Going, going....

It's been a full week in Dakar, me wandering through the Peace Corps Office with my check-list in hand, marking off the various administrative tasks and getting the right people to sign on the lines. But it's all done now! I turned in my completed Close of Service packet, and now (well, as of November 1st officially) I am an RPCV. "Returned Peace Corps Volunteer", for those who haven't been using our strange jargon for two years. It is anticlimactic, which I suppose is to be expected. Why should I feel any different just because I officially finished my service? It's one of those things that will take time to sink in. But already, as I enjoy pizzas and sandwiches and good wine and short skirts here in Dakar, the village lifestyle seems almost dreamlike. Did I ever really pull water from a well? Did I walk barefoot in a peanut field? Did I sleep in a mud hut? I KNOW I did these things, but they are so unlike my current reality. The whole thing is rather surreal. Still, it is satisfying to know that I accomplished all the paperwork so fast.

This will be my last blog entry, since soon I will no longer be a rich white girl in Senegal...I'll be a relatively poor one in the USA. Peace Corps was a grand challenge. It was difficult and frustrating and rewarding and most of all eye-opening. I've learned that you can adjust to just about anything, and that learning knows no limits. My village was wonderful to me, and I won't forget them, though that might not translate to me sending gifts and money as they seem to hope. And I hope they will remember me fondly, as well. I will miss all the good friends I've made here, and the amazingly supportive PCV community. I'll miss the Kaolack hosue library especially! And the special feeling of being so different, so noticeable on the street or in the dance club or on public transport. I dreaded sept-place taxi rides and cramming into alhum busses, but I think I will feel nostalgic even for sweating in such crowded autos. It's just been such a unique, uncomparable experience! I know it has changed me.

Paris is a moveable feast, as Hemingway said, and I know that to be true. But maybe Senegal is a moveable bowl of ceeb u jen. And in the future, maybe, I can come back and feel again the connection that will always exist now, between me and Senegal, and especially with that little village of Keur Ali Gueye, existing discreetly and warmly in its spot in the Kaolack peanut basin.

Leaving

I have left the village for good. It happened at 5:30am. I sat on the charette with all my things, moving away into the murky pre-dawn. I had spent the days previous walking around the village, saying goodbye to everyone, and popping inot each compound one more time. It was very calm and easy. People were appreciative; they said all sorts of nice things, thanking me for staying all two years and for the work I did and for being friendly with everyone in the village. For me it was odd to think that I wouldn't be doing that ever again. The whole thing hasn't set in yet, that I'm really and finally leaving. I have read over 150 books. I have attempted many diverse projects. The village is using hte latrines my friends and family gave money to build. My last lunch with the family was okra mafe. For dinner, millet with fish. They appreciated the gifts I brought. And it all ended with left'hand shakes (different from the typical right'hand shake. Using the left hand means you hope to meet again) and watching a horse trot along the dirt road into the dark. Now that it's done, I am having toruble thinking of things to say...this blog has gone way downhill! But leaving was bittersweet. I'll think about it for a long time. I am both ready and nervous to be home.

Applying myself

This is my last weekend in Kaolack! I plan to do the final village stretch for a full ten days, to say good bye to everyone in the surrounding towns that I have worked with, and to visit with everyone in the village before I go. I bought gifts for the family - school bags for the kids, fabric for the women, a nice briefcase and address book for my counterpart - and a bunch of kola nuts for the village elders. How strange, to be leaving soon....I can't quite wrap my mind around it.

Close of Service - so soon!

I spent the past couple of days reviewing my service, via the writing of reports I have to turn into Dakar. It is strange to list, one by one, the various things I have done over these past few years. So many of my projects didn't last, but I tried a lot of different activities. And some of them - the latrines, of course, and the school paintings, and the vetiver grass, and the Bookmobile - will actually continue to improve peoples' lives for awhile at least, in whatever small ways they can. In three more weeks, I'll head to the capital for my final medical review and administrative paperwork. And then it's done.

Ramadan finished last Sunday, with a huge lunch of village "sauce". This is kind of like a beef stroganoff: chunks of meat, lots of diced onion, fried potatoes, and macaroni, all cooked together in an oily dish that we scoop up with bits of mud-oven bread. It was greasy and delicious! After lunch I walked around the village to each compound, to say "bahaalma ak" - to ask forgiveness for whatever I might have done in-between Korite's. This is a nice tradition. We did it after Tabaski, too, and I love the feelings of peace and goodwill I get from wandering around, greeting people in this way.

The rains are still not done, though they have tapered off a little. Still, not reliably enough for me to trust the Bookmobile on these washed-out dirt roads. I think the next time it goes out will be with my project replacements. Two year-in Volunteers are taking over the Bookmobile, and I think they're going to do a great job. Everyone wish them luck!

Some peanuts are ripe, and people are getting ready for the big harvest which is just around the corner. The beans I extended are producing like crazy, as they always do for farmers who properly weed their fields. One guy has four rice-sacs full of dried beans! From only a kilo that I gave him! Sometimes, little successes like that make my whole week.

Mud

The rains are ridiculous this year! Here the millet, corn, and peanuts are nearly ripe, and it's pouring almost daily! All the dirt roads are now mud pits. In Kaolack, entire roads flooded up to the knees in places. Truly it's something. People are worrying now that too much rain will hurt the harvest, cause moldy grain etc. I'm worried because I want to do one more Bookmobile run before I leave, but until these roads dry up it's just not possible. So everyone pray for a speedy end to these crazy rains!
In more exciting news: I am going home in a month!!! Just bought my tickets. One to Paris for a week, then home to Seattle. It's something of a countdown here now, but I am keeping more or less busy, fantasizing about crepes and Mexican food all the while...

Rain and Ramadan

The month of September is notorious for erratic weather, and so far it is living up to expectations. It is the middle of Ramadan, so no one in the vilage is eating or drinking anything from sunup to sundown. They wake up at 5:30am to eat a few spoonfuls of "funde" - millet porridge - and then wait until around 7:30pm to drink a cup of coffee, a glass of bissap, and maybe a loaf of heavy village bread. The days pass extra slowly for me, since there is a low energy level all around. I spend a lot of time reading. Crops are slowly ripening, but not quite ready to harvest yet. Meanwhile, the rains have made cell phone service uncertain, and Internet nonexistant in Nioro.
A few days ago something happened to add some spice to this Ramadan schedule. In the evening, rain and speeding winds started to arrive. Before long there was lighting, heavy downpour, booming thunder right overhead, and the wind roared against my thin aluminum door. I lay in bed listening to the storm.
The next morning, when I tried to open my back door, I found all my millet-stalk fences lying on the ground. When I opened by front door, I encoutered an entire tree right on my steps! The storm had torn it down. Several of my backyard trees were snapped in two, and the family's fencing was all plastered to the earth, the fenceposts pulled from their holes. But our compound was lucky. Some peoples' roofs blew away; some older huts collapsed under the pelting rain. Almost all the village trees had some damage. Plenty of people are now missing walls.
It took a full day to put up all the fences, clear out the fallen timber, and salvage bits from where they had been scattered. Still, Keur Ali Gueye was fortunate in my mind. Despite all the destruction, most houses are still more or less intact, and miraulouly, no one was hurt that I know of.

