It's true. Last week I flew to Nigeria, of all the random places in the world, and asked my girlfriend, Rene Marshall, to marry me. And guess what? She said yes.
Suhhhh-weeet!
Here's the full scoop, minus the spit-swapping and other TMI sorts of things:
THE BACKGROUND
So, as many of you may already know, I have been dating this girl, Rene Marshall, since the summer of 2005 when we met at camp and decided, after some awkward salsa dancing and capsized sailboats, that we liked each other. We have dated long distance throughout much of our relationship-- me in Paris, Rene in the States; Rene hiking the Appalachian Trail, me at Middlebury; Rene being in Nigeria, me being in Guinea. Despite the separation, however, we've continued to grow closer and closer over these past three years.
After visiting with Rene in Northern Ireland last year, I felt a real peace about the idea of marriage in a way that I hadn't ever felt before. I began praying about proposing and felt God giving me the green light. Over Christmas, I asked her folks if it was cool, and they both said to "go get 'em slugger." Well, not in as many words, but they gave their blessing. So I decided to start planning a ridiculously cool, amazingly romantic, stunning surprise proposal trip to Nigeria, where Rene was and is working as a Youth Camp Coordinator for Serving in Mission (SIM).
THE PREPARATION
Rene's little sister, Kari, happens to be working in Nigeria as well. The same city and everything. How helpful! I had been thinking, for a long time, of surprising Rene with a proposal in a way that was creative, fun, and communicated to her just how special she was. Guitars, campfires, scandalously romantic poems came to mind. So, after I got back from my X-mas trip to the States, I emailed Kari and asked her if, indeed, it was possible to come to Nigeria without Rene knowing it and propose. She said, "go get 'em slugger." Well, not in as many words, but she said she could help make it work. So we got to work with the nitty-gritties: visas, plane tickets, dates, rides from airports, places to stay, etc. We worked it out so that Rene-- wonderful, oblivious Rene-- would think that I was coming to visit at the end of May, when, in reality, I was actually coming to visit on April 21st. And Kari-- my inside woman-- made it all happen on the Nigeria end, with help from other folks as well. I was to show up in Abuja early on the 21st, be taken to the camp where Rene was working, and propose, in stunningly unforgettable fashion.
So-- plane ticket bought, rides arranged, passport in hand, butterflies in stomach, I boarded the plane from Guinea to Nigeria and prayed for the best.
THE PROPOSAL
The flight from Conakry to Lagos was four hours late. Thus, I got into Lagos-- the second most dangerous city in the world for clueless white dudes, studies show-- at midnight. I was terrified. Kari had said that she had set up a person to meet me at the airport and put me up for the night, but of course, this was Africa-- why would anything go "according to plan?" Silly western notions. So if Plan A didn't come off, I was planning on holding up my wallet and passport, writing "ROB ME" on my forehead in permanent marker, skipping out the airport singing "It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood" and hoping for the best. Yet, thanks to my wonderful planners, I got to stick to Plan A and was met by a Nigerian man named Stephen who held a sign saying "Kyle Rene." I figured, since I knew 50% of the people represented on that sign, it must apply to me, and so I approached the man, shook his hand vigorously, and asked him if he was indeed the person who was supposed to meet me here. He said yes. Woohoo! So, in typical wonderful African hospitality, I was taken from the airport, showered, fed, hosted, and generally well loved until the next morning, when I was taken back to the airport to get my flight to Abuja, and from there, a car ride to Rene's camp in a town called Gombe.
Unfortunately, I missed my flight to Abuja. Two things caused this: 1) me having my clock an hour behind (I gained a time zone coming to Nigeria) and 2) African punctuality (or lack thereof). Stephen, my main man, came into my room at what I thought was 5:30am, and told me to get ready to go to the airport for my 6:50am flight. No problem, right? Except that it was 6:30 and I had twenty minutes to catch my flight! So it wasn't until I was being driven out onto the tarmac, watching my plane's outside door being closed and sealed, that I glanced at the clock on the car I was in and realized I was indeed an hour behind. Grrrr.
So, trying to keep my breathing pattern normal, I hurried back into the airport and went to the airline desk.
"Uh, sir?" I accosted the disinterested airline official. "I just missed my flight and need to get to Abuja. What do I do?"
The man gestured at the ticket window. "Go buy a new ticket. Plenty of airlines have flights to Abuja today."
"I don't have any Naira. Is there any way you can just put me on a new flight?" I gave him my best pathetic-white-dude look and smiled beseechingly.
"Go talk to the people at the counter," he said.
I thanked him and walked over to the ticket counter. There were three large Nigerian women behind the glass.
"Good morning, ladies-- I just missed my flight to Abuja and I was wondering if there's any way I can get on a new flight this morning."
I tried to look cute. They all looked at each other.
"Bellview Airlines only has one flight a day. You can come back tomorrow morning and catch the early flight," one woman said.
"I need to get to Abuja today though-- are there any other flights?" I asked.
"Why do you need to get to Abuja today?" one asked.
"I'm proposing to my girlfriend." I smiled winningly and gave her bambi eyes. They all laughed and clapped.
"Well-- in that case, paying 14,000 Naira for a new ticket shouldn't be a problem, right? Anything for a proposal!" the woman said.
"But ma'am," I said, "I don't have any Naira! Do you guys take credit cards?"
They shook their heads.
"Is there any way you can help me?" I pleaded.
They all looked at each other, again. The one on the right typed a few things in her computer and printed off a receipt. "Here--" she said, "Take this money and go buy a ticket on the Afrijet flight at 8:15." She refunded my ticket and handed me the cash.
I wanted to kiss her.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you, all of you!"
I dashed over to the Afrijet counter, got a new ticket, and went to the gate to board my new plane. Sweet, sweet, Bellview Airlines employees!
Arriving in Abuja, I was met by two Nigerian guys-- Victor and Shammah. They told me that they had been informed of the grand plan, and had been commissioned by Kari and co. to escort me out to Rene's camp in Gombe. Shammah even had a video camera, and told me he was going to take lots of film "to make the engagement even more special." Great idea. We all piled into Victor's van and drove the nine hours to Gombe.
We got there after dark due to the looooong drive, and had a quick team meeting. I had wanted a) to have some kind of campfire to invite Rene to and b) to have a chance to shower, change, and look presentable after 24 hrs of continuous travel. Neither seemed to be feasable, due to three hours of torrential rain and the location of Rene's camp being at a local school. So, I threw on a collared shirt, hastily applied some Old Spice in the back of the van, and told the guys I was ready.
Prepping the big surprise, we found a spare classroom that was a little ways away from the rest of camp and arrayed our flashlights around the room in order to provide a sufficient amount of light for the video camera. I grabbed my guitar, checked to be sure it was in tune, and positioned myself with my back to the door. One of the camp staff went and got Rene and told her to come because "a camper was crying and needed to talk to her."
We waited a few minutes. I fiddled with my guitar. Agony.
I heard her feet, shuffling across the floor behind me, my heart leaped into my throat, and then:
"No freaking way."
I turned slightly, to see Rene: hair askew, eyes squinted, staring at me, smiling, shaking her head slowly back and forth.
"Are you kidding me?" she asked rhetorically, still staring.
I smiled back and told her to have a seat on the bench in front of me. She sat down slowly, still shaking her head. I took a deep breath and proceeded to play our favorite song, the song we were both singing when we first met: "In Christ Alone." I strummed and sang the first and last verses, and then pulled out a letter I had written to her and read it. I told her I loved her and asked her to marry me.
