End of Summer School
The
Thursday before we had closing ceremonies for summer school during which the
best performing students were rewarded with school supplies and the students
performed skits. My host brother performed the best in his class and received
his reward. I was so proud. My friends who taught him would always tell me how
well he did on his tests. Considering a 50% is passing in Burkina and he gets
19s and 20s out of 20 on exams, everyone was really impressed.
Mass of the Assumption of Mary
On my way out the
door to the summer school closing ceremonies, my host mom had given me pagne
(pronounced pawn-ya), or fabric, for the Assumption of Mary celebration the
next day. She doesn't give me gifts very often, so it was super sweet! She told
me I could take it to the tailor and then wear it the next day to the Catholic
mass. Take it to the tailor? Today? For tomorrow? Challenge accepted. Sure
enough, the tailor's daughter was more than happy to make something simple for
me with a Catholic pagne because her family is Catholic, too. I had them make
what we call here "mini bou bou," which is a smaller version of the
long traditional dress shirts that the men wear here. I picked it up Thursday
evening and was all set for the next day!
The mass started at
8:30am on top of a hill, nowhere near the church. My friends Meghan and Wes met
me at my house and then we biked the 20+ minute journey uphill with my host
brother to the ceremony. My host dad, who isn't Catholic, took my host mom by moto.
She yelled at my host brother to slow down and let us take breaks as she and my
host dad whipped by on moto. It was hilarious. Well, I certainly appreciate
that she went by moto and got there early because by the time we'd made it up
the hill to the site of the ceremony, my host mom already had our seats all
setup. When I say seats, I mean 6-inch tall cinder blocks with a pagne draped
over to keep our outfits clean from dirt/moss. But, it was better than sitting
on the ground like majority of the congregation! Also, she got there early
enough to reserve our seats in the shade. Thank goodness for that because we'd
be sitting on those cinder blocks for 3+ hours!
The mass started
like most of the masses I've been to. The main difference is that there was a
statue of Mary near the altar and women carried her in at the beginning of the
mass. Well, each reading was given in three languages: French (official
language of Burkina), Mooré (widely spoken local language of Burkina) and Nuni
(local language of Léo). There are three readings, plus a homily given by the
priest. Can you imagine why the mass was 3 hours now? Once in a while, my
friend Meghan and I would look at each other during the Mooré sections as we
put together words and phrases we knew.
During a normal
mass, chosen bring the bread and wine to the altar to be blessed. Since this
was the Feast Day of the Assumption of Mary, additional gifts were brought to
the front as an offering: fruits, vegetables and grains were among the gifts.
My host mom, since she's one of the godmothers of the church, got to bring up
one of the baskets! That was one of those moments of the mass where I didn't
care how much everyone around me would judge me; I took out my camera and took
pictures and video! I could tell she was nervous. Also, these baskets were
large and very full. The first woman had difficulty smoothly removing the
basket from atop her head and handing it to the priest. My host mom executed
her handoff quite gracefully. I was so proud. I had no idea that she was going
to be involved in the ceremony!
After receiving the
bread and wine, official people of the church usually come up to give
announcements and closing remarks. Well, yes of course these were also given in
at least two languages. One lady gave
her speech in 4 languages! On the beginning of the fourth language, my host
brother grunted and buried his head in his knees. I thought that was hilarious.
I was lucky if I understood the French speech, but the other three were all
local languages! When the priest came up, he thanked the European visitors for
coming and then pointed to us. We all laughed as everyone turned and stared.
"You're European, yes?" We smiled and Wes blurted
"Américains!" The priest smiled and responded, "Américains? (In
English) How are you?" It was hilarious everyone was cracking up. Whenever
English gets thrown into conversation after French or local language, it's
surprising and funny.
Once the remarks
were finished, the women picked up the statue of Mary and paraded her around
the congregation again. This time there was more music and singing and the
women carrying her lifted her up and down and up and down and side to side. It
looked as though Mary was dancing through a sea of people. It was pretty
awesome. I got some amazing video and look forward to being able to share it.
Feast
Once the ceremony
was over, there was a 3 hour feast before Mary would be paraded down the hill
with the congregation following to take her back to the church. I couldn't stay
for that because I needed to get back to the Peace Corps training center for my
afternoon language sessions, but I definitely stayed for the feast. My host mom
put a pagne on the ground as a make-shift picnic blanket and then she told me
to sit while she looks for things. I walked over to my friend Bridget to see
that her host family had already given her dolo, which is a locally made beer.
The best way to describe it is the fruity taste of a cider mixed with Natural
Light. Not the greatest!