Coumba ting-ting

My favorite rainy season bird has come again! In Wolof they call it "coumba ting-ting"; I think it may be named the Senegalese fire finch, but I'm not sure. In any case, I love to see them perched on the dark green millet stalks. Every time I see a coumba ting-ting I can't help but smile. They are so shocking to the eye! Their head and breast are perfectly black, but their neck and sides are a vivid, almost electric red. They just pop out of their surroundings like neon. and when they fly; it is only short distances, with a funny jerky motion accompanied by trilling chirps. Whenever I go out to the fields nowadays, I keep my eyes open and watching for that flash of vibrant crimson in the millet.
Village life is going on as usual, ndank ndank. All my prep work is done, since at this point the seeds I gave out have either been planted or they haven't; the nebedaye trees put into the ground or else they have already been made into leaf sauce. So I stroll around, taking notes on the state of the fields that I'm monitoring, weeding a row or two when I feel like it. The kids stay out working all morning, and sometimes the afternoon as well. Soon, though, that will stop, because Ramadan is coming again. It could be any day now. They are just waiting on the moon to decide when to begin the month-long fast. Last year during Ramadan I painted the maps and murals in the school. This year I think I will just enjoy the village, and maybe try to get some end-of-service paperwork out of the way.

Gerte tella nor

At last, full rainy season again! The bean seed I gave out is all seeded and sprouted, and so is the rice, corn, and soprghum. I didn't hand out any millet seed or peanut, but those are growing too, and looking beautiful. The millet is dark green and lush, while some of the early-ripening peanut varieties ("gerte tella nor") are already showing their charming yellow flowers. In my backyard I have intercropped two rows of corn and beans, and out behind my fence I tried to create a thick-mulched no-till garden of beans and bissap, with an intensive nebedaye plot. But after spending an entire morning weeding, thinning, and successfully making the garden look wonderful, I went out that afternoon and returned to find....no leaves on my bissap. They had been eaten by goats. I was so angry! But futily so, because there is nothing to be done. Little goats can get through even the barbed wire fence that is around my field, and the bissap was just too tempting for them. My only hope is that it will recover fast enough that the next time they come around, it will be big enough to get not entirely defoliated. Bah! Meanwhile I am enjoying the return to field labor. It's not hard for me, since I can take a break whenever I want, but people work all morning, and oftentimes all afternoon again, bent over at the waist, weeding up and down rows of peanut. I like to weed a row or two nd then walk for a bit to stretch out my back. It is physically demanding work. People who grow up and work in a village like mine get very strong, very young. Not like me! But I love the shock of a cold rain every other day or so, and the touch of warm soil beneath my bare soles as I do my little share of fieldwork.

Dr. Seuss in Wolof

Reading aloud to a remarkably respectful group in a village near Foundiougne.



It has been a long time since my last blog post! I haven't been busy, exactly, but somehow the time got away from me anyway. Things in the village are going, ndank ndank. People are farming, and most have seeded what I have them. I am more hands-off this season because there are so many other things to do, and besides the village is occupied with other activities, such as constructing their new mosque, which got financed from somewhere. There's a big green sign in Arabic no doubt explaining it, but of course I have no idea what that says. Many of the young men spend all day there, building, and of course there are also fields to be tilled. It's a busy season!

I just finished a long but satisfying week with the Bookmobile. Finally a little money came through so we were able to do another run, and it went extremely well! Actually, not all of it went smoothly. Because of the rains, the soil is soft, so almost once a day the heavy truck got stuck in the mud. It went in DEEP, and we had to solicit help from whoever happened to be nearby to dig out the tires and get the Bookmobile back on the squishy path. Our poor chauffeur exhausted himself every day just driving on these questionable bush roads, dodging potholes and maneuvering around bumpy deviations. On one memorable occasion, he exclaimed: "This road doesn't have potholes - it has wells!" Which is practically did. So our truck is feeling pretty battered. I'll recommend that from now on the Bookmobile only run in the dry season, when it can't damage anyone's field (that was a loud and intense situation) and the ground is packed, so it cannot get sucked into the dirt. I am just grateful that we got around to all the villages, and back to Kaolack again, safely and in mostly one piece.

Despite automobile difficulties, though, the program went smoothly. We left 150 books in each of four villages, checking them out to anyone who could write their name. Everyone loved it! We got such amazing welcomes everywhere we went. The villages cooked us tasty meals, and provided overnight accommodation (organized by their Volunteer, usually) as their contribution to the project. Meanwhile, we spent a day in each, distributing books and reading stories. One of the biggest hits was Dr. Seuss' "The Foot Book", which was fun and easy to translate into Wolof. Also, "Tikki tikki tango", that story about the little Chinese boy with the too-long name that I remember from my own childhood. They loved that one! Things were calm and people really seemed thrilled to have the Bookmobile in their villages. Seeing kids clustered around a book in the shade, looking through the pictures or sounding out French words, was reward in itself.

Still, I am exhausted from the terrible roads and constant break-downs. So, a weekend in Kaolack, then village time again, then another Ag conference, then back to the village again. Alhamdullilah!

Planting 2010

The season got off to a slower start this year, but by now it has established itself enough that people are well into rainy season work. Peanuts are sprouting again, along with delicate fields of tiny corn and millet like blades of grass. The farmers I gave seed to are slowly sowing it; the other day one man seeded his corn, and another his beans. No sorghum has been planted yet, and there are many more kilos of beans waiting, but there is time. This year I'm working with farmers in three villages, so I'll be doing more coming and going, which will be nice. Plus there's the Bookmobile to wrap up before I go! Hopefully we'll do another run in a week or two, now that a little funding has come in.
Now that it's rainy season, the horses are especially skinny, since they are working extra-hard and are out of good peanut fodder. The mares especially, since they are often nursing a foal as well as pulling a plow. Soon the grass will grow, though, and they'll have fresh greens to eat. But the birds are coming back! I remember how beautiful and various were all the birds of rainy season last year, and this time around it is the same. There are so many colors and species of birds! From tiny, bright finches; to iridescent starling-like birds; to shocking blue; to white and black striped birds with curved red beaks; to large brown-and-black ones, boldly colored. There are also butterflies. They like my flower bush the best, and congregate there in all their fluttering beauty. In the evening, crickets and toads compete to dominate the night noise. In the puddles in the road are minute wiggling tadpoles waiting to join the song in a few weeks.

Dad & Becca's Visit, plus rain

Dad and Becca waiting for a charette in Nioro, before heading to the village.


It's a much slower rainy season this year. Hopefully it will pick up soon, because the little baby corn and peanuts are thirsty! But Yallah is in charge of all that. I have been rushing around Senegal with Dad and Becca. We had a lot of fun, though it was a whirlwind! A couple good days in the village, where I extended all my seed. Focus this year on beans, with some corn and rice as well, and I am working with my village, as well as a nearby one where we hope to place a Volunteer soon, and a very progressive farmer in Nioro. Afterwards, we spent a good day at Keur Bamboung enjoying the beauty of the mangroves. As a nice surprise, the hotel invited a fantastic drumming-and-dance troupe there on our last night. They were amazing! Then a nice dinner in Dakar, drinks and some live music. A quick visit to Senegal, but a fun one. Now I am trying to do some more Bookmobile preparation and then head back to the village! I do miss them, not to mention that the agriculture work season is finally picking up. Now, too, many people from my stage are heading home in mere weeks. I'll be finished in three months...it's strange to think about. But there is plenty to be done before then.

chez Dakar

The Close of Service Conference in Dakar concluded this afternoon, and it went really well. We discussed all the things I had been wondering about, like the work environment at home, how to use Peace Corps in our resumes, what needs to be done administratively to finish our service, and how to communicate about Senegal to everyone in the USA. Our conference leader was really great. She kept us involved and interested in the sessions, and I for one learned a lot of important things in a short space of time. Meanwhile, it really IS good to be back in Senegal! My visit home went so smoothly, with no real culture shock at all, and the re-entry here went just as easily. Right off the plane, into a taxi I go (after bargaining in Wolof, as usual, to a reasonable price) and into the market downtown. And it felt GOOD to be here again. Truly! I admit that was a bit of a surprise, but it does, and I am so lucky that I am honestly delighted to be here still for a few more months. Now I know that home is still there, and Senegal and I still have things to teach each other before I go.
My wonderful counterpart - who I appreciate immensely because he is such a motivated worker and generally awesome guy - has called me twice glowing because such good things are happening in the village in my absence. They're working on constructing a health hut near the school, which will get stocked with basic medications and staffed by a trained "matrone". What little cement was leftover from the latrine project is going to that, and the work is happening! A nearby doctor promised to train the matrone (like a nurse-midwife) for free if the village did their own construction work, so hopefully he'll keep his word and Keur Ali Gueye will have a little health post of their own right in town. Also, the USAID project to spray rooms with pesticide has happened again, along with distribution of free mosquito nets for kids. Your tax dollars at work! He was really excited to tell me about how smoothly that went as well.

