Well, right now I'm in Conakry, the capital of Guinea, in rather luxurious circumstances: Using a computer with internet access, in an air-conditioned office, through the windows of which I see before me coconut palms and mango trees trailing down the hillside to the ocean. Yes, OCEAN! This is already a very different Peace Corps experience than my years in Niger.
Soon I'll be headed inland, though, to my new posting in Sebhory (also spelled Sebouri). What do I know about Sebhory? Not much. There is a man named Dioumma Fleur there who is waiting to meet me-- he'll be my homologue, or counterpart-- odd Peace Corps words that try to encompass the range of roles these people fill: professional partners or supervisors, cultural ambassadors, friends, sometimes adoptive family, and in general, point-person for the entire community's questions about what the American is up to. What else about Sebhory? It's in the mountains-- not Washington State mountains, where it doesn't count if there's no snow on top in August, but Guinea mountains, where the heavy tropical air of the coast cools as it rises up steep green hillsides, across waterfalls, rocky massifs, and finally ends up drizzling misty rains over pine forests and potato fields. Where I'm headed is the "Switzerland of West Africa," known for chilly nights and strawberry patches (Alas, not known for ski slopes or pastries).
But before I can run away to the hills, Peace Corps has a few things to teach me: I've just finished one week of language training (On jaraama to all the Pular people of the world!) mixed with sessions on Guinean culture, agriculture, and food systems. Now I have a few more days here in the city to work on language and learn more about vegetable marketing... oh yes, and while I'm here, I'd like to get my cellphone working, get a bank account, an ID card, and figure out how to send mail. Thank goodness for Peace Corps! The staff here are setting up all those things and more for us new volunteers (there are four of us PC Response volunteers training together), and helping us out with any questions we have left over. And thank goodness for fellow volunteers! Those who have happened to be in town have been quite generous about answering all my random questions, like: how many people ride in a city taxi? Is it socially acceptable to hang my laundry up to dry in this spot? What IS a fataya? What should I bring if I'm invited to a baby-naming ceremony? and Will I get tumbu worms? (The answers are: one in the front seat and four in the back seat, yes, like a calzone but with french fries and mayonaisse inside, a couple thousand francs guinee, and probably not.)
