How much can one say about so little?

I haven't posted a photo of my dog in a while, so I took one just for this post. Not to mention he recently celeebrated his birthday (He and someone else..). My dog, Hendu, is now one year old. Everyone wish him a happy birthday.


I did some pondering in my village a few days ago and for some reason I suddenly felt a bit of a tragedy inside of my head, and it had to do with America.

Ok, it's not what you think. I didn't freak out. I wasn't angry or frustrated. I neither loved nor hated America or the fact that it was far away.

What I realized is how long I've been blogging, and how I probably haven't really managed to capture one “real” village moment to share with you all (whoever is reading this..). I'm supposed to be representing the Peace Corps Experience, right? Why then, am I blogging once every 2-4 weeks and just talking about a bunch of general stuff, or cutesy random stuff, or super duper accomplishments?

Thats not all the peace corps is! Here we have to live. Day by day, second by second. If I asked you now what it is that I “do,” when I'm in my village, would you be able to answer? Probably not! What actually happens is a lot of really adorable moments, a lot of fascinating cultural exchange, a bunch of nothing, and a lot of laying around when it's hot outside. But this is me being general. So here we have it.

A whole day. Wake up to sleep. No yesterday, no tomorrow. Keep in mind, every day is different. I've done a lot more than this, and a lot less. Enjoy the ride. Try not to fall asleep.

Oh, and I'll only post pictures that I took that day ;)
The day is Sunday Feb 21, 2010

I slept in a bit this day, maybe until 8:30 but I stayed in bed until 9:00 simply because the temperature was comfortable. I knew it would get hot soon, and I knew that if I moved around I would just get hotter sooner. When I got out of bed I realized that there was a mouse in the trap that my brother had mailed to me. Yes! That is the fourth mouse in 2 days! I grabbed that mouse out of the trap and chucked it out to somewhere behind my backyard. I did my morning douche duties and walked out my front door to get breakfast.

My sister, Dalanda was out of town. This is the first day in all my service that she wasn't in my village the same day that I was. Oh well, one day certainly can't hurt. I walked to the little “store,” about a 60 second walk from my house with Hendu, my dog following proudly behind. I caught Hudi, the store owner, sitting outside of the shop reading out-loud in Arabic. As I approached him he stopped reading, looked up, and greeted me warmly, as he always does. I asked for my usual Vitacafe and biscuits (powdered coffee flavored milk and small cookies), and he said he had biscuits but no vitacafe. I bought the biscuits from him for about .12 cents and left them there to buy my coffee, about .28 cents, at the next store down. I didn't want to walk into the store carrying what I had just bought from his competitor. So, I walked the 50ft to the neighboring boutique and bought my coffee drink. I went back to get my biscuits, then went home, Hendu following me the whole time.

When I got back I chucked the food on my bed and went to water my young mango trees with the water I had collected from showering the night before. Then I went inside to make my luke-warm coffee drink with biscuits dumped in. This is what I have for breakfast every day in the village... it's the closest thing I can get to having cereal and milk and it's sweet. Yay...

Just as I was about to start eating, a woman named Fatou called my name from outside. I waited again to be sure it was me she was calling, and when it was I moaned a bit, put my food down and went out of my hut. Fatou is a woman in the garden group who occasionaly sells deep-fried dough to me, when she makes it. Today she had come just to say hello I guess, so I just went with it. I shook her hand and sat down beside her. She said she was waiting for the meeting that was supposed to happen at the school and thought she may as well greet me. Ok then.. I asked her how the garden group was going and she said fine but the women fight all the time. She said the cabbage won't make apples because the women are watering them wrong. She said she tried to tell them how to water them but nobody listened. I told her I'd go have a look later. I realized that I didn't know Fatou very well so I asked if she had a husband. She said she used to, but is divorced because they fought all the time. We sat in silence for a couple minutes as I watched a few of our chickens fighting over the body of a dead mouse. Gee, I wonder where they found that (waste not...) Then, after a few more minutes of small talk, she just got up and walked away.

I went and ate breakfast. Then I did a bit of exercises to get those endorphins going. At about 10:00 I walked outside to go look at my three garden groups.

The first group visit was brief. I went, greeted the women, and took a few pics of the gardens. I had been over a month since I had taken pictures of it. Now the garden was huge.





I mentioned to the women that they should put stakes in their tomatoes and thin their carrots. Look at those carrots!


I was going to spend more time there but a woman named Woori grabbed me to take me to the second garden. She was wanting me to see it. This garden had also improved a lot in the past month.




When we got there we has a long chat.

I'm about to tell you an entire conversation. You might think I am writing too much detail. But I'm teaching you, really. This is a moment; A precious moment. A long conversation with a hard working, strong, African village woman, and a member of my group. Woori is the president of the women of this particular group. I talked to these people all the time. I mean ALL the time. This is quite a typical conversation. The favorite thing of the women members to do when they get me one on one is to complain about the other women, and state why their group it better than the others.

Woori started by showing me her onions.


Then started explaining to me the difference in organization between her group and the first group, and how her group's organization was better than the other's because it doesn't allow women to be lazy. In the other group, a group of women are responsible for watering the entire garden which allows for women to just ditch their water duties and not go. But in her group, they had given each woman the responsibility for one plot,and if they didn't water it, it would die and the other women would know. That is bad. And as for those selling the vegetables, she said, her group was also more organized. The first group had about 4 people who were designated to sell everything, not giving the other women a chance to have their hand in selling. But Woori's group, each woman sold what was in her plot.
Woori was proud of her group's organization. “And don't even get me started on that third group!” She exclaimed. “They have nothing! It's as if the women there are too tired to water and for that, everything is dead!

