So Thanksgiving and Christmas and the new year are all rolling by without much written here about it, so... oh, and also I have what is becoming an absurdly big post about my bike trip, whice people probably dont really care about that much, so itll go up backdated later.
Well, thanksgiving for us was pushed back by several weeks. I spent the actual day of thanksgiving in the village, not doing really anything that resembled holiday stuff, but it was a good time to use as an excuse to relax a bit.
The saturday after was Tabaski, the grand holiday which here involves great sheep slaughtering. Last year I broke out my new camera and took a ton of pictures of the day. This year, I chilled with the old men who were mostly playing cards. I purposely missed the slaughtering and ended up missing about all the butchering too. By the time lunch came around I realized I had taken basically no pictures but wasnt really in the mood to start then. It was like a very chill time of eating that wasnt as great as I remembered from last year, but nice enough. That night there was a big soiree at this fenced in area set up next to the school. They had a generator and huge speakers that blasted music until nearly sunrise for two days. This year that all happened about a hundred meters from my hut, it was not a great time for good sleep.
The other unfortunate part of the holiday was the meat. Even after the first night, eating it for lunch and again for dinner, was something my stomache did not appreciate. I wasnt sick at least but it felt mostly like something was slowly twisting my digestive organs into pretzels. Then we had the meat again for lunch and dinner on sunday. Then more on monday. And more tuesday. Wednesday I was so happy to see it absent, joyous that it hadnt killed me. And then we had more meat on Thursday and I thought i was going to throw up just from the smell. I came out ok in the end. But still, keep in mind I am in a village. We have no electricity, no refrigeration, no ice. The meat is just left out in chunks on a concrete shelf or on the floor in a small metal roofed cooking hut that the air for the most part has been replaced with flies. I try to avoid going near that building after holidays.
Anyway, so then, after my big ole bike trip, I got back to site on the 23rd. Most of my holiday plans were made pretty last minute. I hosted two voluteers that day, they were coming from Tamba and were headed to Saly, just north of Mbour, to spend Xmas with a small group there. Also that day, an American young woman named Ruth came to the village. She is working with the large garden in my village that is owned by a guy from Dakar. Surprisingly she is staying in Louly for about a month, living in my house even, with my family.
Anyway, so then I went to the beach with a different group for Christmas. We got a house up in Popenguine and had an amazing time. There were maybe more than a dozen of us for the actual day of Christmas, some were there earlier than others, some, including me, left later than most. We grilled food on the beach, later made an amazing roast and other food that was all fantastic. We even did white elephant- I got a platic gun which i promptly broke trying to get it working and an inflatable Santa with a squeeking foot which I gave as a present to the people of Popinguine who would surely appreciate the off-season holiday spirit more than the people of Louly...
A day or two after Christmas was tamxarit, a holiday here marking the Islamic new year. Last year I was in the village to see it but this time I missed it, though there is not really too much to see till nighttime anyway and these days I like to sleep after sunset. Yeah, I know, I have gotten really lame.
Then after a couple days in the village again I went up to Dakar for New Years. Though I didnt really do much but sit at the regional house, which in fact is the same thing I did last year. But there was a lot of people out in the city and we say and heard a huge amount of fireworks and noisemakers the whole night and into the next day.
Anyway, now I have been in the village a lot, trying to get just about everything done at once and for once actually accomplishing some of it. I will write up a good post later on the latrine progress. It is progressing!
Developments in Progress!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Friday, December 4, 2009
Composting Possibilities
Ok, so this is a long long overdue response to inquiries I recieved from several people on the subject of composting latrines. I had started writing a post about it ages ago, then stopped and wanted to do more research on it, then forgot about it amidst other work, then remembered it again to look further into it, then i forgot to write up a response, and now I am back at it again, for real this time.
So, lets see. There are several ways that a composting toilet can work. But basically the idea is to limit wasted water, even maybe separating liquid waste from solid, to prevent the spread of pathogens, and to manage the solid waste and aiding decomposistion until it is ready to be used out in the fields or gardens.
Now, for our latrines. The idea of public latrines was brought up and floated about the village for a while before being nearly unanimously voted down. What people wanted, and understandably, was for each family to have their own latrine to clean and manage. Each household getting a latrine meant an emphasis on the utility and minimal resources and something easily incorporated into the already existing village layout. This meant pit latrines topped with a turkish toilet, aka a hole. Now this design works in its simplest form in most parts of the country, all you need to do is put a slab of concrete with a hole all reinforced with rebar over the pit and voila, your very own latrine. Our soil is super sandy in our area and so we are forced to modify the design slightly. We have to cement the walls of the pit, or as we are doing, brick it in. Also, we could have had the hole in the center of the slab, but this would need extra cement and rebar. Cheaper than that is to make a solid slab and fix a pipe to the side that can run to whatever one wants to have at the elbow bend, turkish toilet or a fancy seat or whatever. There will also be a 2m pipe coming from the corner going straight up, acting as a ventilation stack.
So then, with such a design, once it is filled, five or ten years from now depending on the size of the family and all that, a new pit can be dug and cemented for relatively minimal cost, and the slab and pipes can be moved over to that one. Then what to do with all that junk? I had been thinking about this from the begining though explaining it to the community has proved a bit challenging. They have little ideas about the usefulness of compost, but they do know about spreading manure in gardens and around field crops, so there is a base of knowledge.
One option, of course, is to simply do nothing with it, leave it there. This in fact opens up some other avenues of waste disposal. What can we do with these old razor blades, throw them down the latrine. What about broken glass, this old rusted metal or barbed wire? Even more dangerous, all these old batteries that just lay around in the sun and break open and invite young children to put them in their mouths. This seems such an obvious and immediate solution to this growing hazordous trash problem that for a while it seemed just easier to advocate that then try and push any other kind of strategy.
But doing composting is also an excellent benifit to the comunity and to the environment. One issue though is that the layout of the the latrines themselves does not yeild itself particularly well to making efficient compost. There is no way to stir, to aeorate the solid waste. While it may not be that hard to add good imputs like sawdust, this is not available in the village and might not be stustainable to try and push its use village wide, especially if people would have to go and buy it from a nearby town.
So I think I can explain the different sides of it to each family as we go. My plan all along has been to include some health lessons family by family about proper handwashing techniques, about where disease comes from, and the importance of having a clean environment. Then people can decide for themselves if they would like to try and see how the composting option works. Once their latrine is full, a new pit is dug and they can should leave the other pit, covered in grass for example, for several months or maybe a year for the cold compost process to break down the waste. Then they can empty the pits and use it as compost, as fertilizer, wherever it is needed in their gardens or in thier fields.
And then thats about that. Honestly any more complicated approach may work on a public latrine basis, but that is not what people want here. People do need latrines, any latrines, because now there is nothing. I will do my best to present all the information I have avaliable to them and explain it particularly to village representatives who can pass that information along after PCVs are gone. If a family wants to just throw trash down into it, it may fill up a little faster, but after it is full they can dig them selves a new one and the old one will decompose on its own and can be buried. If they want to be brave and try the compost thing, if they can get over the stigma of where it all came from, then they can go for that too, maybe not in the most efficient way but they have the basic tools and can do it for an added benifit of soil quality and a healthier environment.
So, lets see. There are several ways that a composting toilet can work. But basically the idea is to limit wasted water, even maybe separating liquid waste from solid, to prevent the spread of pathogens, and to manage the solid waste and aiding decomposistion until it is ready to be used out in the fields or gardens.
Now, for our latrines. The idea of public latrines was brought up and floated about the village for a while before being nearly unanimously voted down. What people wanted, and understandably, was for each family to have their own latrine to clean and manage. Each household getting a latrine meant an emphasis on the utility and minimal resources and something easily incorporated into the already existing village layout. This meant pit latrines topped with a turkish toilet, aka a hole. Now this design works in its simplest form in most parts of the country, all you need to do is put a slab of concrete with a hole all reinforced with rebar over the pit and voila, your very own latrine. Our soil is super sandy in our area and so we are forced to modify the design slightly. We have to cement the walls of the pit, or as we are doing, brick it in. Also, we could have had the hole in the center of the slab, but this would need extra cement and rebar. Cheaper than that is to make a solid slab and fix a pipe to the side that can run to whatever one wants to have at the elbow bend, turkish toilet or a fancy seat or whatever. There will also be a 2m pipe coming from the corner going straight up, acting as a ventilation stack.
So then, with such a design, once it is filled, five or ten years from now depending on the size of the family and all that, a new pit can be dug and cemented for relatively minimal cost, and the slab and pipes can be moved over to that one. Then what to do with all that junk? I had been thinking about this from the begining though explaining it to the community has proved a bit challenging. They have little ideas about the usefulness of compost, but they do know about spreading manure in gardens and around field crops, so there is a base of knowledge.
One option, of course, is to simply do nothing with it, leave it there. This in fact opens up some other avenues of waste disposal. What can we do with these old razor blades, throw them down the latrine. What about broken glass, this old rusted metal or barbed wire? Even more dangerous, all these old batteries that just lay around in the sun and break open and invite young children to put them in their mouths. This seems such an obvious and immediate solution to this growing hazordous trash problem that for a while it seemed just easier to advocate that then try and push any other kind of strategy.
But doing composting is also an excellent benifit to the comunity and to the environment. One issue though is that the layout of the the latrines themselves does not yeild itself particularly well to making efficient compost. There is no way to stir, to aeorate the solid waste. While it may not be that hard to add good imputs like sawdust, this is not available in the village and might not be stustainable to try and push its use village wide, especially if people would have to go and buy it from a nearby town.
So I think I can explain the different sides of it to each family as we go. My plan all along has been to include some health lessons family by family about proper handwashing techniques, about where disease comes from, and the importance of having a clean environment. Then people can decide for themselves if they would like to try and see how the composting option works. Once their latrine is full, a new pit is dug and they can should leave the other pit, covered in grass for example, for several months or maybe a year for the cold compost process to break down the waste. Then they can empty the pits and use it as compost, as fertilizer, wherever it is needed in their gardens or in thier fields.
And then thats about that. Honestly any more complicated approach may work on a public latrine basis, but that is not what people want here. People do need latrines, any latrines, because now there is nothing. I will do my best to present all the information I have avaliable to them and explain it particularly to village representatives who can pass that information along after PCVs are gone. If a family wants to just throw trash down into it, it may fill up a little faster, but after it is full they can dig them selves a new one and the old one will decompose on its own and can be buried. If they want to be brave and try the compost thing, if they can get over the stigma of where it all came from, then they can go for that too, maybe not in the most efficient way but they have the basic tools and can do it for an added benifit of soil quality and a healthier environment.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Owe Ñaayaa
Looking back on my recent entries I realized that I havent really made any real update on what is going on in Louly right now.
So the harvests are finishing up now. The millet was tons of itchy fun. Peanuts are tons of all kinds of work but worth it. The beans are pretty much done and now people are waiting on bissap. The sorghum is also getting all cut down now and we have been eating that most nights.
With the kids finished with that I hope that we can actually have some legit afterschool ee club meetings. We had a couple little things, and one of them was actually kinda cool. Mostly we transplanted some mango trees. A mango that sits protected in a big garden had tons of seeds strewn about it that have turned into a tiny forest of little saplings. We moved a bunch into the school garden in plastic sacks that we are watering for a couple weeks to outplant in peoples fields or wherever the kids want them.
The teachers love to string me along but they say they would love to do some environmental lessons with their usual topics. So, maybe that will happen soon, inchallah.
I am trying to get some good stuf going with the college in Sandiara. The English teachers there say they can really use some help, the students get used to their accent and expressions and could use a native speaker. They are as slow to get going as the primary school though and only slightly less frustrating with strikes. At least they are genuinaly interested and communicating.
Something good going on now though- I have been pestering the heads of household a lot recently. The latrine project, yes that project that I am so honored to have gotten funding for from friends and strangers back home that I thank you all so much for, well it is still getting itself started. This is Africa, as they say, eh? Well, so we were waiting for the rainy season to end so we could start building. Then all the men and boys were busy with the millet and peanut harvest. Now that is wañing, err English... work is finishing, so we can start now. And so I have been telling them. We should start now, ndiiki, ndiiki ndiiki, now now, like yesterday would be better. The thing holding us back is that we decided that a family needs to contribute their full amount before they can get a latrine and that we would build them in groups. So now, eight families of the fifty have given the full amount but all but three are pretty scattered around. So we decided to start with those and the mason, my counterpart and I went and marked off where they should dig their pit.
This little activity sparked some good interest and people came up and after some discussion my counterpart and the mason agreed to mark off everyones pit dimentions so they can start digging. The beauty of doing it at the end of the rainy season is that the ground is softer, but its getting dry pretty quick and people would rather do less work in the short term than wait and have more to do. Thats good there, its a kind of planning ahead I think which is not often seen here.
Anyway, so now they are busy going from area to area in the village when they have time, marking off where the pit will be. They are nearly finished now and several people are nearly finished digging too. I will definitly get pictures of the process as it goes so you all can see how amazing this is to them and how much they want this.
So thats the main stuff going down. I am mostly pestering husbands and wives to give the money that remains for them to give. With the harvests being sold off, this is the exact time of year that people actually have money to spare and will more than likely throw it away at tea and sugar if i dont gently nudge them...
So the harvests are finishing up now. The millet was tons of itchy fun. Peanuts are tons of all kinds of work but worth it. The beans are pretty much done and now people are waiting on bissap. The sorghum is also getting all cut down now and we have been eating that most nights.
With the kids finished with that I hope that we can actually have some legit afterschool ee club meetings. We had a couple little things, and one of them was actually kinda cool. Mostly we transplanted some mango trees. A mango that sits protected in a big garden had tons of seeds strewn about it that have turned into a tiny forest of little saplings. We moved a bunch into the school garden in plastic sacks that we are watering for a couple weeks to outplant in peoples fields or wherever the kids want them.
The teachers love to string me along but they say they would love to do some environmental lessons with their usual topics. So, maybe that will happen soon, inchallah.
I am trying to get some good stuf going with the college in Sandiara. The English teachers there say they can really use some help, the students get used to their accent and expressions and could use a native speaker. They are as slow to get going as the primary school though and only slightly less frustrating with strikes. At least they are genuinaly interested and communicating.
Something good going on now though- I have been pestering the heads of household a lot recently. The latrine project, yes that project that I am so honored to have gotten funding for from friends and strangers back home that I thank you all so much for, well it is still getting itself started. This is Africa, as they say, eh? Well, so we were waiting for the rainy season to end so we could start building. Then all the men and boys were busy with the millet and peanut harvest. Now that is wañing, err English... work is finishing, so we can start now. And so I have been telling them. We should start now, ndiiki, ndiiki ndiiki, now now, like yesterday would be better. The thing holding us back is that we decided that a family needs to contribute their full amount before they can get a latrine and that we would build them in groups. So now, eight families of the fifty have given the full amount but all but three are pretty scattered around. So we decided to start with those and the mason, my counterpart and I went and marked off where they should dig their pit.
This little activity sparked some good interest and people came up and after some discussion my counterpart and the mason agreed to mark off everyones pit dimentions so they can start digging. The beauty of doing it at the end of the rainy season is that the ground is softer, but its getting dry pretty quick and people would rather do less work in the short term than wait and have more to do. Thats good there, its a kind of planning ahead I think which is not often seen here.
Anyway, so now they are busy going from area to area in the village when they have time, marking off where the pit will be. They are nearly finished now and several people are nearly finished digging too. I will definitly get pictures of the process as it goes so you all can see how amazing this is to them and how much they want this.
So thats the main stuff going down. I am mostly pestering husbands and wives to give the money that remains for them to give. With the harvests being sold off, this is the exact time of year that people actually have money to spare and will more than likely throw it away at tea and sugar if i dont gently nudge them...
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Future in Progress
Ok, so I have been doing a lot of thinking of what i will do post-Senegal. For all the same reasons that I liked the Peace Corps, selfish reasons, I still want to see the world, learn about new cultures, maybe learn a new language or two, live in a place and do things that will be expensive and hard if not impossible when I am older, settled and working a real job. Then it is just a question of where I want to go and what I want to do.
Earlier this year I gave some thought to trying to learn Arabic and after PC I could get a job with an development organization or other work in a Mid-Eastern Arabic speaking country. This seemed rather bold and I hadnt really narrowed anything down. This summer I started to drift from the idea of Arabic, at least right now, though I do hear it is a very logical and interesting language. Senegal is not so bad, but I could always go somewhere with a different majority religion for a change.
