Saturday, December 5, 2009

The Peace Corps Experience


Peace Corps. What the heck is it, anyway? I've been here for a year and I'm still constantly learning new things and finding myself in new situations that can only be categorized as a Peace Corps Volunteer experience. These things are one in a lifetime, for sure. This month I've had it all over the board. This meaning that my once-in-a-lifetime experiences did it all for me. I laughed, I cried, I wanted to go home, I wanted to stay here for ever, I loved my village and family, I hated them. I felt like I knew what I was doing, I felt completely incompetent. I was full of energy and I even felt so exhausted I thought I would die (perhaps this is a hyperbole, perhaps not).

This month the maximum amount of time I spent in one place was three days. I averaged about a day or two at a place. Basically I just went back and forth between Kedougou and my village. Oh and there was this time I climbed some spired on top of a mountain as well. All in all this month I rode almost 600 kilometers on my bike. I now feel strange going two days without a rigorous bike ride.

Now really, what have I done this month?

I'll start with work.
Gardening season is starting. This is my second time around. I actually contemplated for quite a while about what I could do to really “help” my village this time around, using all of the knowledge that I can acquired over the previous year. Remember last year? I slaved over my own garden, pulling up to 160 liters of water a day and helped 15 households have a private garden of their own. I learned what worked and what didn't. Some worked, lots didn't. Over this past year I've learned how my village works. What the people do and don't do. This year I wanted to make something that would work. Something that would satisfy the people's desire and would do it with as little obstacles as possible.
So... I applied for funding for a gardening project for three groups in my village. About 40 people total will work together with others to make a total of 60 garden plots. The funding allows for supplies to be brought to my village to give the project a good start and to make it more sustainable. Gardening tools and chain-link fence are the supples. The fence will go up next to three reliable water sources so that people don't have to carry their water and they can garden together. It's like, group work. I thought about this a lot. I had it down to a T. I felt like this thing was on the back of my hand.

Time passed. I started mixing my plan with the people..

Then reality hit me. Wow. There is this thing I read about.... pure VS applied science. Never really got to put it into context firsthand until now. And I'm doing it in an African village. Next step, throw away everything you thought you knew and become … well... not the pure and perfect Peace Corps Volunteer. My role in this project is more like a sort of phantom/babysitter. Nobody really knows what to do in my presence other than nod and smile, and then when they don't do what I tell them, I have to mediate through drama by just standing there. It must be the anatomy of forming new groups that I hadn't taken into account.


My other big project is starting slow because I keep finding obstacles in outside help. Development. What is it? Giving a village a bunch of fish or teaching a man to fish efficiently and teach him the skills to teach his fellow men? Who knew that helping an extraordinary individual become a model farmer so he could be an example for and teach others would be so controversial. Why use funding to help one person when you could use it to help a whole lot? In theory yes, I get it. But in practice, shouldn't you look a little bit closer? Which project would actually be most likely to give positive results? I call in a case by case study.
So I have this really great farmer that I've been working with for a year.
If I could help him I could get him and his field to maximum capacity in technology I could then work with him to teach him to teach others. Doesn't that sound kinda cool? So yeah, I'm working on that and don't be surprised if I may need to ask for some of your guys' help (whoever reads these things, anyway?).

Now do you know why I've been putting off my blog? I'm in a strange situation of …. nothingness.


What the heck else happened this month? Here are some tidbits.

One bright and sunny morning I woke up at 6:00 and had a lovely 90 minute, 20 mile leisurely bike ride into Kedougou. I got there, pumped up with my big fat “to do” list for the next couple of days: Funding research, having an in-depth conversation with my PC representative, talking about finding some interesting new jobs, looking into schools for my future, studying for the GRE, stuff to buy at the market.
Well, as I rolled in, Matt, another volunteer was packing up his bike. I asked him where he was going. He said something about a two day trip to the top of some spires on the top of some mountain that I've never been to before. He asked if I'd like to come.
Me: “What do you think I am? Free?” Wait a second...what is a PCV? A moment of silence. “Sure, ok. I'll go.”
One of the things on my list was to “de-stress.” While it was the one thing that I didn't think I'd be able to do, it was actually probably one of the most important at the time. So I went. All together there were three of us. Matt, Alan (my good friend), and me.

Physically, me going was probably not the best idea. It was really exhausting. I had been biking almost two hours every day and my legs were really tired that day. So I packed up and we left in the heat of the day. After 5 hours of biking (we went really slow, it was really hot) we got to Koboy, the village of a fellow volunteer, KC, who happens to live on the top of a mountain. There I pretty much passed out from exhaustion. Had I known what was in store for the next day I may have died on the spot. The next day was a million times more exhausting than the first day. We left at about 7:30am and went non stop until we got to the top of the spires, which was at about 3:30pm. We biked on top of the mountain from one side to the other. Up and down, stopping at several villages on the way, one of which being Fungolimbi, where another volunteer lives named Katie. While everything was probably breathtakingly beautiful, I felt like I was going to throw up and could not really breath properly. There was this one moment when the spires (our destination) came into view. Matt got really excited. I couldn't help but say “wow, those are really far away.” And off we went.


