One of the wonderful ideas I'd had for my time here came to live in an even bigger form in The Gambia. I sing while washing my clothes, which always attracts a crowd. I've been trying to learn health-related songs in Maninka, but so far I still don't know them well enough to try. Some volunteers in The Gambia, with better local-language training, have written songs and are putting together a concert they will move around from town to town with for a bit, so teach people about various things. This is a clip of a demo song, complete with translation, about how to make and why to use a mosquito repellent.
Short version of Newsletter IST info
As Raven kindly pointed out to everyone we met, as soon as we met them, I went to The Gambia because I’m a nerd and she went to put a positive social face on the rest of the PCVs in Guinea. I think we represented our respective roles quite well.
We stayed for sessions they held that we have already covered in PST. Those sessions ended up being very useful because they do things slightly differently than what we have learned, they did additional things there, and in several sessions, they took their learning to a greater depth than what we’ve covered. Some of that can be chalked up to second-year PCVs and the rest is due to their having had time to experiment at site for several months with things they touched on during PST to cover in-depth at IST. Agfos used to write home about playing in poop, now we’re going to start writing home about how you use our own poop to fertilize your garden and our own urine to fertilize our tree nurseries. I also learned how to compost a donkey.
Topics we have new info (different amounts for each topic) about and will always be seeking new info about: beekeeping and its derivatives, biodigesters, woodlots, sustainable motivation techniques, rabbit raising, pest detection, business aspects of beekeeping and agroforestry, out planting trees, running a nursery, neem mosquito repellent, sisal use in live fencing, grafting, germination beds, top working, poultry raising, bio fuels, dealing with diseased trees, propagation and uses of many species of tree, and integrated pest management.
We stayed for sessions they held that we have already covered in PST. Those sessions ended up being very useful because they do things slightly differently than what we have learned, they did additional things there, and in several sessions, they took their learning to a greater depth than what we’ve covered. Some of that can be chalked up to second-year PCVs and the rest is due to their having had time to experiment at site for several months with things they touched on during PST to cover in-depth at IST. Agfos used to write home about playing in poop, now we’re going to start writing home about how you use our own poop to fertilize your garden and our own urine to fertilize our tree nurseries. I also learned how to compost a donkey.
Topics we have new info (different amounts for each topic) about and will always be seeking new info about: beekeeping and its derivatives, biodigesters, woodlots, sustainable motivation techniques, rabbit raising, pest detection, business aspects of beekeeping and agroforestry, out planting trees, running a nursery, neem mosquito repellent, sisal use in live fencing, grafting, germination beds, top working, poultry raising, bio fuels, dealing with diseased trees, propagation and uses of many species of tree, and integrated pest management.
Photos from beekeeping IST in The Gambia
The Gambia: home to one of Peace Corps' best agroforestry programs, site of a beekeeping IST I was fortunate enough to attend with Raven. Unfortunately, she took most of the good pictures on the trip, but doesn't want to share them with me. I'll keep working on her and maybe I'll get some posted after several months. Until then, here are a few:
The beach. Our last afternoon in The Gambia saw a little time to relax tossed to us like a bone still covered in fresh, well roasted beef. It was a lot of fun.
Much to my relief, the director of Peace Corps, whom I met in The Gambia, meant at least one of The Gambia's newspapers decided to tell everyone we're not affiliated with American intelligence. Keeping with the theme of important people I saw in The Gambia, we saw the president of The Gambia in a middle of a session where we learned how to fertilize with urine. Being truly apolitical, I didn't go shake his hand, but all the Gambian PCVs did. Check their blogs, I know at least two of them took photos of him.
Crossing a river in Guinea on a ferry. I made sure not to waste any time and ate two mangos during the less-than-ten-minute crossing.
This ferry apparently doesn't sink, even with heavily loaded Peace Corps cars.
Critter Encounters Part 1
Friday, April 11, 2008
One of the advantages to living somewhere instead of just passing through is you have a much greater ability to see animals. They have no trouble hiding from you for a day, a week, or even a month. Yet as those months pile up it gets harder and harder to miss seeing your cohabitants.
They range from the mundane - a pet baboon on a chain - to the fascinating - ants that create a living tunnel with the soldiers' bodies to protect streams of workers within. Those soldiers are tiny, but as my colleague found out, they bite hard enough to draw blood.
Duuduu
Ant lions, from what I thought I knew about them, are both disappointing and phenomenal. They're a lot smaller than their name suggests. I first saw one when two bees were rolling around in a trap. I thought they were killing each other, but my homologue commented that one was so nice as to try to save the other. That piqued my interest, and I had to get closer to the action. One died in the trap, the other got away. I've experimented by dropping ants into the traps and rescuing them after about a minute.
