Ndiouma Diom's first in a series of how-tos for living in Senegal
-be sure to take notes, this will be on the final
-appologies to animal lovers, Ndiouma is usually not this crazy, and this is the longest post ever
-also, sorry, I really am ok, I just wrote this all out in the middle of the night one night and needed to make a post out of it
-also, i really am only half as crazy as I sound
+Step one- live in a hut with one or more mice. You dont need to go out and find them, they will find you.
+Next, allow yourself to be slowly and helplessly deprived of sleep for several months...
+Despite the small size of the intruders, they will delight in the great amounts of noise they can make frolicking about your room, mere feet from your annoyed head. They will cleverly gather up debris from outside and all your untidy bits you leave carelessly about inside: bottle caps, loose change, bits of metal, glass or shell, scraps of paper, clothespins, keys, thumbtacks and even nail clippers. Once collected, they will wait until you are at the very threshold of sleep, where sounds become nearly surreal and lost in your own head, when even the crickets (who have also moved in,) have almost been turned into the white-noise of night. When you are discovered in this state, they will chew on and bang these items together in one of the corners of the thatch where they nest. There favorite used to be right over your head, but graciously they have moved much of their oporation to the corner at your feet. Still, this does not amuse you.
+A few, seemingly inconsequential details: As it happens, you filled up the little plastic trash bag outside and have not had time to find another to stuff your sticky jolly rancher wrappers into and instead you choose to stuff them in a tin can. It is a chilly evening and likely to be a cold night so you get your sweater out of your clothes trunk. It is the bottom one of your two trunks, the clothes one is a lighter, tin box with thin wooden slats on the bottom. Your food trunk is heavier, sitting on top of the other one, made of thick cast metal with a good seal as to keep out bugs. After two recent care-packages and a trip to the grocery, it is briming with deliciousness.
+The mouse chews a chunk out of the eye-dropper you use to bleach your drinking water. Luckily you happen to have a spare and the bottle is relocated inside your dresser. The dresser has a single-piece plywood back and should rest flush with the walls in the corner it is in. Heat, humidity, age or maybe just poor craftmanship have made the back warped such that there is a permenent space between it and the wall. A perfect hideout for all sorts of hut critters. Push on the top front of the dresser and it will rock back and forth again, annoying, but not squashing, what hides behind. The little can of candy trash is put on the floor next to the trunks.
+You are generally a lover of all things nature. In fact, you cannot think of a time when you directly caused the death of anything above the arthropod kingdom. Maybe a few fish on various summer trips with grandpa camping. Keep you awake countless times for countless nights, leave poop on everything left in the open, chew your stuff, hide your stuff and screw with your ability to purify water, then soon someone will indeed find themselves in a world of pain.
+Nearly a month ago, your host dad bought you some poison for the mouse problem. You had entertained guests for nearly a week and the mice had not entertained them in the slightest. You were all kept awake by frequent and noisy late-night shenanigans. The poison came in the form of a few small white capsuels. Your dad put them in a little cup of water, broke each one open, stirred it and put it on the floor in the corner by the dresser. 'Soon it will die,' he said confidently. That was nearly a month ago. While it may have killed some deserving roaches the size of band-aids, there has been no evidence that it made any impact on the local rodentia.
+You wake up numerous times a night, every night, to the mouse doing his best impression of a marching band around the top of the walls of your hut below the thatch. Shine your flashlight, make noise, slap the walls in the hopes of scaring it away so you can get a little more sleep without having to get up and untuck your mosquito net. The mouse seems to know your threats are empty when made from under the net and you are lucky if it even gives the mouse pause. Inevitably, you wind up draging yourself up and out of the net, reaching for the blunted stick you keep over the door for mouse pumeling, stomping angerly to the area of noise and beating, scrapeing and stabing at the gap over the wall. The mouse scampers away, presumably unharmed, its nest disturbed, You find your keys and go back to bed. The room is quiet untill the mouse calls your blugg, finds a plastic bottle cap and goes back to his fun. Rince and repeat.
+Mice have other enemies here besides you. The former volunteer had a few cats. At the mention or sight of the cats, your family will lament 'he should have taken them to America.' Your family, in fact, seems to generally despise them. They do have some advocates. When she was cleaning up leftovers from a lunch bowl, you asked your aunt what she would do with the remaining fish bones and scraps of vegetables (who eats eggplant anyway?). She said she was throwing them to the cats and they sat nearby, eagerly awaiting their turn. Other than leftovers, it is unclear what they eat on a daily basis. They are all quite thin yet have defined taught muscles and seem constantly on the prowl. You once saw one pounce on something near your hut one day. Trying to stay casual, you snuck a look at what the cat was playing with between its paws, letting go briefly and pouncing again. You hoped so much it was a mouse, your mouse, give the other mice something to think about. It was a lizard. A stupid, bug eating, sleeps all night quietly lizard. Stupid cat. There are also snakes out and about. From your amateur estimation, most are the non-threatening kind in and around the compound. While other types have been seen in the fields, nearby you have only seen thin brown and yellow ones, usually two or three feet long. The perfect size for eating a mouse. One even probed through your thatch one day but only found you eating lunch. Confused or bored it went back from wherever it came. Of the dozen or so that you have seen, they seem to generally only be interested in frogs. Perhaps now that the rains have been long over and 'frog season' is closing, their appitites will adjust.
+On this night the mouse is doing his darndest to keep you up. Your hand is sore from beating the stick against cement, your knuckles are red and irritated from repeatedly tucking and retucking the mosquito net. Around 4am you hear a leap to the floor. Note: his first mistake. The plastic floor covering on cement makes a sound one would expect from, say, a stampeding racoon or perhaps a very excited and rather confused baby sealion that found its way into your room and is desperately looking for a glass of water or a sardine. This is not the most amusing sound.
+When down from the roof, under my bed is an obvious hudung place: away from my flashlight, it is close but then out of your easy reach. Not much down there, but some cardboard and paper are always fun to play with. Behind the dresser is always a good base, with a few crawls and leaps one can scale to the top and be out over the thatch in no time. You have been keeping your trunks pushed up against the wall and the side of the dresser to discourage further hiding places and avenues of escape. This night though, when you got your sweater out, you left the trunks about an inch from the wall. You concider pushing them back on one of your trips in the night to the bathroom or to play tag with the mouse, but part of a plan forms in your head instead.
