Thursday, February 25, 2010
A Little Ditty About Forgiveness
A couple of weeks ago a lot of personally and monetarily valued things were stolen from me. Cameras, phone, favorite shirts, money, and so on. The roughest part by far being the loss of my notebook containing four months of notes and all of the studies that I had completed in Noflaye thus far. The first two days were a bit rough as thoughts of all the time and money that were lost and would have to be used in order to correct the situation played a loop in my head. I may well have been the person who was hit most directly, but what mattered more was the time lost that my friends put into helping me do interviews, or Rachel having to help me figure everything out. It really wasn’t about being angry at any person, or even the events. More than anything, it was a stretch to try to actually forgive myself for not thinking of all the “what if’s” in the world, of what I could have done better. Well, in all honesty, that wouldn’t have been possible before. If this had happened when I first arrived, I would have beaten myself up for days on end, and I can only hope that I wouldn’t have let it define my year. Somehow though, it turns out that I could, and did forgive myself. It’s a bit surreal to realize that a few short months have created such a shift in me. So I leave you with my friend John Mellancamp, for oh yes, life does, in fact, go on.
Monday, February 22, 2010
February Update
So random events that have happened of late:
Got robbed at the beach. Don’t worry, im okay, just lost a ton of things- backpack, four months of notes, cameras, money, phone.etc. The adventure of getting back included: somehow explaining to a Pular herder/ charcoal creater that we (me and one guy and girl, French) had gotten robbed in Wolof, trekking through the forest following him, getting to the village of Kayak to ‘declare’ the theft, which magically happened at the exact same moment that university students studying the salinity of the waters around lac rose came by to check the well in the village, riding around doing their studies with them until 9ish at night, getting dropped off at the village des tortues, and then using the computer and skype to finally text Rachel and tell her what happened, for no one had credit to call her (or phones or money for that matter), so she had to call the village phone. And then Tons couldn’t even come out to visit me from Dakar because there was a gas shortage and literally no gas in Dakar. Epic.
Restarted all my studies in Noflaye because they were all lost in the Robbery
Finally have a lock on my door again after we had to break it open (because my keys were stolen). It was annoying because the door would open all the time when I wasn’t home, letting in more bugs, weave piecies, onion peels, ash, and other such things.
My host father gave me a jar of Nutella to make me happy after the fact. It helped, I wont lie.
Have now taught the games “down by the river” and “duck, duck, goose” to the kids in the English club in Rufisque. The latter was a result of only having 30 minutues left in class, and we were done with playing down by the river. The advantage of the game is that it only consists of two English words. They also weren’t familiar with the word for goose in French, so they just think that it’s a very large duck.
While walking into Noflaye to start my studies I saw six women, and one kid. Three of them were packing babies ( I mean they had them on, as in strapped to their backs. it’s the way that babies are ported around there- as if they were hugging your back, and then you tie a piece of cloth around them so they stay that way.). They all had passive packs of sticks ontop of their heads as well. For some reason I think of them as a baby toting, stick brandishing, mob.
I like to learn during breakfast. For example, last week I was talking to my friend Pap during breakfast the day after Valentines day. So: women who happen to have large butts and are older are supposed to have massive gris-gris (like, leather waist bracelets) that they wear all the time. Theyre supposed to be a sign of experience, and in his words “all the bosses like to have sex with them.” Another direct quote (that has been supported by many other people, cough, men) is that “ the way to do it is to have two girlfriends- one in each separate quaarter of the town, because then you can hit them both up” (in the context of Valentines day).
Its also taboo to talk about sex with your children, which is one of the reasons that there are so many preventable events- teen pregnancy, spread of disease, etc. For example, Victoria has a cousin in her host family who has a little 8 year old boy. He had sex with a 13 year old girl. They had a baby this year. The family showed her a picture of the “happy family”-8 year old boy, 13 year old mother, new born baby-and commented on how adorable it was. I personally associate adorable with things like baby pandas who sneeze, my cat, the kids I coach, or certain acts of kindness. I associate nausea and anger with situations like that.
Just had our monthly meeting in Saint Louis, and it was amazing. Side note: I was sick before the monthly meeting and was doing a lot better. Now, Im super sick again. But it was all worth it. don’t worry, Ill be good as new in no time.
Well Matt, Alec, and I had to go to Dakar on Wednesday so that we could sleep over at rachels- for we were to leave super early in the morning in a sept-place- a clando that fits seven passengers and the driver- up to SL. Alec and I went to this place called the Chinease mission where the chinease are teaching Senegalese people farming techniques (and who Alec is friends with because he speaks mandarin, and his parents are chinease), and got a massive amount.. 10poundsish, of green leafy vegetables for dinner. We only got two bok choi, one cabbage, and one leak, and it was all 10 pounds, meaning these were massive vegetables.
On the Diagne Diage up to Dakar Matt had to pee. The word for pee in wolof is sow. The word for milk is sou (like sew). So at a stop Matt talked to the driver and was like “bug na sou, bug na sou….. Bug na sow.” I want some milk, I want some milk…. I gotta pee.” The whole front laughed hysterically- especially as the driver was looking at him with the look of “I don’t care if you want milk and it wouldn’t matter because I don’t have any… Im a driver“. They also watched him when he got off to make sure that he was doing it right, even pointing out which part of the wall he should go to. Hilarious.
In Dakar- went to the first post office in fann- and once again they told me that my package had been moved to the main post office. I then went through an extensive search and calling journey to find out if there was actually a package, or if it was just another second delivery slip for the packages that I had already gotten. Turns out that I actually had a package. Raced downtown with a very nice taximan, got there in time, got my package from Kailee (!), and my taximan even waited for me (I asked him to because he actually gave me the right rate even though I was white), back to the baobob center. I plan to share one pack of oreo’s with my family so that they can taste them. With the other packs I will then savor them with secret delight. They also don’t believe me when I say that we have peanut butter in America, so now I have an example of american peanut butter to show them!!! Great success. I also feel like I have way to many goodies now, and so little time to eat them. I finally ate my first packet of oatmeal while I was sick, and it was magical. While waiting for Matt to get his deoderant, Alec and I ransacked the book sections of the Baobab center. I believe he got over twenty books. I got a couple, but that may be just because I know I can always steal his once he finishes. Don’t worry, we will bring at least most of them back before we leave.
