A bumpy road traveled

Alright! I just got back from site visit, which was definitely a trip and a half. We received our assignments on Thursday, were introduced to our counterparts on Friday for a two-day workshop, and made our way out there on Sunday. My counterpart is like the guy I'll be working with as my "link" into the community, and kind of a partner with most of my projects. His name is Casmir, and he's a very nice guy, though I have to admit that those first two days were delightfully awkward.

Nonetheless, I'm opening the post, but a previous volunteer was posted not too far away, so the concept of Peace Corps is not completely new to them. I'm also going to share the same village as a Health volunteer, Sarah, who is totally cool and definitely would have been a top choice for a postmate, so that's great news. So we went with that volunteer to his house and stayed the first two nights for him to acquaint us with the area and "post-life". From there Sarah and I took motorcycles out to our village on Tuesday morning to meet up with my counterpart, meet some village officials, and find some housing. We were going to find the Catholic mission in the town to ask if we could stay with them for the coming two nights.

Now, about this Catholic mission. These nuns and priests are about the ONLY white people ever seen in this village, so as Sarah and I would walk by, we would either be greeted with a dumfounded stare, or with a "Bonjour, ma soeur! Bonjour, mon pere!" It was certainly the first time I had ever been mistaken for a priest...

So our voyage continued, and we got the grand tour of the village while looking for houses. TOTALLY chill. Tree-lined streets, and a nice laid-back attitude. The first night, we went to some official's house, to ask him if he had any houses to rent. He wasn't there, so we waited in his living room with his children. He's the guy lucky enough to have satellite television, so we watched a horrible South American soap opera dubbed into French, and an episode of 7th Heaven also in French. It was one of those moments where Sarah and I shrugged and just said "Our lives are absurd." It's kind of the theme of the past several weeks, and probably the two years to come.

So after a tour of the town, a 5k stroll to see Casmir's farm, and some wonderful coffee prepared by the two Italian nuns, we woke up Thursday morning to catch a ride back to the current Volunteer's post. So we stroll up to one of those Toyota vans, and are shoved inside 4 to a row. As we squeeze more and more intimately with our fellow passengers, about 8 HUGE 100 pound bags of corn are being thrown on top of the van, along with our bags, a chair, and three sheep. Alright! Ready to go!

As we drive along, we stop to pick up some more corn, and one more passenger (that makes 20 in all... yes 20). And if that's not enough, something wet starts dripping on me during the trip. Oh, yup, it's sheep urine. The drive has scared the piss out of the sheep, and now it's on my shoulder (as well as the windshield).

We arrive at the market (the largest cattle market in Central Africa) in the Volunteer's village, and take a little tour. Throughout the tour, we see a cow get slaughtered, skinned and hacked into pieces and continue on for a little bil-bil. It's the local alcohol, made from millet/couscous in the back of people's houses and brought to market to sell to all. So we sit down under some makeshift shade, are brought a mini-garbage can off bil-bil, and are given a hollowed out gourd to drink with... and some grilled pork, of course. I guess it tastes like cider, and everyone there was hammered. So it was at this point that I came to my senses and said out loud "Okay, here I am eating fried food in the middle of the biggest frat party in Central Africa, and I'm drinking homemade cider out of a garbage can with a wooden bowl." Again, our lives are absurd.

Anyways, I ended up going back to my village with the volunteer so that he could introduce me to some of the people he had briefly worked with, and in doing so, Casmir was delighted to tell us that his wife was preparing cow's foot for dinner that night. Wonderful. So after our tasks on Friday were finished, we at dinner at his house, where I politely accepted three bites of the foot (it wasn't as hard to eat as one would imagine, but as unsettling).

In an unrelated story, I spent much of that night in the bathroom and vomited the next morning, so my touring ended and I stayed in bed at the mission for the day (by the way, there's something comforting about being around nuns when you're sick... kind of like Madeline and her appendicitis. But these nuns were convinced I had malaria.) Anyways, we stayed one more night, and I was sufficiently healed by Sunday morning. I don't think it was malaria, nor a problem with the cow's foot, but more likely some bad water that I had drank that day. My life is absurd.

Anyway, Sunday morning after a bike ride back to the Volunteer's post, and an hour-long motorcycle ride back to my homestay village. And of course, the moto driver was wearing a WINTER COAT, even though it's about 80 degrees outside, because hey, it's the cold season. Otherwise I'm totally excited (albeit a little scared) to get to post and get started. And the house I'm going to rent is SWEEEET! So it will be fun getting that all settled and together.

Anyways, when I think about it, it's kind weird to be away from home for the coming holidays. But at second thought, I don't think of it too often because it just doesn't seem like the holidays are approaching (perhaps because I'm still sweating in the afternoons, or maybe because I only hang out with Muslims and other non-Americans). So enjoy the holidays a little more for my sake, and keep in touch.