It was nice listening to Woori's opinions. In fact, it's nice listening to any woman's opinions even though they are often more critical than they are productive. She had her say, so I counteracted it with mine.
“As for the first group,” I replied, “You are right, they aren't very well organized. But just yesterday they did something to change that. In fact last night they woke me up at 10:30pm to take me to their group meeting. There they discussed selling the salad, why women aren't showing up to water, and they confronted who hadn't been paying their weekly sum. All of their issues were brought out on the table and this morning, I don't know if you saw, everyone was working very well together.
Of course Woori agreed.
“As for the second group,” I explained, The garden isn't dead because the people are tired of watering. The problem is that the people are tired of watering because the garden keeps dying. There it's not the people that is the problem, it is the soil.”
“They didn't put enough manure on it,” she snapped.
“They put lots of manure on it,” I said, “but that wasn't enough. The soil is ill. There are no vitamins left. I'm going to help them learn how to heal their soil.” I said.
“How?” she asked.
“Compost,” I replied. “Thats when you take food trash, dry leaves and green leaves, put it in a pile, and take care of it until it becomes like earth. If you do that, your soil will be happier.
“Oh yeah, we know what that is,” exclaimed Woori.
“If you guys know what it is, why don't you ever do it?” I asked
“People don't work together like that,” she replied
“Well maybe if I bring someone from Kedougou who can teach them and make them do it, then maybe they will work together, and maybe they can organize themselves a bit,” I said. “If someone comes from Kedougou, a professional, the people will listen.”
“Is it only for that group? I want to go to,” said Woori.
“It will be held in their garden because their dirt is the worst,” I said. “But I'll bring a couple of people from each group to attend so he can organize it in his own plot,” I replied.
Woori was happy.

After that we discussed my sister Dalanda and her place in the family. Woori is Dalanda's big sister.

I then said goodbye to Woori as I made my way to the third garden group.

I never actually made it to the garden, because it's practically all dead. I know what it looks like because I had just been yesterday. Today I just went to the “store” that the group leader owns. There I find the group leader and a few other members. I greet them.

Before I sit there I bypass the “store” to greet Numusara, my best farmer. I had an agenda with him this day as well; I wanted to ask him about his well diggers. Numusara was sitting under a mango tree with three other old men, including the old man, Yero, who is one of the most influential and feared men in my village. Old men in my village... you never know what to expect but the norm is that they want to marry you. I got the googly smile from the first two men I shook hands with, the kind smile from Numusara, and the devious smile from Yero.
“Aren't you married yet?” asked Yero.
I haven't talked to this guy in months. I don't trust his underlying intentions so I don't go out of my way to see him, and he has kind of given up on me because he has realized that I will not help him obtain any kind of power. We live in close quarters though, so we still get along.
Numusara is like my grandfather. He protects me and helps me any time he can. He replies before I even open my mouth.
“She isn't married and doesn't want to be. Leave her alone.”
“No way, she has a man, I know this,” exclaimed Yero, squinting his one eye and grimacing at me with his one tooth, trying to see if I'd lie or not.
I know this man and I know his game, so I respond accordingly, “I'm not going to tell you whether I have a boyfriend or not,” I replied. That is for me to know, not you.” And as for marriage, I won't even consider it until I'm done studying. I will not work for a man until I have what I want. In fact, maybe I will have a boyfriend while I study and we will visit each other and spend time together and if I like him maybe I'll marry him when I'm done studying. Thats what we do in America, actually. We marry our boyfriends, not strangers. That way, we can get to know him and know that we want to stay together for the rest of our lives.”

Note to reader- conversations with villagers are always bullshit. You don't tell them real stories about you, you just don't. Why? Do they ever offer details of their married lives? I don't think so. All they want is to marry you themselves. So my replies are kind of like a “fable” of something I kinda of want to passive aggressively say to them. And it's always put into a context that they can understand Can you see the hidden message in my words?

“Oh, really?” Said Yero. He pondered for a while and then nodded. “Then he translated it into better Pular for the other men sitting there.
“In America, they marry their boyfriends! Yero exclaimed!”
“Oh yeah, maybe thats a good idea,” said the older man. “That way you can know if you like them or not before you marry them. That way if you have problems you find out soon and don't have to marry them.”

Note to reader-In village life, there are boyfriend and husbands. Boyfriends are hidden. They are forbidden affairs that happen out of wedlock, or they are used as passionate and transactional affairs to some married people. The parents are never informed and the discreet couple only shows affection for one another at night under the protection of trusted friends. They can love each other much more than husbands or wives, who are often chosen by the parents and quite often are people who barely know each other, and maybe don't even like each other!
Whatever.

I changed the subject to wells. I looked right at Numusara and asked if he had talked to his well diggers. He explained to me that he changed his mind about who he wanted to dig, that there was someone in another village, Hamadi Heri, that he wanted to dig for him. I asked when the meeting would be. The men advised me that I probably shouldn't go to the meeting because if the well differ saw me, he would immediately think that I was the one financing this well and would raise the price. I agreed and we decided to send my brother to go to the meeting who would then explain the price to me. Numusara said that he would go see them tomorrow and then come to my house to give me the news. Then Yero said that I was a good volunteer, and had brought much to the village.

Then I went to talk to the third garden group. I've had lots of problems communicating with this group. Usually when I say something, nothing happens. Thats because when I talk the leader, Nikola, just stares at the ground and never even acklowledges what I say. I don't think he understands me. Thats a problem, right? Today my strategy was to just ask a question and then listen, and then maybe put it some suggestions that would spark conversation about what I wanted them to talk about and then they would think that they came up with some ideas for stuff. Haha. That worked, kinda.

