The Mystery of the Stolen Bicycle

This is a story of exactly what not to do in the Peace Corps.

I have come to trust everyone in my neighborhood. For better or for worse, being the only white person gives you a lot of advantages, including a safety net that until the other day I thought untouchable. I consistenly leave my things out in my yard, whether it be speakers, matresses, chairs, or a bike because I trust that the only people entering my compound would never steal anything I own, especially a bike that is so genuinely American that you cannot find it anywhere in Tenkodogo.

So when I tried to go meet my friends one night (using my bike as transportation of course) I saw that my bike was nowhere to be found. What the hell am I supposed to do in this situation?
I was exposed for the first time and my sense of security rocked.

I called my nieghbor and he immediatly came to help me. This affects him almost as much as it affects me simpy due to the fact that we share a compound. My things are his things, and vice versa. So if their stuff is stolen, my stuff is stolen. So what do we do? We call the principal, because he has no idea either. He knows that this bike is my lifeline here and more importantly Peace Corps property, so I'm screwed without it.

So after deciding that we would go to the police the following day, they told me to relax. "Nobody in Tenkodogo owns a bike like this," he says. "It will be easy to find." The second sentence was said in a hope for the best but expect the worst tone.

Of course this is where things became an embarrasement. My neighbor's wife comes over to me laughing hysterically. I, like the forgetful person I can be, left it at the restaurant across the street where they had been gaurding it expecting me to come back at any moment to pick it up.

This stupid little incident has now been the laugh of the week. My neighbor's wife is blackmailing me into playing soccer with the little boy or else she will tell people I cried about the bike (not true by the way!) and everyone else asks me everyday where my bike is. It's been quite a laugh for everyone, including me, but still extremely embarrasing none the less.

But it got me thinking, "what if someone had stolen the bike?" I will no longer leave it outside or unattended in my yard. Coincidentally Bob had escaped during the hour that the bike was "stolen," and even if he had been there, all the thieves would have to do is offer him a plate of spaghetti to distract him. I do not have a relationship with the police, other than the guys who work at the prison near by. I know Peace Corps wants to maintain a seperation, but we are still required to at least have our presence known by local authorities. My town is a large trading town with many trucks going by making the prospect of stealing my bike and boarding a truck to Ouaga tempting.

So what I take out of this whole thing is simple and something that all Volunteers should remember at all times. Do not rely on your being different to be an adequate security system, thieves exist everywhere and they don't take breaks. Lock things up when you are not home and take the time to say hi to local authorities, you never know when you may need them. On the plus side, I did notice how quickly my community responded. It meant a lot to me to know that they have my back when something goes wrong.

Bike returned and no mystery after all. I guess I should call this story "The Mystery of Dylan's Sometimes Empty Brain."

Rain, Rain, Don't Go Away, Come Again Another Day

RAIN.

How I love you so. It's like my love for good internet, cable tv, grocery stores, ATMs, and oh all the other things that we take for granted in life. And for the first time since I came to Burkina Faso way back on November 4th, I saw my first droplets of rain.

And boy oh boy did it rain: thunder, lightning, the whole works. And while my little doggie Bob was freaking out because for him it was the first rainstorm, I was crying-literally. I was so incredibly happy that rain came that I started crying; I was so overwhelmed. Of course that prompted Bob to freak out even more. Poor little guy, already scared by the huge storm, he now has to deal with his owner looking upset. Too bad that animals can't sense happiness from tears of joys like we do.

And then the rain stopped, and we went another few days with nothing. Except one day, where a fake storm of thunder and lightning came, with no rain. I was sitting in my typical "please rain on me clothes (standing outside in my boxers)" when my neighbor walks by and sees me. I'm pretty sure that he was wierded out, but not enough to come over and say good evening.

But then Thursday came, and it rained so hard again that the temperature in my house dropped 20 degrees, from a horrendous 105 + humidity to a very comfortable 85-no humidity.