And guess what? She said yes!
Duh-duh-daa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SO YEAH
So, turns out we're engaged! Rene and I had a wonderful week in Nigeria together-- visiting with her friends, seeing the work that she's involved with, walking through the Jos market, eating meat pies, going on a safari (sans animals, phooey), playing ultimate frisbee with the horde of missionaries that live in the city. It was a joyous week, if short. It looks like we'll be having the wedding early next summer, after we both get back from Africa. Should be a blast!
Thanks for reading. There'll be more from Guinea in the next installment.
'Til then,
Much love,
From Africa,
Andrew
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Papa Haile meets Jabobo Barry and the women of Boulliwel
Greetings friends!
These past 10 days I've enjoyed a visit from the one and only John "It's a Great Day for Sailing!" Haile. Let me tell you a few stories of his visit:
Returning from a successful bread-buying mission to the marketplace and back, I dismounted from my bike and swung open the creaky screen door to my house in Boulliwel. There was dad, sitting on my couch, decked out in his finest Guinean garb: a black-and-blue striped boubou robe, a tall green-and-orange puuto-- the trademark old man's hat-- and a most distinguished air of elderly Fouta authority. He was sitting next to a handful of my middle school boys, and seemed to be engaged in an animated game of Guinean Guesstures.
Dad would point to the table, for instance, jabbing his finger downwards and enunciating very clearly: Taay-buhl. Taay-buhl. Got it, guys?
A high-pitched chorus of young male voices-- puberty has yet to strike for several of my boys-- repeated enthusiastically: TAAA-BUW!
Dad paused from his first real exercise in the exploration of language barriers and greeted me, a relieved look on his face.
"Practicing English, pops?" I asked, stowing my bike in the spare room. "Good stuff."
"Yeah-- It's been interesting," Dad said, in the tone of voice that seemed to say this sort of thing was interesting in a do-it-for-Andrew, character-building sort of way.
"Andre!" one of my boys piped up. "Il faut dire a ton pere qu'on va partir aux Etats-Unis ensemble, eh?" He gestured with his finger, pointing at himself, then my dad, then in what seemed to be a westerly direction.
Dad shot me a quizzical glance.
"He says he wants you guys to go back to the US together," I said, shooing a boy aside and sitting down in the chair across from dad.
"Oh!" he chuckled, nodding. This was at least the fifth time someone had made a similar remark. "Tell him I don't think he'll fit in my bag, but we could try."
I translated and then quickly commandeered the conversation, changing the subject. There were things to discuss.
"Dad-- I hope you're ready for some real awkwardness tonight," I said. "The neighborhood women are all coming to dance for you."
"What?!" Dad asked, incredulous. "Dancing?"
"Yup," I nodded grimly. "I just had the fourth woman in the last two days confirm that they are coming tonight to amanayon-- dance for you. They say they'll be here at 17h00 and to be ready."
"Oh wow," said Dad, shuffling uncomfortably on the couch.
My friend and neighbor, a woman named Jabobo Barry, had originally approached me with the idea of dancing to greet and welcome my dad. She said it was a Fouta tradition to dance for respected visitors in order to make them feel welcome to their village and country. She asked me what time she and a couple of her friends could come and greet dad. I told her Sunday night was good. She clapped me on the back and told me she'd let her friends know. I scratched at the whorl of hair at the top of my head and wondered just what to expect.
17h00 on Sunday evening came and went-- African time, of course-- with dad and I sitting in the house skimming the Atlantic Monthly and talking about Brooks School. Every so often I would peek out the door, watching for signs of feminine mobilization. Sure enough, at 18h15, I heard the sounds of someone beating a stick on a plastic jerrycan, followed by clapping and the titters of what seemed a large group of people.
"Boubacar!" I heard M. Diallo's voice over the din. "Viens ici!"
I stepped out of the house and nearly teared up at what I saw. There, outside my fence, was a group of more than 30 women dressed to the nines and talking excitedly amongst themselves. I recognized my friends and neighbors from the village: Mme Diallo, Jabobo in her bright purple complet, the Sous-Prefet's wife, the lady I buy tomatoes from, the old woman who holds my hand and strokes my arm when I greet her, the middle school girls who I teach English to. They had all come with the express purpose of making my dad feel as welcome as possible in Boulliwel.
They broke into song, clapping and forming a dance circle. M. Diallo told me to bring my dad out to watch.
"Come on out, dad! They're ready for you," I called inside.
Dad emerged from the house looking regal in his boubou and puuto. Someone brought over a chair for him and he sat down to watch-- for the next half hour-- a large group of African women dance and clap and sing and cheer and laugh, all in order to welcome him. What an unbelievable experience.
The women danced, each one taking turns in the middle of the circle to show off their moves. Some had babies tied to their backs with towels, others didn't; some had elaborate head scarves, others not-- all seemed to throw themselves into the showmanship with energy and gusto.
M. Diallo took it upon himself to share some cultural insights with me as the dancing progressed.
"You see, Boubacar," he explained, "you understand what they are singing? They are singing that when one receives a visitor in Africa, they must be loved and welcomed."
"Now they are singing that Boubacar's heart can rest easy-- his father has come to visit."
"They do this only for the most honored guests as an expression of gratitude for having visited their village."
M. Diallo's comments only served to fill my heart with more joy-- what an amazing honor it was!
Dad, in the meantime, took it like a champ, grinning, snapping photos, sitting in his chair with his moustache and man-robe displayed proudly. The women danced for a while and then presented Dad with a platter full of eggs-- a gift of some symbolic importance for Peuhl women. I tried to find the words to express just how grateful we both were, but ended up just saying "Albarka" about 100 times. What an evening.
This was just one example of the fun Papa Bear and I had here in Guinea over the past few days. As I said before, Dad was a trooper, tackling the language barrier, the cultural adjustment, a lugnut-challenged bush taxi, a room full of village elders, a health post opening ceremony, rice and sauce, and hordes of children with grace, patience, and a great sense of humor. During lunch yesterday with a French NGO director, he warned dad that now that he's been given a shot of the Guinea bug, he may find it impossible to resist coming back! Whether that's true remains to be seen. But it was an awesome trip.
In the meantime, a quick project update: After a couple of meetings with the oversight committee for the NGO project, I've withdrawn the money needed for the carpentry phase of construction and given it to the appropriate people to make the purchases needed. The work is supposed to be under way by the time I get back to Boulliwel tomorrow night, and I will collect the receipts and take stock of the inventory on Monday. If all goes well with the carpentry, then the roofing, masonry, painting, and furniture installation should come shortly after. Thanks for your support and your interest in Boulliwel! I will keep you posted as the work progresses.
In the meantime,
Much love,
From Africa,
Andrew
These past 10 days I've enjoyed a visit from the one and only John "It's a Great Day for Sailing!" Haile. Let me tell you a few stories of his visit:
Returning from a successful bread-buying mission to the marketplace and back, I dismounted from my bike and swung open the creaky screen door to my house in Boulliwel. There was dad, sitting on my couch, decked out in his finest Guinean garb: a black-and-blue striped boubou robe, a tall green-and-orange puuto-- the trademark old man's hat-- and a most distinguished air of elderly Fouta authority. He was sitting next to a handful of my middle school boys, and seemed to be engaged in an animated game of Guinean Guesstures.