Who says you can't go home?

I'm home for ten days, for my brother's university graduation. And it is AMAZING! How even to describe it? There wasn't the culture shock I was expecting. Some things have changed, but not enough to make me feel disoriented. Seattle seems even more beautiful than ever, a veritable paved paradise, liberally splashed with thick groves of evergreens. There are flowers blooming and robins nesting. It is so lovely! When I see the familiar curve of the Space Needle, or the emerald patches of growing things dotted throughout the city, it feels so natural, as though I never left. That's how I feel I can describe it. Not surreal, not even startling in contrast to life in Senegal. Because when I am here, my I am ONLY here. When in Seattle, eating the food I love and being with my friends and family in this comfortable environment, it is the only kind of life I can concretely imagine. All other ways and places of living are like a fantasy, only half-real. And the same goes for Senegal. When I'm there, pulling water at the well, eating millet from a communal bowl, speaking Wolof, THAT is the only kind of existence that I can viscerally imagine. Both times, in my head I know that this isn't so. When in Senegal I know that in the USA there are people commuting to work on smooth roads, buying $100 sundresses and eating burritos, but these are like imaginary things, too unfathomable to be true. Likewise, while here in Seattle, I know that not so very far away there are people bathing in murky well water, who are excited about finally having a latrine for their family, who are eating (really pretty unappetizing) rice with peanut sauce... but it seems so impossible that such things could be real, when my experience is so completely unlike it. So that's how it is. Like two different worlds sharing the same small Earth. But in any case, it is wonderful to be home.

A taste of success

A girl hoping to check out a book from the Bookmobile.

The kitchen smells amazing at this moment, because my friend Kyle and I are making dinner. There are green beans with ham simmering, garlic mashed potatoes, and two kinds of guinea fowl: fried (by Kyle) in cornflake breading, and roasted (by me) with carrots and potatoes in a marinade of tamarind and Worcester sauce. I wanted to try guinea fowl, which are so funny looking with their bald heads and droopy-looking bodies. But they can dart away as quick as a flash, and are much less common than chickens. Anyway, I have never eaten one, nor have I ever killed an animal by myself. So I decided to kill two birds with one stone...well, one bird with one knife, actually. Which I did. Killed it, bled it, de-feathered it, cleaned out the insides, cut it up, and now I'm roasting it. If the smells are any clue, it's bound to be tasty! And though I didn't ENJOY killing the bird (or doing the messy work of preparing it, either), I feel a kind of satisfaction having done it, the way I'd planned to.

The big news today though is that the BOOKMOBILE went on it's first test run! To my village and my friend's village. All things considered, the event went pretty well. The kids loved that big red truck, all full of books. In each village, we were able to check out about 150 books, but had to stop there so as not to overwhelm the Peace Corps Volunteer who has to keep track of them all. The titles and name of who checked it out are written in a notebook, which we left in the village where the book is in order to know who has each book at any given time. We read aloud some children's stories, and taught some interactive songs, which were a big hit. There is still some work left to do on the truck (the shelving had been badly installed, so we'll have to have it fixed) but we are slowly checking those things off the list. What fun! The Bookmobile is finally on its way, and it looks like the program will be wonderful for these village kids.

But now the water is out in Kaolack again, which is a bummer. Our bean seeds finally came in, though, so when I get back to the village tomorrow I can start telling farmers how many kilos of seed they'll get, and hopefully even see some fields now before the rains come.

Thanks to Florence, Colorado!

Michelle Sylvester Scholarship is finished for the year, Alhamdullilah! All the paperwork is in and now all we have to do is wait for the committee to pick the winners. Finally, some seeds have arrived - no rice seed yet, but beans, corn, and sorghum, so I can start telling farmers what they will have from me for this rainy season. Last week the annual Gamou was held in Keur Ali Gueye; apparently it happens every year around late May, but last year I missed it. They set up a huge tent next to the half-finished big mosque, and hung it will all sorts of portraits and posters of Baye Niasse. The young girls all bought white pants suits, which they asked me to paint with Baye Niasse's classic three-quarter pose. I see this depiction of the marabout everywhere, on car stickers, on tee-shirts, on keychains, painted on the walls of telecentres and boutiques. He is a very famous religious leader; my whole village is Niassene - followers of Baye Niasse. So I did my best to sketch his face on an ever-increasing pile of snowy boubous. In the end I got pretty good, and could do it in under a minute. Then I made the girls (they asked me, but I refused, so they could take some credit for the work!) paint over the lines in black oil paint, so the image stood out. In the end they looked awesome! The Gamou itself was quite an event. People from several surrounding villages came to listen to the recitations and speeches, and the entire town put on their best clothes. The older folks sat under the tent with their prayer beads. The leader of the village's Koranic school was the host; he killed tree cows for the two meals that day! So we ate delicious greasy rice and rich meat-flavored cere. There was melodic chanting all through the night, though I ended up going to sleep after dinner. It was a nice village experience.

And coming into Kaolack has been great this time around! We're putting the Bookmobile together for the test run this weekend. Hopefully it will go well, unlike the Dakar fiasco. So far everything seems to be good. This time Kaolack had wonderful surprises waiting for me. FOUR packages: two gifts from home (full of delicious food! Now I can pig out!) and two HUGE packages of children's books from my friend in Florence, CO. How wonderful! We put them in the Bookmobile today and they really enrich the collection. I chose three of those for reading aloud to kids this weekend, and I think they'll enjoy the stories. So THANK YOU Florence Public Libraries (and Robin, you especially)! You've definitely made a great contribution to the Bookmobile! Wish us luck on this test drive.
Next, we need to get our hands on an old card-catalog. Anybody got one lying around? :)

