A Week, Mostly the Same, Mostly Different

First off, i wanna say howdy to those who actually are reading this blog, i feel like i have been useing it too much to keep myself sane and not really thinking about those on the outside who are just getting their picture of me, senegal and my service from this little, quickly and rarely written in and poorly thought through journal of my life in the past few months. I really just noticed that there have been comments on my entries and i have failed to reply to them or anything so in the future i will try to be more observant. Feel free to send me any questions or comments or anything about anything. i swear, i get to a cyber and my mind goes blank for anything actually reasonable to put down, that and the power is always going out. anyway, on with the entry:





I thought i would give, as best i could, an account of the events of this past week. It has not been a typical week for me, though at the same time, there has not really been any 'typical week', since i have been here, constant adventures and all, so i thought it would be entertaining at least to write it all down. I think i may end up writing an awful lot, but this is certainly not even close to all the entertaining, frustrating, boring, busy, ordinary and rediculous things that i did ove the course of those days.





Sunday- after taking my time to get up, i had breakfast in my hut, cereal and a two month old newsweek magazine, i made my way out to the spot that i have found my self going to again and again in the village. It is a few ancient logs and a big concrete stone arranged under a relatively small neem tree out in the middle of the village central, what could be called 'the village square' if i were in a silly mood, an area of cleared sandy flat ground in amonst two of our big baobab trees. It being sunday is of no consequence to anyone but the catholics of course so most people were already out in the fields harvesting millet, or else at the church. This left a group of late teen to early twentys-ish boys, sitting under the trees with me. As i could have expected with the group the conversation went from the names of objects that they happened to be holding, to teaching me the names for all the body parts they could think of, and urged me to give them the english versions. not my favorite game in the world, but i dutifully wrote everything down on my serere writing pad i keep with me, much to their delight. In the afternoon i was sent out to go harvest with some of my brothers who had left earlier. It is amazing how lost one can get in a millet field, and how evidently allergic i am to everything in said millet field.





Monday- The 'first day of school'. I got to the my primary school just about 8 when it was supposed to begin, some students were sitting out front and a door to one class was open. Inside i found the school principal busy in a notebook with something. He pulled out a chair and suggested i sit outside, sure. At this point i dont yet have any 'work' to do but i am supposed to be building a rapport with the teachers, seeing how they do things, help with what i can and observe and understand whata good place for myself and the projects i hope to do. Eventually some of the kids went in too, helped him straighten out the classroom, swept the floor and whatnot, and then he joined me outside. Another teacher came at about this time and he had gone into his classroom, organized some things and left again. Clearly, no class would be held today, the children had all gone off elsewhere as well. A couple village fathers came up and talked with the principal for a while and i listened in, mostly just talking about who will be in what class, how old kids are, why certain ones were held back, and eventually they left. The principal left by 11 and I decided to walk a small loop around the village to see what other folks were up to. I found a group of mostly the church group older guys sitting around the big tree in a recently cleared and burned and raked field by the church. Horse carts, or sarets, were bringing up loads of sand and dumping them next to the cleared space. Whats going on, i ask. A chicken coup, they say. Right. Sitting with them for a few minutes and we go from words for how to say things carried by cart, to things carried by head - 'rohandoox', to things carried by hand - 'seetoox', to things carried on ones shoulder - 'gondoox', to then unexpctedly and without provication into names for certain body parts again, for the second time in as many days, whatever. I go along and write them all down again, the old men think it is possibly the funniest thing ever, and well, maybe it is. A little after noon, as i am getting ready to head back for my mid-day bath, a series of police motorcycles roll by, slowly, along the big road bordering the village. Then two bicycles with racers, and about a minute later, a whole pack of bicycle racers followed by their whole motocade of support vehicles and film crews. Then all the traffic that was backed up from the race, and then, a few minutes later, a lone cyclist trying to catch up, clearly not having a good day. I dont know the serere word for 'that was odd' but i sure wanted to say it about then, wierd. I am sure those with news and internet time could probably have told me what was going on.



Tuesday- Back to school in the morning, to find the principal and one other teacher, a different one than from monday. They busied them selves with some organizing, cleaning type stuff, i offered to help but ended up just sitting outside again playing with the kids. I tried to make small talk with the principal, something i still have not mastered in serere. at one point i tried to ask how ramadan went and i got a mini rant on teachers strikes, right. They left again by 10 and I was back to the village center to chat with the old guys, as is my usual. After lunch they asked me for two things, I bought tea and sugar for the men who help me everyday with serere and we had three rounds while i took out my national geographic world map that i found in my hut when i moved in. People ask me all the time, which way is america (they often point east when the refer to it), whether america is next to the ocean, how far i grew up from new york and where is the capitol of america, and what exactly a north and south and latin america are and if they are all one country. One of the first and loudest comments by many of the men was 'geke a ref senegal? ahh, kaa neew!' -that is senegal, it is so small! I said it is only a little small and it is really nice. then they had me name surrounding countries and continents and point out any places that they had heard of, pretty much new york, the u.s., france, spain, russia and japan. They were impressed that america has TWO oceans, neat, you must eat lots of fish, eh? After this, the men dispersed and I went over to a group of compounds that is always a source of entertainment. After a little while, i pulled out my frisbee and had a quick impromptu three way throwing game with a kid who is a bit goofy and always laughing, and a kid who is deaf but always very intent on communicating with me. The deaf kid ended up being better at the game then either of us, and i dont think he had ever thrown a frisbee before.