Dad would point to the table, for instance, jabbing his finger downwards and enunciating very clearly: Taay-buhl. Taay-buhl. Got it, guys?
A high-pitched chorus of young male voices-- puberty has yet to strike for several of my boys-- repeated enthusiastically: TAAA-BUW!
Dad paused from his first real exercise in the exploration of language barriers and greeted me, a relieved look on his face.
"Practicing English, pops?" I asked, stowing my bike in the spare room. "Good stuff."
"Yeah-- It's been interesting," Dad said, in the tone of voice that seemed to say this sort of thing was interesting in a do-it-for-Andrew, character-building sort of way.
"Andre!" one of my boys piped up. "Il faut dire a ton pere qu'on va partir aux Etats-Unis ensemble, eh?" He gestured with his finger, pointing at himself, then my dad, then in what seemed to be a westerly direction.
Dad shot me a quizzical glance.
"He says he wants you guys to go back to the US together," I said, shooing a boy aside and sitting down in the chair across from dad.
"Oh!" he chuckled, nodding. This was at least the fifth time someone had made a similar remark. "Tell him I don't think he'll fit in my bag, but we could try."
I translated and then quickly commandeered the conversation, changing the subject. There were things to discuss.
"Dad-- I hope you're ready for some real awkwardness tonight," I said. "The neighborhood women are all coming to dance for you."
"What?!" Dad asked, incredulous. "Dancing?"
"Yup," I nodded grimly. "I just had the fourth woman in the last two days confirm that they are coming tonight to amanayon-- dance for you. They say they'll be here at 17h00 and to be ready."
"Oh wow," said Dad, shuffling uncomfortably on the couch.
My friend and neighbor, a woman named Jabobo Barry, had originally approached me with the idea of dancing to greet and welcome my dad. She said it was a Fouta tradition to dance for respected visitors in order to make them feel welcome to their village and country. She asked me what time she and a couple of her friends could come and greet dad. I told her Sunday night was good. She clapped me on the back and told me she'd let her friends know. I scratched at the whorl of hair at the top of my head and wondered just what to expect.
17h00 on Sunday evening came and went-- African time, of course-- with dad and I sitting in the house skimming the Atlantic Monthly and talking about Brooks School. Every so often I would peek out the door, watching for signs of feminine mobilization. Sure enough, at 18h15, I heard the sounds of someone beating a stick on a plastic jerrycan, followed by clapping and the titters of what seemed a large group of people.
"Boubacar!" I heard M. Diallo's voice over the din. "Viens ici!"
I stepped out of the house and nearly teared up at what I saw. There, outside my fence, was a group of more than 30 women dressed to the nines and talking excitedly amongst themselves. I recognized my friends and neighbors from the village: Mme Diallo, Jabobo in her bright purple complet, the Sous-Prefet's wife, the lady I buy tomatoes from, the old woman who holds my hand and strokes my arm when I greet her, the middle school girls who I teach English to. They had all come with the express purpose of making my dad feel as welcome as possible in Boulliwel.
They broke into song, clapping and forming a dance circle. M. Diallo told me to bring my dad out to watch.
"Come on out, dad! They're ready for you," I called inside.
Dad emerged from the house looking regal in his boubou and puuto. Someone brought over a chair for him and he sat down to watch-- for the next half hour-- a large group of African women dance and clap and sing and cheer and laugh, all in order to welcome him. What an unbelievable experience.
The women danced, each one taking turns in the middle of the circle to show off their moves. Some had babies tied to their backs with towels, others didn't; some had elaborate head scarves, others not-- all seemed to throw themselves into the showmanship with energy and gusto.
M. Diallo took it upon himself to share some cultural insights with me as the dancing progressed.
"You see, Boubacar," he explained, "you understand what they are singing? They are singing that when one receives a visitor in Africa, they must be loved and welcomed."
"Now they are singing that Boubacar's heart can rest easy-- his father has come to visit."
"They do this only for the most honored guests as an expression of gratitude for having visited their village."
M. Diallo's comments only served to fill my heart with more joy-- what an amazing honor it was!
Dad, in the meantime, took it like a champ, grinning, snapping photos, sitting in his chair with his moustache and man-robe displayed proudly. The women danced for a while and then presented Dad with a platter full of eggs-- a gift of some symbolic importance for Peuhl women. I tried to find the words to express just how grateful we both were, but ended up just saying "Albarka" about 100 times. What an evening.
This was just one example of the fun Papa Bear and I had here in Guinea over the past few days. As I said before, Dad was a trooper, tackling the language barrier, the cultural adjustment, a lugnut-challenged bush taxi, a room full of village elders, a health post opening ceremony, rice and sauce, and hordes of children with grace, patience, and a great sense of humor. During lunch yesterday with a French NGO director, he warned dad that now that he's been given a shot of the Guinea bug, he may find it impossible to resist coming back! Whether that's true remains to be seen. But it was an awesome trip.
In the meantime, a quick project update: After a couple of meetings with the oversight committee for the NGO project, I've withdrawn the money needed for the carpentry phase of construction and given it to the appropriate people to make the purchases needed. The work is supposed to be under way by the time I get back to Boulliwel tomorrow night, and I will collect the receipts and take stock of the inventory on Monday. If all goes well with the carpentry, then the roofing, masonry, painting, and furniture installation should come shortly after. Thanks for your support and your interest in Boulliwel! I will keep you posted as the work progresses.
In the meantime,
Much love,
From Africa,
Andrew
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Albarka! Merci beaucoup!
Hello everyone,
As they say in Guinea to express deep gratitude: Albarka! Yo Alla okkuon cellal, et kaliisi, et barke buy. Thank you-- may God grant you health, money, and many blessings.
Last Sunday I received a text message that my Peace Corps Partnership Project had been funded in its entirety. This is a direct answer to prayer-- thank you so much! The people of Boulliwel greatly appreciate your kindness, especially considering the tough times many are facing back in the States. I've met this week with the oversight committee to talk about the details of the work that needs to be done: truckloads of gravel and sand must be ordered, bags of cement purchased and safely stored near the worksight, lumber 'n' nails 'n' paint bought and put to good use. We've established an ambitious work schedule and hope to finish within seven weeks time, before the rains begin and slow things down.
Thanks to you, the local Boulliwel NGO will now have the opportunity to establish a central headquarters in the heart of the village, just 100 yards from the National Road the runs from Mamou to Labe. Once completed, this building will be the home to APIB, the do-it-all NGO that organizes women's collectives, builds health posts and schools, and hosts trainings by organizations like UNICEF, PLAN-Guinee, and World Education. The community has been informed and the details of the work have been hashed out in order to ensure the proper management of the funds. I will keep you all updated as the work progresses. We hope to have our opening ceremony in the beginning of May.
In the meantime, thank you so much again for your generosity. It is my prayer that this project will truly be an expression of compassion from the people and communities that I'm involved with in the US to the village where I serve in Guinea, Boulliwel.
The work is scheduled to start this week. In the meantime, I have just gotten into Conakry to prepare for the arrival of.... Big papa Haile! That's right folks, John Haile, prep school teacher and one-time bearer of the name Norton will descend on Guinea tomorrow night at 9:10 pm (right mom?). Of all the places Dad has chosen to spend 10 days of his vacation, he picked Guinea! What a guy. I am now anxiously finding him clean sheets in the Peace Corps house and a pocket French dictionary. Whether he is fazed by sharing the back seat of a bush taxi with a goat remains to be seen.