I once managed to dig up an ant lion and toss it in a fellow lion's trap. The latter tried to eat the former, but in the end they both scuttled away and abandoned that trap. After I finish playing with them, they fix up their traps, flinging sand around until once more they're laying patiently at the apex of a slippery, inverted cone.
Koson
Just over a month ago I was collecting cow manure to fertilize a garden bed. It was normal agroforestry work; I rip chunks of manure up from the giant heap, smash them into small pieces, toss them into a bucket, and bike them back to the garden bed. I used to bring along my daba - a hoe-like tool - to chop up the pieces, but it kept falling apart and then off my bike. It was a bigger headache than help. Since abandoning it, I kick chunks loose, or else dive into the hardened mass with both hands to rip off larger chunks.
This fine day, I ripped up a particularly well-sized chunk and luckily staggered back to catch my balance as it came loose. A red scorpion scuttled from the new top of the chunk and into a hole on its side. My thirst for knowledge ever present, I flagged down a passing Guinean to ask him what the local name for scorpion is (koSON). His eyes widened nicely, but then he decided I should play with it. He broke off the stinger with a stick and started tossing it from hand to hand. I refused to touch it, and he finally disposed of it in the bush.
The entire day's lesson came to nothing for me. Several weeks later found me moving bricks from a pile in front of my hut into my enclosed backyard where I'm building a tower to smoke meat. As I hoisted the last few bricks, the kids who were helping me shouted "Koson!" By the time I remembered what that meant, it was too late, and it had stung me on the thumb.
I danced around hollering and cursing poisonous animals to the concerned amusement of the usual crowd of curious Guineans. Then I found the scorpion, obliterated it with a broken brick, and dug out my health manual. The wonderful advice therein said if I wasn't allergic, I wouldn't die. It recommended Aspirin and a papaya compress to denature the scorpion's toxin. Perhaps the papaya would have worked if I'd been able to either inject it or ask the scorpion to sting me through a layer of papaya, because I didn't feel any better after using it. The Guineans wanted me to put gasoline on it, but I decided one type of injury was enough for the moment. I did consent to a toothpaste poultice so they would feel helpful. I don't mind saying the toothpaste did not help.
While the pain was still fresh, I was able to think clearly enough to make an awful video (see post Videos 2) that does no justice to the eventual swelling of my hand, and shows industrious ants already carting off the remnants of the smear the scorpion had become. I thereafter devoured my remaining comfort food - I knew I was saving it for something good - and opened up a letter my mother had packed away for me before I ever even left the States.
Apparently I was supposed to have opened it on my second day in country, but whatever, I appreciated it a lot more while searching for something to take my mind off the pain.
I sang with my iPod, I tried to read a comfort book, then I gave up, sprawled on my bed, and tried to pretend I didn't have a right arm. I was up until three or four a.m. in intense pain, which spread through my shoulder and very slowly receded. Twenty-four hours later, the pain was confined to my thumb and I was able to pretend I was interested in work again.
Lee (those es sound like the e in egg, not like the jeans)
Muslims don't eat pork, but all the hunters here kill warthogs left and right. Being both numerous and a terror in every farmer's fields, they really can't expect much else.
After much searching, I finally was able to contact a hunter who had killed one and was willing to take me to it. It was straight out of The Lion King, except it weighed easily 200 pounds, had ticks, and didn't sing. Before we even began to butcher it, we were distracted by a nearby fire from some guys who were harvesting honey. They were chopping away at a tree, sticking smoking sticks into the hole, and withdrawing dripping chunks of honey comb. Sometimes they even pulled out chunks of brood comb (full of larvae, not honey). We watched them until they finished, they gave us some bee-covered honeycomb, and then they put out the fire and left us with our hog.
It took over two hours to cut up the hog and get it home. Then it took over two more hours to skin and butcher it. I stuck half of it into brine and set the other half aside for the only other non-Muslim in town. Unfortunately, what I learned after the fact, is that it's way too hot here to even think about curing ham in brine in Haute Guinea and all my meat, with the exception of some excellent ribs Nyari and I enjoyed the night I butchered it, rotted.
Since then, I have continued construction of the aforementioned smoking tower. I haven't yet gotten another hunter to bring me a warthog, but I did make a valiant effort to chase down four warthogs I saw while riding my bike last week. It's just as well that my water bottle fell, because my visions of jumping onto it like a rodeo-style calf tying competition probably wouldn't have ended well.