Time, fast and slow all at once

Thank goodness I've made peace with my bike seat since last year. I've had to bike somewhere almost every day this past week, bumping along the sandy bush paths, past the occasional nomadic Pulaar camp (they are so cool! With vast herds of cattle, sheep, and goats, they set up tents in the empty fields so their animals can graze on last year's crop residue. The women sometimes walk through the villages, selling curdled milk. And I love the way they drive their donkey charettes - no reins at all, three donkeys hitched abreast, and they steer by wacing a stick on one side or the other to indicate which way the donkeys should go. It's impressive!), and swatches of black ash, occasionally still smoking, from where farmers gathered stalks and weeds to burn. I've been biking so much because of the Michelle Sylvester Sholarship, which is done every year throughout Senegal. (You can go to the SENEGAD website to learn about it: http://senegad.org/ ) For me it means going to two neighboring towns and working with the middle schools there. Six girls are chosen from each school, and they all need to write an essay, have a teacher recommendation, and a personal interview. That gives me a chance to see what their home is like, too, because the scholarship is supposed to go to girls with excellent grades AND a striking financial need. Of course, this year I am reminded that good grades are often the result of a comfortable family situation. I visited quite a few beautiful compounds for the interviews this year. But in each town, there are always a couple girls who stand out, with their excellence in school in the face of financial difficulties. This year the process was easier, because I knew what I was doing, but also more difficult, since now I have been working in these towns and so gotten to know some of the families, and had to remind them that in this case I must be entirely impartial when choosing finalists for the scholarship. Luckily there is a committee in Dakar who will choose the eventual winners - a 30,000cfa scholarship, plus a certificate of achievement - to spare us Volunteers drama from the families of those who didn't win. Anyway, there are only a few more things to do for the scholarship on my end, which means another two or three bike trips to and from the towns. I can do it!
One might think that with actual activities going on, it would be a busy week, but time has a way of dragging here even when there is lots going on. I also finished two books, including "The Omnivores Dilemma", which was very good, thoug not quite applicable to my lifestyle here. It shows that Americans, assuling we "are what we eat", are primarily corn; whereas I feel mostly comprised of rice and millet nowadays. I am currently working on a novel called "Iceland's Bell", which is also extremely well-written and interesting. Thank God for the Kaolack library. I've read books I never might have heard of otherwise.
In less fortunate news, a cat killed my gray chicken, so now there are only two: Lucy and Studly Dudley the rooster. No chicks yet. But I can report that chickens are not at all traumatized by the death of a compatriot. On the contrary, they had no problem pecking at the bits of feather and gristle that the cat eshewed. Chickens, I believe, have absolutely no sense of their own mortality. Which is a good reason to eat them.
More cyber lessons this week! I asked the kids if I could distribute their e-mail addresses to perspective pen-pals, and they said yes. No guarantees of when or if you'll get a reponse, but they would love to hear from the "waa Amerique". Here are the e-mails I have:

Omar - diopomar14@yahoo.fr
Penda - avenir.gueye@gmail.com
Pape Souleymane - papesouleymanediop@yahoo.fr
El Hadji -elhadjisamba18@hotmail.fr
Masse - fansgambie99@live.fr
Malick - batman22@live.fr
Aissatou - fanselhadjidiop@gmail.com

There they are! More kids come to the lessons sometimes, but these are the ones whose e-mails I have at hand. Tomorrow we'll practice attaching a webpage link in an e-mail. Wish us bonne chance!

You win some....

The Bookmobile being worked on by Fatik mechanics. Photo courtesy of Lauren from Buttercup Farms.

Well, Saturday was a series of unfortunate events, one after another, all day long. When one thing goes wrong, it can be very upsetting, but when tons of things go wrong, at a certain point you just have to throw up your hands and laugh at the absurdity of it all. Here is the abbreviated story:
After two days of rushing around town, making sure everything was ready - paperwork, checks in the hands of the right people, new battery, spare tire, and lights for the truck, driver and sept-place hired, books secured with rope and nails, posters made, donation cards and box prepared - everyone went to bed as early as they could. We woke at five the next morning to start off. The truck, with its two drivers, had gone off before us, because the sept-place drives much faster. At first it all went fine. We had music playing to keep us awake as we drove into the murky dawn. But then, just inside the town of Fatik, we spotted the Bookmobile on the side of the road with it's hood open. Stopping to see what was up, the drivers told us it was dangerously overheating, and they didn't want to risk continuing on in that situation. There was mild mayhem for awhile as people cursed the mechanic who hadn't fixed the truck the way he'd said, and we debated what to do, waking poor Mm. Viola up at seven to tell her what had happened. Eventually Kate asked if a mechanic in Fatik could be found to take a look at it, and a motorcycle was sent to bring one. He ended up being a very nice guy, but we waited for nearly three hours there while he removed the radiator, had it cleaned at the gas station, and put the whole thing back together. Meanwhile, it was nearly ten, and the event was due to start at eleven. We'd left so early to avoid Dakar's heinous traffic. But it was not looking good. Still, around ten we had the mechanic paid and crossed our fingers that the Bookmobile would be okay. On the road again!
But the moment we started back on the main road there was a clunk, a dragging sound, and our sept-place driver exclaimed that HIS car had just broken down too! Our bad luck was starting to seem comical at this point. Meanwhile, the truck was not 100%, but we decided to keep trying. So the others stood there waiting for a new sept-place, which had been called in from Kaolack, and I got into the cab of the truck, hoping to get to Dakar before they did. It was just not meant to be. The truck overheated every two kilometers, and finally the drivers said there was nothing else to do besides go back. The new sept-place still hadn't reached Fatik, so we waited for awhile, and when it finally came I hopped in. By this time it was nearly noon; we were an hour late, still hours from Dakar, and with no Bookmobile either. Since we'd lost so much time, we pulled into Dakar in the middle of lunchtime traffic, which is practically stand-still. This gave us the opportunity to buy some cashews for breakfast from vendors who stroll up and down the lanes between the vehicles, but in the end it caused us to roll into the event at nearly 3pm. Most people had already gone home, and though the ladies who had organized the Bookmobile station with us were sympathetic, there was not much anyone could do. We set up our story-reading corner, which had been our planned kids' activity. But since most of the kids had gone home, and there was no beautiful big red truck to intrigue them, we had few customers. The donations table was vacant; only a few people were left to come listen to us talk about the program. In the end we got a little money that had been collected on behalf of the Bookmobile some time ago by a member of the Dakar Womens' Group, and a couple handfuls of spare change from people on their way home.
In short, the event was a total failure. But, I suppose we learned some useful things. For one, the Bookmobile is NOT ready to go around to rural villages until its engine is properly fixed up. This was our test drive.

Ndank Ndank.....ndank.....

The backyard chicken project: Lucy the red hen, Gertrude the gray hen, and Studly Dudley the rooster.


I bought a rooster at the louma. Having proven that chickens WILL lay without one, I decided that little baby chicks are just too adorable to resist, and I want some in my backyard. Plus, the roosters in my compound are ugly so I wanted to purchase a handsome one who can hopefully breed better chickens in the whole quartier. The result: Studly Dudley. Four dollars worth of strutting, crowing male chicken. And he is a good-looking rooster, isn't he? No eggs yet, but when they happen again I'll have adorable chicks to look forward to!
My pepiniere finally sprouted, only to be attacked by the aforementioned poultry. But I found a way to fence it in using old broom-like dry stalks of weeds, which makes a thick barrier around the pepiniere. Then I laid a piece of old mosquito net on top, and so far that seems to be working well. This year I want nebadaye for the whole town!
The kids at Internet class are progressing quickly. They all have e-mail addresses now, either Hotmail, Gmail, or Yahoo (since there's a silly daily limit on all of those) and they are practicing sending messages back and forth to one another. The next thing they all want to do is search for "correspondants" from other countries. Anybody want a Senegalese penpal?
Days in the village are slow this time of year. There is really nothing going on. Though in the evenings I've taken to helping some of the neighborhood kids study, by asking them questions about their lessons, to test how well they retained the information. It's all in French, which I'm the only one who speaks French in the village, so I try to help them out. But it is frustrating because some can recite the information, but have no idea what any of it means. So I try to have them explain it in Wolof afterward (rather, I explain it in Wolof) and ask the questions a couple of different ways, to try and help them learn what information goes together. There are a few star pupils, which is always encouraging. But one student makes me sad. I know he's very bright, he can speak French fairly well and is extra-quick with numbers. But he simply cannot read. I think he's probably dyslexic, but of course they don't have any resources to work with those kinds of children here. So what can he do? Struggle in class and, despite his smarts, probably not get into middle or high school.
Now I'm in Kaolack, where I have to work like mad to put the finishing touches on a Bookmobile fund raising event that will be held in Dakar this weekend. It's exciting that the Bookmobile is finally getting near completion, and I think it'll be a fun day in Dakar talking about books. But I need to get to work and make this all happen before Saturday! Luckily the fantastic people at 10,000 Girls have done most of the tough stuff already. I just have to confirm the details.