More creative emails to come! Thanks again for your help with the project.
Yours from dusty Conakry,
Andrew
As they say in Guinea to express deep gratitude: Albarka! Yo Alla okkuon cellal, et kaliisi, et barke buy. Thank you-- may God grant you health, money, and many blessings.
Last Sunday I received a text message that my Peace Corps Partnership Project had been funded in its entirety. This is a direct answer to prayer-- thank you so much! The people of Boulliwel greatly appreciate your kindness, especially considering the tough times many are facing back in the States. I've met this week with the oversight committee to talk about the details of the work that needs to be done: truckloads of gravel and sand must be ordered, bags of cement purchased and safely stored near the worksight, lumber 'n' nails 'n' paint bought and put to good use. We've established an ambitious work schedule and hope to finish within seven weeks time, before the rains begin and slow things down.
Thanks to you, the local Boulliwel NGO will now have the opportunity to establish a central headquarters in the heart of the village, just 100 yards from the National Road the runs from Mamou to Labe. Once completed, this building will be the home to APIB, the do-it-all NGO that organizes women's collectives, builds health posts and schools, and hosts trainings by organizations like UNICEF, PLAN-Guinee, and World Education. The community has been informed and the details of the work have been hashed out in order to ensure the proper management of the funds. I will keep you all updated as the work progresses. We hope to have our opening ceremony in the beginning of May.
In the meantime, thank you so much again for your generosity. It is my prayer that this project will truly be an expression of compassion from the people and communities that I'm involved with in the US to the village where I serve in Guinea, Boulliwel.
The work is scheduled to start this week. In the meantime, I have just gotten into Conakry to prepare for the arrival of.... Big papa Haile! That's right folks, John Haile, prep school teacher and one-time bearer of the name Norton will descend on Guinea tomorrow night at 9:10 pm (right mom?). Of all the places Dad has chosen to spend 10 days of his vacation, he picked Guinea! What a guy. I am now anxiously finding him clean sheets in the Peace Corps house and a pocket French dictionary. Whether he is fazed by sharing the back seat of a bush taxi with a goat remains to be seen.
More creative emails to come! Thanks again for your help with the project.
Yours from dusty Conakry,
Andrew
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Mom addendum
sent 1/27/09
Hello everybody and sorry for the obnoxious extra emails:
Two quiiiick things:
Un: I was talking to my mom and she mentioned that there might be a few folks who were interested in donating to my project but didn't feel comfortable donating online. So, for those folks (I imagine, perhaps, the computer illiterate, the octagenarian crowd and maybe Jono Newton), scroll down and follow the instructions on how to mail a check to Peace Corps.
Deux: So Middlebury erased all our email accounts-- silly folks-- and now all the Midd people who were on my list aren't getting these... If, by any chance, someone had updated email addresses for Meg McFadden, the Mays, Alison Duquette, Alex Crumb, April Peet, , Rachel Fong, Josh Hendrickson, or Ed Len, could you send me those? Also, if you are among these people and you have any interest at all in getting past emails that you might have missed, please just email me and let me know.
Thanks, and gros bisous,
Andrew
AJ,
People who might want to make a contribution by check should know:
Make out check to: Peace Corps Partnership
Indicate your name and project number: 675-136
Send check to: Peace Corps Partnership Program
Paul D. Coverdell Peace Corps Headquarters
1111 20th Street, NW
Washington, DC 20526
Love you!
Mom
Hello everybody and sorry for the obnoxious extra emails:
Two quiiiick things:
Un: I was talking to my mom and she mentioned that there might be a few folks who were interested in donating to my project but didn't feel comfortable donating online. So, for those folks (I imagine, perhaps, the computer illiterate, the octagenarian crowd and maybe Jono Newton), scroll down and follow the instructions on how to mail a check to Peace Corps.
Deux: So Middlebury erased all our email accounts-- silly folks-- and now all the Midd people who were on my list aren't getting these... If, by any chance, someone had updated email addresses for Meg McFadden, the Mays, Alison Duquette, Alex Crumb, April Peet, , Rachel Fong, Josh Hendrickson, or Ed Len, could you send me those? Also, if you are among these people and you have any interest at all in getting past emails that you might have missed, please just email me and let me know.
Thanks, and gros bisous,
Andrew
AJ,
People who might want to make a contribution by check should know:
Make out check to: Peace Corps Partnership
Indicate your name and project number: 675-136
Send check to: Peace Corps Partnership Program
Paul D. Coverdell Peace Corps Headquarters
1111 20th Street, NW
Washington, DC 20526
Love you!
Mom
Monday, January 26, 2009
Coup d'etats and less mochas, more aluminum sheeting
e-mail from Andrew sent 1/25/09
Bonjour a tous!
So I was in the United States for a little while. It's a magical place. They have Japanese Hibachi grills and football on TV. Plus less farm animals. I had a whirlwind couple of weeks-- trips to camp and college, skiing with Dad and cousins, Mom's chicken-and-broccoli casserole-- what's not to like? I even got to see Pascal Losambe. Twice.
Amazing place.
In the meantime, Guinea, this lovely crescent-shaped little country that I live in, had a bloodless coup d'etat after the president died due to illness.
Rumors had been flying for several weeks before the news was confirmed. I got to Conakry in late December in preparation for my trip home, and my taxi driver told me, with utter sincerity, that he was sure the President was dead. He said Conte's entourage just didn't want to let the news out until they had decided what to do next. I got to the Peace Corps office and the guards there all shook their heads scornfully-- "nah-- he's still holding on." I got into the Peace Corps house and one of the Volunteers there was sure the president was dead and the country was going to dissolve into anarchy. The next day our Peace Corps Director told me this was confirmedly false, and Conte was alive.
And so the rumors went, until the day I got home and was sitting at the dining room table playing Boggle with my little sister when my mom brought down a BBC article she had printed out. The headline read: Guineans face uncertain future: President Lansana Conte's death spells the end of years of misrule in Guinea.
"Welp," I thought, "that was timely. I guess that pretty much settles the rumors."
Guinea, a resource-rich country that still remains painfully under-developed, has suffered mightily since it's independence from France in 1958. It's first ruler, a socialist dictator named Sekou Toure, brought Guinea together through his passionate defiance of the French. He said famously, "Nous preferons la liberte dans la pauvrete que l'oppulence dans l'esclavage" = "We prefer freedom in poverty to prosperity in slavery." Despite this strong start to independence, Toure turned out to be a ruthless leader, closing the country to the West, murdering many of his political rivals, and refusing to give up power until his death in 1984, when, after a coup of his own, Lansana Conte swept to power with promises of liberalization, democracy, and a fresh start. These promises were only a mask for Conte's real intentions for wielding power: make himself and his entourage fabulously rich. People estimate that at the time of his death Conte was worth over a billion dollars. And this in a country where the majority of people live in mud huts on less than a dollar a day. Guinea is the world's second-largest exporter of bauxite-- the metal used to make aluminum-- yet none of this mineral wealth ever makes it to the petit Mamadous, or Average Joes, of the country.
Needless to say, people were happy with the change in regime. A young military captain, Moussa Dadis Camara, was chosen to head up the military junta that secured power following Conte's death. He has promised to root out corruption (good luck) and hold elections by 2010-- both admirable goals and what everyone wants to hear. People seem cautiously supportive, yet are skeptical-- with good reason. Conte came to power in '84 saying very similar-sounding things. Not long after, he realized just how much he stood to gain by stealing the country's money, and clung to power until he died. "We are praying for Guinea," everyone tells me here, and I join them gladly, knowing that it will need more than words to alter a system of governance that, like a giant tree rotting from the inside-out, is diseased by corruption at every level.
