Mandy's Menagerie- SUPER SPECIAL POST

Mandy's Menagerie- Special Edition Blog Post!

Hello mes amis! I'm sure you know by now that I'm in love with animals and you can probably guess that my fellow interns are pretty sick of me stopping them in the street every five seconds to look at a chicken, lizard, goat, etc. I even get distracted when I'm talking with prisoners because they have farm animals in the prison yard! The guards/my coworkers always laugh at me because I am constantly (and often, I might add, successfully) trying to pick up the little baby chickens at the prison. (Side note: in French, chickens are called “poulet” and chicks are called “poussin”)

Anyway, I thought I'd dedicate one of my blog posts to my much-loved animal friends.

Monsieur Le Crocodile:

I finally got a picture of Monsieur Le Crocodile in all his reptilian majesty. For some reason, The Mission decided to drain his pool a few days ago, so him and his roommate, the prehistoric gigantic turtle, were stranded on dry/muddy land :( Don't worry, he has water again now! But I did manage to take advantage of the opportunity to get some frighteningly close-up photographs of my handsome scaly-tailed boyfriend:

Bats bats bats

Next, I've been observing the bat colony in the back of the Mission. The locals don't like them very much but I think they're AWESOME.

I can't get very good pictures of them flying, even with my zoom lens, so here's one of them in the trees!

MONKEY!!

This is my pet monkey. The guys who “own” him call him Boo Boo, but my name for him is Mr. Knightley. He doesn't give a shit if he perpetuates stereotypes- he will eat all the bananas. He's hungry.

He's called a Campbell's Monkey, but he doesn't like labels.

Last, but not least... GECKOS

How cool are these guys? This one hangs out on the ceiling by the lights at night ready to nom nom nom on some tasty weird bug things.

OH WAIT one more! Adorable kitten. Because kittens are universally good.  

Week 4, OR Haters Be Hatin'

Many of you probably already know that last Monday, there was an attempted coup against the president of Guinea, Alpha Conde. On the day itself, most roads leading into the city were closed, and only the interns came to work to use the internet. I'm not going to lie- it was a little scary. I spent most of Monday night worrying about whether there would be violence in the streets reminiscent of September 28^th. Mostly because, well, the locals kept telling me that there would be violence in the streets reminiscent of September 28^th.

Luckily, everything is okay-ish now! There haven't been any riots or outbreaks of violence that I know of. A new Minister of Justice was just appointed, so there have been a lot of changes amongst all of the tribunals, making work fairly difficult for the last week and a half. Add that to the attempted coup and additional security everywhere, and you have a recipe for a very grumpy Mandy.

The good news? I've liberated two people in the past week. So far, my count is up to five during my entire stay. The kid that we got out of prison last week came back to visit me at the office a few days ago. He said he wanted to thank me before he went back to his village in Sierra Leone. 


Then he asked for my phone number. Touché, kid.

They can take away your liberty, but they can't take away your game.

So aside from the attempted coup against the state and the closed tribunals, things have been going pretty well! I even got some souvenir shopping in last weekend, during which my fellow intern, Jeny, and I thought we would look for some novels to read in French. After spending a fair amount of time explaining to the book-selling-guy exactly what we were looking for, he got very excited and led us all the way through the enormous marketplace where we had been shopping. Ten minutes and three vendors later, he emerged holding several Harlequin romance novels looking quite pleased with himself. My favorite was “Le Cowboy Romantique”.

We eventually left the marketplace and abused our wallets at some great artisan shops next to the water. After all of our money was gone we were too tired to shop anymore, we sat on a wall along the boardwalk and looked out at the water while a live band played in the background. Lovely. 

Anywho, that's about it! I have some pretty cool updates about my animals here, which I promise I shall share with you soon. :)

Here's a sneak peak...

Week 3, OR Goin' to the Chapel

Hey friends!

My fellow intern, Jeny, and I were invited to a traditional Guinean wedding. It was wonderful, strange, and tasty all at the same time. I definitely have my own opinions about the wedding traditions, but I'll try not to be too biased as I recount some of the highlights. I'll let you decide what you make of it!

The Happy Couple

Only the close family and friends were allowed to participate in the ceremony, and Jeny and I were lucky enough to be included in that small group. The wedding took place at a family member's house, and the ceremony was held in the living room while the other guests celebrated outside with music and dancing. The ceremony began with "negotiators" introducing everyone and talking a little bit about the family. Their speeches were punctuated by dancing and singing among all of the guests.