Nicolas started by telling me that my first payment was ready. I told him great, that as soon as he gave that to me he could keep the materials at his place, not at mine. Then I asked him what was wrong with the garden. He told me that the garden wasn't too bad, but there were problems with the earth, and a bit with the watering. I asked him if his well was going to dry out, because it looked a little bit low. He said that if it did dry out he would dig again. I don't doubt that he will do that.
We talked about compost. With the help of Numusara who came over to translate (which is funny because Numusara doesn't speak any French, he just manages to understand my poor Pular and can translate it into good pular, while Nikolas often has no clue what I'm saying), we explained what compost could do and how there was someone very intelligent and professional who was willing to come and hold a formation right in his own garden group. Nikola was very excited about this. The idea of having a professional formation in his own land made him very happy.
Then I listened to the men again. They talked about all sorts of stuff. Farming, tractors, machines that shelled peanuts and corn. Then Nikola asked me if we could plant some mangoes this upcoming tree season. That was my signal to introduce my new project without too much imposing it.
“Yes, mangoes! Tree season is coming you know. I was thinking, if you had water, we could to a group in your tree nursery and maybe even sell mango and orange trees to the other villagers.”
Of course Nikola liked this because selling things means money. He agreed.
“Oh, and there is another tree project I was hoping to start.”
Everyone just looked at me, quietly.
“Do you guys know what Jatropha is? I asked them.
“I know what it is,” exclaimed one guy. “Its a tree that makes gas. People buy that stuff.”
Ok.
So I had a discussion with them about Jatropha. It was them talking just as much as me, and by the time I got up every single one there wanted to plant Jatropha around their houses and fields.
That was the first time I had talked about that with these people. Actually, this is the month of late February/early March. It's time to start introducing tree projects that I want to do. If you introduce ideas too early they forget. If you do it too late they don't learn enough. Its just about the time now to get their brains turning. So now, every few days I will come to this place, spend time with them, and make them tell me how much trees will benefit them. Haha.

I have my reasons for planting what I'm planting, but they aren't ready for those ideas yet. Not really. What I think the trees will do for them they might not want. So I'm seeking their ideas as well. The idea of fencing in houses, for example. Only about 30% of my village does it.
There ideas: Jatropha makes gas. Gas makes money. Fencing is the house is good because animals can't get in. Cows don't eat it. But why a live fence? They don't really know.

My ideas. Fencing the house is a great idea because cows and sheep and goats come in from all angles and sneak into the kitchen and try to steal any food they can get. You can't leave your water bucket on the table unsupervised for one second because a cow WILL drink it. It's a danger for kids as well. Last year 4 stampeding donkeys went galloping crazily through our compound, crossing right over the front porch 3 times. That front porch is where my 2 year old sister often sits. Had she been sitting there at that moment, she would have been trampled. Why a live fence instead of a fence made of cut down trees? Cut down trees rot and termites eat them. They need to be replaced every few years, and they fall over. A live fence plants trees rather than cutting them down, and any reduction in chopping trees is a good thing. You will have a LIVE fence post that last forever and ever. Also, they are green, they are pretty. They can sell the seeds for about .50 cents per kilo.
The end.

Before heading toward home Numusara took me to his house and gave me about 7 pounds of bananas. I asked him how his grafted trees were and asked if he would be interested in teaching a grafting formation in August in his field for our villagers. He said he would be willing, and that I work too much, that August was far away.

I went home.

It was only about noon. I went home to get my phone so I could go back out and look for a signal to send some text messages to work partners. On my way out I was caught by Matar, a young man I've known since my first day in the village. We have a like/hate relationship. We had a 30 minute debate on the right and wrong treatment of my brother at the job he had recently left. I won this debate and went on my way.

I found a signal in a dried up corn field, 8 feet to the left of a diagonal foot trail, standing in the middle of a pile of dry cow poop to get the strongest signal.

It was about 12:30. I was done with the day. Nothing else to do, not really. Thats fine, it was hot!!
I went into my backyard and wrote a bunch of stuff and read a lot. When they called me for lunch I was caked in sweat from doing nothing, and almost asleep.

Lunch was couscous.

After lunch I was feeling lethargic. The hottest time of the day is 12:00-4:00 and it was about 2:00. Omar, my brother and Fatou, my favorite 2 year old baby, and a goat herder were sitting under the mango tree. Omar invited me to join them. The goat herder left. Just me and Omar and Fatou. We struck up a conversation. We ended up talking for about two hours about Omars marriage issues. Boy was it interesting. But that info is for me :P

Fatou went poop on the ground and Omar went to go wipe her butt and clean up the poop because he was the only one at the house. Normally that is the mom, or any woman's job. Omar is a really good dad.

I decided to go find a signal again. I was corresponding with a couple of people about work stuff. Honest. So, I invited Fatou to come with me and she agreed. That little gal held my hand the entire time and cried when I tried to get her to go play with the kids at her grandma's house so she didn't have to stand in a pile of poop with me. She wanted nothing to do with those other kids and hit them when they approached her. She wouldn't let go of my hand. I knew that she missed her mom, who was in Kedougou for the day. So Fatou came with me and so did her bigger sister, Jenaba. We all three stood in a pile of poop while I sent a couple more text messages. Then we all three walked back home.

I went into my backyard and Fatou and Jenaba came with me. I sat in my hammock reading and they played on my cot. Then Hassana came in. Hassana is the cutest 2 and a half year old baby in the whole world! With the three of them I opted to give them some attention rather than read. I had gotten an “Edward Cullen Puzzle Ball,” in a Christmas package and I let them play with it They liked it as a ball but freaked out when I started to take it apart. Then the girls were called out of my yard so they could get their baths. Hassana left with them, but in a couple of minutes Hassana came back into my yard, carrying his shoes. He put them on the ground and hopped on to my cot. He had never been in my backyard alone before, so I embraced the moment and got my camera. I took a couple pics and a video of us goofing around. What kind of goofing around? I was teaching him to smile on command for the photo, which he got good at.


Then I took a video and got him to mimic other things :).



Hassana left and I read until it was too dark to read.

Then I took a bucket bath, then I watered my mango trees.

I did what I usually do between bathing and dinner. I laid in my bed in my pitch black hut and started to doze off. Yes, I nap every day in my village before dinner. But only in my village, nowhere else. While falling asleep I often ponder my many identities and possible lives, past, present and future. Perhaps that is why I doze off.

