Semaga

Site Announcement, Baby

So, all of the Peace Corps Trainees received information this last week on the communities they will be living in for the next two years. My future home is a small farming community in the mid western part of Burkina called Semaga!


Semaga is lcated about 60k north west of Koudougou, which you can see on the map above. I will be the first PC volunteer in Semaga. As PC training has progressed, it seems more and more like much of the work I will be doing will be focused on agro-business development.

As far as I can tell, there is no market in Semaga, and I will have to ride my bike a couple K to a village called Godyr for fruits, veggies and so on. We should all cross our fingers for cel phone service though I've heard climbing a tree sometimes helps. Will let you know how things pan out in that department!

If you want a better idea for where Semaga is, go ahead and type "Godyr, Burkina Faso" into google maps and the general area should come up.

More information soon!

Step One

It is customary to visit the chief upon arrival.

Bring him one white chicken if you can. It should be white to represent that you have come in peace. It should definitely not be black.

The chief is a generous man, and if you think you have done good in bringing a chicken, you will be surprised to see that he will not let you leave without first giving you a goat. It will also be white.

You will have to, of course, wait for the chief like we did. But his house has many comfortable wooden chairs and when the chief comes out in enormous blue robes and a petite red hat, you will know it has been worth the wait. Stand.

Later, when you ask what is most important in life, during your Q and A with the chief, he will say respect. The two men that lay at his feet will click their tongues when they hear this answer.

If you get to speak with the chief, do not look him in the eye. But note his ring-tone as he pauses to take a call mid response.

The chief lives in a white concrete house with a large courtyard. He will walk you to his gate after your meeting. When you look back at him a few meters down the road, he will still be smiling a great smile. Wave.

The chief is an elected official that has won the respect of his people. If you come to Ouahigouya do not _not_ visit the chief. If you forget, he will be offended. The chief's people will reflect the emotions of their leader.

The chief will give you his business card. Do not misplace it.

Contact Info

Whammy:

So, here's the DL on how to get me in Burkina. For regular post, the address is:

Corps de la Paix
01 BP 6031
Ouagadougou 01 Burkina Faso

Note: At this address, mail will go to the PC office in the capital which means it might sit there for a while before I get it. but i Still love letters!

As for phone, to call from the states one should use country code 226 plus my number 75525083. I think skype would work well for this, or calling cards of course. If when you call I seem confused, I promise it's just because I am still learning how to work my phone, and that I still love you!

email is still the same old deal

Premier Post

A fellow volunteer, Christina swears that if you just stay up late enough, or maybe if you just get up early enough, the night is completely silent between three and four.

But when I go to bed, cricket-chirps buz relentlessly through the air, and the frogs who meet nightly around my latrine croak to each other like frightened dogs. (presumably passing around the latest gossip at the local watering hole) There is a disco down the street that is four mud walls and no roof. It plays into the evening as long as the there is enough gas for the generator. Motobikes rocket by. People laugh at the boutique down the street and buy each other cigarettes by the one. They sit together under a blue light that barely illuminates cans of condensed milk, phone cards, and individual packets up laundry detergent.

At five it is still dark and at four fifty-nine, I was dreaming about irregular french verbs, lying on a bed of crinkled hand-outs on Burkinabe agriculture practices and UN statistics, but now I hear the chanting melody of morning prayers coming from the local mosque. It's a man on a loud speaker and I can anticipate all of his off pitch notes, but I hope I never get so used to his songs as to sleep through them. I can't imagine a better way to wake up.

You wouldn't believe the sounds donkeys make at dawn, and I wonder why only the rooster is known for its morning song, as he is clearly only a part of the chorus as the sun rises. By six all of the wives are out in the courtyard pounding millet and sorghum for the evening meal. It's a slow food culture here, but that's the point. They exchange greetings and I say the words in my head along with them as they ask again about how the job and family are, even though I'm sure nothing has changed since last night.

The day starts and it is loud out, but the loudness is aliveness. The aliveness is the rhythm that defines this place. At ten, we will be sweating and in class and I'll be daydreaming about the riz gras I'm going to have for lunch and I'll have forgotten I'm even in Africa. But as I get up and hear all of the sounds, I can't believe I'm in Burkina and I can't help but smile and be so thankful.

I started this blog to write about my experiences in Burkina. The posts might come slowly. but I hope I can help you understand the beauty of this country through my words and stories.