Corps de la Paix
B.P. 1127 Abidjan
COTE D'IVOIRE
Sunday, July 20, 1980

Dear Dad & Mom,

I just finished handwashing some of my clothes. I am writing this letter in one of the classrooms of the C.A.F.O.P. (le Centre de l'Animation de la Formation Pedagogique), here in Daloa, which is a teacher training school for primary teachers. Daloa is at least a four hour drive from Abidjan in a northwesterly direction. We arrived Monday afternoon. The "staging" or le stage is taking place here. All twenty-three "volunteers" are referred to as stagiaires at this point. So far one person has dropped out, Jack. I gave him your telephone number. He said he would call you from Washington, D.C. He couldn't handle it. It seems like I've been in the Ivory Coast for months. Abidjan was hectic. All I can remember is the endless stream of people everywhere, and the pale, rose colored dust, the bright green and orange taxis, the women with their babies slung on their backs and a pan of food or cloth balanced on their heads and wearing bright colored dresses, and men walking up and down the street or waiting for the bus going downtown. We stayed at the hotel Konankro on Marcory street. I have not been able to write until now because I have not felt up to it until now, although I wrote off a quick letter to Mark Bender a few days ago. It takes about two weeks for a letter to reach the U.S. I hope he is still living on 17th Ave. because I sent the letter there. I was suffering from jet lag, a party I never fully recovered from in Philly, the many shots, and a slight case of dehydration, not to mention how the mind plays tricks on you. I heard that the stagiaires are at first manic due to the newness of the environment and then suffer from depression afterwards. I'm suffering from homesickness, yet I feel near everyone at home, and even John. But, we've only been in Africa a little over a week. Thursday we began French classes and Monday I will teach for fifteen minutes in front of a class of fourth level students who are equivalent to our ninth and tenth grade students. There is a primary school next to the C.A.F.O.P. So I won't go to my assignment cold. They have not yet told the English teachers where we will be teaching and I don't know exactly why, although the Director of the "staging" said "they" don't know yet. The teachers here, or the encadreurs, are very sophisticated and educated Africans. I have not gotten used to this fact. Most of them are bilingual, not to mention that they speak their native tongues. My French professor, Mea, is an Agni. Gbari, the language director of the stage, is is the Minister of the Enseignement Technique et de la Formation Professionelle, one of the three Ministries of Education of the Ivory Coast. They go for long titles here. One good thing about my job is that I will have a long vacation at which time I would like to travel around and perhaps see a poorer country like Niger. Here you can get anything. It is one of the richest countries in Africa. Abidjan is one of the most expensive cities to live in in the world. The stagiaires are from all over the U.S. Two of them are from Cleveland. We had a party last night and I met a U.N. volunteer from Dublin. This morning I heard drums off in the distance, the first time since I've been in Africa. This afternoon there is a soccer game between a team from Abidjan and Daloa. It starts soon so I'll end the letter.

Affectionately Yours,
Matt