On Est Ensemble
I have a sad story to share.
There was a massacre on September 28 in Conakry in which the military (which is basically the acting government since last years coup) opened fire at the stadium killing 150+ people and violating women in the streets. The gathering of people was meant to be a peaceful protest of President Dadis's refusal to abide by his claim to help facilitate elections and not run as a candidate himself. I wont keep going, but if you want to know more, this story has been covered thoroughly by the BBC, among other journals, so you can read up online.The US embassy evacuated all non-essential personnel, and Peace Corps was forced to evacuate to Bamako, Mali a week or so after the violence. The US State Department was the driving force behind Peace Corps Washington's decision to evacuate. None of the volunteers felt unsafe or in any danger, as the violence was limited to Conakry and Americans were not targets.
After two weeks, the decision was made to officially suspend Peace Corps Guinea. On Tuesday we began the transfer conference. Everyone has been given the option to close their service. I have decided not to transfer directly but to reenroll and start over.
It is difficult to explain what this feels like. Everyone is grieving over Guinea. We all feel cheated in some way. I was so ready to move to my site, to settle in, start teaching, be a real volunteer. I never got to be installed.
During the evacuation, driving in the SUV along the road to Kankan, we picked up volunteers. I watched as G15ers said goodbye to their villages. I saw their goodbyes, relationships that I never had a chance to make. Now after getting to know every Guinea volunteer, I've heard so many stories, so many great experiences. I'm jealous of the time they spent in Guinea. I was supposed to have those experiences too. I was going to make my own stories.
We had a goodbye dinner two nights ago. The food was delicious and everyone made speeches. Ousmane said “Guinea needs you now more than ever.” Those people that we left behind, they don’t know why we aren’t there. They have never known democracy. They don’t know what they are entitled to.
Guinea is the poorest country I’ve ever seen. Sitting around a candle at night, I’d wonder, what year electricity was invented. How are people living like this? Sharing one bowl of rice and sauce for dinner, eating with their hands. Collecting water off the roof when it rains to bathe. The roads are worse than rally car race tracks. Every car that you see is jammed with people, 7 inside, 2 or 3 hanging on the back and at least one sitting on huge sacks of rice on the roof. Not to mention the chickens.
There is no place for garbage. When you’ve got to go, you find a latrine, or a hidden place to squat. Guineans don’t know what cheese is. No airplanes fly over your head because no one is coming or going. The military build barrages and hassle you for money when you try to drive through. University students don’t know how to use a computer. Almost every woman you will come across has suffered from genital mutilation. People get gunned down and the bodies disappear.
You know, if you are lost, a Guinean will walk you to where you need to go even if it takes an hour. If you walk by a stranger eating they will invite you to sit and share their food. Children make toy cars out of recycled garbage and pull them around on strings. Everyone always says hello, no matter what. They ask how I am. They ask how my family is.
Guinea needs Peace Corps. Guinea needs education. On est ensemble. We are together.
By this time next week I will be remembering how wonderful America is. America is a beautiful place. I’m not ready to leave Guinea. I’m not ready to leave West Africa. I need to go home because I need to take a break. I don’t have any energy right now. I’ll reenroll in the Peace Corps soon. I’ll be given another country, another group of friends, another site where I will be the best volunteer that I am.
Guinea, I’m sorry.
My close of service is set for Sunday October 25.
There was a massacre on September 28 in Conakry in which the military (which is basically the acting government since last years coup) opened fire at the stadium killing 150+ people and violating women in the streets. The gathering of people was meant to be a peaceful protest of President Dadis's refusal to abide by his claim to help facilitate elections and not run as a candidate himself. I wont keep going, but if you want to know more, this story has been covered thoroughly by the BBC, among other journals, so you can read up online.The US embassy evacuated all non-essential personnel, and Peace Corps was forced to evacuate to Bamako, Mali a week or so after the violence. The US State Department was the driving force behind Peace Corps Washington's decision to evacuate. None of the volunteers felt unsafe or in any danger, as the violence was limited to Conakry and Americans were not targets.
After two weeks, the decision was made to officially suspend Peace Corps Guinea. On Tuesday we began the transfer conference. Everyone has been given the option to close their service. I have decided not to transfer directly but to reenroll and start over.
It is difficult to explain what this feels like. Everyone is grieving over Guinea. We all feel cheated in some way. I was so ready to move to my site, to settle in, start teaching, be a real volunteer. I never got to be installed.
During the evacuation, driving in the SUV along the road to Kankan, we picked up volunteers. I watched as G15ers said goodbye to their villages. I saw their goodbyes, relationships that I never had a chance to make. Now after getting to know every Guinea volunteer, I've heard so many stories, so many great experiences. I'm jealous of the time they spent in Guinea. I was supposed to have those experiences too. I was going to make my own stories.
We had a goodbye dinner two nights ago. The food was delicious and everyone made speeches. Ousmane said “Guinea needs you now more than ever.” Those people that we left behind, they don’t know why we aren’t there. They have never known democracy. They don’t know what they are entitled to.
Guinea is the poorest country I’ve ever seen. Sitting around a candle at night, I’d wonder, what year electricity was invented. How are people living like this? Sharing one bowl of rice and sauce for dinner, eating with their hands. Collecting water off the roof when it rains to bathe. The roads are worse than rally car race tracks. Every car that you see is jammed with people, 7 inside, 2 or 3 hanging on the back and at least one sitting on huge sacks of rice on the roof. Not to mention the chickens.
There is no place for garbage. When you’ve got to go, you find a latrine, or a hidden place to squat. Guineans don’t know what cheese is. No airplanes fly over your head because no one is coming or going. The military build barrages and hassle you for money when you try to drive through. University students don’t know how to use a computer. Almost every woman you will come across has suffered from genital mutilation. People get gunned down and the bodies disappear.
You know, if you are lost, a Guinean will walk you to where you need to go even if it takes an hour. If you walk by a stranger eating they will invite you to sit and share their food. Children make toy cars out of recycled garbage and pull them around on strings. Everyone always says hello, no matter what. They ask how I am. They ask how my family is.
Guinea needs Peace Corps. Guinea needs education. On est ensemble. We are together.
By this time next week I will be remembering how wonderful America is. America is a beautiful place. I’m not ready to leave Guinea. I’m not ready to leave West Africa. I need to go home because I need to take a break. I don’t have any energy right now. I’ll reenroll in the Peace Corps soon. I’ll be given another country, another group of friends, another site where I will be the best volunteer that I am.
Guinea, I’m sorry.
My close of service is set for Sunday October 25.
posted by emily at 11:49 AM
1 Comments:
Hey Em! Thanks for blogging, I hope it's not too creepy that I am now a "follower" of your blog. That's not the term I would have chosen, but ah, I am glad to be able to keep an ear out for your experiences. These entries are incredible, and I really appreciate that you make the time to post them. It doesn't sound like that's necessarily an easy--technologically, environmentally, or emotionally--thing to accomplish. But thank you for the exposure you offer to those of us who might never see these places, and the decency and sincerity with which you present your experiences. Much appreciated, and I hope to read a new entry again soon. Were you to teach lycee en francais? Also, I would just like to point out that I took your profile pic in the Bordeaux train station. Very nice. Miss you, big hugs
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