Photos 2
One of the last mornings we had to travel for a training session I was able to capture this image crossing a bridge in Basse Guinea. It has a bit more special meaning for me now because I saw fog again this week for the first time since I took this photo when coming into Conakry from Haute Guinea. I have to admit I got pretty excited to see so much water just dancing around the morning breezes. We get particles waltzing through our air in Haute Guinea, but dust is never so nice as water.
It's pretty hot in Haute Guinea, so there are nights we all pull our mattresses into the living room and crash on the floor en masse. Lately, though, we've taken to pulling the mattresses outside onto the porch (see photo below) where we're each able to set up a mosquito net.
Just before installation, I was able to capture a wonderful moment at the Kankan transit house. Reading is a popular hobby here, as is washing clothes.Videos 2
The mine is the favorite pasttime of all the youth and most of the women in my town. It's unfortunate because they don't make much money there, people frequently get hurt, and they could actually make a lot more money if they improved their agricultural skills and expanded production. But the dreams of getting rich quick usually win out - look at all the gold rushes in American history.
This is not the big spider, but I finally remembered to video the hunt. You see how he doesn't see the spiders, but the moment they move, they're toast. It takes a while to get him going - you can hear me trying to blow on the spider to get it moving, but since the cat was in one hand and the camera in the other, it was hard to blow accurately so I had to simply push him into it in the end. And as you can see, that was the end.
I claim it was a tie score. The reality, as you can see, is that the scorpion is already being devoured by ants and I am still alive to video the aftermath. I should have given myself two points.
Packing information for future volunteers
This post will be boring to anyone who is not soon to be a PCT in Guinea; or at least West Africa. Else I'm a horrible judge of what's interesting and this post will be the most phenomenal window into my life ever.
Having had a very difficult time finding information relevant to what I should pack, I will be frank and up front about what I brought that is very relevant and what I've bought online or had sent to me. I probably forgot stuff and that means it's not all that important to me.
IMPORTANT: buy quality. Do not sell yourself short; you will regret it. This refers to shoes and gear. I will refer to some specific stuff later on and make comments all along the way - I'm trying to make this list as easy to read and as informative as possible. Please feel free to contact me with any questions or comments you have. I am more than willing to answer questions and help as much as I can - just keep in mind my Internet access is sporadic. I will reply as soon as I get a question, though. Just comment, and it will go into my inbox at which point I can reply to you, well I don't know how, but I'll be cold in Guinea before I put my e-mail address up in a public place for the world to see.
Clothing:
You should believe people who tell you clothing is for Pre-Service Training only. It is very easy and cheap to get clothes made here. Also, there are markets, which are either called friperie or the dead-white-person market, where you can buy American or European clothes that have been donated by various charity organizations. Yes, dead-white-person market; why on earth would someone give away perfectly good clothing? That question makes a lot more sense when you realize people wear clothes beyond the point at which they're falling off their bodies.
Also, keep in mind two things: I'm male and I'm an agroforestry volunteer (you will probably be expected to dress nicer than I did both during PST and at site - you won't be playing in anywhere near as much cow and chicken manure as I have). I've asked a female for input, but as I am not a female, well, read my last post to decide for yourself whether I really am.
For PST:
Pants - three or four pairs: zip-offs are great, khakis (one pair) will come in very handy, and I brought and absolutely love to pieces (literally, they've been patched twice already by a very cheap tailor) my cargo pants; no jeans - it's way too hot.
Shirts - I brought four collared shirts that are supposed to draw sweat off you, etc. and I love them. I brought four T-shirts; you can buy a slew here, but they were useful. I also brought three collared, button-down shirts; they're useful for being in the various Peace Corps bureaus and I wore them frequently during PST.
Socks - I stopped wearing shoes after three days and now only wear them in the bush at night. Bring some socks you'll play sports in - aka to run or shoot hoops in (there's a basketball court at the training site). Again - education volunteers are told to wear shoes, but from what they say, it's too hot and most wear nice sandals (this information from a male volunteer in the coldest region in Guinea).
Underwear - I brought seven pairs of briefs and four pairs of boxers. I think boxers are worse in intense heat; others disagree. Go with what you prefer in heat. Katie's advice (http://tckinguinea.blogspot.com/): If you don't want to do laundry often, 70 pairs of panties (she admits she's extreme), and 13 bras (3 are sports bras). Obviously others bring fewer pairs. Here's a kicker: I get underwear sent to me as padding in boxes because they really don't survive the washboard. I have a stock of new pairs that I rotate in when an old pair disintegrates. I know that last sentence just made my mother happy; I don't like to throw away clothes until they're absolutely useless - I have some very old things here with me.
