To Barda, To Barda

Peace Corps sends all trainees on a "site visit" to visit a volunteer and check out another part of the country. Also to give us a little break on language and sometimes suffocating schedule. I was sent to Barda which is basically south of the capital. I was curious as to why I was being sent there, and learned that since my background is mostly in refugee work, I was encouraged to inquire on the situation of internally displaced persons. Click here, if you're truly interested The other main purpose was for me to get a decent idea of what a peace corps volunteer actually does at his/her site.
I was beyond glad to go. Did I say beyond glad?? I mean if GLAD was on a line and it was at point 8, then I was off somewhere at point 36. I had to get away from the language cluster because we were working each others nerves like nails on a chalk board. I had to get away from my host mom bombarding me with her service. I love her-but I found it very unnecessary for her to interrupt my bathroom time just to find out if I wanted chai tea and if I was sleepy. I had to get away and like I said: I was beyond Glad.

The 5 hour bus ride to Barda wasn't bad at all. I sat in the front and held a woman's baby 1/3 of the way. I kept quiet and rocked to my itunes. Then I landed in Barda to meet Megan from Wisconsin. Megan is 23/24 with a concerning motherly type of soul. I ate her pancakes, used her outhouse of sorts, slept in her comfy bed and sucked up loads of wifi in order to skype til my little heart was content. Over the course of 4 days I watched her conduct English conversation clubs, ate free dinner with people in her community (this also included fried chicken which I didn't realize I missed until I had some and the all famous Plov), and heard all the interesting conspiracies about this little land of fire. I also had stomach cramps. It was like Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde. When night fell, I was miserable. My stomach was unraveling and I sweated in 30 degree weather. I tossed and turned and tried really hard not to go to the bathroom. On the 4th day I couldn't take it. I had to poop in a hole.
It wasn't solid either.

I finally got a 'down' day after it was apparent that I wasn't feeling up to par and I contemplated whether I wanted to go to Barda or not. Let me try to explain Barda for you (this requires you to use your imagination): it's a town. It's a clean flat town that feels like a fortress. There is wall after wall after wall blocking the view of the houses behind them. The government building are pristine tan blocks of concrete and the roads are paved. Not so many flies as I've experienced in other places. The outsides of mostly everything looks awesome, but on the inside-it's crumbling. That's what I'm learning about this country-it's the outside that must appear attractive, but it's the inside that needs a lot of tlc. Anyhow, Megan works in one of these crumbling schools to which I must pass through the kitchen of an internally displaced family who have made this school their home. Then I go into this big bright room and that's where the magic happens: CONVERSATION CLUBS. 7th graders who want to learn or improve their English attend these conversation clubs and young professional women who want a better income come to learn or improve their English also attend. Megan is the instrument that facilitates this impact. I was equally inspired and both disheartened. Upon seeing the situation with the squatting family and doing a bit of research, I decided that perhaps this site visit did exactly what it was suppose to do-show me that I could best use my talents elsewhere. Barda is nice, but it's not for me. I think most trainees felt that way about their site visit and others loved where they went. I wish I could've said the same.
Well I'm back 'home' in the land of Saray and my stomach is back on track (or trying to be). My host mom returned to her usual antic of offering me bread, tea, grapes, pears and tea. I slept peacefully through the night and even took a guiltless shower. I also had a dream: I was in Whole Foods pushing a cart full of cookies and olive oil. I had a cheeseburger in my left hand and the baker said " would you like me to make you a strawberry shortcake from scratch? It'll only be 2 seconds." Ahhhh...home I miss you so!

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