Burkina Fatso

I've been recently struggling (or maybe not recently) with my weight here in Africa.  It seems to balloon up, then drop, then go up again.  It's a rollercoaster.  I read this article recently, written by a fellow PCV here in Burkina, James McGivern.  He does a great job of summing up my sentiments exactly. So enjoy!

Forget South Beach. Forget Atkins. Between the sweltering heat, boring food, and near constant gastro-intestinal issues, Africa should be the best weight-loss plan on Earth. So before departing, I went on a whirlwind tour of farewell dinners and eating binges. A third helping? Yes, please. Two desserts? Why not!? A 10,000 calorie burger? I am moving to Africa, after all.


Once I arrived, I became even more convinced of the magic African diet. Every male between the ages of 18 and 45 resembles Brad Pitt in Fight Club. Gorgeous, lean muscles. six pack abs. 2% body fat. It's amazing how endless hours in the field can transform a body. I thought it must be only a matter of time before I too look like them.


I could not have been more wrong. After ten months in Africa my body more closely resembled the rotund Jason Alexander. What little muscle I had quickly disappeared without a high-protein diet coupled with a weightlifting regimen. My chest and arms withered away and my body‟s jiggle coefficient has steadily increased as my mid-section has become ever doughier. Poke me and I‟ll giggle like Poppin‟ Fresh...
After some thought, I‟ve come to a few conclusions (read, excuses) regarding the dreadful state of my body.


Quality
The food options in West Africa are a carb-lover‟s dream. Take tô: it‟s incredibly cheap, popular, and lacks any nutritional value. Rice and pasta are the next most popular meal options and Burkinabé will even add spaghetti as a topping to rice. Carb on carb delight.


Quality protein is extremely hard to find. Goat, sheep, cows, and chickens roam everywhere, but they aren‟t the wonderful Tyson hormone-injected variety that Americans enjoy. African animals forage all day for food and (at least in our neighborhood) must dodge mangos (thrown by me from the porch). Different cuts of meat are a completely foreign idea to Burkina‟s “butchers.” Most meat is simply hacked apart by a dull machete. Imagine trying to eat your rice with peanut sauce dish and getting bits of intestines, bones and other mystery chunks.


If you‟re lucky enough to find a meat vendor, so many questions come to mind it‟s an immediate turn-off. How long has this meat been sitting outside in 100 degree heat? Why are there so many flies on it? Is this goat meat? Or sheep? Beef? Could be dog. You just can never be sure.


Quantity
For generations, this scene has transpired at the dinner table: An American youth didn‟t finish his/her dinner and is getting up from the table. Well-intentioned parents then yell, “Finish your dinner! There are starving children in Africa.” Thanks, mom. Because of your conditioning, I eat everything in sight and the starving African children you referenced are literally right outside my door.


If you can accurately determine exactly how much food will satisfy your hunger, there‟s no problem. But what if there are leftovers? There is no electricity in village and therefore no refrigerator. The extreme temperatures ensure that any remaining food will be covered in mold by morning. We can and do give leftovers to our neighbors. However, they don‟t always like the foreign dishes we make. And if they can recognize the ingredients, it may blow our cover as the poor volunteers living and working amongst them. Pasta is a rare luxury and canned vegetables or tuna are completely unaffordable for our neighbors. With those things in mind, I end up eating that second serving; it‟s a shame to let it go to waste.

came to Burkina with the mindset that I must eat everything in sight just to keep weight on. That idea was then reinforced by the Peace Corps medical staff‟s motto “eat when you can eat.” As I reflect on their advice, I‟m not sure it holds true for volunteers who live 10 kilometers from real cheese, butter, and cold drinks. Whenever I leave village, it‟s a free-for-all. Doctor‟s orders, after all.


Exercise
Exercising in Africa is difficult. Although I‟ll occasionally work in the fields, I don‟t do it nearly enough. I‟ll harvest rice with the men, but after ten minutes of what might be considered hard work, the same phrases are inevitably uttered (although not in English):


“You must be tired. go sit down.”
“The sun is hot and you‟ll burn. Get in the shade.”
“Get the white dude some water!”