Instead of being waken by my dinner call, I was waken by a moto, and the voice of my sister. Dalanda had returned! Of course I jumped out of bed to greet her. We had a nice warm greeting and I sat with her in her room with her kids as she pulled out the presents she had gotten them. A new pair of shoes for Usuman, a pair of underwear for Jenaba, a small; cup for Fatou, and an orange for the three kids, and me. Yes, she got me an orange. What a nice sister. We talked about her experience in Kedougou and then her husband, who had been out, came in to greet her as well.

Dinner was plain rice with oil and spices. Yum.....

After dinner I chatted with my sister for about 30 minutes then went into my room and read until I fell asleep.

Well thats all that I have to share. Now I'm wondering why the heck I decided to do this. Who wants to know this many details of anyones day? Ha! Oh well, I just spent hours on this thing, so here ya go!

Hail Mr Blanders, who will soon be a daddy.



Until next time!

A bit of a lot of stuff

I believe I have just spent about five weeks doing two rotations on a rather large ferris wheel. One it was just me and a friend alone in the same car on a medium sized ferris wheel, and the other, me with my own car but all the other cars filled with other Peace Corps volunteers Seem a bit bizarre? keep reading.

Yes, I've been taken on many rides. While moments flew and moments drug, each rotation was in full. There was a start, a middle and an end. There were high points, low points, and lots of in between.

Geezuz, what is with these metaphors? I have no idea why I say corny stuff like that.

To start out where I left off on this blog... My face was still swollen from the bee stings when I arrived in Dakar but it went away pretty darn fast. By the time Sarah arrived at the airport my face was pretty much back to normal size. Aside from almost going to pick her up a day early, everything went fine. She arrived well before dawn and I was greeted by the normal people harassing us at the airport. I had already been through this when my family came to visit.

This time I had only one visitor. She is named Sarah (which you might have noticed from above), and I have known her now for only a couple of years. We actually met in France when I studied abroad in 2006/2007.

here we are in France in 2007

We were together for a semester and have stayed in touch ever since. If I were going to have a visitor from the states, she would be my top choice! Sarah speaks great French, has a huge interest in international travel, and wants to help people. That and she works with African refugees full-time where she lives in Pittsburgh. What a great opportunity for her to experience a culture that may resemble what her refugees have come from.

Sarah had two weeks to spend in Senegal. She had told me that she was considering joining the Peace Corps so I kind of wanted to give her the “Peace Corps Experience” rather than just going from tourist site to tourist site. So after a day busing around in Dakar, a day of travel, and a day of the market, making baoabab juice with Fanta, and biking in Kedougou to help her get her eye-full of Africa (trust me, it can be absolutely shocking to come here), Sarah finally said she was starting to get used to Africa. Thats when her real challenge started!

Carrying a bit of baggage and a rooster named Mr Blanders, We biked to my village. I allowed us to get ready as a leisurely pace so we ended up going in the heat of the day. Oops. Neither Sarah nor Mr Blanders truly appreciated the ride in the heat of the sun. We made our way slowly, occasionally stopping when Mr Blanders decided that the heat and road bumps were too much and jumped out of his box.

You may be asking yourselves why I would bring a rooster to my village. We already have a rooster that I brought to be our pet (aka handsome baby-maker to our hens) when my family came to visit. He is beautiful and has quite a way with the ladies. Unfortunately, he has outstayed his welcome. He was starting to spend the night in other households and his place of residence was no longer sure and that can often lead to other people claiming him as their own, and eating him. So, I decided to beat the people to it, and we ate that rooster. We brought Mr Blanders as a replacement.

Here is the old rooster

Here is Mr Blanders!!

So anyway, When we arrived at the village I had been away for almost two weeks. Its always fun going home after being away for so long, and I got a warm welcome from my family, and they were all very happy to meet Sarah. . Those two days of getting Sarah adjusted to Africa did not apply to village life. In the village there is no electricity, no running water, and nothing really is available except people to chat with. In all we spent four days in my village. I believe that it was a fun, yet a rough four days for Sarah. You see, after the first day, she became ill. It is Senegalitis, the normal vomiting and diarrhea that plagues certain white people that come here and change their diet. It turned out that her stomach doesn't like something about my village because she was sick every day that we were there. Of course the sickness came in waves and there were plenty of times that we still managed to get out and about. We went to all of my garden groups and I got to see how they had improved in the two weeks that I was gone. Sarah got to bond with the ladies there, and see what kind of work is possible in villages.

We walked around a lot as well and stopped to sit down and chat with random groups of old men who taught her Pular with a notebook we had gotten for her.

We also sat in the bachelor hut and ate peanuts while 15 year old boys taught her Pular.

We went and talked to my favorite farmer about setting up a meeting with some local well diggers. I also got to take her to his field and she got to see his banana plants and where we are hoping to build the well. We biked there.

Sarah got to help pluck the chicken that we were cooking in honor of her visit.

There was a woman visiting who was in our extended family who adopted Sarah and claimed her as her pupil for African culture. The two of them spent a lot of time together learning how to communicate because she didn't speak any French. Here are the bestest buddies!

We went to the school in the village and got to sit in on a class for a little while. In these four days we got to spend a lot of time with kids. The kids here loved Sarah very much.

Here is a funny story. I have this friend named Phil (the guy who is studying gold, remember?) who has visited my village many times and was about to return to the united states. For months now he has been telling me he wants a bamboo flute made by one of my villagers to take home. Phil is a good friend so of course I said that I could get him one, no problem. Every man in the village knows how to make bamboo flutes. Well, it turned out to be a problem. I had been asking one guy for about a month to make one and he continuously assured me that he would make it the next day. But of course, it never got made. The time came when I was about to leave to go pick up Sarah and I had no flute. Sometimes the only way to get things done is to get angry. So I tried it... It didn't work. I had two different guys who said they would make me one but they couldn't. So I left to go get Sarah.

The four days in my village was my last chance to get a flute before Phil left for America. A guy had promised to make two flutes for me and have them ready by the time I arrived there with Sarah, but of course, when I arrived he hadn't lifted a finger to make them. I realized that I may be going about this the wrong way, so, the day before Sarah and I were to leave my village, I went around to several compounds and asked about 10 people to make me flutes, and I said that I would pay 500francs (1 dollar) for each functional flute that was brought to me by that evening.