Wednesday- I was told at some point earlier that week that on wednesday the first lady, President Wade's wife, would be comming to sandiara, the town 5km east of me. That morning it had drizzled and everything was dewy and i got up early in hopes to leave with my dad, but he left before i could finish my breakfast, and my younger mom and aunt asked me to wait for them so we could all go together. Before we left i went and greeted the principal who was sitting outside the school by himself. Supposedly, the school should start up next week, he says. In sandiara, i quickly find out that there is a new middle school opening, and it is a dedication ceremony, beyond that, i am still not sure what was going on. Some speeches, some music, some dancing, some award or prize giving to students with paticular achievements that i did not quite catch, and a variety of other... stuff... that day could be its own long entry and this one is already pretty long. Needless to say, i was not aware before going that the first lady of senegal was a little old white french lady, but the senegalese seem to love her. In the evening big dark clouds rolled in from the east threatening rain that we havent had for over two weeks, but like the village has some kind of repulsion field the clouds split above us and in the evening the stars come out over head while lighning flashes both to the north and to the south. I go to bed fearing that the rainy season is really over for good, just when i was getting used to it, but then is promptly pours for a couple hours that night.

Thursday- I wait for a while for anyone to come, and i think maybe no one will. The principal in out buying class materials for the kids that i think maybe he recieves somehow or maybe it is jst the village that gives him the money. Eventually a teacher comes opens his class and kids go in, i follow and sit in the back. My french really sucks at this point and my wolof is not much better, but essentially he had the older kids and was going over who was in what class and why and how old everyone was and what materials they needed and what the school schedule was going to be. It wasnt really a class, just an info session, and i spent much of the time smashing these infuriating stinging insects that dont really have any equivilent that i know of in the states. The session lasts just over an hour and afterward i headed to sit with the men again who tell me that i missed out on a big group harvesting thing that morning where a bunch of people all got together and helped clear a large area of millet field. I guess i am sad i missed that though the school thing was important too and i probably wouldnt have been that much help in the harvesting, i understand the technique, i am just several times slower than everyone else at it.

Friday- Get up to the village super foggy, like visibility of 100 meters foggy, very cool. almost think to put on a long sleve shirt for the day if it will be even a little chilly for a while. with no sence of humor, the sun burns its way through in a hurry and the day was blazingly hot and not a llittle humid, gross. Wait at the school for a long time and almost decide that no one is coming before the principal shows up with a group of kids in toe helfting the notebookds and things he had bought in a rice sack. I sit with him for a while again, get the word for foggy in serere- 'kaa lima', and he gives out some pieces of chalk to a group of excited giggling girls, probably 7-8ish who precede to mark up any surface they can find with designs. save it for class, he says, but we both know that they probably wont. Classes start on monday, he assures me. After a leasurly lunch-time break, i go back out to the 'square' armed with my frisbee, hoping to stir up some trouble. Not many people out but a few very young kids. try to teach them to throw and catch which is very entertaining. the disc poseses some kind of magical properties that make them scream whenever it is in the air or on the ground or flying at them or after they have thrown it. it is like i have taught them to hurl lightning bolts, only they dont see it as the least bit dangerous, and before i repeatedly demonstrated the flying ability, they insisted on standing perhaps two or three feet from me, often smacking me or one of the other kids in the face while trying to throw it and everyone erupts into laughter as they chase it and try again. Pretty hysterical. Soon, some older kids come along to monoploize the game and it ends up with me running around barefoot throwing back and forth to two or three other kids who are pretty quick learners. How to teach them a game like ultimate though, well that may be beyond my abilities, maybe in a year.

Saturday- and that bring us to today. lets see, slept-in, well, got up at 740, basically sleeping in but the frog army that storms my room each morning makes it hard to actually sleep past 7. leasurly breakfast of cereal and a month and a half old newsweek magazine. then hopped an alham, big scarry mercedes busses several decades old, and got to mbour this morning and have been interneting my time away right here. oh and had lunch, yassa poulet- chicken in an onion sauce over rice and a couple sprites, refreshing.

Gosh, that really isnt even the half of what all happend this week, but i guess those are the highlights, the rest will find its way into other journals or letters or things here and there. I think i may add a list of things or two to the sidebar of this blog, so look out!

Njookanyong!