Here are some more pictures of the health hut - painted! Thanks for all who supported this project to help make it a reality! I know the village is very proud.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Health Hut Pictures!
Here are some more pictures of the health hut - painted! Thanks for all who supported this project to help make it a reality! I know the village is very proud.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Earth Day (in the States)
It's interesting to think about Earth Day, especially as an American currently living in America. It has been nice to be home and take advantage of the "comforts" that we all take for granted -- and the comforts of my parent's house!
The contrasts between living in Senegal and living in the United States are stunning, especially in terms of environmental impact. This is not a conclusive list, but may give you an idea of how much resources we each use to maintain our "lifestyles."
An Average Day (for me) in America:
- 10-minute shower with several gallons of HOT water
- Lights on in the house for 6(?) hours
- 2 hours on the computer
- 1 gallon of gas for my car
- Clean clothes and linens washed and dried in MACHINES
- 1 bag of trash, mostly from food packaging or newspapers
- And of course, much more waste that was produced to make things that I consume, from my clothes to hair/face products, to food imported or manufactured from different parts of the country and the world, to the cleaning products used to clean our house and cars, etc.
(I'm sure I'm missing tons of other things, but then again, all of these things are things we know and accept.)
But, for some perspective...
An Average Day (for me) in Senegal:
- No electricity
- No hot water, running water
- 10-liters of water each day for bathing/drinking
- 15 extra liters of water each week for washing clothes
- Virtually no trash, except from packaging from things that were sent to me from the States
- When I would take a "car" into town, I would be one of 25 passengers crammed into a small bus, maybe using 2 gallons a trip, every two weeks
Obviously we don't want to give up many of our "pleasures" and "comforts," especially when we can still afford them, but it is something to think about. If our natural resources are here for everyone on this planet, why are we using so much more?
The contrasts between living in Senegal and living in the United States are stunning, especially in terms of environmental impact. This is not a conclusive list, but may give you an idea of how much resources we each use to maintain our "lifestyles."
An Average Day (for me) in America:
- 10-minute shower with several gallons of HOT water
- Lights on in the house for 6(?) hours
- 2 hours on the computer
- 1 gallon of gas for my car
- Clean clothes and linens washed and dried in MACHINES
- 1 bag of trash, mostly from food packaging or newspapers
- And of course, much more waste that was produced to make things that I consume, from my clothes to hair/face products, to food imported or manufactured from different parts of the country and the world, to the cleaning products used to clean our house and cars, etc.
(I'm sure I'm missing tons of other things, but then again, all of these things are things we know and accept.)
But, for some perspective...
An Average Day (for me) in Senegal:
- No electricity
- No hot water, running water
- 10-liters of water each day for bathing/drinking
- 15 extra liters of water each week for washing clothes
- Virtually no trash, except from packaging from things that were sent to me from the States
- When I would take a "car" into town, I would be one of 25 passengers crammed into a small bus, maybe using 2 gallons a trip, every two weeks
Obviously we don't want to give up many of our "pleasures" and "comforts," especially when we can still afford them, but it is something to think about. If our natural resources are here for everyone on this planet, why are we using so much more?
Friday, April 11, 2008
The Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave
Over 24 hours of airplanes and airports and I am back in Yuba City, California. My week in Dakar was a good transition on my way back to the States and of course I already felt like I was in America once I stepped onto the plane. (Airplane food is pretty amazing, by the way!)
While in Senegal, one common conversation started like this: "Iboka Amerik? A kha di! Waree be jee!" Translation: "You're from America? America is nice! Money is there!" Sometimes I would just agree, but most of the time I would explain that there are good and bad things about America, just like any other country. Yes there is money to be made, but there are prices to be paid as well. For better or for worse, in America, families usually only consist of nuclear families with grandparents or aunts and uncles being hours or days away. In many two-parent families, both parents work, leaving the kids with some sort of caretaker. While some people are very wealthy, others live alone on the streets. We all usually spend quite a few hours each day alone or not interacting with other people, whether we are commuting to and from work, watching TV or sitting behind a computer. These are all things that are foreign to Senegal.
Then again, there are other things that are "primitive" about Senegal that are actually very important. Subsistence farming can make for a fragile lifestyle -- one bad rainy season or a sick family member can dramatically change a family's life. However, my villagers have a certain amount of control. While they buy oil and rice, they didn't have to worry too much about the price of the rest of their food since they grew it. They also knew the land, something that I think we as Americans are really missing out on. They feel the weather and know when the wind will blow. They know where their food comes from and even though they have enough, they don't take it for granted.
Just like this year was both wonderful and painful, so is being back. Springtime in Northern California is basically perfect; I am glad to be here for this season. Everything is in bloom, it is neither too hot nor too cold, both sunsets and sunrises require pause for reflection. And I have every comfort I could ever imagine. Our house is clean, with soft carpet. There is air conditioning or heat or fans or windows. I have a bed. Our house is quiet. There is clean running water, both hot and cold. There is a refrigerator and a pantry, and even more amazingly, dozens of stores with any type of food I could imagine, most of which only requires opening a package or heating some water to prepare.