Then we went to Rachels. The night consisted of planning how to cook all of the vegetables and eat her leftovers that wouldn’t keep throughout the trip. So our dinner consited of : scallion pancakes, bok choi and asian cabbage lightly sautéed with garlic and olive oil, a left over bolegnese sauce, chicken soup (which we forgot until we had finished eating sadly), and a potatoe and cheese baked dish which I cant believe I just forgot the name of (potatoe slices with the cheese/cream in between each of them, then baked, whatever, Ill remember one day). It was superb. The sad thing being that because I was sick I had absolutely no appetite. Its okay though, I still ate a ton just because I thought it would be a waste not to take the delicious opportunity.
The sept place ride in the morning was… tight. Alec, Matt, and I squished into the back of a hatchback on the seats that have negative leg room for 3 hours and then some. I got through two of the readings for the monthly meeting, complete with really illegible notes (other than hitting potholes, the car itself actually vibrated at all speed), and only a couple of head smashing potholes.
We actually stayed in a hotel. Rachel warned us that this would be like a mini vacation, and in all honesty it was. There was even hot water (okay, warm, but mainly not cold water), a pool (used once even though I knew it would make me a bit sicker), wi-fi (probably the surrealist thing), a ping pong table (not used because there was not enough time), and such hotel like things. We all felt a bit weird and out of place to be honest. Almost like we were cheating, even if there was nothing to be cheating in.
Day one was taken up travel up until 3, then lunch (Rachel and Tons had to pick up the Sebikotan girls, and Rachel had a doctors appointment in the morning that ran over, yes, I probably got sick from here. Oh well.), a bit of a break, and into Saint Louis as the sun was setting in order to see all the building and do historical walks and such, which was made a bit hard by Rachel having no voice. It was beautiful though, tons and tons of colonial architechture- much of which resembles the old buildings in New Orleans if you want a reference point. But many of which are crumbling down due to lack of funds to restore them. Then went to a Dijbeterie- basically a Senegalese meat restaurant where we all shared this massive plate of grilled lamb. Oh Senegal
Day two was talking about all of our readings. They were superbly interesting- underdevelopment theory, flaw in aid, colonial economic policy, and so on. We also talked about things that we have accomplished and things that still wait for it.
Day three was a visit to Diouje (sp) national park- over 365 species of birds. Tons of videos and pictures and such. Also visited the damn on the Senegal boarder. Rachel wouldn’t let us run across the Mauritania border or even get close to it because it supposedly has new Al Qaeda connections.
Got back yesterday. Smuggled two chocolate croissants. Am currently superbly sick again.
I read the Phantom tollbooth in less than six hours, and it was amazing. Havnt quite decided what I will read next. Probably will actually work on writing letters oh joy.
Looking to set up meetings with Oceanium and UNICEF. That is on the very optimistic side though.
Its absolutely crazy to think that there are only two months left. I feel like I have so much to do and so little time to do them. Yet two months is still pretty long if you think about it.
Now off to read more, or respond to letters. Probably the latter. or write official blgos
Got robbed at the beach. Don’t worry, im okay, just lost a ton of things- backpack, four months of notes, cameras, money, phone.etc. The adventure of getting back included: somehow explaining to a Pular herder/ charcoal creater that we (me and one guy and girl, French) had gotten robbed in Wolof, trekking through the forest following him, getting to the village of Kayak to ‘declare’ the theft, which magically happened at the exact same moment that university students studying the salinity of the waters around lac rose came by to check the well in the village, riding around doing their studies with them until 9ish at night, getting dropped off at the village des tortues, and then using the computer and skype to finally text Rachel and tell her what happened, for no one had credit to call her (or phones or money for that matter), so she had to call the village phone. And then Tons couldn’t even come out to visit me from Dakar because there was a gas shortage and literally no gas in Dakar. Epic.
Restarted all my studies in Noflaye because they were all lost in the Robbery
Finally have a lock on my door again after we had to break it open (because my keys were stolen). It was annoying because the door would open all the time when I wasn’t home, letting in more bugs, weave piecies, onion peels, ash, and other such things.
My host father gave me a jar of Nutella to make me happy after the fact. It helped, I wont lie.
Have now taught the games “down by the river” and “duck, duck, goose” to the kids in the English club in Rufisque. The latter was a result of only having 30 minutues left in class, and we were done with playing down by the river. The advantage of the game is that it only consists of two English words. They also weren’t familiar with the word for goose in French, so they just think that it’s a very large duck.
While walking into Noflaye to start my studies I saw six women, and one kid. Three of them were packing babies ( I mean they had them on, as in strapped to their backs. it’s the way that babies are ported around there- as if they were hugging your back, and then you tie a piece of cloth around them so they stay that way.). They all had passive packs of sticks ontop of their heads as well. For some reason I think of them as a baby toting, stick brandishing, mob.
I like to learn during breakfast. For example, last week I was talking to my friend Pap during breakfast the day after Valentines day. So: women who happen to have large butts and are older are supposed to have massive gris-gris (like, leather waist bracelets) that they wear all the time. Theyre supposed to be a sign of experience, and in his words “all the bosses like to have sex with them.” Another direct quote (that has been supported by many other people, cough, men) is that “ the way to do it is to have two girlfriends- one in each separate quaarter of the town, because then you can hit them both up” (in the context of Valentines day).
