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.
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.
