i kena,

That was good morning in Susu. My current vocabulary can also handle salutations, basic questions about work and living arragements, and how to ask whether or not a woman is married. Which, translated, means 'have you ever sat in the house of a man?'. However, if my conversation partner deviates from the script by one word, i am doneski. Today is our last day in the PC compound. TOmorrow we load up and drive south 45 k to Forecariah for the rest of our training. More importantly, tomorrow we get 'adopted' by our host famlies with whom we will live for the next three months. Oh boy. We have had a lot of cross-cultural training sessions to prepare us for the host-family expereince, but according to the other volunteers it is a trying, if essential understaking. All the host famlies must meet certain requirements and go through specific training in how to handle whack americans. These are the requirements as laid down by the Guinean host-family training staff; logistically, the host famlies must feed us breakfast and dinner everyday and there meals a day on the weekends, they must give us our own room with a door that locks, they must make a special meal (something other than rice and sauce) 2x a week, feed us meat 2x a week, and eggs 3x a week. Socially, they undergo some pretty intense training. This includes how to preapre some American food (spaghetti......on top of rice and sauce), how to use potable water for cooking and cleaning, how Americans like to be comforted, and some of the whacky things that Americans do that the host family should ignore or just laugh about behind closed doors. For example-- alone time. They don't get it. In Guinean culture everyoe hangs out toghether all day every day. If someone is stressed or depressed, than all the more reason for toghetherness. The trainers say that a common host family expereince includes a stressed and frustrated volunteer retiring to his/her room to decompress, not speak susu, or continually entertain a army of Guinean children, and the host mom recognizing the volunteers stress level. In order to cheer up her host son/daughter, the host mom organises and band of local children /family members and charges into the volunteers room to comfort them. This of course usally leads to the volunteer breaking down and balling on the spot and the host mother calling the PC trainer to say that Americans are crazy and she thinks she offended her volunteer.

Monsiuer Bari, one of my favorite trainers, is responsible for our cross-culture sessions. He is a forceful looking older Guinean man who seems to command serious respect from the other trainers. As a youngster, he got a scholarship to Study in Britain and stayed in a home-stay for several months. He remembers coming up to the front door and ringing the door bell, waiting for a few minutes, and then being greeted by the nuclear family. To him-- this was bizzare/impolite/quiet/scary. In Guinea, visitors are greeted by the community. Neighbors and extrended family members are always on hand to welcome visitors and each person tries to talk over the next.

On that note, I have to say a few things about our Guinean trainers. They are the best. In the beginning, a combination of the language barrier and ingrained strereotypes about Africa (the trainers and trainees are encouraged to speak only in French of a local lang) kept me from realizing what an extraordinary group of people work for the Peace Corps. Amoung the Guineans who we work with, two studied in the U.S. on Fullbrights, almost all the senior trainers have undergrad degrees from good African Universities and Masters degrees from the U.S., and one or two have PHD's. At first, when surrounded by people from another culture it is difficult to notice anything about them except that they are from that culture. After that newness wore off it was easy to see that our training staff is highly intelligent and motivated, and has likely overcome serious hurdles to get where they are.

Umm, thats all I have time for at the moment, but be preapred for hilarity when I let you know how adoption goes. Mom and Dad, don't worry, there merely surrogates.

l