American-style twentieth century exercise, like running for example, is rarely observed in Burkina. It‟s an unfortunate reality, but who has the calories to spare? Occasionally the military, a soccer team, or firemen run down city streets to stay in shape. The rare sight of even these runners elicits stares from passers-by. I‟m harassed and gawked at just walking down the street or shopping. Imagine the kind of taunting and ridicule a pasty-white guy in short-shorts running down the street will receive. And in village!? I tried running and I may as well have landed my spaceship in Times Square.


Weather
No surprise, but it is hot and we're almost always sweating. The only time it is cool enough to exercise is early in the morning, which also happens to be the only chance to be indoors and not be dripping with sweat. It‟s difficult to knowingly commit myself to constant sweating.


Me
Julie, my wonderful and supportive wife, seems to take great joy in reminding me of my advanced age and expanding waistline. 30 years old! Practically middle-aged with the bear claws to prove it. And let's not get started on the receding hairline... I may as well just throw in the towel now and get buried in a piano case.
I recently came to the difficult conclusion that I may have women‟s genes. I‟m not talking about the skinny jeans those young hipsters are wearing. My body seemingly responds to carbohydrates like a woman‟s body. In a carb-heavy diet, most men lose considerable amounts of weight and become very thin. Women‟s bodies store those carbs away to nourish babies or something. Unfortunately, I have the muffin-top to prove that I've got the genes of a woman without the ability to breastfeed.
My last fault? I've spent much too long sitting on my large behind thinking of excuses and writing this entry rather than exercising.


A Resolution
In spite of all of these evil forces working against me, I‟ve recently turned over a new leaf. It‟s my new year‟s resolution. And this is the kind of resolution that doesn‟t require standing in line for the cardio machine at the gym… because there aren‟t any. I‟ve finally started running, and the villagers are getting used to the daily sight of my ghost-white thighs. They cheer for me as I “do the sport” and I even have a growing rotation of running partners. If I can keep it up, maybe I‟ll be ready for the next trip to the beach. This close to the equator, bikini season is a year-round concern.

Every Child Deserves a 5th Birthday

April 25 is World Malaria Day.  Did you know that malaria is one of the top reasons children do not reach their 5^th birthday?

Malaria is a disease that kills thousands in Burkina Faso every year even though it is completely curable and preventative methods are available. Malaria disproportionately affects pregnant women and children under the age of 5 in the developing world.

In order to celebrate World Malaria day and promote the prevention of malarial death in my community I have been handing out mosquito nets at every prenatal consultation I’ve helped with. 

I am part of Stomping Out Malaria in Africa, a continent‐wide campaign to increase malaria prevention across Peace Corps countries in sub-Saharan Africa.  Peace Corps Burkina is stomping out malaria with 3000 other volunteer in 17 countries, and partners such as USAID and Malaria No More.  Together we can make a difference in our communities.

Go to the Tumblr page to see highlights of Peace Corps projects across Africa: http://stompoutmalaria.tumblr.com/

How will you stomp out malaria in 2012?

Two weeks left to donate

Two weeks left to donate.  We would appreciate any amount you would be able to give!

Thank you!

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=686-172

Update about the goings-on in Burkina and West Africa

Here are a few interesting articles about what is currently going on in Burkina Faso and West Africa:

It's been a year since the uprisings last spring: http://allafrica.com/stories/201203121315.html

Last summer's very poor rainy season = bad drought this spring: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-17308913

What has led to the situation in neighboring Mali: http://www.edmontonjournal.com/news/Perfect+desert+storm+hitting+West+Africa/6305227/story.html

The most current information about the Mali situation:

http://www.google.com/hostednews/afp/article/ALeqM5gT6NxdkqvCTpTR4KvEOPC0FQgGnA?docId=CNG.f31c542340413c26a62a1c4f4d21625a.351

http://www.economist.com/node/21550324

Scarier than I thought...