But, then again, I miss spending time outside. I miss knowing the constellations and the phases of the moon. I miss the kids in my family, all 10 or 15 of them. I miss eating every meal with other people, sitting around the same bowl. I miss thinking about America from afar. I miss my Peace Corps friends.
Well, I have done quite a bit of rambling. I guess the point of this entry is that while I had conflicted feelings about being in Senegal, I still have conflicted feelings about being home. Transitions are never totally smooth though. I guess I still have to remind myself that I left in order to take advantage of the opportunities I have as an American to go back to school and become more educated -- so that I can better serve others again.
While in Senegal, one common conversation started like this: "Iboka Amerik? A kha di! Waree be jee!" Translation: "You're from America? America is nice! Money is there!" Sometimes I would just agree, but most of the time I would explain that there are good and bad things about America, just like any other country. Yes there is money to be made, but there are prices to be paid as well. For better or for worse, in America, families usually only consist of nuclear families with grandparents or aunts and uncles being hours or days away. In many two-parent families, both parents work, leaving the kids with some sort of caretaker. While some people are very wealthy, others live alone on the streets. We all usually spend quite a few hours each day alone or not interacting with other people, whether we are commuting to and from work, watching TV or sitting behind a computer. These are all things that are foreign to Senegal.
Then again, there are other things that are "primitive" about Senegal that are actually very important. Subsistence farming can make for a fragile lifestyle -- one bad rainy season or a sick family member can dramatically change a family's life. However, my villagers have a certain amount of control. While they buy oil and rice, they didn't have to worry too much about the price of the rest of their food since they grew it. They also knew the land, something that I think we as Americans are really missing out on. They feel the weather and know when the wind will blow. They know where their food comes from and even though they have enough, they don't take it for granted.
Just like this year was both wonderful and painful, so is being back. Springtime in Northern California is basically perfect; I am glad to be here for this season. Everything is in bloom, it is neither too hot nor too cold, both sunsets and sunrises require pause for reflection. And I have every comfort I could ever imagine. Our house is clean, with soft carpet. There is air conditioning or heat or fans or windows. I have a bed. Our house is quiet. There is clean running water, both hot and cold. There is a refrigerator and a pantry, and even more amazingly, dozens of stores with any type of food I could imagine, most of which only requires opening a package or heating some water to prepare.
But, then again, I miss spending time outside. I miss knowing the constellations and the phases of the moon. I miss the kids in my family, all 10 or 15 of them. I miss eating every meal with other people, sitting around the same bowl. I miss thinking about America from afar. I miss my Peace Corps friends.
Well, I have done quite a bit of rambling. I guess the point of this entry is that while I had conflicted feelings about being in Senegal, I still have conflicted feelings about being home. Transitions are never totally smooth though. I guess I still have to remind myself that I left in order to take advantage of the opportunities I have as an American to go back to school and become more educated -- so that I can better serve others again.
Friday, April 4, 2008
And then it happened...
I left the village. There were so many days this past year when it seemed like that would never happen, like I was stuck in this "village limbo" forever. Although things changed during the rainy season, for the most part, one day in the village was pretty similar to the next. Over time it seemed like I would never leave, but then it happened.
The last few weeks in the village were great. With some art supplies sent from Winship School we had a successful art day at the primary school. The students made drawings of Senegal and the village, which included things like mortal and pestles, donkeys, monkeys, "machines" for planting, and even a tree with a face carved in it, which comes from animism. It was a cool project. We also got the school garden up and running with beans, okra, bissap, carrots, lettuce, hot peppers and watermelon. The students are in teams and take turns watering. They are all really excited about it.
I also kept busy helping start a tree nursery in our area. Wula Nafaa (which means "use of the forest" in Bambara) is a USAID-funded project helping villages in my area build tree nurseries. The goal is to not only sell trees to individuals but to also help reforest the area. We have had quite a few workdays filling plastic sacks with a sand/dirt mixture. We ended with close to 10,000 sacks waiting to be seeded. It has been awhile since I have done any agriculture work (since our harvest ended in January) so it was nice to get my hands dirty again. The team was all men, too, which normally makes for a slightly uncomfortable situation but they were great and it was nice to be one of the guys and not harassed.
As for the health hut, a major cement shortage pushed back our start date to just last week. There has been a ton of construction in Dakar the last couple of months, mostly in preparation for the Islamic Conference in mid-March; my theory is that this was the cause of our cement shortage in Tambacounda. Nevertheless, it has started and the project committee is on top of things, always one step ahead of me. I have complete confidence in their abilities and would not have left early had I had any doubt. I formally transferred the project to Josh, my nearest Peace Corps neighbor, to help them out if they run into any problems. Again, everyone in the village is really excited and so thankful to all who have helped make the health hut happen.
Besides work, one very awesome and memorable event was our village's "sugo tuloo" or ANIMAL PARTY. It's a very traditional Bambara "thing," that different villages in the area host each year. There was lots of anticipation leading up to the big night. Well over 1,000 people came in from other villages and towns and took our little village over. It was a bit overwhelming! A few of my Peace Corps friends, Josh, Ben, and Donna, also came. After sunset we all headed to the edge of the village, looking out into the forest. The drummers started drumming and slowly two gazelles started dancing out from the trees into the village. We formed a huge circle and two of our older women, my grandma and our neighbor, led everyone to call the animals out, along with the drummers. The two gazelles danced, along with a huge bird and finally, the lion. The animals danced one-by-one until well after midnight. Lights nor cameras were acceptable but I recorded the drumming and singing on a cassette. The next day I asked who was in each "costume," but they gave me a smile and said, "Moxol si!" Or, "Nobody! They were animals!" Awesome Bambara tradition! My village rocks.
