Saturday, January 24, 2009

they who gather flowers






Jon and I are back in Conakry. Today we went to one of the nicest resturaunts in the city, the Domiere, where we feasted to our heart's content on all sorts of fine cuilinary delights. After 6 months (!) here in guinee eating mostly rice and sauces of different types and qualities, or soups of the middling vegetables that we can find at site, we decided that it was time for a treat. We went with all the G-16ers from the basse cote region and we ate until we were all about to burst...and were oh so happy about it. Needless to say, for the rest of the day we were not all that mobil but very very content.
Tomorrow we head out to the region of Guinee called the Fouta to a city called Mamou to go to our IST conference where we get to learn about how to begin secondary projects. Jon and I are very excited to begin working on secondary projects as soon as possible. Teaching at a school that doesn't always work the way that one might expect can be a tad frustrating so we are looking forward to having other outlets to inspire change and development in the community. We recently took some first steps in trying to get some projects up and running with S.N.A.P.E, a water resource NGO, and The Jane Goodhall Institute.

Jon and I have had some pretty amazing adventures since the Christmas coup so there are quite a few stories that we would like to share:

Right after christmas, we had made plans to go hike this mountain nearby where we had been told that there lived a troup of chimpanzees. We had been approached a few months ago by a man named Mr. Bangoura to help him to teach hunters and others in the community the importance of protecting the chimps and their habitat. He offered to take us and we quickly agreed. We left early on our bikes for the one hour ride to the village of Djaboui. We left just as the sun was coming up over the house and burning off the morning fog. Biking out was beautiful as the road follows the mountain range. The secondary path the leads up the the village is a really fun little biking trail that Jon and I had actually found by accident one time before. On the way we pass through another small village where we are greeted by many people. Since we were out to search for animals, a family nearby brought over a tiny baby monkey that they had been keeping for a pet. It was so tiny, scared, and cold, that I just wanted to take it home with me. But it quickly reinforced the need for community education about the importance of conservation and protection of wild animals. When we finally reached Djaboui, Jon and I found that the village was actually comprised of three huts belonging to the Soumah family. Mr. Soumah is the head of the association of hunters that have been working with Mr. Bangoura and who are interested in spreading the word about ending the overexploitation of resources and protecting the chimpanzee population. Djaboui translates as "under the mountain"and that it certainly is. The family was incredibly welcoming, almost overwhelmingly so. We were given kola nuts, a very important cultural sign of respect and we were invited to eat a meal together with them after the hike.





We ascended the mountain along with a group of hunters all tooting very ancient-looking rifles that certainly did not look fire-able. The guns seems to be held together with electrical tape and rubber bands and look as if the would explode if anyone tried to fire them. But the hunters knew the mountian like the back of their hands and led us to a stream called the "Chimpanzee River". Although now it is more of a trickle, one could see that during the rainy season, it was quite the raging torrent. We were able to find some beautiful spots and we even found some nests up in the trees where the chimps sleep. (see below) But unfortunately we did not see any real chimpanzees. We did however find a very lovely water fall. We hope to go out there again sometime this month, possible overnight to get the chance to really see some chimps.


At the end of the hike we returned, weary and only a bit worse for wear(...much of the hike was through real jungle so we had our share or scrapes and bruises) to a delicous meal of rice and sauce. We passed a lovely hour or so spending time and taking pictures with the family. Before we left, they gifted us a rooster which then accompanied us to Moussayah on the back of my bicycle



About 2 weeks later, Mr Bangoura invited us again to a ceremony to be held with a group of hunters in another neighboring village. Jon and I had some reservations as sometimes these things can be a big unorganized and awkward since we don't understand the language or the culture fully. But our host "mom and dad" , the Sousprefet and his wife were invited too so we decided to take a chance. When we finished rumbling along the very bumpy road and arrived at the village we were immediately glad that we did go. Apparently, the mother of one of the local hunters had died and it is an old custum that all of the hunters will come down from the mountians,fields and forest, lay down their gun, and spend the whole night singing and dancing with their friends and family to celebrate the life of the deceased. When we arrived, the entire community was gathered around singing to the music of the kora (a string instrument made of a tall stick and a big round gord). The hunters were dancing in the circle. We were the guests of honor and were again presented with kola nuts and a delicious meal of freshly hunted game in a spicy sauce. The griot sang songs and the hunters continued dancing sometimes with their guns and sometimes without and sometimes acting out scenes of the stalking of their prey...complete with somone playing the part of a deer. Also, a bit disturbingly, they would suddenly life their guns and shoot them up into the air, each time giving us a shock.

For all of our worry about going and frustration of the unknown, by the end of our evening there, we truly did not want to leave. I hope that this is a lesson and reminder to us to continue to embrace these very unique experiences and not to let the fear of the unknown daunt us. Unfortunately I do not have any pictures from this evening as it was too dark and possibly a bit too important of an occasion for the imposition of flashbulbs. But certainly it was a memory that we will both hold very dear.

Jon and I have bought a goat.We named her Sierra and we are having a great time with her. She is very funny and very attached to us. Each time we leave her she is very sad and cries. Our chicken Mia also had 4 chicks. We have named the two white ones Castor and Pollock, the dark one is Sweede, and the brown is Stewie. The eat rice out of our hands and are very fun to watch. When you can't watch TV, you might as well have your own live sitcom on your frount porch!





Last but most certainly not least, I wanted to explain the title of the entry. Africa is a place where children play with flowers and scraps of cloth, sardine cans and old bike tires. About a month ago, my host brother Alashane came up to me to show me a tin can lid on a string that he was twirling like those old games kids would play with button before dora the explorer, video games, and tonka truks. He came back a moment later with a big red blossom that he had attached to the string and it opened and closed marvelously with the inertia. I quickly discovered that the tree that produced the flowers was actually on our hill though I had never noticed the flowers before.

This time of year in Guinee is a time of very powerful winds and distintly lower temperatures. (I'm sure everyone at home with the frigid snows would laugh but it can get pretty chilly here in the evenings and early mornings.)The night's strong winds knock down the flowers and each and every morning, as soon as the sun has risen and burned off the fog in the valleys, they come. Little children with bare feet and dirty knees come racing up the hill, jubilently pick up all the flowers they can carry, gather them in their shirts and skirts, and laughing, they descend again with their treasure, content with the day of playing that they have ahead of them.




We take off tomorrow and most likely will not have internet again for about a month or so. But hopefully we will have more fun adventures to share with you then...

a la prochaine..
Be Well,
Kurasi tango...
Era famah (We love you!)
~Kim and Jon

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