what? it's only been 10 months.

If you haven’t heard, I’m in the infirmary for the second time since I’ve gotten back from America. I’m pretty much trying to set the peace corps record for most nights in the air-conditioned infirmary, most movies watched, and biggest medical file. I’d say I’m doing alright, especially lately, but down the stretch this last year I’m really gonna have to eat a lot of shady street food, forget to take my medicine, and search for scorpions (none of that is true in case my peace corps doctors are reading this OR my mom who doesn’t like those kinds of jokes but who will surely read this).
*Side note: It might seem as if I am trying to set the record for most blood drawn, but that is simply not true. I hate that record. I’d much rather set the “most times pooped in a cup” record. That means a stool sample when you have diarrhea. I don’t poop in cups for fun.
So first I was plagued with mono which I brought back with me from America. Yes, evidence points to my girlfriend McKenna who kissed me once or so in July. I spent about two weeks in the infirmary and watched 26 movies (It’s true. I have a list). I also had access to the internet and was able to chat with friends back home (thanks babe).
It reminds me of elementary school days when you wanted to be sick so you could stay home with the goal of doing nothing all day. I always loved having a little cold and an excuse to not go to school, so I could sit around and watch TV, drinking ginger ale and munching on saltines while the rest of my friends were suffering at school.
But the situations are also kind of completely different…Last week I was in my village (compared to school), and it was really, really hot, and I think if someone would’ve asked me while I was sitting in the shade and literally dripping sweat if I would rather be sick, but in air-conditioning watching TV, it would’ve been a no-brainer.
But when I actually had to come because of my high fevers and splitting headaches, I wasn’t excited about it. And the reason is transportation in Burkina Faso. I won’t get into that now, but it’s a pain.
However, now that I’m here (besides the recurrent feelings of laziness), I am pretty darn content sitting in the AC. When I arrived I had my blood tested, and though it came up negative, it could’ve been a mild case of malaria (my sickness went away fairly soon after I took the medicine for malaria). Or maybe it was just some other viral illness carried by mosquitoes that ran its course and is done. Either way, I’m feeling fine now. But I’m kind of disappointed in myself…I’ve only watched 4 movies in 4 days.
What’s going on in village: When I was back home my church donated money to help two young, motivated youth build Moringa gardens in my village. You’d be surprised how many complications one could have building gardens with limited resources in Burkina Faso. But finally the two gardens are supposedly ready (we were finishing them when I got sick), and the seeds are being planted. I was hoping that it all could have been done sooner, but I got mono, and then like seventeen hundred other unpredictable little things happened to delay finishing so that we missed the last good month of rain. Ce n’est pas facile. But fear not, we planned for the insanely long dry season and chose to place the gardens in spots where water is always available by digging wells. Donc, ça va aller.
I had two English classes this last month, one for all the students going into their first year of high school, and one for the older high school students. I explained from the start that I wanted girls and not just boys. So the first day when the first year class was composed of 13 boys, I was a little confused. I told them at the end of the class that to teach the next day, I needed a girl. So the next day the 13 boys sat down, and I asked them if they had looked for girls, and they didn’t say anything, but I could tell they hadn’t, and I realized they thought I was joking the day before. So I said I wasn't going to start class until I have at least one girl here (and this wasn’t a ridiculous demand. There were about 20 girls who passed the exam to go to high school in and around my village). So the boys walked out of class annoyed and started searching. They came back saying all the girls were busy and refused. I gave in and taught the class.
For over a week we did this. They would arrive on time, wait a couple minutes in case by a miracle a girl would show up, then I gave them a nod…a nod that to them perhaps meant, yes, the whitey is still crazy and refuses to teach class until they go out and ask the same girls to do something they already refused to do several times. But before they went out one day, one asked, “Why do we have to do this? Now they are mocking us and ask why we keep coming back.” I felt kind of bad at that moment, and then I said, “Tell them you keep coming back because you think the education of a girl is just as important as a boy’s.” I really doubt that’s what they thought, and maybe they didn’t even say that to the girls, but at least the idea is out there now. At the end of the class I explained that my job at the school is to promote girl’s education, and that teaching English to a class of only boys isn’t really doing that job.
Finally, after two weeks a girl showed up. She had been in the fields and hadn’t heard about the class. She was obviously way behind in the material, so I tried to teach her some of what she missed at my house a couple of mornings. A week passed and then I gave the exam (as incentive, i told them that the best score gets an English-French dictionary…kind of a big deal here). I was pretty proud of two boys who nearly aced the exam, and I gave them both a dictionary. Everyone who got at least half of the questions right got some other sort of prize. The girl also did really well. Everything she learned she got right on the exam, but she missed so much material that she wasn’t able to score very high. She actually did much better than about 5 or 6 boys who came from the start.
Moral of the story? High school Burkinabé girls are scared of me unless they are courageous and named Balkissa and were working in the fields. Get this…in the older class, I had one girl. What was her name? Balkissa. Hm. I bet she worked in the fields too. Oh, and the other moral of the story? Girls’ education is super important whether or not people in my village realize it. I am so good at finding morals in stories.
Other news: My older brother, Eric, is coming to visit in November. We’re going to go hiking in Dogon country in Mali, and then if all goes according to plan, he will get to see my village. Then not even a month after he leaves, I will meet my parents and younger brother Jay, in Ghana. We plan on touring Accra and Cape Coast and then spending Christmas on the beach. Then, for New Year’s, we will bus back to Ouaga, and then they will also come see my village. Needless to say, I am looking forward to having them all come visit.
I currently have a non-working camera or I would post pictures. I will make sure that when the family comes (esp the photographer) that we share lots of cool photos of trips and my village.

Steven