It is a Rainy Day...

So, usually when someone says it’s a rainy day, they say it with a sense of melodrama, sadness, and melancholy; like it’s a bad thing.  We even make songs about sadness in terms of rain, “it’s a rainy night in Georgia, a rainy night in Georgia…” or childhood songs asking for this sad/bad thing leave like, “Rain, rain go away, come again another day…”  I am sure that just reading the title of my blog it evoked some since of immediate sadness, that maybe Aisha is sad, or not feeling well, or having a hard time.  And well depending on the perspective and cultural context, your assumption is correct.  However, here, while I am in western Africa and more specifically in Burkina Faso, a rainy day is a joyous occasion.

I guess I will explain a bit about the seasons here in Burkina Faso.  There are two major seasons in Burkina, the dry season and the rainy season.  The rainy season starts towards the end of June/early July and goes through mid October (roughly 4 months).  It usually rains about 2 times a week and very hard rain.  You usually can tell the rain is coming because it is really hot and then all of a sudden clouds come out of nowhere the next day or that night there is a down pour.  I would say that it is about in the 90s and then after the rain the temperature cools off for a day or so.  Everything everywhere is green and plush and looks like a beautiful portrait. Then from the end of October through late January is a dry cold season (about 3 months).  During the day it is in about the 70s and 80s, but at night it can get to the 50s and 60s.  it might not seem cold to you, but if you live in a house without a heating system and no insulation, 50s is a hard chill to shake off…think about the last time you purposely put your thermostat on 50 degrees or when your furnace stopped working and the temperature dropped below 60 in your house…it was cold! There is also a dry wind during this time in December.  From March to May, but mainly April is the dry HOT season!  I mean it is hot!  Most people cannot sleep inside of their house during the hot season at night time if you don’t have a fan or air conditioner (air conditioners are rare) because the house has heated so much from the sun’s rays all day that it feels like an oven inside of the house.  It’s hot during the day and it is hot at night.  I would say around 4am is when it starts to feel semi-cool, but by time it feels like that, it is nearly time to wake up all over again.  It is definitely in the 100s during the day and I would say at night it is in the 90s, but it almost feels like the earth under you is releasing the heat that it has been trapping all day so even though you feel relief from the sun beaming on you, it is still pretty hot.  During both dry seasons everything looks pretty brown and deserted.   

If you are following well, then you know right now is the rainy season.  It is actually toward the end of the rainy season because the rains are becoming sparser.  It was really hot yesterday and earlier today and well…now it is raining.  There is so much going on that makes me feel like everything will be alright, just based on the fact that it rained.  I am nervous/excited because the girls who are coming to live in the boarding house will be moving in tomorrow because school starts on Monday, October 3 (happy birthday Quinton).  My sister called me and then my dad called me a couple of hours later.  About 5 minutes after my dad called the sky started to turn dark and rain clouds moved in.  It has now been pouring outside for about 45 minutes and I am sure it will continue for some time.  According to the culture I am in, the rain is a sign of God’s blessing for the crops and prosperity.  If you arrive from a trip and it rains, it is a sign that you are a blessing to the location.  And so, the rainy day is a celebration and a sort of high five from God that you are here.  Considering the rain today and the feeling I had when I talked to my dad and sister, I must say that I agree that this rain is a sign of the many blessings that my family and God is showering upon me.  I am taking it as a sign that my work will be a blessing to the people of my town and me.  So counter to the popular American culture, I will rejoice and with a big smiley face say, “IT’S A RAINY DAY :-)!!”

(written October 1)

Happy Birthday Peace Corps!

All over the world Peace Corps volunteers, their host country national co-workers and families in the USA people are celebrating the legacy of the amazing organization that Kennedy put into place.  Thank you for your vision, and your belief that we all have something to share and to learn, and that development is all about empowerment.  I am a firm believer and hopeful optimistic in the core values of Peace Corps.  I bet you can tell, since this is my second time around…  It means a lot to me to be here, as a Peace Corps Response volunteer in the country I served in originally during the 50^th anniversary year.  It is the perfect return.   So let the festivities begin!

September 22, 2011 was the opening ceremony and swearing in of the new 47 Peace Corps Volunteers for the education sector as well as agriculture.  They arrived in country in June and swore in at an amazing reception where the primary minister of Burkina Faso spoke and welcomed them into the country.  Our current US Ambassador swore them in and then we began a weekend long fair!  Peace Corps volunteers from all over the country left their posts with their Burkinabe counterparts and had awareness building talks on various topics including hygiene, family planning, nutrition, deforestation, and more.  There were artisans associations selling locally made goods, educational/informational booths on just about any topic you can think of, a fashion show, games including a dunking booth, music, food folks and fun.   The fair went through Sept 24^th and the closing ceremony was graced by the presence of the first lady of Burkina Faso, Chantel Compaore.  There was a photographer who took my picture while shaking her hand, once I get it I will share J. 