Hot

The hot season has arrived. It's miserable in the afternoons, when even the wind is hot, like a blow-drier. Last wednesday I got caught in a dust genii while on my bike, a mini-tornado of hot, dusty wind. Fun! Not much village news to report. I seeded my pepiniere, but it has not yet sprouted. Just today, after a series of delays, I finally got to start contacting principals for this year's Michelle Sylvester Scholarship, for middle school girls. It went really well last year, and was both fun and rewarding, so I'm looking forward to meeting 2009's candidates. Yesterday I finally brought out some coloring book pages I've had stashed in my hut for months, dug out my bag of crayons, and hosted a mildly chaotic colorng session on my mat beneath the shade of a couple of neem trees. The kids were all screaming and coloring, having a general good time. And today I saw one drawing taped onto the wall of one little boy's mom's bedroom, which was cute. Finally, too, I brought my tape over to the school so that I myself could tape up the world maps which have been sitting there since Mom's visit. Now, at last, kids can study geography properly! Otherwise, not much to report. It's just HOT.

Bookmobilerific!!!

Me standing in front of a FINALLY FINISHED Bookmobile.


It's happened at last! After over a year of hounding the mechanic and scrounging for funds, the Bookmobile has been completed! Shelves are installed along both walls, and everything is painted bright red. Today I worked with a volunteer from Buttercup Farms (the group in the US who sells 10,000 Girls products stateside) to label the shelves and start sorting books. We have at least these groupings: Very easy English picture books, Easy English picture books, Medium English picture and story books, Advanced English books, Teacher's materials, Easy French books, French novels, French comic books, French textbooks, French grammar books, and a few books in other International languages. This coming week, hopefully, girls can get to work sorting and loading the books into the truck. How exciting! It's finally happening!
Meanwhile, I need to start planning fund raising and attention-getting activities in Dakar, so we can collect enough money to run the program for a year. Now that we have books, a painted, revamped truck, and volunteers ready to work, all we need is cash and we're on the road!

Two more weeks

After being very sneaky, I managed to catch this photo of mother and daughter at a wedding, watching the bride being blessed by the village elders.


My as-yet-unplanted pepiniere. I'll seed it with mostly nebedaye when I return to site, along with a little jitropha, and some flamboyant trees.

School is still out, so it's been awhile since Internet classes, but they're sue to start up again next week, once I'm back from our annual Agriculture Conference in Dakar. Which will also be good and an opportunity to eat tasty food. I realized, once again, how desperate my body is for nutrients, when I put away two brochette sandwiches last night. A single sandwich is half a baguette, roasted meat, french fried, tomato, lettuce, onion, and spiced mayonnaise; I ate TWO of those without pause. Wow. But, as I think on it, my caloric intake is so little, as every day I eat maybe a cup of rice, and another cup of millet, along with scraps of fish or vegetable or a little peanut sauce, and that's pretty much it. With the exception of the bad cookies I buy to stave off munchies on occasion. But soon it's mango season, which is a healthier way to indulge my sweet cravings. And now that school is back, I can get started on the Michelle Sylvester Scholarship, which will keep me busy. And better yet, in just a couple months the rain will come, and there is nonstop activity in the rainy season. My focus this year, I hope, will be on upland rice and beans, plus finishing the vetiver grass demonstration fields.
This week I finished preparing my pepiniere, which is a small tree nursery. Hopefully I can convince people to make ones of their own, too, as I have more sacks, but in my personal backyard I have 150 sacks stuffed with half-and-half sand and sifted manure. Next week I'll seed them and water them all, so hopefully every family can have at least one more nebedaye tree, which provides extremely nutritious leaves for "mboom" sauce. That will go well with everybody's new latrines!

Lucy Lays an Egg

Perhaps the highlight of my week is that Lucy the red hen is finally laying! No eggs from Gertrude yet, but two days in a row now Lucy has hidden a tiny, pointy-topped cream-colored egg somewhere in my backyard. If only it were pink I could pretend I was hunting for Easter eggs. But as it is, I cooked both those up and they were delicious! This was after showing them to the family, who refused to believe me when I claimed that female chickens will lay just fine without a rooster. I said in the USA there are whole yards full of only hens, which lay just fine, but they shook their heads and said, "Oh no, Senegalese hens are different! They need a rooster!" In fact, as we confirmed this week, they do not need a rooster. But baby chicks are so cute I might buy one anyway.
In other news, the REALLY hot season has set in. Everyone is miserable in the afternoons, and I copy everyone's example by spending all day sprawled out to try and escape the heat.

Little Things

The date carved into the lid of a completed latrine in my counterpart's compound.


Solar cooking last week; there was an impromptu dance party inspired by this fish sauce.


My host sister coaxing a kite up into the air.


There are some weeks that pass so quickly, and others that merely drag. It's the slow season here now for me. Not much is happening that I can properly consider "work". So what am I up to? Every week or two, I'll buy ingredients for solar cooking, though I can't do that too often so as not to make people jealous. It's the windy season, so the kites left here by visiting students last year have made a popular appearance. When they get up to the end of their string, the entire village can see the kite way up in the air, high above the thatched roofs and mud-brick walls. It's a swooping, bright spot of rainbow color in an otherwise featureless blue sky. And I can't help humming the song from Mary Poppins, under my breath, when I wind the string and get ready to send it up. Once a week, I do the mini-library thing with the school, lending books to kids from a trunk of Viola Vaughn's Bookmobile books. Twice a week, the computer class with the Nioro students. We're learning to do Google searches now. Next month, hopefully, I can start my pepiniere, and the plan is to organize the women's group (or some other organization in the village) to dissipate that knowledge. Maybe even be a little money-maker for someone. But progress, as usual, is ndank ndank. And, I am annoyed because I want to start work on this year's Michelle Sylvester Scholarship, the one for middle-school girls, but because of this ridiculously long spring break, it will have to wait until mid-April. Baaxul!!!
Probably the biggest news in the village is the latrines, which are being completed super-quickly. Since taking the money out of the bank to buy the materials, I haven't done anything at all, which is precisely the idea of a Peace Corps Partnership. My counterpart has supervised all the cement and iron distribution, keeping careful track of it in a notebook, and people have dug their holes, molded their bricks, paid the masons to line the pits and put the lids on. Really, it's all happened incredibly fast, and people still rave about how pleased they are to finally have enough latrines for a healthy village. All thanks to you wonderful donors! The thirty-seven latrines will be completed by the rainy season, which is awesome, awesome news.
The other day there were two weddings in neighboring compounds, so I (along with everybody else) was running back and forth between them all day, escorting the brides with the parade of women (the brides with their faces and heads completely covered by an opaque white shawl), sitting while the wedding was blessed by the men elders, and enjoying the greasy rice lunch, the boombox music (Akon, of course) brought in from town, and admiring the brides, their faces lavishly made-up, their hairdos towering, with 1,000cfa bills pinned into their thick curls. I briefly considered taking photos, but considering the mayhem that's caused (especially among the children) when I bring out my camera, I chose to try and describe it with words instead.
And my chickens have become more friendly, too. Gertrude and Lucy now run to me when I stand on my back step and cluck, because they know I have handfuls of grain for them. Luckiest chickens in the whole of Senegal, maybe.

Election Week

This week (the last two weeks, actually) have been full of election events, as local politicians advertise their platforms in preperation for tomorrow's election. It's the mayors, I think, and the Presidents of the Communaute Rurale who will be elected, which means it's a big deal for villages. So most people's focus has been on that. I've been shelling peanuts, because 'tis the season. But on Wednesday, and this afternoon again, was the kids' computer class and they're doing fantastically well. Plus they're having fun, which is important too. If they continue to improve their typing today, I might let them get online. It's fun teaching an Internet class! Yesterday was a fun day, too. The family I gave my solar cookre to has been gradually perfecting its use, but it doesn't cook things in time for lunch. So I bought a kilo of fish, some tomato paste, bouillon, pepper, kani (which is piment), a few little onions, and oil, and we put it all together in a pot to make fish sauce for "cere ak jen". The solar cooker had it ready by the afternoon, and it was delicious! I ate almost half the bowl of "cere" (that's the millet dish) that night, it was so tasty. But even better was the fact that the family did the whole thing themselves. They're now the village solar cooking experts! And, in other fantastic news, the mining company donated some wood for the Bookmobile, so shelves are being installed now. Hopefully soon we'll be able to shelve the books in the truck and really get started.

