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.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Happy Ramadan...?
The month-long celebration of Ramadan began last Thursday. I am not totally sure about the religious significance of the holiday but in practical terms it means that everyone fasts from sunrise to sunset, and fasting means no eating or drinking. I decided to participate as well, since I am healthy and since I do want to be part of this community. I have told them I am still drinking water though, since I think it is unhealthy not to, and I have also secretly sneaked some snacks in my room. (Please don’t tell Allah!) We all wake up between 4-5 AM to have breakfast, which is monoo (our regular porridge made from corn meal and sugar). Once the evening prayer is said at sunset we break the fast by eating bread and café, which is actually a sort of tea made from kinkiliba leaves, powdered milk and sugar. Unfortunately it is really good, although not too healthy. (I should note that there are several mud ovens in my village but they are only used now, during Ramadan and for other special occasions like weddings or baptisms.) A few hours after sunset, after the final prayer that occurs around 9 PM, we have a bit dinner to try to get us through the next day. After not eating all day and then gorging in the evening, I fall asleep quicker than ever. It is amazing too how much hunger can affect everything – your mood, your energy level, your patience with small children, and your ability (or inability) to work in the fields or go on an evening run. I have learned that nothing important can ever happen after about 2 PM because everyone, including myself, is a bit tired. It seems, too, that with the added sugar in the evening the kids are especially hyper, but maybe it is just in comparison with the rest of us!
One unexpected side effect of Ramadan is that, for the most part, it is keeping my mind off of the big questions like: Why am I here? What good am I doing? Am I doing what is right and useful? Instead, I have spent literally hours daydreaming about food or the lack thereof. Specifically, I am embarrassed to say that I cannot get my mind off of burritos or enchiladas. (Living in the Mission in San Francisco spoiled me!) At first I thought it was somewhat absurd that a developing country like Senegal would spend a month being hungry. Obviously they are doing it for a reason, and there is nothing like serving higher purposes to get one motivated, but it surprised me. However, on a personal note, it has made me appreciate all that my village and the country does have here in Senegal. This period of fasting is not due to a lack of food, like many other places in the world.
This leads me to something I have been thinking about for awhile. Perhaps it is just because I am now so well integrated, but it doesn’t seem to me that my village is “poor.” We do not have electricity or running water, but people are relatively healthy, there is plenty of food, there is a primary school, and people do leave to find work other than local farming. I have begun to wonder, what is poverty, or what do we think of as poverty? Anyone reading this blog (besides other volunteers who may or may not agree with me) may think I am crazy; of course my village is poor – it is in rural Africa, and like I said, we have no electricity or running water! In the places I have traveled and the many places I have not but have seen pictures or read articles, I think of the “poor” as either in urban settings, trying to get by in a crowded system where there are no jobs and no security net or desolate in the desert, without any resources at all. I don’t know where I’m going with this topic, but I think especially with so much recent discussion about “development” in the “third world” we should think about what that means, and at the basic level, what we mean by “poverty.” Comparing themselves to me and all Americans, my village thinks they are poor. Perhaps they are right. But where they are in the world, they have access to plenty of wood to build their fires and cook their food. The rains are sufficient enough to grow their crops without additional irrigation. Their crops can sustain their families each year and provide some income. Each family has access to a well with clean water. The kids can go to primary school and travel to Missirah to go to the middle school if they pass the necessary test. There are two mosques in my village for people to pray. Most people even have cell phones. And it seems like almost everyone knows someone who lives and works in Dakar, Spain or France and sends back their earnings. In what ways are we rich as Americans? In what ways are we poor? As citizens of one of the most powerful nations, I think our definitions of these terms has a lot to do with the way we interact with the rest of the world, whether it be through sending individual donations to development or relief organizations, or through our government’s policies.