+The water in the cup of poison had evaporated, actually it had nearly evaporated twice. You figure the potent chemical part probably should still be in there so you refilled it again with water, twice. You place it in various high traffic areas, on the corner of the dresser and above the doors. You have seen no sign that it has ever done anything, hopefully it did not aerate and imbed in your lungs.
+At 5am, the judgement hour. The mouse is playing with the edge of the tin can with the candy wrappers. You slowly sit up, not sure between him and the malaria meds if you had closed your eyes for more than ten seconds that night. You flip on the flashlight and in the time it takes for your eyes to adjust, he scurries a little and is out of sight. You sit and wait, the wind-up flashlight getting dimmer by the second, your eye lids heavy and you are fed up. You stare out, still and quiet. Then, the mouse makes his second mistake. His nose pops out from behind the trunk, then his whole head as he peaks at you, then back to his nose again. Your cue.
+You had texted your friend, another volunteer in Mbour, about taking care of such things in the week before your dad bought the poison. She listed many avaliable options: poisons, glues, traps for both live capture or the traditional kind, all avaliable in various styles, colors and (for the posisons) various killing intensities. As you prefer not to deal with bodies, live or dead... or stuck, you thought poison would be best. While you do swing the stick with intention of bodily harm in the dark of night, in the light of day you like to think of yourself as not one who would smash the life out of something in cold blood. After innumerable sleepless nights, you think you are allowed a little licence.
+With all the stealth that you can muster at 5am, you pull up the net and step out onto the floor in one motion. In one stride you are out across the room and in a crouch before the trunks. You left the flashlight on lying on the bed. Light through the net gives you an odd large shadow against the wall. All that is left is mistake number three.
+Rodents you have had in my hut come in a variety of fun flavors. The legendary Scampers came into your room at least once, through the back door you had left open because of the heat that suffocated even at night. He is likely too big to come in otherwise. Scampers, in fact, has his own exciting and dramatic story you meant to have posted here months ago. To give an idea of his size, when you first caught a glipse of him, your mind jumped to opposomn or maybe a fat housecat. You have also had a bats in your hut on a few occasions, the small, bug catching kind, probably mid-size when it comes to the bat population on the whole. Most of the time though, your hut is occupied with mice of the tiny kind, fieldmice, like brown furry ping-pong balls. How it is possible for things so small to make so much noise, you will never understand.
+At this point, all the mouse has to do is move. It can either dart to the trash, not a great move, but it could hide temporarily behind the other empty cans there or the bricks holding up my water filter; Or, its safest bet, it can run the few feet across the back of the trunk and behind the dresser. You hope it is too smug to do either and place your hands low on either side of the front of the clothes trunk. And shove, hard. Remember to breath.
+Stand up, verify that it is flush with the wall on both sides with a few prods and a kick. Lay back down in bed, fairly sure you have accomplished nothing.
+Did I mention the mephloquine? For nearly nine months now you have been on a once a week malaria prophylaxis. The most noteworthy complaint is that it causes some insomnia, just what you need, and also vivid dreams, that while often facinating, lead to rather unrestful sleep. It is often worse on the night after taking the pill, which, as it happens, is tonight, and now thirteen or fourteen hours later you know further sleep is out of the question. While you think you are spared any other symptoms, for the record, they include mild hallucinations, anxiety and feeling generally like you are flipping out.
+When you lie down you dont even bother with the mosquito net, you know you are getting back up, you just want a little air. Seconds go by and you begin to hear irregular scratches against the floor and side of the tin box. It is possible, you think, if this mouse is small enough, it could be squeezing into the centemeter of space under the trunk. You stand again, slowly winding your flashlight, crossing the room. You click it on, quickly drag one corner of the trunk a few inches from the wall. Mouse. Slam it back again against the wall. You stand for a moment, then examine the trunk, both back corners are indeed nearly flush with the wall. You straighten up again awkwardly in the middle of the room. You concider attempting to capture it somehow, in a can or under a bucket to deal with it in the morning, but you realize it is probably fairly stuck where it is. Together the trunks surely weigh mroe than 30kg. Then you notice that he frantic scratching has stopped. For a moment your feet forget which way they should go, the bed is so close but now you are curious. You slide the trunk forward again a few inches. The mouse is slightly longer than your palm, not including the tail, larger than the usual mice. It is flat up against the wall, sideways, legs stretched out. Gravity slowly peals its back off the wall. You think, something better saved for the morning.
+The room is unusually quiet as you lie down again. Even the crickets seem to be taking a refrain. Quiet, but then, of course, you still cant sleep. You try reading but come to realize that the paragraph you are reading over and over is the same paragraph you read over and over last night. The wind is stirring up a surprising number of large dead leaves outside and the horse has an itch or else is repeatedly dozing off and sliping against the stick fence outside your back door.
+Morning does come and you do feel as rested as you ever are here. You show off the dead mouse to your younger brother who says yes, it is very nice, now kindly throw it away. You should have taken a picture, but thinking clearly is not one of your finest morning qualities.
+The next night is beautifully silent, as is the night after that. The third night, some other mice in the neighborhood noticed the vacancy and couldnt stand that such good real estate go to waste. Perhaps you can refine and build off this method... or just get yourself a real mousetrap from Mbour. You hope your friends can forgive you for haveing gone completely crazy...
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Toubabs Everywhere You Look
Gosh, a bunch has hapened the past three weeks, maybe I can skim the highlights:
School finally began at my village primary school around the end of October with several spurts and stutters. Now they are actually, kinda, holding classes. However, there were so many strikes and lost days last year, they have to do 2 months of review and finish up last years classes. So three of the classes are being held back this way, the oldest class left to middle school, and now my principle has a class of equivelent 1st graders.
I went up to St. Louis for halloween. It is a costal city up north, past Dakar. A small gathering of other volunteers was also there and in general I had a good time. The beach was beautiful and windy, the city was nice and had good restaurants, and best of all, it was COLD!