We went all the way to a village called Maribou. It is settled on top of the mountain just below where the hill is the leads to the spires. Some sort of luck was with us because we just happened to pass a forage (water source) right before ditching out bikes to hike UP. We filled up. It was probably about one kilometer from the end of the last peanut field to the top of the spires. We got there, looked up at those giant spires (so close!) and thought we were almost there.

Nope.

It probably took over 4 hours for us to get to where we wanted to be. Maybe thats because we didn't have a trail. We didn't really think of a direction to go. We just went. The grass was taller than us. The grass was seeding. Grass bites. There are plants mixed in with the grass that bites. There are bugs that live in the grass that bite.
There are rocks on the ground hiding under the grass that twist ankles and make you fall. We walked through this grass that we couldn't see above for a long, long time. Yuck. Then when we started going UP, the impenetrable bamboo forests showed up. That stuff is dangerous. And really impenetrable. Look here.

We ended up turning around a lot and looking for a new way up. We found random cliffs below the spires that made us change course. We finally got up to the base of the spires and realized we were on the wrong side of them, so we scaled the wide of the base and made our way up, eventually, to the top. We stopped by some baobab trees (I love those, a lot) and took some pictures.

I eventually stopped being tired. I was too tired to be tired. Then we got to the top and it was just absolutely breathtakingly amazing and …. perdy. We played. We explored. We sat quietly and watched the sun set. We ate corned beef sandwiches and Werther's Originals. We drank the last drops of our water. And we slept, under the stars, on the very top of the spires.

The way back? Peace of cake! We were already sliced to crap from bushwhacking and exhausted from walking and biking. We ran down that mountain, surprised women bathing at the forage by basically guzzling water right from the spicket (ok I may be exagurating). We basically carried our bikes down the mountain and then biked another 40 kilometers home. It only took about 7 hours with no breaks more than 5 minutes long. When we got home, we still didn't know how tired we were. But we were happy.

Another thing that happened this month. Two holidays. Thanksgiving for us Americans and Tabaski, the biggest holiday of the year for Muslims here.

Which brings up the subject of my family. My host family. They are in a tough spot this month. Tabaski is kind of like Christmas. It's a very, very materialistic holiday. In my village, everyone needs new clothes and new shoes and nice hair and wonderful food. Especially the women and kids. Everyone gets their nicest and cleanest and spends the whole holiday just being happy and beautiful and greeting people. Before Tabaski is here people spend a lot of time worrying about how they will get stuff. It's just what they do.
It's hard to explain the situation of my family in my village. I will say a simple version. My family currently has no income. Some stuff happened that caused some stuff to happen and then some stuff happened and they have negative nothing and their spirits were right down with all of that. And boy, living there, I was kinda dropping right down with them...... (maybe why I didn't stay there much this month?). Family is family, right? We kinda know each other really well, whether we are from the same culture or not. I'm telling ya, it was the holiday that topped off their moods. Damn materialistic things.
So some stuff happened. And some more stuff happened. And then some really bad stuff almost happened, like the climax of make or break, and then it was triumph. The triumph somehow solved all of the families problems but kinda made me a bit crabby.

I got to bring my sister to Kedougou for two days, just a few days before Tabaski. This is my bestest friend in the village. She lives quite a redundant life and more than deserved a couple of days for herself. It was an amazing cultural exchange and actually worked out quite well. We stayed in Kedougou at Fanta's house. Fanta is my friend, a local woman who is the same age as my sister but lives a completely different life. My sister is a villager, born and raised amongst a small population and thrown into marriage and motherhood at the age of 15. Fanta is a city girl, raised middle class (which in Kdg is “upper class”), dating guys, and about to graduate high school and applying for colleges overseas. These are my two best local friends. It's funny. People who live in the same country like this often don't really get to know each other. Fanta has never spent more than a couple of days in a village, and Dalanda, my sister has never really been in a situation where she just got to be friends with someone who was raised, well, away from a village.

Dalanda got a couple days of luxury. It was great. Fanta was with us the whole time. When we weren't shopping for clothes for the kids and mom and food for the family we were eating great food or meeting other Peace Corps volunteers, and then there were the 6 hours of waiting while Dalanda got her hair braided in the salon (every village girls dream, apparently). There were also lots of times when we just all three laid in bed, stared at the ceiling and talked about the different paths of life that have been put in front of us. I think this experience really got all three of us thinking. Don't yet know where those thoughts will go, but it was really amazing. The whole thing was really fun but I must say, really expensive for me, a volunteer. But my family was in a rough spot. The smiles on all of their faces on their biggest day of the year... whether or not I was in a good mood, were nice and made it worth it.