So then I started to think about where else I could work, what other language would be challenging and amazing to learn, what I could do. Then I started to think about China. It is a really interesting place to me and is diverse and undergoing many changes. It is a growing sprawling industrial power with vast and growing environmental problems. And hey, I am an environmental volunteer, right? Not that what I do here would qualify for much there, but maybe it would be an in with some NGO. I have some friends of friends who have or are teaching English in China. That certainly is a possiblility but I wanted to see if there would be other options that could get me a toe in otherwise. I would love to learn Mandarin. I realize it is one of the hardest languages for a speaker of a European language to learn, it being tonal and all. But I studied linguistics and that certainly helped with my Seereer.
So then, three months ago now, I was talking to a couple volunteers from the north of Senegal and explaining my thought process and how after PC I could find away to move to and work in China. They mentioned the fact that there was at least one Mauritanian volunteer who, this past spring extended his service with PC China.
I had not even concidered this possiblility. I had thought of extending in Senegal. And even now I go back and forth on it. The problem is probably my own perceptions on a justification. I dont hate Senegal now, I could do another year here I think, but I would rather go somewhere new. Also my village could totally use a new volunteer, not many EEs extend in their own sites and do the same work here. So that would mean a Seereer town. My French has deterioated to mostly useless. My Wolof isnt good enough for anything more elaborate. And I dont know what I could do in a Seereer town but work with a college and that would need to be a new site and I am not sure if I could do that or could justify it here, or if there would even be such a site avaliable and wanting a volunteer.
I had emailed PC Senegal's country director soon after but it was right when the new trainees were coming in and he was far to busy and overlooked or forgot about my email. Since then I have been trying to corner him whenever I come to Dakar, which has not been that frequent really. The day before yesterday I did finally get an appointment with him. I had prepared for him to ask a dozen complex questions and appeals for me to at least extend my service in Senegal and I wasnt sure how to be articulate when I am so easily intimidated. Anyway, so as usual all tension was just in my head. He was surprisingly easy about it. I just need to update my resume and write a letter of intent that would get forwarded from him to Washington and that would be it.
China has a program that is excusively English education, and from what I understand, all teaching at the university level. An extension of this kind is not just out of the country, but the region, Africa, and out of my sector. He explained that it would probably not be a problem for me. China is looking for extending 3rd years, they are safe bets for stable volunteers. Also I was initially invited as an English education volunteer, I volunteered at my university's center for English as a second language, tutoring study abroad students. Here I also worked a week of English camp at a highschool in Dakar and I have made plans to work more formally with the nearby college in the next town, helping in thier English classes and maybe facilitating an afterschool club. Our country director said that all that would probably qualify me enough for this program.
I was shocked at how simple it was put. Just update my resume, type up an intention statement, email those off and there I am. Instead of haveing to look for a different NGO in the states, apply when I get home, probably fly myself out and find a place to live, PC will get me out there, where I need to be. They will get me the training nessesary, resources, money and housing. Plus, if I could manage to spend some time on Mandarin, what better way to learn a language than with PC and its resources? They provide basically free medical everything for as long as I am with them. It almost seems crazy not to try and stay on with them when I have had such a good service thus far.
So thats where I am now. I got my old resume out and boy does it look simplex and silly. I understand that China's program starts in June. Six months before countries generally send out all their invitations. So I would like to get these out as soon as possible and get a slot early. In talking to some extending volunteers here in Dakar I have some idea of what to expect and what I still need to figure out.
I know that PC has extending volunteers take a month-ish, i think, vacation before extending. I guess from a mental health standpoint they dont want us to be away from the rest of the world for so long we lose sight of it or otherwise flip out. So, for all you out there who ask me one and only one question, I should be back in America sometime if not for all of May. There is that wrestling tournament May 7-11 in Louly that I would kinda like to be at again, but I could stand to miss it.
So, ok, there it is. English education in China in 2010. That has a nice ring to it.
Earlier this year I gave some thought to trying to learn Arabic and after PC I could get a job with an development organization or other work in a Mid-Eastern Arabic speaking country. This seemed rather bold and I hadnt really narrowed anything down. This summer I started to drift from the idea of Arabic, at least right now, though I do hear it is a very logical and interesting language. Senegal is not so bad, but I could always go somewhere with a different majority religion for a change.
So then I started to think about where else I could work, what other language would be challenging and amazing to learn, what I could do. Then I started to think about China. It is a really interesting place to me and is diverse and undergoing many changes. It is a growing sprawling industrial power with vast and growing environmental problems. And hey, I am an environmental volunteer, right? Not that what I do here would qualify for much there, but maybe it would be an in with some NGO. I have some friends of friends who have or are teaching English in China. That certainly is a possiblility but I wanted to see if there would be other options that could get me a toe in otherwise. I would love to learn Mandarin. I realize it is one of the hardest languages for a speaker of a European language to learn, it being tonal and all. But I studied linguistics and that certainly helped with my Seereer.
So then, three months ago now, I was talking to a couple volunteers from the north of Senegal and explaining my thought process and how after PC I could find away to move to and work in China. They mentioned the fact that there was at least one Mauritanian volunteer who, this past spring extended his service with PC China.
I had not even concidered this possiblility. I had thought of extending in Senegal. And even now I go back and forth on it. The problem is probably my own perceptions on a justification. I dont hate Senegal now, I could do another year here I think, but I would rather go somewhere new. Also my village could totally use a new volunteer, not many EEs extend in their own sites and do the same work here. So that would mean a Seereer town. My French has deterioated to mostly useless. My Wolof isnt good enough for anything more elaborate. And I dont know what I could do in a Seereer town but work with a college and that would need to be a new site and I am not sure if I could do that or could justify it here, or if there would even be such a site avaliable and wanting a volunteer.
I had emailed PC Senegal's country director soon after but it was right when the new trainees were coming in and he was far to busy and overlooked or forgot about my email. Since then I have been trying to corner him whenever I come to Dakar, which has not been that frequent really. The day before yesterday I did finally get an appointment with him. I had prepared for him to ask a dozen complex questions and appeals for me to at least extend my service in Senegal and I wasnt sure how to be articulate when I am so easily intimidated. Anyway, so as usual all tension was just in my head. He was surprisingly easy about it. I just need to update my resume and write a letter of intent that would get forwarded from him to Washington and that would be it.
China has a program that is excusively English education, and from what I understand, all teaching at the university level. An extension of this kind is not just out of the country, but the region, Africa, and out of my sector. He explained that it would probably not be a problem for me. China is looking for extending 3rd years, they are safe bets for stable volunteers. Also I was initially invited as an English education volunteer, I volunteered at my university's center for English as a second language, tutoring study abroad students. Here I also worked a week of English camp at a highschool in Dakar and I have made plans to work more formally with the nearby college in the next town, helping in thier English classes and maybe facilitating an afterschool club. Our country director said that all that would probably qualify me enough for this program.
I was shocked at how simple it was put. Just update my resume, type up an intention statement, email those off and there I am. Instead of haveing to look for a different NGO in the states, apply when I get home, probably fly myself out and find a place to live, PC will get me out there, where I need to be. They will get me the training nessesary, resources, money and housing. Plus, if I could manage to spend some time on Mandarin, what better way to learn a language than with PC and its resources? They provide basically free medical everything for as long as I am with them. It almost seems crazy not to try and stay on with them when I have had such a good service thus far.
So thats where I am now. I got my old resume out and boy does it look simplex and silly. I understand that China's program starts in June. Six months before countries generally send out all their invitations. So I would like to get these out as soon as possible and get a slot early. In talking to some extending volunteers here in Dakar I have some idea of what to expect and what I still need to figure out.
I know that PC has extending volunteers take a month-ish, i think, vacation before extending. I guess from a mental health standpoint they dont want us to be away from the rest of the world for so long we lose sight of it or otherwise flip out. So, for all you out there who ask me one and only one question, I should be back in America sometime if not for all of May. There is that wrestling tournament May 7-11 in Louly that I would kinda like to be at again, but I could stand to miss it.
So, ok, there it is. English education in China in 2010. That has a nice ring to it.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Fishing and CIEE Students Visit
Every six months or so volunteers get asked if they are interested in hosting one or two American study abroad students who are studying in Dakar for the semester. Last November I hosted two, I am sure I prolly blogged about it, I should check, but it was full of things like peanut shelling and staying up all night in my hut listening to the bbc on my shortwave to hear about the election results.
In the spring I think I had stuff going on or meetings or something and I wasnt free to host anyone for that whole week. And then when I saw the email about them wanting volunteer volunteers to host, well I didnt see the email till the thurs before the monday they would come, so I decided not to make a big deal out of it, they probably had enough other sites and hosts and I wouldnt change my plans.
That Sunday I left to Popenguine for some fishing with the volunteer there, Ankith. It is a really nice beach town and when I got there I played a little bocce ball before we went and got drinks at this bar that is right near his house and then we had a huge amazing chicken dinner. We then slept on his roof where it was actually nice and cool and in the morning we all woke up dewy. Yay, changing seasons!
Then we went out to the beach. There was a nice little group of us. Jen my close neighbor was also there with her friend from the states, the new volunteer from Mbour, Alex came too.
Oh, I never announced this. Mbour Has A New Volunteer! My "site mate" has been given a real site mate!! :( But, seriously, he is cool, he lives on the other side of town from Jen and has connections to an amazing campement on the beach. I guessit doesnt really change too much for me but I have more neighbors, the petit cote is full of beach side volunteers and i am the only silly inlander.
Anyway, also a couple extending volunteers were down from Dakar and another volunteer from the sand-locked land of Linguere. So the eight of us got taken out in a pirogue by two Senegalese fishermen, we went out a few kms from shore and fished all morning. There are pictures on facebook, (i didnt bring my camera, i know, i am brilliant), we used fishing line with two hooks and a sinker tied around random bits of wood. The fish that we used for bait, yep, you guessed it, the very fish that is the only fish that we see in my village. Awesome.
So the fishing was cool. Pretty different in some ways and similar in some ways to the first time that I went sea fishing years and years ago. On this little boat though, i did become unexpectantly minorly sea sick. I didnt think I would, but i am not often on rocking boats out in the ocean like that. It wasnt so bad that I would throw up but it was annoying that I couldnt really enjoy myself that much and on top of that I didnt catch anything. Plenty of fish got some nice chunks of my bait though.
After all that and a great lunch I went back to site. My host dad had called and said there was a toubab there or something. I figured it was just some micro-finance person or, more likely, another WWOOF volunteer that needed my help translating.
Oh, I should probably explain that WWOOF thing, see there are so many things that happen here that I dont get to blog about. Ok, i will write something on that soon, I swear.
So anyway, big surprise when I get home to see there are two young women at my house and they are CIEE exchange students from Dakar that got placed in my village anyway, regardless if I responded to them or not. They were very laid back and said they could follow me around or just do their own thing for the week they would spend in Louly. I did have a couple things planned to do that I still needed to get done but there was no reason that they couldnt follow me around and I could accompany them out for field work stuff and help translate. Also, cause I thought it would be simpler for everyone, I told them they could stay in my hut and use my douche instead of trying to work out a thing with my oft crazy family. We also shared breakfast and ate lunch together and dinner with my dad.
It was unexpected but it was a good week. The first day we walked 5km to Sandiara, my nearest town to talk to the English teachers there. I think some things that I was doing for my work was pretty boring for them but they were really cool about it. Also as often happens when around English speakers, I suffer from a kind of verbal vomiting, I just talk and talk about everything and nothing, just happy to be talking with ease and being understood. I think I talked way more that week than I have in a long time and more than is probably good for anyone. Later in the week we also went to the kindergarten for a little and worked in various segments of the peanut harvest. We beat the peanut piles with sticks to get them off the plants and get the plants broken into smallish pieces, we sifted the peanuts from the plants, we shelled peanuts, we ate peanuts, roasted peanuts and had them in sauces.
I think they had a pretty decent week. My family and neighbors liked them. My three year old brother Abdou was offered as husband to one of them, Victoria, who was from New York and had been at school in Vermont. My equally toddlering cousin Bass was offered to Jocelyn, a student from California. Most of my pictures and most of the week felt like it was spent sifting peanuts. It really is amazing how much work goes into those little things, and I couldnt help thinking how there was probably a single complex machine that does all that we did that whole week in a few seconds in America.
Thanks for coming over you two, come back anytime! And anyone else who wants to visit, come on over! I have sorghum couscous!
In the spring I think I had stuff going on or meetings or something and I wasnt free to host anyone for that whole week. And then when I saw the email about them wanting volunteer volunteers to host, well I didnt see the email till the thurs before the monday they would come, so I decided not to make a big deal out of it, they probably had enough other sites and hosts and I wouldnt change my plans.
That Sunday I left to Popenguine for some fishing with the volunteer there, Ankith. It is a really nice beach town and when I got there I played a little bocce ball before we went and got drinks at this bar that is right near his house and then we had a huge amazing chicken dinner. We then slept on his roof where it was actually nice and cool and in the morning we all woke up dewy. Yay, changing seasons!
Then we went out to the beach. There was a nice little group of us. Jen my close neighbor was also there with her friend from the states, the new volunteer from Mbour, Alex came too.
Oh, I never announced this. Mbour Has A New Volunteer! My "site mate" has been given a real site mate!! :( But, seriously, he is cool, he lives on the other side of town from Jen and has connections to an amazing campement on the beach. I guessit doesnt really change too much for me but I have more neighbors, the petit cote is full of beach side volunteers and i am the only silly inlander.
Anyway, also a couple extending volunteers were down from Dakar and another volunteer from the sand-locked land of Linguere. So the eight of us got taken out in a pirogue by two Senegalese fishermen, we went out a few kms from shore and fished all morning. There are pictures on facebook, (i didnt bring my camera, i know, i am brilliant), we used fishing line with two hooks and a sinker tied around random bits of wood. The fish that we used for bait, yep, you guessed it, the very fish that is the only fish that we see in my village. Awesome.
So the fishing was cool. Pretty different in some ways and similar in some ways to the first time that I went sea fishing years and years ago. On this little boat though, i did become unexpectantly minorly sea sick. I didnt think I would, but i am not often on rocking boats out in the ocean like that. It wasnt so bad that I would throw up but it was annoying that I couldnt really enjoy myself that much and on top of that I didnt catch anything. Plenty of fish got some nice chunks of my bait though.
After all that and a great lunch I went back to site. My host dad had called and said there was a toubab there or something. I figured it was just some micro-finance person or, more likely, another WWOOF volunteer that needed my help translating.
Oh, I should probably explain that WWOOF thing, see there are so many things that happen here that I dont get to blog about. Ok, i will write something on that soon, I swear.
So anyway, big surprise when I get home to see there are two young women at my house and they are CIEE exchange students from Dakar that got placed in my village anyway, regardless if I responded to them or not. They were very laid back and said they could follow me around or just do their own thing for the week they would spend in Louly. I did have a couple things planned to do that I still needed to get done but there was no reason that they couldnt follow me around and I could accompany them out for field work stuff and help translate. Also, cause I thought it would be simpler for everyone, I told them they could stay in my hut and use my douche instead of trying to work out a thing with my oft crazy family. We also shared breakfast and ate lunch together and dinner with my dad.
It was unexpected but it was a good week. The first day we walked 5km to Sandiara, my nearest town to talk to the English teachers there. I think some things that I was doing for my work was pretty boring for them but they were really cool about it. Also as often happens when around English speakers, I suffer from a kind of verbal vomiting, I just talk and talk about everything and nothing, just happy to be talking with ease and being understood. I think I talked way more that week than I have in a long time and more than is probably good for anyone. Later in the week we also went to the kindergarten for a little and worked in various segments of the peanut harvest. We beat the peanut piles with sticks to get them off the plants and get the plants broken into smallish pieces, we sifted the peanuts from the plants, we shelled peanuts, we ate peanuts, roasted peanuts and had them in sauces.
I think they had a pretty decent week. My family and neighbors liked them. My three year old brother Abdou was offered as husband to one of them, Victoria, who was from New York and had been at school in Vermont. My equally toddlering cousin Bass was offered to Jocelyn, a student from California. Most of my pictures and most of the week felt like it was spent sifting peanuts. It really is amazing how much work goes into those little things, and I couldnt help thinking how there was probably a single complex machine that does all that we did that whole week in a few seconds in America.
Thanks for coming over you two, come back anytime! And anyone else who wants to visit, come on over! I have sorghum couscous!
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Yeah Progress
Ok, so I should do a legit post but, well, heres what you get-
I am in the midst of a massive picture upload, so... check them out!!!