I got 16 flutes that evening. Made by teenagers, adults and a couple old men who were looking for some cash. It was quite a satisfying success after so many failures. Heck, the next morning I had about 5 of my male friends come up tp me and ask why I hadn't asked them to make a flute for me, that they would have done it for free. Oops. So.. if you want something done, ask a lot of people. Ok. Here are 11 of the flutes.

I brought them to Kedougou and each one found a home quite rapidly. You'd be surprised how many white people want a hand-made bamboo flute.

We called a car and had it come pick us up and take us to Kedougou. It's funny, as soon as we left the village her health went back to normal. We spent two days there shopping in the market and hanging out with Fanta. Sarah had a long list of gifts to buy for her family and friends. It was like a treasure hunt for me. We found original things that represent the region of Kedougou, and things that represent Senegalese culture as well. We had plans to shop a lot more in Dakar. It was fun.

With Fanta we biked to a part of the Gambia River where you are supposed to see hippos. We didn't see any, unfortunately.

Ok, then we went to Dakar. We spent four days there doing lots of fun things. We went to Goree Island

and Madeleine Island.

We walked along the beach-side road. We ate lots of good food. Oh, and in the Peace Corps house we watched almost the entire season of the TV show Freaks and Geeks. We spent entire days seeking out markets to finish her shopping list. That was super fun. She had random things on her list and each thing she bought has a story of its own, like a teapot that included belittling racist sellers, followed by a proposal from an old Senegalese white person looking for a second wife, locally made cooking supplies which involved women surrounding us trying to get us to buy beaded thong underwear on the side, fabric, jewelry bought from aggressive island ladies, paintings where we bonded with the sellers who almost got in a fist fight with a bracelet selling lady who was taking my attention away from them, baskets from a lady who spoke my language and led us around the whole marker introducing us to her friends, gift for boyfriend (we got to pick that together) that ended up being a spontaneous yet amazing purchase made from someone selling things on the road, and the most interesting, a hand made wooden spoon that we had to go to the Malian Market to find, and found three. We got everything on her list and more, and sarah went from a shy American to a professional haggler! By the end of the shopping I would tell her the price to go for and she would talk the seller down like a pro!

When it was time to go Sarah had emptied absolutely everything from her bags, given it to me, and filled up with her new souvenirs. I got a lot of new clothes and trinkets from America. Thank you, Sarah! She left to go home after two weeks that flew by. The goodbye sucked because I was distracted, once again, by people harassing us at the airport. Arg.

So, my second rotation started the moment Sarah left. Suddenly I was all alone in Dakar and I had to be there for two weeks. I was taking the GRE in a week and didn't see why I should go all the way back to Kedougou for 5 days when I cloud just stay there and study. Then after the GRE I had to wait yet another 5 days for an annual Peace Corps get together called the All Volunteer Conference and WAIST, the West African International Softball Tournament.

There really isn't a lot to say about his rotation. I was suddenly alone because my friend, who was with me every second for the last two weeks, was now gone. I spent several days completely alone in the Dakar Peace Corps house studying for the test. Then volunteers started coming into town and I hung out with random people at random moments in between studying. That week was stressful because I tend to be really bad at standardized tests. The four days leading up to the test I hadn't been sleeping because of the noise at the Peace Corps house with the other volunteers there. The studying was stressful as well. And of course I finally took the test all those things leading up to it showed up. Bleh.

By the time the test was over there were about 40 volunteers staying in the Peace Corps house. Peace and quiet? What the heck is that? Chaos? Everywhere! I didn't know most of the people but I guess it was fun chatting around and getting to know who people were. Apparently I'm known as a volunteer who rarely leaves her region. Oops. So, after those in between days of randomness, we had the 5 days of official stuff. We had a two day conference where Volunteers came together from several countries and shared their best practices to give ideas to others, and then we had three days of softball and partying, to give us all a bit of vacation from the stresses of African life. The softball tournament goes on every year and every year the volunteers break up into teams by region, and come up with a costume theme. This year our team was called P.C.B.C or... cavemen. We all dressed up like cave people and used clubs for bats and stuff. It was fun.

Well that was two weeks summed up into two paragraphs.

Now I'm back in Kedougou. I missed it here. One thing that sucks though, the hot, hot hot season is coming. Constant sweating and heat lethargy is coming up. Tomorrow I will go back to my village. I have a LOT of work coming up in the near future. Those 5 weeks of “play” will be the last for some while.

Until next time!

The Latest Buzzz

Dry season. The season in which African honey bees are pushed out of their homes by forest fires and seek refuge on the tops of mountains, where forest fires don't generally go. Like this mountain.

Recognize the mountain? These are the spires that I had went on just a couple of months ago and had a nice camping trip. I was invited to go again with my buddy David and his friend who is visiting from the states, David (we call him David's David), who are just about the funnest guys to go places with, so off we go! On the way up we stop off at my friend KC's village, which happens to be on the top of a mountain also. We spend the afternoon and evening there, exploring her mountain and playing music with a mandolin and a tin whistle.

And my buddies are (LtoR): David's David, David, KC

David, KC, and David's David

The next day, David, David, KC and I head off to the spires! Biking, biking biking! We stop off in Fungolimbi, where there is another volunteer, Katie, and lots of food. We stock up on food, say hello to Katie, and continue on our way.

David, Katie, KC

On the way up I was grateful for the fires. There was no bushwhacking! instead of 8 ft dry grass like the previous time, we just walked over the grass ash and boulders that were now clearly visible.

The climb up to the top was smooth. It was steep, and a bit of rock climbing but no problem! We had all our senses, and our bodies were functioning perfectly, and we were all there to help and encourage each other along.
When we got to our camping spot on top it was lovely. KC and I sat up top and enjoyed the views.

The men went to explore the other spires.