I left my village on the 27th of March. The first day I arrived in my village was really difficult, but this was clearly worse. I am leaving for many reasons, but mostly because I want to pursue medical school to obtain skills that will allow me to do greater good. My biggest regret was that I couldn't do much to really help my village, that they didn't need me in the first place, and that I did not have many skills to offer anyway. I am leaving to try to rectify that. However, while being so "work focused," I definitely underestimated the "culture" side. My host family has been amazing. They have been my friends, and really, my family here. I have seen their kids grow up. And one of the hardest parts is, I may never see them again. The morning I left, we shook hands with our left hands, a promise that we will see each other again. The women also asked me to forgive them if they had done me any harm, and I did the same. Crying is not very acceptable in this culture, but tears were shed.
I have finally made it to Dakar and am slowly getting used to the idea that I am actually going home -- and not just for vacation. My flight is on April 9th. The ride from Tamba to Dakar was the usual 12 hours; it was therapeutic to watch the scenery change (and see the temperature drop below 100 for once). Now in Dakar, it is starting to feel more like home. I have gone to the French bakery down the road several times. I went to the pool and the beach and have spoken more French than Bambara. I haven't worn my "village clothes" in a week. I have slept in a room with air conditioning for the first time in Senegal. I have almost spent all my money. I have said goodbye to other volunteers, who have been my second family here in Senegal.
To end this entry, I'm going to take a quote from a quick read that I really enjoyed, Eat, Pray, Love: "In the end, though, maybe we must all give up trying to pay back the people in this world who sustain our lives. In the end, maybe it's wiser to surrender before the miraculous scope of human generosity and to just keep saying thank you forever and sincerely, for as long as we have voices."
To those back home who have written and called and supported me, thank you. To my fellow volunteers and friends, thank you. To my village and Dansoxo kunda, Mao, Vieux and Bayo, Nynjarro and Nantie, Ndiaye, Khadi, Mama, Mydiarra and Fatou, all my little brothers and sisters, thank you.
My kids' hands on the wall of my hut.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Hippos, hitting the field in Dakar, and some other joys of living in West Africa
Once again, I am quite behind on my blog entries. A lot has happened since the last. My apologies if this becomes long-winded!
My closest neighbor, Josh, had a 2-week visit from his parents in early February. Josh has been a great neighbor and great friend to me; I consider him like my brother, so it was great to meet his parents and have them take care of me a little, too! He brought them to his village after a few days in Dakar and I went with them to Nikolo-koba National Park, about 30 km south of our villages. The park is 3 million acres big, bigger than any national park in the continental United States (so I hear). (As an aside, the Pulaar people in my village originally lived in this area but were forced out when the government deemed it a national park in 1970. Most of the villages along the north-south main paved route used to inhabit the park as well. So, no villages currently exist within the park gates.) We spent the first night at a hotel inside the park run by a friendly, if a bit overly-enthusiastic, British man and the second night at a "campement," (low cost huts, village-style), both along the Gambie River. We had a great time watching birds, baboons, hippos and gazelle-like animals, but Josh and I probably had an even better time joking around with the staff members in Jaxanke/Bambara. Unfortunately we found the funniest jokes to be things like, "Your wife is that baboon over there! Hear that? She’s calling you home for dinner!" Or, "That crocodile won’t eat you – you’re too skinny!" Pretty ridiculous, but a great time. The last night at the campement we finally convinced our new friends to tell us some "taling talings" around the campfire – traditional Mandinka stories. In the middle of the night, lions apparently roamed (and roared) around the campement as well.
To complete this part of the entry, I have to say that there are no elephants or giraffes here. There are a few lions and possibly a few leopards, but populations are so low that they are hardly seen. Before the area was deemed a national park, people had to ask village chiefs for permission to hunt, yet after, when everyone was forced out, hunters and poachers could sneak in and kill whatever they fancied. The past decade or so has seen animal populations growing again, but sometimes bad things happen when you trade in the "traditional."
After our 2-day trip to the Park, Josh’s parents decided they liked me enough to invite me on the rest of their trip with them, up north along the border with Mali and Mauritania to the north-west corner of Senegal (and former capitol), Saint-Louis. I had visited very briefly during my first few days in country and it was great to go back. It is quite a colonial town, much different from anywhere else in Senegal. The main part of the city is actually on a small island in the middle of the Senegal River, but not far from where the river enters the ocean. Perhaps since it has always been a colonial town, no one called us "toubab" (the annoying word for "white person") the entire time we were there. We had some of the best food I have had in the past year – Vietnamese food and Italian! We also went to a great open-air bar with live jazz (until it started raining, but even that was great since I haven’t seen rain since September!). If you ever consider a trip to Senegal, the International Jazz Festival is here in early May and supposed to be amazing.