Hat - I brought an awesome hat with a wide, floppy brim and a mesh/solid top combo. It's fantastic for the heat. It doesn't matter if you think it will make you stand out and look stupid - you will anyway because you're American and you just won't be able to hide it. The two black girls in our group have complained that Guineans called them white simply because they're American. So a hat will just make you comfortable. Besides, the Guineans will all be jealous of you anyway. I also bought a straw hat because I was tired of my brim always blowing in my face when it's windy. I still use the one I brought all the time, though - it travels much better than a straw hat and is cooler.
Katie also recommends Underarmour sweat stuff and any lightweight pants as well as lots of shirts because you will sweat a lot - especially during PST as your body still gets used to the heat. Can you tell I'm sitting next to her as I write this? Anyway, it's good to get multiple opinions.
Bring one light-weight sweater. It is sometimes chilly and you will feel cold eventually - again when you get used to the heat, or in the mornings and evenings at different times of the year according to your region.
I did not bring any light-weight, long-sleeved shirts. Some would recommend one or two just to help keep the sun off. Seeing as how I now often wear mesh A-shirts, you should be able to figure out that I use sunscreen (several times a day) to avoid sunburn.
Shoes:
Close-toed shoes are a must for the start and you will find a use for them at important functions.
Running shoes or shoes to exercise in are key.
Good sandals: I was under the impression the Peace Corps discount Chaco gives us would be taken care of in country. Not so. Go ahead and e-mail them now (help@chacousa.com), sending along a scan of your invitation or whatever official letter Peace Corps sent you saying you are going to serve here in Guinea. They don't ship abroad, so get them before you come.
Flip-flops - for flip-flopping around the hut/house. I've been wearing mine into the bush. I got them resoled very well for about a buck, but then the strap broke. I sewed it back onto the shoe with dental floss, but I had to break down and buy some Guinean sandals because it wasn't going to last and I've got a long trip ahead of me for the next week. I, stupidly, did not get nice, strong American sandals before coming to Guinea and now I'm paying the price.
Boots - I brought them to wear in the bush. I wore them once, when I was in the bush at night. Not sure how much I'd wear them if I had sandals. As I was choosing between hauling a warthog around the bush in the dark with flip-flops or boots, there really wasn't a question (upcoming post).
Katie also brought a pair of dress shoes. I don't like to go out dancing, frankly I'm happier spending the night in the bush. But I'm not stupid; most volunteers go dancing in their regional capitals and Conakry. So bring stuff that'll make you feel good if you want.
That's an important factor: many people take great joy and comfort in clothing. I'm more practical and to be honest, I've owned most of the clothes I brought since high school (and some things even longer - and I didn't come here right out of college...). If clothes are important to you, bring stuff that will make you feel good. Examples: clothes to feel good about yourself if you want to feel sexy, or something comfortable to lounge around in when in your own home (I just wear a piece of cloth I got here that serves as a skirt - very comfy). This section is grateful to Katie's kind input and I give credit where credit is due.
Gear:
Two crank flashlights QUALITY!
Headlamp - I'm going to criticize Black Diamond here; DO NOT buy their headlamp; I love a lot of their gear, but four different people have had Black Diamond headlamps break on them. I don't use my headlamp, though. Instead I took some cloth, went to a tailor, and had him make a head strap to hold my crank flashlight as a headlamp. I figure I won't blaze through batteries unless I absolutely have to.
Leatherman or other multi-tool
Pocketknife without all the gadgets. I always carry my knife with no frills with me and I use it daily for everything - making slingshots, cooking, skinning mangos, skinning warthogs, cutting rope, everything. I also wash it when necessary - health is key!
Solio - great for charging your iPod; I'm scared to use it on my phone because I've read it can fry those; but it's gold with an iPod.
iPod - you know you love technology. Lots of people (not me) loaded theirs up with movies, TV shows, and other things they enjoy beyond music.
Cassette converter - being able to plug your iPod into a tape deck is a phenomenal thing here in Guinea. Long road trips in Peace Corps cars and bush taxis become so much more bearable. And it works much better than the small broadcasting devices (iTrip?).
Laptops (I bought an XO thinking it would come with the crank charger and man was I unhappy when I saw it didn't.) Everyone who brought one is happy about it. I don't know anyone who brought a solar panel to charge theirs. I bought a Weza (http://www.freeplayenergy.com/product/weza) online, hasn't arrived yet, and will post my thoughts on it after it arrives and I can say something about it (I also got something to plug into a cigarette lighter to transform it into a wall plug). My thought about a solar panel is that I'd have to put it somewhere everyone could see just to charge it; I'm not comfortable flashing that kind of property in front of a village of poor people who might be tempted to steal it and sell it for two bucks.
