Thursday, January 27, 2011

The Bike Ride from Hell

Call it a part of the human condition, I need to feel physically exhausted from time to time to make my life feel worthwhile. If I don't exert energy to the point of exhaustion from time to time I feel like a waste of space, like a vegetable. Sitting behind a computer 8 hours a day just is not me.

It has been more than a month since my last major bike ride. I tend to absolutely despise bike rides, just as how I despise hiking. But it's the feeling of accomplishment when all is said in done that I crave. That endorphin rush one feels after exercise is second to none, and while during a bike ride all I can think is “how much I hate my life,” for the next two days I can think “Man, I am awesome.” With Kirstin now in Belize I don't have a reason to do a long bike ride. In September through December I would habitually ride out to her village, 45km once every or every other week. I hated it every single time, but it was the feeling of accomplishment after every ride (plus seeing Kirstin on one end) that gave me the energy to keep going, to keep being a Peace Corps volunteer.

Peace Corps can be stressful, but alleviating that stress through exercise I believe is an excellent way to channel all that energy. Plus one ride would give me the energy to deal with all I have to deal with for at least a couple days after.

So this week, not having left site since I arrived from America, I needed-deserved-a bike ride. But where? Kirstin's village is out of the picture for awhile, I need to let the new volunteer there have some time to make the village her own before visiting again. I decided to do a route that I have been talking about for a long time, but just never summed up the energy. I was going to bike down to Carolyn's site, my neighbor and friend in Bagre. On a map there is no road, but that doesn't mean in Burkina Faso that a road doesn't exist. I asked many of my friends about the route, and they all said yes, a road exists, but be sure to ask people in Ouenzeogo (a small village 17km from my house) because the road can be difficult to find. They all also said I was crazy for wanting to do such a ride.

Difficult to find? No, it's a least 10 meters wide and although it is an unmarked turnoff, as long as you ask someone in Ouenzeogo it is very easy to find.

Difficult to ride? Yes, easily the most difficult bike ride of my entire life. While the road from Tenkodogo to Ouenzeogo is simple, the road from Ouenzeogo to Bagre is no fun at all.

Have you ever road a bike on a beach? Did this beach have no water for miles? Did this beach lack all signs of human civilization? Was it 105 degrees on this beach? If you answered yes to these four questions than congratulations, you have biked the Ouenzeogo-Bagre road! For 10km I struggled at a speed equivalent to a child in full sprint through sand. I saw only 2 people the whole way, both were Peulh men pushing their bicycles. When the most physically adept group of people to this climate (the Peulh) cannot even ride, you know you are in for it. It took me an hour and a half to ride 10k, with my saving grace being a small pump for water at the end of the road.

By the time I reached Bagre (which is actually another 8km by the time you intercept civilization), I was dead. Drained both physically and emotionally, I could barely muster up the energy to sit up at Carolyn's house. It wasn't until the evening that I got my endorphin rush and could finally appreciate what I had just done. But then once I got that, I realized that the ride was the best ever, and that I am definitely going to do it again! Maybe my friends in Tenkodogo were right after all.

There is nothing like seeing Africa from the perspective of a bicycle on bush roads. The sites, the silence, and the smells are incomparable to anything found elsewhere. Despite the brutal heat, in bush country the people are incredible, willing to give you water, food, and tremendous hospitality for nothing in return. I know that if I were to have serious problems in bush country I could walk up to anyone and they would go out of their way to help me, care unmatched by the fast-paced lifestyles of the African city-and let's not even get started on the developed world.

In the end, I think it is for this reason that I love hopping on my bicycle to ride into the unknown. In Tenkodogo I sometimes feel that I am missing out on what makes Africa so incredible, the people. Being so involved in my school doesn't give me the time to work with the less educated, my adult friends are all teachers and everyone speaks French. When I am on a bike I get to see a population that is very much the same as it was 100 years ago, unchanged by cell phones, internet, and technology.

Seeing the smiles of the men, the women, and the children in bush makes everything, makes me, feel worth it.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Un Jour en Paris

This week folks have the pleasure of reading two blog entries. One about my reentry into Tenkodogo, and this blog entry about the 10 hours that I had running around the streets of Paris.

Paris is in a word, beautiful. Even in freezing cold temperatures and being completely unprepared for them, it is still an incredible and lively city, with years of history following you everywhere you go. It's also f***ing expensive!

When one takes a flight from the USA to Burkina, it is normal to have a long day's layover in Paris. Transatlantic flights typically leave IAD in the evening, arriving in Paris at around 6AM the following day. And since Air France runs only one airline to Burkina daily during the evening, travellers are left with two choices, to wait around in an airport for 10 hours, or to venture into Paris. So like any good traveller, I said, “Bring it on Paris.” I went downstairs and paid the very INEXPENSIVE price of €8.70, about 12 dollars, to board the subway to Paris. I knew I was in for an expensive afternoon when I asked a man politely to help me with the ticket machine only to realize that the price given was not a mistake as I had previously thought.

I descended the train at the Eifel Tower and looked up because the station deposits you literally right next to the Eifel Tower. It is something that I have only seen in pictures and movies, and none of that, nor the weather of a 7AM January morning, takes away from the magic that is the Eifel Tower. I attempted to take an elevator up top deciding that the elevator line was so short that I could not refuse. While standing in line I met a nice family from LA, who were so generous in giving me a pair of hand warmers after they realized that I was a Peace Corps Volunteer in Subsaharan Africa who had forgotten what real cold weather feels like. Finally the elevators opened up, and realizing that one has to pay €10 just to take the elevator half way (the top was closed for repairs) decided that my money was best spent somewhere else, like a nice warm coffee. Only €4-score!