Thanksgiving. A lot of volunteers came and a LOT of food was cooked. It was just like last year. I was thankful once again for everything that is in my life, good and bad. It's all perspective really. Dalanda had gone back to the village by this day but I got Fanta to come and see our thanksgiving. She enjoyed it I think, and ate a little bit (she is usually terrified of what we cook).

Tabaski. Boy was I grouchy. While I loved the family's gracious “thank you”s and was glad to see them getting along in perfect harmony and smiling so much, I admit I was a bit of a party pooper. I couldn't help but feel frustrated that it was the “stuff” that seemed to have turned their moods. I kind of hid from Tabaski this year. Just another cultural frustration? Maybe. Maybe one I got a bit too involved in. But I'm still glad I did.

I guess I'll stop there. This was kind of long. Sorry about the lack of photos.
Until next time.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Yeeeeeeee haw!

A million hours of public transport. Yes. Thats what I've done. To Dakar and back. Twice. To and from my village. To other villages, days and days of driving. Almost died a million times. My family with me, almost dying a million times. But then, eventually, getting used to the feeling and realizing the here, when traveling, you just need to put your life in the hands of... well, whoever you think controls that sort of stuff. But if you are gonna travel, in wind blown dirty hot cars, you might as well travel in style, right?

My family came to visit! What a strange and wonderful experience to let two lives and two families collide. The whole experience was a bit overwhelming. So many things coming at me from so many angles. While it was happening I must admit I didn't quite know what exactly was happening. Now that it's over, now that it's the past, I can see what happened.
Boy was I sick when my family came! I hear amongst other volunteers that it's common for healthy volunteers to get sick right when their families come. Perhaps it's an inner excuse to get sick, with your real mom by your side worrying about you and trying to make you feel better. Could that be?
This is the sickest I have been since I had been here. It started out as a cold thing and Fever, body ache, non stop headache. Bleh. It started the day before the fam got here and finally ended 10 days later, two days before the family left. Just to clarify my state of mind for my sick days. I was like... blah. Fever every day fluctuating from 99 to 102.6 degrees,yet we were constantly on the go and I did my best to ignore it (probably not the best idea seeing as how I didn't treat it). Mom got so worried. My bro and his guy were so patient with my really bad mood. The people in my village thought I was being rude. The sickness finally ended with my brother diagnosing me (haha) with a sinus infection/flu after the headaches got so bad that I could barely function and I was so clogged up there I couldn't taste or smell a thing. Not to mention I almost lost my voice and couldn't talk without coughing all the time. Eventually got on meds, it went away.
Now the pretty part of their visit. What a wonderful experience! I had the logistics of the trip planned out to a tee. We spent most of the time in my region. I wanted them to meet certain people and have certain experiences, and they did. I worked out when to give them luxury, when to give them my “rouging it” experiences. We ate tourist food (clean food), and I coaxed them into the local foods as well (here is the family eating dinner in my hut). We spent 4 whole days in villages. We did a couple days in my village (with local transport, something exhausting that I wanted them to experience, which they would probably do a better job of describing because I'm so used to it). We spent a very difficult 2 days in my village. The stay in my village was actually the most difficult time for me of the whole trip, which is not what I would have expected. With my sickness and the pressure that all the villagers were putting on me, I almost went completely ins ane those days. For some reason I had this lovely image of the village welcoming my family, maybe giving them a couple of gifts, greeting them, and then letting us be to explore on our own. How wrong I was! My village is... well... not like that. The problem with my village is that everyone is dirt poor, people don't really work together as one, and there are 1200 people there that want individual attention. Yes, there were many wonderful people who came and greated my family. My host family was wonderful with my family. My closest friends in my village were wonderful to my family. Numusara, my best farmer gave us a chicken. He is a wonderful man. Everyone else greeted us non stop all day ever day. We were nervous about leaving the compound. Or should I say, I was nervous. We did eventually wander around and... AAAHHH!!! We only had a few households we wanted to visit. My favorite people and best friends and stuff. But nooooooo that wasn't going to happen. Apparently the word got out that my family was coming (even though my brother was trying to keep it discreet by only telling the village “leaders” and telling them to keep it secret so we wouldn't get bombarded with people expecting my family to throw them a party). People stopped us on the road non stop. People I kinda knew, people I know I've seen before and people I don't know and have never talked who who apparently know me. They all gave me endless crap! Every person kept saying they were mad at me and ashamed of me for not telling them that my family was coming. How dare I not stop at every single one of the 120 compounds and tell each of the 1200 residents that my family was coming and that we wanted to greet them!? Yes, I realized then and I realize now that this is the cultural thing to say for the locals that really means “hello, I am glad your family is here, I want to greet them too, welcome now give me a present,” But I could not stop getting frustrated with their critical method of delivery and I kept giving them the same apologetic/argumentative response until I wanted to scream and cry at the same time. Man, I had so many things I wanted to show my family and so many places in my village I wanted to take them, yet after one lap around one small area of my village I went home and we hid. We just hid. I must say, I was still strong for the small amount of circling we did do. We managed to get some pictures and they are lovely.
I hope the trip to my village wasn't quite as stressful for them. I mean, they didn't understand a word I was saying to anyone, seeing as how I was speaking Pular only. All they really needed to do was shake hands and reply “Jam tun” to everything anyone said.