So folks back home, please package up your rain in a hypothetical box and send it via Mother Nature Express to Tenkodogo, Burkina Faso.

I await your gifts wearing only the finest pair of "please rain on me clothes." Boxers.

Skype

So another one, short and sweet. Not to much to report this week, but in trying to keep up with a weekly blog I feel I must at least type something.

My Japanese friend and I started the week off by practicing our English and Japanese, respectively. It amazed me how much I actually retained from a wasted year of Japanese as a freshman at college, so it was actually pretty fun. I still got the Hiragana down.

This was a terrific week for me, despite having to stay up til 2AM grading 104 math papers (my fault of course for waiting til the last minute) and having 7AM class the next morning. I finally got my 8GB USB key that I have been fighting for months to get. It's not my key, we used the money made by the computer lab (each student must pay 600franc CFA to use) to buy the key. With it I can now begin installing larger programs onto the now 11 computers that we employ and I can leave it after I have left Tenkodogo for the administration to use. Plus, the school is on page with my plans for next year with the formation of a new, and RESPONSIBLE, student committee to take charge next year of the computer lab.

The main reason for this little blog update is that I changed my Skype name. I could not remember my old account and password and obtaining the info proved to be futile since my old acount was registered under a now defunct dhbutler@uvm.edu email address.

So bad news is you all must locate my new account at dylanhbutler, good news is I have Skype!

Les Hommes de Force

So I want to tell you all about a baby project of mine that is in the works right now. A project sort of related to education, but on a much more informal basis, similar to my role as a mentor in City FC back in the land of highways and fast-food.

Since my internet time is short, and I don't want to get too excited about this project before it crashes and burns, I will only write a bit about what it is I have in store.

In West Africa, and especially Burkina Faso, there is a lot of emphasis on girls empowerment. Girls empowerment sounds great and all, but the reality is that it is not practiced to the fullest extent that it could be. It's simply a term that many people use to make themselves sound better, sort of like how we have so many Manchester United fans in the world. In a sense, a bandwagon cause. We in Peace Corps Burkina Faso have placed a great emphasis on girls empowerment, and I have seen a way to do it using a different method: by working with boys. Because how can we promote the equality of women without getting men on the same page?

So I started the idea of a group called Les Hommes de Force, a group named after a group we had a School Without Walls, Men of Strength. I wrote up a plan in French, and gave it to my principal (also my private French teacher) to review. Not only was he encouraging, but he seems excited to help in some small capacity providing me with contacts like the governor to come and talk with my boys about being a man in a changing world, and how to keep up with the times. The group will discuss gender equality and family planning (keeping in mind the Burkina culture of course), as well as information about the prevention of malaria, HIV/AIDS, and other diseases often associated with West Africa. And we will play some football too just too keep them interested.

He is going to help with the selection of the boys from school. We will take 4 students from each 6th grade and 5th grade class (grades go in opposite order here) who demonstrate the values of a leader in the classroom, which we will hopefully get them to demonstrate outside the classroom as well. While everything seems grandiose, we are working things out to make it doable for 2-3 weeks in June. I am super excited because this, unlike my teaching, is my first real project that I started and collaberated on. I only hope that things work out.

Oh, and the Washington Capitals are freaking awesome. C A P S CAPS CAPS CAPS!

A week of Domes, Rubix Cubes, and Togo

So my vacation has ended, but what a vacation it was. I travelled all the way to the west to see the Domes and Waterfalls of Burkina, to Ouaga for a Rubix-Cube themed party, and to Togo for an amazing beach vacation. I will not go into details of the Rubix Cube party, but let's just say that it involves lot of colorful clothing.

I will however, discuss the other two parts of my vacation.