Changing the topic, for those of you who have read this far, I need your help! As I wrote in my last email, I have spent the last seven months working with the community of Boulliwel to put together a Peace Corps Partnership Project. With funds that I hope to raise through people like you, we are going to finish the construction of a community building in my village. It will house the local Boulliwel NGO APIB, or the "Association for the Promotion of Local Development Initiatives." They work with other national and international organizations building schools, housing for teachers, and health posts all throughout the Sub-Prefecture where I live.
Our goal is to raise around 5,500$ to give the NGO-- which does great work on behalf of the people of Boulliwel-- a beautiful home from which to conduct their development activities. I have told them that I would do my absolute best to get that money raised, and, after drafting the proposal and writing up the budget, I need your help to raise the money!
Would you consider giving 10 bucks to my project? Just think: if 550 people would all give 10 dollars, then we'd have all the money we need and nobody's bank would be broken (nope-- we have Wall Street to do that, right? ;). I know and understand that we are in an economic crisis-- giving is down in every possible area. Yet the needs remain. So I would humbly ask for your help-- if you are in the habit of buying 3.50$ mochas once a week, just think-- you could forgo the mochas for a month, and instead, give 14$ to Boulliwel! That's enough to buy a roll of wire cables!
Please consider this, but of course-- no pressure. I do not want to be in the business of guilt trips or self-righteous fund-raising schemes. It just seems like, if we could take a tiny fraction of the money and resources that we take for granted in the US and use them to help poor communities, we could make a huge difference in the world.
To donate, follow these simple steps:
1. Go to www.peacecorps.gov/contribute
2. Click "Donate to Volunteer Projects"
3. Scroll down to the "GUINEA" project titled "Completion of NGO Headquarters" by Volunteer "J. Haile." (yup, they put J when they meant A)
4. Click on this project.
5. In the white box on the right of the page, put in the dollar amount you'd like to donate. Follow instructions from there.
As of this morning, we still needed to raise 4036$. I'd love to have this raised by March, so if possible, tell your friends, tell your moms, tell your rich uncle Warren-- whoever. Let's just get the money raised and finish the building.
Thank you for everything, guys, and say hi to the snow for me.
Much love,
Andrew
P.S. If you are interested in seeing the 11-page proposal that I've written for the project, please email me and I'd be happy to send it to you. I would have sent it out with this email but it takes forever to send a document to 150 people. Thanks!
Bonjour a tous!
So I was in the United States for a little while. It's a magical place. They have Japanese Hibachi grills and football on TV. Plus less farm animals. I had a whirlwind couple of weeks-- trips to camp and college, skiing with Dad and cousins, Mom's chicken-and-broccoli casserole-- what's not to like? I even got to see Pascal Losambe. Twice.
Amazing place.
In the meantime, Guinea, this lovely crescent-shaped little country that I live in, had a bloodless coup d'etat after the president died due to illness.
Rumors had been flying for several weeks before the news was confirmed. I got to Conakry in late December in preparation for my trip home, and my taxi driver told me, with utter sincerity, that he was sure the President was dead. He said Conte's entourage just didn't want to let the news out until they had decided what to do next. I got to the Peace Corps office and the guards there all shook their heads scornfully-- "nah-- he's still holding on." I got into the Peace Corps house and one of the Volunteers there was sure the president was dead and the country was going to dissolve into anarchy. The next day our Peace Corps Director told me this was confirmedly false, and Conte was alive.
And so the rumors went, until the day I got home and was sitting at the dining room table playing Boggle with my little sister when my mom brought down a BBC article she had printed out. The headline read: Guineans face uncertain future: President Lansana Conte's death spells the end of years of misrule in Guinea.
"Welp," I thought, "that was timely. I guess that pretty much settles the rumors."
Guinea, a resource-rich country that still remains painfully under-developed, has suffered mightily since it's independence from France in 1958. It's first ruler, a socialist dictator named Sekou Toure, brought Guinea together through his passionate defiance of the French. He said famously, "Nous preferons la liberte dans la pauvrete que l'oppulence dans l'esclavage" = "We prefer freedom in poverty to prosperity in slavery." Despite this strong start to independence, Toure turned out to be a ruthless leader, closing the country to the West, murdering many of his political rivals, and refusing to give up power until his death in 1984, when, after a coup of his own, Lansana Conte swept to power with promises of liberalization, democracy, and a fresh start. These promises were only a mask for Conte's real intentions for wielding power: make himself and his entourage fabulously rich. People estimate that at the time of his death Conte was worth over a billion dollars. And this in a country where the majority of people live in mud huts on less than a dollar a day. Guinea is the world's second-largest exporter of bauxite-- the metal used to make aluminum-- yet none of this mineral wealth ever makes it to the petit Mamadous, or Average Joes, of the country.
Needless to say, people were happy with the change in regime. A young military captain, Moussa Dadis Camara, was chosen to head up the military junta that secured power following Conte's death. He has promised to root out corruption (good luck) and hold elections by 2010-- both admirable goals and what everyone wants to hear. People seem cautiously supportive, yet are skeptical-- with good reason. Conte came to power in '84 saying very similar-sounding things. Not long after, he realized just how much he stood to gain by stealing the country's money, and clung to power until he died. "We are praying for Guinea," everyone tells me here, and I join them gladly, knowing that it will need more than words to alter a system of governance that, like a giant tree rotting from the inside-out, is diseased by corruption at every level.
Changing the topic, for those of you who have read this far, I need your help! As I wrote in my last email, I have spent the last seven months working with the community of Boulliwel to put together a Peace Corps Partnership Project. With funds that I hope to raise through people like you, we are going to finish the construction of a community building in my village. It will house the local Boulliwel NGO APIB, or the "Association for the Promotion of Local Development Initiatives." They work with other national and international organizations building schools, housing for teachers, and health posts all throughout the Sub-Prefecture where I live.
Our goal is to raise around 5,500$ to give the NGO-- which does great work on behalf of the people of Boulliwel-- a beautiful home from which to conduct their development activities. I have told them that I would do my absolute best to get that money raised, and, after drafting the proposal and writing up the budget, I need your help to raise the money!
Would you consider giving 10 bucks to my project? Just think: if 550 people would all give 10 dollars, then we'd have all the money we need and nobody's bank would be broken (nope-- we have Wall Street to do that, right? ;). I know and understand that we are in an economic crisis-- giving is down in every possible area. Yet the needs remain. So I would humbly ask for your help-- if you are in the habit of buying 3.50$ mochas once a week, just think-- you could forgo the mochas for a month, and instead, give 14$ to Boulliwel! That's enough to buy a roll of wire cables!
Please consider this, but of course-- no pressure. I do not want to be in the business of guilt trips or self-righteous fund-raising schemes. It just seems like, if we could take a tiny fraction of the money and resources that we take for granted in the US and use them to help poor communities, we could make a huge difference in the world.
To donate, follow these simple steps:
1. Go to www.peacecorps.gov/contribute
2. Click "Donate to Volunteer Projects"
3. Scroll down to the "GUINEA" project titled "Completion of NGO Headquarters" by Volunteer "J. Haile." (yup, they put J when they meant A)
4. Click on this project.
5. In the white box on the right of the page, put in the dollar amount you'd like to donate. Follow instructions from there.