Here is my fam posing w some local kids.


Below - my two families combines

A Land Cruiser driven by a retired French man named Bruno picked us up the following morning. The second I left my village a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. The fam lightened up too. We were going exploring (where no1 knew me, yay!!!). We had a two day excursion planned with Bruno and we would go to three villages and look at three different local “tribes” We explored the Basari culture first in the village of Etiolo (Ech-oh-low). There we stayed at a nice “campement” and had a tour of the scattered village and learned about the ways of life of the Basari. Each household is a 10-20 minute walk away from the other. This made the Basari very difficult to conquer during colonialism because .. well they couldn't group together the people. The way of life of the Basari is still very, very traditional. They are animists that have slightly converted to Christianism. One of the most fascinating parts of Basari culture is their male initiation ceremonies. There are three steps to “manhood” and they are all quite fascinating. If you want me to explain them, call my cell phone and we can have a long converstaion about that.

below-walking through Basari territory

We then visited Pular nation. Hell, Pular is everywhere, so that doesn't count. We really just went to Dindefelo and visited the waterfall. We got to go one a hike to the waterfall after a really, really exhausting car ride to get there. Man was I sick!

Family at the waterfall
Then we drove to our last destination, a village on top of a mountain called Angel (on-gel). This village is Bedik. The Bedik is another Christian animist “tribe” and there are only about 8,000 of them in the world (I think). They have their own language and culture as well, and we got to see a little bit of it after climbing up a mountain and seeing the cutest, most quaint village that I have ever seen.

Something funny about our trip... I've traveled wit my family before and we usually don't really buy anything. Here, it was different. We ended up with an entire suitcase full of souvenirs. I think it may be because I live here and I know what is good! We got a ton of hand made Basari and Bedik stuff like masks, statues, flutes, carvings and jewelry. I knew we were in the best place in the world to get hand made stuff, so I made them take advantage. Oh, and while we were in Kedougou I made my fam take advantage of Kedougou's unique fabric that comes from Guinea (the country to the south which generally makes really cool stuff). We got my fam some “indigo” fabric, exclusively found in kedougou (rare in other parts) and got them hand tailored, custom outfits. Lovely. This got my fam interested in local fabrics and we ended up taking several market trips to buy more kinds of fabrics just because it's perdy and possible to make things with them.

What else did we do. Hmmmm. Spent the rest of the time in cities. Man did we do a lot of shopping! We went to Tambacounda and I took a 7 hour nap (sick). No Shopping there. We went to Thies and went to the tapestry factory (great art investment), and then shopped in the market. Then we went to Dakar and spent one day touring things and the next day, at the market bargaining for souvenirs for almost a whole day. By the time we got to Dakar I was feeling a lot better. It just so happens, I love to shop in Senegal because I like haggling for prices. Dakar is, to me, the most difficult place to haggle... my kind of place!!! We spent hours circling and I got to argue with people and yell at people and refuse to pay and walk away and come back again until I gave myself a migraine and had to go take a break. But I loved it deep down. We got lots of cool stuff that I can't even start to list.
We went to Goree Island as well.. a really touristy place that used to be a port for slave transport. What a fascinating island with a great history. But For me, of course, I couldn't stop haggling. We had a boy fix my brothers shoes because he was looking for work. While we waited another boy came and fixed my bag and another fixed Bill's flip flops without him really wanting him to fix them. I'm telling you, people that need money and are looking for work are about 100x more pushy than a used car salesman. We let the kid fix my brothers shoes because he was cute and spoke Pular. Then another one came and then another. We stood there for like 15 minutes until they were done than my poor family stood there while I bargained with these kids for like 15 more minutes in Pular. Ha! The sales people on the island are ridiculous with their pricing! You know, white people usually pay what they think items would be worth in their country. And on this Island, and in a lot of places in Dakar, there area lot of white people that pay a lot, which makes the sellers think that all white people should pay a certain price and all black people should pay like 10% of that price. Take this crappy tshirt for example. Bill saw a shirt he liked that I know you can buy for 4 dollars in a normal market (or less if you really haggle). This man would not sell the shirt for less than 20 dollars and got furious with me for saying that his price was ridiculous. He gave me a 10 minute speech about why Bill should pay 20 dollars even though others can pay 4 dollars. All this while boys were fixing Sean's shoes. I listed to him light-heartedly and then basically go told him to take his 20 dollar shirt and shove it up his ass. The next day we bought the shirt in the market for 4 dollars.
So, my family had fun I think. I think also that I exhausted them with three main things, 1 – public transport., 2- The mood I get in when I'm sick and finally 3- my obvious obsession with bargaining with the locals. Oh dear. Sorry family!
The trip ended on a good note with a midnight ride to the airport followed by me returning to the hotel alone at 1:30 in the morning, feeling suddely so alone and consoling myself by watching prostitutes coming and going from cars on the corner of the road from my 6th floor balcony until I got sleepy and went to bed. The next day I did that painful 16 hour ride back to Kedougou.
Sorry this is so long! But.....
I've changed soooo much in the last 5 weeks. All I've learned in this first year in country was just solidified by my five weeks off circling all over the place. Camp, circling Dakar waiting for my family, leading my family frantically through a country they don't know... all of it together did something to me.
A whole bunch of things kind of just came together. What I'm doing here and what I'm capable of doing here. Before these 5 weeks I had some plans sketched out but I wasn't sure how I could really get things done. The path was a bit blurry. Now.... it's not. After dealing with all the stuff I dealt with, after running around like a chicken with it's head cutoff and dealing with locals that come from every aspect of life, now I can see the path to a goal a lot more clearly. This next year is looking to be pretty freaking awesome. Not at all calm, and not at all lazy. And not knowing what I'm doing? Bring it on! I'm ready! And perhaps I don't know as little as I think.

