Gobble Gobble!!

Well, despite my defeated voice in my previous blog post, many good things have happened recently, not the least being Thanksgiving!! 
In a time and a place where I often forget how lucky I am ...and who I have to be thankful for, this day was with my new Peace Corps family in body,  but with my American families (both East and West Coast alike) in spirit. 
A few quick "thanks":
 My parents, first and foremost, for supporting me the whole way in the crazy adventure I have called life for the last 24 years. 
 The endless care packages, cards, and letters from friends and family while being here.

And now, a photo Ode to Turkey Day!

The Band

Jessica dunking her fried turk

Playing the Uke!

EW

Deviled

Turkey pikins

Veggies

Green Bean casserole

Mac n Cheese

Mashed potatoes

Stuffing

Corn Bread

more veggies

Cran sauce

Gravy

Snagria

Fried Turkey

After the meal (my friend Mika)

The month I stopped sweating the small stuff

In the last couple weeks, it has cooled off considerably in my village. At night it gets down in the sixties, and I literally freeze. In the day time it still gets hot, but not like I am used to and on most days I don‘t even break a sweat(although as someone informed me it still gets up into the mid-90‘s everyday)….think New Mexico in late Spring…very arid. As someone who prefers a bit of humidity, the sudden change has wreaked some havoc on my body (super dry skin, cracking lips, a 3 week long cold), but on the good side, the mold in my hut has cleared out, and the mosquitos (most of them) are gone!!


Every new month continues to bring new challenges, and like the months past, I continue to question the motivation of my community, but now also my own motivation. One of my Senegalese “ colleagues” from Peace Corps came to my site to sit down and talk to the leaders about my plan for the community. It also served as a forum for them to express any grievances or amendments they might have to my proposed work plan.  It was helpful in the sense that my community heard from someone in a position of power at PC what exactly I was supposed too do, and would be doing. At the same time, I felt incredibly embarrassed that I had so little to actually show for the last 6 months I have been living here. As much as Peace Corps pushes the intangible experiences, they tend to look more upon physical changes in the community as indicators of your work…I have painted no murals and worked little with the school since my failed school garden; mainly because people did not express interest/motivation for those things. But, now I am feeling pressured to do those things, even if I do not think it is important or a need of the community.
In situations like this, I find myself bowing down to the beaurocracy, because if I do those projects that are looked upon favorably, I have a better chance of positive job recommendations, and a better chance of the administration looking on me as a better volunteer. So then, why am I here?  Because I want to help people, or because I want to help myself…I think any volunteer would tell you both. It still leaves an uneasy feeling in my stomach that I could be letting my community down, or the PC down, or myself down depending upon how I choose to live out this experience; which as of now has 16 months remaining in it.


I decided all of my time here is compromise, and that doesn’t just mean everyone else compromises so I get what I want. I did a mural at the health hut; there is proof that art is therapeutic, right? In this, I have discovered, nay confirmed, something I already new about myself: I am an organizer. I want to be the person at the top organizing, planning, and researching programs for other people to execute at a lower level…I lack a lot of the patience to do small scale projects. One day I will be a great boss, but in order to be at the top, you have to start somewhere, usually at the bottom. In this sense, Peace Corps is the first 2 years of my working career, where I can be on the bottom with an immense amount of freedom. I know where I want to be when I turn 30, and this experience is just the beginning of what I hope is a long career (having just celebrated my 24th birthday this is something I was thinking about). And at 24, I feel like I have so many choices; more choices than my family has in Senegal, more choices than my grandmother, and even my mother, had when they were my age.  I am not married (with no prospects here to the dismay of many Senegalese men), no kids (to the dismay of Senegalese women), and no heavy financial burdens (like a house or car payment)…I could literally do whatever it is I wanted, a powerful motivator for me to provide opportunities for others; even as small as helping a girl delay pregnancy a year so she can finish middle school by giving out condoms. So, while I might question the motivations of myself and my community, one thing is clear that I can do: be an example of a woman who has chosen this life over others, while creating small opportunities so that others might have a choice too.




