I realized I forgot to update what has actually been going on…

To start, an animal “that comes out at night and is smaller than a dog called a waraning” ate my chicken and four chicks! How disappointing. I was about to come up with names for them. And, of course now I am afraid of whatever animal it was that ate them!

The rainy season supposedly comes to a close in mid-October but it has already slowed down a lot. It is hotter again and rains maybe once or twice a week. Crops are all growing and again, I am amazed at how different my village looks from when I first arrived. My family is primarily growing corn (caba), peanuts (tiga), and cotton (corondi). The women also have smaller plots with other vegetables including okra, bissap/hibiscus, tomatoes and squash. My family also has watermelons planted among a corn field, probably for space reasons and also to hide them!
The men and women still go to the fields even though they are fasting for Ramadan. The fields are all irrigated just from rain water; there are no ditches or anything because, frankly, it is not needed and there is no other water source. The “creek” that runs between my village and the road filled up for awhile during the rainy season but is now basically dry save for a few puddles/ponds. (As an aside, the teenage boys in my family took two days to “fish” in these small ponds. They first started with hook and bait, then tried to catch them with their hands and finally dredged the ponds. The fish look like small catfish to me and I was frankly a little grossed out by eating them since they survived in what was basically mud!) The men are now weeding their fields by plowing through the rows, while the women weed their fields by hand; a typical example of differing gender roles here.

I am still going to the clinic in the larger village on the road (Missirah) about once a week. Since it has been the rainy season, I don’t think there is a family in the area that hasn’t been affected by malaria. They are usually given a shot of quinine with additional meds to continue for a few days. Last week I spent the day basically handing out malaria meds; there were probably over 80 people who came for malaria treatment alone. It doesn’t seem to be a big deal to most people, although statistically some infants and older adults must die. Speaking of death, a baby in my village less than six months old died last week. They said it wasn’t due to malaria and it sounded like he had a longer neurological problem, but who knows. It kind of shook me up a little, especially since again, it didn’t seem like that big of a deal to anyone. Perhaps it is in the Senegalese culture to really hide feelings or perhaps it is something that they are unfortunately used to.

I have started writing proposals for funding for both a small bridge (over the creek that separates my village from the road) and also for a “health hut.” Last week members of my village sat down and figured out the entire budget for building a health hut. Their enthusiasm was quite impressive, although we need to verify prices and materials, of course. Usually at least one person comes to my brother and counterpart, Mamadou, each day to seek medical advice or basic first aid. (He has been trained by the doctor at the health clinic in Missirah.) Many villages in Senegal already do have health huts; ours is just our family compound. With the village’s enthusiasm and Mamadou’s training (and the trust that the village already has in him), I think that having a designated health structure would be utilized and would benefit the community. Once the school year starts in mid-October I plan on doing some health classes and starting a girls’ group, but for now, starting these larger projects is keeping me going. Like I said in past entries, I am hesitant about building “skeletons,” but so far my community has brought these issues to my attention (instead of vice versa), and their enthusiasm has made it impossible to not want to help.