Back at site, the first full week of November I was fortunate to host two american exchange students who were studying in Dakar for the semester, and had week long rural visits. The two girls I hosted were cool and I felt actually sorta competent in Serere translating for them and showing them around the various exciting areas of the village.
On that tuesday we went and helped out in the local health hut with the nun that comes weekly to give out medicine. I hadent really been in the hut before to help out cause i figured the little french woman would want privacy, but it was pretty interesting. Most of the cases were apparently malaria.
Also on tuesday, that evening the neiboring families all through togther a dance circle with druming, some singing and lots of confusion, very fun. After, we crashed in my hut and tuned in for hourly election results on my shortwave on the bbc. They were pretty tired but I caught some early state predictions through 200+ electoral votes, to the consession speech and then most of the acceptance speech. Needless to say, I didnt actually sleep much that night. The mice also decided to have parties everynight, keeping us all up, but with the help of my dad, their fun may be over soon. The rest of the week we were all very excited about the Obama win and many of the villagers congradulated us too.
Also, through this week and all of this past one, there have been french people in my village every morning. I think it is some kind of french aid-service thingy, but about a dozen, mostly young, very pale, french men were in the village helping to build a wall around the kindergarden's yard, also encompasing the church and the health hut and the big gnarly shade tree. I tried to stay out of their hair for thier african-experience, and really i guess they did a pretty good job of it.
On Saturday, the students wanted to go and see joal before going back to dakar and i went too as I hadnt really had the oportunity to spend time down there yet. Joal is about 40km south of me on the coast and we toured the island of Fadiouth, which is made out of shells and is home to many serere speakers. That day we also saw the french group again also on tour of the island.
This week I have spent more time observing and helping classes in the school. I took a 2 day trip to Mbour though to help work in the garden of the urban-ag volunteer who is based here. Another PCV came down from dakar and the three of us got Jen's garden looking not too bad for two days of work.
Now, this weekend is mbour time again, a couple of birthdays is a good ocasion to get volunteers together and perhaps there will be pizza and cake somwhere in these two days.
My next big trip is to go up north for thanksgiving, they say the desert is cooling dow up there so maybe it will not feel like a summer feast.
Boo o pam!
School finally began at my village primary school around the end of October with several spurts and stutters. Now they are actually, kinda, holding classes. However, there were so many strikes and lost days last year, they have to do 2 months of review and finish up last years classes. So three of the classes are being held back this way, the oldest class left to middle school, and now my principle has a class of equivelent 1st graders.
I went up to St. Louis for halloween. It is a costal city up north, past Dakar. A small gathering of other volunteers was also there and in general I had a good time. The beach was beautiful and windy, the city was nice and had good restaurants, and best of all, it was COLD!
Back at site, the first full week of November I was fortunate to host two american exchange students who were studying in Dakar for the semester, and had week long rural visits. The two girls I hosted were cool and I felt actually sorta competent in Serere translating for them and showing them around the various exciting areas of the village.
On that tuesday we went and helped out in the local health hut with the nun that comes weekly to give out medicine. I hadent really been in the hut before to help out cause i figured the little french woman would want privacy, but it was pretty interesting. Most of the cases were apparently malaria.
Also on tuesday, that evening the neiboring families all through togther a dance circle with druming, some singing and lots of confusion, very fun. After, we crashed in my hut and tuned in for hourly election results on my shortwave on the bbc. They were pretty tired but I caught some early state predictions through 200+ electoral votes, to the consession speech and then most of the acceptance speech. Needless to say, I didnt actually sleep much that night. The mice also decided to have parties everynight, keeping us all up, but with the help of my dad, their fun may be over soon. The rest of the week we were all very excited about the Obama win and many of the villagers congradulated us too.
Also, through this week and all of this past one, there have been french people in my village every morning. I think it is some kind of french aid-service thingy, but about a dozen, mostly young, very pale, french men were in the village helping to build a wall around the kindergarden's yard, also encompasing the church and the health hut and the big gnarly shade tree. I tried to stay out of their hair for thier african-experience, and really i guess they did a pretty good job of it.
On Saturday, the students wanted to go and see joal before going back to dakar and i went too as I hadnt really had the oportunity to spend time down there yet. Joal is about 40km south of me on the coast and we toured the island of Fadiouth, which is made out of shells and is home to many serere speakers. That day we also saw the french group again also on tour of the island.
This week I have spent more time observing and helping classes in the school. I took a 2 day trip to Mbour though to help work in the garden of the urban-ag volunteer who is based here. Another PCV came down from dakar and the three of us got Jen's garden looking not too bad for two days of work.
Now, this weekend is mbour time again, a couple of birthdays is a good ocasion to get volunteers together and perhaps there will be pizza and cake somwhere in these two days.
My next big trip is to go up north for thanksgiving, they say the desert is cooling dow up there so maybe it will not feel like a summer feast.
Boo o pam!
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Befores and Afters
Ok, not really a legitimate post but that can come at a later date. in the meantime some village before and after images:
May 13, 2008 : day after install
August 1, 2008 : before leaving for IST
August 28, 2008 : upon returning from IST
September 24, 2008 : regained some control over my yard
May 30, 2008 : Big ole tree up north of the village
September 5, 2008 : Fields of millet, beans and peanut
May 30, 2008 : unplanted church fields next to the kindergarden
September 22, 2008 : church group planted beans
May 30, 2008 : Looking west next to primary school
September 22, 2008 : watermelons and weeds
Saturday, October 18, 2008
A Week, Mostly the Same, Mostly Different
First off, i wanna say howdy to those who actually are reading this blog, i feel like i have been useing it too much to keep myself sane and not really thinking about those on the outside who are just getting their picture of me, senegal and my service from this little, quickly and rarely written in and poorly thought through journal of my life in the past few months. I really just noticed that there have been comments on my entries and i have failed to reply to them or anything so in the future i will try to be more observant. Feel free to send me any questions or comments or anything about anything. i swear, i get to a cyber and my mind goes blank for anything actually reasonable to put down, that and the power is always going out. anyway, on with the entry:
I thought i would give, as best i could, an account of the events of this past week. It has not been a typical week for me, though at the same time, there has not really been any 'typical week', since i have been here, constant adventures and all, so i thought it would be entertaining at least to write it all down. I think i may end up writing an awful lot, but this is certainly not even close to all the entertaining, frustrating, boring, busy, ordinary and rediculous things that i did ove the course of those days.