On a more personal note, I had a quick, minor breakdown one day last week. My one plan for the day – to go visit my closest Peace Corps neighbor – fell through because he was sick. I didn’t want to go back to my village since I had planned to be away for the day, but at that point, I didn’t know what to do with myself. All of a sudden all of my fears and insecurities came flooding back to me. What am I doing here? Am I really going to be able to make a difference and also become a better person because of my time here? Does my village even care that I am here? Have I learned Bambara enough to even communicate successfully with people? Can I live the village lifestyle for another year-and-a-half or will I slowly but surely actually die from boredom and intellectual and emotional un-fulfillment? *Sigh.*
I had a sleepless night and a few conversations with some friends. The next couple of days I realized (or re-realized) something important for perhaps all Peace Corps volunteers to realize: I do not work for a regular non-profit – I am a volunteer with the Peace Corps. That sounds silly to type out, and maybe it is. On one hand, it has been hard for me to cope without having a set agenda, set responsibilities, things that I would find by working for a non-profit. On the other hand, there is a freedom that comes from being, essentially, on my own in a village. I may not have access to large amounts of funding or even resources, but then that is not what the Peace Corps is all about, and indeed, perhaps that is only one type of “development” work. Instead, the Peace Corps is about sharing, about experiencing, both from my perspective and from my community’s perspective. There is something powerful to be said that this institution was set up on the belief that an individual, just through the act of being an individual, can affect change on other individuals in a positive and worthwhile way. For better or for worse, the U.S. government has not granted me with hoards of cash or polio vaccinations to give away. They trust and somewhere, believe that by being the American me that I am, I can and will give something positive to my community. Anyway, I am glad that I have come (or am coming) to this realization; I may not dramatically improve the way of life here in Madina Guinguineo or may not really improve it at all. But by helping my sisters in their cotton field, by playing with the kids, by telling my younger brothers that not all Americans have money and that life is hard wherever you go, maybe those are things worth my time and energy. Maybe they are fruitful. And maybe I too, will gain something from trying.
Well, that looks like enough rambling and grammatical mistakes for one entry! I hear there is a popular song called “Delilah” back in the States. What other very important things am I missing? I guess I might never know!
One unexpected side effect of Ramadan is that, for the most part, it is keeping my mind off of the big questions like: Why am I here? What good am I doing? Am I doing what is right and useful? Instead, I have spent literally hours daydreaming about food or the lack thereof. Specifically, I am embarrassed to say that I cannot get my mind off of burritos or enchiladas. (Living in the Mission in San Francisco spoiled me!) At first I thought it was somewhat absurd that a developing country like Senegal would spend a month being hungry. Obviously they are doing it for a reason, and there is nothing like serving higher purposes to get one motivated, but it surprised me. However, on a personal note, it has made me appreciate all that my village and the country does have here in Senegal. This period of fasting is not due to a lack of food, like many other places in the world.
This leads me to something I have been thinking about for awhile. Perhaps it is just because I am now so well integrated, but it doesn’t seem to me that my village is “poor.” We do not have electricity or running water, but people are relatively healthy, there is plenty of food, there is a primary school, and people do leave to find work other than local farming. I have begun to wonder, what is poverty, or what do we think of as poverty? Anyone reading this blog (besides other volunteers who may or may not agree with me) may think I am crazy; of course my village is poor – it is in rural Africa, and like I said, we have no electricity or running water! In the places I have traveled and the many places I have not but have seen pictures or read articles, I think of the “poor” as either in urban settings, trying to get by in a crowded system where there are no jobs and no security net or desolate in the desert, without any resources at all. I don’t know where I’m going with this topic, but I think especially with so much recent discussion about “development” in the “third world” we should think about what that means, and at the basic level, what we mean by “poverty.” Comparing themselves to me and all Americans, my village thinks they are poor. Perhaps they are right. But where they are in the world, they have access to plenty of wood to build their fires and cook their food. The rains are sufficient enough to grow their crops without additional irrigation. Their crops can sustain their families each year and provide some income. Each family has access to a well with clean water. The kids can go to primary school and travel to Missirah to go to the middle school if they pass the necessary test. There are two mosques in my village for people to pray. Most people even have cell phones. And it seems like almost everyone knows someone who lives and works in Dakar, Spain or France and sends back their earnings. In what ways are we rich as Americans? In what ways are we poor? As citizens of one of the most powerful nations, I think our definitions of these terms has a lot to do with the way we interact with the rest of the world, whether it be through sending individual donations to development or relief organizations, or through our government’s policies.