As of this morning, we still needed to raise 4036$. I'd love to have this raised by March, so if possible, tell your friends, tell your moms, tell your rich uncle Warren-- whoever. Let's just get the money raised and finish the building.
Thank you for everything, guys, and say hi to the snow for me.
Much love,
Andrew
P.S. If you are interested in seeing the 11-page proposal that I've written for the project, please email me and I'd be happy to send it to you. I would have sent it out with this email but it takes forever to send a document to 150 people. Thanks!
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Give to Guinea!
sent via e-mail by Andrew on 12/28/2008
Hello friends,
Joyeux Noel to everyone reading! My plane touched down in New York on Tuesday and I received my first long-anticipated greeting on U.S. soil:
"C'mon, people-- hurry up. Step up to the line. Next." The man behind the desk at customs looked harassed.
Tempted to greet the guy in Pular, I shuffle up to the counter and resort to a simple "how are you."
The man brushes off my pleasantries: "Vacation?" he mutters without looking up.
"Yes, sir!" I respond cheerfully. "I'm coming home for the first time in---"
"OK, keep moving," he cuts me off. "Next!" The customs man slaps my passport on the counter and waves me through.
"Ah, welcome home," I think. "Welcome home."
I've been home for several days now, getting beaten by my big brother at Risk and gorging myself on pasta salad. Oh, the US is sweet.
In other news, many of you have asked how you can help contribute in some way to the work that Peace Corps is doing in Guinea. So glad you asked!
Early in my service, a local community elder named ElHadj Mamoudou approached me and asked me to help him find funding to help the local Non-Governmental Organization he's a part of. Many people have approached me with all manner of requests for money or aid, and I usually tell them that the Peace Corps is not a "bailleur de fonds" (investor of money) and that I can't simply produce thousands of dollars with my porto magic. ElHadj Mamoudou, however, was not just any old person, and, knowing that the Peace Corps does give Volunteers the opportunity to undertake certain funded projects, I offered to listen to his proposal and work with him to see what I could do.
ElHadj Mamoudou is a kind old fellow whose eye-crinkles are well developed after years of grins and friendly handshakes. I had been touched by his friendliness with children and his willingness to freely house and provide for local schoolteachers, many of whom come from far away and teach on a barely-livable wage. He sat down with Dr. Diallo, my official counterpart, and me and explained what he had in mind for this project.
The local Boulliwel NGO, a municipal development organization called APIB, or "The Association for the Promotion of Local Development Initiatives," needed money to finish the construction of their headquarters, located in the center of the village. After years of productive partnership with an international American NGO (World Education Guinea), in which they had helped build several schools and health posts in surrounding communities, they had bought a parcel of land and begun construction of an office intended to be their permanent headquarters. This headquarters would have given the NGO a central location in which to have meetings, hold trainings and sensitizations, keep records, and receive interested partners. The construction of the building was not completed, however, due to insufficient funds, and thus today a foundation and some walls stand waiting for help to come so they can play their proper part in housing the office of APIB.
Enter the Peace Corps Volunteer! ElHadj, after getting to know me, asked if there were any way I could help the NGO to find some money to complete the office. I told him that I would do what I could, because of my appreciation of the work that the NGO does and because of my respect for him and other members of the NGO executive board, many of whom I know quite well. I met with the NGO and talked through the details of the project, and after discussing all the angles, determined to help in whatever way I could.
As I mentioned before, the Peace Corps is not an investor like the World Bank or the IMF, and doesn't have a wealth of funds to finance development projects like this one. However, Volunteers have the option of seeking funding for micro-projects through something called Peace Corps Partnership Program. PCPP allows Volunteers who see a need in their communities to draft a proposal and seek funding for these projects through family, friends, organizations, and personal connections. The community must contribute a minimum of 25% of the total budget and the Volunteer goes to his or her own personal contacts to raise the rest.
This was the option I took to help ElHadj Mamoudou and the Boulliwel NGO finish the construction of their office. I've met with the NGO six different times to discuss aspects of the project, write the budget, work on the community contribution, and adapt the proposal to fit PCPP guidelines. After months of revision, the project has been approved and sent to Peace Corps Headquarters in Washington to search for funding.
Enter you guys! Many of you have expressed interest in being more involved with serving the poor in Guinea, and here is a great opportunity. We need to raise approximately 5,500 dollars to complete the headquarters and give APIB a home from which to conduct their work. I am encouraged by the idea that if 550 people each decide to chip in 10 dollars, we will have raised all the money needed to really help the community of Boulliwel meet their needs for educated children and effective health care.
There is, by no means, any pressure whatsoever to donate money. I know that the economy is struggling and money is tight. Yet for those of you who are interested in giving, please go to https://mail.wra.net/exchweb/bin/redir.asp?URL=http://www.peacecorps.gov/contribute, click "Donate to Volunteer Projects," and find the Guinea project under the name "A.Haile." All donations are anonymous. The money, once raised, will be handled directly by me and two members of the NGO. The utmost care will be taken to ensure that the funds are used according to the detailed budget and project action plan. Thank you in advance for your concern and for supporting me and the community of Boulliwel.
In other news, there are a number of alternative ways besides giving to the PCPP project that you can contribute to the development and well-being of the people of Guinea. If anyone has the following items and is looking to find them a home where they will do some real good, please consider sending them my way while I'm home so I can take them back with me to Guinea:
-- old, outdated laptops (as long as they can use either word processing, or connect to the internet, or hey, even turn on, they can be found a home and be used as an income-generating activity in computer-starved Guinea)
-- used French books or French/English dictionaries of any level or any kind (children's books especially!)
-- old soccer balls
-- pens and notebooks
-- stuffed animals and other small children's toys
Guinea, as I've mentioned before, is a beautiful country that suffers from a heart-breaking lack of resources on every level. If you've got any of the above items just lying around, feel free to send them to me and I will find a responsible way to get them in the hands of people that really need them.
Thanks again for everything and have a great holiday!
Much love,
Andrew
Thanks so much!
Hello friends,
Joyeux Noel to everyone reading! My plane touched down in New York on Tuesday and I received my first long-anticipated greeting on U.S. soil:
"C'mon, people-- hurry up. Step up to the line. Next." The man behind the desk at customs looked harassed.
Tempted to greet the guy in Pular, I shuffle up to the counter and resort to a simple "how are you."
The man brushes off my pleasantries: "Vacation?" he mutters without looking up.
"Yes, sir!" I respond cheerfully. "I'm coming home for the first time in---"
"OK, keep moving," he cuts me off. "Next!" The customs man slaps my passport on the counter and waves me through.
"Ah, welcome home," I think. "Welcome home."
I've been home for several days now, getting beaten by my big brother at Risk and gorging myself on pasta salad. Oh, the US is sweet.
In other news, many of you have asked how you can help contribute in some way to the work that Peace Corps is doing in Guinea. So glad you asked!
Early in my service, a local community elder named ElHadj Mamoudou approached me and asked me to help him find funding to help the local Non-Governmental Organization he's a part of. Many people have approached me with all manner of requests for money or aid, and I usually tell them that the Peace Corps is not a "bailleur de fonds" (investor of money) and that I can't simply produce thousands of dollars with my porto magic. ElHadj Mamoudou, however, was not just any old person, and, knowing that the Peace Corps does give Volunteers the opportunity to undertake certain funded projects, I offered to listen to his proposal and work with him to see what I could do.