Every time the music started playing loudly, the grooms family had to go outside and dance until the music stopped. 

After the speeches were done, an older woman came out and began to collect money. Our friend explained to us that they were symbolically paying for the "transportation" of the bride. The woman came out several times, saying things like, "Her taxi broke down! We need more money!" It was purely symbolic and extremely amusing.

When enough money had been collected, they brought out the bride shrouded in cloth on her hands and knees, like an animal going to market. Everyone in the room began shouting, singing, and dancing around her, all the while throwing more money so the maid of honor could reveal the girl beneath the cloth. Alas, the first girl turned out to NOT be the right bride, and she was sent back. This was repeated twice more, the third time revealing the true bride.

When the real bride was revealed, dressed in a traditional gown of aqua silk, the men began to once again yell, sing, and dance upon her. She sat on the floor in the middle of the crowded room (which had to have been at least 85 degrees) while the men negotiated the price of the bride. The dowry was then presented in the form of money and nuts wrapped in banana leaves. The groom's family also presented the bride with a knife, which symbolized her first steps into a life of domesticity and marital bliss. The banana-leaf-packages were wrapped in yards and yards of twine, which the bride struggled to untie as the men stood around her, shouting directions about the best way to do it. She did not seem to enjoy this process and was coaxed with more money, which was either thrown at her or slapped on her forehead.

I'm not making any of this up. 

The bride unwrapping the dowry in the middle of everyone. 

After three and a half hours of shouting, singing, dancing, and negotiating, the groom's family had effectively purchased a bride. It should be noted that the groom was not present for the ceremony.

The rest of the wedding was far more fun and far less offensive. We danced at the ceremony venue for about an hour, during which we took a break long enough to make friends with some of the locals :)

Sorry to turn all "Angelina" on you...

After dancing, we drove to a big house and Jeny and I were given seats of honor right next to the bride while we ate dinner. It was a delicious meal of spiced potatoes, peas, rice, and chicken. AMAZING.

Delicious dinner!

Overall, it was a fantastic experience. It's amazing how welcoming Guinean people are. The family treated us like guests of honor and they were so excited to share their traditions and their home with us. I can't say that I loved every second of it, though. Parts of the ceremony were down-right disturbing to me, but I'm really glad that I went all the same. I'll always be grateful to them for letting me be part of such an important day!

More to come this week, I promise!

-Mandy

Guinea week 2, OR Up in Da Club

As it turns out, Guinean night clubs are quite strange.

First of all, nobody seems to really go to them. We went to three different nightclubs at midnight on a Saturday and they were all almost completely empty.

A typical crazy Saturday night at a hoppin' Guinean club! 

Second, NOBODY DANCES WITH ONE ANOTHER. Instead, they dance by themselves in front of mirrors. I'm not joking. I watched one guy in particular practice his best N'SYNC moves in front of a mirror for a good thirty minutes. Halfway through, a girl came up and started trying to initiate something that might have looked like dancing together. Unable to share the sexy, homeboy promptly moved himself away from the girl (as she was obstructing his view in the mirror) and continued to “bye-bye-bye” his way into the early morning.

My Guinean Narcissus was even too engrossed to notice while I took no less than ten pictures of him.

This is the best one I could get without moving into his mirror space, which he would surely have noticed.

Third, oh third. The club-wear is almost as terrifying as its American counterpart. Guinean women love them some distressed, animal-printed jeggings.

Finally, Guinean clubs are especially bizarre because you are sure to run into awkward ex-patriots who do things like this:

And this:

That one was for you, Monsieur Le Crocodile.

Sorry for the delay in posts! I should get up two or three this week :) I have lots to tell you all, and... PICTURES OF MY CROCODILE :)

-mandy

Week 1, OR Go Tell It to the Crocodile

Sorry, everyone! No pictures this time but many to come :)

WORK

My job here is wonderful and I'm enjoying being around a group so dedicated to the defense of human rights. A typical day consists of my partner and I walking to the prison, the appellate court, or one of the tribunals and looking for documents or speaking to prosecutors. It's a lot of waiting, a lot of walking, and a lot of paperwork. The Guinean system is anything but efficient, and this inefficiency stems from a lack of access to technology. 

There are no consistent landlines and as far as I can tell, absolutely no legal records are kept electronically.

Part of the reason why so many people are kept in prison without judgment or past their release date is that they simply get lost in the paper trail. It's made me realize how inextricably linked development, access to technology, and human rights truly are.