In addition to all this woeful reflection, another Senegalese Holiday has broached upon us. Tabaski; in Arabic “Eid al Adha”عيد الأضحى‎ 

My sisters and I in our traditional whites

In tradition, the celebration is an "important religious holiday celebrated by Muslims worldwide to commemorate the willingness ofAbraham (Ibrahim) to sacrifice his son Ishmael (Isma'il) as an act of obedience to God, before God intervened to provide him with a ram to sacrifice instead.^[1] The meat is divided into three parts to be distributed to others. The family retains one third of the share, another third is given to relatives, friends and neighbors, and the other third is given to the poor & needy." However, as with many Koranic events, the Senegalese interpretation is simply 
about food and family. My Tabaski was really fun actually. We spent the day before in preperation mode, celaning the compound buying the supplies, etc. In an effort to really embrace the holiday, I wore clothes that matched the other 15 women in the compounds around us. Quite the site given the fabric was polka dotted. My measurements weren't taken before the holiday, ad so the clothes were huge, but I am getting them fixed. No one seemed to care.

I know I look ridiculous, don't hate

Skinning the sheep

The day itself was absolutely exhausting. We killed 3 sheep and 1 goat at around 10 am. There was a lot of tea drank, and we fried up huge meat parts and ate with mustard before our lunch even began. Then our neighbors came over and we ate lunch. Then everyone had sodas. Then we all showered and rested a bit before eating another snack. Right before night fell, we changed into other clothes, and started off visiting neighbors and sitting around with the family. Then we ate again...twice. 

Frying up the rib and shank portions with mustard

I ate so much sheep that day.  As is typical, we all stayed up late drinking tea. The next day a similar festivity  ensued, and the day following. The last day we ate the goat and drank yogurt drinks all day. So for 4 days, we celebrated. On the 5th day, things went more back to normal, but we still were eating the meat (which by this time had been sitting in heat without refrigeration for 5 days). My stomach was glad when it was over. The best and worse part about it all was the lack of work. I got to relax, but it was impossible to accomplish anything at all. 
See pics below!

My sister Rhamma and I

Our lunch...onion sauce ad sheep

Posing for my sister in my second clothing change

My sister Fatu and her cousin in their whites

Sophie and me

The goat head...which we also ate

It seems that October has come and gone, along with the cooling rains. The dry sahellian wind has returned to my village, but with a slightly colder edge. The nights cool off, and the days are hot, but not blistering or humid. My throat and lungs are having a hard time getting used to the sudden dryness. The days too, are shorter, the sun rises about an hour later and sets about an hour earlier….much like Fall in the States. 
The millet harvest has finished up, and so have the last of the peanuts. Everyone is preparing to sell and hoping for higher market prices than last year. Since Senegal exports most of it’s agricultural products, the small farmers make hardly enough to live off of, and large co-ops and unions have not formed to fight for better price security while foreign imports of rice and wheat flood the domestic market. This is the plight of the third-world farmer all-over the world, and even the small farmers in America face a similar fate.


I spent the first 18 days of this month traveling to and from meetings, appointments, and fun days with my stage-mates.  We now have the tradition of renting our trusty beach house before any large event, and as such did so the first weekend of October. It was calm, and not too hot. We went for our night swim around midnight and were blown away by the bioluminescence. We had seen it before, but it was especially bright and dense this time. Some of us stayed out there for 3 hours, just floating in the tepid water surrounded by  pearls of light.  The next day we headed up the coast to Joal for our meeting.

Example of Luminescence 
Wikepedia article about it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bioluminescence


All of the health and environmental education volunteers in the country had a ‘summit’….basically it was a 2 day open forum for sharing ideas, problems, stories, and ideas about how to improve and modify the current programs and projects.  It was the first time the first and second year vols had been together in a place to exchange information. I felt relieved that like my fellow volunteers, I was facing adversity and malaise when trying to start projects, and comforted by the second years who said, in most cases, all comes with time. 


I am finally at peace with the pace of my work, partly because of the reassurance from my family that the village only expects that I set up projects for the next volunteer, and that I can get people thinking about ‘health’ as more than just illness and medecine. I still occasionally get ‘where is your money for us’ or ‘why don’t you farm or plant trees’, but those comments are slowing as the idea that I will be here for the next 1.5 years and working with the health hut sinks in.