ElHadj Mamoudou is a kind old fellow whose eye-crinkles are well developed after years of grins and friendly handshakes. I had been touched by his friendliness with children and his willingness to freely house and provide for local schoolteachers, many of whom come from far away and teach on a barely-livable wage. He sat down with Dr. Diallo, my official counterpart, and me and explained what he had in mind for this project.
The local Boulliwel NGO, a municipal development organization called APIB, or "The Association for the Promotion of Local Development Initiatives," needed money to finish the construction of their headquarters, located in the center of the village. After years of productive partnership with an international American NGO (World Education Guinea), in which they had helped build several schools and health posts in surrounding communities, they had bought a parcel of land and begun construction of an office intended to be their permanent headquarters. This headquarters would have given the NGO a central location in which to have meetings, hold trainings and sensitizations, keep records, and receive interested partners. The construction of the building was not completed, however, due to insufficient funds, and thus today a foundation and some walls stand waiting for help to come so they can play their proper part in housing the office of APIB.
Enter the Peace Corps Volunteer! ElHadj, after getting to know me, asked if there were any way I could help the NGO to find some money to complete the office. I told him that I would do what I could, because of my appreciation of the work that the NGO does and because of my respect for him and other members of the NGO executive board, many of whom I know quite well. I met with the NGO and talked through the details of the project, and after discussing all the angles, determined to help in whatever way I could.
As I mentioned before, the Peace Corps is not an investor like the World Bank or the IMF, and doesn't have a wealth of funds to finance development projects like this one. However, Volunteers have the option of seeking funding for micro-projects through something called Peace Corps Partnership Program. PCPP allows Volunteers who see a need in their communities to draft a proposal and seek funding for these projects through family, friends, organizations, and personal connections. The community must contribute a minimum of 25% of the total budget and the Volunteer goes to his or her own personal contacts to raise the rest.
This was the option I took to help ElHadj Mamoudou and the Boulliwel NGO finish the construction of their office. I've met with the NGO six different times to discuss aspects of the project, write the budget, work on the community contribution, and adapt the proposal to fit PCPP guidelines. After months of revision, the project has been approved and sent to Peace Corps Headquarters in Washington to search for funding.
Enter you guys! Many of you have expressed interest in being more involved with serving the poor in Guinea, and here is a great opportunity. We need to raise approximately 5,500 dollars to complete the headquarters and give APIB a home from which to conduct their work. I am encouraged by the idea that if 550 people each decide to chip in 10 dollars, we will have raised all the money needed to really help the community of Boulliwel meet their needs for educated children and effective health care.
There is, by no means, any pressure whatsoever to donate money. I know that the economy is struggling and money is tight. Yet for those of you who are interested in giving, please go to https://mail.wra.net/exchweb/bin/redir.asp?URL=http://www.peacecorps.gov/contribute, click "Donate to Volunteer Projects," and find the Guinea project under the name "A.Haile." All donations are anonymous. The money, once raised, will be handled directly by me and two members of the NGO. The utmost care will be taken to ensure that the funds are used according to the detailed budget and project action plan. Thank you in advance for your concern and for supporting me and the community of Boulliwel.
In other news, there are a number of alternative ways besides giving to the PCPP project that you can contribute to the development and well-being of the people of Guinea. If anyone has the following items and is looking to find them a home where they will do some real good, please consider sending them my way while I'm home so I can take them back with me to Guinea:
-- old, outdated laptops (as long as they can use either word processing, or connect to the internet, or hey, even turn on, they can be found a home and be used as an income-generating activity in computer-starved Guinea)
-- used French books or French/English dictionaries of any level or any kind (children's books especially!)
-- old soccer balls
-- pens and notebooks
-- stuffed animals and other small children's toys
Guinea, as I've mentioned before, is a beautiful country that suffers from a heart-breaking lack of resources on every level. If you've got any of the above items just lying around, feel free to send them to me and I will find a responsible way to get them in the hands of people that really need them.
Thanks again for everything and have a great holiday!
Much love,
Andrew
Thanks so much!
Friday, November 28, 2008
Political buzz and a prayer for Obama
sent via e-mail 11-27-08
Hello everyone,
For those of you back in the chilly USA, I'm sure the country is buzzing with the anticipation of a change of president and political administration. Classrooms and coffeeshops are no doubt full of dialogue and debate; people are ready for change and everyone seems eager to weigh in on what our new President-Elect ought to do first.
Let me assure you: We Americans are not the only ones excited and ready for change.
Here in Guinea, Barack Obama has achieved, in a matter of mere months, mythical, almost deified status. In rice bars and buvettes, salon de coiffures and taxi cabseverywhere I go people only want to talk about one thing: Obama, Obama, Obama. Some enterprising Guinean has started printing laminated "ID cards" with a picture of Obama and the White House on it. The card reads:
"M. Barack Obama. The First Black Prsident in the Maison Blanche."
Somebody's gotta tell that guy to pick a language and stick with it. Still, our bilingual entrepreneur has hit it big: Everyone, from high school students to local butchers to ladies selling onions in the marketplace, seems to have an Obama card clipped to their shirt or pants. Local politicians have even started promoting their own campaigns with messages like:
"Barack Obama and Idrissa Diallo: Both young. Both leaders. Both with the same goal: change."
I hope Mr. Obama knows he's got a kindred spirit way over here in Guinea ;). You bring that change, Idrissa.
The day after the elections, I sat down and spilled some thoughts into my journal, reflecting on the history that had been made in my country and the ripple effect this history-making would have on places like Guinea.
Let me share these thoughtsuneditedwith you now:
11/6/08 Salon de la maison
Wellit's official: Barack Obama is the President-Elect of the United States! Unbelievable. On Tuesday at about 16h30 I grabbed my bike and rode up to Dalaba to join Katy, John, Marg (other PCVs), and the Campbells (the missionary couple) to watch the returns together at Katy's host family's house.
We chatted and dozed and ate popcorn, watching Wolf Blitzer and the gang make their "CNN Projections" and analyze exit polls (ah, the beauty of satellite TV ;). By 3am here it was clear Obama was going to win, having taken Pennsylvania and Ohio, but we wanted to wait to watch the various speeches, which we did. McCain's speech was classy and gracious, which really impressed me, and Obama's was good as well, although there weren't any history-making lines.
Manwhat a moment for America and the world! A black man as president of the US. Incredible. I got back from Dalaba yesterday morning and greeted the folks hanging out at M. Diallo's, and we all shook hands and cheered and Mme Diallo showed off the Obama bracelet I gave her. Everywhere I go in the village people are buzzing, talking about Obama and the changements he's going to bring to the world. M.Sow: "Maintenant Obama va arranger le probleme de visa, n'est-ce pas?" Now Obama's gonna fix the visa problem, right? (read: visas for everyone! Especially Guineans like me!)
Sitting on the Diallo's porch last night chatting about all this, Elhadj Khalil made an interesting point: if things aren't going well in the US, they aren't going well in the world; if things go well in the US, it's like a door is opened to allow the world to function better. I'm inclined to agreeand I'm also excited to respond to the next person who calls the US layli portoland of white peopleby saying president amen ko o baleejoour president is black! What an amazing thing.
Despite the excitement, of course, I am sobered by the huge problems in the world right now and the reality that Jesus, not the American government, is the force that can really bring lasting, true change in the world.
