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...
Thursday, September 10, 2009
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.
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