They are pictures from rainy season, pictures from bike trip, from harvest and more!!
I am in Dakar right now with some lovely connection avaliable. I also hope, in the next few days, to decide some of my future fate, but that can be explained later...
I am in the midst of a massive picture upload, so... check them out!!!
They are pictures from rainy season, pictures from bike trip, from harvest and more!!
I am in Dakar right now with some lovely connection avaliable. I also hope, in the next few days, to decide some of my future fate, but that can be explained later...
Monday, November 2, 2009
Ndang o Ndang
So I think I should have mentioned it on this at some point that I am doing a dictionary with Bethany another Seereer PCV. Together we had enough personability, boldness, linguistic background, and sheer insanity during PST to make us think that we could attempt to put one together during our service. It has taken a lot of work, a great deal more work than we had previously thought, but we are nearing what may look like something of a half-decent first edition draft of a legitimate Seereer dictionary.
It has been a lot of our own work, words that we have heard, gotten our own definition of and written down as best we could. We also have gotten some from other volunteers, particularly one who just COSed, go Guy! Through formatting issues and problems with different interpretations, different spellings, different, dialects, different roots, all kinds of mess, we are finally getting together something.
I just felt like I should write something about that, since it is what I have put a good deal of work into. Seereer is a difficult language and I should do a much more involved post just on how interesting it is and the different facets and amazing aspects of it.
word of the day- niangeniang: rainbow
It has been a lot of our own work, words that we have heard, gotten our own definition of and written down as best we could. We also have gotten some from other volunteers, particularly one who just COSed, go Guy! Through formatting issues and problems with different interpretations, different spellings, different, dialects, different roots, all kinds of mess, we are finally getting together something.
I just felt like I should write something about that, since it is what I have put a good deal of work into. Seereer is a difficult language and I should do a much more involved post just on how interesting it is and the different facets and amazing aspects of it.
word of the day- niangeniang: rainbow
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Mold take 2, Bring in the Macaroni
Ok, no, there is no moldy macaroni. So I am not good at titleing.
Ok, so where was I, oh yeah, so trying to pull myself together from terrible day. Eventually it did stop raining and my pants at least dried as I wore them. Eventually night fell and one of my other shirts I had hanging up in my room was dry enough to put on for the evening. I sat with my family while they broke the fast, they asked concerend questions and neighbors shook their head and gave the usual 'the rainy season is very hard'. I slept on a mat on the floor that night, it was hot and humid enough anyway not to want to sleep on a matress even if they wernt so wet and piled with papers.
Anyway, so the next couple days were more of just getting things fixed and getting things dry. I put everything back out again the next morning, cemented part of the floor, gave all my clothes bed sheets and my sister (keeping pants I was wearing and two shirts, one with a huge tear in the back). I cleaned up everything as best I could, the cameras seem rather deceased though. Then over the next couple days I went to reasembling everything better than it was. I hung up my bags and sleeping bag. put the trunks up on tin can legs, put the surviving three boxes with semi drying papers up on cans too under the bed. I fixed up my water filter in a nex brick stand and threw out everything that looked gross or i realized was not important enough to keep.
A couple days after my cleanup began we had a hard rain that didnt last long but dumped a lot of water. When I went out in the afternoon I noticed all the men from the neighboring compounds were all gathered over near the boutique. There was a well there that hadnt been used in a while but, low bricked with crumbling cement. In three-quarters of the way around the ground had split and sunk a couple inches in a neat circle a couple feet out from the well walls. The men were tsking about how much rain there has been this year, something I thought was generally a good thing, but they were saying how full all the wells are and how they hoped that none of the other ones fell in. then with poles they pushed in the top bricks as best they could then filled the full well, it had water maybe two meters down, with dirt and rocks so no one would fall in it and it wouldnt collapse anymore.
I remembered my family had chicked last year and so I was excited that we might have that again. Still sitting with people in the village center, girls started bringing bowl after bowl of lunch and set them for everyone in the neighborhood to eat. I was surprised to see we all were having cow meat with our macaroni and onion sauce and potato chunks . It wasnt bad and I actually was pleasantly full at the end and not wavering on mildly ill.
Dinner that night was just leftovers from dinner, but I was excited the next day to have millet again for dinner. We did indeed have chicken at my house and somehow those leftovers lasted a couple days after.
In the last throws of the rainy season, we have been having really hard rains and really hot nights, with the icing on the cake of tons of mosquitos. They should be on their way out soon though, when the rains end my area is not usually so buggy.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Living in the Mold
Yes, unfortunately that is a pun... all too true...
...or wait, maybe it is not a pun at all since I really just mean it in the moldy sense... oh dear.
Maybe a good title could have been Mold, Maccaroni and Mosquitos...
To start with, the bike trip finished well. It was a good break from site and one of my longest times away from site at one time and it was only a week and a half! The Kolda house was very nice to me and I had a fair amount of food and recovered well from being sore and broken from my trip recovering back to my usual uselessly feeble self.
After a few days to get back on my feet, wash some clothes, realize I had forgotten several items of clothing along my trip, eat my weight in pasta, and listen to some quality music, it was back to my own region. This involved a 4am car up through the Gambia, across river and borders. The garage in Kolda was one of the most frustrating experiences ever, and I wont go into that, we did leave, near around 5, but we left, bike on the roof and all, bloody rediculous thing. I had deliberated riding all the way back home, actually do part of a whole leg of this big curcuit with just biking. But alas, I am not strong enough for that, have never crossed the border before even in a car for a reference, didnt really know the way, and there werent any pcvs to stay with for a good chunk of the way and would have had a long haul all the way to kaolack. Anyway, so I am a wimp, and took a car up to Mbour instead.
Jen was hosting some PC trainees at her apartment so that they could see wha a volunteers life is like and get some good first hand knowledge stuff. I came over to scare them with my village wisdom and my crazy self. They seem good sports, much more understanding and less culture shocked than I recall being all the time. The next day I had a great big package at the post office. I was super excited but had planned to ride back home on my bike. I shoved the box under everything, but only had one rope long enough to go around everything, once in one direction and once in the other. It was a miricle that it didnt explode all over, or throw me to the ground infront of a speeding truck, or fly off the back and get run over on its own. I got back home, back to the village, back to my hut, feeling accomplished and worn out, and ready to get things going again, fasting and all that leading up to Korite. Ready to get school and projects going after a nice little break. Then I walked into my hut...
So yeah, just to clarify- I often hate going on long trips, if for no other reason than for the fact that my backyard is under constant attack from curious goats and chickens tearing down and puncturing the fences, weeds are stubborn, geckos poop all over my room adding to the layer of sand that is sure to blow in through the window and the beetles that are drilling into my roof beams keep leaving absurd amounts of sawdust all over everything. So thats what I expected when I came home. Instead, in the dwindling light of dusk, I saw the backyard looked ok, but the floor of my hut was covered in a weird film, and my bed felt gross. That night I slept on my cot with the mosquito net pulled over. The next morning was the revelation.
To cut to the chase, it must have rained when I was gone. Quite a bit too. If it rains really hard, for a long or short time there is a decent chance that in front of my front door becomes a lake mesa above the larger lake that forms a few meters out from my hut. This water threatens to leak into my room sometimes and so i have cleverly dug a small trench, placed even with where the roof drips down, sloped so that the water can run into my backyard, which is also at a lower level than my hut. In fact, there is no reason water should be up by my hut at all, the ground it is on is higher than whats around it, its just that there is an inconvenient build up in front of my hut making a big mound even bigger around the edges. Anywho, so water falls from the sky, the ground is inundated, it puddles, the lip on both my doors is about another inch and a half above the door jam itself and above my interior floor. The water was enough to spill over this. And keep spilling over this.
From what I figure, with water stains and whatnot, this must have leaked in to capasity. Nearly two inches of water on my floor with enough time to soak into everything or else evaporate before I get back to find my floor covered in a layer of mold.
So, well, that day was fun. First was pulling out the matress and getting at under the bed stuff. I kept a few boxes from care packages and had, well mostly just papers and stuff in them. Nothing super important- notes from training, a bunch of pamphlets and handbooks from the former volunteer, various odds and ends and visual aids for different activities. Also a couple novels. Those all were wet and gross but salvageable, I start laying them out on the matress outside, and start to worry about how one could ever get the floor clean. Other things under the bed- shoes not worn since swear-in if ever in this country, along with a pair of nice-ish leather sandals I got a while ago are growing some funky blue fuzz all over. My canvas messenger bag and army bag are both soaked and fuzzy too. My sleeping bag, dripping wet, doesnt seem moldy though. All that goes out into the sun.
Then I see the box that I use as a nightstand, it is soaked like a sponge and I realize I kept 'valuable things' in it. My passport is all curled and funky but ok. My film camera is home to several forms of life and when I open it, water poars, it literally poars out. The old digital camera my brother gave me before I came to country is no better, somehow also full of water. The camera straps and bags for both have long hairy white mold that makes me want to throw up when I touch it. Thats awsome. Out in the sun too.
Just when I think the worst is that, those are the only things coming in direcct contact with the floor, or in a cardboad box that was. I realize my clothes trunk is dripping. Sure it sits on little runners and is nearly an inch off the ground, but alas, not enough. I fling open the lid as my stomache drops, this seems rather more serious than I had thought. The top layer of clothes seems ok, moist, but ok. then the middle layers, bright, cheerfully colorful mold erupts from all corners and folds. The lowest layer, of course, had the all too likely just-bought-bright-red-fabric. So several items are horribly stained and splotchy. The bottom of the trunk had time to form large rust spots over several items and leave a big permenant rust stain on the floor.
I heave the trunk outside, i start, pulling things out. Maybe, i say to myself, if i just leave them in the sun, it will all be better. I start to mutter to myself, have to stop, sit down, get up, go find my sister. My sister and aunt are cleaning some fish when I walk over. They all asked me last night if the water went in my room. I said my usual responce, as i had always said, and as I then hoped, 'no, its dry, dirty but dry'. Well, that was wrong.
'Water. Water went in my room. Water is in my room. It broke... It broke... My clothes are broken.' I think that is all I get out to them. They look at each other with raised eyebrows before getting up and following me back to my hut. After much tsk-ing, they saw to my clothes. My cot was set up outside, they start piling stuff on it. This pile is washable, this pile we need to go get re-dyed, this pile is ruined so throw it out. Great. Now keep in mind I am still wearing my clothes from yesterday, the clothes I slept in, the clothes I biked in from mbour in. I have some other clothes with me, that I had on the bike trip, not clean but not molded. And that is all my clothes.
Then my sister gets to helping my clean everything else up. We pull the bed frame outside. The water filter and the other trunk and my shoes and everything outside. I put my big basin to the side and throw the things in it that are not messed up- my notes and drawing pad, my spare sheets, my clothes from the bike trip. The dresser is ok, it sits up pretty high so water couldnt get into anything, the wood soaked up a bit and I am not sure about underneath it or behind, but that can wait. We sweep first, and sweep and sweep. Then pull up the flooring sheets and sweep some more. Then we replace the flooring sheets and mop them with a couple of my shirts that fell into the ruined pile. Then she leaves and I start laying out all the papers and notebooks in the sun. The clothes are a big mess I can get to later, but the paper needs to get dry.
Oh, my brothers care package that I got included a random handful of bite-size airheads, I ate all of those that morning. That was nice.
It wasnt really a sunny day, still technically the rainy season of course, but I was too flustered to care except that the books would take forever to dry. With the floor swept and cleaner, I could tell some obvious places that needed cement repairs- the floor had caved in in a couple places and along the wall there is always issues with the cement being helped in crumbling my bugs and wildlife and those all needed to be sealed. Luckily I had some cement left over from a different hut improvement episode so I got to work on that too. The floor needed to dry so I couldnt begin right away and had to do it in stages. Sometime that day, afternoon, its hard to tell cause it is still Ramadan and so no lunch to give reference, The skys darkened and a storm suddenly and violently rolled in. I went to work as fast as I could, trying to prioritize what can get wet and what cannot.
Cameras went in first, then the mattresses rolled around the papers and books. The bike can stay out and my plastic shoes but not the leather ones. The bed frame should come in, and my water filter and canvas bags. The sleeping bag can stay out, its the best wash it will get. The clothes on the cot can stay out, they are already wet and moldy, they cant get worse in a couple hours of rain. The cardboard boxes should come in, as wet as most are, some may be salvagable at least. My pillow and towel and my most recent care package of course need to come in. By this time it is pouring. Like, step outside for a second and you are soaked to the skin. And I have to keep running back and forth, trying not to spash things or drip on the things already inside. I notice the water is rising again at the front door. Great, I forgot to scoop out that trench again so the water will go the other way. As I go out to the back to get my shovel, I realize I forgot my big basin. I run over grab that, dash back inside. I have to pour out more than a leter of water thats already collected at the bottom through all of my other clothes. So, a quick update, now all of my clothes, including what I am wearing and had brought on the bike trip, now all of them are at least soaking wet, if not filthy with dirt or mold or rust stains. This is awesome. Shovel, run back out to the front and start shoveling away. The water is at the lip of the door frame and some is slopping in as I shovel. My younger mom walks by. 'You should not let the water go inside,' she adds helpfully. I glare at her, 'I know!' I yell above the rain dumming down on both of us. I felt bad for yelling at her like that, but seriously, I coulda figured that one out.
When I am done, I go back inside to wait out the storm. I am dripping a large puddle over where the floor was just finally drying. For lack of a better option, i just stand there in the middle of the floor. I pull of my shirt, heavy and wet, and tear a huge hole in the back of it. Sigh. Even better. The bed frame is in the middle of the room on its side. I pull out a book Ive borrowed from the volunteer library, a book on science and spirituality, specifically Buddhism, by the Dalai Lama. I tie my dripping hair back and try to read. Or rather, I try not to go tottally crazy at my utter helplessness.
+As this is turning into the longest journal entry in my life, I should stop here for a breather and make a new one with the wrap up to this pointless story and maybe talk about the Korite and other relevent things that have been going on...
...or wait, maybe it is not a pun at all since I really just mean it in the moldy sense... oh dear.
Maybe a good title could have been Mold, Maccaroni and Mosquitos...
To start with, the bike trip finished well. It was a good break from site and one of my longest times away from site at one time and it was only a week and a half! The Kolda house was very nice to me and I had a fair amount of food and recovered well from being sore and broken from my trip recovering back to my usual uselessly feeble self.
After a few days to get back on my feet, wash some clothes, realize I had forgotten several items of clothing along my trip, eat my weight in pasta, and listen to some quality music, it was back to my own region. This involved a 4am car up through the Gambia, across river and borders. The garage in Kolda was one of the most frustrating experiences ever, and I wont go into that, we did leave, near around 5, but we left, bike on the roof and all, bloody rediculous thing. I had deliberated riding all the way back home, actually do part of a whole leg of this big curcuit with just biking. But alas, I am not strong enough for that, have never crossed the border before even in a car for a reference, didnt really know the way, and there werent any pcvs to stay with for a good chunk of the way and would have had a long haul all the way to kaolack. Anyway, so I am a wimp, and took a car up to Mbour instead.
Jen was hosting some PC trainees at her apartment so that they could see wha a volunteers life is like and get some good first hand knowledge stuff. I came over to scare them with my village wisdom and my crazy self. They seem good sports, much more understanding and less culture shocked than I recall being all the time. The next day I had a great big package at the post office. I was super excited but had planned to ride back home on my bike. I shoved the box under everything, but only had one rope long enough to go around everything, once in one direction and once in the other. It was a miricle that it didnt explode all over, or throw me to the ground infront of a speeding truck, or fly off the back and get run over on its own. I got back home, back to the village, back to my hut, feeling accomplished and worn out, and ready to get things going again, fasting and all that leading up to Korite. Ready to get school and projects going after a nice little break. Then I walked into my hut...
So yeah, just to clarify- I often hate going on long trips, if for no other reason than for the fact that my backyard is under constant attack from curious goats and chickens tearing down and puncturing the fences, weeds are stubborn, geckos poop all over my room adding to the layer of sand that is sure to blow in through the window and the beetles that are drilling into my roof beams keep leaving absurd amounts of sawdust all over everything. So thats what I expected when I came home. Instead, in the dwindling light of dusk, I saw the backyard looked ok, but the floor of my hut was covered in a weird film, and my bed felt gross. That night I slept on my cot with the mosquito net pulled over. The next morning was the revelation.