Ok I have to tell this funny story really quick because it happened, like, yesterday.
I have these Senegalese female friends. I met them at camp (we were counselors together). Well, now I have local friends in Kedougou and we do some pretty freaking awesome things together. The cultural exchange going on between my new city friends and my old village friends... are both enlightening yet very different.
My city gals are going to go far. They are aware of womens rights and are on their way to success! Yesterday I went to a big soccer game in Kedougou with Fanta and Sira, two of my pals. (Fanta on left, Sira on right)
Both of them were there to support their teams but also to get their diplomas for Red Cross first aide. I arrived with Fanta late to the game and we were faced with a line of hundreds of people waiting to get in. Fanta skipped the line with a few sentences and a bribe and got us seats that were great considering all the seats were taken. Then, during half time she drug me up to the Red Cross graduation ceremony thing that was being broadcasted on the radio and being filmed for the national news. All the Red Cross first aid graduates stood in a line facing the audience, and so did I. Fanta brought me a first aide vest so I could fit in. Sira said that I would get a diploma too, standing in for her sister, who was supposed to be there but was sick and at home. So I got filmed getting Red Cross diploma with all the other Senegalese graduates. Wow was that fun.
(me and Fanta)
(Fanta and Sira getting their cirtificates)
The whole time I really could not stop laughing, and I took lots of pics! Then we watched the rest of the game sitting right on the side of the field (amazing seats!). After that I went to Fanta's house and we cooked dinner (more like I stood there and peeled a cucumber while she cooked and laughed at my terrible knife techniques.)
Thats all.
I'm gong to bike back to my village again. Got this garden project thing I'm working on...
till next time!

Friday, October 9, 2009

Campish

I must say, there is nothing quite like a hat that keeps out everything. Say you are hot and want to sit under a waterfall....

Anyway, hello out there to whoever is reading this! Are you still following me after over a year of being away from home? If so, wow. I'm impressed. If not, you probably aren't reading this right now, right? Well maybe they are.
Anyway, back to business. I'm in Dakar! I'm with a friend, a fellow PCV that I randomly met and we randomly stumbled into this random luxurious hotel and asked them if we could use their wireless Internet and they said yes. Yay for black leather couches and cold drinks!
So I have just had an amazing few weeks. Two great things have happened. First of all, I spent 10 days involved in a week-long Summer Camp for the youth of Kedougou. I had been aware that I would be involved with this camp for a whole year. Heck, I even planned my family's visit around this camp, because I felt like I should be involved. Yet, knowing that I would be involved doesn't mean that I knew what I was getting involved with. I admit that all I really did was put the time aside, without really knowing what to expect.
The camp turned out, in my opinion, to be amazing. I've been spending this whole year learning first hand the paths and the obstacles to helping people and helping with the tedious “one step forward, two steps back” task of development. So, the camp to me was yet another PC project that I would learn something from and maybe help out a bit.
But what a great week! It turns out that this was the second year that the camp held place. One of the biggest problems with starting projects is trying to turn them into something sustainable. Something that will last beyond our short presence and continue to help the population after we are no longer a part of it. The camp is on it's second year now with a good plan that will hopefully make it last for many years and produce man leaders.
So summer camp doesn't exist here. There is a summer vacation but when out of school there is no time to play. In fact they usually spend their summers with their families helping with the laborious task of farming and keeping up with house work So for them the idea of going to a camp to have fun and meet new friends and play with tubabs is great to them. So that is what we did. We had two groups of kids, one group of first-year campers and one group of second year campers, and we threw a summer camp!
The camp took place in Dindefelo, a village popular for tourists because of it's beautiful waterfall and mountains, and weekly lumo. There were about 10 Senegalese camp counselors and maybe 7-10 PCVs running camp. We had agreements with the town and the campement where we stayed and lots of other people. We then spent a week together doing many activities. There were fun activities and learning activities, both of which ended up being fun. I was responsible for the Agroforestry activity. I did a pepeniere and outplanting activity for the first year campers and a grafting activity for the second year campers. After my activity I spent the rest of the week helping with other activities, which included many kinds of sports, teamwork games, scavenger hunts, art,
races,
soccer, food sustainability courses, gender and development,
career day,
and even a human rights course. The human rights course was just a lecture but was intense because the campers and the counselors (often teachers) started a heated debate about the right of a teacher to hit a student. Then of course there were the hikes, both to the waterfall and to the top of the mountain where there were amazing viewpoints, tops of waterfalls and caves.