As Josh and his parents spent their last few days at a bird park near Saint-Louis, I headed down to Dakar. The Dakaroise ex-pat community hosted the West Africa Invitational Softball Tournament (WAIST) the second weekend in February, "inviting" Peace Corps teams from Benin, Mali, Mauritania, Gambia and of course Senegal, as well as other ex-pat teams and a few Senegalese teams. Unfortunately Team Tambacounda/Kedegou ("Tambagou") only won one out of four games. However, I am pretty sure we had the most team spirit. We even challenged our opponents to dance-offs on the field and invited them to eat brownies on second base with us during our last game. In all, the Senegalese teams won the tournament. (Yeah, a bit embarrassing since there is no baseball in Senegal! We considered it a bit of "cultural exchange." It was only right that we let them win, right??) The tournament organizers helped us poor Peace Corps Volunteers out by setting us up in host homes. We stayed with a great family (the father works at the Embassy); they even made us Mexican food and homemade chocolate chip cookies. Along with air conditioning, we were basically in heaven, or America, for the weekend. All of my simple food cravings from the past year were satisfied over the weekend, from a Snickers to a grilled cheese sandwich, Mexican food and a Corona.
The day after the tournament ended we had an All-Volunteer meeting with our new Country Director, Chris Hedrick. It was informative, but also a chance to see a bit more of the American ex-pat community—where they work. The meeting started at the USAID building in Dakar and moved to the new Peace Corps office, both very nice buildings (with air conditioning, again). I also picked up the check for our health hut! Quite exciting! It came out to 1,800,350 CFA, which is quite a lot of currency. Before heading out of Dakar I had to cash it and deposit it into my bank account. I was sure someone was going to decide to mug me on my one-block walk between the two banks but luckily no one recognized the nervous look on my face indicative of someone carrying millions of CFA.
The 12+ hour journey back to Tamba reminded me where I actually live—far away from the comfy ex-pat life in Dakar. The road has become increasingly worse, with a stretch of potholes that practically jump out and eat tires. If you are lucky, your driver will try to bypass some of these by driving on a parallel dirt road, which isn’t too must faster, but at least cuts down on all the swerving. You end up with pounds of dust in your clothes, skin, lungs and anything else you bring in the car. Travelling may be the worst part of being in Senegal, and there are worse places to travel in Africa, to be sure. (Thankfully we don’t have to worry about bribing anyone, too!)
Back to Madina Guinguineo, the village is ecstatic about the health hut. They greet everyone who donated and pray that you will live long and be prosperous and come and visit. The committee ran the first meeting (once I showed up with the money) and confirmed which points of the budget they would contribute and who would start building and when. (Since there are the three neighborhoods—two Pulaar and one Bambara—they created a nice work schedule to be fair.) Of course, no matter how well you plan things, they seem to usually take longer than you expect. We have already run into our first obstacle; the cement vendor in Missirah has not had much of it lately. Nevertheless, I have no doubt that it will all work out. Many, many thanks again!
As for some of the other "joys" of living in West Africa, I came down with some sort of stomach bug (perhaps a literal bug) last week. I have been really lucky to have been healthy most of my time here, especially as the flu season affected family and friends back home. Perhaps my time was coming, though. I haven’t been too sick, but I think the worst part is not exactly knowing what is going on. I guess I am just really integrated, though, right?
And finally, in other personal news, I have been accepted to the Johns Hopkins University Post-Baccalaureate Pre-Medical program and will leave Senegal in April to start classes this summer. (Phew!) Yes, this is kind of a big thing for me! Not only have I decided to leave Senegal early, but I have decided I want to accumulate much more debt and go to school for many more years to become a doctor. Many of my experiences here were definitely contributing factors in my decision to want to be a medical doctor and not just a foreign aid or public health worker. Summarizing my thoughts and feelings about all of this into a few sentences is near impossible (it seems about half of my journal is now devoted to the subject), but I think it is the right decision for me. I am excited but nervous, sad to leave Senegal but happy I came and did the things I did, anxious to get home but sad to leave friends behind. I plan on being in California in May and then Baltimore starting in June through the following August. (And if anyone wants to treat me to a drink or dinner, I think I could probably free my schedule to visit with friends and family who I have really missed!)
Now that this entry is excessively long and I’m emotionally exhausted remembering the past few weeks, I think I will sign off. But before doing so, again, a HUGE thank you to those who helped contribute to the Madina Guinguineo Health Hut. Quite simply, your generosity was extraordinary. Cheers to you, who have helped make this a reality.
My closest neighbor, Josh, had a 2-week visit from his parents in early February. Josh has been a great neighbor and great friend to me; I consider him like my brother, so it was great to meet his parents and have them take care of me a little, too! He brought them to his village after a few days in Dakar and I went with them to Nikolo-koba National Park, about 30 km south of our villages. The park is 3 million acres big, bigger than any national park in the continental United States (so I hear). (As an aside, the Pulaar people in my village originally lived in this area but were forced out when the government deemed it a national park in 1970. Most of the villages along the north-south main paved route used to inhabit the park as well. So, no villages currently exist within the park gates.) We spent the first night at a hotel inside the park run by a friendly, if a bit overly-enthusiastic, British man and the second night at a "campement," (low cost huts, village-style), both along the Gambie River. We had a great time watching birds, baboons, hippos and gazelle-like animals, but Josh and I probably had an even better time joking around with the staff members in Jaxanke/Bambara. Unfortunately we found the funniest jokes to be things like, "Your wife is that baboon over there! Hear that? She’s calling you home for dinner!" Or, "That crocodile won’t eat you – you’re too skinny!" Pretty ridiculous, but a great time. The last night at the campement we finally convinced our new friends to tell us some "taling talings" around the campfire – traditional Mandinka stories. In the middle of the night, lions apparently roamed (and roared) around the campement as well.