To cut to the chase, it must have rained when I was gone. Quite a bit too. If it rains really hard, for a long or short time there is a decent chance that in front of my front door becomes a lake mesa above the larger lake that forms a few meters out from my hut. This water threatens to leak into my room sometimes and so i have cleverly dug a small trench, placed even with where the roof drips down, sloped so that the water can run into my backyard, which is also at a lower level than my hut. In fact, there is no reason water should be up by my hut at all, the ground it is on is higher than whats around it, its just that there is an inconvenient build up in front of my hut making a big mound even bigger around the edges. Anywho, so water falls from the sky, the ground is inundated, it puddles, the lip on both my doors is about another inch and a half above the door jam itself and above my interior floor. The water was enough to spill over this. And keep spilling over this.
From what I figure, with water stains and whatnot, this must have leaked in to capasity. Nearly two inches of water on my floor with enough time to soak into everything or else evaporate before I get back to find my floor covered in a layer of mold.
So, well, that day was fun. First was pulling out the matress and getting at under the bed stuff. I kept a few boxes from care packages and had, well mostly just papers and stuff in them. Nothing super important- notes from training, a bunch of pamphlets and handbooks from the former volunteer, various odds and ends and visual aids for different activities. Also a couple novels. Those all were wet and gross but salvageable, I start laying them out on the matress outside, and start to worry about how one could ever get the floor clean. Other things under the bed- shoes not worn since swear-in if ever in this country, along with a pair of nice-ish leather sandals I got a while ago are growing some funky blue fuzz all over. My canvas messenger bag and army bag are both soaked and fuzzy too. My sleeping bag, dripping wet, doesnt seem moldy though. All that goes out into the sun.
Then I see the box that I use as a nightstand, it is soaked like a sponge and I realize I kept 'valuable things' in it. My passport is all curled and funky but ok. My film camera is home to several forms of life and when I open it, water poars, it literally poars out. The old digital camera my brother gave me before I came to country is no better, somehow also full of water. The camera straps and bags for both have long hairy white mold that makes me want to throw up when I touch it. Thats awsome. Out in the sun too.
Just when I think the worst is that, those are the only things coming in direcct contact with the floor, or in a cardboad box that was. I realize my clothes trunk is dripping. Sure it sits on little runners and is nearly an inch off the ground, but alas, not enough. I fling open the lid as my stomache drops, this seems rather more serious than I had thought. The top layer of clothes seems ok, moist, but ok. then the middle layers, bright, cheerfully colorful mold erupts from all corners and folds. The lowest layer, of course, had the all too likely just-bought-bright-red-fabric. So several items are horribly stained and splotchy. The bottom of the trunk had time to form large rust spots over several items and leave a big permenant rust stain on the floor.
I heave the trunk outside, i start, pulling things out. Maybe, i say to myself, if i just leave them in the sun, it will all be better. I start to mutter to myself, have to stop, sit down, get up, go find my sister. My sister and aunt are cleaning some fish when I walk over. They all asked me last night if the water went in my room. I said my usual responce, as i had always said, and as I then hoped, 'no, its dry, dirty but dry'. Well, that was wrong.
'Water. Water went in my room. Water is in my room. It broke... It broke... My clothes are broken.' I think that is all I get out to them. They look at each other with raised eyebrows before getting up and following me back to my hut. After much tsk-ing, they saw to my clothes. My cot was set up outside, they start piling stuff on it. This pile is washable, this pile we need to go get re-dyed, this pile is ruined so throw it out. Great. Now keep in mind I am still wearing my clothes from yesterday, the clothes I slept in, the clothes I biked in from mbour in. I have some other clothes with me, that I had on the bike trip, not clean but not molded. And that is all my clothes.
Then my sister gets to helping my clean everything else up. We pull the bed frame outside. The water filter and the other trunk and my shoes and everything outside. I put my big basin to the side and throw the things in it that are not messed up- my notes and drawing pad, my spare sheets, my clothes from the bike trip. The dresser is ok, it sits up pretty high so water couldnt get into anything, the wood soaked up a bit and I am not sure about underneath it or behind, but that can wait. We sweep first, and sweep and sweep. Then pull up the flooring sheets and sweep some more. Then we replace the flooring sheets and mop them with a couple of my shirts that fell into the ruined pile. Then she leaves and I start laying out all the papers and notebooks in the sun. The clothes are a big mess I can get to later, but the paper needs to get dry.
Oh, my brothers care package that I got included a random handful of bite-size airheads, I ate all of those that morning. That was nice.
It wasnt really a sunny day, still technically the rainy season of course, but I was too flustered to care except that the books would take forever to dry. With the floor swept and cleaner, I could tell some obvious places that needed cement repairs- the floor had caved in in a couple places and along the wall there is always issues with the cement being helped in crumbling my bugs and wildlife and those all needed to be sealed. Luckily I had some cement left over from a different hut improvement episode so I got to work on that too. The floor needed to dry so I couldnt begin right away and had to do it in stages. Sometime that day, afternoon, its hard to tell cause it is still Ramadan and so no lunch to give reference, The skys darkened and a storm suddenly and violently rolled in. I went to work as fast as I could, trying to prioritize what can get wet and what cannot.
Cameras went in first, then the mattresses rolled around the papers and books. The bike can stay out and my plastic shoes but not the leather ones. The bed frame should come in, and my water filter and canvas bags. The sleeping bag can stay out, its the best wash it will get. The clothes on the cot can stay out, they are already wet and moldy, they cant get worse in a couple hours of rain. The cardboard boxes should come in, as wet as most are, some may be salvagable at least. My pillow and towel and my most recent care package of course need to come in. By this time it is pouring. Like, step outside for a second and you are soaked to the skin. And I have to keep running back and forth, trying not to spash things or drip on the things already inside. I notice the water is rising again at the front door. Great, I forgot to scoop out that trench again so the water will go the other way. As I go out to the back to get my shovel, I realize I forgot my big basin. I run over grab that, dash back inside. I have to pour out more than a leter of water thats already collected at the bottom through all of my other clothes. So, a quick update, now all of my clothes, including what I am wearing and had brought on the bike trip, now all of them are at least soaking wet, if not filthy with dirt or mold or rust stains. This is awesome. Shovel, run back out to the front and start shoveling away. The water is at the lip of the door frame and some is slopping in as I shovel. My younger mom walks by. 'You should not let the water go inside,' she adds helpfully. I glare at her, 'I know!' I yell above the rain dumming down on both of us. I felt bad for yelling at her like that, but seriously, I coulda figured that one out.
When I am done, I go back inside to wait out the storm. I am dripping a large puddle over where the floor was just finally drying. For lack of a better option, i just stand there in the middle of the floor. I pull of my shirt, heavy and wet, and tear a huge hole in the back of it. Sigh. Even better. The bed frame is in the middle of the room on its side. I pull out a book Ive borrowed from the volunteer library, a book on science and spirituality, specifically Buddhism, by the Dalai Lama. I tie my dripping hair back and try to read. Or rather, I try not to go tottally crazy at my utter helplessness.
+As this is turning into the longest journal entry in my life, I should stop here for a breather and make a new one with the wrap up to this pointless story and maybe talk about the Korite and other relevent things that have been going on...
Saturday, October 10, 2009
A Thousand Little Stories, take 3
More from those little things that happen to me that make me think- 'i should make a blog entry about that' but then never do-
wells and water-
The rainy season winds down with some nice big storms. Hard rains that last an hour or two or more. Winds that knock down fences. Clouds that roll in and streak past without warning. Lightning that shimmers in the distance and tolls overhead. It was after one such storm, just before noon the skies opened up and soaked everything immediately, but then for good measure kept going for a bit, drizzled for longer, then sun and steam. I was out by our boutique and a group of old men was gathered around staring at an old well that has sat there unused, looking at it like it was full of vipers. Keeping there distance too. Naturally I walked right over and looked too. The ground all around it, about two feet from the concreted well itself, had cracked and sank about a foot. The concrete of the well was buckling and fissures ran down several feet. This well has never been used since I have been there, but this was different. Now our wells dont go that deep in our village anyway, the wate table is close, so 12 or 13 meters is plenty deep. The rains though have swelled all our wells and the ground everywhere is squishy. It was kinda scarry seeing that well like that. They threw rocks into it, then pushed the upper blocks themselves in, then filled the whole deal in with dirt. Before it fell over the rim into the water that was less than two meters down, I spotted the carved initials of the mason and '1987'. Harsh season.
healthy babies-
I occasionally help my aunt with baby weighings around the village. She is helping out the local health hut, collecting data on children under 2 so that peopale can keep thier kids healthy. Aound on one of these trips we come to a compound. My job was to frighten the kids as much as possible by, a-being there, b-hanging a scale from a tree branch, c-greeting them all in a friendly non-threatening manner. Oh and occasionally asking them why they were afraid of me. That usually got them to tears the fastest. I dont really know what it is about the scale that frightens them so much. I think it is just that one kid, usually a baby will cry at it- ok, so it is hanging in a tree, they have to be pulled from their mothers chuckling arms and swing in it a few seconds before I pull them out, bounce them a few times in my arms, maybe toss them into the air and hand them back to their parents. It is kinda frightening. Anyway, so one kid crys and then that gets more of them going, thinking surely it must have electroshocks or I will throw geckos at them or something. Then the older kids, the four five and six year olds, get the idea that making the younger ones cry is actually the funnest game in the whole wide world. They taunt them, push and pull them for maximum tear-age. Those kids are great, really help me make friends... Anyway, so on this day we were at a big compound but only a few people were there. The first few babies were fine, grumbly, confused, but fine. Then with only two to go, one busrts into a fit. We get her weighed and she hides behind her mom after, afraid to look at my face. My big scary toubab face. Then the lat girl. She is clutching her moms leg, tears roll down her face. I crouch in front of her, make soft cooing noises, put the harness-thingy on the ground like a pair of ants she could step into. Basically I pull out my whole arsenal of scary tactics I have learned from all my classic horror films where the boogey man goes around weighing kids and leaving them otherwise alone. I reach for her hands to urge her forward, she is hit by a hard sob, leans slightly forward and throws up at her feet. O....K... The mom appologizes, it didnt get on me, and I help wash off the harness straps. After that she is quieter, moaning, but we weigh her quietly and leave without any other incident. Look at me go, keeping all the kids in my village healthy and happy...
proof of integration?-
So a couple weeks ago I came into Mbour and bought a couple plastic chairs for my family. The ones they have are breaking, legs falling off and whatnot, as would be expected in a house of so many kids and very few forms of entertainment. My dad had asked me about chairs months ago, but like most things my parents insist I buy early on, I avoided it on principal. One of my lovely passive aggresive strategies to show that all toubabs are not money fountains. Anyway, I do ease up sometimes. So I bought these two chairs and I am a couple kms from the garage, but I dont do public transport, also on principal, so I do what any normal Senegalese person would do, put them on my head and started walking. It occured to me, sometime soon, after a couple blocks, that I surely looked rediculous. But the Senegalese do carry lots of things on thier heads-buckets, bags, rice sacks, matresses, firewood, haystacks. In my own village I carry water on my head from the well everyday, usually several times a day in both afternoon and morning. And I sometimes carry dirt too, and most recently, over the course of several weeks, a few hundred trees in small sacks. Anyway, so I was hyper aware of people walking through town back to the busses that would take me home. I was sure everyone must surely want to stare at me. The wierd thing though was that I felt like I got less stares, and less people called out 'toubab' than usual. It was strange when i expected it so much. Actually only one little girl muttered 'toubab' as I walked past that I noticed, surely some kind of distance record in Mbour. It may be that people dont really stare or yell at me that much usually but cause I was looking for it so much more and noticed so many people just going about their business that it seemed odd. Either way, I mark it as a victory for community integration.
proof of integration?-
So a couple weeks ago I came into Mbour and bought a couple plastic chairs for my family. The ones they have are breaking, legs falling off and whatnot, as would be expected in a house of so many kids and very few forms of entertainment. My dad had asked me about chairs months ago, but like most things my parents insist I buy early on, I avoided it on principal. One of my lovely passive aggresive strategies to show that all toubabs are not money fountains. Anyway, I do ease up sometimes. So I bought these two chairs and I am a couple kms from the garage, but I dont do public transport, also on principal, so I do what any normal Senegalese person would do, put them on my head and started walking. It occured to me, sometime soon, after a couple blocks, that I surely looked rediculous. But the Senegalese do carry lots of things on thier heads-buckets, bags, rice sacks, matresses, firewood, haystacks. In my own village I carry water on my head from the well everyday, usually several times a day in both afternoon and morning. And I sometimes carry dirt too, and most recently, over the course of several weeks, a few hundred trees in small sacks. Anyway, so I was hyper aware of people walking through town back to the busses that would take me home. I was sure everyone must surely want to stare at me. The wierd thing though was that I felt like I got less stares, and less people called out 'toubab' than usual. It was strange when i expected it so much. Actually only one little girl muttered 'toubab' as I walked past that I noticed, surely some kind of distance record in Mbour. It may be that people dont really stare or yell at me that much usually but cause I was looking for it so much more and noticed so many people just going about their business that it seemed odd. Either way, I mark it as a victory for community integration.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Bike-venture in Pulaar-Country
Howdy from Kolda! I just finished the main biking section of my grand bike-venture. Well, let me back up,
So after my long stint in Dakar for English camp, I had a nice long three weeks in the village. It was probably my most solidly productive consecutive days so far in my service, but also the most solidly frustrating and difficult. Mostly I was simply outplanting. This process is the final step in my rainy season reforestation project, that generally sounds a whole lot cooler than it really is. So months ago, April and May I think, I filled plastic tree sacks, put them in my backyard, put tree seeds in them and watered them. And watered them. Until the rains came, then let the sky do most of that work. But then weeded them, and weeded some more. And now, of the nearly 450 sacks I have, nearly 400 have good pretty trees, and as of now 315 have been planted out in peoples fields, gardens and compounds. Most of them were mango and cashew trees, but there were also species of acacia and moringa and papaya and lemon and several other species both local and foriegn.
I decided to hadle my outplanting differently than most volunteers I have talked to. From most of them, no really from all of them that I have heard have had problems in this area, it is always- oh, i gave 20 out to some family and they didnt plant them and they died, or goats ate them cause they were unprotected, or the family didnt know to water them, or people put them in bad locations, or children played with them and pulled them up, and on and on. If I have gone this far with them, I am not just going to hurl out these dozens of trees at random people, cross my fingers and check up on them in a month or two. No dice.
I decided I would go and actually physically plant all of my trees with the farmer or family that I was giving it to. In practice, this was exhausting and difficult, but I have good hopes now for a good portion of my trees. The vast majority were planted in peoples already protected gardens, something that is unique to my area I believe as not many other volunteers have villages with anywhere near the number of gardens as we have. So at least a high percentage of those will at least not be eaten or pulled up and have the potential to be watered and weeded and looked after like trees in a field wouldnt get. Some were also put in compounds with different kinds of protection and I have mixed feelings on most of these (one of the nicest tree protections was my neighbors stick and rice sack construction around a papaya tree, he un pinned a sack to water it, forgot to put it back on, three days after planting the tree was bitten off less than a foot off the ground, stupid goats). People wanted mangos for shade trees and and moringa and papaya for food.
The stressful frustrating parts came about for a variety of reasons. Mostly it was little things that just built up over a day, sometimes it was something big and rediculous. Often it was simply the rain. Yes, i know, rainy season, right? Yeah, that it is, but then it only needs to be dry for an afternoon and semi dry that morning for a day to be successful. But there was a week where it would just consistently rain all afternoon or be so flooded from a mornings downpour that the ground is just muddy water and nothing can be planted. So it was when one afternoon I had about 20 trees to plant and couldnt, the next day i had scheduled another 20 but had to push those back to for rain, then I eventually had a day where i told a dozen different people we could get nearly 80 trees done but then of course, I cant always find everyone, people go to the market in the afternoon, do silly things like attend funerals in other villages, or simply they are not to be found. Fun days.
Anywho, i could talk forever on this, but would probably bore myself to tears, so moving on.
