Peace Corps Guinea: To the Village, On Strike

After site visit I went to my regional capital, only a 35 minute car ride away (on a good day, depending on the car), to say my goodbyes to the rest of my training group. It was exciting to hear the stories of first impressions of where each volunteer would spend their two years. One of my friends got sick on her work colleague’s floor, where she had to spend the night!

And so I began that first bit at site, which every prospective volunteer eagerly anticipates during training and dreads at the same time. Guineans nation-wide went on a strike during my first week alone in my village. The price of a sack of rice had exceeded a government worker’s salary, so they were striking for salary increases. Markets were closed in big cities, taxi transport ground to a halt, and government workers (including teachers) stayed home. Though there weren’t cars running on the dirt road of my village, and kids didn’t have school, you could barely tell there was a strike in my village.

On market day, women walked from across the district carrying produce and goods as per usual. At one point a local government official drove through town on his way to a meeting and chaos broke out in the market. Everyone rushed to gather up their goods and flee, afraid that they would be beaten for boycotting the strike. My house sits right behind the market. I was entertaining a couple of teenage girls on my porch when suddenly women came running through the alley-way from the market, produce tumbling from the sacks they were gathering up as they ran. It was just a miscommunication and the market resumed. Later I biked the 1.5 hours to Labe to celebrate my birthday. After 5 days of striking, an agreement was reached with the government and the strike ended.

I settled in at site for 24 days. Though there were times of boredom, confusion, frustration, and helplessness, I was so excited to finally start my service. I worked on the local tree nurseries, greeted in Pular, entertained visitors on my porch, and settled into my house. Despite the challenges, it didn’t take long to realize that my village was a perfect match for me.

I live in a small village that serves as the market hub for even smaller villages in the countryside of my district. Depending on their location, some people also go to markets 7km and 12km away on the weekend, mostly by foot. My house is alone in a walled yard, which gives me some degree of privacy. The Peuhls (the ethnic group of my region) are notoriously calmer and quieter than other ethnic groups, which really helps when living in a fish bowl for 2 years. I have a village telecentre (a staffed phone booth), which makes communication with the Peace Corps easy. I have even received phone calls from my family, though it is so difficult to get through, we now wait for my trips to the regional capital. Though the Fouta Djallon is densely populated, I can still wander in the rolling hills of the countryside in any direction from my village center. I also have Peace Corps volunteer neighbors 12km, 29km, and 35 km away. A listening ear (in English!) is just a short bike ride away.