To complete this part of the entry, I have to say that there are no elephants or giraffes here. There are a few lions and possibly a few leopards, but populations are so low that they are hardly seen. Before the area was deemed a national park, people had to ask village chiefs for permission to hunt, yet after, when everyone was forced out, hunters and poachers could sneak in and kill whatever they fancied. The past decade or so has seen animal populations growing again, but sometimes bad things happen when you trade in the "traditional."
After our 2-day trip to the Park, Josh’s parents decided they liked me enough to invite me on the rest of their trip with them, up north along the border with Mali and Mauritania to the north-west corner of Senegal (and former capitol), Saint-Louis. I had visited very briefly during my first few days in country and it was great to go back. It is quite a colonial town, much different from anywhere else in Senegal. The main part of the city is actually on a small island in the middle of the Senegal River, but not far from where the river enters the ocean. Perhaps since it has always been a colonial town, no one called us "toubab" (the annoying word for "white person") the entire time we were there. We had some of the best food I have had in the past year – Vietnamese food and Italian! We also went to a great open-air bar with live jazz (until it started raining, but even that was great since I haven’t seen rain since September!). If you ever consider a trip to Senegal, the International Jazz Festival is here in early May and supposed to be amazing.
As Josh and his parents spent their last few days at a bird park near Saint-Louis, I headed down to Dakar. The Dakaroise ex-pat community hosted the West Africa Invitational Softball Tournament (WAIST) the second weekend in February, "inviting" Peace Corps teams from Benin, Mali, Mauritania, Gambia and of course Senegal, as well as other ex-pat teams and a few Senegalese teams. Unfortunately Team Tambacounda/Kedegou ("Tambagou") only won one out of four games. However, I am pretty sure we had the most team spirit. We even challenged our opponents to dance-offs on the field and invited them to eat brownies on second base with us during our last game. In all, the Senegalese teams won the tournament. (Yeah, a bit embarrassing since there is no baseball in Senegal! We considered it a bit of "cultural exchange." It was only right that we let them win, right??) The tournament organizers helped us poor Peace Corps Volunteers out by setting us up in host homes. We stayed with a great family (the father works at the Embassy); they even made us Mexican food and homemade chocolate chip cookies. Along with air conditioning, we were basically in heaven, or America, for the weekend. All of my simple food cravings from the past year were satisfied over the weekend, from a Snickers to a grilled cheese sandwich, Mexican food and a Corona.
The day after the tournament ended we had an All-Volunteer meeting with our new Country Director, Chris Hedrick. It was informative, but also a chance to see a bit more of the American ex-pat community—where they work. The meeting started at the USAID building in Dakar and moved to the new Peace Corps office, both very nice buildings (with air conditioning, again). I also picked up the check for our health hut! Quite exciting! It came out to 1,800,350 CFA, which is quite a lot of currency. Before heading out of Dakar I had to cash it and deposit it into my bank account. I was sure someone was going to decide to mug me on my one-block walk between the two banks but luckily no one recognized the nervous look on my face indicative of someone carrying millions of CFA.
The 12+ hour journey back to Tamba reminded me where I actually live—far away from the comfy ex-pat life in Dakar. The road has become increasingly worse, with a stretch of potholes that practically jump out and eat tires. If you are lucky, your driver will try to bypass some of these by driving on a parallel dirt road, which isn’t too must faster, but at least cuts down on all the swerving. You end up with pounds of dust in your clothes, skin, lungs and anything else you bring in the car. Travelling may be the worst part of being in Senegal, and there are worse places to travel in Africa, to be sure. (Thankfully we don’t have to worry about bribing anyone, too!)
Back to Madina Guinguineo, the village is ecstatic about the health hut. They greet everyone who donated and pray that you will live long and be prosperous and come and visit. The committee ran the first meeting (once I showed up with the money) and confirmed which points of the budget they would contribute and who would start building and when. (Since there are the three neighborhoods—two Pulaar and one Bambara—they created a nice work schedule to be fair.) Of course, no matter how well you plan things, they seem to usually take longer than you expect. We have already run into our first obstacle; the cement vendor in Missirah has not had much of it lately. Nevertheless, I have no doubt that it will all work out. Many, many thanks again!
As for some of the other "joys" of living in West Africa, I came down with some sort of stomach bug (perhaps a literal bug) last week. I have been really lucky to have been healthy most of my time here, especially as the flu season affected family and friends back home. Perhaps my time was coming, though. I haven’t been too sick, but I think the worst part is not exactly knowing what is going on. I guess I am just really integrated, though, right?
