adaptation

I wish I was once told that Peace Corps is an exercise in extremes. That way I could start this long-overdue blog entry by saying "I once was told that Peace Corps is an exercise in extremes." Since I think I am the first to utilize the expression, I hereby declare the phrase "coined" in my name.

I hope this entry finds all who read it happy, healthy, and enjoying all that they are doing with their lives. So much has happened I don't even know where to start. One thing I know for certain is that my Peace Corps experience has been a series of phases. Myriad phases, actually, some of which overlap one another, which can make processing this whole experience rather difficult...but I will delve into the phases of adaptation, so you can catch a glimpse of life here.

phase I: physical adaptation

In time and with the aide of frequent, violent, immobilizing rain storms I have rendered myself more or less adapted to the hot climate here in Burkina Faso. Two mornings prior, the temperature in my room had dropped to a bone-chilling 78.4 degrees. I exited my house to find Limata, one of my two mothers, sitting in front of the fire she had made to heat up water, shivering. She had wrapped an extra pagne around her body to help keep warm. Now I am not going to lie: for me, Mr. Colorado, ski/snowboard bum, winter enthusiast, t-shirts and chacos in February, 78.4 degrees had a little bit of a bite to it. Still not cold, but it came close. It was wonderful. Physical adaptation, they say, is the easy part. Now that sleeping in a room at night when it is over 100 degrees is a commonality and the occasional 78.4 degree morning requires me to contemplate cracking out my Patagonia R1, I can successfully move on to Phase II: cultural adaptation.

Phase II and its façade of futility

No matter how you attempt to seek similarities, things here are just different. While it must be prefaced that few U.S. Americans know that Burkina Faso is a country, let alone a state that hosts over 60 ethnicities, some Burkinabé misconceptions of the U.S.A. are quite extraordinary. For example, according to many Burkinabé, there are no Black people in the U.S.A. Only white people. And we are all rich. And there is no manual labor. In the U.S.A., all manufacturing, all agriculture, everything, is carried out by machines. While this isn't too far from the truth, we are a far cry from living like the Jetsons. Or are we? It has been two months since I've been in the states.

There is a phrase here "Americans have watches Burkinabé have time". I cannot begin to successfully stress how true this statement is. Throughout PST, I have lived in a village with three other stagiares, Aisha, Chrissy, and Theo. We have various meetings with various groups in the community. Let us say we are planning a meeting with the APE (think parent-teacher association). We, the PST's, would like to have the meeting at 2pm .
Do We....
a) tell the APE the meeting starts at 2pm
b) tell the APE the meeting starts at 1:30pm
or
c) tell the APE the meeting starts at 1pm

If you picked A, congratulations, you've just wasted half of your afternoon, waiting for the group to arrive. If you picked C, DING DING DING, you win! Because the APE members will leave their homes at the time you establish the meeting to commence, it is best to allow one hour, and here's why: After they leave their home, they will probably forget a few things and have to return to their courtyard, but on the way back, they run into their brother-in-law. In Burkinabé tradition, you never sacrifice the opportunity to salutate people, especially family. After 10 minutes of chatting, another brother-in-law arrives. 10 minutes after that...you get the picture. Each member will stop and chat with every person that crosses their path between point A (courtyard) and point b (the school). If I had more time, I'd draw a map, as this is serious stuff here. This is very close to an exact science. If APE member A, B, and C all leave their homes at 1 pm, they will all manage to arrive within 5 minutes of 2pm. No joke. Let my tone not suggest frustration. In fact, it is quite the contrary. I admire a community, a culture, that places personal relationships over deadlines. I can only begin to muse how fewer stress-related ailments the Burkinabé have than their developed country counterparts. Their actions, while lax, do not suggest laziness. Hard work is requisite for survival, just as is an emphasis on community support.

Not all roses...but then again, what is?

One final word about manual labor. I must speak to the unbelievable strength and unrecognized hard work performed by the women of Burkina Faso. Their job is 7 days a week, 18 hours a day. It begins at 4 am and ends long after dark. They cook for their entire family (which is anything but a simple chore, as familes frequently number over 50), they retrieve dozens upon dozens of gallons of water daily, all carried on their head, they clean their courtyards, they bear children, oftentimes once every year, between the ages of 18 and 30. In between household chores, the women take their children and join the men in the fields to cultivate under the hot sun. The women have no rights. Most women, almost all in villages, are forced to marry their husband at the age of 17. And somehow, for some unbeknownst reason, other than a potential lack of consciousness to their unfair situation, these women smile. They laugh. They sing and on occasion, they dance. They are stronger physically than any man in the village, but their culture convinces them that they are weak. They are taught to serve their husbands, to not talk back. I wish I could say I am painting an exaggerated, or a worst-case scenario type picture, but I am not.
And supposedly, this is where I am supposed to come in. Joel Turner, the fearless, sensitized, gender equitable PCV. Easier said than done, right?

Same same but different different

Long story abbreviated, things here are just different. Burkina Faso, much like any developing country, holds onoldson to its traditions, and because of this, one finds priceless gifts of hope and frustrating walls of futility. They are not overcome by making a buck. Burkinabé truly do place People over Profit. But with this benevolent cultural externality, there exists a challenge to change the things that hinder the autonomy and well-being of many. There is no continuum of goodness. Burkina Faso is not a bad country, nor is the United States of America superior. You cannot rank countries, because in doing so, you rank people. And that's just mean, now isn't it?