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.