Proof that I was there!

After the Eifel Tower I began my power walk through the streets of Paris. I crisscrossed many of the bridges that span La Seine on a route progressing towards Le Pont Neuf and the island that contains the lovely Notre Dame. During the route I took a side journey down Avenue des Champs-Elysées towards L'Arc de Triomphe. I noted that every single item on that famous street had a price of more than the forty or so Euros I had in my pocket, and that includes the hamburgers at McDonalds.


L'Arc de Triomphe

I continued to walk down Champs-Elysee until the road ends at Le Louvre. Unfortunately I did not have time to enter, but given that the line was 504 hours long I thought it best to continue on (rumors are that it can take 23 years to get inside the Louvre during summer time). I decided at this point that I was hungry and chose to eat at one of Paris's finest restuaraunts, a döner shop that also sold wine - the French fries in Paris are absolutely fantastic! In all serious though, even the table wine at €5/spoonful is way better than the boxes of wine served in Burkina Faso.


Le Louvre-Everyone always said this place was big, now I believe them.


The smaller version of l'Arc de Triomphe outside le Louvre.

My final stop was the grand cathedral of Notre Dame. This was perhaps my favorite place as it was actually FREE to enter. So like any good Peace Corps volunteer, I went inside. And sat. Because outside it was freaking freezing and I still had an hour to kill. Despite no hunchback greeting me at the door, I walked around and just stared in awe at the history and beauty of the place. It is a gothic cathedral, but even the dark cathedrals of a thousand years ago still remain some of the world's most beautiful structures. Sorry DC fans, but as lovely as our cathedral is, one such as the Notre Dame which has seen visits from almost every single pope and European historical figure since 1100 AD reigns supreme.


Notre Dame, complete with a Christmas tree, or un arbre de Noel.

Alas, I finally boarded a train back to airport. The train was easily the warmest part of the trip and I managed to get some sleep as well. Somebody forget to tell the local government of Paris to turn the heat on in the city—hey, if Vegas can carve pools resembling tropical rainforests, Dubai can make islands that look like palm trees, and Qatar can convince FIFA to play the World Cup in 2022 in the "cold wintry" months of January in the Arabian Peninsula, than why can't Paris have heated streets?

First Blog Post of 2011

Happy New Year!-The First Blog of 2011


Afiss saying his version of Happy New Year to the camera.

As I was discussing with my parents during my two weeks home, when I look back upon my departure in 2009, 2011 seemed so far away. When you think of two years into the unknown, you imagine all the times that you took a major step in life and realize how far you have come. Leaving for Peace Corps, taking the leap to do something you never thought you could do, now reminds me of my departure to high school, and then college. Both times were nerve wracking emotional journeys that after a time became a normal part of my life.

Peace Corps has become like that. Leaving back in July 2009 was one of the most challenging experience I have yet to face. I still remember standing in front of the hotel in Philadelphia, the gathering point for many Peace Corps programs, and entering into a room with 16 other people who would quickly become some of my closest friends. Then having all that slashed as the Guinea program was slashed, and doing it again when I entered Burkina Faso. Philadelphia is now just a memory; so is Guinea and the evacuation to Mali. I have now entered what is potentially my final months in my Peace Corps journey which I hope to very proudly say one day that I was a volunteer in Peace Corps Burkina Faso.

As I said in my last blog entry way back in 2010, I was headed home for the United States to spend Christmas and the New Year with family and friends, including a great visit to DC by my girlfriend Kirstin. I had an excellent time home rediscovering what makes America so wonderful while at the same time reminding myself how great Burkina Faso is as well. I worried heavily about my reentry into Burkina, which was all to no avail, because this time departure to the “great unknown” was actually not at all unknown. The difference between this time and last time is that I know now what to expect, what my town has to offer me. Packing was so simple as it included only 18 packs of Top Ramen, 32 packs of instant oatmeal, 5 boxes of mac and cheese, toys, soccer balls, baseballs, and other things are so uniquely American. Everything else, yes that's right, everything else from clothes to furniture to books can all be found in Burkina. This is, after all, 2011 and internet is never as far away as your cell phone anywhere on the planet.


I am excited for this year. Not to be arrogant, but I judge my French to be bordering on fluency. Communication for me is no longer a problem, nor is living in Tenkodogo. It has all become a normal part of what is perhaps a very not normal life (Peace Corps Volunteers have all abandoned that life long ago). I hope to finish my service very strong with no regrets. My students seemed to be very excited to be back in my class, but that could also be because I am the biggest pushover ever. My fellow teachers and friends were also very excited to see me, everyone was all smiles on my first day of class on Friday. It was almost a surreal reentry, feeling almost like I have come “home,” though this version of home comes with the reality that it is only temporary, that a final and permanent departure looms over my head.

So what's on the menu for Tenkodogo 2011? More of the same. School, girl's basketball, boys leadership camp round 2, computer work, and of course other various activities. My friend organized a soccer team in his village and has asked me to coach, though coaching is just another term for supplying the ball and playing (though I have no problem with that) with a bunch of kids from a small village about 3 miles from town. I have a grandiose project in the work with Peace Corps, but I don't want to talk too much about it as it may never happen. But of course the biggest project, the one that comprises much of what we do here, is simply living a life that many people do not have the chance to live-and enjoying every minute of it.

Oh did I mention that I grew out a mustache?


Happy 2011 from Tenkodogo!