On a more personal note, I had a quick, minor breakdown one day last week. My one plan for the day – to go visit my closest Peace Corps neighbor – fell through because he was sick. I didn’t want to go back to my village since I had planned to be away for the day, but at that point, I didn’t know what to do with myself. All of a sudden all of my fears and insecurities came flooding back to me. What am I doing here? Am I really going to be able to make a difference and also become a better person because of my time here? Does my village even care that I am here? Have I learned Bambara enough to even communicate successfully with people? Can I live the village lifestyle for another year-and-a-half or will I slowly but surely actually die from boredom and intellectual and emotional un-fulfillment? *Sigh.*
I had a sleepless night and a few conversations with some friends. The next couple of days I realized (or re-realized) something important for perhaps all Peace Corps volunteers to realize: I do not work for a regular non-profit – I am a volunteer with the Peace Corps. That sounds silly to type out, and maybe it is. On one hand, it has been hard for me to cope without having a set agenda, set responsibilities, things that I would find by working for a non-profit. On the other hand, there is a freedom that comes from being, essentially, on my own in a village. I may not have access to large amounts of funding or even resources, but then that is not what the Peace Corps is all about, and indeed, perhaps that is only one type of “development” work. Instead, the Peace Corps is about sharing, about experiencing, both from my perspective and from my community’s perspective. There is something powerful to be said that this institution was set up on the belief that an individual, just through the act of being an individual, can affect change on other individuals in a positive and worthwhile way. For better or for worse, the U.S. government has not granted me with hoards of cash or polio vaccinations to give away. They trust and somewhere, believe that by being the American me that I am, I can and will give something positive to my community. Anyway, I am glad that I have come (or am coming) to this realization; I may not dramatically improve the way of life here in Madina Guinguineo or may not really improve it at all. But by helping my sisters in their cotton field, by playing with the kids, by telling my younger brothers that not all Americans have money and that life is hard wherever you go, maybe those are things worth my time and energy. Maybe they are fruitful. And maybe I too, will gain something from trying.
Well, that looks like enough rambling and grammatical mistakes for one entry! I hear there is a popular song called “Delilah” back in the States. What other very important things am I missing? I guess I might never know!
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Time Flies...
Just as I was so surprised how quickly our In-Service Training came, it is also suddenly over. It seems true that while days go by really slowly for a Peace Corps volunteer in Senegal, the weeks and months start flying by. IST was fairly productive; I have a better plan of what to do when getting back to my village and I actually feel somewhat busy and I wonder if I can actually get it all done. It was also nice to hang out with friends everyday and do “American” things, or just speak in English. (I am afraid that I have forgotten a good chunk of Bambara; something again to work on when I get back to my village.)
Hearing everyone else’s experiences at site was also reassuring. Quite a few other people in the health program also felt like they have counterparts who are already trained to give causeries, which was the said purpose of the health program. It is clear now that the Project Plan for health volunteers in Senegal needs to be changed, and in fact, it is in that process already. It is also interesting though that other NGOs (like Africare) and the Senegalese government itself through the district health posts are already training village counterparts to give health talks and basic first aid. If this is happening at such a systemic level, have Peace Corps volunteers outlived their usefulness? There is obviously much that can still be done, in my opinion (or else I would go home tomorrow!). Just the fact that handfuls of people have already gotten malaria the past few months in my village is one indicator.
I’ve had a bit of time to really think about my role here, as well. As a “development worker,” the idea is to make all of our projects completely sustainable through “skills transfer.” Instead of building development “skeletons,” buildings or structures that end up not being utilized, the focus of Peace Corps is to train or teach others. The three “big” things that my village has asked me for has been a small bridge to cross the creek that forms during the rainy season, a health hut so there is a place to receive medical care, and an addition to the school (about half of the students have class outside under a thatch shade structure). I don’t want to spend all of my time during my service just fundraising, but at the same time, these are the problems that they approached me with. If I do have access to resources, even just other NGOs in Tamba, who am I to tell them “I don’t want to”? (Sorry for the rambling, but there is a new computer at the regional house and while it doesn’t have internet, it has a beautiful word processor!)