Sunday- after taking my time to get up, i had breakfast in my hut, cereal and a two month old newsweek magazine, i made my way out to the spot that i have found my self going to again and again in the village. It is a few ancient logs and a big concrete stone arranged under a relatively small neem tree out in the middle of the village central, what could be called 'the village square' if i were in a silly mood, an area of cleared sandy flat ground in amonst two of our big baobab trees. It being sunday is of no consequence to anyone but the catholics of course so most people were already out in the fields harvesting millet, or else at the church. This left a group of late teen to early twentys-ish boys, sitting under the trees with me. As i could have expected with the group the conversation went from the names of objects that they happened to be holding, to teaching me the names for all the body parts they could think of, and urged me to give them the english versions. not my favorite game in the world, but i dutifully wrote everything down on my serere writing pad i keep with me, much to their delight. In the afternoon i was sent out to go harvest with some of my brothers who had left earlier. It is amazing how lost one can get in a millet field, and how evidently allergic i am to everything in said millet field.
Monday- The 'first day of school'. I got to the my primary school just about 8 when it was supposed to begin, some students were sitting out front and a door to one class was open. Inside i found the school principal busy in a notebook with something. He pulled out a chair and suggested i sit outside, sure. At this point i dont yet have any 'work' to do but i am supposed to be building a rapport with the teachers, seeing how they do things, help with what i can and observe and understand whata good place for myself and the projects i hope to do. Eventually some of the kids went in too, helped him straighten out the classroom, swept the floor and whatnot, and then he joined me outside. Another teacher came at about this time and he had gone into his classroom, organized some things and left again. Clearly, no class would be held today, the children had all gone off elsewhere as well. A couple village fathers came up and talked with the principal for a while and i listened in, mostly just talking about who will be in what class, how old kids are, why certain ones were held back, and eventually they left. The principal left by 11 and I decided to walk a small loop around the village to see what other folks were up to. I found a group of mostly the church group older guys sitting around the big tree in a recently cleared and burned and raked field by the church. Horse carts, or sarets, were bringing up loads of sand and dumping them next to the cleared space. Whats going on, i ask. A chicken coup, they say. Right. Sitting with them for a few minutes and we go from words for how to say things carried by cart, to things carried by head - 'rohandoox', to things carried by hand - 'seetoox', to things carried on ones shoulder - 'gondoox', to then unexpctedly and without provication into names for certain body parts again, for the second time in as many days, whatever. I go along and write them all down again, the old men think it is possibly the funniest thing ever, and well, maybe it is. A little after noon, as i am getting ready to head back for my mid-day bath, a series of police motorcycles roll by, slowly, along the big road bordering the village. Then two bicycles with racers, and about a minute later, a whole pack of bicycle racers followed by their whole motocade of support vehicles and film crews. Then all the traffic that was backed up from the race, and then, a few minutes later, a lone cyclist trying to catch up, clearly not having a good day. I dont know the serere word for 'that was odd' but i sure wanted to say it about then, wierd. I am sure those with news and internet time could probably have told me what was going on.
Tuesday- Back to school in the morning, to find the principal and one other teacher, a different one than from monday. They busied them selves with some organizing, cleaning type stuff, i offered to help but ended up just sitting outside again playing with the kids. I tried to make small talk with the principal, something i still have not mastered in serere. at one point i tried to ask how ramadan went and i got a mini rant on teachers strikes, right. They left again by 10 and I was back to the village center to chat with the old guys, as is my usual. After lunch they asked me for two things, I bought tea and sugar for the men who help me everyday with serere and we had three rounds while i took out my national geographic world map that i found in my hut when i moved in. People ask me all the time, which way is america (they often point east when the refer to it), whether america is next to the ocean, how far i grew up from new york and where is the capitol of america, and what exactly a north and south and latin america are and if they are all one country. One of the first and loudest comments by many of the men was 'geke a ref senegal? ahh, kaa neew!' -that is senegal, it is so small! I said it is only a little small and it is really nice. then they had me name surrounding countries and continents and point out any places that they had heard of, pretty much new york, the u.s., france, spain, russia and japan. They were impressed that america has TWO oceans, neat, you must eat lots of fish, eh? After this, the men dispersed and I went over to a group of compounds that is always a source of entertainment. After a little while, i pulled out my frisbee and had a quick impromptu three way throwing game with a kid who is a bit goofy and always laughing, and a kid who is deaf but always very intent on communicating with me. The deaf kid ended up being better at the game then either of us, and i dont think he had ever thrown a frisbee before.
Wednesday- I was told at some point earlier that week that on wednesday the first lady, President Wade's wife, would be comming to sandiara, the town 5km east of me. That morning it had drizzled and everything was dewy and i got up early in hopes to leave with my dad, but he left before i could finish my breakfast, and my younger mom and aunt asked me to wait for them so we could all go together. Before we left i went and greeted the principal who was sitting outside the school by himself. Supposedly, the school should start up next week, he says. In sandiara, i quickly find out that there is a new middle school opening, and it is a dedication ceremony, beyond that, i am still not sure what was going on. Some speeches, some music, some dancing, some award or prize giving to students with paticular achievements that i did not quite catch, and a variety of other... stuff... that day could be its own long entry and this one is already pretty long. Needless to say, i was not aware before going that the first lady of senegal was a little old white french lady, but the senegalese seem to love her. In the evening big dark clouds rolled in from the east threatening rain that we havent had for over two weeks, but like the village has some kind of repulsion field the clouds split above us and in the evening the stars come out over head while lighning flashes both to the north and to the south. I go to bed fearing that the rainy season is really over for good, just when i was getting used to it, but then is promptly pours for a couple hours that night.