After this fun filled three weeks and nearly all of my mango and cashew trees are out. I decided a little time away from site was in order. I have been really interested for a while in going to the south. The south-central area of Senegal, the part below the Gambia, I have heard is the prettiest part of the country and this time of year it is green and rainy and mosquito-y and great. Also, from my 4th of July exploits, I have let myself believe that I am an acually competent biker and could survive a multi-100km journey. So I decided to bike to the south, well, not really, let me explain-
The first couple days are just getting out of my region. I biked from my village east to Fatick, spent the night with SED PCV there, Daniel you are awesome, then went to Kaolack and stayed at the PC regional transit house. This whole part is just shy of about 100km all together. Now, I had hopes of making this an all biking, all the time, kill myself or die trying kind of adventure, but sadly that was just not feasible. So I had to skip over 175km, most of the way east to Tambacounda where i stayed in a little village 11km off the main road. This was my first toe into Pulaar country. The people are so nice, the food is so good, but then again, they did call me slave a lot for being Seereer, ah well... Then it was on to Tamba itself, eastern Senegal, like past the tip of the Gambia. That was a long day in the sun, left Ericka's village at about 9am didnt get to Tamba PC house till 630. Just a little sunburned and starving. After that night I went south over 100km to another PCVs site well off the main road. Amber introduced me to the fine snack of Pulaar roasted corn and more good food than i thought possible. After that I went south a little ways more, only 20 or 30km i think, and stayed in the booming metropolis that is Kounkane. Ok, maybe its not that booming, but it is a road town with electricity. Dorothy showed me just how nice a hut can be with just simple imporvements, like doors that open and close properly, and a roof that doesnt leak. Magic. The next day I went a very short 5km to another Pulaar site where the gods of rain decided i had biked dry far too long and had a good time with me on a muddy path. Kelly has a new roof though and a dog that makes one forget their troubles. Relaxing. My final day of biking was about a 100km west into the city of Kolda itself. This ride felt very fast and I surprised myself by not dying on it. I think those easy days beforehand really helped.
Now I am in Kolda! Sore-er than I have ever been i think, butt hurts, cant turn my head that well, back is killing me, sunburned and skin infections and fungus, oh fun! But I am here. And here they have more magical things, like boutiques with eggs and canned chicken and pasta. They have electricity and running water. They have wifi in the PC house! So life is good.
I head back up on Monday. Through the Gambia and all too! I hear it should be interesting. We are supposed to have no problems cause we are officialy working in Senegal and Senegalese citizens get through free. But well, this is Africa and all. But there are border people that i would rather not bribe, a ferry that i would rather not sink and my stuff i would rather not lose after getting off said ferry and back to our car. But well, I will let yall know how that turns out. I hear right before the ferry there are ladies selling chicken sandwitches too!
Oh, and there will be pictures of bike travel when i get around to a computer and internet that can handle them...
So after my long stint in Dakar for English camp, I had a nice long three weeks in the village. It was probably my most solidly productive consecutive days so far in my service, but also the most solidly frustrating and difficult. Mostly I was simply outplanting. This process is the final step in my rainy season reforestation project, that generally sounds a whole lot cooler than it really is. So months ago, April and May I think, I filled plastic tree sacks, put them in my backyard, put tree seeds in them and watered them. And watered them. Until the rains came, then let the sky do most of that work. But then weeded them, and weeded some more. And now, of the nearly 450 sacks I have, nearly 400 have good pretty trees, and as of now 315 have been planted out in peoples fields, gardens and compounds. Most of them were mango and cashew trees, but there were also species of acacia and moringa and papaya and lemon and several other species both local and foriegn.
I decided to hadle my outplanting differently than most volunteers I have talked to. From most of them, no really from all of them that I have heard have had problems in this area, it is always- oh, i gave 20 out to some family and they didnt plant them and they died, or goats ate them cause they were unprotected, or the family didnt know to water them, or people put them in bad locations, or children played with them and pulled them up, and on and on. If I have gone this far with them, I am not just going to hurl out these dozens of trees at random people, cross my fingers and check up on them in a month or two. No dice.
I decided I would go and actually physically plant all of my trees with the farmer or family that I was giving it to. In practice, this was exhausting and difficult, but I have good hopes now for a good portion of my trees. The vast majority were planted in peoples already protected gardens, something that is unique to my area I believe as not many other volunteers have villages with anywhere near the number of gardens as we have. So at least a high percentage of those will at least not be eaten or pulled up and have the potential to be watered and weeded and looked after like trees in a field wouldnt get. Some were also put in compounds with different kinds of protection and I have mixed feelings on most of these (one of the nicest tree protections was my neighbors stick and rice sack construction around a papaya tree, he un pinned a sack to water it, forgot to put it back on, three days after planting the tree was bitten off less than a foot off the ground, stupid goats). People wanted mangos for shade trees and and moringa and papaya for food.
The stressful frustrating parts came about for a variety of reasons. Mostly it was little things that just built up over a day, sometimes it was something big and rediculous. Often it was simply the rain. Yes, i know, rainy season, right? Yeah, that it is, but then it only needs to be dry for an afternoon and semi dry that morning for a day to be successful. But there was a week where it would just consistently rain all afternoon or be so flooded from a mornings downpour that the ground is just muddy water and nothing can be planted. So it was when one afternoon I had about 20 trees to plant and couldnt, the next day i had scheduled another 20 but had to push those back to for rain, then I eventually had a day where i told a dozen different people we could get nearly 80 trees done but then of course, I cant always find everyone, people go to the market in the afternoon, do silly things like attend funerals in other villages, or simply they are not to be found. Fun days.
Anywho, i could talk forever on this, but would probably bore myself to tears, so moving on.
After this fun filled three weeks and nearly all of my mango and cashew trees are out. I decided a little time away from site was in order. I have been really interested for a while in going to the south. The south-central area of Senegal, the part below the Gambia, I have heard is the prettiest part of the country and this time of year it is green and rainy and mosquito-y and great. Also, from my 4th of July exploits, I have let myself believe that I am an acually competent biker and could survive a multi-100km journey. So I decided to bike to the south, well, not really, let me explain-
The first couple days are just getting out of my region. I biked from my village east to Fatick, spent the night with SED PCV there, Daniel you are awesome, then went to Kaolack and stayed at the PC regional transit house. This whole part is just shy of about 100km all together. Now, I had hopes of making this an all biking, all the time, kill myself or die trying kind of adventure, but sadly that was just not feasible. So I had to skip over 175km, most of the way east to Tambacounda where i stayed in a little village 11km off the main road. This was my first toe into Pulaar country. The people are so nice, the food is so good, but then again, they did call me slave a lot for being Seereer, ah well... Then it was on to Tamba itself, eastern Senegal, like past the tip of the Gambia. That was a long day in the sun, left Ericka's village at about 9am didnt get to Tamba PC house till 630. Just a little sunburned and starving. After that night I went south over 100km to another PCVs site well off the main road. Amber introduced me to the fine snack of Pulaar roasted corn and more good food than i thought possible. After that I went south a little ways more, only 20 or 30km i think, and stayed in the booming metropolis that is Kounkane. Ok, maybe its not that booming, but it is a road town with electricity. Dorothy showed me just how nice a hut can be with just simple imporvements, like doors that open and close properly, and a roof that doesnt leak. Magic. The next day I went a very short 5km to another Pulaar site where the gods of rain decided i had biked dry far too long and had a good time with me on a muddy path. Kelly has a new roof though and a dog that makes one forget their troubles. Relaxing. My final day of biking was about a 100km west into the city of Kolda itself. This ride felt very fast and I surprised myself by not dying on it. I think those easy days beforehand really helped.
Now I am in Kolda! Sore-er than I have ever been i think, butt hurts, cant turn my head that well, back is killing me, sunburned and skin infections and fungus, oh fun! But I am here. And here they have more magical things, like boutiques with eggs and canned chicken and pasta. They have electricity and running water. They have wifi in the PC house! So life is good.
I head back up on Monday. Through the Gambia and all too! I hear it should be interesting. We are supposed to have no problems cause we are officialy working in Senegal and Senegalese citizens get through free. But well, this is Africa and all. But there are border people that i would rather not bribe, a ferry that i would rather not sink and my stuff i would rather not lose after getting off said ferry and back to our car. But well, I will let yall know how that turns out. I hear right before the ferry there are ladies selling chicken sandwitches too!
Oh, and there will be pictures of bike travel when i get around to a computer and internet that can handle them...
Saturday, August 8, 2009
English Camp
So this week I was in Dakar for English camp. It was with this really neat program that puts teams of PCVs in different highschools to run whatever kind of English program we can think of for four hours a day for five days.
Our big group had a big school. Actually it was, or so they said, the largest lycee in Senegal. I feel like someone said eight or nine thousand students. It had a big campus. So twelve of us volunteers had about 140 students for the week. We all called them 'kids' but they were not that far from our age, most around 19 and 20. Most of them spoke at least marginally understandable english, but they all wanted to hear moer native speakers teaching them because getting the same accented language all the time from one or two people will stunt your understanding of it if you try to use it in a real scenario.
Anyway, so we were there to do whatever we could think of that would be fun and educational. Over the course of the week we had small group discussions, we played interactive games in the class room, we played sports and games outside including a rediculous game we dubbed 'frizball' and kickball. We also had an olympics day where the five main events were a three-legged race, a frizbee toss game, a ball toss game, a sack race and a tournament of tug of war. We talked about american culture vs senegalese culture, politics and even had some really interesting gender roles discussions. The last day we had them put on gender roles plays and we had a little party with food and drink that more or less fell apart under poor organization and too few food with too many kids.
All in all though it was an amazing week. It was exhausting, it was difficult, I learned a lot, and it was really fun, definetly worth it and apt for my possible future considerations that may be discussed later. I took some pictures, but others took more I know, i just dont know how to find where they are now. But my pictures will be up at some point, along with stuff from rainy season at site.
Our big group had a big school. Actually it was, or so they said, the largest lycee in Senegal. I feel like someone said eight or nine thousand students. It had a big campus. So twelve of us volunteers had about 140 students for the week. We all called them 'kids' but they were not that far from our age, most around 19 and 20. Most of them spoke at least marginally understandable english, but they all wanted to hear moer native speakers teaching them because getting the same accented language all the time from one or two people will stunt your understanding of it if you try to use it in a real scenario.
Anyway, so we were there to do whatever we could think of that would be fun and educational. Over the course of the week we had small group discussions, we played interactive games in the class room, we played sports and games outside including a rediculous game we dubbed 'frizball' and kickball. We also had an olympics day where the five main events were a three-legged race, a frizbee toss game, a ball toss game, a sack race and a tournament of tug of war. We talked about american culture vs senegalese culture, politics and even had some really interesting gender roles discussions. The last day we had them put on gender roles plays and we had a little party with food and drink that more or less fell apart under poor organization and too few food with too many kids.
All in all though it was an amazing week. It was exhausting, it was difficult, I learned a lot, and it was really fun, definetly worth it and apt for my possible future considerations that may be discussed later. I took some pictures, but others took more I know, i just dont know how to find where they are now. But my pictures will be up at some point, along with stuff from rainy season at site.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Another 4th of July
This meant-
-amazing bike mis-adventures,
-breaking crosscountry speed records,
-more warthog sandwhiches than advisable,
-more amazing bike adventures and through a mighty storm,
-waterfall of wonder in an unexpected mountainous tropical wonderland,
-a rather swift and less adventurous bike trip,
-a 4th 4km of sweaty fun,
-fruit salad = slave labor,
-3m of red fabric = awesome,
-socializing = meat all gone by the time you get up to get it,
-sleepy sore wet exhausted trip back to Louly.
There are a few pictures to be put up, Jared has put up more better ones including a video of said mighty storm
There are a few pictures to be put up, Jared has put up more better ones including a video of said mighty storm
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
A Thousand and Five Little Stories
Refoona onjac. So recently, on a few occasions, I have been getting into conversations about 'when you were young', with my old men friends in the village. They say some of the most amazing things. They talk of animals- various types of antelope and giraffe, on hunting big cats, the commoness of monkeys, jackals and hyennas. They talk about the landscape difference- the abundance of trees in the village, the different kinds of trees that they have not seen for years. And so many other really intersting things- modes of transportation, how they dug wells, the names of places before the French decided that they needed a different name, and how life was so much different, often so much harder without things like plough animals, reliable shoes, cement. I really want to learn so much more, I want to ask about food and religion, and other village history in general, the people the language. So facinating, so much lost culture.
Horse. Next door we had a horse born about a month ago now. It is so cute. They even had a baptism for it, just for any ole excuse to sit around for a day and eat and drink tea. They named it Xemes, cause it was born on a Thursday, from the Seereer-ized arabic word, Arxemes. I just thought that that was interesting, he is cute.
Story time. I also have had other random conversations with the old men. This included the fact that America in fact lies on the other side of the ocean. They knew that man has walked around on the moon, this is because, they say, Americans are hard headed and just want to know and do everything that can be known and done. Americans canot walk on the sun because they would catch on fire. I also think I did a decent job explaining, quite vaguly and with many examples, the US economic crisis. Though, its not like i really have any idea of what is going on...
More story time. My brothers and sisters were sitting around one night after dinner talking. We stayed up way late with them telling jokes and stories and me teaching them english and reading a textbook by flashlight. I also translated 'the boy who cried wolf' story. They thought my rendition was hilarious and said that teasing people was bad. True.
Types. Walking around the village last week I came across a baobab with a ceramic bowl half buried next to it. It was spontaneously explained to me that this was a sacrifcing deal, where, paticularly if you are sick for example, you can be brought here, a sacrifice is made of a chicken, goat, or millet is offered, or sour milk, and you will get better. In asking about this i stumbled upon an odd fact that Seereers have types. These types are not exactly a religion, not exactly a class, not exactly anything and i am not really sure at this point what the point is. Fathers pass their type to their sons, so I am a Soos, like my host father. Mothers pass their types to their daughters. The women who I was with named off nearly a dozen different types, some that we dont have in the village, most that we do. Everyone in my family that can be different seems to be, moms, aunt, both grandmothers and father are all different. I suppose it must be a kind of symbolic tribe, but then i dont know why it would be so diffused when all other aspects of Seereers are so segregated. Definitly need to ask more questions.
Horse. Next door we had a horse born about a month ago now. It is so cute. They even had a baptism for it, just for any ole excuse to sit around for a day and eat and drink tea. They named it Xemes, cause it was born on a Thursday, from the Seereer-ized arabic word, Arxemes. I just thought that that was interesting, he is cute.
Story time. I also have had other random conversations with the old men. This included the fact that America in fact lies on the other side of the ocean. They knew that man has walked around on the moon, this is because, they say, Americans are hard headed and just want to know and do everything that can be known and done. Americans canot walk on the sun because they would catch on fire. I also think I did a decent job explaining, quite vaguly and with many examples, the US economic crisis. Though, its not like i really have any idea of what is going on...
More story time. My brothers and sisters were sitting around one night after dinner talking. We stayed up way late with them telling jokes and stories and me teaching them english and reading a textbook by flashlight. I also translated 'the boy who cried wolf' story. They thought my rendition was hilarious and said that teasing people was bad. True.
Types. Walking around the village last week I came across a baobab with a ceramic bowl half buried next to it. It was spontaneously explained to me that this was a sacrifcing deal, where, paticularly if you are sick for example, you can be brought here, a sacrifice is made of a chicken, goat, or millet is offered, or sour milk, and you will get better. In asking about this i stumbled upon an odd fact that Seereers have types. These types are not exactly a religion, not exactly a class, not exactly anything and i am not really sure at this point what the point is. Fathers pass their type to their sons, so I am a Soos, like my host father. Mothers pass their types to their daughters. The women who I was with named off nearly a dozen different types, some that we dont have in the village, most that we do. Everyone in my family that can be different seems to be, moms, aunt, both grandmothers and father are all different. I suppose it must be a kind of symbolic tribe, but then i dont know why it would be so diffused when all other aspects of Seereers are so segregated. Definitly need to ask more questions.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
On Unproductivity
So right now, most everything that I have started or been working on has now imploded or a the least is in a holding pattern.
Some of this is a natural course of things: The school year ended in the way that school years here do, just sorta fizzled out without to much clear understanding of when or how till it was done. This means an actual end to the non actual work i was doing with the teachers there. Also this marks the end of any hope of getting my environmental club together til next year, though really all we were 'doing' was the school tree nursery.
That was were my biggest frustrations and most stressful interactions occured in the past couple months. Long story short, squirrels eat sprouts, especially lemon orange and papaya; kids are super impatient about growing things themselves and would rather rip sprouted seeds from the ground in effort to prove to me that they are not sprouting, despite my imploring them not to do this; if i am away from the garden, the gate will be left open; if i am away from site, the gate will be broken; if the gate is left open or broken, goats eat everything; some kids see order and take time and energy to push it into chaos; gardens make me insane.