Mask Festival- FESTIMA 2012

Two weekends ago I went to the Mask Festival, or FESTIMA (Festival International des Masques et des Arts de Dédougou).  FESTIMA is held every two years in Dèdougou and is probably the biggest of its kind.  It is unique in that there are many different types of masks who come from all over to participate.  The masks at FESTIMA were mostly from Burkina, but some came from Benin, Togo, Cote d’Ivoire, and Mali.  Most of the spectators were local Burkinabè (which was GREAT to see), but there were some international tourists (mostly French), and of course us, the PCVs. 

I travelled to and from Dédougou (240 km roundtrip) in a rented car with Kait, an RPCV back for work and vacation, and Emily, a third year, like me.  I do have to say that traveling by rented car is the way to go in Burkina.  We did not have to deal with local transport at all and got there in record time- 4 hours versus the 6+ on local transport.  However, it was expensive and I have to say a big thank you to Kait for covering a lot of the costs (she has an American job that makes real money).  Otherwise, I would not have been able to go.

We were only at FESTIMA for two days, but it was worth it!  We spent the two days watching different mask groups perform.  Each mask group, each from a different village, consisted of griots (musicians who played a flute-like instrument and/or drums) and several masks.  Most of the masks represented animals or spirits.  Several mask groups told stories: the hunter and the prey, the magic haystack, etc.  It is believed that once a performer (always a man, never a woman) puts on his mask, he becomes the mask and is not responsible for his actions.  The masks at FESTIMA were incredible and I would recommend the experience to anyone who has the desire to come to Burkina. 

 

Emily, myself, and Kait at the festival.

Please go to http://sworthy10.wordpress.com/2012/03/12/mask-festival-festima-2012/ , the blog of a friend for some amazing pictures.  Unfortunately I did not have my camera with me at the festival, but Scott's pictures more than make up! 

Zero Sachets

The first day of March marked the first day of Campaign “Zero Sachets,” a campaign to clean Kaya up.  This campaign was initiated by the Governor’s office and on the first of March all of the city’s civil servants went around cleaning up the town.  However, the cleanup did not go very far.  I took the following pictures March 2 and unfortunately I did not see much in terms of “cleanliness.” 

As those of you who have visited me here (Mom, Rebecca), you understand what I’m talking about when I say that Burkina is dirty.  Even if you take away the dust and sand (which cannot be helped as Burkina is a Sahlian country), you will still find Burkina extremely dirty.  The main reason for this, in my opinion, is a lack of cleaning services, such as trash pickup, dumps, etc.  There are hardly any trash cans found anywhere, so people just dump their trash out their windows.  This leads to trash everywhere, in particular black plastic bags “sachets.” 

My neighbors pride themselves on being very clean.  Clean to them means having a clean courtyard.  They collect the trash from inside the courtyard and throw it outside the courtyard.  Therefore they are clean.  I, on the other hand, collect my burnable trash and burn it, so it is not littering up the inside of my courtyard nor the outside world.  The unburnable trash is a little more difficult. For the most part, I try to give away things that I do not want anymore to Burkinabe, such as boxes, containers, etc.  Other trash goes down the latrine, I am sorry to say.  Latrine trash includes old batteries and expired medication.  I know this is not the best thing for the environment, but otherwise I will see children sucking on the batteries and trying to eat the medication.  Not good.  But what else can I do?

A few weeks ago I was in the alimentation, the boutique closest to a grocery store here in Kaya, talking to the cashier.  A man approaches the cashier, pays for his items and then proceeds to take them out of the packaging and drop the packaging on the floor.  I ask him if he is going to pick that up and put it in the trashcan not two feet from him.  He says “No why don’t you do that, or are you not nice?”  I said of course I’m not going to pick it up for him, that’s his job to clean up his own mess.  He laughs and storms out to his car.  Of course this pissed me off to no end.  Here is this larger man (meaning that he has enough money to drink lots of beers to give him a beer belly) that doesn’t care enough about Kaya, Burkina, the world (I don’t know) to pick up a measly piece of trash and then proceeds to get into his luxury car (meaning he has even more money/is probably pretty well educated in terms of Burkina).  After this encounter the cashier thanked me for standing up to him. If the cashier had said anything the customer would have complained that those who work there are not polite or good to their customers.  What kind of world do we live in?