Its also taboo to talk about sex with your children, which is one of the reasons that there are so many preventable events- teen pregnancy, spread of disease, etc. For example, Victoria has a cousin in her host family who has a little 8 year old boy. He had sex with a 13 year old girl. They had a baby this year. The family showed her a picture of the “happy family”-8 year old boy, 13 year old mother, new born baby-and commented on how adorable it was. I personally associate adorable with things like baby pandas who sneeze, my cat, the kids I coach, or certain acts of kindness. I associate nausea and anger with situations like that.
Just had our monthly meeting in Saint Louis, and it was amazing. Side note: I was sick before the monthly meeting and was doing a lot better. Now, Im super sick again. But it was all worth it. don’t worry, Ill be good as new in no time.
Well Matt, Alec, and I had to go to Dakar on Wednesday so that we could sleep over at rachels- for we were to leave super early in the morning in a sept-place- a clando that fits seven passengers and the driver- up to SL. Alec and I went to this place called the Chinease mission where the chinease are teaching Senegalese people farming techniques (and who Alec is friends with because he speaks mandarin, and his parents are chinease), and got a massive amount.. 10poundsish, of green leafy vegetables for dinner. We only got two bok choi, one cabbage, and one leak, and it was all 10 pounds, meaning these were massive vegetables.
On the Diagne Diage up to Dakar Matt had to pee. The word for pee in wolof is sow. The word for milk is sou (like sew). So at a stop Matt talked to the driver and was like “bug na sou, bug na sou….. Bug na sow.” I want some milk, I want some milk…. I gotta pee.” The whole front laughed hysterically- especially as the driver was looking at him with the look of “I don’t care if you want milk and it wouldn’t matter because I don’t have any… Im a driver“. They also watched him when he got off to make sure that he was doing it right, even pointing out which part of the wall he should go to. Hilarious.
In Dakar- went to the first post office in fann- and once again they told me that my package had been moved to the main post office. I then went through an extensive search and calling journey to find out if there was actually a package, or if it was just another second delivery slip for the packages that I had already gotten. Turns out that I actually had a package. Raced downtown with a very nice taximan, got there in time, got my package from Kailee (!), and my taximan even waited for me (I asked him to because he actually gave me the right rate even though I was white), back to the baobob center. I plan to share one pack of oreo’s with my family so that they can taste them. With the other packs I will then savor them with secret delight. They also don’t believe me when I say that we have peanut butter in America, so now I have an example of american peanut butter to show them!!! Great success. I also feel like I have way to many goodies now, and so little time to eat them. I finally ate my first packet of oatmeal while I was sick, and it was magical. While waiting for Matt to get his deoderant, Alec and I ransacked the book sections of the Baobab center. I believe he got over twenty books. I got a couple, but that may be just because I know I can always steal his once he finishes. Don’t worry, we will bring at least most of them back before we leave.
Then we went to Rachels. The night consisted of planning how to cook all of the vegetables and eat her leftovers that wouldn’t keep throughout the trip. So our dinner consited of : scallion pancakes, bok choi and asian cabbage lightly sautéed with garlic and olive oil, a left over bolegnese sauce, chicken soup (which we forgot until we had finished eating sadly), and a potatoe and cheese baked dish which I cant believe I just forgot the name of (potatoe slices with the cheese/cream in between each of them, then baked, whatever, Ill remember one day). It was superb. The sad thing being that because I was sick I had absolutely no appetite. Its okay though, I still ate a ton just because I thought it would be a waste not to take the delicious opportunity.
The sept place ride in the morning was… tight. Alec, Matt, and I squished into the back of a hatchback on the seats that have negative leg room for 3 hours and then some. I got through two of the readings for the monthly meeting, complete with really illegible notes (other than hitting potholes, the car itself actually vibrated at all speed), and only a couple of head smashing potholes.
We actually stayed in a hotel. Rachel warned us that this would be like a mini vacation, and in all honesty it was. There was even hot water (okay, warm, but mainly not cold water), a pool (used once even though I knew it would make me a bit sicker), wi-fi (probably the surrealist thing), a ping pong table (not used because there was not enough time), and such hotel like things. We all felt a bit weird and out of place to be honest. Almost like we were cheating, even if there was nothing to be cheating in.
Day one was taken up travel up until 3, then lunch (Rachel and Tons had to pick up the Sebikotan girls, and Rachel had a doctors appointment in the morning that ran over, yes, I probably got sick from here. Oh well.), a bit of a break, and into Saint Louis as the sun was setting in order to see all the building and do historical walks and such, which was made a bit hard by Rachel having no voice. It was beautiful though, tons and tons of colonial architechture- much of which resembles the old buildings in New Orleans if you want a reference point. But many of which are crumbling down due to lack of funds to restore them. Then went to a Dijbeterie- basically a Senegalese meat restaurant where we all shared this massive plate of grilled lamb. Oh Senegal
Day two was talking about all of our readings. They were superbly interesting- underdevelopment theory, flaw in aid, colonial economic policy, and so on. We also talked about things that we have accomplished and things that still wait for it.
Day three was a visit to Diouje (sp) national park- over 365 species of birds. Tons of videos and pictures and such. Also visited the damn on the Senegal boarder. Rachel wouldn’t let us run across the Mauritania border or even get close to it because it supposedly has new Al Qaeda connections.
Got back yesterday. Smuggled two chocolate croissants. Am currently superbly sick again.
I read the Phantom tollbooth in less than six hours, and it was amazing. Havnt quite decided what I will read next. Probably will actually work on writing letters oh joy.
Looking to set up meetings with Oceanium and UNICEF. That is on the very optimistic side though.
Its absolutely crazy to think that there are only two months left. I feel like I have so much to do and so little time to do them. Yet two months is still pretty long if you think about it.