Besides these big ticket projects, I also want to start a weekly girls’ group and teach a weekly class at the primary school. The next month or two I also want to do a vaccination project (to find how who still needs vaccinations and why they haven’t gone). I’ll also be working with some other volunteers to plan a “Tour des Femmes,” a 7-day bike tour in January with 15 middle school girls from Kolda to Tamba, a 225 km ride here in southern Senegal. Each day we will stop at a new village along the way and give talks/skits on health and education. In addition to starting these discussions in the villages we hit, we also hope to really empower the girls to see the importance in their own education and their own “mobility.”
To regress, training ended in Thies on Saturday. I went to Dakar for a few days to a SeneGAD meeting (a committee of volunteers to work on gender and development issues), and also just to see some of Dakar. Now that I have a better idea of the layout of the city and all it has to offer, it no longer seems like such a scary place. We took one day to go to Goree Island, a slave trading post. Unfortunately there wasn’t too much information on its history, but despite its horrible past, it was quite a beautiful little island that is now inhabited with lots of artists, some of whom live in old WWII bunkers. The last primary activity of my few days in Dakar was eating; in four days I think I had four falafels and four bowls of ice cream. Oh how spoiled I was!
A few of us took a car back to Tamba yesterday. We ended up leaving close to 9 AM and arrived somewhere around 6 PM. It wouldn’t take that long in the States, but most of the time the road has so many potholes that it is quicker to drive on the dirt shoulder. Nevertheless, dodging the potholes makes for a long ride that sometimes feels like we are in a video game with all the swerving. It is incredible to see how much the landscape has changed since the first time I made this trip in May. It was mostly desert then, but now corn has grown above my head and green grass is waist high. Instead of never seeing a cloud, it rains everyday here and cumulous clouds are stacked high into the sky. Living in a beautiful place makes life a tad bit easier!
I’ll be riding my bike back to my village the next couple of days after getting some stuff done here in Tamba. I’m a bit nervous to go back after being gone for almost a month. (I hope I haven’t forgotten too much of my language!) It will be nice to really get started on some projects, but at the same time, there is now an expectation that I will really “deliver.” I am glad that the orientation stages of being here are (for the most part) over, but I hope I can easily transition into a “productive” stage.
I hope all is well in the States… Happy Labor Day!
Hearing everyone else’s experiences at site was also reassuring. Quite a few other people in the health program also felt like they have counterparts who are already trained to give causeries, which was the said purpose of the health program. It is clear now that the Project Plan for health volunteers in Senegal needs to be changed, and in fact, it is in that process already. It is also interesting though that other NGOs (like Africare) and the Senegalese government itself through the district health posts are already training village counterparts to give health talks and basic first aid. If this is happening at such a systemic level, have Peace Corps volunteers outlived their usefulness? There is obviously much that can still be done, in my opinion (or else I would go home tomorrow!). Just the fact that handfuls of people have already gotten malaria the past few months in my village is one indicator.
I’ve had a bit of time to really think about my role here, as well. As a “development worker,” the idea is to make all of our projects completely sustainable through “skills transfer.” Instead of building development “skeletons,” buildings or structures that end up not being utilized, the focus of Peace Corps is to train or teach others. The three “big” things that my village has asked me for has been a small bridge to cross the creek that forms during the rainy season, a health hut so there is a place to receive medical care, and an addition to the school (about half of the students have class outside under a thatch shade structure). I don’t want to spend all of my time during my service just fundraising, but at the same time, these are the problems that they approached me with. If I do have access to resources, even just other NGOs in Tamba, who am I to tell them “I don’t want to”? (Sorry for the rambling, but there is a new computer at the regional house and while it doesn’t have internet, it has a beautiful word processor!)
Besides these big ticket projects, I also want to start a weekly girls’ group and teach a weekly class at the primary school. The next month or two I also want to do a vaccination project (to find how who still needs vaccinations and why they haven’t gone). I’ll also be working with some other volunteers to plan a “Tour des Femmes,” a 7-day bike tour in January with 15 middle school girls from Kolda to Tamba, a 225 km ride here in southern Senegal. Each day we will stop at a new village along the way and give talks/skits on health and education. In addition to starting these discussions in the villages we hit, we also hope to really empower the girls to see the importance in their own education and their own “mobility.”
