I’d like to say that my mantra in life is “Try anything once.” I’m sure some can certainly prove otherwise that I have not quite followed this, and I do not include paying large sums of money to see Taylor Swift in concert or any other equally moronic event, but I think I have done pretty well trying to accomplish my goal. Hell, I joined Peace Corps didn’t I?
Bill Bryson in his book A Walk in the Woods discusses the theme of man losing touch with nature, but more importantly of man losing touch with himself. While I have not finished it yet (fantastic read by the way), it’s impossible not to think about how similar hiking the Appalachian Trail (AT) is to serving in the Peace Corps. Both are voluntary challenges that push your body and mind to limits that you never thought possible. I can’t help to relate with Mr. Bryson when he discusses how petty things in life become so insignificant when faced with more innate human needs, like food, water, and shelter. Take a break from all of the technology and the fast-paced American lifestyle and you begin to see that life is more than all of that. Even if the desire and need to immerse yourself once again in the familiar is there (believe me, I am at that point), you find that once you have experienced simplicity you can never truly go back.
Peace Corps life is not like through-hiking the AT, though they share some similarities. The misconception of Peace Corps is that you are camping for two years (I confess, I was guilty of that thought). It is 2011; there is cell-phone service at almost every point on the planet. Most Volunteers live with electricity and running water, some even have air conditioning. Some take the bus to work, other bike, and some (here’s a crazy notion) walk. West Africa is one of the few posts left where the majority of Volunteers use latrines and live without running water and electricity. I am an exception as I have both. You could say I’m a Posh Corps Volunteer, but I’m still serving in what is generally agreed upon to be once of the most hardcore posts. Volunteers are expected to dress appropriately (can’t grow a two foot beard and where a hippie-poncho, sorry) and bathe at least once a day.
So why then do I say that Peace Corps and the AT are similar? For one, both take you completely out of your element and deposit you in a different and unfamiliar setting. Both require a certain level of tolerance and will-power to survive; there is a reason why in both cases there is not a 100% success rate. But most importantly, both teach you about living and adapting to new circumstances and personal growth becomes your biggest achievement.
And then there is the food, and believe me, when it comes to food you only live once. On the trail people find themselves eating the most bizarre things, including from personal experience squirting mustard into the mouth straight out of the bottle.
In Burkina Faso there is a delight of tasty treats, home of the finest cuisine on Earth. Well not quite, there is a reason as to why there are no Burkina Faso restaurants opening up but there are some aspects of the food that do make it unique, and often, for lack of a better term, good.
I have vowed to not turn away any food ever offered to me, because you never know if you will have the chance to try it again. This does have limits, however. I won’t eat dirt, or feces, or human being, and anything else that is completely ridiculous, but if it’s cooked and it’s actually something people eat, I’m game. This has led me to some strange diets and has with little doubt cut off a few years of the end of my life. My stomach has developed an iron resistance, but I still race to the not-so-iron-throne more than I probably should.
In Thailand I ate many a great thing, many an ok thing, and well, a few horribly vile things. Same goes for Burkina Faso and Guinea. For the most part the food here is tolerable. Nothing to write home about but now that I am used to it I actually find myself craving a bowl of rice and sauce or some delicious to and sauce. To (pronounced toe) is a Sahelian staple eaten across Sub-Saharan Africa. It’s comprised of flour and water cooked in such a way that it becomes a gelatinous ball eaten with your hands. No more complicated than that.
My acceptance of food offered to me (I won’t actively search for dog meat for example) led me to my most interesting plate of food yet, donkey meat. Donkeys work their asses off here. HAHA get it? I made a pun. These animals have zero fat on their body and the meat is very tender. I was hesitant to try it because normally when someone in BF boils meat and offers it to me, I get sick. But I couldn’t deny this meat when I discovered it to be donkey meat. My taste buds have certainly changed in the last couple of years, but I swear this was one of the best meats I have ever tasted. Delicious!
Surprise! Boiled meat does it again. I don’t regret trying the amazing donkey meat, but after multiple visits to my dear porcelain friend I think I can successfully write this meat off the list. Hey, you only live once right?
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