I went to the Southwest to help out with a Girls HIV/AIDS training and soccer camp. It such an amazing event put on by four other Volunteers that I almost felt like I crashed the whole thing. But I don't feel too bad about it, I got to sport a donated pink referee jersey and get back to my referee past. For "field trips" we got to see the waterfalls of Burkina (nothing special) and the Domes. The Domes, however, were amazing and deserve a second trip. They are naturally formed cliffs that are shaped like domes, or free standing columns, that are said to have been formed by the ocean a long time ago. Don't know about the second part, but they are an awesome spectacle that proves that even Burkina Faso can have cool geography.

Rubix Cube--skip that part. Send me an email if you are really interested (Hint hint).

Now onto the last part, Togo.

It started with a bus trip from hell with salami sandwiches, and ended with a bus trip from hell without salami sandwhiches. A total of about 40 hours spent on 2 busses (that's traveling in West Africa for you).

But in between was heaven, a vacation unlike any other I have ever taken. 7 Volunteers and I stayed at a beach side hut resort for 4 dollars a night where the staff would wait on us hand and foot. Fresh fish to eat, delicious. Boat ride in the ocean, done. Some haggler annoying us and we dont want him, gone. One volunteer had his camera stolen. No probem, the staff of Chez Antoine got it back. Palm trees lined this beautiful beach facing the Atlantic Ocean, and cold beer on demand. Oh, we even taught our host about beer pong, he loved it!

In short, it was a wonderful vacation. No crazy stories (minus the boat ride) making it a very relaxing time at the beach. I certainly plan on going there again, if I can tolerate the horrid bus rides on the outside of the sandwich.

I will leave you with a quote spoken by some random Finnish man that approached us at dinner the first night. And my friend's very hilarious response to this awkward question.

Random Finnish guy, "Are you volunteers, or sexual tourists?"

PCV friend, "Can't we be both?"

Spring Break!

Not a whole lot to report lately, I know my blog has been pretty dead in March, other than the posting of a mutt named Bob (who managed to find a pig jaw last night on our bike ride home from my friends house). Amazing how time passes once you become comfortable in a place. I'm making friends, working a lot, playing soccer and basketball on a regular basis, and keeping myself remarkably healthy. I have found strategies to counter the word Nisara that are both culturally acceptable and effective, and as a result none of the students dare call me that at school. I am known as Monsieur Dylan (They think Dylan is my family name) to a great number of people here in Tenkodogo.

Yes life is very good. Things no longer suprise me here, I've grown used to the music and food and have started to become my own person at site, not just that weirdo white guy. As most PCVs will tell you, the first couple months you agree to everything because you don't want to offend anyone. Now I don't care as much, and have zero problems in setting my bounds.
Though I will say I was suprised once, when I saw two guys on camel back rolling through. I sat there mesmerized as everyone else continued on their normal routines, as if camels are just as common as goats and donkeys. Hell, I draw more attention than a guy riding on camel back!

"Oh those are just the Peulhs, they come through here on camel back when the weather gets too hot up north. Nothing special."

However, I do expect some of the extraordinary as I prepare myself for my first full blown vacation. Yes that's right, I am taking a vacation.

First stop, Komthoega 40k west to do a computer workshop with my PCV nieghbor Kirstin (the one who gave me Bob) and her girl's club.

Second stop, Banfora, where I will be returning to my roots as a soccer ref coaching girls soccer games in a Peace Corps sponsored soccer tournament in the West. I can't wait to wear the old zebra stripes (in my case pink zebra stripes).

Third stop, Ouagadougou, for an enourmous Peace Corps gathering for the Volunteers leaving in the next coming months. I believe that all or almost all of the 102 Volunteers in Burkina will be in attendance.

Fourth stop (my real vacation), Togo. I am going to the beach baby! Going to stick my little feetsies in the Atlantic for the first time since summer, 2008. Note* I did not dare touch the ocean in Conakry.

In total that makes four stops in 17 days before I must resume, and readjust, to my life in Tenkodogo. Ahhhhh how I love Spring Break.

Annnnnnnd I Give You Bob!

Puppy Bob

Bob and his buddy, Bobby (I just vaccinated the two)

Bob in a basket

He's bigger than my backpack now.