Carabiners - I brought six; I use them all the time
Watch - with an alarm
Compass - I have one built into my watch, and yes I do use it.
Sunglasses - I wear glasses (I have worn contacts in the past; some people do here, but I didn't want to deal with the hassle - it's a cosmetic choice) and bought some clip-ons. They're fantastic. I wouldn't buy the Guinean sunglasses; if sunglasses don't offer full UVA/UVB protection, you're just frying your retinas.
Small speakers for your iPod
A mosquito-net hammock; I bought one online, and brought a Bug-Hut from REI; I love my Bug Hut and many PCVs are jealous of my hut. I got the one for two people; phenomenal for sprawling or making space for your Nyari-in-a-bucket (he destroys mosquito nets if I don't protect them from him).
A very light-weight sleeping bag - excellent for cold nights (yes, there are some), especially if you get posted in the Fouta, or Haute in the "cold" season.
Nalgenes - widemouth and skinnymouth (very good for biking)
Camelback - I bought one, then didn't bring it, and now wish I had - for biking.
Gel seat for bike - vital; again, I bike a lot.
Small screwdrivers - great for fixing other people's stuff (read: sunglasses) and my crank flashlight (twice) as well as my glasses, should they ever meet with bad luck
Cell phone - I have one from Europe, so it's compatible with the GSM network; get the codes to unlock it before you come; it's a headache here.
Mess kit - as I intend to take long bike trips, I have decided I should buy one and have it sent here; I might try to build one in a market here, but so far I haven't been able to find what I'd like.
There are a million things I've forgotten and will append after I take inventory at site.
Stuff to do:
I brought watercolors (with watercolor paper); Scrabble; UNO; two packs of cards; dice; backgammon; checkers and chess (cut up a dowl and I'm carving my own pieces); a carving knife and tool with two whetstones; a guitar (Martin backpacker - it doesn't even sound like a banjo to me after four months and wonderful to carry around in bush taxis, etc.); a journal - I write nearly every day; sketch pad with pencils (different weights as well as colored) as well as erasers, sharpener, and an eraser shield; and probably a lot of other stuff I can't remember.
Some people bring lots of books; I decided to depend on the selection in country and only bring a few books - so far, so good.
Those with laptops brought DVDs, too.
The most important things I brought are things to do. Without question; it's how I entertain myself in the evenings, during prayer, or just whenever I've got some down time.
Luggage:
One backpack, large
One backpack, carry-on; with hip and chest straps - those make carrying for a long time or all day, or in hot weather so much more comfortable; mine has a mesh on the back and two mesh sidepockets, all three of which I use constantly. Once my host mom during PST knew I was going on a trip and gave me two pineapples, mimicking my movement of putting food into the side pockets. That was without question, the greatest moment of communication we ever had - even better than the first time I said "rice and sauce" in Susu, poorly: bande boray.
I brought a duffle bag. When I load up, I sling it over my shoulders, on top of my large backpack. I have my small one in front, and the travel guitar was smashed between my small backpack and my chest.
Most people brought one large backpack (carry-on) and two wheeled suitcases. Then again, most people brought a lot more stuff than I did (in spite of what you're reading - seriously, I didn't bring much in the way of clothing; I do my laundry once a week and went to town on the free box at site and the mesh shirts in the market).
I got a shoulder bag from the free box and I love it. If you're still in country when I leave, it just might become yours, because it's not going home with me.
Having had a very difficult time finding information relevant to what I should pack, I will be frank and up front about what I brought that is very relevant and what I've bought online or had sent to me. I probably forgot stuff and that means it's not all that important to me.
IMPORTANT: buy quality. Do not sell yourself short; you will regret it. This refers to shoes and gear. I will refer to some specific stuff later on and make comments all along the way - I'm trying to make this list as easy to read and as informative as possible. Please feel free to contact me with any questions or comments you have. I am more than willing to answer questions and help as much as I can - just keep in mind my Internet access is sporadic. I will reply as soon as I get a question, though. Just comment, and it will go into my inbox at which point I can reply to you, well I don't know how, but I'll be cold in Guinea before I put my e-mail address up in a public place for the world to see.
Clothing:
You should believe people who tell you clothing is for Pre-Service Training only. It is very easy and cheap to get clothes made here. Also, there are markets, which are either called friperie or the dead-white-person market, where you can buy American or European clothes that have been donated by various charity organizations. Yes, dead-white-person market; why on earth would someone give away perfectly good clothing? That question makes a lot more sense when you realize people wear clothes beyond the point at which they're falling off their bodies.