Now off to read more, or respond to letters. Probably the latter. or write official blgos
Friday, January 29, 2010
Pictures!!!!!!!!!
epic failures on posting, I know, but on the bright side during my first chance to be online for what seems like forever, I have uploaded a ton of photos. Touba and Safari (!!!!!!!!!!!!!) enjoy.
Touba, home of the Mouride brotherhood
Safari.... SAFARIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII....!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Touba, home of the Mouride brotherhood
Safari.... SAFARIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII....!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Shadows of Aid
The morning is still dark as I sit in my Ndiaga Ndiaye on the way to Rufisque. The single light bulb hanging from a failing red wire illuminates me, casting a grand silhouette, maybe four times my size, on the passing scenery.
The past few weeks I have been getting a wealth of opinions on aid projects in Senegal from different people. Always associated with the white foreigner, the missions seems to be like my shadow-bloated, by inefficiencies and lack of follow up. There is plenty of money being thrown into the aid pot. For if you have a cause, there is likely to be someone supporting it, from environmental protection to helping school children to mental illness. The main difference seems to come from what creates the shadow. Is there something concrete behind it, or is it just the wind?
The first popular path is the politicians route where one procures the aid funding (from the government or an aid organization), creates a project that is usually focused around “sensiblisation” (informing part of the population), obtains volunteers, feeds and gives shirts to these volunteers with half of the funding, and finally keeps the last half of the funding to fill up the coffers. Corruption is rampant in almost all developing countries and on the rise in Senegal specifically. However, there are some projects where only the government can sufficiently address the problem. As private organizations who give to the campaigns though, NGOs have the opportunity to see exactly where their money is going and what it is doing. For their caused can be worthy, but if the money and effort do nothing but further a fraudulent system, what is the point?
The next path is a half support system, represented perfectly in my apprenticeship site of the Village des Tortues. It was created with the help of SOPTCOM, the European Union, the Senegalese government, and other donators. Currently my host father acts as the representative of SOPTCOM for the Village, working there around twice a week. The major issue within the Village itself is the structure that now exists. It was started, and can now subsist and function by itself, but there is no real room for improvement. Every now and then the government will give money if there is not enough to feed the turtles, or SOPTCOM will donate something or other to help update the Village, like a computer. Both resources give the Village a bigger safety net up to a certain point, allowing it to beg at both ends when there is some dire need, but never really let it progressively function independently. Just like this confused system, the actual impact of the Village des Tortues is buried underneath possibilities and dead ends.
Then there is the rare path of possible success, where there is a solid impact behind that wispy shadow of promotion. Hilary and I recently started working at L’Ecole la Sagesse, a private school helped along by a Canadian group that emphasizes teaching methods other than repetition. While their upper levels have not reached their potential yet, the lower schools have an unheard of near perfect success rate. Besides test scores, you can see the impact by just talking to a child and hearing something in return that is less of a parakeet, and more of an honest answer. Yet we still must wait and see what will happen in the future with the students, if they in fact will grow up to look outside of the “normal Senegalese box,” which is literally full of the same material it was when their grandparents were in school.
These routes of aid offer much hope, for in any case they show that people still care- that we have not settled into a normalcy alongside travesties. Though these Senegalese exhibits of aid do present a dire need, that being for the organizations and people to take a complete stake in the ownership and the impact of what they do. For the most part, there is no lack of ideas, just a lack in seeing that some things need the new dreams.
The past few weeks I have been getting a wealth of opinions on aid projects in Senegal from different people. Always associated with the white foreigner, the missions seems to be like my shadow-bloated, by inefficiencies and lack of follow up. There is plenty of money being thrown into the aid pot. For if you have a cause, there is likely to be someone supporting it, from environmental protection to helping school children to mental illness. The main difference seems to come from what creates the shadow. Is there something concrete behind it, or is it just the wind?
The first popular path is the politicians route where one procures the aid funding (from the government or an aid organization), creates a project that is usually focused around “sensiblisation” (informing part of the population), obtains volunteers, feeds and gives shirts to these volunteers with half of the funding, and finally keeps the last half of the funding to fill up the coffers. Corruption is rampant in almost all developing countries and on the rise in Senegal specifically. However, there are some projects where only the government can sufficiently address the problem. As private organizations who give to the campaigns though, NGOs have the opportunity to see exactly where their money is going and what it is doing. For their caused can be worthy, but if the money and effort do nothing but further a fraudulent system, what is the point?
The next path is a half support system, represented perfectly in my apprenticeship site of the Village des Tortues. It was created with the help of SOPTCOM, the European Union, the Senegalese government, and other donators. Currently my host father acts as the representative of SOPTCOM for the Village, working there around twice a week. The major issue within the Village itself is the structure that now exists. It was started, and can now subsist and function by itself, but there is no real room for improvement. Every now and then the government will give money if there is not enough to feed the turtles, or SOPTCOM will donate something or other to help update the Village, like a computer. Both resources give the Village a bigger safety net up to a certain point, allowing it to beg at both ends when there is some dire need, but never really let it progressively function independently. Just like this confused system, the actual impact of the Village des Tortues is buried underneath possibilities and dead ends.
Then there is the rare path of possible success, where there is a solid impact behind that wispy shadow of promotion. Hilary and I recently started working at L’Ecole la Sagesse, a private school helped along by a Canadian group that emphasizes teaching methods other than repetition. While their upper levels have not reached their potential yet, the lower schools have an unheard of near perfect success rate. Besides test scores, you can see the impact by just talking to a child and hearing something in return that is less of a parakeet, and more of an honest answer. Yet we still must wait and see what will happen in the future with the students, if they in fact will grow up to look outside of the “normal Senegalese box,” which is literally full of the same material it was when their grandparents were in school.