The highlight of the closing ceremony for me, however, was Floby, a local singer who is making a name for himself internationally.  He wrote a song to thank Peace Corps.  It is so beautiful and sent chills down my spine as he sang it for the first time publically at our ceremony.  He has had a unique relationship with Peace Corps volunteers and also with everyone he comes in contact with.  He is a very simple person and his fame has never gone to his head.  I can think of more than one occasion of him just being around and hanging out with people.  I assume that this record will be around for many years to come.  I am not sure how long this link will work, but click here: www.youtube.com/watch?v=TUO2ZPiwMRM

It was an amazing time of celebration and I am proud to be included amongst the names of some of the most interesting American citizens.  Returned Peace Corps Volunteers are everywhere and doing various things.  They are doctors, lawyers, housewives, non-profit founders, teachers, CEOs, softball coaches, mentors, students, researchers, sisters, brothers, neighbors, and more.  No matter what they are doing, and where they are now, I am connected to them, in a kinship that I cannot describe in words that one would understand, but I love them, and am proud of them.  They have an interesting perspective about life, its challenges, and the possibilities that life holds.  So congratulations to every current and returned Peace Corps Volunteer.  You are my (s)heroes! 

Also, thank you to every country that has openly accepted and worked with each of us.  Our adjustments were at times hard, and our perspectives were sometimes off the mark, but you are and were patient through our process of learning and growing.  And we have all benefited from your teaching, and our hope is that each country has benefited from our exchange.  And I hope the exchange continues beyond the time that Peace Corps volunteers are needed in each country.  The hope is that through mutual understanding and respect, positive relationships and peace will be spread throughout the world.  Finally, to those of you who have ever considered being a part of this organization, I firmly suggest that you look it up, and start the application process, you will be amazed by the growth that you will experience, and the things you will be able to share with your hosting communities.  And if you cannot leave the country and serve somewhere else, the Peace Corps’ guiding goals can be applied to whatever communities you work in.  Let’s spread peace all over the world! 

For more information about Peace Corps go to: www.peacecorps.gov and for info about Peace Corps in Burkina Faso: http://pcburkina.org

Childlike Imaginations Always = FUN!

So, I am trying to be somewhat patient about the weeds growing up in my yard.  My neighbors have even tried to come up with a plan on how to trick my landlord into doing it quicker.  One day I called and let him know that I would be home alllllll day so he can send people to get them up.  That didn’t work.  I thought about just paying for it myself, but someone else told me that the landlord won’t pay me back so just be patient and let him do it.  What can I say…I am still waiting.

In the meantime, the neighborhood kids came over so they could show me how to read the water counter at my house.  For every drop of water that I use there is a little counter outside that tells how much I have used.  It might sound like I have never had running water at my house, but honestly, at home in America if the utility bill didn’t come in the mail to say how much water was consumed and how much I need to pay for the month, I would have no idea.  And sadly, I can’t even verify if it is right.  I kinda like being able to go outside and check to see exactly how much water I am using and be able to verify when the bill comes at the end of the month that they have not miscalculated.  Enough of the aside; getting back to the story.

The kids came over to show me where to read the water usage, and while they were there they decided to help me out by getting up some of the weeds by my outdoor water spigot.  That turned into a whole world of fun!!  A bunch of them started a game where they ripped them out of the ground and then threw them over the wall.  Next thing you know like 6 boys in the neighborhood and my favorite little girl were throwing the stuff over the tall wall of my yard.  And like most kids, they exerted too much energy and got tired so their minds and imaginations started wondering and they found something else to do.  The ring leader was my next door neighbor’s kid.  He is a twin and he is pretty cocky, but seems to figure out a way to do the least amount of work possible.  So as you can imagine he was the first to chill out on the hard labor of getting rid of the weeds in my yard.  I have no complaints because it was a nice gesture for them to look out for their “Tanti” (this is a pet name like auntie that they call me) and get the weeds up anyway.   Using his childhood imagination and all the random things one can find in my yard, he started picking up nails and pieces of wood.  I was curious as to what he would do when he searched intently and then found a rock and started pounding away…