Also, keep in mind two things: I'm male and I'm an agroforestry volunteer (you will probably be expected to dress nicer than I did both during PST and at site - you won't be playing in anywhere near as much cow and chicken manure as I have). I've asked a female for input, but as I am not a female, well, read my last post to decide for yourself whether I really am.
For PST:
Pants - three or four pairs: zip-offs are great, khakis (one pair) will come in very handy, and I brought and absolutely love to pieces (literally, they've been patched twice already by a very cheap tailor) my cargo pants; no jeans - it's way too hot.
Shirts - I brought four collared shirts that are supposed to draw sweat off you, etc. and I love them. I brought four T-shirts; you can buy a slew here, but they were useful. I also brought three collared, button-down shirts; they're useful for being in the various Peace Corps bureaus and I wore them frequently during PST.
Socks - I stopped wearing shoes after three days and now only wear them in the bush at night. Bring some socks you'll play sports in - aka to run or shoot hoops in (there's a basketball court at the training site). Again - education volunteers are told to wear shoes, but from what they say, it's too hot and most wear nice sandals (this information from a male volunteer in the coldest region in Guinea).
Underwear - I brought seven pairs of briefs and four pairs of boxers. I think boxers are worse in intense heat; others disagree. Go with what you prefer in heat. Katie's advice (http://tckinguinea.blogspot.com/): If you don't want to do laundry often, 70 pairs of panties (she admits she's extreme), and 13 bras (3 are sports bras). Obviously others bring fewer pairs. Here's a kicker: I get underwear sent to me as padding in boxes because they really don't survive the washboard. I have a stock of new pairs that I rotate in when an old pair disintegrates. I know that last sentence just made my mother happy; I don't like to throw away clothes until they're absolutely useless - I have some very old things here with me.
Hat - I brought an awesome hat with a wide, floppy brim and a mesh/solid top combo. It's fantastic for the heat. It doesn't matter if you think it will make you stand out and look stupid - you will anyway because you're American and you just won't be able to hide it. The two black girls in our group have complained that Guineans called them white simply because they're American. So a hat will just make you comfortable. Besides, the Guineans will all be jealous of you anyway. I also bought a straw hat because I was tired of my brim always blowing in my face when it's windy. I still use the one I brought all the time, though - it travels much better than a straw hat and is cooler.
Katie also recommends Underarmour sweat stuff and any lightweight pants as well as lots of shirts because you will sweat a lot - especially during PST as your body still gets used to the heat. Can you tell I'm sitting next to her as I write this? Anyway, it's good to get multiple opinions.
Bring one light-weight sweater. It is sometimes chilly and you will feel cold eventually - again when you get used to the heat, or in the mornings and evenings at different times of the year according to your region.
I did not bring any light-weight, long-sleeved shirts. Some would recommend one or two just to help keep the sun off. Seeing as how I now often wear mesh A-shirts, you should be able to figure out that I use sunscreen (several times a day) to avoid sunburn.
Shoes:
Close-toed shoes are a must for the start and you will find a use for them at important functions.
Running shoes or shoes to exercise in are key.
Good sandals: I was under the impression the Peace Corps discount Chaco gives us would be taken care of in country. Not so. Go ahead and e-mail them now (help@chacousa.com), sending along a scan of your invitation or whatever official letter Peace Corps sent you saying you are going to serve here in Guinea. They don't ship abroad, so get them before you come.
Flip-flops - for flip-flopping around the hut/house. I've been wearing mine into the bush. I got them resoled very well for about a buck, but then the strap broke. I sewed it back onto the shoe with dental floss, but I had to break down and buy some Guinean sandals because it wasn't going to last and I've got a long trip ahead of me for the next week. I, stupidly, did not get nice, strong American sandals before coming to Guinea and now I'm paying the price.
Boots - I brought them to wear in the bush. I wore them once, when I was in the bush at night. Not sure how much I'd wear them if I had sandals. As I was choosing between hauling a warthog around the bush in the dark with flip-flops or boots, there really wasn't a question (upcoming post).
Katie also brought a pair of dress shoes. I don't like to go out dancing, frankly I'm happier spending the night in the bush. But I'm not stupid; most volunteers go dancing in their regional capitals and Conakry. So bring stuff that'll make you feel good if you want.