The next amazing thing that happened. Well, I don't know if it is amazing. I went to Dakar. I haven't been out of the Kedougou region now for almost 8 months. Talk about a homebody! I'm in the capital of the country and I don't know my way around at all! I'm a bit ashamed but then again, there is nowhere to go but up! I've been wandering around a lot these last few days, trying to get a feel of the city so I can lead my family around when they come. Oh and they get here tomorrow evening, how exciting! We have plans to go straight to Kedougou off the plane. We will spend a couple of days in Kedougou, hen they will take my “auto lumo” to my village where they will spend two nights meeting my villagers and looking at some of the work I've done. Then I have a driver picking us up who will lead us on explorations of basari, bedik and pular villages for a couple of days. After that we will slowly make our way back up to Dakar, stopping a couple places on the way to see the sights. We will end the stay with a few days to explore Dakar.
Ok, I'm tired and I have places to be and monkeys to groom!

Until next time.

Friday, September 18, 2009

I'm alone in the execution line of a laser tag game.

Hello! Thought I would write a quick blog just because.
It's been a clusterfuck. Maybe it's the year volunteer thing. All kinds of things pouring in on all different sides.

I thought I'd be having a down moment in my village work wise, with all the tree planting done. Instead, something threw me into a whirlwind of different “jobs” coming in at all angles. It's then that you start realizing your limitations, your strengths, your weaknesses, and realize it's time to sort all that crap out or just get the hell out (sorry, had to say that cuz it rhymed). So, I've been playing my hand in starting up some new projects and seeing if it really is possible to get something done in a village that has a rather unique esprit. But the obstacles just keep coming in every angle and now I can't sleep!

So that is just my village. Lots of other things happening. A sort of change of pace for me. I'm going to be leaving my village for 5 weeks. I haven't been gone from my village for over 5 days in over 7 months! Yes, was being a homebody but boy do I know how my village works, vraiment!
What will I be doing for five weeks?

I'm going to be helping with a “summer camp” for girls for a week. I'm going to Dakar to take my mid-service exam (required) and have a few days off waiting for my family to get here. I'm going to pick up my family in Dakar and travel around with them for two weeks (we will go to my village for a couple of days, so I suppose I'm not “technically" gone for 5 weeks...but come on...). Then I'm going to slowly make my way back to my village.

Yay, my family is coming! Well, to be more specific, it's my mom, my brother and his guy. All amazing people. I've traveled with them many times but this is the first time that I get to make the itinerary. It's the "Sheila" test for how well I can plan a trip. Yay! Though I do have some obvious advantages seeing as how they are coming to visit me in my home.

Through all this stuff I've been doing another thing that all Peace Corps volunteers tend to go though. I've been thinking of potential paths to follow when my service is over. I've been considering things from grad school to hobo traveling, to organic chicken and pig farming on an uninhabited island, to getting a job, and thought about living in just about every country of the globe and every corner of the states as well. Oh and you can't forget the prospect of staying in your village for the rest of your life and becoming the third wife to a one-eyed, toothless old man and providing him with many children.
Well, especially after that last image, I've been driven to do some personal career counseling (Yes, I'm my own therapist... thats the way it is here), and have been surfing the internet lots and I think I found a future path!!!! It's like magic! It hit me like a light! It iluminated and then exploded right on top of my head! It all fits together and I can now see the light at the end of the tunnel that begins my next chapter in life! My future is....
To be continued (aka these paths change every day)... Hehe.