Slowly, one by one the work crew died down and everyone had pieces of wood and searching for nails and good rocks to use as hammers.  “Qu’est que c’est?”  I ask them what it is that they are making.  It looks like little crosses so I was not sure if they were religious or what…nope, they were making swords for their sword fight!  It was hilarious.  It was like all of the movies they have ever seen.  You know how when kids make the “ching, ching” noise when the swords hit and then they fake a death and fall on the ground.  They stuck the swords in their pants like sword holsters.  It was great!  It was hard to get an action shot of them actually sword fighting because they wanted to make their mean sword faces and pose for the camera, but nonetheless, it was a great ending to my evening.  I absolutely love kids and the freedom of their imaginations.  They inspire me to look around at what seems to be leftover junk from constructing my house and envision masterpieces.  I hope to take their childlike imaginations into every aspect of my life.  I also challenge you to do the same.  What seems like broken and fragmented pieces can come together, you just have to look for it.

(written Sept 19)

Extreme Home Makeover Part 2

I knew something else crazy would happen!  Today 3 little boys came to my house and asked if they could let 4 cows come into my yard.  “Pourquoi?!” (that means why), I asked them.  You will never guess why…I have a bunch of weeds growing up to high heaven in my yard and the cows could use something to eat.  I know, it is quite ridiculous!  The guy is supposed to come and get rid of them this week so I am not too worried about my yard becoming the cow lunch hang out, but it is sure helpful for them to mow it down a little with their cows.  Who would have thought!  Hahaha…I guess that is how things go in rural towns.  If a cow needs something to eat, he better find some high grass.  Thanks cows for getting the show on the road because Lord knows the weeds are growing pretty high now…

(written Sept 14)

Extreme Home Makeover: Aisha is in Burkina Faso Edition

I smell like gasoline.  Yes, you read that right…The smell of me is making me nauseous.  I washed, but the smell is still there.  I am sure that the people sitting in the internet café with me right now are wondering if someone just spilled gas when they went to the gas station.  Please let me explain…

I got some tables made so I can have counter space in my house.  Here the norm is that everything you buy, you must be prepared to haggle and discuss the price.  It is a fun sport, when you feel like doing it.  Last week I didn’t feel like it.  The guy who made my tables and is currently making my book shelves and I debated about the price for a good 20 minutes.  Finally, I asked him, will the furniture be varnish included in the price?  He told me no, but if I wanted to add the cost of the varnish and the oil to thin is out, I could feel free.  I decided against it and said just make the stuff and I will varnish it myself.  Why not?  I have done it before.  Here is where all of my troubles began.

So the other day I went to the market to buy some varnish and the person who took me to find it insisted that I get some sort of oil to thin it out.  My options were essence, or petrol.  I should look it up and find out what exactly essence is in English…but I am most certain it is gasoline…and well petrol, I don’t know…it is somewhere in the family.  I don’t know the difference between the two, but I decided on essence because the station was directly across the street from boutique where I bought the varnish.  Yep!  Just like gasoline is came out of the pump like when you go to the gas station.  Looks like it and smells like it…essence is gasoline. 

Continuing with the story…I mixed some essence  with the varnish in an empty tuna can and stirred it with my paint brush.  I think I added too much because well, heck, I didn’t know how much to add in the first place.  I just wanted to varnish the furniture!  As I smoothed the varnish and gasoline mixture all over my table and continued to inhale that nauseating smell, I thought…”hmm…if this is the table I am going to put my gas stove on, is this really prudent to douse the entire WOODEN table in GASOLINE?!  Probably not!”  Then I started thinking that maybe people cut it with oil so that the varnish will last longer and they can use it on more than one item.  I do recall when I was buying it that the guy told me not to get too much because I could make it thinner with some sort of oil.  After reflecting, I decided then to no longer use the gas mixture, well because in terms of infrastructure, I can’t quite think of the last fire station I have seen in all of Burkina…let alone in my small town.

I finally finished varnishing my two tables.  (One if for my stove and the other is for counter space.)  I used the entire liter of varnish and have none left for my two large shelves that will likely be delivered to my house this weekend.  I have to buy more varnish and on top of that, as I finished up the last table I noticed a nosey little fly decided to get stuck and die on my first table!  I guess the moral of the story is, just pay the extra cost for labor because at this point I have to buy more varnish, figure out how to get the fly off without smashing him into the varnish and I smell like gasoline!

Stay tuned for the next episode…

The Continuous Cycle-Work

Background/Needs Assessments:  Students in secondary school often have to travel far from their homes daily to attend class.  Often there are primary schools within the villages or in a neighboring village.  However secondary schools are often in the provincial or regional capital, which means the students have to travel sometimes 8 miles or more to attend middle and high school.  it is most efficient for the student’s time, as most of them walk or bike to and from school, to be able to stay in the town for the school year.  This way they can actually study after school instead of walking 3 hours and then getting home to do chores, eat and sleep.  Finding housing for boys is pretty easy.  A family friend or distant relative will let boys stay.  Or even sometimes a group of boys will get a small house together.  From what I hear they often can’t cook very well, but they learn quickly (that was a joke).