After the summit, I went to Dakar,  always a nice getaway…I forgot how exhausting the stimulation of the city is. There were nights when all I wanted to do was hear crickets and see starts, but in Dakar, those things barely exist. One night a group of us went to down to the beach where some very smart Senegalese men have set up a maekshift tikki bar with a generator. We paid in advance and they had a donkey cart bring the beer to the top of cliff, and it was carried down to the tikki hut. We swam, had a beer, and chatted until it was way past dark, then headed of to a BBQ at one of the third year volunteer apartments. At times like those, it is hard to believe that I am living in western Africa, and can go from barely having electricity to a life that is the picture of a 20-something in America.


On the work front:
I am constantly in the process of procuring supplies for our health hut, as it is severly lacking. A few NGO’s furnish health facilities for free, so I am trying to get one of them to come out and do an evaluation. In the mean time, I have basically been begging anyone I have contact with for things: a scale, medicine, patient logs, pharmacy requests, etc. I also am trying to rally my health committee to start meeting once a month. I want them to try and find someone in the community who can be trained as a health educator, and can volunteer their time at the health hut when the guy who runs it is out (which is often).


I participated in a vegetable pepinere training in the next large village over, and started intensive moringa beds in the health hut. I eventually want to train the midwife to take care of the moringa, turn it into powder, and then sell it for profit so the health hut has extra cash to either pay a full-time employee or subsideze the volunteers.
I came to the realization however, before any of these things happen, I have to get the health hut functional and organized. I gave a calender to my counterpart, so he can mark important events, as well as anything that is regularly occurring (such as vaccination days). He also is learning, however slowly, to keep track of  who comes in, for what, where they are from, age, etc. I made a makeshift log book until I can get an official one for him. I try not to get frustrated by the fact that this is all so basic, and is part of the training they receive when they agree to work at clinic…but often it just becomes a medicine dispenseray and nothing more. 


The amount of guess work they do here freaks me out; how does everyone survive without knowing what is what and when things are supposed to occur?? Not only that, but most fot he people   (men specially) who I have met who work in the health system are not just jerks, but also completely incomepentant and okay with doing the bare minimum. The lack of accountability to human life blows my mind. But, overworked and underpaid will do that to you…right??


Food of the Month: Bush Meat
While I ate like a queen in Dakar (Korean, French, American style Sandwiches, Ice Cream!!!!!), this is not so in the village. We have unfortunately fallen on lean times, waiting for the harvest to sell, and the last of the seasons veggie crops winding down. What do lean times mean in a country where most people subsit off of only rice and millet? It means BUSH MEAT. In an effort to make the bowl hardier than the few beans and plain oiled rice, often bush meat is added (or old salted and dried fish). What exactly is bush meat you ask? Well that’s the beauty of it, you don’t really want to know!!
Lizard is a popular secret ingrediant where I live, since they are enormous and bountiful…no matter the poison. it’s like eating bony girstle. I have seen other types of meat like things in the bowl, and when I ask if it is lizard, the response is ‘no’…and no further explanation. So I don’t really want to know what critters are being consumed on a bi-weekly basis, but if I had to guess I would say rat, dog, and field rabbits are likely contenders.

"Bushmeat initially referred to the hunting of wild animals in West andCentral Africa and is a calque from the French viande de brousse. Nowadays the term is commonly used for meat of terrestrial wild animals, killed for subsistence or commercial purposes throughout the humid tropics of the Americas, Asia, and Africa......"
\http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bushmeat

So much time, and so little to do! .....Strike that, reverse it.

Back home: leaves are falling, a smell of crisp apples apples is in the air, and jack-o-lanterns are beginning to appear on doorsteps.....

In Senegal: The humidity has no threats to subside, the humming of millet chaffing machines is all around us, and the mosquitoes cling to every surface........ Ahh Fall.


Where has the month gone? It seems like Ramadan ended  light years ago. I forgot how quickly the days pass when people are being active; and how much happier people are with their bellies full (well fuller during the day at least…most still only eat one regular meal a day!)
We had the naming ceremony for my new baby sister. It is the first Seneglese event that I felt truly included in, and excited about! We had so many people running around the compound; I had forgotten how much I loved parties in the states. I invited another Peace Corps volunteer who lives 5k away, so it made the experience that much better. There was music, and we killed a sheep, and everyone was giddy with excitement!! It seems like all we did that day was eat, from morning until about 11 pm… a bit of a shock to my system just one day after Ramadan. 

