A Lot of Blood, Sweat and Tears This Past Week.

Every Peace Corps Volunteer undergoes some serious challenges in their two-year service. Sometimes its the unbearable, unavoidable heat. Sometimes its coming back to village with so much motivation and enthusiasm to take on all sorts of projects for the community, only to be stifled by the slow, inert culture of the villageois. Sometimes, its feeling more alone than you ever have before. And sometimes, its your neighbor hitting your dog with a knife.

This is how I spent the eve of my 6 month anniversary in Burkina Faso:


Trying to stop the bleeding after my neighbor hit Buddah right on the bridge of the nose with a knife. Then, while securing Buddah with one hand, cleaning the gaping hole in his face and attempting to forge a makeshift lampshade out of a file folder to prevent him from scratching at it. Then, the next morning, I carried now 15-20 lbs. Buddah (still sporting his lampshade) 1.5K away to the CSPS where I was hoping he could get some stitches. No one was there but the maternity nurse, who made no effort to help Buddah or comfort my sad, tired, tear-stained self. After trying to deal with the fact that I was incredibly upsest and no one seemed to care, I couldn't help but wonder how much worse this would be if I were a pregnant woman ready to give birth, or someone with a terrible illness or serious injury. No one would be there to help me, and I would have to wait over an hour before the doctor finally arrived. How do the circumstances at the CSPS motivate anyone who needs help to go to the CSPS when no one is readily available to help them? And how can the affectation of more staff be justified when not enough people go to the CSPS? But I digress.

After struggling to put iodine on Buddah, the doctor told me there was no way Buddah could get stitches so he'll have to heal on his own. Which is happening very slowly, but hopefully surely. My neighbor feels terrible, and I trust him when he tells me he didn't mean to (a Burkinabe would never kneel down to a dog to apologize unless it was genuine). And if you didn't see the cut on his face, you never would guess that Buddah was in any pain. So really I'm the only one who needs to get over it, which is happening quicker than I expected. But I really don't have a choice.

But a PCVs service wouldn't be so memorable and filled with valuable lessons if it weren't filled with an abundance of challenging, uncomfortable situations. If I don't get anything done in village (which I will make sure is not the case) I will still walk away with many more times the experience, understanding and patience than I could get from any other 2 year period.

So, in honor of my first 6 months here, I would like to make a list of all the challenges I have so far endured:

• I have (consistently) gone without running water and electricity.
• I have managed to sweat 24+ hours without stopping.
• I have (presumably) had more creatures crawl near or on me while I sleep than I care to think about.
• I literally thought I was going to die via scorpion. On the bright side, this has only happened once.
• I have conquered every bacteria and parasite that has attempted to wreck havoc on my intestines (though not without the loss of some dignity).
• I have biked several miles on gravel, dust filled roads (uphill, both ways…).
• I am dealing with the struggles of overcoming language barriers in a bilingual community (or perhaps I’ve just become really good at pretending I understand).
• The wells are drying up in this heat, so I am currently living with very little water each day for washing, bathing, cooking and drinking.
  
• I have experienced moments where I have felt more alone that I ever have in my entire life.
• I’ve taken the role of man, woman and child since I’ve been here, none of which seem to fit.
• I have been asked time and time again for money and gifts, which is never a comfortable conversation to have.
• Similar to the previous point, I have been immediately labeled based on the color of my skin.
• I have been proposed to on too many occasions, in which I either say I’m already married or I’m single and don’t want a husband, or something in between. My inconsistency will probably cause me some trouble down the line…
• I have been stolen from.
• I have been made very, very uncomfortable.
• I’ve experienced my first panic attack (I’d like to think my anti-malarial medication has something to do with it).
• I have been the butt of many, many jokes.
• I have been without the luxury of a nice western toilet.
• I have witnessed children getting beaten, children and adults alike defecating in the fields, and girls far too young to be pregnant.
• And now, I have mended the knife wound of my poor puppy.

I realize that this post is entirely depressing, but in a way I can't help but feel a little proud that I've managed to endure these hard times. So if this is what my first 6 months has been filled with, I'm ready for the next 20. I just hope my dog is left out of it.