These routes of aid offer much hope, for in any case they show that people still care- that we have not settled into a normalcy alongside travesties. Though these Senegalese exhibits of aid do present a dire need, that being for the organizations and people to take a complete stake in the ownership and the impact of what they do. For the most part, there is no lack of ideas, just a lack in seeing that some things need the new dreams.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Boarder Running
Well Hello to all! Basic summary: the birthday was amazing. Not necessarily because I got to go to Gambia- but just everything went perfectly, and it seemed to go on for about three days. Its like those days where your just incredibly happy-and you really don’t need to justify it
-New Years- crepes with chocolate and banana and chocolate and lemon (because I was to lazy and enjoying myself to much to go and get the sugar). They were heavenly I have to say. Usually I win my battle when telling Aida that Im full and would like to stop eating. I gave and just let her feed me about three crepes and couldn’t fit the fourth one that she gave me for the walk over to Awa’s, so I just gave it to Awa. There definitely was contemplation of eating it throughout the walk, but it would have been physically impossible since I had eaten a lot at dinner (breaded fried chicken, the best type here, I just try to stop thinking about how much oil goes into everything, and I had already eaten melon)
-New Years is so much less here. I was doing a crossword puzzle and they flipped the channel to a view of Dakar and there were just a bunch of people in the streets and about three or four firworks in their midst (I guess you could say that is dangerous). A bit later I looked at my phone….. It was 12:15. Turns out that was the big scene that went off when the new year came in. I guess you could say I started the year on an intellectual note, looking on the bright side of it.
-Woke up a bit before 6am on my birthday to get ready to go. I made a sandwich with pain au lait, peanut butter and then chocolate on half and honey on the other. Quite a superb birthday breakfast I think. I would like to take a pause and talk about the deliciousness of the honey here. After I discovered that I could eat it and not throw up or get incredibly sick (SCORE), Ive been eating it ever since, with breakfast that is. It is better for you than jam, correct?
-I wore a dress for my birthday- the Senegalese one I got made. Yeah, see, the dress thing is real, who woulda thunk?
-Got to see Rachel for the first time since she came back from the states (she spend all of new years eve/day on a plane. That is real dedication). She said she liked my dress. She brought me calcium (now praying for the hair debacle to cease), quaker instant oatmeal (possible to make here; reminds me of the Lindquists, not that they eat huge amounts of it, but oh well), and gum. Alec and I rode in her car with Babacar driving-Alec fell asleep and was drooling. We all laughed a bit. Shout out for Paul Simon- that was the first cd we listened to. Overall, it definitely didn’t feel like a five hour drive
-Did some stuff……at the Gambia border we ate lunch-sandwiches. Another shout out for smoked turkey (delish) and Schweppes, which I know how to pronounce but never do it right. Got in trouble for taking a picture of the border post, supposobly its illegal or something. I was not arrested. It was super bizarre to have people crazy selling cashews and other very Senegalese things… in English (gambia was an English colony).
-There was this group of American (we think) tourist that were also crossing over the border. They all got completely mobbed and jipped by the cashew sellers. That is why you don’t wear fanny packs, visors, shorts or anything that shoes your knees, and big flashing signs that say ’ I didn’t bother to read up on the cultural notifications before I came, so Ill just give you some money to apologize.’
-Took taxies to the ferry which took us to the capital Banjul-so amazingly beautiful. It was like Dakar, but there were trees, the sellers were less belligerent, and the architecture was English colonial, not French. Got some sweeeeeet pictures. They were still celebrating the new year (tamxarit, not the western new year) which we found out by hitting a parade of people screaming ‘one love’ and ‘happy new year’. Some people had Halloween style masks on…… and then there was a person dressed as a fruit basket. I mean this with all seriousness… he was a fruit.
-We got to go up on this huge arch, kina like the L’arc de Triumph. The security guard was wearing a hat that said “uncle sams guard”. Beautiful view.
-Then recrossed the boarder and ate Madelines on the way to Babacar’s family’s house in Tambacouda. Rachel had interviened in the cooking and made them make rice without Maggi and very little oil. Newsflash: there is hope for Senegalese food, its just that no one knows it yet.
-Went to our ‘hotel thing’ which consisted of rooms and showers. On the bright side, there were showers and it was pretty clean in general. There was also a gazebo for some reason, but hey, I wasn’t going to argue. (this was around 11pm by the way).
-So Rachel told Hilary and I that Victoria had this massive bed and that we would be jealous, so don’t go look. Naturally we both sprinted to Victoria and Gaya’s room- I leaped onto the bed. Bad move, as I broke it. Rachel laughed a lot. It turns out your supposed to put as little pressure on Senegalise beds as possible because the boards are usually really really thin, or already broken. So I will now never be able to live down the fact that I broke the bed-and everyone says it was my jayfunday-they thinks its more fun to say that its that than the mere jumping action and weak boardness.
-Victoria and I were sitting on Gayas bed when everyone comes in with this super mini cake with two candles-the happy birthday song for the both of us. Gaya brought trick candles.
-I just didn’t really go to sleep. And Nic called me at 3am to wish me happy birthday! But I had to go because hilary was in my room. Probably fell asleep somewhere around 5.
-We had this amazing breakfast over at Rachel and Babacars hotel, which is basically a resort. There was even a swimming pool. It would take to long to describe how much I ate (at least four pastries, threeish pieces of break, fruit, coffee, juice, obeseness), but it was a lot. And delicious. I figure it still counted as my birthday so why not eat tastyness while I can?
-Babacar can eat a whole banana in around two bites- that is ridiculous. I would almost go as far to say as law defying. Newton would have a hiss fit with it.
-Senegalise people love me a disproportionate amount for absolutely no reason. One of the running jokes is about how Im Babacars favorite. And then his family loved me, asking me to sleep there after dinner, of course, just making it worse. I mean its not a bad thing, its more that we cannot figure out why it happens with everyone. Rachel said one possibility is that I laugh a lot-but who knows.