So I've been here about a year now. It's a great feeling. I kinda feel like I just recently started to really be ready to do some work while actually knowing what I'm doing. Prospects for this next year are bright, yet busy and evidently frustrating as well. I'm excited!
Because that year mark has arrived, that means there are new volunteers coming into our Kedougou mixture! In fact, they just visited us for a couple of days. We have four new girls and three new guy volunteers that will be installed into their villages in about a month. How exciting!




Ok, thats all. I didn't take many pictures recently. Just a few on a rainy day. Here ya go.

Oh and this little guy... he is a "bug" that has been living in my room for a couple months now. We have a symbiotic relationship. He eats bugs and never bothers me, and I let him hide under my trunk. we meet every single day when I sweep under the trunk, and he just kindly moves out of the way while I sweep, then goes back under the trunk when I'm done. Here he is on my bed. haha!

bye bye

Monday, August 31, 2009

Frustrating, Lovely, Mysterious.

I've had a couple of people who know me here read my blog and come up to me and say “Gee, Sheila. I read your blog and it's amazing (of course!) but you really butter up your time here to make it sound so, well, beautiful. Why didn't you talk about all that crap you were going through in your village or how you've been so frustrated at people these past couple months?”
And my reply is all simple. This blog is public. While there are plenty of frustrations and problems and obstacles, those are mine to work through, and through all of those frustrations I am still accomplishing things, and you guys usually end up getting the end product, which is usually quite wonderful.
The truth is, sometimes it's easy to be grouchy in your village. I could probably admit that if you talked to people that know me in my village they would say that “Careful when going up to her, these days her tongue has been on fire!”
But why? Why be frustrated with your life and work in your village and in turn with the people in your village? The answer is easy! It's life! You are an American, alone in a village coming from a completely different background and you are trying to live and get things done at the same time, and sometimes, doing both of that can be hard! And it's well known for Peace Corps agroforestry volunteers that you can aim for 100% and work your butt off and only get a 10% success rate. Just imagine those constant letdowns in your daily life and add people walking up to you every day and asking for a present. ROOOAR!!! Sometimes you just gotta put that foot down. Haha.
Here's an example. This farmer guy, a guy who really talks up his desire, made a mango pepeniere. It's time to plant. Doesn't planting trees sound lovely? Ok, so you go to his house and set up a plant date and he stands you up five times, telling you each day to come back the next day. Then you finally catch him and he hasn't prepared a damn thing and you end up carrying all the trees he planted and the digging tools to his field for him. And then he plants a couple of trees and leaves the rest to his assistant while he goes and does other things. Then you find out that all the mangoes he planted are seeds from grafted mangoes, which you aren't supposed to plant. Everything you say to him about how far to plant tree from each other and why you should plant local seeds instead of grafted seeds goes in one ear, past his smiling, nodding head, and straight out the other ear. You ask him to repeat what you said and he says something in the realms of “you had porridge for breakfast.”


Ok, enough of that. Lots of cool stuff going on. Lets talk about my success! I guess I could add a few frustrations, just to add the yang to the yin, yaknow.
Trees are planted! We planted about 20 in the post de sante.
I planted (tried for 5 days to organize students to help me but failed) 25 trees in the school yard. My 6 year old brother helped, and my 2 year old sister and 3 and 5 year old neighbor boys came as well, so it was more like babysitting.




Lots of mango pepenieres were planted, which I will still need to follow up on. I ended up with a lot of extra trees and not much time left to plant so I tied a big bucket on the back of my bike, filled it with baby trees and circled the village several times giving trees out. It turns out that that is a great way to get trees planted. I gave about 30 nebadie trees (healthy leaves) to the womens group. I gave flamboyants (a perdy tree non-existant in my vill) out to people who live by the main road, and lots of other trees to random people. And I'm relatively sure these people are planting these trees. It's so easy to plant one or two at your house or field and take care of it. Then you get to tell everyone that you got a tree from Jenaba Jallo (me!)
I love my best farmer. His name is Numusara. He is like a grandpa to me. He always offers me things and never asks for a thing. Every time I show up at his house or field he is so happy. If my dog tags along and gets into ruckus and I try to control him tells me that my dog is fine (like eating his food, chewing on one of his baby trees.
On the professional side, it's nice having that ultimate farmer. The one that if you're feelin frustrated you can just go to and realize that you have a purpose! All you have to do it go to his field and he will lead you around and show you all the trees he has planted along his fence, and the papayas he has transplanted, or where he is going to plant next, etc. he goes on and on talking about the work he wants to do, and it's all great! Instead of you telling him what he could do with his field, he says, "just wait until the next time you come! I'll have cleared this whole section of the 10ft tall straw and have planted corn and 20 more papaya trees and manioc!" Anyway, I got a photo shoot with this guy. There was this time when he was leading me through some nasty grasses and my flip flop kept breaking and he tried to get me to use his shoes. Awe aint that sweet. And one great thing about now, is that my farmer is really happy! He has a lot of new grafted mango trees, and the grafted on brenches are sprouting!
So I brought my camera to Numusara's field yet again and realized that I didn't have a good pic of him and or course he welcomed my request to take pics, and even posed. Here is him beside one of his grafted mango trees (his baby!), and his thriving banans, which he is the only one in my village with bananas!