Community Need: The same is not always true for young girls.  There are several concerns that occur with girls staying far away from home.  Because of the cultural norms of girls being the housekeepers, when girls stay with distant relatives, they are, at times, expected to cook, and clean…which makes it hard for them to actually get the studying done they need to be doing.  If a bunch of girls stay in a house together, with little supervision, they are vulnerable to undesired pregnancies, exposure to STI’s, etc.  As people here often say, “they spoiled the girl”…meaning so got pregnant.  Obviously girls are not having sex by themselves to get pregnant, but the consequences are easily seen when their stomachs grow.  The community’s desire for a place to lodge girls in a secure area where they can be protected from outside vulnerabilities, learn good decision making skills, and self-confidence birthed the community house, where I will be working.  Through the efforts of UNICEF, the local government, and other organizations, the Community House for Girls was created. 

 Action Plan and Implementation: The community house can house up to 100 girls, they are 2 large dorms with beds, showers, a cafeteria, study rooms, a location to house a female director, and infirmary.  The space is enclosed by large walls surrounding the campus pretty close to the center of the town so girls can easily walk (or bike) to the different schools within 20 minutes.  A Peace Corps Response Volunteer was requested to work alongside the organizations involved to ensure sustainability.  In a nutshell, I will be engaged in the activities of the community house as well as helping to build the capacity of the community to continue to provide a safe and supportive environment for the girls.  Some of the activities to be done with the director include training in decision-making and life skills, study skills, organizing extracurricular activities.  Within the community, the intention is to be able to leave a set of tools that can be implemented to ensure the sustainability of the project, so connecting administration, teachers, parents, and community organizations to work together to provide a supportive education for girls is critical.   I will likely work with some boys in the surrounding schools as well, so they too will learn these critical skills, as it is all so interconnected.  Interesting enough, the hope is that this community house can be a model for other districts to replicate. 

So why did I set this blog up with background, community need, and finally an action plan?  You guessed it!  Community development comes from within the community and will only be sustainable if you know the scope and continuously check the loop to make sure it is still working.  It is an ongoing cycle.  Since I just got to my post after training in the capital, I am currently in the background gathering phase of my project.  I am beginning with an “Etude de Milieu” which is literally a study of the area, or better known as a community analysis.  Based on the information gathered from the community, we can work together to identify the specific community needs within the project I am assigned to, and finally write an action plan on how to carry it out, evaluate, and then celebrate! 

What is our philosophy of development?  Development is any process that promotes the dignity of a people and their capacity to improve their own lives.  My intention is not to tear down a culture, accuse, or do what I think is best.  The solutions to the concerns within the community are grown from the ideas of the community members itself.  I am here simply to support that process.  Loa Tse said it best:

“Go to the people,

Learn from them,

Start with what they know,

Build on what they have…

But the best of leaders, when their work is done,

The task is finished,

The people will say,

‘We have done it ourselves’”

Read it: The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

As odd as this may sound, reading this book during my stay in Africa as a Peace Corps Volunteer is crucial to how I view and interact with the world at this time.  So while you, the reader(s) of my blog may find it odd that I am taking a moment away from blogs about Burkina Faso and the culture, my work, and life here, I find it fitting and so very connected.  For if you do not know me and how I view the world, it is difficult to understand the lens I use to interpret and navigate God’s creation.

First things first, READ THE IMMORTAL LIFE OF HENRIETTA LACKS.  It is the true story of the woman whose cells (HeLa) that are used by scientist world-wide in research and creation of various vaccines, such as for polio and HPV, and various studies on different types of cancer and also HIV/Aids.  It is fascinating to know that this African American woman from Clover, Virginia has contributed so much to science.  The catch is it was without her knowledge, nor the knowledge of her family.  She was treated in the early 50’s for cervical cancer at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland.  Hopkins is recognized as one of the leading institutions of medical research and study. (side note: I know a guy who told me he was hoping to get a scholarship, and did, to Hopkins after his Peace Corps service, and immediately, in my mind he was placed into a category that I consider highly respected and astute.  He was already on my list of “interesting people” since he finished his Peace Corps service in my village.  You gotta be a tough cookie to do that ::wink:: :-)).  Before Henrietta was treated with radiation for her cervical cancer, her doctor took a biopsy of the cancerous tissue on her cervix and also her normally growing tissue.  At the time, doctors and researchers were trying desperately, but always failing at keeping cell cultures alive.  Hers (the cancerous ones) not only stayed alive, but 60 some years later continue to multiply and reproduce.  This story however, is not just about cells that scientist have studied for the past few decades, it is the story of her, her family, and their struggle to understand what happened to their loved one.  Her legacy was carried through her 5 children, who struggled through life being motherless at a young age becoming victims of abuse, poverty, and unfortunately not ever being able to take advantage of the healthcare their mother’s cells helped to create.  It is a story of the struggle of Black Americans, women, poverty, and family.  Everyone must read it!

