All the way across the ocean (Which, if you think about it, isn't that far! You know, a visitable distance.) we celebrated the very American holiday of Thanksgiving. All the PCTs split up into groups and helped prepare various things for the feast. We had a stuffing committee, mashed potato group, turkey and chicken chefs, a non-cooking group that handled drinks and decorations, etc. And we also convinced the PC staff that we should have half the day off from training in order to cook. Because cooking over coals and wood is quite a different experience from cooking in the US. Though also surprisingly simple, which makes you wonder if all the different stove settings and various types of cookware are really all that necessary. You can do a lot with just a marmite (basically like a cauldron), and some heat.
The PC logistician/driver was scheduled to go around to pick up everyone's food at around 4:30 pm. But that was not accounting for “African time,” which means that everything generally always runs late. It seems that almost every country I travel to has a different version of “African time.” In Ecuador, it was “Latin American time,” and you shouldn't be surprised if someone you were meeting came half an hour after the proposed time. Anyway, we finally got all our food to the training center at about 6:20. And after another half hour or so, the PC staff arrived. Finally, it was time to dig in! There were tables covered with delicious food, as you can kind of see in the pictures. And for dessert, our Country Director made us cookies. A box full of them. Needless to say, we were all stuffed after the dinner. And then it was time for the dance party! Some PCTs had spent quite a bit of time working on a dance party playlist, and that was showcased as various PCTs and PCVFs (the PCVs helping with training) showed off their moves. It was a great way to celebrate Thanksgiving, and nice that all of us could spend the night together at the training center, since we only have about 3 weeks before leaving for site and being separated by many kilometers and difficult transportation.
More on daily life
I'm not sure how many times I've slept fully through the night without waking up once, but I could probably count the number on one hand. Various factors, such as heat (at the beginning of training), cold (Now that we're in cold season. Like, a staggering 60 F. This requires a sheet as a blanket) and animal cries (donkeys make some weird sounds) make it difficult to get too well rested. For a while, I was constantly waking up before my alarm, which was set for 6:30 am. But recently, I've fallen back into my old habit of pressing the snooze button and delaying the getting up process for as long as possible. This is partially because I have started dreading showers. At first, having a running water shower seemed great and convenient. But now, because it's cold in the morning and there is no hot water setting, I have to mentally prepare for that first blast of water. Bucket bathing, though slightly more cumbersome, allows for the option of heating up water for a shower. I know I could probably ask my host family to heat up water for me, but I don't want to inconvenience them, and I feel that I should be getting the most out of running water while I have it.
Another daily occurrence is the yelling of “nasara,” or foreigner in Moore, any time we're spotted. As one of the PCTs put it, for the Burkinabe children, seeing us is practically the equivalent of seeing an elephant walking down the street in the US. In which case, American children would probably also scream “Elephant!” at the top of their lungs. Though we understand that yelling “nasara” isn't meant to be hurtful in any way, you still kind of get tired of it. As another PCT said, there's really no way to calm down the yelling. You just have to kind of take it in stride. It's actually kind of amazing how quickly children can spot a foreigner. Even biking at night, when it's really dark and you can barely see the road, you'll still be greeted with “nasara.” Though maybe with our mountain bikes, lights and helmets, the last of which is generally not used in Burkina, we just look like some strange creatures.
And a quick side note on mail. It generally takes letters or packages about 2-3 weeks to get to the PC in Ouaga. And we're leaving for site in 3 weeks. And my site is way far from Ouaga. Thus, if you would like to send me mail in the next few weeks, feel free to, but just be warned that I might not get it for a while (though one of my neighbors who'll be in the capital for a few weeks after swear in has graciously agreed to bring me my mail when he moves to his site)! The next time I'll be back in the capital is in about 3 months, though occasionally PC cars will bring us mail at site if they happen to be in the area. Considering my lack of close neighbors, this scenario is probably pretty unlikely for me, unless a PC staff member is coming specifically to visit me. Also, since my site has a post office, I'll most likely try to open up a PO box once I get there in December, and might be able to get things forwarded from the PC office. So, all of this is to say that I'm not ignoring you if I don't reply to your mail for a while!
*Also, I've been told not to put names in blogs, so from now on, I'll most likely just refer to people by their initials!
*Also, I've been told not to put names in blogs, so from now on, I'll most likely just refer to people by their initials!