-Two days ago my host father said that he will miss me a lot when I go back to america. Aw shucks.
-I ate two bananas and an orange on top of breakfast and lunch today. Granted, lunch was at 4pm today because my host family made food for the towns people who are building a wall around the cemetery. Since it was my day off I read, did yoga, did laundry, and am now doing this…. And ate.
-Im sorry for talking about food all the time.
-I stayed in Dakar after the Gambia trip so that I could pick up my packages on Monday. Which would constitute the third day of my birthday because I got to open some of the most amazing presents and cards ever. Words don’t quite express how happy I was, and they really couldn’t ever do it justice. I put some of the wrapping paper up on my wall collage because Im that cool.
-On January 15th, I will be half way through my stay in Africa, which is ridiculous to think about. Coincidentally it coincides with our next monthly meeting-which is in Dakar, but for the middle day we will be in the Mourite capital, Touba (mourtides are a sect in the Islamic faith, led by Cheikh Amadou Bamba)
-Hopefully Ill get to start my study this week!!! And I had my first day in Rufisque with an English club at L’Ecole la Sagesse (school of wisdom). I think it will basically turn into me and Hilary teaching the kids things that they would actually use in a real conversation/ how to understand what they are saying, not just memorize it. Its really interesting because that’s actually the goal of the school (private)-to differentiate from the regular Senegalese school that just makes kids memorize everyyyything. The kids are seriously memorizing the same passages that their parents did 40 years ago. What a need for educational reform. So there is a lot of opportunity there. They brought me into the room-kids lining the wall- told me to introduce myself- and then the lady was like, this is my co-leader. Now can you do something for us? So much for having time to plan. It could have been a lot worse though. Also, I get to eat at the principals house (he is short, my heightish. I don’t know why I keep noticing short people), and he doesn’t like magi or oil either!!!! Probably because he’s really good friends with a Canadian-who put him in contact with GCY.
-Its amazing how talking to someone for even a few minutes, makes me so happy. There would be no asymptotes on my happiness curve, which is exponential. You know you went to Raleigh Charter when you even think things like that, much less arnt embarrassed enough to type it out and not delete it.
-Ive been ridiculously tired the whole week. Its possible that its from my epic battle with sleep on the gambia trip (being up for almost 24 hours, and then getting three hours of sleep, and then about 5 or 6 when I was in Dakar), or that the random awakenings have restarted ( the odd things is, Im really awake, as in I could go for a run…. At 4am), or who knows.
-Two French ecovoluntiers are here. They are quite pleasant. One is named eddie- he kina looks like a dwarf, not in the short way, but in the very stocky big nosed jolly way. He also had a rattail which is bothersome. The other is named Camille- she is pleasantly plump, but doesn’t seem to eat a lot. Or maybe she just eats lots of delicious cookies-they gave me one. They are called pepitos and they have a little animal with a sombrero on the front. They are from here, or France technically, trader joes? Note: they were actually not made in Turkey. Its okay, I was shocked too.
-I still have the henna on my nails from Tabaski. I think it will wear off just in time for the henna that they plan to give me before I go back to the US.
-It hailed once in Senegal sometime around 30 years ago, just like the cookies, another shocking thing. The people ate it off the streets.
-There was a flipped car last night from someone hitting a pot hole. No one was injured. It was quite a side to see a car flipped back over.
-Last night was my birthday dinner since I was gone on my birthday-yassa poulet ontop of Moroccan couscous (my host mother was reluctant to make the couscous, but she knows I love it. Who cares if they think its cheap. Its tastier and healthier=fabulous). It made me very happy.
Hope this finds you all well,even though I dont really know who that means, but as always,
With love,
Ananda
-New Years- crepes with chocolate and banana and chocolate and lemon (because I was to lazy and enjoying myself to much to go and get the sugar). They were heavenly I have to say. Usually I win my battle when telling Aida that Im full and would like to stop eating. I gave and just let her feed me about three crepes and couldn’t fit the fourth one that she gave me for the walk over to Awa’s, so I just gave it to Awa. There definitely was contemplation of eating it throughout the walk, but it would have been physically impossible since I had eaten a lot at dinner (breaded fried chicken, the best type here, I just try to stop thinking about how much oil goes into everything, and I had already eaten melon)
-New Years is so much less here. I was doing a crossword puzzle and they flipped the channel to a view of Dakar and there were just a bunch of people in the streets and about three or four firworks in their midst (I guess you could say that is dangerous). A bit later I looked at my phone….. It was 12:15. Turns out that was the big scene that went off when the new year came in. I guess you could say I started the year on an intellectual note, looking on the bright side of it.
-Woke up a bit before 6am on my birthday to get ready to go. I made a sandwich with pain au lait, peanut butter and then chocolate on half and honey on the other. Quite a superb birthday breakfast I think. I would like to take a pause and talk about the deliciousness of the honey here. After I discovered that I could eat it and not throw up or get incredibly sick (SCORE), Ive been eating it ever since, with breakfast that is. It is better for you than jam, correct?
-I wore a dress for my birthday- the Senegalese one I got made. Yeah, see, the dress thing is real, who woulda thunk?
-Got to see Rachel for the first time since she came back from the states (she spend all of new years eve/day on a plane. That is real dedication). She said she liked my dress. She brought me calcium (now praying for the hair debacle to cease), quaker instant oatmeal (possible to make here; reminds me of the Lindquists, not that they eat huge amounts of it, but oh well), and gum. Alec and I rode in her car with Babacar driving-Alec fell asleep and was drooling. We all laughed a bit. Shout out for Paul Simon- that was the first cd we listened to. Overall, it definitely didn’t feel like a five hour drive
-Did some stuff……at the Gambia border we ate lunch-sandwiches. Another shout out for smoked turkey (delish) and Schweppes, which I know how to pronounce but never do it right. Got in trouble for taking a picture of the border post, supposobly its illegal or something. I was not arrested. It was super bizarre to have people crazy selling cashews and other very Senegalese things… in English (gambia was an English colony).