The story touches home for me for many different reasons, including my passage through life as a young woman understanding the world without the guidance of my beloved mother and friend, Sharon Magenta Simmons Johnson.  (Simmons is her maiden name).  While my situation was different because I was 23 when my mother passed away and the children of Henrietta was very young, her youngest was but a few months old.  The idea of my mother dealing with health complications that led to an early demise coincides with the story of this family.  Thankfully, I am not a victim of abuse, however, I know that it is real and effects people in astounding ways and I have witnessed its effects in persons I know very well.  The most touching of all, is the immortality of Henrietta Lacks.  She lives forever because her cells continue to live and will likely never die.  Her cells can wrap around the world 2 times by now and take over cell cultures that it encounters, its air born and ever-present.  My mother does not have some scientific connection to the world to my knowledge at this time, but I hope that her spirit infectiously lives through everything I do, all the places I go, and no matter where I am in the world, people feel, see, hear, and believe in all the best parts of who Sharon Johnson was and is.  My mother was born on October 31, 1952 and died September 27, 2007.  Much like Deborah, the daughter of Henrietta Lacks, I want to whole world to know my mother and what she means to me.  Like I said earlier, if you do not know me, then it is impossible for you to understand how I interpret and interact with the world that surrounds me.  So I am taking the time now to make a tribute to Henrietta Lacks, the foundation that was created to help educate her living offspring, and to my own Immortal mother, Sharon Johnson.  Maybe one day I too will write a book about her life, her love, and her struggles. 

Dear Mommy,

Thank you for all you have done in my life.  Thank you for allowing me to explore myself as a person spiritually, emotionally, and intellectually.  You hand wrote and drew “My Baby’s First Book”, making sure that all words and illustrations reflected my loved ones and surroundings.  I will never forget hours of you helping me learn to read.  Even though you insisted that there was nothing wrong with me and you knew that I would get it…”Just sound it out” is what you would say.  Haha…it wasn’t until I went to college, after maintaining great grades in high school, and studying hard, that I was finally diagnosed with a reading disability.  But through your hard work and effort, and our tireless word games like scrabble, boggle, crossword puzzles, and word searches, on top of summers filled with math and reading assignments before play time, most people including myself would have never known that I struggled in that area.  But college was a new bird!  3 or 4 professors expected at least 100 pages read by the next class was overwhelming!  I was in over my head trying to read almost 400 pages for different classes.  I later found out that most of my classmates were not reading all of it either…just enough to discuss in class and reading the articles that interested them the most, but how was I supposed to know that?!   Haha…but even then, you told me not to be discouraged.  “Aisha, you went to the classes one at a time, so do the work one assignment at a time.”  Such simple, yet ingenious wisdom like this is what encourages me to continue to push for higher heights and also push other young people along.  My students used to think I was hard on them.  “Man, Ms. Johnson, I don’t have homework for any other teacher ever night, but yours!”  The funny thing is, those same students who had behavior problems, and low achievement in other classes made it through my class and later respected me for being so hard on them.  That was your doing...your immortality.  You believed that circumstances didn’t make the people and they had the ability to push through, so why not try.  On behalf of my students, “thanks Momma J”. 

And Lord did you know how to be a cheerleader!  You embarrassed the heck out of me all the time!  It didn’t matter what I did, you told the world like it was the most awesome thing you had ever seen.  “Aisha got honor roll,” and “did I show you the choir tape of my children singing?”  Most of the time I didn’t even know who the people were who knew me or about me but, I was one of “Sharon’s kids” so I was subject to being known by every person you encountered.  I still have letters you wrote, pictures you drew, and most importantly, special memories of you.  I used to have your voice on a digital recorder, but that was somehow lost.  Guess what, I’m going to get you back and tell everyone I come in contact with about you, Mommy!   I love you dearly, and hope that I continue to make you proud through everything I do.  May your spirit live on and you rest in peace.

Love Always,

Esha-Mesha