Thursday- I wait for a while for anyone to come, and i think maybe no one will. The principal in out buying class materials for the kids that i think maybe he recieves somehow or maybe it is jst the village that gives him the money. Eventually a teacher comes opens his class and kids go in, i follow and sit in the back. My french really sucks at this point and my wolof is not much better, but essentially he had the older kids and was going over who was in what class and why and how old everyone was and what materials they needed and what the school schedule was going to be. It wasnt really a class, just an info session, and i spent much of the time smashing these infuriating stinging insects that dont really have any equivilent that i know of in the states. The session lasts just over an hour and afterward i headed to sit with the men again who tell me that i missed out on a big group harvesting thing that morning where a bunch of people all got together and helped clear a large area of millet field. I guess i am sad i missed that though the school thing was important too and i probably wouldnt have been that much help in the harvesting, i understand the technique, i am just several times slower than everyone else at it.
Friday- Get up to the village super foggy, like visibility of 100 meters foggy, very cool. almost think to put on a long sleve shirt for the day if it will be even a little chilly for a while. with no sence of humor, the sun burns its way through in a hurry and the day was blazingly hot and not a llittle humid, gross. Wait at the school for a long time and almost decide that no one is coming before the principal shows up with a group of kids in toe helfting the notebookds and things he had bought in a rice sack. I sit with him for a while again, get the word for foggy in serere- 'kaa lima', and he gives out some pieces of chalk to a group of excited giggling girls, probably 7-8ish who precede to mark up any surface they can find with designs. save it for class, he says, but we both know that they probably wont. Classes start on monday, he assures me. After a leasurly lunch-time break, i go back out to the 'square' armed with my frisbee, hoping to stir up some trouble. Not many people out but a few very young kids. try to teach them to throw and catch which is very entertaining. the disc poseses some kind of magical properties that make them scream whenever it is in the air or on the ground or flying at them or after they have thrown it. it is like i have taught them to hurl lightning bolts, only they dont see it as the least bit dangerous, and before i repeatedly demonstrated the flying ability, they insisted on standing perhaps two or three feet from me, often smacking me or one of the other kids in the face while trying to throw it and everyone erupts into laughter as they chase it and try again. Pretty hysterical. Soon, some older kids come along to monoploize the game and it ends up with me running around barefoot throwing back and forth to two or three other kids who are pretty quick learners. How to teach them a game like ultimate though, well that may be beyond my abilities, maybe in a year.
Saturday- and that bring us to today. lets see, slept-in, well, got up at 740, basically sleeping in but the frog army that storms my room each morning makes it hard to actually sleep past 7. leasurly breakfast of cereal and a month and a half old newsweek magazine. then hopped an alham, big scarry mercedes busses several decades old, and got to mbour this morning and have been interneting my time away right here. oh and had lunch, yassa poulet- chicken in an onion sauce over rice and a couple sprites, refreshing.
Gosh, that really isnt even the half of what all happend this week, but i guess those are the highlights, the rest will find its way into other journals or letters or things here and there. I think i may add a list of things or two to the sidebar of this blog, so look out!
Njookanyong!
I thought i would give, as best i could, an account of the events of this past week. It has not been a typical week for me, though at the same time, there has not really been any 'typical week', since i have been here, constant adventures and all, so i thought it would be entertaining at least to write it all down. I think i may end up writing an awful lot, but this is certainly not even close to all the entertaining, frustrating, boring, busy, ordinary and rediculous things that i did ove the course of those days.
Sunday- after taking my time to get up, i had breakfast in my hut, cereal and a two month old newsweek magazine, i made my way out to the spot that i have found my self going to again and again in the village. It is a few ancient logs and a big concrete stone arranged under a relatively small neem tree out in the middle of the village central, what could be called 'the village square' if i were in a silly mood, an area of cleared sandy flat ground in amonst two of our big baobab trees. It being sunday is of no consequence to anyone but the catholics of course so most people were already out in the fields harvesting millet, or else at the church. This left a group of late teen to early twentys-ish boys, sitting under the trees with me. As i could have expected with the group the conversation went from the names of objects that they happened to be holding, to teaching me the names for all the body parts they could think of, and urged me to give them the english versions. not my favorite game in the world, but i dutifully wrote everything down on my serere writing pad i keep with me, much to their delight. In the afternoon i was sent out to go harvest with some of my brothers who had left earlier. It is amazing how lost one can get in a millet field, and how evidently allergic i am to everything in said millet field.
Monday- The 'first day of school'. I got to the my primary school just about 8 when it was supposed to begin, some students were sitting out front and a door to one class was open. Inside i found the school principal busy in a notebook with something. He pulled out a chair and suggested i sit outside, sure. At this point i dont yet have any 'work' to do but i am supposed to be building a rapport with the teachers, seeing how they do things, help with what i can and observe and understand whata good place for myself and the projects i hope to do. Eventually some of the kids went in too, helped him straighten out the classroom, swept the floor and whatnot, and then he joined me outside. Another teacher came at about this time and he had gone into his classroom, organized some things and left again. Clearly, no class would be held today, the children had all gone off elsewhere as well. A couple village fathers came up and talked with the principal for a while and i listened in, mostly just talking about who will be in what class, how old kids are, why certain ones were held back, and eventually they left. The principal left by 11 and I decided to walk a small loop around the village to see what other folks were up to. I found a group of mostly the church group older guys sitting around the big tree in a recently cleared and burned and raked field by the church. Horse carts, or sarets, were bringing up loads of sand and dumping them next to the cleared space. Whats going on, i ask. A chicken coup, they say. Right. Sitting with them for a few minutes and we go from words for how to say things carried by cart, to things carried by head - 'rohandoox', to things carried by hand - 'seetoox', to things carried on ones shoulder - 'gondoox', to then unexpctedly and without provication into names for certain body parts again, for the second time in as many days, whatever. I go along and write them all down again, the old men think it is possibly the funniest thing ever, and well, maybe it is. A little after noon, as i am getting ready to head back for my mid-day bath, a series of police motorcycles roll by, slowly, along the big road bordering the village. Then two bicycles with racers, and about a minute later, a whole pack of bicycle racers followed by their whole motocade of support vehicles and film crews. Then all the traffic that was backed up from the race, and then, a few minutes later, a lone cyclist trying to catch up, clearly not having a good day. I dont know the serere word for 'that was odd' but i sure wanted to say it about then, wierd. I am sure those with news and internet time could probably have told me what was going on.