-There was this group of American (we think) tourist that were also crossing over the border. They all got completely mobbed and jipped by the cashew sellers. That is why you don’t wear fanny packs, visors, shorts or anything that shoes your knees, and big flashing signs that say ’ I didn’t bother to read up on the cultural notifications before I came, so Ill just give you some money to apologize.’
-Took taxies to the ferry which took us to the capital Banjul-so amazingly beautiful. It was like Dakar, but there were trees, the sellers were less belligerent, and the architecture was English colonial, not French. Got some sweeeeeet pictures. They were still celebrating the new year (tamxarit, not the western new year) which we found out by hitting a parade of people screaming ‘one love’ and ‘happy new year’. Some people had Halloween style masks on…… and then there was a person dressed as a fruit basket. I mean this with all seriousness… he was a fruit.
-We got to go up on this huge arch, kina like the L’arc de Triumph. The security guard was wearing a hat that said “uncle sams guard”. Beautiful view.
-Then recrossed the boarder and ate Madelines on the way to Babacar’s family’s house in Tambacouda. Rachel had interviened in the cooking and made them make rice without Maggi and very little oil. Newsflash: there is hope for Senegalese food, its just that no one knows it yet.
-Went to our ‘hotel thing’ which consisted of rooms and showers. On the bright side, there were showers and it was pretty clean in general. There was also a gazebo for some reason, but hey, I wasn’t going to argue. (this was around 11pm by the way).
-So Rachel told Hilary and I that Victoria had this massive bed and that we would be jealous, so don’t go look. Naturally we both sprinted to Victoria and Gaya’s room- I leaped onto the bed. Bad move, as I broke it. Rachel laughed a lot. It turns out your supposed to put as little pressure on Senegalise beds as possible because the boards are usually really really thin, or already broken. So I will now never be able to live down the fact that I broke the bed-and everyone says it was my jayfunday-they thinks its more fun to say that its that than the mere jumping action and weak boardness.
-Victoria and I were sitting on Gayas bed when everyone comes in with this super mini cake with two candles-the happy birthday song for the both of us. Gaya brought trick candles.
-I just didn’t really go to sleep. And Nic called me at 3am to wish me happy birthday! But I had to go because hilary was in my room. Probably fell asleep somewhere around 5.
-We had this amazing breakfast over at Rachel and Babacars hotel, which is basically a resort. There was even a swimming pool. It would take to long to describe how much I ate (at least four pastries, threeish pieces of break, fruit, coffee, juice, obeseness), but it was a lot. And delicious. I figure it still counted as my birthday so why not eat tastyness while I can?
-Babacar can eat a whole banana in around two bites- that is ridiculous. I would almost go as far to say as law defying. Newton would have a hiss fit with it.
-Senegalise people love me a disproportionate amount for absolutely no reason. One of the running jokes is about how Im Babacars favorite. And then his family loved me, asking me to sleep there after dinner, of course, just making it worse. I mean its not a bad thing, its more that we cannot figure out why it happens with everyone. Rachel said one possibility is that I laugh a lot-but who knows.
-Two days ago my host father said that he will miss me a lot when I go back to america. Aw shucks.
-I ate two bananas and an orange on top of breakfast and lunch today. Granted, lunch was at 4pm today because my host family made food for the towns people who are building a wall around the cemetery. Since it was my day off I read, did yoga, did laundry, and am now doing this…. And ate.
-Im sorry for talking about food all the time.
-I stayed in Dakar after the Gambia trip so that I could pick up my packages on Monday. Which would constitute the third day of my birthday because I got to open some of the most amazing presents and cards ever. Words don’t quite express how happy I was, and they really couldn’t ever do it justice. I put some of the wrapping paper up on my wall collage because Im that cool.
-On January 15th, I will be half way through my stay in Africa, which is ridiculous to think about. Coincidentally it coincides with our next monthly meeting-which is in Dakar, but for the middle day we will be in the Mourite capital, Touba (mourtides are a sect in the Islamic faith, led by Cheikh Amadou Bamba)
-Hopefully Ill get to start my study this week!!! And I had my first day in Rufisque with an English club at L’Ecole la Sagesse (school of wisdom). I think it will basically turn into me and Hilary teaching the kids things that they would actually use in a real conversation/ how to understand what they are saying, not just memorize it. Its really interesting because that’s actually the goal of the school (private)-to differentiate from the regular Senegalese school that just makes kids memorize everyyyything. The kids are seriously memorizing the same passages that their parents did 40 years ago. What a need for educational reform. So there is a lot of opportunity there. They brought me into the room-kids lining the wall- told me to introduce myself- and then the lady was like, this is my co-leader. Now can you do something for us? So much for having time to plan. It could have been a lot worse though. Also, I get to eat at the principals house (he is short, my heightish. I don’t know why I keep noticing short people), and he doesn’t like magi or oil either!!!! Probably because he’s really good friends with a Canadian-who put him in contact with GCY.
-Its amazing how talking to someone for even a few minutes, makes me so happy. There would be no asymptotes on my happiness curve, which is exponential. You know you went to Raleigh Charter when you even think things like that, much less arnt embarrassed enough to type it out and not delete it.
-Ive been ridiculously tired the whole week. Its possible that its from my epic battle with sleep on the gambia trip (being up for almost 24 hours, and then getting three hours of sleep, and then about 5 or 6 when I was in Dakar), or that the random awakenings have restarted ( the odd things is, Im really awake, as in I could go for a run…. At 4am), or who knows.