                                
      I think he knows he's done for....              

Waiting for the Kilifa (religious leaders to confirm the baby name)                                        

When the babies name is confirmed they kill the sheep, and bury some blood for a blessing

             Mom and Baby

My aunt cooking a traditional rice topping Chou....parsnips onions and carrots in a broth

   Notice the HUGE pots used to cook the food

    My host brother and his daughter and me




I am not sure if I mentioned it earlier on, but I am getting new PCV neighbors. 3 will be replacing current COS-ing volunteers, and 2 will be new sites. The volunteers in my region of Senegal had a “Kaffrine Day” where we took them to the market, our favorite juice spot, and showed them the cyber café. We finished up by taking them for a beer and our favorite ceeb shack (lunch hut). It was nice to see the new, fresh  excited faces…I know I have been here barely 7 months, but I am amazed how my attitude has changed to fit my situation. I thought I had good coping skills before I came here, but now, I am hard as a rock. I have also had to change my perspective/reality of what I will achieve here, and what development as a whole can achieve on the small scale community based level. The simple fact is: sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, and everyone fails at least once (something I was NOT accustomed to back home). If you want to read more about the shortcomings and failures about aid in Africa check out a great book: 

On the work front: 


I was able to participate in a regional project in the mangroves a couple weeks ago. Mangroves are known as Forests of the Tide, and support more life in their ecosystems than any other system on earth. According to National Geographic "Mangroves provide nursery grounds for fish; a food source for monkeys, deer, tree-climbing crabs, even kangaroos; and a nectar source for bats and honeybees. .. Each mangrove has an ultrafiltration system to keep much of the salt out and a complex root system that allows it to survive in the intertidal zone.  The plants' interlocking roots stop riverborne sediments from coursing out to sea, and their trunks and branches serve as a palisade that diminishes the erosive power of waves." 
We planted mangroves in a delta town called Toubacouta. The place is beautiful…. But the human impact on the mangroves forests over the last 50 years that Senegal has been industrializing is enormous. Where there used to be a network of tidal flats and acre deep forest, there is now just empty sand bars.  
We had a total of 50 community members, in addition to 20-ish PCV’s out in the mud flats during low tide planting mangroves. It was a fun, dirty, tiring day, but by the time we had finished, there were acres and acres of new mangroves seedlings planted in the thick mud.

Mangrove inlet where we stayed

Sorting through the seeds before planting time

Planting the seedlings along the natural water line

The last Friday of every month, my  health hut holds post-natal vaccinations sponsored by UNICEF. I was given a job at the one we had this month…I sold the aspirin and explained the dosage instructions and proper uses. Not exactly the most important job, but I participated none the less. I spoke with the mid-wife in my village, and starting next month we are going to have an information table, covering a different topic each month. I am going to try to get my hands on a baby scale also so I can monitor the children who routinely come through. Hopefully I will have some pictures of this in November.


I also went to an “open field day”… a project held by AgFo and Sustainable Ag volunteers, and part of the region-wide food security initiative. The tour was held in a village at the site of a farming demo plot. The plot is designed to maximize space and food production, while using natural pest management, live fencing, and a host of other techniques. There were tons of Senegalese farmers there, as well as many PCV’s, and our Country Director. Eventually, we want to integrate nutrition and health education into the program, since both play a large role in food security.

                                                       Rice paddy demo plot

                                        The farmers doing a question and answer session


And now for some lagniappe (New Orleans lingo for "a little something extra")


“A Wolof Guide to the Supernatural in Honor of All Hallows Eve"
Since I have been here, I have heard some odd and varied bits of information about supernatural beings and the underworld…although the country as a whole is Muslim, it does retain some of it’s animist beliefs. (There is an ethnic group who is wholly animist, the Bassari, I would love to go to visit a village of this group during a ceremonial celebration!)


Witches: People here talk about witches all the time. 
- If you don’t eat the bitter tomato in the bowl, or you eat it and spit it out, you’re definitely a witch.
-If you ride you’re bicycle in a skirt, you’re probably a witch.
- If the local schizophrenic/fortune teller says you’re a witch, you might not be a witch.