Now that I’ve gone on about this enough, I wish I knew some way to change the mentality here (that goes for many different subjects).  But it seems that I will just have to do my part and maybe if others see me picking up black sachets, they will follow suit. 

Trash next to the biggest garden in Kaya

Trash outside of an old palace in Kaya.  The sign says "Illegal to dump trash here."

Happy Valentine's Day

Returned Peace Corps Volunteers make GREAT dates. (I know I'm not "Returned" yet, but soon!!)

12 reasons to date a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer:

1. We can woo you in multiple languages. Who else is going to whisper sweet nothings to you in everything from Albanian to Hausa to Quechua to Xhosa? That’s right. Only a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer.
2. We’re pretty good dancers. Yeah, we don’t like to brag, but after 27 months in Latin America or Africa we know how to move it.
3. We’ll eat anything. Seriously. No matter how bad your cooking, Returned Peace Corps Volunteers have had worse and will eat it with nary a blink. Sheep’s eyeball? Water buffalo gall bladder? Grasshoppers? Bush rat? Bring it.
4. We know all about safe sex, thanks to our very thorough Peace Corps health training. In fact, there’s a chance that we’ve stood unblushingly in front of hundreds of villagers and demonstrated good condom technique with a large wooden phallus.
5. We’ll kill spiders for you. Well, actually, we’ll nonchalantly scoop them up and put them out of sight. Same goes for mice, geckos, frogs, snakes. Critters don’t faze Returned Volunteers.
6. We have great date ideas: wandering a street market, checking out a foreign film, taking in a world music concert, volunteering…. Romantic getaway? Our passport is updated and our suitcase is packed. With us, life is always an adventure.
7. We like you for “you”… not your paycheck. Especially if we are freshly back from service, a local joint with “character” will win out over a pretentious eatery. Living in a group house? No problem. Does it have running hot water? What luxury!
8. You won’t get lost when you’re with a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer. Navigating local markets on four continents, we’ve honed an uncanny sense of direction. Or else we’ll ask for directions. We’re not afraid to talk to “strangers.”
9. Waiting for a late train or bus? Don’t worry, we’ve been there, done that. We can share lots of funny stories about “the bus ride from hell” that will make the time go quickly and put it all into perspective.
10. Our low-maintenance fashion style. Returned Peace Corps Volunteer guys are secure in their manhood and don’t mind rocking a sarong. Women often prefer flip flops to high heels. We don’t spend hours in front of a mirror getting ready to go out.
11. Marry us, and you won’t just get one family — you’ll get two! When we refer to our “brother” or “mom,” you’ll want to be certain we’re talking about our American one or our Peace Corps one. You might even get two wedding ceremonies, one in the U.S. and one back in our Peace Corps country.
12. And last but not least, we aren’t afraid to get dirty.

It's veggie season! I bought all of this for the equivalent of $3 US

Me with Said and baby Diallo (born two weeks ago to Madame Diallo, one of my closest friends from Tougouri. I went to visit them in Ouaga, where she is for three months on maternity leave. Random side-note: Burkina gives women awesome maternity leave compared to the U.S!)

So tiny (and white)! Black African babies come out white, or much lighter skinned, and turn darker the longer they are out in the sun.

Crazy dust storm

World AIDS Day mural that Trent, my Kaya site mate, and I did. We have yet to do an HIV/AIDS training where everyone will put a hand-print up to show their participation.

Diana (fellow PCV and neighbor) and I on Valentine's Day. We have been working very closely together on Camp GLOW 2012. Don't forget to donate! We still need to raise $4,000 for Camp GLOW Kaya. Remember to click on the Kaya link! Thank you!!!!