And finally, in other personal news, I have been accepted to the Johns Hopkins University Post-Baccalaureate Pre-Medical program and will leave Senegal in April to start classes this summer. (Phew!) Yes, this is kind of a big thing for me! Not only have I decided to leave Senegal early, but I have decided I want to accumulate much more debt and go to school for many more years to become a doctor. Many of my experiences here were definitely contributing factors in my decision to want to be a medical doctor and not just a foreign aid or public health worker. Summarizing my thoughts and feelings about all of this into a few sentences is near impossible (it seems about half of my journal is now devoted to the subject), but I think it is the right decision for me. I am excited but nervous, sad to leave Senegal but happy I came and did the things I did, anxious to get home but sad to leave friends behind. I plan on being in California in May and then Baltimore starting in June through the following August. (And if anyone wants to treat me to a drink or dinner, I think I could probably free my schedule to visit with friends and family who I have really missed!)
Now that this entry is excessively long and I’m emotionally exhausted remembering the past few weeks, I think I will sign off. But before doing so, again, a HUGE thank you to those who helped contribute to the Madina Guinguineo Health Hut. Quite simply, your generosity was extraordinary. Cheers to you, who have helped make this a reality.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
I ning barra! On jarrama! Merci Beaucoup! (Thank you!)
A huge thanks to those who donated to my "health hut" or talked about it with others! It was fully funded within a month and I am in Dakar picking up the check this week. Really exciting! I'll take pictures of the building process and post them when I can. From me and the village of Madina Guinguineo, THANK YOU!
The past few weeks have been a bit slow. Of course, part of that has been due to the fact that I have been waiting anxiously to hear that the money was sent from Peace Corps Washington here to Senegal. Harvest is totally done and it is strange to not have anyone go to the fields anymore. I think it was an okay year, although they say that there aren't many peanuts. It still blows my mind that we farm all of the food we eat for entire year (except for rice, which we eat once a day). Cotton was the only cash crop; depending on the quality our family will get $1,000-3,000, although some villages can't repay their loans for the cotton seeds and fertilizer.
I heard the Super Bowl still happened at home this year. Well, the Africa Cup of Nations was going on here! Unfortunately Egypt ending up winning the entire thing, and Senegal didn't do great. The entire country (and probably continent) was really into the games. My family, with money from brothers and sisters in France and Spain, is the new proud owner of a color television, run off of car batteries! All of the men in the village would crowd around it to watch the games every night. Pretty amazing to literally see 100-150 people watching one little TV, outside in our courtyard, as sheep, goats, donkeys, etc. were roaming around! TIA.
My closest Peace Corps neighbor, Josh, had his parents come visit the last two weeks, so I went with them to visit the Nikolo-koba National Park about 30 km south of my village. We stayed for two days and saw plenty of waterbuck, warthogs, hippos, crocodiles, baboons, and monkeys. Late the second night we also heard a lion. There aren't too many left (and no elephants). Thirty years ago, when the government declared the area a national park, they forced out the villages. (Half of the people who live in my village used to live in the park, so this affected quite a few people.) When people lived in the area, if someone wanted to go hunting, they had to ask permission from the chiefs. This was a way to keep the animal populations healthy. Once everyone was forced out, however, everyone took advantage and populations plummetted. Only recently have they been growing again. Interesting. As an aside, Josh and I had a great time speaking Jaxanke/Bambara to everyone who worked in the park. Usually when we leave our villages people speak Pulaar or Wolof, but this time we were around our "own." :-) Late the second night around the campfire, we got our new friends to share some traditional Bambara folklore. Sometimes it's good fun knowing the local language!
After the National Park, I continued with Josh and his parents up north, following the Senegal River around the border of Mauritania up to Saint Louis in the north-west corner of Senegal on the coast. It was apparently the first French settlement in Africa and the capital of French West Africa. A small little colonial town, it felt like we were far from Senegal. It even rained!
Yesterday I made it to Dakar. This weekend is WAIST, the West African International Softball Tournament, with ex-pats from across West Africa attending. Should be a good time! Afterward, we have a country-wide meeting with all the Peace Corps volunteers and our new director. It's great to be in Dakar with all its ammenities, but also a little overwhelming. I also feel like a tourist again; no one here speaks Bambara!
A huge thanks again for your support with the health hut! You have made a difference!
The past few weeks have been a bit slow. Of course, part of that has been due to the fact that I have been waiting anxiously to hear that the money was sent from Peace Corps Washington here to Senegal. Harvest is totally done and it is strange to not have anyone go to the fields anymore. I think it was an okay year, although they say that there aren't many peanuts. It still blows my mind that we farm all of the food we eat for entire year (except for rice, which we eat once a day). Cotton was the only cash crop; depending on the quality our family will get $1,000-3,000, although some villages can't repay their loans for the cotton seeds and fertilizer.
I heard the Super Bowl still happened at home this year. Well, the Africa Cup of Nations was going on here! Unfortunately Egypt ending up winning the entire thing, and Senegal didn't do great. The entire country (and probably continent) was really into the games. My family, with money from brothers and sisters in France and Spain, is the new proud owner of a color television, run off of car batteries! All of the men in the village would crowd around it to watch the games every night. Pretty amazing to literally see 100-150 people watching one little TV, outside in our courtyard, as sheep, goats, donkeys, etc. were roaming around! TIA.