Tuesday- Back to school in the morning, to find the principal and one other teacher, a different one than from monday. They busied them selves with some organizing, cleaning type stuff, i offered to help but ended up just sitting outside again playing with the kids. I tried to make small talk with the principal, something i still have not mastered in serere. at one point i tried to ask how ramadan went and i got a mini rant on teachers strikes, right. They left again by 10 and I was back to the village center to chat with the old guys, as is my usual. After lunch they asked me for two things, I bought tea and sugar for the men who help me everyday with serere and we had three rounds while i took out my national geographic world map that i found in my hut when i moved in. People ask me all the time, which way is america (they often point east when the refer to it), whether america is next to the ocean, how far i grew up from new york and where is the capitol of america, and what exactly a north and south and latin america are and if they are all one country. One of the first and loudest comments by many of the men was 'geke a ref senegal? ahh, kaa neew!' -that is senegal, it is so small! I said it is only a little small and it is really nice. then they had me name surrounding countries and continents and point out any places that they had heard of, pretty much new york, the u.s., france, spain, russia and japan. They were impressed that america has TWO oceans, neat, you must eat lots of fish, eh? After this, the men dispersed and I went over to a group of compounds that is always a source of entertainment. After a little while, i pulled out my frisbee and had a quick impromptu three way throwing game with a kid who is a bit goofy and always laughing, and a kid who is deaf but always very intent on communicating with me. The deaf kid ended up being better at the game then either of us, and i dont think he had ever thrown a frisbee before.
Wednesday- I was told at some point earlier that week that on wednesday the first lady, President Wade's wife, would be comming to sandiara, the town 5km east of me. That morning it had drizzled and everything was dewy and i got up early in hopes to leave with my dad, but he left before i could finish my breakfast, and my younger mom and aunt asked me to wait for them so we could all go together. Before we left i went and greeted the principal who was sitting outside the school by himself. Supposedly, the school should start up next week, he says. In sandiara, i quickly find out that there is a new middle school opening, and it is a dedication ceremony, beyond that, i am still not sure what was going on. Some speeches, some music, some dancing, some award or prize giving to students with paticular achievements that i did not quite catch, and a variety of other... stuff... that day could be its own long entry and this one is already pretty long. Needless to say, i was not aware before going that the first lady of senegal was a little old white french lady, but the senegalese seem to love her. In the evening big dark clouds rolled in from the east threatening rain that we havent had for over two weeks, but like the village has some kind of repulsion field the clouds split above us and in the evening the stars come out over head while lighning flashes both to the north and to the south. I go to bed fearing that the rainy season is really over for good, just when i was getting used to it, but then is promptly pours for a couple hours that night.
Thursday- I wait for a while for anyone to come, and i think maybe no one will. The principal in out buying class materials for the kids that i think maybe he recieves somehow or maybe it is jst the village that gives him the money. Eventually a teacher comes opens his class and kids go in, i follow and sit in the back. My french really sucks at this point and my wolof is not much better, but essentially he had the older kids and was going over who was in what class and why and how old everyone was and what materials they needed and what the school schedule was going to be. It wasnt really a class, just an info session, and i spent much of the time smashing these infuriating stinging insects that dont really have any equivilent that i know of in the states. The session lasts just over an hour and afterward i headed to sit with the men again who tell me that i missed out on a big group harvesting thing that morning where a bunch of people all got together and helped clear a large area of millet field. I guess i am sad i missed that though the school thing was important too and i probably wouldnt have been that much help in the harvesting, i understand the technique, i am just several times slower than everyone else at it.
Friday- Get up to the village super foggy, like visibility of 100 meters foggy, very cool. almost think to put on a long sleve shirt for the day if it will be even a little chilly for a while. with no sence of humor, the sun burns its way through in a hurry and the day was blazingly hot and not a llittle humid, gross. Wait at the school for a long time and almost decide that no one is coming before the principal shows up with a group of kids in toe helfting the notebookds and things he had bought in a rice sack. I sit with him for a while again, get the word for foggy in serere- 'kaa lima', and he gives out some pieces of chalk to a group of excited giggling girls, probably 7-8ish who precede to mark up any surface they can find with designs. save it for class, he says, but we both know that they probably wont. Classes start on monday, he assures me. After a leasurly lunch-time break, i go back out to the 'square' armed with my frisbee, hoping to stir up some trouble. Not many people out but a few very young kids. try to teach them to throw and catch which is very entertaining. the disc poseses some kind of magical properties that make them scream whenever it is in the air or on the ground or flying at them or after they have thrown it. it is like i have taught them to hurl lightning bolts, only they dont see it as the least bit dangerous, and before i repeatedly demonstrated the flying ability, they insisted on standing perhaps two or three feet from me, often smacking me or one of the other kids in the face while trying to throw it and everyone erupts into laughter as they chase it and try again. Pretty hysterical. Soon, some older kids come along to monoploize the game and it ends up with me running around barefoot throwing back and forth to two or three other kids who are pretty quick learners. How to teach them a game like ultimate though, well that may be beyond my abilities, maybe in a year.
Saturday- and that bring us to today. lets see, slept-in, well, got up at 740, basically sleeping in but the frog army that storms my room each morning makes it hard to actually sleep past 7. leasurly breakfast of cereal and a month and a half old newsweek magazine. then hopped an alham, big scarry mercedes busses several decades old, and got to mbour this morning and have been interneting my time away right here. oh and had lunch, yassa poulet- chicken in an onion sauce over rice and a couple sprites, refreshing.
Gosh, that really isnt even the half of what all happend this week, but i guess those are the highlights, the rest will find its way into other journals or letters or things here and there. I think i may add a list of things or two to the sidebar of this blog, so look out!
Njookanyong!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
October, ...already?
I dont think i have ever sat down and written everything that I have wanted to in an email or blog entry since comming to this country. Oh well, such is senegal, with a little luck i can get through this one here today.
