September 3, 2001

THIS IS A TRUE, DETAILED ACCOUNT OF WHAT HAPPENED THE DAY I SAW MY SITE:

Imagine you leave a small coastal town in a minivan. The coast is like Northern California, cliffs dropping to the sea, large expanses of ocean that end at the horizon -- you can see for miles ahead.. You now understand why people once thought the world was flat -- it sure looks like that! The rebelados, or rebels, who have rejected Cape Verdean society 50 years ago, mill about in their fields, planting and caring for their livestock. The roofs are thatched, unlike other Cape Verdean homes, and the pure blue of the ocean behind the houses is distracting. The car cruises in and out of sea coves on the black, cobblestone road that meanders along the coast. The mountains to your left are majestic, lush, and the clouds are caught on them, impeded by their height. The sun filters through the clouds onto the mountainside, and you feel like you could be in the movie Jurrasic Park.

The car turns onto a road, and the cliffs about fifty feet high rise to each side. You are driving in a riverbed, which now dry, is harvesting sugarcane and corn. A random child or women walks on the roadside here and there, carrying buckets of water or vegetables on their heads. You remember the time you visited the Southwest (USA), and this looks just like Chaco Canyon outside of Albuquerque, but it's green. You wonder if this is what the Southwest may have looked like centuries ago when the climate was different, where there was rain.. The cliffs get higher and higher, the mountain sides more lush. Every inch of every cliff is terraced with corn, beans, and sugarcane. Wild, plump turkeys (just like the ones we drew as kids around Thanksgiving) wander through the fields and squak in delight at the bugs to eat. They fan their tails and ruffle their feathers in pairs, for courtship is taking place. The houses are stone or whitewashed with red roofs, and their doors open to the sun and valley breeze. The temperature has dropped from the coast, and a kingfisher, the national bird, alights on a nearby fench or tree. Their beaks are red, their feathers sometimes turquoise blue, iridescent in the sun. This must be paradise... The clouds caught on the majestic mountains above have breaks here and there where the sun rays filter down and hit random houses or plots of land. Can this be real? You know you are probably the luckiest volunteer in Cape Verde, let alone Africa. You sigh, in awe, and let out a long, 'Wowwwww.'

The car comes to a stop, and you have reached the new $80,000 community center that the US Ambassador just build for the village of 350 people named Hortelao. You are told this is your new home, and you are handed a glass of grog, the liquor the valley is famous for. You drink it, and smile, I mean, you cough. It tastes like rubbing alcohol -- high quality rubbing alcohol at $8.00 per bottle. You are told you will help the community market it because it's a huge income generation source and they are proud of how far they've come -- they still bottle it by hand. You smile and examine the new bathrooms, two toilets literally facing eachother in the women's area, I guess, so that you can talk! The children's preschool is filled with new desks, but no toys. There is even already a leak in the roof, which needs fixing, and you will have to pursue the contruction company for their faulty labor. That will all take time though, maybe the whole next year. There is a new office waiting for you, and a place to store your moutain bike, when you ride down from your house further up in the mountains to this town center. You drive further up the valley along a rocky dirt road that you know will be perfect for mountain biking to work -- you are thrilled! You imagine yourself biking along the path that follows the stream bed, and with your dog that will accompany you wherever you go.

You have been asked to keep the Dalmation (brown spotted) of a past Peace Corps volunteer couple originally from Hawaii, and his name is Snoop. He loves hiking, and you know that you'll have a trail companion up to another town you have to work with up in the mountains. He'll carry an emergency medical kit, and water and food for the two of you in his new doggie backpack from the USA. Four other volunteers want Snoop because he knows 6 commands and is eager to learn more, but they have agreed that you will need him the most because you are a woman and will live alone in this river valley for the next 2 years.

You come to a stop because an old man, gray and in his eighties, is laying on a rock wall that borders the road. He's trembling, eyes fixated ahead, and his daughter crouches near him, saying he needs an urgent ride to a hospital. He is having a heart attack or stroke probably, and he can't even walk. You wonder if he will make it to the hospital, and think of his worries because his other daughter is in France when this is happening. He is moaning, and saying over and over in Kriolu that he is dying. You hope he is wrong, and stare in disbelief.