To regress, training ended in Thies on Saturday. I went to Dakar for a few days to a SeneGAD meeting (a committee of volunteers to work on gender and development issues), and also just to see some of Dakar. Now that I have a better idea of the layout of the city and all it has to offer, it no longer seems like such a scary place. We took one day to go to Goree Island, a slave trading post. Unfortunately there wasn’t too much information on its history, but despite its horrible past, it was quite a beautiful little island that is now inhabited with lots of artists, some of whom live in old WWII bunkers. The last primary activity of my few days in Dakar was eating; in four days I think I had four falafels and four bowls of ice cream. Oh how spoiled I was!
A few of us took a car back to Tamba yesterday. We ended up leaving close to 9 AM and arrived somewhere around 6 PM. It wouldn’t take that long in the States, but most of the time the road has so many potholes that it is quicker to drive on the dirt shoulder. Nevertheless, dodging the potholes makes for a long ride that sometimes feels like we are in a video game with all the swerving. It is incredible to see how much the landscape has changed since the first time I made this trip in May. It was mostly desert then, but now corn has grown above my head and green grass is waist high. Instead of never seeing a cloud, it rains everyday here and cumulous clouds are stacked high into the sky. Living in a beautiful place makes life a tad bit easier!
I’ll be riding my bike back to my village the next couple of days after getting some stuff done here in Tamba. I’m a bit nervous to go back after being gone for almost a month. (I hope I haven’t forgotten too much of my language!) It will be nice to really get started on some projects, but at the same time, there is now an expectation that I will really “deliver.” I am glad that the orientation stages of being here are (for the most part) over, but I hope I can easily transition into a “productive” stage.
I hope all is well in the States… Happy Labor Day!
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Perspective
Being back in Thies for training is like a trip back in time. It is strange to be back in the place where I started, and it is really nice to see how much I have changed. My first time walking through the market here made me nervous and stressed out and now it is not a big deal at all. I can speak with my family in Mandinka or French and we can easily understand each other. So many times I feel completely inept in the village with my language and my role, yet now I feel so much more confident. It is a relief to see that I actually do know a bit about this place and am not just fresh off the plane.
Our three-week language and technical training started yesterday. I tested higher in my Mandinka/Bambara so am now taking Pulafuta, a Fula language. Fula/Pulaar is apparently the largest language in West Africa. Pulaar people were traditionally nomadic herders. The language is completely different from Mandinka/Bambara and after 3 hours today my mind feels like mush. But I forgot to mention the reason why I am taking Pulafuta... My village is 1/3 Bambara and 2/3 Pulafuta. The Pulafuta moved to Senegal from Guinea at least 40 years ago. However, they settled in the national park just south of where I live. About 30 years ago the Senegalese government decided this was unacceptable and relocated them to my village. There is virtually no integration in my village between the two ethnic groups. Thus, the Pulafuta's don't speak Bambara and I have done a poor job interacting with them thus far. These next few weeks may make me utterly confused, but it will be worth it. And it will be pretty awesome to know Pulafuta, Bambara/Mandinka/Jaxanke, and French. =)
Being back in Thies is great, too, because it is a city! People are used to foreigners so I don't get harassed a s much. Probably the best part about being back (besides seeing old friends) is that there is food. I am afraid I have become really obsessed with food after 2 1/2 months in the village. I had a dream last night about going to a supermarket and seeing all the cereal (of all things) for purchase. The food at the training center is full of vegtables and protein and the possibilities seem endless at the few restaurants in town. I might gain a few pounds in the next 3 weeks. (I think everyone but me has lost weight, one person over 40 pounds!)
Our three-week language and technical training started yesterday. I tested higher in my Mandinka/Bambara so am now taking Pulafuta, a Fula language. Fula/Pulaar is apparently the largest language in West Africa. Pulaar people were traditionally nomadic herders. The language is completely different from Mandinka/Bambara and after 3 hours today my mind feels like mush. But I forgot to mention the reason why I am taking Pulafuta... My village is 1/3 Bambara and 2/3 Pulafuta. The Pulafuta moved to Senegal from Guinea at least 40 years ago. However, they settled in the national park just south of where I live. About 30 years ago the Senegalese government decided this was unacceptable and relocated them to my village. There is virtually no integration in my village between the two ethnic groups. Thus, the Pulafuta's don't speak Bambara and I have done a poor job interacting with them thus far. These next few weeks may make me utterly confused, but it will be worth it. And it will be pretty awesome to know Pulafuta, Bambara/Mandinka/Jaxanke, and French. =)
Being back in Thies is great, too, because it is a city! People are used to foreigners so I don't get harassed a s much. Probably the best part about being back (besides seeing old friends) is that there is food. I am afraid I have become really obsessed with food after 2 1/2 months in the village. I had a dream last night about going to a supermarket and seeing all the cereal (of all things) for purchase. The food at the training center is full of vegtables and protein and the possibilities seem endless at the few restaurants in town. I might gain a few pounds in the next 3 weeks. (I think everyone but me has lost weight, one person over 40 pounds!)
