Well well well. In case you were all worried, I haven't yet been swallowed up by the jungle. I'm still in Guinea and everything is going swimmingly. By that I mean that I've mostly been swimming for the past couple months. Seriously, the rainy season has suddenly turned the dry river bed next to our village into a gurgling brook. As it turns out, this newly formed river is perfect for swimming. So, I bought some goggles when I was in the states on vacation and brought them here. I found a perfect place in the river that allows me some privacy and the current is just right so that I can swim against the current and basically stay in the same spot. Its a cure for boredom, it helps me stay in shape, and it has allowed for some very interesting exchanges between me and the stray villagers who often come down to wash their clothes, bathe, or draw water. The goggles and bright white skin are strange enough, but when I get in the water and try to swim against the current, it's really quite fascinating. Most of the time I pop my head up, I see they have stopped whatever they are doing in order to focus all of their energy on staring at me. But people are starting to get used to it. And I love it. I've always loved swimming, but this is a whole other experience. Despite a modest (and not totally irrational) fear of alligators, I enjoy watching the fish that swim by, the underwater plant life, and the little kids who make small talk and try to mimic me while I rest. It also provides a refreshing break from the heat. And to top it off, when I'm done my workout, I can chase away the kids and then bathe right there in the river. There is really nothing like it. I'm afraid that when I get back to Dabiss after my short stint in Conakry here that the river will be suffering from the approaching dry season and thus be too low to swim in. Either way, I glad that I took advantage of that while I could.
Coming back from the states was an interesting experience. I had gained about 15 pounds while at home and when I got back into Guinea, people could tell that I had beefed up. And Guineans love to point out that kind of stuff. Telling someone that he 'grew' or 'got fatter' since you last saw him, is considered a compliment. I'm used to that. Sometimes they'll say that to me after I've been in Boke for a week just because they want to be nice. But this time I came back, they felt the need to really impress on me the extent to which I had gotten fatter. So they didn't say the normal, 'you've grown' or 'you got fatter'. They would look me earnestly in the eyes and just say, 'Boubacar, you are fat.' It was a big deal. Fortunately, I was fairly sure that that 15 pounds would go quick, which it already has. Anyway, the more somber aspect of this story is that when I got back, Guinea was about three quarters of the way through their 'hungry' season and while I was fatter, everyone else was noticeably skinnier. Too skinny. It was sad and I felt kind of guilty. People would see that I had been home eating good food and gaining weight, while they were here getting by on an increasingly meager diet, waiting for the harvest to come. Last year, the hungry season wasn't quite as noticeable to me. This year I was all too aware. What's worse is that right when the harvest does come and people finally have food and money, Ramadan, the month of fasting, begins. You all know about that already.
In other news, things are going...I am writing, its in my journal mostly, but its writing. What's interesting to me is that in my journal these days, my reflections are less about new discoveries and experiences and reflections on Guinean life and more about how I fit in here, my emotional state and what I want to do in the future. In Dabiss especially, I feel like I've already done everything there is to do. I know the language, the culture, etc. Nothing is new. Not to sound depressing, because I'm not depressed, but its interesting how I reflect on life here now that I'm used to everything. For example, I understand enough about this culture to know that Americans are different from Guineans in some very fundamental ways. More specifically, I am different. I realize that 2 years is a good amount of time to spend in the Peace Corps. I realize that I really wouldn't be able to live in a place like this. I wouldn't be able to be the best that I can be or find the kind of fulfillment that I'm looking for while living at the village level.
There isn't enough intellectual stimulation I think. For example, they still don't really believe or understand how someone could spend so much of their time reading everyday. Most people are illiterate and those who aren't don't seem to really understand the function of a written language, which I think is to communicate ideas. As a result, people still assume that if I am in my hut than I am lying down, either sleeping or resting. It doesn't seem to matter how many times I tell them the contrary.
Another realization I've recently stumbled upon is that this is a virtually lawless country and I'm to used to living in a world where people are held more or less accountable for their actions. Not only is there no law enforcement, but the people who are meant to enforce the laws are the biggest criminals. If you ask any volunteers what the biggest obstacle to development here is, they will say corruption - i.e. people using public office as a route to personal wealth. I won't go in to this really, because the point is that I am focusing more on how I fit in. I couldn't live in this country because I would constantly be aware of how much my rights are being violated. I feel like I wouldn't have the right to 'pursue happiness'. Again, for the purposes of time, I will not elaborate. And these are things that could change, but its something that the people here will eventually need to recognize and change themselves. I feel slightly disillusioned with development work. That I will go into some other time. I'm optimistic that it will happen.
OK, see you later - Anders
p.s. I recently tried showing some kids that trick where you pretend to pull off the tip of your thumb. Man do they bite hard on that one! I often have kids run away in fright when I do it. Other kids ask questions like, 'Does it hurt?' 'Why aren't you bleeding?' 'Are you gonna put it back?'. Basically, it was a huge hit. Now its not uncommon for a kid to mimic me in passing by trying to pull off his own thumb.