Douches, Porridge, and Computer skills

These are what I call the "Halfway Trees". If you pass these, you're halfway to Keur Ali Gueye from Nioro du Rip! Still got about four kilometers to go, though.


At the louma last week I succumbed to an impulse buy: two chickens, one red, one gray. I named them Lucy and Gertrude, tied them onto long strings, and set them loose in my backyard. To go along with them, I mixed up some grain of millet, sorghum, corn, and peanuts, to supplement the bugs and whatever else are out behind my hut. Like many impulse buys, I find myself wondering now what ever inspired me to buy such a thing, but here in Senegal you don't purchase a new coat or a pair of boots, you buy hens. So now they're mine. The consolation is, I got a good deal - only 1,500cfa each (the kid after me bought his chicken for 2,000! HA! I got a better price!!!), and hopefully in a little while they'll start laying eggs and I can have omelettes in my hut. If not I suppose we can eat them. I would worry about getting attached, because after all, they are my animals, but chickens make very unsympathetic pets. Too much loud squawking and terrified running around to really make you feel warm and fuzzy. But Gertrude and Lucy are now my very own, irregardless.
Otherwise, my week has been occupied with time-filling activities. The latrines are coming along splendidly. Everyone is doing the work at their own pace, but quickly. Pretty soon everything will be finished! It's really fantastic and people are as enthusiastic as ever about having family latrines. It will make the rainy season, especially, more tolerable. I, meanwhile, inspired by the seminar in Dakar, went into two classes to talk to kids a little about basic nutrition, and later on, the women from three different neighborhoods organized themselves to learn how to cook a rich porridge that's good for growing children. I brought the ingrediants, and gave insructions while they prepared the meal. It is so easy and accessible, too! Just a half kilo of millet flour, a kilo of peanut butter, some kind of fruit (I used baobab fruit once, bananas another time, and suggested squash, mango, or papaya as other choices or, if nothing else, at least nebedaye leaves! They're amazingly high in vitamins), as well as 100cfa each of sugar and oil. While the water boils, mash up the fruit, add the peanut butter, oil, and sugar to the fruit mash; when the water is boiling you mix in the flour until smooth, then add in the peanut butter-fruit mash, stir it all together, and voila! A delicious, nutritious, simple breakfast for young kids. The important part, of course, is that it combines all the necessary food groups, so carbohydrates, protein, fat, and vitamins are all together in good proportion. That's a hard concept to teach. But we've had fun making porridge and the children find it delicious, and all the ingredients can be found in the village, so hopefully some women will prepare it on their own.
The last thing is a project I just started, inspired by the fact that this year ten teenagers from Keur Ali Gueye passed the test into middle school, and are now studying in Nioro. Which is fantastic news, especially as four of them are girls - the first time that has ever happened. But in this day and age, education only get you so far if you don't have basic computer skills. So I decided that I would teach them how to type and use the Internet, by biking down to town twice a week and holding little classes at computers rented from the local cybercafe. The first class took place this Saturday. The kids were late, which made me angry, as I was offering to pay out of my own pocket (well, it's Uncle Sam's money, really) to teach them these important skills, and they were lounging at home! But the one girl who made it there first, and the other two students who finally showed up in time for a taste, really enjoyed it. They won't be late next time. My plan is to work on typing and using the keyboard until everyone can write paragraphs with proper capitals, punctuation, and indentation. Then, we'll go online! Inch'allah. But I'm excited because it's fun to teach something that I truly know, and even after a single lesson they're already catching on so fast. I have a feeling it could be a very rewarding little project.

Gamou Kaolack

A neighborhood girl getting her hair braided for the Gamou. Most of that is "meche", which is hair extensions, to thicken and lengthen the hairdo.

The Gamou Kaolack - a huge religious event for Niassene Muslims (the sect to which my entire village belongs) - is today. Last year I stayed at home and enjoyed the serenity of a village with practically no children, and only a few sedate adults relaxing under the trees. But this year I decided to tag along and share in the excitement. So I crammed into an auto with dozens of other villagers this morning and we cruised off to Kaolack. Many of the cars we passed were blaring religious chants from loudspeakers on the roofs, but I'm grateful that ours didn't have such accessories. As with many holidays, my Gamou mostly consisted of sitting around a lot, then eating an enormous lunch of greasy rice. I'd hoped to go to the mosque with my host family, but they were insistent about my getting back to the Peace Corps house before dark, so they bundled me onto a charette and waved me off before going back to do the celebration part of the Gamou. But preparations leading up to the Gamou have been impressive. Almost everyone has new clothes, the girls have been putting in elaborate braids, the women applying black henna to their feet. Kids are as excited as if it were Christmas Eve - a trip to the big city, where there are ice cream sellers (only 50cfa for a small cone) as well as delicious, protein-filled lunches, visiting relatives, and a break from school. And rumor has it the late-night program at the huge, beautiful mosque in Medina Baye is wonderful as well. It only lasts a day, though. So tomorrow I'm headed to the louma in Nioro, then back to the village, to scrounge up ways to stay busy the remainder of this hot, dry season.

Transport Strike

People are stuck in Kaolack. Some have been here since Monday. I just got in yesterday, hitching a ride with my boss after his visit to the village. He was impressed with the progress of the latrines, and our hopes for pepiniere season. But, I had hoped this would be a quick trip to town, to get to the bank and the post office, then home; but I ended up having to stay here today too because transport is very scarce and even less safe than usual. So here we are, eating yogurt and papayas, fiddling with our chores and complaining about the strike that despite being inconvenient, is not nearly as bad for us as it is to the dozens of Senegalese who are waiting on the sides of the road for a ride home. At least we have a place to sleep and cook. Who knows if people have spent the night huddling on the roadside? Strikes are bad. And the timing is difficult, because this weekend is the Gamou Kaolack, a huge religious event for followers of the marabout Baye Niasse. My whole village, being Niassene, are planning to attend. Hopefully things have settled down by then. In any case, these are the realities of life here at the moment. Rice is expensive, work is tough to find, and the hot season is setting in. Everyone gets grumpy when it's hot.

Some village photos

Brick-lining a new latrine. All that's left is the seat!


Working the press, to make peanut oil. The resulting peanut grounds are a heavy cake which is nutritious for animals. Plus you get tasty locally-produced oil.


This calf was surprisingly docile; they caught it specially for the picture, but it was sleeping near the market all morning.


A lady sorting peanuts in her courtyard.