As it turns oute were not on top of these rocks alone. There were just a few bees that were keeping us company. Until the sun started going down, each of us had one or two bees coming up to us, then leaving again. But then the sun went down, so it was no problem.

Yes, it crossed my mind that this could be a problem. I think it crossed everyone's mind. But when there are so many things going on in your mind, and not a lot of personal experience with African bees, who pays attention to just a small frequent buzzing in your ears?

As of now all four of us will pay attention to this buzz. Here is why.

We wake up to the most beautiful sunrise that one could imagine.

We are on top of the world, after all. Nothing above us, only below us. For some reason, the first thing every single person did when waking up, was put on our shoes.

A couple of bees came out. We decided to leave before having anymore bee problems, and so we started packing. Then more bees came. Lots more. They started stinging all of us at the same time. This situation became a big problem at lightening speed.

KC was the first to start down. We were suddenly all in our own place in time because we were all being stung by bees, and that hurts. One David tried to start a fire to calm them with smoke. The other David advised that we all go down. They disappeared. I was hiding under a sheet when they left, trying to get some protective wear on for my journey down. They started stinging me through the sheet, entering in the sheet, and getting caught under my hood, hat, bandanna and sunglasses. “Screw protective gear,” I thought, and I took the sheet off and suddenly realized that I was alone on top of the spires getting attacked by bees.

These ain't no American honey bees. These are African bees. You could call them African killer bees, because thats what they are. There is no other kind here. They are those really aggressive ones that don't sting to warn, they sting to kill. They don't sting in small quantities, they sting as groups. I didn't know this really at the time. I read it later on the Internet.

So, a lot of things were going through my mind, but at many different levels. While you are being stung by bees, your senses change, and your perspective changes. I was the slowest in leaving. Big ouch for me. I got the largest collection of bees after me because I was the last one the swarm found on the mountain. My face. They all went for my head and face. And my hands. They were all over my back and legs too but couldn't get me because of what I as wearing. I was ripping at the bees and unfortunately that took off my hat, sunglasses, hood, and bandanna. I guess that was ok at the time because it wasn't very light outside and I kinda needed to see to climb down this rock formation. But then again I couldn't see for long because the bees decided they wanted to go for my eyes... My f-ing eyes... There were points in the descent that I remember being hard to climb up the day before. I had gotten help from the others. These parts were no longer difficult to descend. Flying leaps work a lot better then carefully calculated hops. Then my ears... they dove butt first into my ears and got stuck there. They stung them. I couldn't hear a damn thing because of the buzzzzzzing of dying bees lodged into both ears. I could no longer see straight. As soon as I pulled one out of my ear another would go in. On top of that, bee after bee after bee was getting lodged into my hair, stinging my scalp or just getting stuck and buzzing around up there. They went in my nose. If I opened my mouth they went in there. I spit out bee after bee. I felt like I was going insane.

I still had a long way to go to get down. I needed my hands to stay balanced, but I needed my hands to get the bees out of my eyes. The stings hurt. But they were stinging me so damn much I almost couldn't feel it anymore, but it hurt... a lot. So did falling down the mountain. So did diving head first down rocks slides into seas of grass, swimming through them, trying to brush off bees to no avail.
I don't know how many times I fell. It was hard to distinguish on pain between falling and stinging. I think it ended up balancing out pretty well.
While the trip down the mountain was pretty direct, there was one moment where even the bees couldn't push me forward, however much they may have wanted to. I was shuffling through the grass and came one on one with a 10 foot cliff. I stopped dead in my tracks, looked down, had a moment with myself, and turned around to go back UP, towards the bees, in order to find a different way down.

If I had to describe what was going through my mind at the time, I'd say the main thing going on in the very very back of my head was “This really sucks. When will they stop stinging me. When will they leave me alone. I just want them to stop. Please stop.”

Other than that my body was just moving. Autpmatically, yet clumsy. I eventually got down to where the grass was burned. I realized that I could see better now. I heard David calling my name. He shouted something else but I couldn't hear because of the buzzing. I waited to answer until I got closer to his voice. I called out his name and said that I couldn't hear him. He shouted louder and told me to stop where I was. I stopped. I found it difficult to stop, but I did. I sat down and tucked into a ball. The bees were all over my face. I brushed them off and tucked my face into my fleece shirt. I waited for David. He stopped a ways behind me and explained the situation. He said we were far enough from the hive that no more bees were coming. We had to kill the remaining bees. He said I had a lot of bees on me. He was going to come hit them but needed my help. I needed to kill as many as I could reach before we came. I was listening intently. I knew there were lots of bees in my hair, so I took my hands, took handfuls of my hair and just squeezed. I heard pop after pop after pop after pop. It was a lovely sound. David told me I was doing a good job. He told me I had a lot on my back and shoulders. I hit everywhere I could reach. Then David basically ran up to me and started beating the shit out of my back, arms, and head. Ouch, but a good kind of ouch. He yelped a couple of times as my bees suddenly turned on him. David took a lot of stings for me. What a guy.

Then, miraculously, It was quiet. The buzzing stopped. David stood me up and gave me a big hug (David knows when one needs a hug). I was sort of on the brink of hyperventilating I think. He look me straight in the eyes and told me “Sheila, I need you to concentrate on your breathing, ok? I want you to take deep, slow breaths.”
So, I did. And I followed David weakly down the mountain. There were straggling bees. One flew straight into my ear. Fuck that bee. I tried to get it out but it was too far in. Buzzzzzzinig. Crazy moment: I grabbed some long, hard grass ready to make a stick out of it to jab it straight into my ear. Thank heavens for David. He just came up to me, pulled it out of my ear, and told me to keep going. At this point I was talking a lot. I was asking how the others were. I had no idea if they even made it down. David said they were all waiting for me. I was saying that we need to call Etienne about this (our emergency guy). I was worried that something could still go wrong. What if someone had an alergic reaction? I talked a lot about calling someone. Basically I was still in freak-out mode. My whole face was literally on fire. It hurt so much...
We met the others. They both looked at me and their jaws dropped. They seemed to be OK, just shaken up, like I was.
All of our baggage was on top of the mountain. It just so happens, however, that KC and I both had our cellphones in our pockets. David went to look for a signal to make some phone calls. The other two and I went to the forage to “wash up.”
We found A couple of local women at the water source. I'm sure we looked like the un-dead when they saw us approaching. They just stared at us, petrified. KC tried explaining to them what had happened. They spoke only Jahanke. We spoke Pular, and David spoke Malinke. Oh well, they got the gist, lent us a bowl and told us to put it in the onion garden when we were done.

