corner of my road I have 4 or 5 kids racing to greet me and I immediately get a second wind of energy. As soon as I walk up to my compund my family, who are ALWAYS outside, tells me "Bendu, go was, yu dirty." Sometimes I get the water from the well and other times, when my family can tell i'm really tired they have one of the kids get it for me. You would think pulling water up in a bucket would be easy, but it's a lot harder than you'd think - which is why its a little embarrasing the 10 year old Mustapha always has to come with me and help.

After I carry my bucket to the latrine, I go inside to change into my lappa (a giant piece of fabric), my shower shoes, and towel and then grab my bucket of toiletries and head to the latrine. I will never forget the feeling of accomplishment the first time i mastered the bucket bath - and if I must brag, it was only day two. It takes a lot more strategy and planning than one would think. You can't wash you body first because if you put the loofa in the water then the water for the rest of your wash will be soapy for rinsing or washing your hair. I now know it takes about 3 or four cup fulls depending on the amountof shampoo I use to rinse and 3 for conditioner. I am proud to say I always have water left over. It's amazing to see how much water you actually need to shower - I even shave AND wash my face. I challenge all fo you at home to take a bucket bath and see how much water you use! Just kidding, PLEASE embrace the running water for me!! I have actually grown to really like my bucket showers, especially when I am joined by these cute Lizards all over the wall, i was even lucky to shower with a gecko watching me one day.

After i was, i go change and Patricia has dinner ready for me, of course which I eat by myself. It's alway rice, and then either chicken, fish, granat (peanut) soup, casad lif, or gren-gren ( a leafy plant). After I eat it's usually pitch black outside. Sometimes my family will turn on the generator and other times we hang outin the dark. I introduced them to UNO, which they now love! I must say the rules differ slightly when I play with them due to the language barrier, but they get it for the most part. They also love puzzles and we have done the three I brought numerous times already. They also love to help me with my krio language homework, so we do that right after i eat. They also thoroughly enjoy my "pumoy", or white girl, dance moves and are always playing songs on their phone and yell for me to dance. Let me just say the Sierra Leoneans love my dance moves!

I then usually "go to bed" around 9, after having to say "sleep well" to everyone in the family. I then have what I like to call Brooke time - which is lay in bed, by myself and jsut listen to music or do whatever for about an hour. I've never appreciated alone time so much.

So I hope this has given you guys an idea of my adventure here is Sierra Leone thus far! It's aboslutely insane in ways i've never imagined and I love it! I miss you all and can't wait to share more stories!! Until my next post, love you all! :)

Kushe-O Padi dem!

Disclaimer: sorry for my typing on this post - the keyboards here are noooot the best.

That's hello friends in Krio! I'm sorry it's taken me this long to do my first blog post but it's been a pretty crazy journey and I am just now getting to my first internet cafe in Bo - the ciy where we have our 10 weeks of training.

I have SO much to share already I don't even know where to start! First I should tell you I am no longer Brooke, my host family has names me Bendu and I am already answering more to that than I am to Brooke, which is probably a good thing considering "brook" means to wash your clothes. I couldn't understand why the people in Freetown (the major capital city where we were for the first 5 days) laughed whenever I told them my name, but as soon as I got to Bo I understood.

I will try to some up these last two weeks as quickly as I can.

First let me say all of the people in our group (45 total) are awesome! Everyone is extremely nice and genuine and I can still say this after two weeks of constantly being with them, which is pretty impressive seeing as though most of us have been seen at our worst.

Freetown was amazing! We stayed in a hostel within the National Stadium where our first few training classes were also held. We weren't allowed to leave the hosetl after dark, but could walk around the stadium during the day where a lot of locals hangout. Let me just say, I know how celebrities in America feel. You can't move one finger without people watching you. It's considered rude here to pass someone and not greet them so I can easily say i'm nearing a million on the number of times i have said kushe. Freetown was full of playign soccer after training, cards at night (people here love to play euchre which made me extremely happy!) Ah everyone is leaving the cafe, so I better get gonig but i'll post more later!!

I love and miss you all!! :)