Full Circle

Now that I'm in my second year here, I'm experiencing the repetition of life lived cyclically, following the seasons. While I was on vacation the women peeled and dried all the bissap from their field; now there are sacs stuffed full of bissap waiting for the government to come and buy it. The safest storage place, of course, is my backyard, which is now stacked high with fat plastic sacs. Out with last year's millet pile, in with this year's bissap! But thinking back, I remember how important it was to my village adjustment, those first few months of my being there, to sit with the women for hours, popping those bright red fruits off their seed pods, listening to their chatting as I gradually filled by bucket with bissap. And after that came peanut season. Now it is here again,and my fingers are re-learning the technique of snapping a nut against a stone or a wooden stool; the one-handed shelling which contributed to an ever-growing pile of nuts and shells; the taste of dried peanuts (the little shriveled onces, actually, are more flavorful than the perfect-looking ones.); the familiar flaking of skin off my thumbs from the constant friction of finger against peanut shell. Oh, peanut season! Of course here every season could really be called peanut season. Life revolves around peanuts, or the money they bring in. Now, too, people are building and repairing houses, and all the families are in various stages of latrine construction. There are three-meter deep pits all over the village, and some are already being lined with bricks. Then the masons will come to construct the seat on top. Everyone is thanking me for bringing the latrine project to the village, but I have to remind them that I didn't do a thing! It's all the people who each gave what they could, eventually funding the project in its entirety, who really need thanking. Without you all it never would have happened!
Being back in the village is wonderful. It feels so familiar to me now, almost as comfortable as home. I even welcome the flavor of millet "cere" with fish or leaf sauce. You can get used to anything, and even come to enjoy it! And I've got plenty of things I hope to do in the near future: a little nutrition seminar for the kids, through the school, to learn about the food groups. Continuing the library. Starting pepinieres. Teaching a group of young mothers how to make improved porridge for their children, with millet flour, peanut butter, some kind of fruit, a little oil and sugar, which can combat malnutrition (we learned that in Dakar). And encouraging everyone in their latrine work. There's plenty to do! And there are some things I'm working on out-of-town, too, such as the Bookmobile, and helping get a girls' group going in a town near a friend's site, and hopefully working with some other Volunteers to create a leadership camp for young women, to be held this summer.

WAIST 2009 - a Weekend to Remember

Me and two Kaolack friends, with our team TROPHY!!! Note the awesome plaid shawl I'm wearing. It fits the winning theme.

I'm on my way home from Dakar after a fantastic WAIST weekend! For those who didn't read my blog last year, WAIST is the annual softball tournament (the West African Invitational Softball Tournament, in fact) which takes place during President's Day weekend. It is a huge event for ex-pats and Peace Corps Volunteers all over West Africa. The fabulous Dakar community opened their beautiful homes to us, sharing their tasty American meals, hot showers, and luxurious beds with us deprived village Volunteers. It is always a shock to walk into such a house, sit down at a table with such wonderful food, and experience the familiar shock of warm water from the shower head; all things familiar, yet after so long a hiatus, remarkable. This year the tournament itself was huge! Almost all the Peace Corps Senegal Volunteers were there, to play or support their regional teams. There were also teams from Mali, The Gambia, Guinea, and Mauritania. The Mauritanians are known to be serious softball players. The themes and costumes were hilarious as always. Kaolack chose "Braveheart" as our theme, so everyone was running around wearing tartan-print kilts, screaming "FREEDOM!" or "MacKAOLACK!" as the mood took us, or the ever-popular "Cesspool!", a nickname for our lovably dirty regional city. I, of course, was on the cheer squad, because I'm not particularly "sportive", but our pitcher played in a plaid miniskirt, people were running bases barefoot or in flip-flops, and there was plenty of good cheering (or heckling, depending on the opposition!) as the situation required. We all had a fantastic time. And, here's the really exciting news: for the first time in many years, Kaolack won a trophy! Third place, beaten by the Senegalese national team, and Mauritania, but it was a BIG trophy nevertheless! All tartan-clad people were wildly celebrating that final evening. Being third place means we beat all the other Peace Corps Senegal teams. Kaolack is officially the best softball playing region in Senegal! Needless to say, we do other things pretty well too.
The day after WAIST's celebratory dinner and dance, we had a conference at USAID to discuss work opportunities, and sector goals and summits. I co-lead two discussions about latrine construction, since that is an area of big interest for many Volunteers, and so important to peoples' health. I also got to attend a good refresher course on seed-saving techniques, and an inspiring seminar about creating good nutrition from local sources. Yesterday I called Omar Gueye and he says the cement, iron, and wire arrived safely to the village, and has been locked in the storage room. Already he's molding bricks to line his latrine, and other folks are doing the same. Fantastic news! Now all that's left to buy are wooden slabs to serve as covers, and wait a few weeks for construction to be finished, and then thirty-seven families in Keur Ali Gueye will have their own latrines right there in the compound.

Buying cement, writing proposals

This is the view of a sunrise, taken from my back porch step. I’ve decided that the color of the light at sunrise is golden; everything suffused with a shimmer of gold. In the evening, at sunset, the light is lavender.


I’m in Kaolack for a few days, doing city chores, of which here are many because I’ve been vacationing. But it feels great to be back! I had a wonderful vacation, saw a lot of fascinating places and got to spend all my savings on an unforgettable experience, but I’m tired of travel. There is no such thing as a relaxing trip in West Africa. I want to get back to work, be in my village element again. That won’t really happen, though, until next week, after WAIST in Dakar, after the All-Volunteer Conference, and after I’ve finished all the things I need to be in Kaolack for. Today, the “responsables” for the latrine project came up, and met me at the supplier. Since the money came through I’ve been feeling a little jumpy – no one likes two million cfa sitting in their bank account! – so I was relieved to put it where it belongs. My counterpart confirmed the materials to make sure it was all they’d ordered, and reviewed the prices. The supplier drew up the receipt. I went to the bank (chauffeured there, actually; how fancy) to withdraw several enormous wads of cash. But now the money is where it should be, in the business’s lockbox; and the materials are where they should be, en route to the village; and the work is moving along splendidly according to everyone. It’s really happening so efficiently! I’m delighted. And I hear from them all that everyone is “content na lool”: very happy.

So now I’m in Kaolack to do more Bookmobile stuff, and also research and write a proposal for a grant to fund a summer camp, and do several other things in town. Then I’ll bake some treats for the SENEGAD bake sale – it all goes towards funding girls’ empowerment activities, including the scholarships – and it’s off to Dakar for WAIST!

Digging Douches

We had a whirlwind trip to the village and lots of things are going on! The Peace Corps Partnership was entirely funded, thanks to everyone's generous donations. Thank you, thank you! While I was on vacation, the money arrived from Washington D.C., and the very evening I got into the village my counterpart was holding a meeting to explain the project, who it came about, and the steps everyone had to take. The very next day, the two men in charge of measuring the space for the latrines went around the town, marking off the area. By day two, people had already begun digging. One of my nearest neighbors had done two meters in only one day! They're really excited. As my counterpart says, the people of my village have been wanting to build latrines in their compounds for nearly ten years now, and finally - because of this Peace Corps Partnership - they can do it. On their own, they've organized a mason to help with the technical parts of latrine construction, such as building the seat, and everyone is doing their part to collect the materials they need for their family's douche. Next week we'll meet in Kaolack to buy and transport the materials, so everyone can start making bricks. It's so exciting! And everyone is so pleased.

Return to Senegal

It feels ridiculously good to be in Senegal again. We saw so many marvelous things, stayed in so many unique places, but in the end I'm happy to be back and settling into the Kaolack rhythm I've come to know so well. Pissy cab drivers, enthusiastic post office staff (what? No gift from Togo for THEM?!), and my favorite cyber cafe, all waiting for me as if I had never left. On our way back from Mali we passed through Tambacounda, where I had never been, and then headed south to Kedougou. It was my first time there as well, and what a different feel Kedougou has from central Senegal! It rightly deserves the reputation as being the most beautiful region. Even now, in the dusty dry season, you can tell how lush it must become after the rains. The place is thickly forested, and has low mountains in the distance which probably turn stunning emerald. Arwen and I climbed up a ridge to look down over the tree-covered plain, and to marvel once again at the tiny villages perched on top of the rocks. But our big adventure was a 30kilometer bike ride on a dirt path to a gorgeous little town, right at the base of some craggy mountains. There is a waterfall hidden in the cliffs, tumbling down over a hundred meters to splash into a chilly pool. Further downstream, women and girls wash their laundry in the little creek, slapping the clothes against river stones to beat out the stains. After admiring the lovely waterfall, we hiked up to the top of the cliffs to find it's source. You can go right to the edge, where the water flows down, all the way to the forest floor. There were also caves of red rock, really convoluted and fun to explore. We even saw some wildlife there. A whole colony of bats in the cave, startled by our presence and agitatedly flitting back and forth, then reattaching themselves to the ceiling with their feet. Also, a troupe of baboons. On our climb up we heard them barking, and later on we surprised the troupe in their crossing of the river, and got a close look at them! It was very cool. Plus, on top of the mountain, you get to see the entire village spread out below, and the stunning geography all around. So, after hiking in the environs of Kedougou, I feel like I'm back in the flatlands again.
Now I'm rushing to complete all my chores in Kaolack, so I can gte home to the village! But apparantly all the mass-transportation drivers are on strike today and tomorrow, so I may have to wait until Wesnesday to finally get there. Oh, Senegal.