My trash management trial fell more or less apart. Or at least the burn pit aspect of it. I will need to dig a new pit, dig it into harder clay, instruct people better as what to put in it, and generally get the local kids to work with me not against me. I did bury the glass and batteries. The location was ok, but otherwise, not super happy about it. Saved the metal and looking into a recycling pickup program. We have a ways to go before compost can enter into things.
Finally, the big news, the money came for my project. We all talked in the village and decided that it was clear we needed to wait 'boo ndiig ne a wata', for when the rains end. The one caveat to the whole deal is something that may or may not present itself as a big deal. It turns out my research was good for our budget except for in one critical area that i didnt really give much thought to, the currency conversion. I figured they would just give me the amount i asked for in local currency with the prices i have for things detailed in local currency. They however filled and sent the amount in dollars. This would be ok if the dollar hadent taken a massive nose-dive right after i sent in my proposal. Bottom line is i got ninety percent of what i asked for.
In all likelyhood this is not fatal. I am hoping that i can even just put up whatever money is needed out of the living allowance that the PC gives us each quarter. If there is any further issues about this i will let yall know but i am thinking that this may not be so terrible, i tried to estimate a little high in case things went awry, but getting that much less could be something. I will keep yall posted.
Anywho, somehting that is going well, our Seereer dictionary is finally in version one! I am super excited to have somehting in progress.
I have a million other things to write about, three other entries that i havent finished and a camera full of pictures i need to put up. Alas this month is not the one for me, maybe August i will have the time...
Some of this is a natural course of things: The school year ended in the way that school years here do, just sorta fizzled out without to much clear understanding of when or how till it was done. This means an actual end to the non actual work i was doing with the teachers there. Also this marks the end of any hope of getting my environmental club together til next year, though really all we were 'doing' was the school tree nursery.
That was were my biggest frustrations and most stressful interactions occured in the past couple months. Long story short, squirrels eat sprouts, especially lemon orange and papaya; kids are super impatient about growing things themselves and would rather rip sprouted seeds from the ground in effort to prove to me that they are not sprouting, despite my imploring them not to do this; if i am away from the garden, the gate will be left open; if i am away from site, the gate will be broken; if the gate is left open or broken, goats eat everything; some kids see order and take time and energy to push it into chaos; gardens make me insane.
My trash management trial fell more or less apart. Or at least the burn pit aspect of it. I will need to dig a new pit, dig it into harder clay, instruct people better as what to put in it, and generally get the local kids to work with me not against me. I did bury the glass and batteries. The location was ok, but otherwise, not super happy about it. Saved the metal and looking into a recycling pickup program. We have a ways to go before compost can enter into things.
Finally, the big news, the money came for my project. We all talked in the village and decided that it was clear we needed to wait 'boo ndiig ne a wata', for when the rains end. The one caveat to the whole deal is something that may or may not present itself as a big deal. It turns out my research was good for our budget except for in one critical area that i didnt really give much thought to, the currency conversion. I figured they would just give me the amount i asked for in local currency with the prices i have for things detailed in local currency. They however filled and sent the amount in dollars. This would be ok if the dollar hadent taken a massive nose-dive right after i sent in my proposal. Bottom line is i got ninety percent of what i asked for.
In all likelyhood this is not fatal. I am hoping that i can even just put up whatever money is needed out of the living allowance that the PC gives us each quarter. If there is any further issues about this i will let yall know but i am thinking that this may not be so terrible, i tried to estimate a little high in case things went awry, but getting that much less could be something. I will keep yall posted.
Anywho, somehting that is going well, our Seereer dictionary is finally in version one! I am super excited to have somehting in progress.
I have a million other things to write about, three other entries that i havent finished and a camera full of pictures i need to put up. Alas this month is not the one for me, maybe August i will have the time...
Monday, June 29, 2009
Urban Gardens, Bed Nets and Vitamin A
So lots of little things and big things happened this month. All in all, it was an exausting month, though I cant claim i was real productive or anything at any point.
A few weeks ago i had a wwoof volunteer come and stay at my house for nearly a week. She was working with the organic farmer who lives in Dakar but owns a compound on the coast near me and a large garden in my village. She worked everyday spreading good 'compost-esque' material over the relatively rather dry and nutrient deficient soil in his plot of garden space. It was interesting haveing a guest for that long though i ended up just talking and talking and talking to her about everything that was going on with me and that I was planning. Prolly not the most interesting stuff ever, but i find when i am around english speakers and given half an opportunity i will just babble on and on about anything.
A few days after that, and after some other Seereer related adventures, another young woman appears at my house, this time working with a micro-finance NGO. It was really interesting getting a new perspective on things, things going on in my very village that i didnt really totally understand. It is an interesting endeavor, making loans for various projects and hoping against hope for success. But then that wasnt half as interesting as the dinner we had her second and last night at my house, a big ole fold of cow skin, with peanut sauce over couscous. Not the best thing I have ever eaten. One of the strangest, if not the strangest thing i have ever actually eaten. It was like a giant skinned ankle and tasted less chewy but no better than sheep stomache.
The next week I felt like I was actually doing something. What that something was, not so clear, but I was at least around when things were being done, so that some one could easily mistake me for having a hand in what was going on. I did two days in Mbour helping jen with an urban agriculture training. Well, helping is a strong word, I took pictures, which will be up soon, and provided moral support to the nearly entirely wolof presentation. It was of course really interesting though. We (jen me and a next closest volunteer up the coast, Ankith,) gave instruction on how garden plants grow, what they need, how they grow best, what to plant, how to plant them and so on. We also showed how one can plant in a variety of containers given that in urban areas, space is usually on the premium and soil quality is at the minimum. We cut open tires to plant in a Jen's garden demonstrates other amazing containers, from rice sacks to bottles, buckets and tables. In the end, I am assigned to help out one of the new gardeners, a Seereer speaker that lives out near me, so I will be giving gardening advice and all that whenever she needs it.
Later that same week then I randomly was asked to help out i a mosquito net distribution in my area. It was really cool but i didnt really help anything in the slightest except provide some entertainment for the health workers and garner interest (cause just what is that toubab doing in our village, anyway?) with locals at each of the nearby health huts. Basically there were a huge number of mosquito nets given out for free, based on the number of children in the household. First, health workers went around, talked to people and gave out various doses of vitamin A for kids under 5, then they got coupons to come to the health hut to get thier bed nets. I went around with them talking to families and giving out the vitamin things in the slightly larger Louly, two Louly's over from me. For some reason I had no idea the dispansaire there was so nice and taken care of, doctors, med students, a nurse from spain, tiled floors and clean rooms, it was amazing. I also spent much more time on the supervising team, going from health hut to health hut in different villages, maybe seven or eight in all, checking on their progress, inventorying supplies, refilling and redistributing vitamin a pills and bed nets. It was amazing seeing something so well organized and for such good purpose going on in my very area, with my very neighbors. My village wasn't exactly part of it. First, because we have no health hut so we go to the one one Louly in the other direction. But also, most folks in my village (or as they say, everybody) has a mosquito net. NGOs like to come and throw them at school children and sprinkle them out for various events. And so my village was one of the sources of help and not part of the recieving population for the most part.
Also that week, I went out to a Seereer town east of me with jen. Seh had to give seeds out to this farmer that she knows there but somehow we keep missing and failing to give seeds to. We had a confusing time not getting where we wanted to go and eventually dropped them off with some nice guy, got free fantas, and my month of good work was at an end.
A few days after that, and after some other Seereer related adventures, another young woman appears at my house, this time working with a micro-finance NGO. It was really interesting getting a new perspective on things, things going on in my very village that i didnt really totally understand. It is an interesting endeavor, making loans for various projects and hoping against hope for success. But then that wasnt half as interesting as the dinner we had her second and last night at my house, a big ole fold of cow skin, with peanut sauce over couscous. Not the best thing I have ever eaten. One of the strangest, if not the strangest thing i have ever actually eaten. It was like a giant skinned ankle and tasted less chewy but no better than sheep stomache.
The next week I felt like I was actually doing something. What that something was, not so clear, but I was at least around when things were being done, so that some one could easily mistake me for having a hand in what was going on. I did two days in Mbour helping jen with an urban agriculture training. Well, helping is a strong word, I took pictures, which will be up soon, and provided moral support to the nearly entirely wolof presentation. It was of course really interesting though. We (jen me and a next closest volunteer up the coast, Ankith,) gave instruction on how garden plants grow, what they need, how they grow best, what to plant, how to plant them and so on. We also showed how one can plant in a variety of containers given that in urban areas, space is usually on the premium and soil quality is at the minimum. We cut open tires to plant in a Jen's garden demonstrates other amazing containers, from rice sacks to bottles, buckets and tables. In the end, I am assigned to help out one of the new gardeners, a Seereer speaker that lives out near me, so I will be giving gardening advice and all that whenever she needs it.
Later that same week then I randomly was asked to help out i a mosquito net distribution in my area. It was really cool but i didnt really help anything in the slightest except provide some entertainment for the health workers and garner interest (cause just what is that toubab doing in our village, anyway?) with locals at each of the nearby health huts. Basically there were a huge number of mosquito nets given out for free, based on the number of children in the household. First, health workers went around, talked to people and gave out various doses of vitamin A for kids under 5, then they got coupons to come to the health hut to get thier bed nets. I went around with them talking to families and giving out the vitamin things in the slightly larger Louly, two Louly's over from me. For some reason I had no idea the dispansaire there was so nice and taken care of, doctors, med students, a nurse from spain, tiled floors and clean rooms, it was amazing. I also spent much more time on the supervising team, going from health hut to health hut in different villages, maybe seven or eight in all, checking on their progress, inventorying supplies, refilling and redistributing vitamin a pills and bed nets. It was amazing seeing something so well organized and for such good purpose going on in my very area, with my very neighbors. My village wasn't exactly part of it. First, because we have no health hut so we go to the one one Louly in the other direction. But also, most folks in my village (or as they say, everybody) has a mosquito net. NGOs like to come and throw them at school children and sprinkle them out for various events. And so my village was one of the sources of help and not part of the recieving population for the most part.
Also that week, I went out to a Seereer town east of me with jen. Seh had to give seeds out to this farmer that she knows there but somehow we keep missing and failing to give seeds to. We had a confusing time not getting where we wanted to go and eventually dropped them off with some nice guy, got free fantas, and my month of good work was at an end.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
A Thousand Little Stories
There are always about a million things that go on in my village that I see everyday and think, 'wow, i could write a whole blog just about that'. But of course, something bigger or better jumps in the way as i sit down to write and it is lost to time. I thought itd be nice to make a quick pass over some of the many things that have happened in the past days and weeks, (even months at this point) that I have not (and probably will not) otherwise mention.
Guitar guy. Ok, first one not in my village. In Dakar actually. Everytime I go to the big long main market in Dakar where lots of tourists walk up and down I get hassled by the same guy. Not sure if he recognises me or just always thinks i am interested for some reason, but i always see him. Down that street you can get things from wood carvings to glass paintings, sunglasses to scarfs, dresses to running shoes, phones and senegalese fabric, its all there. But this always finds me when market shopping is the last thing on my mind. I am headed somewhere or coming back from a meeting or somethign and he follows me. He holds out a couple small senegalese musical instruments. Like little guitars with big round bodies. He starts by telling me some outrageous price twenty, twenty-five mille. I half laugh at his hopeless attempt and walk away and of course then he follows me. I am not even barganing, not saying any price, just 'next time, next time, i have no money now'. And he just keeps lowering it, and lowering it. I am not even talking to him, not looking at him, not encouraging him or anything, I just keep walking. And always, eventually, often right before i about to turn down a side street or go in somewhere, he says 'ok one mille.' And always this makes me hesitate. I mean, they are not the best looking things in the world and they would probably fall apart with more than a small amount of abuse. But at the same time, they arent too bad, a nice little souvenir that could just sit on a mantle somewhere or something. And for two dollars! This always makes me turn and look at him, give a long frowning glance to his little guitars, before turning and going on my way. 'Next time,' I say, 'next time.'
Grat mephloquine dreams. So I have had several good memorable ones, here are a few. One was super dark, german expressionistic - lightning, huge manor on a high craggy plateau, bats, the whole deal. Demon vampire bad guy, me and nerdy sidekick had to subdue him, had him tied to a table but before we could put him out cast a spell that blew up the house and leveled the terrain. Thrilling. Second one, beach with palm trees, rocky brown cliff set back up the beach edged an emerald rainforest. Laboratory pearched near the top of the cliff, long row of glass windows across the front. Down in the surf, in the loudly crashing waves and the white sand, epic, cinematic, an African bull elephant head to head with a T-Rex. Amazing camera angles, ferocious fight. Woke up before the end, I think the elephant was going to win, tried desperately to fall back into the dream, no dice. Third one, was long and dont remember much of it other than that when I woke I thought it was surely the craziest string of events I have ever thought of. At one point, a group of PCV friends and I were sitting around eating jelly beans of unknown flavors. I had a dark green one, thought apple or watermelon or some such flavor. Tried it, was really not sure, then someone found the guide. Sea-turtle... yeah. Other people had ones like tiger, porqupine, moose, and there were non animal ones I dont remember. Mine tasted rubbery, salty, mildly fishy. Dont recommend it.
Tree names. So, I am sitting with a handful of village folks, men, most of them older, not my usual crowd though, but nice neighbors. One points to a nearby baobab, 'do you know its name?' This was one of the first words I learned, of course. I say the word. 'No no,' he says, 'Its name.'I try 'tree?' Wrong again. He tells me all the all the baobabs have individual names. Or, as I learn more percisely in the next few days, most of the big older ones do. As it is in Seereer, the way you say something is famous is to say that it has a name. The smaller ones, less than a couple meters wide, are too babyish to have a name, to have a story. Even some of the big ones just dont have names know even village-wide. I learn the main four in my part of the village, at first stumbling over unfamiliar sounds pushed together when I realize what they mean, its so obvious that i almost laugh out loud. Many are descriptive to their usual flavor of fruit, sweet like sugar or bitter or powdery. Some are related to thier location, the one that sits in a puddle in the rainy season. Others are more just other ranom stuff the tree is known for, one doesnt drop fruit when you throw sticks at it, one is where folks used to dance around, one is named for a guy that fell out of it and died more than sixty years ago (not sure how long ago, before this old guy i talked to was born), one is the monkeys tree cause they always steal the fruit. And the nice thing is all these names roll of the tongue in Seereer pretty well. 'baak koi age' for example, 'the monkeys baobab'. I wanna learn all the ones in my village.
Abdou. My little brother has recently begun to venture into the world of organized, even purposeful speech. He still generally tottles around aimlessly, but he will throw a word or two at you sometimes in a very cute little voice. Recently he was super fussy one night. He cried for a long while, wanting his dad, who was out and hadnt come home from work yet. My other younger brothers did their best to calm him down, but he generally wasnt having it. When dad did come home, he followed him around, holding his pant leg, repeating over and over, 'dad, dad, DAD! ball.' over and over. Eventually, just before dinner, my dad gives in, as is usual in my house. Another brother goes off to the local boutique and comesback with the a mini rubber soccer ball. He carries it around, kicks it uncoordinatedly around, crys when anyone else touches it or gets too close to it, he even refuses to put it down when he goes to eat. He pays more attention to the ball than anything else and in watching it to make sure it doesnt roll away on him, he gets most of his food on his shirt and on the ground in front of him. Then he wants, as is usual, to go to sleep on his dads lap. Well, first off, dad is eating so that is a tricky endevor, but he is persistent and gets up on his knee. But he wants to hold the ball clutched to his chest. He also wants to sleep, but everytime he starts to doze off the ball slips and falls and he starts crying, 'it fell!, dad, dad, DAD! it fell.' And when my dad gets tired of picking it up, Abdou gets so fussy that he rolls himself off my dads lap gets the ball and climbs back up. 'put your ball away in the room until tomorrow?' my dad suggests. No dice. Eventually Abdou falls asleep, both him and dad holding the ball to his chest. The next day the ball pops and Abdou more or less forgets about it.