While we were all in bad shape, I was probably freaking out the most. I wanted to rinse off my face but when I touched it I couldn't feel much skin, I could only feel bee stingers. I kindly asked the others to help me get them out. It was a humbling experience being surrounded by people carefully picking stinger after stinger after stinger out from around your eyes.
David's friend David was starting to get a rash. He was getting an allergic reaction. I was lost and confused. I was probably still freaking out. KC made a comment that we should probably get away from the forage because the bees come here to drink. Because we all smelled like bee distress signal, we would probably be stung again. Sure enough, a moment later a bee flies straight into my hair. Another lands on my shoulder. I hear that buzzing again. Something went off in my head “FUCK THIS!” And I started sprinting away from the forage toward the village. I had visions of laying down in a hut where the bees couldn't find me anymore. More buzzing. And they were following me. I was flailing at them wildly. Yes, I was going crazy.
Well, I snapped back into it when the buzzing stopped again. I looked back and saw KC jogging towards me and David's David coming in behind. “Sorry,” I said. “I want to get away from where there are bees.” KC stopped me to get the dead bees out of my hood. I don't know what we would have done without KC. Though she got stung a lot as well and had her own very, very dangerous descent down a much steeper side of the mountain, she managed to stay completely calm and helped to calm and organize the whole situation. She never rested. KC and David's David both went with me to the village, and found the first household and KC asked if David's David (Whose allergic reaction was worsening) and I could lay down because we were very, very sick.
So I got a hut to lay in, as did David's David. KC went to wait for David to come back so he could find us.

I lay down. It was just me and the villagers, who were coming in in shifts to check me out. The villagers were very, very nervous about my condition. They were very hospitable, giving me fruit, some insect bite balm, and asking if I wanted to bathe (this is pretty much everything that they could possibly do for us). Then time passed. After a few minutes I felt buzzing at the back of my neck. I reached to the sound and pulled out a dying bee and chucked it across the room. Then another. The two women in the hut stared in shock at the dying bees on the ground that I had magically pulled out of my shirt. They examined them for a moment, shared a few words, then squished them. Then the buzzing started up again in my hair. AAAHH!! So I sit up, start pulling at my hair trying to get it out. Three women come up to me and found the bees and picked them out. Then they started picking the other dead bees out of my hair. I asked for a comb and they brought me one. I spent about 15 minutes combing the grass, dirt and dead bees out of my hair, all with an audience of amazed children watching me intently. There was an impressive pile of crap on the floor by the time I was done.
At this time I could no longer see out of my left eye. My other one, I could see just a bit. I lay down, tears streaming out of both my eyes. I couldn't tell if I was crying or if it was the fact that I had been stung some 100-somethingish times on my face that was just making my eyes water
KC came in with news. David had made some calls. There was a doctor on the way with meds. David's David's allergic reaction was becoming worse. Matt was coming with a car to meet us at Fungolimbi with a car. The doctor came. We got pills and shots. He tested our breathing. Within a few minutes, according to KC and David's David, my swelling had reduced a lot. I could now see out of my left eye. Davids allergic reaction went away almost immediately. By this time we were all OK enough to make some jokes, and we even laughed a bit about this damn situation.

David's David and I got motorcycle rides 12 kilometers to Fungolimbi, where the health center was. Matt was already there with a car when we got there. The expressionon Matt's face when he saw my face was priceless. I got to see it for the first time as well (motorcycle mirror) and wow...

David and KC were riding their bikes back to Fungolimbi with two local villagers riding the other two bikes. Bless KC's heart. She had lost her glasses on the top of the mountain, had a terrifying experience and managed to take care of us the whole time and STILL rode her bike, without seeing much, 12 kilometers over rocky, steep paths in lightening speed.
We rode the car back to Kedougou. No one talked much, but David's David sang a lot. The whole ordeal started at about 6:30am. We got back the the house at 1:00pm. We've gotten lots of calls from the PC med staff asking how we are and prescribing us medicine. They were very worried about us.
I think that by that evening I had gotten pretty much all of the stingers out of me.
David went left to go get our bags the very same afternoon. none of us can believe how much this man can do. It's like, he never stops. He is back and safe. Bees don't come out at night. He slept under two giant baobabs near the top of the mountain and as the sun rose he carried 4 bags and everything inside down two mountains by himself, on foot. Is he even human?

Here's to David, KC and David's David for all staying alive and sane and helping me through this. Here's to Katie, the volunteer in Fungolimbi who, after receiving a call from Etienne (our emergency man), ran all over her village in her pajamas, waking the doctor and getting him to come to us in lightening speed. Here's to Matt for getting a car up there that arrived even before we did. And of course the villagers who welcomed us strangers and did everything to make us feel safe. And last but not least, heres to all the volunteers who greeted us at our homecoming and made us feel more than taken care of.

Pictures didn't come until David bought the camera back. But have a look! This is me before

and after. The swelling has gone down a lot in 24 hours, but I still look like a chubby pale chinese lady. And I'm purple to boot.

It isn't every day that I'll be posting a picture of my butt, so enjoy.

And Bees? I think everyone involved in this will no longer overlook that small buzzing sound in their ears. And so, who is up for some beekeeping?!

Until next time!

Toads Belly.

You know the dry season is really here when you find a toad wetting his belly in the leftover drops of the spout of your water filer.