The road to Timbuktu

After Dogon country we went to a town called Sevare, right next to Mopti. Our goal was Timbuktu, but we were told at the last minute that we needed special Ambassadorial permision in order to go there, because of the travel alert for Northern Mali. So....we were in Sevare. Which was a great place to be stuck, because we stayed at a hotel called Mac's Refuge that was just like a slice of America. Mac himself presided over the family-style dinners, passing around bowls of soup, salad, bread baskets, asking who would like more. It was easy to forget that we weren't invited guests, the atmosphere was so welcoming. Highly recommended! But, in the end, we got approval, and Arwen and I got into a packed Landrover bound for Timbuktu. It was definitely worth the trouble! The town itself is mostly a jumple of curvy streets, mud brick houses, dotted with heavy wooden doors studded in silver. These buildings must have been magnificent when they were new, with every entrance gleaming silver in the sun. There were tons of othr tourists there, and I had forgotten how pleasant it is to feel lost in a crowd, not standing out all the time. The market was neat, because besides the usual vegetables and spices, there were vendors selling slabs of desert salt. It looks like quartz, glittering white salt, one of the reasons for the city's past glory. And perhaps the highlight of our visit was a camel ride into the Sahara, to visit a Tuareg camp. Watching the sun set, red-gold, over the sand, while feeling the peculiar rolling gait of a camel, with nomads' tents spread out across the dunes...well, it was a surreal experience. And I learned a piece of desert wisdom that I think applies to all: "s'eloigner les tentes, s'approcher les coeurs". Which is so true! The same as "distance makes the heart grow fonder". And there was so much beautiful Tuareg handicrafts for sale: jewelry and leather, all sorts of things, that it was impossible to resist. We've had such smooth travels, seen so many fascinating places. This is a great vacation!

Dogon country

Just a quick response to our Dogon country trek. It was awesome! We hiked across the plateau, down the cliff, along the bottom (where we got to visit the old Dogon buldings, tucked literally into the face of the cliff, and the tiny Tellem houses even further up), then up the falaise again. We stayed at campements with our guide, who was fantastic, a really nice guy. They fed us well and the scenery here is breathtaking. If ever in Mali, a couple nights in Dogon country is an experience not to be missed!

We made it to Mali!

Yesterday we left Ouagadougou at dawn, and continued until dusk in a series of rickety busses and cars, but we made it to Bandiagara! Our glimpse of the Dogon country, an austerely beautiful landscape of red rock, viewed beneath a golden sunset, was tantalizing. I can't wait to start trekking through it. But I will miss Burkina Faso. We visited some sacred crocodiles, watching them snap at the sacrificial chicken we bought, and crouching down above one's tail for pictures. They're smaller than one might suppose, but those jaws look powerful. And they shut with an alarming SLAP! on whatever bit of chicken it could reach. That was our main "tourist activity", but we spent a lot of time walking around Ouagadougou, admiring the enclaves of actual, real art (hidden among the tourist trash. But we did manage to find some gorgeous, unique bronze sculptures! They're made by forming the statuette in wax, then covering that with clay, firing it until all the wax melts away, and pouring molten bronze into the resultng mould. They're really special) and eating good food. What I will always remember about Burkina Faso is how impressed I was by the women there. They do everything! At least a third of motorcycle drivers are women, sometimes a big mama in her boldly-colored traditional outfit, head scar and all; sometimes a young girl in blue jeans and high heels; occasionally even a mother zooming along, revving her moto with a sleeping baby tied to her back. It's fantastic! Women just don't do that in Senegal, that I have noticed. And we were stopped on the road by a female gendarme, welcomed to the bank by a female security guard. Just little differences, but they made a big impression on both Arwen and me. Burkina Faso strikes me as a country that, at least judging from the capital, is moving fast and in the right direction.
But now we're in Mali! And I'm so excited to see it. People have been fabulously warm and welcoming so far, as is usual anywhere in West Africa that I've been, and the buidings are interesting, flat-topped affairs made of red, red earth. How will the Dogon cliff houses compare to Togo's fascinating "tatas", those fortress-houses near the Benin border? They're unlie any other house in the world, made only by this single ethnic group. Each tata is a two-story home, with a single small entrance in front, leading into a room which is designed so there is a staircase, but next to it a dark space where inhabitants could hide to ambush an enemy. Upstairs, a kitchen area, then an open roof, with sleeping rooms shaped like squat circular huts, accessible by a round hole. To get in, you have to slide yourself backwards through the hole! And in the corner, a grainery, raised so high up that vermin would have a hell of a time getting in, and with seperate compartment for each kind of grain. The roof provides a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the surrounding area, a dry plain with a backdrop of stunning hills. And out in the front of each tata are a cluster of tall earthen mounds, which are guardian ancestors of the house and the people in it. Everything made exclusively of the local clay dirt, and wooden branches for support. Those were the tatas. Now for Dogon country!

End of Togo, beginning of Burkina

We said goodbye to Togo yesterday morning early, on our way to catch a bus to Ouagadougou, the capital of Burkina Faso, at the border. I had such a good time in Togo! Not only hanging out with Arwen and the other Volunteers we met, who were all amazing, but also enjoying the differences, but subtle and obvious, between the two West African countries I've visited so far. Some highlights were the beautiful area near the Kabye mountains, where Arwen lives. Also, the handicapped cooperative near Niamtougou, which makes spectacular art, especially fabrics. They had adorable clothes for children, as well as bags, jewelry, some all hanging batiks, greeting cards with a tiny batik painting...I bought two meters of gorgeous fabric, with it's distinctive handmade batik print, which I think I'll have made into a dress. On New Year's day (they celebrate the first here, not midnight of the 31st) we went back there for their fundraiser dance party, which was super fun! It's so interesting to me, too, that the music tells you how to dance. When you hear the music, your body wants to move a certain way, which makes the Kabye "chicken dance" (as Arwen calls it) work so well, and makes my Wolof dancing look silly. But in my village you can really only dance that way to match the beat. Anyway, it was fun to give Togolese dancing a try. In Dapaong, we visited a women's co-op that makes beautiful hand-woven bags, blankets, tablecloths, and other things. I couldn't resist a spacious purse from there. And it was neat to watch them at work, weaving the bright colors into a pattern. They also make nice-smelling soap with shea butter. So many hardworking people! Those are the ones I like to help out.
And then, yesterday, we rode the bus all the way to Ouagadougou. It's a very clean, fairly calm city from what I've seen so far. Of course, that could be because we stayed at the centre d'acceuil which is run by nuns and located right at the entrance of the cathedral grounds of the archdiocese. But last night we found an "American bar" called showbiz that served the most delicious croque madame with lettuce and tomato! And this morning, a lady on the street was selling real avocado sandwiches! And so we feasted.