My closest Peace Corps neighbor, Josh, had his parents come visit the last two weeks, so I went with them to visit the Nikolo-koba National Park about 30 km south of my village. We stayed for two days and saw plenty of waterbuck, warthogs, hippos, crocodiles, baboons, and monkeys. Late the second night we also heard a lion. There aren't too many left (and no elephants). Thirty years ago, when the government declared the area a national park, they forced out the villages. (Half of the people who live in my village used to live in the park, so this affected quite a few people.) When people lived in the area, if someone wanted to go hunting, they had to ask permission from the chiefs. This was a way to keep the animal populations healthy. Once everyone was forced out, however, everyone took advantage and populations plummetted. Only recently have they been growing again. Interesting. As an aside, Josh and I had a great time speaking Jaxanke/Bambara to everyone who worked in the park. Usually when we leave our villages people speak Pulaar or Wolof, but this time we were around our "own." :-) Late the second night around the campfire, we got our new friends to share some traditional Bambara folklore. Sometimes it's good fun knowing the local language!
After the National Park, I continued with Josh and his parents up north, following the Senegal River around the border of Mauritania up to Saint Louis in the north-west corner of Senegal on the coast. It was apparently the first French settlement in Africa and the capital of French West Africa. A small little colonial town, it felt like we were far from Senegal. It even rained!
Yesterday I made it to Dakar. This weekend is WAIST, the West African International Softball Tournament, with ex-pats from across West Africa attending. Should be a good time! Afterward, we have a country-wide meeting with all the Peace Corps volunteers and our new director. It's great to be in Dakar with all its ammenities, but also a little overwhelming. I also feel like a tourist again; no one here speaks Bambara!
A huge thanks again for your support with the health hut! You have made a difference!
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Happy New Year
It’s hard to believe that it is 2008 – almost the end of this decade – and also that I have been here for almost a year now. I spent Christmas and New Years working at an eye clinic in Bakel, a medium sized town in eastern Senegal on the border with Mauritania. Dr. Judith Simon, a Hungarian/American doctor from New Jersey, came to hold the clinic and perform free cataract surgeries. She does about two missions a year using her own money and finding donations of medicine and glasses to give out. Pretty cool thing to do for vacation! I was one of two volunteers who helped screen patients. We screened about 150 people each day, while Judith performed 7 surgeries each day. It was quite the operation, especially with five different languages going on at one time. Most people spoke either Bambara or Pulaar, but quite a few people also spoke Soninke, which none of us spoke, so we had to pull a translator out of the crowd. This meant that the doctor would tell us something in English, we would tell someone else in Pulaar, and then they would translate finally to Soninke. Exactly like the game of “telephone!” Somehow it all worked out. I sat in on a few cataract surgeries and a couple of trachoma surgeries, something that I obviously couldn’t have done back home. Trachoma causes your eyelids to turn under and your eyelashes scratch your cornea causing blindness. The surgery turns the eyelids back to “normal” preventing any further blindness and greatly improving comfort. Really fascinating!
Needless to say, the entire trip was exhausting, but really interesting and a great way to spend the holidays. It definitely didn’t feel like Christmas (especially in 80-90 degree weather without any hint of Christmas whatsoever), but it was great to be with other Americans and great to be working together on such a worthwhile project. While some patients were upset that we couldn’t do more for them (if we didn’t have glasses that were appropriate or if they had glaucoma), but many were thankful that we were there. Even more touching, I felt, was the compassion that many of the volunteers showed the patients. Despite long days dealing with literally hundreds of people (and multiple linguistic boundaries), my fellow Peace Corps volunteers kept their patience and compassion. A great realization of humanity…
Back in the village, my host family just finished picking all of our cotton, which means harvest is done! We are now “processing” some of the food crops. Yesterday we started on the peanuts. The plants have been pulled up from the ground and are now dried sitting in piles in the field. The men hit the piles with sticks, breaking apart the peanut from the plant matter. The women then fill basins and pour out the peanuts/leaves/stems into the wind. The heavier peanuts fall into a nice pile while the lighter plant matter flies nicely away. Really effective way to collect the peanuts – and shows how in-tune they are with the environment, since it is windy most mornings (after 9 AM) now during the dry season. Now we just have to shell them all… which will take basically happen everyday until the next planting season!
(When Josh, my closest neighbor, returned to his village after the holidays, he found five fresh chicken eggs waiting for him in his basket of clothes! TIA… Thankfully I wasn’t so “lucky.”)
In other news, I attended a region-wide declaration against “female genital cutting” (FGC) held by Tostan, a literacy organization (and now also a female-advocacy organization) started by a former Senegal Peace Corps Volunteer awhile back. Representation from 900 villages came to Tamba to march through town. We ended at the stadium where different dance troupes performed skits, songs and dances. Female circumcision as a right of passage has been traditionally practiced by both Pulaar and Bambara cultures, but after many villages have had literacy classes (provided by Tostan), women have decided that they no longer consent to the practice. (As an aside, Tostan recently won the Hilton Humanitarian Award; there’s a link to their website on the right.)
