My time here is drawing to a close...

I know my blog has been pretty silent as of late.  It’s not that I’ve stopped doing projects or am done with the peace corps (yet) – it’s that I have slowly been loosing motivation to keep this blog going as my close of service is close approaching.  I haven’t wanted to write about my recent projects because there is so much else I’ve wanted to say that it has become overwhelming.  So before I get into my pontifications of peace corps service and where I am emotionally I thought I would do a quick run down of my latest and last projects of my PCV career. 

Village-wide Malaria Awareness Campaign

I gave two major workshops to both women in my village and the students of the primary school on what is malaria, how one becomes infected, symptoms and prevention.  The workshops ended with the women or students making “neem cream” which is an effective local concoction of neem leaves (local tree), shea butter and soap. 

Women’s Assocation of Diarabakoko learned how to make liquid soap…

I biked 100k (62 miles) to Josh’s site with other PCVs to explore the wild ;). We saw old huts that used to be used to keep people safe from other tribes and slave-catcher-bad-guys as well as waterfalls and schisto filled rice patties :P

Girl’s Camp

I had the pleasure of bringing 8 girls from my village as well as one teacher to a camp that was put on by another volunteer in a village not far from my own.  The girls learned general health, nutrition and hygiene, feminine hygiene, sexual education and how to plan for the future as well as how to make soap and neem cream.  They also played soccer every day with some Burkinabe coaches.  It was a great camp and ended at the Cascades (Burkina’s overly aggrandized tourist attraction). 

Those were my last two main projects as a PCV and now I am faced with the inevitable end of my peace corps life.  It was hard adjusting to living in Burkina, coming right out of college and jumping into what felt like another world.  I’ve made it my own here, I have my friends in village whom I absolutely cherish with kids that I wish I could watch grow up.  I have my volunteer friends whom I know will be life long because I have gone through so much with them – they have become a surrogate family to me.  Sitting at night, under the stars with the moonlight (what my friend moussa calls “the village electricity”) casting silhouettes around the pointed village huts, I drink with my friends and realize how personal my friendships are with them, how important they have been and that I will most likely never have the chance again to share these moments with them. So I take them in like a good piece of dark chocolate – savoring every bite.

I’ve grown comfortable with the place. No, I cannot say that there haven’t been days that seem to stretch on forever, that every day has been energy filled and adventured packed – in fact, for the most part it’s been the opposite for me.  My blog is incredibly misleading in that respect.  I usually talk about my work and not so much about my day-to-day life.

I am ready to do something different, but I’m not ready to leave either.  I’m used to and find comfort in going to bed when the sun sets, waking up at what people in the states might call the “crack of dawn” but which really is just when the sun rises.  It feels natural so I go with it.  I’m used to sleeping on my cot with my very “regal” mosquito net (it’s like a canopy bed!) and hearing George meow “mornin’” to me. I’m at ease on my porch in the mornings eating the same thing I always eat – oatmeal (with powdered whole milk, sugar, cinnamon and peanut butter) or going to my neighbor’s … what would you call it?... thatch roofed café (?) (possibly a misnomer) for café au lait and bread. The rest of my day is usually up to me how productive I want to be and it depends on the seasons too I guess – with cultivation season upon us the days are pretty silent as everyone is out in the fields.

I like my village. Its quaint, it’s in the middle of nowhere, it’s peaceful and covered in palm, mango and shea trees.  I am so fond of the people here, their easy and forgiving outlooks on life that it’s easy to want to stay.  But then I remember those days (more numerous than I would like to admit) where I sit around and do nothing – because there is nothing to do.  You can’t make a village do ANYTHING you can only nudge them and they can only take so much of that – which leaves a lot of time on a volunteer’s hands.  Heck, I took up knitting again and have read more books than I ever have in my entire life combined up to peace corps.  But that’s also something I’ve valued since coming here, I’ve had the chance to step out of my own culture and see it from someone on the outside looking in.  It’s easier to see how my values have been shaped by my culture and that not everything is as black and white as I once thought (though this is a different blog though entirely). 

Suffice it to say, I love that I’ve been given the opportunity to do and witness/experience/etc. life in Burkina Faso, but I’m ready for my next experience.  I’m ready to be uncomfortable for awhile and find my next path/adventure/destiny/etc. but I will always ALWAYS have what I’ve learned here and what and whom I’ve loved here in my back pocket.  I may not have ever heard of Burkina Faso before I joined the Peace Corps but I imagine it has singularly changed me more than any other experience ever has and quiet possibly ever will.  

Peace.