Andy Burkina

It's now official. My official "Close of Service" (COS) date is Nov. 2, and I'll be flying home on Nov. 7. That means just over 6 weeks left! It's crazy - for so long the end of my service was just a vague, distant idea, connected to visions of sushi and peach sorbet. And even as it approached it remained hazy, something more theoretical than real. And then all of a sudden, at the time of COS conference (a couple weeks ago) it became a concrete thing, and I had to start making real decisions about what date I would COS, had to start writing up a zillion final reports, and had to start thinking about things like resumes, job searches, and "what next." Instead of thinking what my next project is going to be, I'm now thinking about how to best wrap things up, and how to leave things off so that my replacement can be as effective as possible. My replacement, Ami, came last week for her site visit - she seems really excited about coming to live and work in Djibo, and she seems ready to jump in and take things to the next level. She seems like a very hard worker, and I feel confident leaving things in her hands. But it's weird knowing that I'll be replaced - it's not like in the US, where someone simply replaces you in your job - in this case it's someone coming to do your work, live in your house, and likely have many of the same friends. It's an odd feeling, and there is pressure on both sides of the fence - the new volunteer who is coming in feels pressure to "live up to" the old volunteer who has had much time to get settled and figure things out. But leaving and being replaced has its own pressures too - knowing that decisions that I made and the ways in which I behaved will be seen in comparison to the way my replacement does things, and I don't want her to be negatively affected by any of that.

Going about the process of leaving is often confusing, and it brings with it many conflicting emotions. There is the excitement about seeing family and friends, contrasted with the thought of leaving people I've lived with for 2 years, and who it is very possible I will never see again. Almost every conversation that I have in Djibo nowadays ends with some mention of my leaving Djibo, and with a plea that I should extend for another two years, or stay in Djibo indefinitely, marry a Peul woman, and never go home. There is also the eagerness to move on to the next step in my life, but along with it the fear and worry that I don't really know what that next step is. It's probably a good thing that I have so many reports to fill out and various logistical things to arrange, because these help to distract me from some of these difficult and conflicting emotions.

I'm currently in Ouaga at the tail end of my COS medical exams. It appears I've got a clean bill of health, and I also managed to go 2 years in Burkina without any cavities! Knock on wood (don't want to jinx myself with so little time left). Today I'm headed up to Kaya to see my host family - "Bill Gates" & co. It's been over a year since I've seen them, and this will be my last real chance to go up, since Bill Gates passed the civil service exam last year to become a teacher, and in the beginning of October he's being sent to his first post. After a day or two in Kaya, I'll head back home to Djibo, stopping in a town called Gourcy, where the training of new volunteers is taking place. I'm going there to take language tests in French and Fulfulde - I'm curious to see what level I'm at after two years. And then back to Djibo, where I'll stay for about a month before I head back down to Ouaga to officially close out my service. And after that...who knows. Anyone with hot job leads or ideas, I'd be very thankful for any advice or words of wisdom.

So, to sum up: leaving Burkina in 6 weeks; wrapping things up and moving on is a strange process in many ways; I have no idea what's next. Sorry if the above description was a bit rambling and disjointed at points.

Hopefully I'll see many of you soon!

Peace,
Andy