On my very first day, the police brought a man to the prison who had been shot (by police) and tortured for about a week. The bullet was kept in his leg, causing an infection that I can only describe as the most terrible thing I've ever seen. When he arrived at the prison, we was laid outside in the dirt, where he remained in a fetal position while others watched. 

He died a few days later.

We found out today that he and two accomplices had been trying to steal something (we're not sure what exactly) and in the course of trying to escape, all three were shot. The other two died instantly. As it turns out, the man I saw had actually shot and killed the Minister of Education (I think) and our director was hesitant to advocate for medical treatment for such a controversial prisoner. We did make sure he got to the hospital, but it was too late.

So far I've been present for the liberation of three prisoners. Even though I'm still in the learning stage and can't take any sort of credit for their release, it was still an incredible feeling to escort them out of the prison, each time with appreciative shouts of “bon travail” and "bravo!" from the guards. They don't want people to be unlawfully detained anymore than we do. 

FOOD

The food here is delicious, but my stomach is not always in agreement with it. I got incredibly sick last weekend, which actually contributed to my delay in blogging about my arrival. I'm feeling a lot better, and haven't had any problems eating here since. The best part about Guinean cuisine is the cost. My lunch today (a bowl of rice with some sort of spinach-y sauce) was 50cents. The most expensive meal I've had here cost around $10, but I've been typically spending less than $2/day on food. I tried something really delicious the other day called Atieke, which is a traditional dish from Cote d'Ivoire consisting of manioc ground up into a cous-cous type base with diced tomatoes, onions, cucumbers, chili, and a whole fried fish. You take a little of everything, mash it into little chunks, and eat it with your hands. Ah-mazing. For a huge bowl, it costs around 75 cents.

The only expensive food we ever indulge in is at Le Damier, which is a small french restaurant that caters to tourists. It's our favorite spot for a cappuccino after a particularly long day of work. (Which is funny, because we start work at 9 and usually end around 3. Did I mention I wear flip-flops every day?)

ANIMALS

I've seen some pretty freakin awesome animals in Guinea. No, there are no giraffes or what you might think of when you picture “African” animals, but that's okay. On the streets, you are sure to run into friendly stray dogs, cats, and LOTS of goats. My interns (and Guinean bystanders) always think I'm nuts because I'm constantly petting things that probably have diseases. The other day, I even met a monkey and fed him bananas. (no pictures this time, but I'm going back to see him again soon!) 

I also discovered a bat colony in one of the mango trees behind the catholic mission where I'm staying. They are incredibly cool. I've never been able to see bats move around and feed during the day before, but these ones are very active, even at 3 o clock in the afternoon! Short of actually climbing to the top of the tree to meet them, I would definitely do anything to get a closer look at my new friends. 

Last but certainly not least, the catholic mission has its very own crocodile. They have a small habitat for him in the jungle-y backyard area, and he is absolutely fantastic. Why is there a crocodile at a catholic mission? Well, I'm glad you asked. The Bishop who founded the mission just loved crocodiles. That's all there is to it. 

I'm assuming that if I ever had my own mission, it would double as a hamster sanctuary. 

MANDY

I've been adjusting fairly well here. Guinean people are so welcoming and warm that it's hard not to like them. Everywhere I go, people are always happy to meet me and continuously forgiving of my terrible French. (A side note: Guinean accents= SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND. Sometimes it doesn't even sound like French at all.)

I miss everyone so much. I really really like Guinea, but I can't help but wish sometimes that I was having a glass of wine with my best friend Annie or eating at my favorite sushi restaurant with my parents or watching Hulu with Buttercup. Since homesickness and occasional frustration with my work is inevitible, and venting to my friends or family is a waste of a call home, I have found someone to listen to my problems when I need them to. Want to guess who? Monsieur Le Crocodile, of course! 

A tip: if you ever find yourself venting to a crocodile, make sure there aren't five gentlemen sitting on a bench nearby. They will laugh at you, and you will just have one more problem to share with him.

Well, au revoir for now, my hamsters! Will update more soon and I expect lots of love emails updating me on all of your adventures! I suspect a special post entitled Mandy's Mammals is just around the corner ;)

How Airports Turn People Into Foot-Cuddlers, OR En Route to Guinea

I think airports are as close to the “state of nature” as most of us will ever get. 