You are suddenly with your friends walking in this lush valley where you will soon live, along the dirt road. Things are now much further away without the car, and you study the rock walls that may soon have waterfalls. You reach Principal, the next town up, which you will also be working with to improve their income generation through various micro-business ideas. You may even introduce solar energy, since their solar town water pump donated by the Austrians already does a great job and sets a example for the possibilities. Chickens chase each other through small gardens, pigs snort from their pens, and people greet you with 'Bom Dia. Tudu Dretu?' Good day, everything well? You see a gush of water coming flowing down the stream bed that runs throught the town, and kids run to play in the water, their giggles echoing off of nearby houses. Is this paradise? Other volunteers stand in awe at your site, especially Dave, a Peace Corps volunteer on vacation after one year at his site, Mauritania. This is heaven he says -- he is happy for you. He snaps a few photos that he will take home and show the others on the mainland to make them jealous.

After much procrastination, the president of your agricultural association says that he will show you your new home. He asks you what you want the most in a house, and you say that you want it to be quite with a lot of sunlight. Along the road, you see a trail of Cape Verdeans walking in a steady line towards Principal. Your friends tell you to get ready to greet all of them with two kisses, and you laugh. But only one steps forward from the line to talk with you and Nasolino, the president of Hortelao's Association. The man says that someone has just died in Principal, and they are on their way to pay their respects to the family. Funerals in Cape Verde are very ceremonial with whaling and moaning from the house to the church to the cementary. When asked how the 22 year old died, the man tells you that he wanted to get married, but his parents did let him. He died of sexual frustation. He says this in a serious tone, and you know he is not joking. You think to yourself that without good medical diagnosis here, he could have had a weak heart or chronic diarrhea. You hear gunshots and ask what they are killing. You are told that wild monkeys are stealing corn up in the terraced fields, so farmers are shooting them.

When you arrive back at Hortelao, you are led to Nasolino´s house. You walk inside, after greeting his wife, who is wearing traditional farming clothes after her long day in the mountains tending to their land. She looks 16, but is surely over 20 with a 3 year old son named Odear. You say to Odear, 'Da fixi!' and he slaps your hand a high five with a huge smile on his face. Nasolino is only about 25 himself, and you never imagined you could have such a young boss, one that dresses like Tiger Woods with an Addidas golf hat he wears backwards. He leads you down some dark cement stairs into his basement. He has started adding an addition onto his house, because he knows it will be a great investment. Nobody in the town has a latrine, and he knows that not only will he get a latrine that's good for 8 years, but he will have complete control over every volunteer that is to work in the valley. He may even get English classes or babysitting each night, if he asks you enough.

You gaze into the two rooms he has given you, crude concrete, gaping holes in the walls where windows will be placed, cobwebs line the ceiling, a stove with old food sits dirty in the corner. The rooms are no larger than 6' x 8' each with 9' ceilings. The windows open up to a nice view of the valley walls, but there are trees that obscure your light, and you wonder how you will survive here. You will have to walk through his house to get to yours, and then he starts to ask you when you will start working. You are overwhelmed. This is not what you had expected, too small, too dirty, too much for the moment. You escape out the door to the small plot of land behind his house and yours. The town's school patio overlooks your house, so there will be plenty of noise all day long, starting at 7:30 am. A 10' rock wall borders another side of the land, and you ask if he can build a staircase for you there to have your own private entrance. He gets offended and asks why you won't walk through his house, his home. You ask how you will get water, and he says, 'On your head, of course!' You are told the latrine will be build there in your garden, and you just keep wondering what the other volunteers beside you think of your new home. After a barrage of questions, you all retreat to the truck that will take you back to Calheta. You sit thinking about the paradise that surrounds you, and the horrible house that just cannot be.

When you get to Calheta, you call the Director of Community Development. You tell him the situation, that you can't live with your boss, especially when men take mulitiple women and your living situation could be misunderstood by the community. He says he understands, and that he will have them find something else. Little did you know that you would spend another 6 hours of deliberation over the next two days trying to get the President of Oasis, the NGO that supports all Associations you work with, to find you a new house. Nasolino is upset and offended that you will not live in his house. What will he tell the town now? That his house was not good enough, and that there are no other houses, thus the one volunteer must move to Principal. After much arguing, it is agreed upon that houses will be sought in Principal for you. Everyone is frustrated. Nasolino probably took out a loan to add onto his house, and you are now saying you will not be living there, and he will not be receiving the rent that he had expected to pay off his house. You feel bad, but you will feel worse if you stay there for two years.