Thursday, August 2, 2007
A Plan
The past couple of weeks I have had meetings with both the women and the men in the village to discuss the problems they face and possible solutions. The discussions quickly turned into wish lists, but it was nevertheless interesting and productive to hold the meetings. While the women focused on getting mosquito nets and medicine for the children, the men (who are also more used to having meetings) informed me that a bridge really is needed to get from Madina to the road (to get in to the main town). During the rainy season a low point turns into a creek; I can attest to that fact since it happened on Monday. The kids had a great time swimming but it was fairly impassable. The second thing they would like to have is a health hut (a small clinic) so that they wouldn't have to go all the way to Missirah if they have a minor injury or malaria. They also mentioned a tractor and surprisingly, help with a watermelon garden. I'm going to gladly look for seeds while I am in Thies. I'm really thankful for some direction and especially direction that has come directly from the community.
The next 3 weeks will be spent doing the final part of our training in Thies. I'll get a bit more language (hopefully the right language this time) and some other technical training. I'm going to start to try to make contacts with local NGOs who might be able to fund or help with my new projects. I'm pretty excited to catch up with the other volunteers again and also to be in a city for a few weeks. (Namely, I can't wait for the food!)
Happy August!
The next 3 weeks will be spent doing the final part of our training in Thies. I'll get a bit more language (hopefully the right language this time) and some other technical training. I'm going to start to try to make contacts with local NGOs who might be able to fund or help with my new projects. I'm pretty excited to catch up with the other volunteers again and also to be in a city for a few weeks. (Namely, I can't wait for the food!)
Happy August!
Monday, July 23, 2007
I Participate in Subsistence Farming and Eat Food from the World Food Programme
I never thought I would write the words of the title of this blog. It has rained a bit but not as much as everyone had hoped. Nevertheless, planting corn, cotton and peanuts has begun. The women in my family each have small plots of cotton that they tend to by hand, but the men plow out large fields with "machines" pulled by horses or cattle. (We are fairly well-off; most families have donkeys.) After plowing, you take the same metal machine with a different attachment and drop the seeds. A final run covers the seeds and we move to a new field. The men usually work both mornings and evenings. I usually join them for part of the day and they appreciate the help. Plus it is nice to do actual hard work, feel tired, and feel somewhat productive and proud. It's pretty amazing to think that our planet can support food production for so many people. It's also amazing that so many people grow their own food. People from Yuba City are familiar with farming, but otherwise, many people in the States have (probably) never met a farmer, when it is the primary "occupation" in the world.
As for the World Food Programme, they give yellow peas, oil, rice (I think) and probably other goodies to my school, which distributes the food to the families for the students. I haven't seen anything from the US yet, but definitely Canada. Thank you WFP.
Not much else has happened in the village... except that the monkey next door apparently died from a fatal kick from a donkey and the chicken that someone gave me as a "hut-warming"present now has four chicks. Exciting. =)
Going to Kedegou for the 4th of July was amazing. I found a bright pink and yellow shirt with an American flag on it at the market. (Amazing the stuff you can find in markets here!) Going up to the waterfalls was incredible and a beautiful spot on this planet. We biked two hours from Kedegou and then hiked for a bit; one of the hardest mountain biking experiences of my life. Definitely fun, and definitely worth it. The landscape was lush -- really indescribably beautiful. Later in the evening we saw baboons and also a chimpanzee nest in a tree.
So... life here goes on. In August we will be back in Thies for 3 weeks for the last part of our training. It will be nice to go back to my homestay family there and to see other volunteers (and also get some more formal language and technical help). I'll final post some pictures of my site and of Kedegou when I get there, too.