Anonymity does something to people. It makes them feel comfortable wearing sweatpants and crocs somewhere other than the privacy of their own homes. It encourages them to drink a $10 airport gin and tonic at 8 am. But most importantly, or at least most notably to me, 

anonymity seems to encourage EVERYONE TO STARE AT EVERYONE ELSE. 

What would normally be a quick glance at the semi-interesting-looking young lady next to you becomes a prolonged gazing that can only be characterized as lecherous. Why? Because at airports, people don't care if you think they are creepy. Also, they are probably bored.

At least in normal public areas you can usually attribute being the victim of shameless staring to something positive about yourself. Don't get me wrong- I don't like being stared at. It makes me incredibly uncomfortable, but at least when a group of 17-yr-old boys gawk I can occasionally rationalize it as “Yep. I still got it.”

At airports, this isn't the case. You don't got it. You probably never had it. The person staring at you in an airport is most likely trying to figure out what you'd look like if they rearranged your facial features or how many mini jawbreakers they could possibly fit into one of your volcanic pores.

Luckily, I found the cure to staring-induced airport irritation, or SIAI. (Worst.Acronym.Ever.)

Meditation Rooms, which are basically just chapels, are next to bars, the best airport resource. As a remarkably nonreligious person, I've always felt a bit excluded from the benefits of organized believing and today I decided it was about time I took my slice from the beneficial pie of divine devotion.

So I meditated in the meditation room in Newark Airport. Okay, that's a lie. I stretched, though and it was awesome.

Unfortunately, my zen state of mind was quickly disrupted by the nice middle aged man sitting next to me on the plane who violated one of the most fundamental rules of passenger etiquette. The man CUDDLED MY FEET. He not only put his foot in MY foot space, but he caressed my foot with his. I was footsied. In a not-so-subtle hint, I stomped on his offending foot and made an angry face at the back of the seat in front of me. Success!

Now I'm in the Brussels Airport waiting for my flight to Guinea! It's amazing how quickly a coffee, some cookies, and a definite lack of foot cuddling can raise my spirits. Next stop, Conakry!*

*obviously this isn't updated. In Guinea! Will post about that this weekend! I miss everyone :)

Getting Ready For Guinea!

Hi. My name's not Mandy. 

I have a cat named Buttercup, a master's degree in karate, and strong moral values* 

*Only one of these things is true.

I officially leave for Guinea tomorrow morning at 6 am!

I'll be spending two months in Conakry working as a legal intern for Les Memes Droits Pour Tous, a wonderful human rights NGO that mainly advocates for victims of unlawful detainment and torture. However, in recent years they have also begun to advocate for victims of gender discrimination and female genital mutilation. I'm scared as hell, but I couldn't feel luckier to be a part of such a great organization. 

A few things I've done to prepare for my trip...

1. Shots. Lots of Shots. Four to be exact. Typhoid, Yellow Fever, Meningitis, and POLIO. Who gets polio anymore? Honestly.

2. Malaria prophylactic. There are two kinds that you can get for Guinea. One is $9/pill, which ADDS up since you take it daily. The other one is significantly cheaper (I think under $30 for a month) but has serious side effects. Most insurances don't cover it, but mine did so I was able to get the more expensive one without having to shell out $600. WIN.

3. Visa. I actually went to the Guinean Embassy in DC and got a visa! Tip: you can pay $20 and have it next-day delivered. I literally got my visa delivered to my parents house in San Diego the same week I applied for it in DC. 

4. Plane tickets. The rowboats from San Diego to Conakry were completely booked. 

5. Practice my French because Guinea is a French-speaking country. Except that I really didn't practice very much. I'm hoping it will all just come back to me the second I step off the plane. That's rational, right?

5. PACKING PACKING PACKING: 

For clothing, I was super aware that I was going to a predominantly muslim country where adult women tend to dress more conservatively. I packed a million basic tanks, long skirts, and moderately conservative dresses. I only brought FOUR PAIRS OF SHOES. Two pairs of flip-flops, a pair of running shoes, and a pair of wedges for going out dancing :) If you know me, you know that this is quite the achievement. Also, I brought Wellies since it's the rainy season, but I don't count those as shoes. They are made of rubber. 

Rubber shoes don't count.

Other than clothes, the most important things I packed include a 

Mosquito Net, Bug Spray, and a Lantern.

          

           My very supportive mother bought me five different kinds of bug spray, just in case the first four fail. 

ANYWAY, wish me luck! This is just about the craziest thing I've ever done. Well, the craziest thing that I'll post about on the internet, anyway. 

loff.