Anyway, I walked
back over to where my host mom and brother were sitting and we ate the pasta
she'd brought, locally made tofu, hard boiled eggs and raw peanuts. A man walks
up the hill was an animal skull in his hand and meat on his fingers and mouth. "Invité,"
he joked. It's custom to invite anyone and everyone to your meal if they walk
by while you are eating. People will rarely accept your invitation if it's a
personal-sized meal, but you invite them regardless of how much food you have on
your plate. So, knowing that I'm not Burkina and would refuse, the man asked
and I smiled back and said, "merci," which thank you, but in the
context of an invitation, means no unless followed by a "oui." He
continued the joke by asking a few other times, as well and I just laughed and
said no. My host mom pointed down the hill to a group of men purchasing cooked
meat from a man. "They're buying dog meat," she said. So, I of course
curiously asked what that man had been eating and she said, "oh that was
dog, too." No. No. No. That was a dog skull. I didn't realize people ate that in Léo.
Well, that wasn't
the only odd food that I encountered during the feast. A man walked up with
caterpillars that had been fried and covered in a dark sauce. My host mom
explained that she'd had that the other night. This was news to me. I had no
idea that she ate caterpillars. Both she and the man tried to get me to try
them, insisting that they were really good. I never doubted the sauce was good,
but I would never be able to get over the texture. No way.
It became time to
leave, so Bridget and I hopped on our bikes and my host brother took us back to
the town so we could grab our backpacks and head to the training center. We
were about 5 minutes away when it started raining, then down pouring, the
torrential down pouring! We were only a couple minutes from the house, but the
rain was coming down so hard that it was difficult to see, so we ran into the
nearest shop overhang to wait out the rain. I could ring out my pagne and
pants. We were all cracking up. Luckily no harm came to my camera and phone.
Once the rain wasn't so bad, we hopped back on our bikes because I didn't want
to be late to sessions. My host dad was laughing when we arrived soaking wet to
the house. I grabbed my backpack and was headed out the door and they looked at
me like I was crazy. I hadn't yet changed, but I explained that I had dry
clothes in my backpack and then made my way to the center.
Host Family Thank You Ceremony
The following day,
Saturday, we had our closing ceremony to thank our host families for taking
care of us and supporting us the past 10 weeks. A parent representative would
come up to speak and a trainee representative would come up, too. My host dad
turned out to be speaker! I guess I wasn't so surprised once he was up there
because he's probably one of the older, and thus respected, host parents. He
explained that our departure is bittersweet. They are sad to see us go, but
they are happy to see our accomplishments and ability to move on to the next
stage of Peace Corps, living on our own in their country.
Like the opening
ceremonies, our Language and Culture manager called our host family's name and
then we met them in the center to shake hands and hand them a certificate. My
host brother didn't come up, so I shouted out to him and everyone laughed. He
needed to be in that picture! We then feasted on some rice, kebabs, peanuts and
soda.
Later that night, I
gave my host family a thank you note and a snow globe I'd gotten for them in
San Francisco. The power was out when I gave it to them, so my host dad turned
the light of his cell phone on and was inspecting it super close to his face. My
host brother thought it was super cool. They'd never seen anything like it
before.
Leaving Léo
Sunday morning I
awoke early to wrap up my packing, eat breakfast and then head to the training
center to load the bus and head to the capital. My host mom came into the
hallway to say goodbye as she left for church. It was kind of awkward because I
don't think she knew what to say, so I gave her hug. Well, that started the
waterworks. She started tearing up and wishing me the best of luck in Boussé
and some other things. I was exhausted and trying not to cry myself, so I can't
quite remember everything she said. I gave her a last hug and then she did the
sign of the cross over me asking that God be with me. She's always such a happy
person, so seeing her cry was very hard. Thank goodness my family is strong and
kept it together when I left California, otherwise that would've started my
waterworks.
My host dad took my
giant suitcase to the center, strapped to the back of his motorcycle and I
followed with my duffel strapped to my bike and my backpack on my back. I
thought he'd head back to the house after we dropped my things off, but he
stayed for a while, watching them load the giant truck with our large items.
When he saw my friend Meghan arrive, he said, "now that your friend is
here, I'm going to go to church." He'd been waiting until he saw a close
friend arrive. So sweet.
It was definitely
sad to leave my host family, especially considering all of the cultural moments
I'd experienced with them leading up to my departure. But, there was also a lot
of excitement surrounding swear-in, so it wasn't too bad. I have their phone
numbers and plan to visit at Christmas with some other friends.