Guitar guy. Ok, first one not in my village. In Dakar actually. Everytime I go to the big long main market in Dakar where lots of tourists walk up and down I get hassled by the same guy. Not sure if he recognises me or just always thinks i am interested for some reason, but i always see him. Down that street you can get things from wood carvings to glass paintings, sunglasses to scarfs, dresses to running shoes, phones and senegalese fabric, its all there. But this always finds me when market shopping is the last thing on my mind. I am headed somewhere or coming back from a meeting or somethign and he follows me. He holds out a couple small senegalese musical instruments. Like little guitars with big round bodies. He starts by telling me some outrageous price twenty, twenty-five mille. I half laugh at his hopeless attempt and walk away and of course then he follows me. I am not even barganing, not saying any price, just 'next time, next time, i have no money now'. And he just keeps lowering it, and lowering it. I am not even talking to him, not looking at him, not encouraging him or anything, I just keep walking. And always, eventually, often right before i about to turn down a side street or go in somewhere, he says 'ok one mille.' And always this makes me hesitate. I mean, they are not the best looking things in the world and they would probably fall apart with more than a small amount of abuse. But at the same time, they arent too bad, a nice little souvenir that could just sit on a mantle somewhere or something. And for two dollars! This always makes me turn and look at him, give a long frowning glance to his little guitars, before turning and going on my way. 'Next time,' I say, 'next time.'
Grat mephloquine dreams. So I have had several good memorable ones, here are a few. One was super dark, german expressionistic - lightning, huge manor on a high craggy plateau, bats, the whole deal. Demon vampire bad guy, me and nerdy sidekick had to subdue him, had him tied to a table but before we could put him out cast a spell that blew up the house and leveled the terrain. Thrilling. Second one, beach with palm trees, rocky brown cliff set back up the beach edged an emerald rainforest. Laboratory pearched near the top of the cliff, long row of glass windows across the front. Down in the surf, in the loudly crashing waves and the white sand, epic, cinematic, an African bull elephant head to head with a T-Rex. Amazing camera angles, ferocious fight. Woke up before the end, I think the elephant was going to win, tried desperately to fall back into the dream, no dice. Third one, was long and dont remember much of it other than that when I woke I thought it was surely the craziest string of events I have ever thought of. At one point, a group of PCV friends and I were sitting around eating jelly beans of unknown flavors. I had a dark green one, thought apple or watermelon or some such flavor. Tried it, was really not sure, then someone found the guide. Sea-turtle... yeah. Other people had ones like tiger, porqupine, moose, and there were non animal ones I dont remember. Mine tasted rubbery, salty, mildly fishy. Dont recommend it.
Tree names. So, I am sitting with a handful of village folks, men, most of them older, not my usual crowd though, but nice neighbors. One points to a nearby baobab, 'do you know its name?' This was one of the first words I learned, of course. I say the word. 'No no,' he says, 'Its name.'I try 'tree?' Wrong again. He tells me all the all the baobabs have individual names. Or, as I learn more percisely in the next few days, most of the big older ones do. As it is in Seereer, the way you say something is famous is to say that it has a name. The smaller ones, less than a couple meters wide, are too babyish to have a name, to have a story. Even some of the big ones just dont have names know even village-wide. I learn the main four in my part of the village, at first stumbling over unfamiliar sounds pushed together when I realize what they mean, its so obvious that i almost laugh out loud. Many are descriptive to their usual flavor of fruit, sweet like sugar or bitter or powdery. Some are related to thier location, the one that sits in a puddle in the rainy season. Others are more just other ranom stuff the tree is known for, one doesnt drop fruit when you throw sticks at it, one is where folks used to dance around, one is named for a guy that fell out of it and died more than sixty years ago (not sure how long ago, before this old guy i talked to was born), one is the monkeys tree cause they always steal the fruit. And the nice thing is all these names roll of the tongue in Seereer pretty well. 'baak koi age' for example, 'the monkeys baobab'. I wanna learn all the ones in my village.
Abdou. My little brother has recently begun to venture into the world of organized, even purposeful speech. He still generally tottles around aimlessly, but he will throw a word or two at you sometimes in a very cute little voice. Recently he was super fussy one night. He cried for a long while, wanting his dad, who was out and hadnt come home from work yet. My other younger brothers did their best to calm him down, but he generally wasnt having it. When dad did come home, he followed him around, holding his pant leg, repeating over and over, 'dad, dad, DAD! ball.' over and over. Eventually, just before dinner, my dad gives in, as is usual in my house. Another brother goes off to the local boutique and comesback with the a mini rubber soccer ball. He carries it around, kicks it uncoordinatedly around, crys when anyone else touches it or gets too close to it, he even refuses to put it down when he goes to eat. He pays more attention to the ball than anything else and in watching it to make sure it doesnt roll away on him, he gets most of his food on his shirt and on the ground in front of him. Then he wants, as is usual, to go to sleep on his dads lap. Well, first off, dad is eating so that is a tricky endevor, but he is persistent and gets up on his knee. But he wants to hold the ball clutched to his chest. He also wants to sleep, but everytime he starts to doze off the ball slips and falls and he starts crying, 'it fell!, dad, dad, DAD! it fell.' And when my dad gets tired of picking it up, Abdou gets so fussy that he rolls himself off my dads lap gets the ball and climbs back up. 'put your ball away in the room until tomorrow?' my dad suggests. No dice. Eventually Abdou falls asleep, both him and dad holding the ball to his chest. The next day the ball pops and Abdou more or less forgets about it.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
On Kamolangola and More Year Marks
On May 7th through the 11th, my village hosted the first of a now yearly weekend of wrestling in the village. This was a grand occasion full of the wonders of traditional wrestling, Seereer music and drumming. It was the third to last weekend in the big tournament of wrestling that encompases a bunch of villages and towns around me. Folks all come in from the area whenever there is a nearby tournament going on, and most villages have a wrestler or two to cheer for.
This date also coincides with a year from when we swore in as legit PCVs and nearly a year from when I installed at my site. With this combined reason for celebration I wanted to have over a bunch of PCV friends over to enjoy the tournament and see my village and all that.
The tournament was a four night affair and for some of it I had folks over. In fact for one night I had six guests, all sleeping in my little hut with me. Needless to say, it was a tight fit.
I had been to another wrestling night. Back in January i went with a bunch of people from my village over to the next village over. We were the "Delegation of Louly Ngogom" which was cool. We got there near about sunset, so at that time of year, maybe around 7, we had dinner at 10, it didnt all finish till after 1am. And a night time ride on a trotting horse cart with no lights of anykind, a little frightening. The horse can see better than we can i guess. I trust...
Anyway, this one in my village, as it was near the end of the whole tournament, had weeded out and whittled down the opponents to a more managable thirty or fourty. So each night did, in fact, not run on very long. The wrestling was pretty good and got better each night even. They even sold food there. There was, of course, the Seereer singers, but unfortunately they were not singing in our Seereer, it was some other dialect from the south and so we couldnt even understand it. They were not my favorite part of the whole deal, but then they only sang for part of each night so it was ok. There was also about a dozen griots druming. They were very cool. People constantly went up and danced out in front of them. The wrestling itself is interesting. i took some pictures and video, but the video is so dark it is not even worth putting up here but i will put the pictures up at some point.
The arena was set up as this large square of stick fence, about an area the size of a football field or so, with a ring of wooden benches all the way around. There was a VIP area with judges and announcers and such. The drumers and singers were set there too and they had a few mics connected to big speakers and a couple of weak spotlights. The wrestlers are all out in the middle nearly the whole time. They each had their own areas to the side, with faithful helpers standing watch over numerous tokens and bottles containing water, oils, other mysterious liquids. There is generally only one match going on at a time, sometimes two though, and the rest pace around, dance, and look cool for the rest of the time.
Its basically similar to a greco-roman style deal, but they are donw as soon as one touches his head or back to the ground. They do a lot of traditional rituals and all act in a certain manner and are also dressed sparingly and usually have a variety of traditional tokens, arm bands, leg bands, ones that wrap around your trunk. Each match may be very quick, I recorded one that was no more than fifteen seconds, or they can be long, lasting many rounds, length determined by the judge, though i dont find the long ones as entertaining. At the first wrestling event I had gone to actually, the finals match went on for a really long time. After several inconclusive rounds, it was well into the middle of the night and the wrestlers were even getting obviously frustrated with one another, the judges called it, had a little meeting and declared one of them the winner. There was one really long match durring my village's event, but luckily they did not need to break it off early.
Anyway, so the wrestling was really fun, I will put up pictures. It was also a time to be silly in the village with guests, we climbed baobab trees and played board games - very fun. It feels like I have been in the village for so much more than just a year. But then again, this year is flying by way way to fast. One more year!
NOTE: way backdated entry is up about fixing up my hut WITH pictures, i think its prolly on a different page, its from april.
This date also coincides with a year from when we swore in as legit PCVs and nearly a year from when I installed at my site. With this combined reason for celebration I wanted to have over a bunch of PCV friends over to enjoy the tournament and see my village and all that.
The tournament was a four night affair and for some of it I had folks over. In fact for one night I had six guests, all sleeping in my little hut with me. Needless to say, it was a tight fit.
I had been to another wrestling night. Back in January i went with a bunch of people from my village over to the next village over. We were the "Delegation of Louly Ngogom" which was cool. We got there near about sunset, so at that time of year, maybe around 7, we had dinner at 10, it didnt all finish till after 1am. And a night time ride on a trotting horse cart with no lights of anykind, a little frightening. The horse can see better than we can i guess. I trust...
Anyway, this one in my village, as it was near the end of the whole tournament, had weeded out and whittled down the opponents to a more managable thirty or fourty. So each night did, in fact, not run on very long. The wrestling was pretty good and got better each night even. They even sold food there. There was, of course, the Seereer singers, but unfortunately they were not singing in our Seereer, it was some other dialect from the south and so we couldnt even understand it. They were not my favorite part of the whole deal, but then they only sang for part of each night so it was ok. There was also about a dozen griots druming. They were very cool. People constantly went up and danced out in front of them. The wrestling itself is interesting. i took some pictures and video, but the video is so dark it is not even worth putting up here but i will put the pictures up at some point.
The arena was set up as this large square of stick fence, about an area the size of a football field or so, with a ring of wooden benches all the way around. There was a VIP area with judges and announcers and such. The drumers and singers were set there too and they had a few mics connected to big speakers and a couple of weak spotlights. The wrestlers are all out in the middle nearly the whole time. They each had their own areas to the side, with faithful helpers standing watch over numerous tokens and bottles containing water, oils, other mysterious liquids. There is generally only one match going on at a time, sometimes two though, and the rest pace around, dance, and look cool for the rest of the time.
Its basically similar to a greco-roman style deal, but they are donw as soon as one touches his head or back to the ground. They do a lot of traditional rituals and all act in a certain manner and are also dressed sparingly and usually have a variety of traditional tokens, arm bands, leg bands, ones that wrap around your trunk. Each match may be very quick, I recorded one that was no more than fifteen seconds, or they can be long, lasting many rounds, length determined by the judge, though i dont find the long ones as entertaining. At the first wrestling event I had gone to actually, the finals match went on for a really long time. After several inconclusive rounds, it was well into the middle of the night and the wrestlers were even getting obviously frustrated with one another, the judges called it, had a little meeting and declared one of them the winner. There was one really long match durring my village's event, but luckily they did not need to break it off early.
Anyway, so the wrestling was really fun, I will put up pictures. It was also a time to be silly in the village with guests, we climbed baobab trees and played board games - very fun. It feels like I have been in the village for so much more than just a year. But then again, this year is flying by way way to fast. One more year!
NOTE: way backdated entry is up about fixing up my hut WITH pictures, i think its prolly on a different page, its from april.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Fully Funded!
The latrine project has been fully funded!
I just found out a day ago that the PC website updated its information and now boasts that my project has achieved all of its required funding! THANK YOU ALL! To the people who I know and dont know, to my friends and family, to those that passed the word on and those that were more than generous, THANK YOU! I know there were even more people who were all set to give more, people who just found out about it and people with great kind hearts, -thank you too for your interest and support!
If you are still giddy in the giving spirit, I know there are other PCVs with worthy projects that are as eager to get funds as I was, so check them out!
My thanks will never be enough of course, but I will do my best to proceed with this project, document and communicate to yall how everything turns out qnd how appreciative the community is.
As for the current timeline, my village counterpart agrees that trying to get this done durring the rainy season is problematic for a variety of reasons and because it has taken most of this dry season to bring the project from creation to now, the best way to preceed is to begin the actual construction after the rainy season. Unfortunately this means multiple months of nothing besides securing the materials and transport to our village.
I will keep you all in the know as to what is going on regularly. Thank you all, again, thank you!
I just found out a day ago that the PC website updated its information and now boasts that my project has achieved all of its required funding! THANK YOU ALL! To the people who I know and dont know, to my friends and family, to those that passed the word on and those that were more than generous, THANK YOU! I know there were even more people who were all set to give more, people who just found out about it and people with great kind hearts, -thank you too for your interest and support!
If you are still giddy in the giving spirit, I know there are other PCVs with worthy projects that are as eager to get funds as I was, so check them out!
My thanks will never be enough of course, but I will do my best to proceed with this project, document and communicate to yall how everything turns out qnd how appreciative the community is.
As for the current timeline, my village counterpart agrees that trying to get this done durring the rainy season is problematic for a variety of reasons and because it has taken most of this dry season to bring the project from creation to now, the best way to preceed is to begin the actual construction after the rainy season. Unfortunately this means multiple months of nothing besides securing the materials and transport to our village.
I will keep you all in the know as to what is going on regularly. Thank you all, again, thank you!
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Moments of Silence
between the moments of screaming loud noises.
So just wanted to take a moment to pause. I have about five blog entries on the back burner, waiting for me to finish them. But then something else always comes up. That plus three more things i have ideas to write about soon. I never get enough cyber time.
What i really want to do is to appeal all of you out there in radio land, that my latrine project really needs money. Actually, with the lack of comments or feedback, I have no idea if anyones read this for months. So let me know you are out there and check out that web site, its over there on the right. or here again is better
https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=685-117
Seriously, check it out. There are hundreds of people with literally NO latrines. They would like A latrine. Help them out.
So just wanted to take a moment to pause. I have about five blog entries on the back burner, waiting for me to finish them. But then something else always comes up. That plus three more things i have ideas to write about soon. I never get enough cyber time.
What i really want to do is to appeal all of you out there in radio land, that my latrine project really needs money. Actually, with the lack of comments or feedback, I have no idea if anyones read this for months. So let me know you are out there and check out that web site, its over there on the right. or here again is better
https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=685-117
Seriously, check it out. There are hundreds of people with literally NO latrines. They would like A latrine. Help them out.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Clean-up Day
On saturday we had a mini area cleanup. Our burn pit was finished and folks had been throwing stuff in it for the whole week.
We had a little trouble over the week and i had to go around and explain a few times what exactly could be dumped into it, what could burn and what could not, what i was taking separately and burying and what was to be dumped on the ground as regular organic stuff. Ash is no good, dirt is no good, food stuff is a no, metal cannot burn, a whole lot of explaining.
Then saturday didnt start out so great. It was kinda just me picking up trash and a few random kids were either not really helping or where trying to help but then getting distracted with other stuff. I didnt really care that it was not a big fancy get everybody together and clean up. I had kinda liked the idea of just doing it small at first, starting with the kids and then the adults get interested when they see results and the kids grow up with the interest.
The afternoon was much better, i went and got my brothers and sisters together and some other kids came too cause they were so helpful and it turned into a pretty good afternoon clean up thing. In fact the kids had way more energy at it then i did and when the sun was about to set and i had to go pull water, they still wanted to find more trash and i had to stop them and tell them we could get more next time.
We first went to some spots where they knew they couldnt play cause of all the broken glass. I picked up all that and put it into my trashcan thing, along with lots of metal and lots of batteries. Everything else we gathered and dumped into the hole. Lots of fabric, broken shoes, plastic bags, candy wrappers, and other bits of things that people had thrown out.
We got a good amount of stuff from near the school. We didnt really focus on the school and next time we can get that cleaned up better. We got most of all the stuff from around that little intersection just outside of my compound and the surounding area. It turned out to be a whole lot of trash. The area really does look a lot better and the kids can run around, at least in a limited area, without a nonsensicle amount of broken glass to worry about.
That evening I burned what we had collected. It went up pretty easily and did not take long to die down. I will prolly go in now and take out the metal bits that didnt burn and then we can repeat the process again next week.
And I took pictures!
We had a little trouble over the week and i had to go around and explain a few times what exactly could be dumped into it, what could burn and what could not, what i was taking separately and burying and what was to be dumped on the ground as regular organic stuff. Ash is no good, dirt is no good, food stuff is a no, metal cannot burn, a whole lot of explaining.