That's an important factor: many people take great joy and comfort in clothing. I'm more practical and to be honest, I've owned most of the clothes I brought since high school (and some things even longer - and I didn't come here right out of college...). If clothes are important to you, bring stuff that will make you feel good. Examples: clothes to feel good about yourself if you want to feel sexy, or something comfortable to lounge around in when in your own home (I just wear a piece of cloth I got here that serves as a skirt - very comfy). This section is grateful to Katie's kind input and I give credit where credit is due.
Gear:
Two crank flashlights QUALITY!
Headlamp - I'm going to criticize Black Diamond here; DO NOT buy their headlamp; I love a lot of their gear, but four different people have had Black Diamond headlamps break on them. I don't use my headlamp, though. Instead I took some cloth, went to a tailor, and had him make a head strap to hold my crank flashlight as a headlamp. I figure I won't blaze through batteries unless I absolutely have to.
Leatherman or other multi-tool
Pocketknife without all the gadgets. I always carry my knife with no frills with me and I use it daily for everything - making slingshots, cooking, skinning mangos, skinning warthogs, cutting rope, everything. I also wash it when necessary - health is key!
Solio - great for charging your iPod; I'm scared to use it on my phone because I've read it can fry those; but it's gold with an iPod.
iPod - you know you love technology. Lots of people (not me) loaded theirs up with movies, TV shows, and other things they enjoy beyond music.
Cassette converter - being able to plug your iPod into a tape deck is a phenomenal thing here in Guinea. Long road trips in Peace Corps cars and bush taxis become so much more bearable. And it works much better than the small broadcasting devices (iTrip?).
Laptops (I bought an XO thinking it would come with the crank charger and man was I unhappy when I saw it didn't.) Everyone who brought one is happy about it. I don't know anyone who brought a solar panel to charge theirs. I bought a Weza (http://www.freeplayenergy.com/product/weza) online, hasn't arrived yet, and will post my thoughts on it after it arrives and I can say something about it (I also got something to plug into a cigarette lighter to transform it into a wall plug). My thought about a solar panel is that I'd have to put it somewhere everyone could see just to charge it; I'm not comfortable flashing that kind of property in front of a village of poor people who might be tempted to steal it and sell it for two bucks.
Carabiners - I brought six; I use them all the time
Watch - with an alarm
Compass - I have one built into my watch, and yes I do use it.
Sunglasses - I wear glasses (I have worn contacts in the past; some people do here, but I didn't want to deal with the hassle - it's a cosmetic choice) and bought some clip-ons. They're fantastic. I wouldn't buy the Guinean sunglasses; if sunglasses don't offer full UVA/UVB protection, you're just frying your retinas.
Small speakers for your iPod
A mosquito-net hammock; I bought one online, and brought a Bug-Hut from REI; I love my Bug Hut and many PCVs are jealous of my hut. I got the one for two people; phenomenal for sprawling or making space for your Nyari-in-a-bucket (he destroys mosquito nets if I don't protect them from him).
A very light-weight sleeping bag - excellent for cold nights (yes, there are some), especially if you get posted in the Fouta, or Haute in the "cold" season.
Nalgenes - widemouth and skinnymouth (very good for biking)
Camelback - I bought one, then didn't bring it, and now wish I had - for biking.
Gel seat for bike - vital; again, I bike a lot.
Small screwdrivers - great for fixing other people's stuff (read: sunglasses) and my crank flashlight (twice) as well as my glasses, should they ever meet with bad luck
Cell phone - I have one from Europe, so it's compatible with the GSM network; get the codes to unlock it before you come; it's a headache here.
Mess kit - as I intend to take long bike trips, I have decided I should buy one and have it sent here; I might try to build one in a market here, but so far I haven't been able to find what I'd like.
There are a million things I've forgotten and will append after I take inventory at site.
Stuff to do:
I brought watercolors (with watercolor paper); Scrabble; UNO; two packs of cards; dice; backgammon; checkers and chess (cut up a dowl and I'm carving my own pieces); a carving knife and tool with two whetstones; a guitar (Martin backpacker - it doesn't even sound like a banjo to me after four months and wonderful to carry around in bush taxis, etc.); a journal - I write nearly every day; sketch pad with pencils (different weights as well as colored) as well as erasers, sharpener, and an eraser shield; and probably a lot of other stuff I can't remember.
Some people bring lots of books; I decided to depend on the selection in country and only bring a few books - so far, so good.
Those with laptops brought DVDs, too.
The most important things I brought are things to do. Without question; it's how I entertain myself in the evenings, during prayer, or just whenever I've got some down time.