Ramadan went, and it was ok. It is nice now that things are reutrning to thier 'usual' rhythm, not that there was ever really a pattern to the days. Like i had said before, I fasted for three days, not really anything crazy, the people in the village either thought it was good or they just didnt understand why I was doing it in the first place, or they often thought both at the same time. Otherwise, I had lunch on my own mostly, or with the kids and folks not fasting and didnt really do much.
The millet harvest has begun gradually. I went out with my brothers one day and it was really cool out in the fields with them and cutting millet candles from the stalks until my body gradually informed me that I was, in fact, allergic to something, no, everything that was in that field. I went out in the morning and the afternoon, had nice cool baths after each, sneezed my head off all day, my arms and hands were red and itchy. After dinner I had a benadryll and passed out.
I also have gone out to pick beans with my mom and aunt. That was pretty fun too and a good bonding moment with them. I am, as a matter of fact, not allergic to much in the bean fields, but my nose likes to run for fun anyway. While out there a couple peanut plants had been uprooted so we helped ourselves to the raw, fresh, moist peanuts. They taste and have a texture kinda like water chestnuts at that point, but they were a cute treat. The official peanut harvest doesnt begin for a little while yet and i am just trying to help with what i can, trying to learn as much as i can about the daily life month by month of the people of Louly.
Then Korite was last week, after the fast had ended. My family wanted me to dress up nicely so I ended up wearing my sabador (big fancy green outfit hangning next to my door in picture in my hut), but then once i was out and about, not really anyone else was wearing anything nearly as special. I guess the sereres are just too chill. I mean, dont get me wrong, they were not in just any old dirtly clothes, ;ostly clean t shirts and pants with only a few holes, i just kinda felt even more awkward than usual. The food was good though, the first time i have had chicken in the village, and it was a pretty fun day.
The next day was a funeral though in Mbour and so, dressed again in my fancy outfit i went out to sit awkwardly again, but at least with people just as dressed up as me. The guy who had died was a great-uncle of mine and they say he was around 100 years old. Also, his father's name was the same as my senegalese name, Ndiouma, so the constant joke around me was that my son had died and i should be more upset and go see the burial at the cemetery. I thought that was a bit much, but i offered my concolences and made small talk as best i could and made it back home in one piece.
Since then, only mild craziness in the village this weekend. I introduced the children to my frisbee, which has gotten the name 'ndig kaga', simply meaning 'that thing'. The older kids mostly think it is silly and takes away from valuable football time, the younger kids think it is hilarious and love to imitate the silly things that i do. I cant really kick a soccerball straight to save my life so i feel it could be a worthwile alternative. Then, at the summit of the random mountain, a group of students doing an exchange program in dakar came to stay in my village, at my house even, for the weekend. Most were senegalese students but two who came were americans. While they were supposed to be in a 'french emmersion' i was able to steal time with them to speak in english. They were really cool and it was an interesting diversion in the village and to some extent i got to help show them around and talk to them about life in rural senegal. We also had really good food in the village, and even a drum-dance thingy on saturday night that was really fun.
Gosh, well now, school is about to start next monday and i am getting started on some potential community projects - latrines may be a highlight in my future- and i am also starting in on a serere dictionary -so far over 200 verbs and the nouns are presenting many a challenge. It is still hot here, but the evenings have been noticably cool as made evidence by the lack of sweat-soaked sheets. Rains and winds and weeds and bugs glalore. I remain generally healthy and serere is gradually getting easier. French and wolof are whole other stories though. No dice.
well, i made it a whole two hours and no power outage, yay!
Peace.
Ramadan went, and it was ok. It is nice now that things are reutrning to thier 'usual' rhythm, not that there was ever really a pattern to the days. Like i had said before, I fasted for three days, not really anything crazy, the people in the village either thought it was good or they just didnt understand why I was doing it in the first place, or they often thought both at the same time. Otherwise, I had lunch on my own mostly, or with the kids and folks not fasting and didnt really do much.
The millet harvest has begun gradually. I went out with my brothers one day and it was really cool out in the fields with them and cutting millet candles from the stalks until my body gradually informed me that I was, in fact, allergic to something, no, everything that was in that field. I went out in the morning and the afternoon, had nice cool baths after each, sneezed my head off all day, my arms and hands were red and itchy. After dinner I had a benadryll and passed out.
I also have gone out to pick beans with my mom and aunt. That was pretty fun too and a good bonding moment with them. I am, as a matter of fact, not allergic to much in the bean fields, but my nose likes to run for fun anyway. While out there a couple peanut plants had been uprooted so we helped ourselves to the raw, fresh, moist peanuts. They taste and have a texture kinda like water chestnuts at that point, but they were a cute treat. The official peanut harvest doesnt begin for a little while yet and i am just trying to help with what i can, trying to learn as much as i can about the daily life month by month of the people of Louly.
Then Korite was last week, after the fast had ended. My family wanted me to dress up nicely so I ended up wearing my sabador (big fancy green outfit hangning next to my door in picture in my hut), but then once i was out and about, not really anyone else was wearing anything nearly as special. I guess the sereres are just too chill. I mean, dont get me wrong, they were not in just any old dirtly clothes, ;ostly clean t shirts and pants with only a few holes, i just kinda felt even more awkward than usual. The food was good though, the first time i have had chicken in the village, and it was a pretty fun day.
The next day was a funeral though in Mbour and so, dressed again in my fancy outfit i went out to sit awkwardly again, but at least with people just as dressed up as me. The guy who had died was a great-uncle of mine and they say he was around 100 years old. Also, his father's name was the same as my senegalese name, Ndiouma, so the constant joke around me was that my son had died and i should be more upset and go see the burial at the cemetery. I thought that was a bit much, but i offered my concolences and made small talk as best i could and made it back home in one piece.