Ghosts: Ghosts are the scape goat for everything, they also serve as reason not to do something.
-If you whistle, you are actually calling the ghosts. (oops! No wonder people give me weird looks when I whistle a tune while I work). This also means you might be a witch, especially if you’re a woman.
- You can’t go into the Baobob forests alone, because ghosts will attack you (this is always the first thing people say, not that you will get attacked by animals, or get lost, but ghosts!!)
- You can’t walk in between corners of buldings and other objects ( ex. Between a house and electrical pole) because the ghosts will get you.
- you can’t go to the well after dark, because there are ghosts
- The most dangerous thing on the bush paths are lions and ghosts (let me remind you there is only 1 pride of lions in all of Senegal and it lives in a protected reserve)


I am sure there are other superstitions, but this is what I have compiled so far…I am totally a witch, and I communicate frequently with ghosts!

The non work related picture of the month:

Kaolack Kitchen Dance Krew...if we aren't busy singing Glee at the top of our lungs, we are cleaning, cooking, and dancing away in the kitchen

My 6 Month Anniversary!!c

As the title indicates: I have officially been in Senegal for 6 months!! It’s the shortest, longest 6 months I have ever had…if that makes any sense. Life has been busy around my compound and village lately.
When I returned from my time in Kaolack, to my surprise the entire village as flooded…think streets turned to rivers sort of flooding. It was gross…there was overflowing douches and horse poop and all of it floating in the “rivers”. But, it was no worse than Kaolack, which was also flooded.
My host brother wanted my help distributing trees to each compound in the village, so we went around with charettes (horse carts) and gave out 2 trees to all the compounds in my village; a pretty awesome task, but so important for the health and aesthetic of our village.

The same day we hosted an Ngente, or naming ceremony, for our neighbors. In Senegal the ngente’s occur 10 days after the child’s birth and involve everyone who is related to the family. It is a highly ritualalized affair. When the parents decide on a name, the baby is given to the Imam, and the Imam whispers the name into the babies ear then the griots (town crier) calls out the babies name for everyone to hear. The baby is brought back to the mom in the room, and from what I observed there is something involving hair and salt before the mother and baby are allowed to leave their room. Then there is a party, and lots of food! So we killed a sheep. Since it is Ramadan, all the food and drink was saved for after sundown.


In other Village news, the peanut harvest is beginning to come in, and now among the other various and odd skills I have learned in Senegal (such as killing and plucking chicken and skinning vermin) I can add harvesting and separating peantus to the list. This is a monumental task, since all of the work is done by hand, and the women sit around for hours tearing the peanuts off of the vines, and eventually shelling them. Farming takes up about 90% of the arable land in Senegal, with 60% making up the peanut basin east of Dakar where I live. 36% of that land is used on, you guessed it, peanuts! So the nuts are incredibly important for the region.




Unfortunatly I came back from Kaolack with dysentery (I will spare you the details), but needless to say I went to sleep the morning of the naming ceremony and didn’t move for 2 days, except to use the facilities. It sucked, but it’s the first time I have gotten sick in country where I didn’t want to go home!


Other good news, Ramdan is over! Woot. However to my dismay, apparently the holiday extends for some time. I went into town to try and get some errands run, and none of the businesses were open a week after Korite (the official end of Ramadan party). I was told by another volunteer not to plan on doing serious project work until Tabaski (the largest Islamic holiday that is in November), because people kind of take a while to “get back in the swing of things”. WTF. I am going to try to do a latrine project anyway, so I guess I will find out!!




My family will be having an Ngente this week because my sister had a baby girl!!!! I am so excited, she was miserably pregnant, and now I am an aunt!