Then saturday didnt start out so great. It was kinda just me picking up trash and a few random kids were either not really helping or where trying to help but then getting distracted with other stuff. I didnt really care that it was not a big fancy get everybody together and clean up. I had kinda liked the idea of just doing it small at first, starting with the kids and then the adults get interested when they see results and the kids grow up with the interest.
The afternoon was much better, i went and got my brothers and sisters together and some other kids came too cause they were so helpful and it turned into a pretty good afternoon clean up thing. In fact the kids had way more energy at it then i did and when the sun was about to set and i had to go pull water, they still wanted to find more trash and i had to stop them and tell them we could get more next time.
We first went to some spots where they knew they couldnt play cause of all the broken glass. I picked up all that and put it into my trashcan thing, along with lots of metal and lots of batteries. Everything else we gathered and dumped into the hole. Lots of fabric, broken shoes, plastic bags, candy wrappers, and other bits of things that people had thrown out.
We got a good amount of stuff from near the school. We didnt really focus on the school and next time we can get that cleaned up better. We got most of all the stuff from around that little intersection just outside of my compound and the surounding area. It turned out to be a whole lot of trash. The area really does look a lot better and the kids can run around, at least in a limited area, without a nonsensicle amount of broken glass to worry about.
That evening I burned what we had collected. It went up pretty easily and did not take long to die down. I will prolly go in now and take out the metal bits that didnt burn and then we can repeat the process again next week.
And I took pictures!
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Earth Day
For Earth Day, Wednesday April 22, 2009, I decided to be bold. Well, I decided to be busy, and hoped that things would work out in a positive way. Thats kinda like bold, for me, I guess.
Anyway, so I had a three-pronged aproach. Ok, maybe it was a two pronged aproach and involved three things that were in many ways interconected. Well on the actual day we only did two of those things and I did something else unrelated on top of that and later in the week we did the third thing. Well, let me explain:
While my local school and its teachers has been a source of continual frustration with me, I have really wanted to do some good environmental activities with the club that I have there. Dubbed the 'school garden club', one would suppose that we would have a kicking school garden by now. Alas, this is not the case. The would be garden has been repeatedly trampled by herds of cattle and other beasts and the space behind the school thusly remains a hard packed wasteland with no protection from the dying and widly spaced live fence plants. In the past they have attempted to go all out, fix up the live fence as best they could and plant like mad before it all gets eaten. This has led to efficient garden destruction and no one in the village wants to take ownership of such a large and overwhelming mess.
My idea then has been to start small. Rather than going all out for an expensive fence and fancy garden in the midst of waning interest, I decided to just do a school tree nursury. The kids from the club could have a few tree sacks each, water them, plant what they want in them, take care of them, and when the time comes, they can out plant them in their own compounds or out in their family gardens or wherever they want. Eventually this could expand to be a garden, maybe in the fall, the kids could learn improved techniques like composting and as it expands, the teachers will use it for lessons, parents will look into it, the space will become valued and perhaps some will feel ownership towards it, kids will take what they learn out into the world, trees grow and children eat, everybody wins. That maybe pretty and ideal, but either way it could only lie further down the road.
The other big project I forsee is one involving trash management. My original idea for earth day was to do a village trash cleanup, focusing on the area of hazardous waste. Most everyones trash falls into three categories: There is all the organic stuff, the biodegradable food leftovers dirt and junk that folks want out of their houses. This gets thrown into a pile outside of compounds to turn into dirt or blow away in the wind or whatever, no problem. I will get back to that later. The rest is as you would expect, man made junk that does not decompose. Most of this is you usual plastic bags, shoes, plastic bottles, old clothes and fabric, frayed rope and candy wrappers. This stuff builds up slowly, its surprising how seldom a family will throw away something like that, but it builds up none the less, mixed into the piles of organic junk and sand and blows around in the wind and never goes away. Except that they do burn it. Unfortunately there really only seems three options that make any sense for the people in my village and in most of senegal. You can burn it, which is reasonably easy and quick, though a little messy, you can bury it, not very easy and not very feasable to do with any frequency, or you can just ignore it and move on, which is what most of the country does.
I have gone back and forth on what a trash management procedure could look like in my village. I dont like the idea or burying it, that just makes a lot of work that no one wants to do, no one will do after i leave and just leaves the probelm for someone to dig up later. I also do not care for burning it, that is simply poluting the ground and the air and then you have toxic ash blowing everywhere in the wind. But what else can we do. Taking advice from several other PCVs i decided to go halfway. I talked to a gathering of most of the women living near me and tolk them about the problem and we decided that we could dig a pit, maybe a meter deep, and put the trash in that to burn it. It is not the ideal, but i cant think of what is. The women seemed happy enough about it, even applauded me when i was done. I just hope it is used well.
The third type of trash and the most dangerous as I see it is what is left over, the broken glass, the sharp bits of rusty metal things and most of all, the low grade batteries that are widely used enough in my village that they can be found everywhere. There is no good option as what to do with any of these, there is really an amazing amount, even around the primary school where kids play soccer barefoot. I saw this as a top concern.
So at the start of the grand day of the earth, I headed out to the school to talk to the teachers and the students. I had purchased a little trash can and put a sign on it, showing that it was for hazardous stuff. My original idea was that this could be put in front of the school, or maybe i could get several of them around the village so that when any kid, or anyone, sees some glass or batteries or whatever, they can put it in the can. I could emty the can every once in a while and wrap the batteries in paper and bury them somewhere far from wells, gardens or compounds. Immediately after explaining my plan and the beauty of Earth day to the teachers, they informed me, after looking at the trash can as something trivial and quaint, a silly gift from the toubab, that it would be stolen if i left it infront of the school. I was so taken aback i didnt know what to say to that. The principle offered to keep it in his office and put it out on the steps durring school hours, they all thought this was reasonable, he took the can from me, told me they would explain it all to the students and i walked away confused.
Also that day I told a guy across the village i would pick a bunch of seeds with him that morning. I had discovered his crop of moringa trees the weekend before and they were loaded; LOADED with seed pods. I had already gone and picked a bunch, some 400 pods and a bunch more seeds. As each pods has an average of 15 seeds, this was a lot. That morning I went back and got nearly 700 more pods and many mny more seeds. Later that week i made a trip to dakar and dropped off the 10-20 thousand seeds to be given out to other volunteers, so cool.
Anyway, after that long ordeal, it was back to the school to prepare the area for the tree nursury. I also got the dirt and manure to fill sacks with so the afternoon activity could go smoothly. I also changed my mind, took my trash can back and told the principle that we would use it for a trash cleanup later. After lunch It was back to the school again and waiting for my club to show up to set up their tree sacks. While we waited, kids thought what i was doing was funny and seemed to wanna help so i told them about the dangerous trash pick up. This on the one hand, seems a little counter productive to me. You tell young kids what is dangerous, things they should not touch or play with, but then you ask them to go find it and pick it up. Anyway, it worked well. When told what to look for it is like the kids all of the sudden realized how dirty the ground really was. Like they had never seen all the trash before or knew what to make of it. I was amazed, still am amazed how much broken glass there is all around the school and my compound and the kids amaze me by finding and bringing more and more of it.
Then, even theough the club decided to generally snub me again (that can be a whole nother post), we did do a decent job filling the sacks with the children that were around. We picked up trash, made a tree nursury, it was a good earh day. But i was not done for the week.
On saturday, after I was shown and marked off a proper area for it, We started digging the burn pit. I thought it would take a day, but it lasted two and I spent two more aranging it better. Lots of random kids stopped by to help with that, my family, older kids, very young kids, some that threw more dirt back in the hole than got it out. It was fun, it wa very dirty, my hands feel awful and have more blisters than fingers, but i think it might work, if it doesnt collapse. For the same reason that we have to cement line our latrines, the pit may need to be cemented. My village sits on sand, that sand sits on a layer of harder packed sand, over sand that is ever harder packed. No dirt, no clay, sand sand and more sand. We will see i guess.
Anyhow, now I want to do a big neighborhood cleanup with my club, around the school and my compound this saturday morning. We can throw all we can into the hole, so far even the crazy wind we have hasnt blown any of it back out again, and then butn it there. I think that if people see its positive effect, this trash 'management system' of burn pits and separating dangerous stuff can be extended to other neighborhoods and areas in my village. As they sort out burn stuff from dangerous stuff the leftover pile they creat will in effect be a compost pile. This can be extended into thier gardens or fields and as I said we can demo this in the future school garden.
I think there is a lot of potential in this. I am excited as to what will happen either way. Oh my this a long post. There are lots of pictures, I put up some of them on my picture site, check it out.
Note: i have a bunch of back dated blog entries that are half finished that i will get to at some point and post, so look out!
Anyway, so I had a three-pronged aproach. Ok, maybe it was a two pronged aproach and involved three things that were in many ways interconected. Well on the actual day we only did two of those things and I did something else unrelated on top of that and later in the week we did the third thing. Well, let me explain:
While my local school and its teachers has been a source of continual frustration with me, I have really wanted to do some good environmental activities with the club that I have there. Dubbed the 'school garden club', one would suppose that we would have a kicking school garden by now. Alas, this is not the case. The would be garden has been repeatedly trampled by herds of cattle and other beasts and the space behind the school thusly remains a hard packed wasteland with no protection from the dying and widly spaced live fence plants. In the past they have attempted to go all out, fix up the live fence as best they could and plant like mad before it all gets eaten. This has led to efficient garden destruction and no one in the village wants to take ownership of such a large and overwhelming mess.
My idea then has been to start small. Rather than going all out for an expensive fence and fancy garden in the midst of waning interest, I decided to just do a school tree nursury. The kids from the club could have a few tree sacks each, water them, plant what they want in them, take care of them, and when the time comes, they can out plant them in their own compounds or out in their family gardens or wherever they want. Eventually this could expand to be a garden, maybe in the fall, the kids could learn improved techniques like composting and as it expands, the teachers will use it for lessons, parents will look into it, the space will become valued and perhaps some will feel ownership towards it, kids will take what they learn out into the world, trees grow and children eat, everybody wins. That maybe pretty and ideal, but either way it could only lie further down the road.
The other big project I forsee is one involving trash management. My original idea for earth day was to do a village trash cleanup, focusing on the area of hazardous waste. Most everyones trash falls into three categories: There is all the organic stuff, the biodegradable food leftovers dirt and junk that folks want out of their houses. This gets thrown into a pile outside of compounds to turn into dirt or blow away in the wind or whatever, no problem. I will get back to that later. The rest is as you would expect, man made junk that does not decompose. Most of this is you usual plastic bags, shoes, plastic bottles, old clothes and fabric, frayed rope and candy wrappers. This stuff builds up slowly, its surprising how seldom a family will throw away something like that, but it builds up none the less, mixed into the piles of organic junk and sand and blows around in the wind and never goes away. Except that they do burn it. Unfortunately there really only seems three options that make any sense for the people in my village and in most of senegal. You can burn it, which is reasonably easy and quick, though a little messy, you can bury it, not very easy and not very feasable to do with any frequency, or you can just ignore it and move on, which is what most of the country does.
I have gone back and forth on what a trash management procedure could look like in my village. I dont like the idea or burying it, that just makes a lot of work that no one wants to do, no one will do after i leave and just leaves the probelm for someone to dig up later. I also do not care for burning it, that is simply poluting the ground and the air and then you have toxic ash blowing everywhere in the wind. But what else can we do. Taking advice from several other PCVs i decided to go halfway. I talked to a gathering of most of the women living near me and tolk them about the problem and we decided that we could dig a pit, maybe a meter deep, and put the trash in that to burn it. It is not the ideal, but i cant think of what is. The women seemed happy enough about it, even applauded me when i was done. I just hope it is used well.
The third type of trash and the most dangerous as I see it is what is left over, the broken glass, the sharp bits of rusty metal things and most of all, the low grade batteries that are widely used enough in my village that they can be found everywhere. There is no good option as what to do with any of these, there is really an amazing amount, even around the primary school where kids play soccer barefoot. I saw this as a top concern.
So at the start of the grand day of the earth, I headed out to the school to talk to the teachers and the students. I had purchased a little trash can and put a sign on it, showing that it was for hazardous stuff. My original idea was that this could be put in front of the school, or maybe i could get several of them around the village so that when any kid, or anyone, sees some glass or batteries or whatever, they can put it in the can. I could emty the can every once in a while and wrap the batteries in paper and bury them somewhere far from wells, gardens or compounds. Immediately after explaining my plan and the beauty of Earth day to the teachers, they informed me, after looking at the trash can as something trivial and quaint, a silly gift from the toubab, that it would be stolen if i left it infront of the school. I was so taken aback i didnt know what to say to that. The principle offered to keep it in his office and put it out on the steps durring school hours, they all thought this was reasonable, he took the can from me, told me they would explain it all to the students and i walked away confused.
Also that day I told a guy across the village i would pick a bunch of seeds with him that morning. I had discovered his crop of moringa trees the weekend before and they were loaded; LOADED with seed pods. I had already gone and picked a bunch, some 400 pods and a bunch more seeds. As each pods has an average of 15 seeds, this was a lot. That morning I went back and got nearly 700 more pods and many mny more seeds. Later that week i made a trip to dakar and dropped off the 10-20 thousand seeds to be given out to other volunteers, so cool.
Anyway, after that long ordeal, it was back to the school to prepare the area for the tree nursury. I also got the dirt and manure to fill sacks with so the afternoon activity could go smoothly. I also changed my mind, took my trash can back and told the principle that we would use it for a trash cleanup later. After lunch It was back to the school again and waiting for my club to show up to set up their tree sacks. While we waited, kids thought what i was doing was funny and seemed to wanna help so i told them about the dangerous trash pick up. This on the one hand, seems a little counter productive to me. You tell young kids what is dangerous, things they should not touch or play with, but then you ask them to go find it and pick it up. Anyway, it worked well. When told what to look for it is like the kids all of the sudden realized how dirty the ground really was. Like they had never seen all the trash before or knew what to make of it. I was amazed, still am amazed how much broken glass there is all around the school and my compound and the kids amaze me by finding and bringing more and more of it.
Then, even theough the club decided to generally snub me again (that can be a whole nother post), we did do a decent job filling the sacks with the children that were around. We picked up trash, made a tree nursury, it was a good earh day. But i was not done for the week.
On saturday, after I was shown and marked off a proper area for it, We started digging the burn pit. I thought it would take a day, but it lasted two and I spent two more aranging it better. Lots of random kids stopped by to help with that, my family, older kids, very young kids, some that threw more dirt back in the hole than got it out. It was fun, it wa very dirty, my hands feel awful and have more blisters than fingers, but i think it might work, if it doesnt collapse. For the same reason that we have to cement line our latrines, the pit may need to be cemented. My village sits on sand, that sand sits on a layer of harder packed sand, over sand that is ever harder packed. No dirt, no clay, sand sand and more sand. We will see i guess.
Anyhow, now I want to do a big neighborhood cleanup with my club, around the school and my compound this saturday morning. We can throw all we can into the hole, so far even the crazy wind we have hasnt blown any of it back out again, and then butn it there. I think that if people see its positive effect, this trash 'management system' of burn pits and separating dangerous stuff can be extended to other neighborhoods and areas in my village. As they sort out burn stuff from dangerous stuff the leftover pile they creat will in effect be a compost pile. This can be extended into thier gardens or fields and as I said we can demo this in the future school garden.
I think there is a lot of potential in this. I am excited as to what will happen either way. Oh my this a long post. There are lots of pictures, I put up some of them on my picture site, check it out.
Note: i have a bunch of back dated blog entries that are half finished that i will get to at some point and post, so look out!
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Village Mangoes
The mango trees are growing heavy with fruit in my village this time of year and me and many other volunteers are terribly excited. Soon the markets will be flush with them and mangoes will be eaten seeming without end. My village itself has a fair number of mango trees, a couple near the school, a couple near the kindergarten, maybe more than a dozen scattered arround within walkind distance from my door. The mangoes really started to plump up and look good last month though in my village most are still pretty small. While the small green mangoes are very tart, some are tolerable to be eaten. The children in the village are ALL about them right now. Whenever they have free time they can be found hurling sticks and rocks at the trees, striping them and collecting as many tragically unripe fruits as they can. They then take bites out of all of them, usually finding half of them inedible and throwing them on the ground, and the rest they share. I am not sure about the helath issues with these unripe mangoes but they do cause mouth sores at the least. What i really dont understand is that the village just lets them do it. Those are hundreds of mangos that once mature will be a great source of income and nourishment by all. Money thrown on the ground for cripes sake! That just leads to the fatalist view of the world that id rather not get into right now.
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