Sometimes it's hard for me to write about interesting things because now everything here just seems normal. Kind of like going to that office job every day. Then I think really really hard and remember that nothing here is normal in an American's eyes, so I can write whatever I want! Then again, I am about to write about work. Work … yuck! Right?

Artsy intro:
December is cold here. I am wrapping myself up in my sleeping bag every night and loving it! It sucks if you have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night though because you have to crawl out of your warm cocoon and go outside in the FREEZING 60 degree weather to get to the potty. Then again, it does reinforce th loveliness of the sleeping bag. Which brings me to a nice little theme of todays blog: The more hopeless your job seems to be when starting out, the more lovely it is when it actually starts working.. Right?

Gardens. Cold season is garden season. I planned this big garden project down to the last tiny hair on the back of my hand, only to find out that I had to stick that hand into a steaming pile of cow poo and then re examine the situation.
The villagers were just not with me. The upper bosses were just not with me. I was worried. I was nervous and grouchy. I felt like I was spinning in a circle as fast as I can trying to get to China and everyone was just looking at me and laughing. And this went on for a long time.
Then I made a phone call to the big boss and boom, it all started going forward. I finally got to bring that materials to villagers who were starting to think that I was a big fat liar. I finally got to take a break from sitting in my village and telling people to get ready for something that I had no idea was coming or not. Here are my materials :)

So the garden project. Without any respect to what I went through to get it, the project is kind of pretty. I have three new groups, each with their own personality, who now have a project to work on together. Its really cool to see people come together in a village that is known for not having one single functional group. I used to sit in on conversations where people were complaining about how there is not a thread of ogranization in Thiabedji. Now I'm not only sitting in on cconversation after conversation about whats going on in the gardens, I'm also seeing people who have long been scattered start to get into the rhythm of working together.

The first group worked the fastest. It's been about three weeks. Still in the honeymoon phase, and they impress me with their dedication.
Don't know how much you all are interested in gardening in African villages. But because I can, I will give you a step by step of the labor involved.
Note: Segregation at its greatest! Men start the job.

Clear an area. Cut 66 posts (yes I realize I'm a tree volunteer)

dig 66 holes

Put the posts in the holes

Attach super expensive chain-link fence.

Measure Plots

Dig Plots.

Men leave. Women come in and
Hit the dirt until its pretty

Add manure, rake.

Water.

Plant stuff from the nursery that has been brewin baby plants.
Then there is that constant daily gardening thing. Watering, planting, and the most neverending task; pest control.
Sooooo I can't leave the other two group out.
Group 2
Groups two is coming in close behind group 1 in speed of work. Their nursery is to die for.
They are about a week and a half behind in planting. Their organization is pending. But they are all very high in spirits. Woooo are their gardens baking in the sun! To do list: mulching lesson. Get these people a well.

Group three is straggling! It's all about the politics and its looking to be an uphill slope! The group members are eager to get it going! Today we FINALLY measured the plots. Their soil SUCKS! And the sun is a problem. To do list: lots and lots of poop. Mulching. Compost lessons galore. Warnings that this years gardens will suuuuck!
I decided on three groups for several reasons. One big group was recommended to me by my boss but heck, I know my village and I know that wouldn't work. My village is just too big. It practically has its own zipcodes. I went by neighborhood. One thing I didn't think of when doing this is how busy it would make me. I've got three groups coming to me all the time in all different kinds of requests. It keeps me busy, thats for sure.
So thats going on in the village, and my trying to get a well for my one good farmer. That is another uphill slope.
I've been thinking a lot about development, and what the heck it is. Heck, I've been thinking about it since I got here. But still, I keep thinking about it. Thats all I have to say about that.

Random fact time!
I'm also bothering this guy named Bocar in my village to make a flute for Phil. Phil is my buddy who is studying gold and is though of as a godly figure by my villagers. Phil is going home soon, bleh for me but yay for him! Anyway, it's fun getting this flute made because I'm leaning how flutes are made.
So this other thing happened this month. This thing called Christmas and then a new year came along. Eh... big deal. I got a Christmas present on Christmas, some nutrigrain bars and tupperware. We ate lots of food. I got to skin a pig all by myself that we threw away because it spoiled. I chatted with the other volunteers and got to teach Fanta about Christmas.
Then New Years came along and I came back to Kedougou to spend it with Fanta. This was not the best night. It is said that there is at least one moment in everyone service where a volunteer “loses it” with local kids. Well at about 11:00pm on January 31st I lost it with a pack of 9 year old boys. I guess the stress had been rising over these past couple of months. Then there was this night where I was walking the streets of Kedougou with Fanta and a couple of other local gals. Kids were sitting on the side of the road looking for interesting things to throw fireworks at. Why not shoot them at the tubab? 10 bonus points! Shoot what,, exactly? They are little balls they light and throw at your feet and they explode and make a sound like a gunshot. They leave your ears ringing. After getting hit two times I start watching these kids... the third one starts to light it and I go up to him and tell him to stop, rather rudely. It clicks in them some crazy button because, “Oh my god, the tubab spoke to me!” and a suddenly twenty 9 year old boys start running after me screaming at the top of their lungs all the shit that kids scream at tubabs. I'm walking away from them. They are following. I go insane.
Ok, not really insane. But I turned around lighting fast. The kids instinct is to run away from the angry tubab, but I grab one at random by his shirt and jerk him back toward me until his face is in my face and he is in tears screaming “don't hurt me, I didn't do anything!” Then I just look at him and say, “And me?! What did I do!?” Ok so then all the other kids think I'm going to beat this kid and they either start crying or picking up sticks and coming after me. Oh dear. I seem to have gotten into a fight with a group of 9 year old boys. A bunch of local men came running up to seperate us. Fanta was helping too by telling the boys that they had better leave me alone because I was Peace Corps and if they bother me the police will come after them.
On a lighter note. Our chicken had babies! 10 out of 10 to be exact! And the father is my rooster, Woohoo! Really, this is not news. Our chickens have chicks all the time. I think out family is up to like 30 chickens or all sizes. I just wanted to post this cute photo.

Thats all folks!