Since then, only mild craziness in the village this weekend. I introduced the children to my frisbee, which has gotten the name 'ndig kaga', simply meaning 'that thing'. The older kids mostly think it is silly and takes away from valuable football time, the younger kids think it is hilarious and love to imitate the silly things that i do. I cant really kick a soccerball straight to save my life so i feel it could be a worthwile alternative. Then, at the summit of the random mountain, a group of students doing an exchange program in dakar came to stay in my village, at my house even, for the weekend. Most were senegalese students but two who came were americans. While they were supposed to be in a 'french emmersion' i was able to steal time with them to speak in english. They were really cool and it was an interesting diversion in the village and to some extent i got to help show them around and talk to them about life in rural senegal. We also had really good food in the village, and even a drum-dance thingy on saturday night that was really fun.
Gosh, well now, school is about to start next monday and i am getting started on some potential community projects - latrines may be a highlight in my future- and i am also starting in on a serere dictionary -so far over 200 verbs and the nouns are presenting many a challenge. It is still hot here, but the evenings have been noticably cool as made evidence by the lack of sweat-soaked sheets. Rains and winds and weeds and bugs glalore. I remain generally healthy and serere is gradually getting easier. French and wolof are whole other stories though. No dice.
well, i made it a whole two hours and no power outage, yay!
Peace.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Well, lets see, whats been going on in Louly...
Well Ramadan is still in full swing. I hadent planned on it but I decided that I would go ahead with what my family and my village asked repeatedly, following the example of the all powerful Latyr and see how fasting goes for a few days. I started thinking it would just be for the day but then ended up making an over the weekend three day thing. I made up my mind that I was not doing it because latyr did it, and according to my village, so did his visiting grandparents. I was not doing it even just because they kept asking me why i wasnt everyday. i was doing it for myself. and because it is what is on peoples minds right now and having a better understanding of one small aspect of the crazy things that seem to happen in my village might make other things easier. also it is a good conversation point and i am trying to develope my serere conversation skills. but mostly i was doing it for my own self and as a test of my own will.
Not that three days is really any big thing, and i just sat around each day under the baobabs with the other fasting older men and catholics too.
POWER OUTAGE! Auto-saving and backdating to the rescue!
Well Ramadan is still in full swing. I hadent planned on it but I decided that I would go ahead with what my family and my village asked repeatedly, following the example of the all powerful Latyr and see how fasting goes for a few days. I started thinking it would just be for the day but then ended up making an over the weekend three day thing. I made up my mind that I was not doing it because latyr did it, and according to my village, so did his visiting grandparents. I was not doing it even just because they kept asking me why i wasnt everyday. i was doing it for myself. and because it is what is on peoples minds right now and having a better understanding of one small aspect of the crazy things that seem to happen in my village might make other things easier. also it is a good conversation point and i am trying to develope my serere conversation skills. but mostly i was doing it for my own self and as a test of my own will.
Not that three days is really any big thing, and i just sat around each day under the baobabs with the other fasting older men and catholics too.
POWER OUTAGE! Auto-saving and backdating to the rescue!
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Inwe Maufka Soom?
Well its the rainy season here in Louly all right. That means all kinds of fun things.
The rain only cools things off a little for the period immediately following the storm and then it is just as hot and now super humid. There seem to be weeds growing out of anything that they can find to grow on. All the standing water makes it a great time for the mosquitos. Clothes, fabric and my whole hut seem to be molding into a gross smelling mush. The winds that come with the hardest rains knocked down my fences and pushed over some of my trees, twice. My village seems to have all manner of reptile and amphibial life that seems to simply spring out of the ground when it rains (as the villagers verify). Also this is the month of Ramadan and that means about half of my village is fasting durring the day, making them cranky, tired and appear to be going through caffeen withdrawl from lack of tea. I am not really sure what if anything that i can do useful this month.
That being said, it is good to be back in the village. While school starts next month, I dont really feel I have much super productive to do till then. I have helped people farm a few times now and after that and the weeds in my backyard, I am fairly tanned and my hands are fairly rough and blistered. As my village is about a third Catholic, I have been trying to hang out with them lately, qs they drink tea durring the day, promise to make me lunch one of these days, and dont continually ask me why i am not fasting.
I have concidered it, and i may try to fast for a day or more at some point this month. It just doesnt feel like it would be something that would do anything positive or form better relations with people in my village. They know i am not muslim, as others in the village are as well and as i dont pray or do anything else like they do i dont see what the point would be. other volunteers do it and they say that they bond better with thier families... i guess i will see and weigh it out. i just also feel like it would be a bad move to not drink water for an entire day and still do stuff. or i should just do nothing all day, and feel unproductive and even worse. i guess its just one of the many things i gotta get a better handle on.
geez, never enough time to do anything at these cybers.
The rain only cools things off a little for the period immediately following the storm and then it is just as hot and now super humid. There seem to be weeds growing out of anything that they can find to grow on. All the standing water makes it a great time for the mosquitos. Clothes, fabric and my whole hut seem to be molding into a gross smelling mush. The winds that come with the hardest rains knocked down my fences and pushed over some of my trees, twice. My village seems to have all manner of reptile and amphibial life that seems to simply spring out of the ground when it rains (as the villagers verify). Also this is the month of Ramadan and that means about half of my village is fasting durring the day, making them cranky, tired and appear to be going through caffeen withdrawl from lack of tea. I am not really sure what if anything that i can do useful this month.
That being said, it is good to be back in the village. While school starts next month, I dont really feel I have much super productive to do till then. I have helped people farm a few times now and after that and the weeds in my backyard, I am fairly tanned and my hands are fairly rough and blistered. As my village is about a third Catholic, I have been trying to hang out with them lately, qs they drink tea durring the day, promise to make me lunch one of these days, and dont continually ask me why i am not fasting.
I have concidered it, and i may try to fast for a day or more at some point this month. It just doesnt feel like it would be something that would do anything positive or form better relations with people in my village. They know i am not muslim, as others in the village are as well and as i dont pray or do anything else like they do i dont see what the point would be. other volunteers do it and they say that they bond better with thier families... i guess i will see and weigh it out. i just also feel like it would be a bad move to not drink water for an entire day and still do stuff. or i should just do nothing all day, and feel unproductive and even worse. i guess its just one of the many things i gotta get a better handle on.
geez, never enough time to do anything at these cybers.
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