Luggage:
One backpack, large
One backpack, carry-on; with hip and chest straps - those make carrying for a long time or all day, or in hot weather so much more comfortable; mine has a mesh on the back and two mesh sidepockets, all three of which I use constantly. Once my host mom during PST knew I was going on a trip and gave me two pineapples, mimicking my movement of putting food into the side pockets. That was without question, the greatest moment of communication we ever had - even better than the first time I said "rice and sauce" in Susu, poorly: bande boray.
I brought a duffle bag. When I load up, I sling it over my shoulders, on top of my large backpack. I have my small one in front, and the travel guitar was smashed between my small backpack and my chest.
Most people brought one large backpack (carry-on) and two wheeled suitcases. Then again, most people brought a lot more stuff than I did (in spite of what you're reading - seriously, I didn't bring much in the way of clothing; I do my laundry once a week and went to town on the free box at site and the mesh shirts in the market).
I got a shoulder bag from the free box and I love it. If you're still in country when I leave, it just might become yours, because it's not going home with me.
I am woman, hear me explain
In spite of offers I've had to do the work for me - at a price, of course - I still do my own laundry. I've been told many times it's a woman's work, but then that's the reason I won't let a woman do it. Even if I were to pay her.
Women aren't politically or culturally equal to men anywhere, though in Guinea the inequality is more pronounced than in most Western countries. Even though women can be seen riding motorcycles, driving cars (neither very often because of poverty), and holding political office (less than a fraction of one percent), Guinea has a long way to go. I figure at least the children near me will grow up aware that men - even if only white men - are capable of doing their own laundry.
It goes beyond that, however. Between laundry, the tree nursery, washing dishes, and bathing, I haul a lot of water out of a 50-foot well. (When I get home, don't ask me if I've been working out, I haven't. I just take two bucket baths a day.) Getting water, as I'm told at least three times a week, is women's work.
The other day the women and men near the well were ragging on me for wearing a couple bracelets. Men here wear metal bracelets; mine, a gift from a friend and therefore worth wearing, are beads on a string. Très feminin. It didn't help that I was hauling water at the time, either.
My usual retort about the water is that in America, whoever needs water gets it for themself. If Guineans don't know what a faucet is, it's not my fault, but the ease with which Westerners obtain our bath water doesn't mean we still don't get it for ourselves.
I won't change attitudes: when some women were asking me why I'm not married, we got onto the price of marriage. I tried to explain that we don't purchase wives in America (conveniently ignoring engagement rings for the sake of argument), but one of the women told me she was worth five cows and I forget how many bags of rice. For her, the high price was a point of great pride.
The best part is, I can't get away from being called a woman even when I come into the big city. My fellow Americans label me woman for my excessive love of/devotion to chocolate and for wearing a skirt-like panya around the house.
No, I won't change attitudes anywhere, but I'll continue to be an example of the way things could be. It's just as well that I enjoy destroying fabric on a ridged plastic board while harsh soap eats holes in my chocolate-stained skin.
Women aren't politically or culturally equal to men anywhere, though in Guinea the inequality is more pronounced than in most Western countries. Even though women can be seen riding motorcycles, driving cars (neither very often because of poverty), and holding political office (less than a fraction of one percent), Guinea has a long way to go. I figure at least the children near me will grow up aware that men - even if only white men - are capable of doing their own laundry.
It goes beyond that, however. Between laundry, the tree nursery, washing dishes, and bathing, I haul a lot of water out of a 50-foot well. (When I get home, don't ask me if I've been working out, I haven't. I just take two bucket baths a day.) Getting water, as I'm told at least three times a week, is women's work.
The other day the women and men near the well were ragging on me for wearing a couple bracelets. Men here wear metal bracelets; mine, a gift from a friend and therefore worth wearing, are beads on a string. Très feminin. It didn't help that I was hauling water at the time, either.
My usual retort about the water is that in America, whoever needs water gets it for themself. If Guineans don't know what a faucet is, it's not my fault, but the ease with which Westerners obtain our bath water doesn't mean we still don't get it for ourselves.
I won't change attitudes: when some women were asking me why I'm not married, we got onto the price of marriage. I tried to explain that we don't purchase wives in America (conveniently ignoring engagement rings for the sake of argument), but one of the women told me she was worth five cows and I forget how many bags of rice. For her, the high price was a point of great pride.
The best part is, I can't get away from being called a woman even when I come into the big city. My fellow Americans label me woman for my excessive love of/devotion to chocolate and for wearing a skirt-like panya around the house.
No, I won't change attitudes anywhere, but I'll continue to be an example of the way things could be. It's just as well that I enjoy destroying fabric on a ridged plastic board while harsh soap eats holes in my chocolate-stained skin.
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