Again, your emails and letters (and packages) mean a lot, or even just quick updates about what is going on. I often forget what day and sometimes even what month it is. Sometimes it seems like I have been here forever and I have no clue what is going on in the world or with anyone else.
Love from Senegal!
As for the World Food Programme, they give yellow peas, oil, rice (I think) and probably other goodies to my school, which distributes the food to the families for the students. I haven't seen anything from the US yet, but definitely Canada. Thank you WFP.
Not much else has happened in the village... except that the monkey next door apparently died from a fatal kick from a donkey and the chicken that someone gave me as a "hut-warming"present now has four chicks. Exciting. =)
Going to Kedegou for the 4th of July was amazing. I found a bright pink and yellow shirt with an American flag on it at the market. (Amazing the stuff you can find in markets here!) Going up to the waterfalls was incredible and a beautiful spot on this planet. We biked two hours from Kedegou and then hiked for a bit; one of the hardest mountain biking experiences of my life. Definitely fun, and definitely worth it. The landscape was lush -- really indescribably beautiful. Later in the evening we saw baboons and also a chimpanzee nest in a tree.
So... life here goes on. In August we will be back in Thies for 3 weeks for the last part of our training. It will be nice to go back to my homestay family there and to see other volunteers (and also get some more formal language and technical help). I'll final post some pictures of my site and of Kedegou when I get there, too.
Again, your emails and letters (and packages) mean a lot, or even just quick updates about what is going on. I often forget what day and sometimes even what month it is. Sometimes it seems like I have been here forever and I have no clue what is going on in the world or with anyone else.
Love from Senegal!
Monday, July 2, 2007
Happy 4th of July!
Thankfully things are slowly but surely getting better with me. The language is still slow but every once in awhile I tell myself that I should not be so hard on myself since I really am learning 3 languages at once, French, Jaxanke and Bambara. As people in my village are getting more used to me they know what I can say and what I cannot, so conversations are at least going a bit smoother. The few rains that we have had have also made for a beautiful landscape. I have started to go on runs in the evenings, and it has become one of my favorite times of the day and a great opportunity to appreciate some of the beautiful trees and birds in my area. I have also started to go to the health post in the main town (Missirah, 8 km away). It is sometimes a bit awkward since I do not have an official role and do not have a medical background, but I have assisted the midwife with two births which have been great learning experiences for me. Going to Missirah has also been a nice escape from village life.
School just got out so the two teachers have left for vacation. In anticipation of the rainy season and also the planting season there have been several marriages in my village; for a few days there was a tamtam (drumming and dancing) every night. It was also nice to talk to new people who came in from other villages.
I decided not to bike down to Kedegou for the 4th of July party but am still going down with a few other volunteers today or tomorrow. I am REALLY looking forward to seeing a new part of Senegal and of course spending a few days out of my village. Kedegou is south of here and gets a lot more rain so it is more lush.
If anyone would like to give a gift to my village, I would like to get a copy of Where There is No Doctor and A Book for Midwives in French from the Hesperian Foundation. (www.hesperian.org I think.) Once school starts again and the teachers return I would also like to work on getting the school a cement floor as it is dirt at the moment. They estimate that it would be 200 USD, so if anyone knows of an organization that might have funding for this sort of thing, let me know!
Hope you have a great 4th of July! =)
School just got out so the two teachers have left for vacation. In anticipation of the rainy season and also the planting season there have been several marriages in my village; for a few days there was a tamtam (drumming and dancing) every night. It was also nice to talk to new people who came in from other villages.
I decided not to bike down to Kedegou for the 4th of July party but am still going down with a few other volunteers today or tomorrow. I am REALLY looking forward to seeing a new part of Senegal and of course spending a few days out of my village. Kedegou is south of here and gets a lot more rain so it is more lush.
If anyone would like to give a gift to my village, I would like to get a copy of Where There is No Doctor and A Book for Midwives in French from the Hesperian Foundation. (www.hesperian.org I think.) Once school starts again and the teachers return I would also like to work on getting the school a cement floor as it is dirt at the moment. They estimate that it would be 200 USD, so if anyone knows of an organization that might have funding for this sort of thing, let me know!
Hope you have a great 4th of July! =)
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