-Two French ecovoluntiers are here. They are quite pleasant. One is named eddie- he kina looks like a dwarf, not in the short way, but in the very stocky big nosed jolly way. He also had a rattail which is bothersome. The other is named Camille- she is pleasantly plump, but doesn’t seem to eat a lot. Or maybe she just eats lots of delicious cookies-they gave me one. They are called pepitos and they have a little animal with a sombrero on the front. They are from here, or France technically, trader joes? Note: they were actually not made in Turkey. Its okay, I was shocked too.
-I still have the henna on my nails from Tabaski. I think it will wear off just in time for the henna that they plan to give me before I go back to the US.
-It hailed once in Senegal sometime around 30 years ago, just like the cookies, another shocking thing. The people ate it off the streets.
-There was a flipped car last night from someone hitting a pot hole. No one was injured. It was quite a side to see a car flipped back over.
-Last night was my birthday dinner since I was gone on my birthday-yassa poulet ontop of Moroccan couscous (my host mother was reluctant to make the couscous, but she knows I love it. Who cares if they think its cheap. Its tastier and healthier=fabulous). It made me very happy.
Hope this finds you all well,even though I dont really know who that means, but as always,
With love,
Ananda
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
The British Are Coming, the British Are Coming!!! Or, err, the bread?
8:00 a.m. - Wake up, get ready for the day, head over to our family’s restaurant to go eat my bread and tegga degga (natural, no added hydrogenated oil, peanut butter, yum).
8:30 a.m. - Find out that the bread has, in fact, not already arrived at Mamour’s Boutique, and so we stop and pass the time by trying to be the first person to find the white, hearse shaped, bread car. There are an amazing amount of imposter cars.
9:15am- People search the other boutiques in town for the remnants of last night’s bread, which isn’t exactly soft anymore. About three people get to eat and go on with their days. Currently the whole village is at a standstill- no one goes anywhere or does much of anything, as we are all playing the waiting game. This would be why people have so much patience here.
10:03 a.m. - Bread Arrives!!!!!!!!! We jokingly cheer, people eat, lives commence, and I go to work.
It’s easy to take something simple out of this situation- like if there was ever a war in Senegal, just go for the bread makers and the whole country would stop- yet it exemplifies so much more. The plain, empty, usually abundant, cheap white baguette bread that is sold here is essential to almost every person and household as a cheap way to get calories. While people eat things like chocolate spread or eggs with their bread sometimes, it is simply not within most families means to make meals, most of the times for huge households, that don’t contain a one food or another that can inexpensively fill people up. Here its rice, couscous for the poorer families (even though it has more nutrients), and bread and, from what I gather, its beans and tortillas in Guatemala. Either way, it is distinct example of the poverty and fragility with which the people around me live. One little thing, like not having the bread delivered, or how yesterday there was just simply no water, can completely change or halt life here. There are no back up plans, no second options to help life continue. For that takes money, space, liberty, ideas, whatever you may- all of which are harder to come by, the poorer you are.
8:30 a.m. - Find out that the bread has, in fact, not already arrived at Mamour’s Boutique, and so we stop and pass the time by trying to be the first person to find the white, hearse shaped, bread car. There are an amazing amount of imposter cars.
9:15am- People search the other boutiques in town for the remnants of last night’s bread, which isn’t exactly soft anymore. About three people get to eat and go on with their days. Currently the whole village is at a standstill- no one goes anywhere or does much of anything, as we are all playing the waiting game. This would be why people have so much patience here.
10:03 a.m. - Bread Arrives!!!!!!!!! We jokingly cheer, people eat, lives commence, and I go to work.
It’s easy to take something simple out of this situation- like if there was ever a war in Senegal, just go for the bread makers and the whole country would stop- yet it exemplifies so much more. The plain, empty, usually abundant, cheap white baguette bread that is sold here is essential to almost every person and household as a cheap way to get calories. While people eat things like chocolate spread or eggs with their bread sometimes, it is simply not within most families means to make meals, most of the times for huge households, that don’t contain a one food or another that can inexpensively fill people up. Here its rice, couscous for the poorer families (even though it has more nutrients), and bread and, from what I gather, its beans and tortillas in Guatemala. Either way, it is distinct example of the poverty and fragility with which the people around me live. One little thing, like not having the bread delivered, or how yesterday there was just simply no water, can completely change or halt life here. There are no back up plans, no second options to help life continue. For that takes money, space, liberty, ideas, whatever you may- all of which are harder to come by, the poorer you are.
Christmas Mashing of the Mass
America is known for its obsession with political correctness. Have any public figure make one slip or slightly slanted joke, and the horse race media takes it over to spin every angle and proportion out of the story. Senegal for one, runs on a very different scale of political correctness, neatly exemplified by how I’m always greeted by the name toubab, or whitey. I’ve always thought of myself as a person who’s pretty good at handling humor or politics, whether I agree with them or not. Then I went to mass on Christmas morning, which had been moved from the night before due to the fact that the Pastor didn’t show up. I knew that it wouldn’t be the same as Duke Chapel, but expected consciously and unconsciously, the same love, peace, and nondenominational message. While the people at the mass call themselves Christians in general, it was a very distinctive Catholic service, complete with Holy Communion. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with this, but it was just a bit surprising. Then the Pastor went on to preach. It started with the peace and love message, and then slowly turned into a joke about how God did not, in fact, make an original fish that then turned into man- Church 1: Evolution: 0. Then he really got rolling: while the Muslims should be applauded for asking for forgiveness each year, how can they believe in more profits than just Jesus? While we are all good Christians, we must remember to set an example for others. Look at Rwanda, they are 94 percent Christian and have had the genocide of the century! Something about Taiwan and Toubab (Alec and I) followed when the Pastor switched to wolof. Finally, it was all capped off when I met the Pastor at the end of the service… and he commenced to try and get me to marry him and bring him back to America with me. While this may have just been a very…individualy interpreted holiday message, it was quite an experience. Touché Senegal, for now being called toubab is on the politically correct side my scale.
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