I’ll also be working with Wula Nafaa, a USAID sponsored project, to start tree nurseries at three sites near my village. Apparently behind my village is a protected forest. Wula Nafaa (which literally means “uses of the forest” in Bambara) has worked with villages in my area to sustainably produce and sell charcoal. Now they are expanding their project to start these tree nurseries to be able to replenish the forest, build a natural “border” around the forest, and also to make trees available for purchase for personal or public spaces within the villages. I’m attending a training in Tamba the next few days on how to build tree nurseries and then I’ll be working (along with two other Peace Corps volunteers) with local counterparts in each of the three villages. While one site is basically in my village, the other two are accessible about 12 miles through the forest! We have a lot of bike riding ahead of us!
As a final note, thank you to everyone who has donated thus far to help build a health hut in my village! The response in the first couple of weeks after it was posted online was quite touching and I really appreciated the personal e-mails that I got from people who donated. Last week my neighbor gave birth to a baby boy, but he died three days later of an “obstructed gut.” Having a health hut in the village probably wouldn’t have saved him, but it would have been one step towards overall better health. This sad event was yet another reminder that this project is necessary.
At this point, it looks like I still need $1,600 at this point, so if you know of anyone who would be interested in helping with this sort of thing, PLEASE pass on the information! We are starting to make the bricks with the contributions of the village, but we are otherwise waiting for it to be fully funded. Ideally we would like to finish building by April before it gets too hot to move. Many, many thanks!!! (And a special thanks to my cousin, Julia Klein, who raised funds as part of her Bat Mitzvah celebration!)
Needless to say, the entire trip was exhausting, but really interesting and a great way to spend the holidays. It definitely didn’t feel like Christmas (especially in 80-90 degree weather without any hint of Christmas whatsoever), but it was great to be with other Americans and great to be working together on such a worthwhile project. While some patients were upset that we couldn’t do more for them (if we didn’t have glasses that were appropriate or if they had glaucoma), but many were thankful that we were there. Even more touching, I felt, was the compassion that many of the volunteers showed the patients. Despite long days dealing with literally hundreds of people (and multiple linguistic boundaries), my fellow Peace Corps volunteers kept their patience and compassion. A great realization of humanity…
Back in the village, my host family just finished picking all of our cotton, which means harvest is done! We are now “processing” some of the food crops. Yesterday we started on the peanuts. The plants have been pulled up from the ground and are now dried sitting in piles in the field. The men hit the piles with sticks, breaking apart the peanut from the plant matter. The women then fill basins and pour out the peanuts/leaves/stems into the wind. The heavier peanuts fall into a nice pile while the lighter plant matter flies nicely away. Really effective way to collect the peanuts – and shows how in-tune they are with the environment, since it is windy most mornings (after 9 AM) now during the dry season. Now we just have to shell them all… which will take basically happen everyday until the next planting season!
(When Josh, my closest neighbor, returned to his village after the holidays, he found five fresh chicken eggs waiting for him in his basket of clothes! TIA… Thankfully I wasn’t so “lucky.”)
In other news, I attended a region-wide declaration against “female genital cutting” (FGC) held by Tostan, a literacy organization (and now also a female-advocacy organization) started by a former Senegal Peace Corps Volunteer awhile back. Representation from 900 villages came to Tamba to march through town. We ended at the stadium where different dance troupes performed skits, songs and dances. Female circumcision as a right of passage has been traditionally practiced by both Pulaar and Bambara cultures, but after many villages have had literacy classes (provided by Tostan), women have decided that they no longer consent to the practice. (As an aside, Tostan recently won the Hilton Humanitarian Award; there’s a link to their website on the right.)
I’ll also be working with Wula Nafaa, a USAID sponsored project, to start tree nurseries at three sites near my village. Apparently behind my village is a protected forest. Wula Nafaa (which literally means “uses of the forest” in Bambara) has worked with villages in my area to sustainably produce and sell charcoal. Now they are expanding their project to start these tree nurseries to be able to replenish the forest, build a natural “border” around the forest, and also to make trees available for purchase for personal or public spaces within the villages. I’m attending a training in Tamba the next few days on how to build tree nurseries and then I’ll be working (along with two other Peace Corps volunteers) with local counterparts in each of the three villages. While one site is basically in my village, the other two are accessible about 12 miles through the forest! We have a lot of bike riding ahead of us!
As a final note, thank you to everyone who has donated thus far to help build a health hut in my village! The response in the first couple of weeks after it was posted online was quite touching and I really appreciated the personal e-mails that I got from people who donated. Last week my neighbor gave birth to a baby boy, but he died three days later of an “obstructed gut.” Having a health hut in the village probably wouldn’t have saved him, but it would have been one step towards overall better health. This sad event was yet another reminder that this project is necessary.
At this point, it looks like I still need $1,600 at this point, so if you know of anyone who would be interested in helping with this sort of thing, PLEASE pass on the information! We are starting to make the bricks with the contributions of the village, but we are otherwise waiting for it to be fully funded. Ideally we would like to finish building by April before it gets too hot to move. Many, many thanks!!! (And a special thanks to my cousin, Julia Klein, who raised funds as part of her Bat Mitzvah celebration!)
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