Lalala. Bleh. I don't feel like writing a blog so I'm just going to talk about nonsense .

It's Ramadan. That month where people fast. They don't eat or drink while the sun is out. If you want to know the insane reasoning behind it, or how it effects people's work and mood and strength and attitudes on life, give my cell phone a call and we will have a several hour conversation.
I'm trying to fast while I'm in my village but it's hard. I did it for two days successfully but on the third day I got in my hut after 3 hours of plantin peanuts and was real thirsty. I was alone in the household, alone in my hut, tired, sweaty, and starting me smack dab in the middle of my face was a bottle of water. Just me and it. I drank and felt guilty. It was over.

Um. yeah I've been talking a lot about farming and farming is still happening. It's my favorite spare time activity. Dalanda, my sis has her own corn and peanut field and I've franchised 50% of it. It's half mine. Well she gets all the goods but I get to do 50% of the labor. Yay! So I'm bent over planting or weeding several hours a day. I love it. It's a great work out and I love all the blisters I get on my hands and the insane rashes I get on my arms and endless ant-bites I get from working bare-footed. But all sarcasm aside, going to the fields is my favorite part of the day. It's peaceful, it's a great workout and you don't feel like you are living such a different life from them locals.
I'm trying to find different ways to approach working with the womens group so I went and worked with them on their funyo field for 4 hours. I got to hear them talking about they way they work without them smiling and nodding at me.



I told my sister, Dalanda I'd give her 2,000cfa (4 dollars) if she caught a bird with her bare hand. So she did. Then she tied it to a string, pulled out it's flight feathers and gave it to her son to play with. I sat and watched the whole “caught a bird” culture and watched the bird die a rather terrible death. Such is the way I have been learning culture these days. Which, by the way, cultural learning just don't stop, no matter how long you stay in a place. No more dares like that for me! Those birds are kinda like pests though. She caught it while it was stealing her corn she had set out to dry.


Now for the mysterious. One of my sisters that lives in my village has had a strange yet serious illness for the past months. I've always known her as the 25 year old sister that lives about 10 compounds down who comes over every day. She has a great husband and 4 kids. I see her every day in my life in the vill.
Here is her illness and her situation. Keep in mind that I'm do doctor! At the time I had the village bystandards perspective!
She had a kid that was stillborn. She went back to work the day after, recovering normally. A week later she complained of a massive headache and stomache ache, and got sick. She laid down and didn't get back up. She stopped eating and stopped talking. Day by day she lost her brain. She layed there and moaned saying over and over “ohhhh, mom, whats happening to me?” (her mom never left her side, and still hasn't). Then she stopped talking all together. She stopped having any recognition in her eyes what so ever. She could no longer control her body. She couldn't sit up, she couldn't walk, she couldn't talk. She just laid and stared. And made faces of pain. Everyone in the village said she went crazy. Her mom and kids and husband would go into the room and ask if she knew them and she would grunt “no.” She could only lay down, roll over, and grip something, like a hand.
The village nurse refused treatment without money. After money was found he made a diagnosis and didn't tell anyone what it was, just put her on a bunch of meds. I asked my brother and he said she was put on anti malaria meds, glucose, antibiotics and something to increase the blood.
She is slowly recovering. I was worried. I watched my perfectly sane sister lose her sanity. She reminded me of a vegetable that can't to anything and knows nothing. Now she eats. Now she is getting some recognition in her eyes. Slowly. She still can't control her body and can't talk.
So I looked it up online after I got back to Kedougou and I know what it is. So now am I doctor? No! But I realize how much online medical information can change a life. No one in the village has a clue what she has, even my brother, who is the medical assistant! The nurse knew what it was and did the treatments then told the family to call in an Imam to get her brains back an Imam is a Muslim magical healing man, very popular in village illnesses, I've heard lots of stories of their magical healing abilities
according to Google my sister has Cerebral Malaria, a strain of malaria that occurs in 20-50% of malaria cases. In Cerebral Malaria something stops blood flow, and deprives the brain of oxygen. This can cause all kids of problems but only in rare cases does it cause “cerebellar ataxia,” which I looked up on Wikipedia, which is what my sister has. It basically puts you in brain vegetable state without being in a coma. It's like your brain is in a coma (can't do anything, move or think) but you don't lose consciousness. According to the website, the craziness last 4 weeks and goes away withing 1-2 weeks after treatment. So should she heal, which would be a miracle to these people and I know, would be credited to the Imam!
I was really scared for my sis. I watched her brain die, and hopefully will see it come back to life. I'm glad I looked that up!
Ok, enough for now. Keep livin!