Surviving Ramadan

Ramadan: "is the ninth month of the Islamic calendar. It is the Islamic month offasting, in which participating Muslims refrain from eating, drinking and sexual relations fromdawn until sunset.^[1] Fasting is intended to teach Muslims about patience, humility, and spirituality. It is a time for Muslims to fast for the sake of God (Arabic: الله‎, trans: Allah) and to offer more prayer than usual. During Ramadan, Muslims ask forgiveness for past sins, pray for guidance and help in refraining from everyday evils, and try to purify themselves through self-restraint and good deeds. As compared to the solar calendar, the dates of Ramadan vary, moving backwards about eleven days each year depending on the moon. Muslims believe Ramadan to be an auspicious month for the revelations of God to humankind, being the month in which the first verses of the Qur'an were revealed to the Islamic prophet, Muhammad" (Wikipedia)



In Senegal, Ramadan and fasting is observed by almost everyone, except for the small percentage of Catholics, and even then, I think they are somewhat forced to observe it because essentially the entire country changes it’s pace of life from slow, to barely moving for a whole month. I had said to myself  before the holiday started “ I am not fasting, no way, I neeeeeed to eat!”. Well, was I wrong, since I pay my family to include me in cooking the meals, there is only food and beverages when they eat, which during Ramadan is only between sundown and sun-up. This wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t rainy season and peak agricultural production season also. My typical day is as follows:


5 am: Xudd (my breakfast, but what is typically served for dinner) A porridge of some sort, or bread and sour milk (like yogurt or buttermilk), or millet and beans. All not so bad, but takes a bif of getting used to so early in the AM.


8-9 am: wake up, NO coffee means NO caffeine… I struggled with this the first few days for sure.


9- 11 or 12: work. This is typical for almost everyone to be working at this time.


12-6 pm: sitting, talking, watching tv, LOTS of reading


6-7pm: I have to exercise to salvage my sanity; 12-25k bike ride, depending on weather and heat.


7:28pm: Breaking Fast!!!! We start backwards from meal times so Breakfast is first, then lunch, etc. We have bread and butter with spiced coffee (Café Touba). Then we are given glass after glass of sticky, minty, limey, sweet Bissap (hibiscus) juice. WITH ICE!


8:30/9 pm: Lunch. This is the biggest meal, and is what we typically would eat during the lunch hour…lots more veggies in the bowl, chicken or other “meat” 2-3 times a week. Often followed by a smoothie like concoction of powdered milk, pineapple  or mango juice, and bananas, or Orange Soda.


10:30 pm: Snack, tea. I am usually in bed by this time, either reading or doing stuff on the computer, but when I am not we roast corn over the fire.


So that’s that. It is rough not to drink during the day, and I am not going to lie, but I have cheated on the water thing a lot. I hate the feeling of dehydration, but my body has gotten really used to the food thing. I was grateful to get the care packages my parents sent, because it allowed me to eat AFTER dinner too, and stuff that was yummy like fig newtons and chocolate. 


I think Ramadan wouldn’t be all bad, but I have a few qualms with the idea that people here do it because everyone else does regardless of their religious convictions (kind of like Christmas for Americans). The time is meant to reflect more deeply on your spirituality, and get closer to God…unfortunately it is not practiced as that here, since most people have never even read the Koran. But my biggest problem, comes down to the women and children. The Koran specifies that women who are pregnant, nursing, and menstruating should not fast. The same goes for children below puberty. I have talked myself in a circle of this fact, since the kids and mothers are typically malnourished to begin with, it often makes the situation worse.  Of course people here say “you’re not Muslim, how do you know it’s bad”, so I say “can you read the Koran, do you know what it says?” This confrontation is usually between myself and a teenage to 20 something male, so it’s OK for me to be a bit snarky.
I was rather upset at my very pregnant sister who was fasting, and my sister who is breastfeeding. They just told me I didn’t “understand”. Despite all of it, my sister has stopped producing enough milk and my other one has a bad bad respertory infection (along with all the kids who eat mainly stale bread and old rice all day). I think what bothers me is that they ask me for advice, medicine, money, but as soon as I have something useful to offer, something that is important for health and wellbeing, they ignore it. Oh Senegal.


SO; after 1 month of not leaving the village, after fasting the whole time, after no beer or wine, after killing and plucking chickens all by myself, after a rain storm knocked down one of the huts in my compound, after a giant rat attacked a goat and we ate the rat for dinner, after both schizophrenic adults in my village came to my hut…I headed to my regional house, where I currently have a beer in my hand, and an abundance of food. (note: I still have 1 week or so of Ramadan when I head back).