I pray for Obama and the people around him, for his new cabinet, the new Senate, all the changes taking place at the highest levels of government. Lord, I pray that you would use these authorities and powerswho have their power because you have let them have it to bring relief and aid to the suffering people of the world, to help the poorest of the poor, to bring peace in the war-torn regions of the world, especially Iraq and Afghanistan, to bring an end to US-sponsored torture, to bring concrete, visionary legislation on climate change and solid steps forward in changing the way we Americans think about resources and our hallowed consumerist "way of life."
I know that your Kingdom does not work like the Kingdoms of the world, least of all like the "American Empire" which dominates right now. Yet, Lord, good can come out of government, and presidents, and policies, and I pray, for the sake of rich and poor, black and white, American and Iraqi and Guinean and Chinese, that the folks in those high-level positions would truly seek you and seek to have America bless you, and not necessarily the other way around.
In the meantime, here I am in Boulliwel, eating rice, shaking lots of hands, trying to spread love and kindness and relevant health teaching. I wonder what kind of an impact a new president would have on a place like Boulliwel, if any, and I'll be interested to see if, between now and Feb. 2010, the new administration makes any realistic, concrete changes to the Peace Corps.
Whether or not it does, I want to continue seeking you, Jesusto honor you with my service here in Boulliwel and open my heart, mind, and body to you to be used by you. This is the greatest privilege in the world that I could possibly think of. Live through me today as I hang out with kids, finish my analysis of my health survey, and chat with the folks in the community.
Amen.
Well, guys thanks for reading, once again, if you've got this far. No matter who you voted for or where you stand on the political spectrum, I encourage you to join me in praying for our leaders and the world during this time.
Once again, I'm coming home for Christmas, from 12/23-1/14. My folks have moved to north of Boston so I'll be with them for most of the time. I'm planning on taking a quick trip up to Middlebury and maybe a trip to the Brookwoods Winter Reunion, so I'd love to see any and all folks who are around!
In the meantime,
Much love,
Andrew
P.S. Happy Thanksgiving! They sent us a turkey way up here in Labecan't wait to mange! ;)
For those of you back in the chilly USA, I'm sure the country is buzzing with the anticipation of a change of president and political administration. Classrooms and coffeeshops are no doubt full of dialogue and debate; people are ready for change and everyone seems eager to weigh in on what our new President-Elect ought to do first.
Let me assure you: We Americans are not the only ones excited and ready for change.
Here in Guinea, Barack Obama has achieved, in a matter of mere months, mythical, almost deified status. In rice bars and buvettes, salon de coiffures and taxi cabseverywhere I go people only want to talk about one thing: Obama, Obama, Obama. Some enterprising Guinean has started printing laminated "ID cards" with a picture of Obama and the White House on it. The card reads:
"M. Barack Obama. The First Black Prsident in the Maison Blanche."
Somebody's gotta tell that guy to pick a language and stick with it. Still, our bilingual entrepreneur has hit it big: Everyone, from high school students to local butchers to ladies selling onions in the marketplace, seems to have an Obama card clipped to their shirt or pants. Local politicians have even started promoting their own campaigns with messages like:
"Barack Obama and Idrissa Diallo: Both young. Both leaders. Both with the same goal: change."
I hope Mr. Obama knows he's got a kindred spirit way over here in Guinea ;). You bring that change, Idrissa.
The day after the elections, I sat down and spilled some thoughts into my journal, reflecting on the history that had been made in my country and the ripple effect this history-making would have on places like Guinea.
Let me share these thoughtsuneditedwith you now:
11/6/08 Salon de la maison
Wellit's official: Barack Obama is the President-Elect of the United States! Unbelievable. On Tuesday at about 16h30 I grabbed my bike and rode up to Dalaba to join Katy, John, Marg (other PCVs), and the Campbells (the missionary couple) to watch the returns together at Katy's host family's house.
We chatted and dozed and ate popcorn, watching Wolf Blitzer and the gang make their "CNN Projections" and analyze exit polls (ah, the beauty of satellite TV ;). By 3am here it was clear Obama was going to win, having taken Pennsylvania and Ohio, but we wanted to wait to watch the various speeches, which we did. McCain's speech was classy and gracious, which really impressed me, and Obama's was good as well, although there weren't any history-making lines.
Manwhat a moment for America and the world! A black man as president of the US. Incredible. I got back from Dalaba yesterday morning and greeted the folks hanging out at M. Diallo's, and we all shook hands and cheered and Mme Diallo showed off the Obama bracelet I gave her. Everywhere I go in the village people are buzzing, talking about Obama and the changements he's going to bring to the world. M.Sow: "Maintenant Obama va arranger le probleme de visa, n'est-ce pas?" Now Obama's gonna fix the visa problem, right? (read: visas for everyone! Especially Guineans like me!)
Sitting on the Diallo's porch last night chatting about all this, Elhadj Khalil made an interesting point: if things aren't going well in the US, they aren't going well in the world; if things go well in the US, it's like a door is opened to allow the world to function better. I'm inclined to agreeand I'm also excited to respond to the next person who calls the US layli portoland of white peopleby saying president amen ko o baleejoour president is black! What an amazing thing.
Despite the excitement, of course, I am sobered by the huge problems in the world right now and the reality that Jesus, not the American government, is the force that can really bring lasting, true change in the world.
I pray for Obama and the people around him, for his new cabinet, the new Senate, all the changes taking place at the highest levels of government. Lord, I pray that you would use these authorities and powerswho have their power because you have let them have it to bring relief and aid to the suffering people of the world, to help the poorest of the poor, to bring peace in the war-torn regions of the world, especially Iraq and Afghanistan, to bring an end to US-sponsored torture, to bring concrete, visionary legislation on climate change and solid steps forward in changing the way we Americans think about resources and our hallowed consumerist "way of life."
I know that your Kingdom does not work like the Kingdoms of the world, least of all like the "American Empire" which dominates right now. Yet, Lord, good can come out of government, and presidents, and policies, and I pray, for the sake of rich and poor, black and white, American and Iraqi and Guinean and Chinese, that the folks in those high-level positions would truly seek you and seek to have America bless you, and not necessarily the other way around.
In the meantime, here I am in Boulliwel, eating rice, shaking lots of hands, trying to spread love and kindness and relevant health teaching. I wonder what kind of an impact a new president would have on a place like Boulliwel, if any, and I'll be interested to see if, between now and Feb. 2010, the new administration makes any realistic, concrete changes to the Peace Corps.
Whether or not it does, I want to continue seeking you, Jesusto honor you with my service here in Boulliwel and open my heart, mind, and body to you to be used by you. This is the greatest privilege in the world that I could possibly think of. Live through me today as I hang out with kids, finish my analysis of my health survey, and chat with the folks in the community.
Amen.
Well, guys thanks for reading, once again, if you've got this far. No matter who you voted for or where you stand on the political spectrum, I encourage you to join me in praying for our leaders and the world during this time.
Once again, I'm coming home for Christmas, from 12/23-1/14. My folks have moved to north of Boston so I'll be with them for most of the time. I'm planning on taking a quick trip up to Middlebury and maybe a trip to the Brookwoods Winter Reunion, so I'd love to see any and all folks who are around!
In the meantime,
Much love,
Andrew
P.S. Happy Thanksgiving! They sent us a turkey way up here in Labecan't wait to mange! ;)
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