25.12.11
tres. nadal.
Midnight mass at the Catedral Barcelona. Crazy spaniards in speedos plunging into the Mediterranean. Mouth-watering Christmas lunch (salmon & tuna & veal, oh my!) Shopping at the Christmas bazaar. Some tapas and sangria to end the night.
barca dia dos
Twenty four on twenty four. Birthday omelette, followed by some birthday gelado, and tapas. Amazing sunny walk through Barca. And my Christmas stocking made the trip too!
24.12.11
9.12.11
going for a run
In March PC Senegal is hosting a marathon, that's right a marathon in Africa, to raise awareness and funding to support girls' education. Some Tamba volunteers put together a great video for the project, and there is a facebook page you can check out as well (Senegal's Run for Education). And apparently they are trying to get Oprah and Ellen on board :)
More deets to come!
More deets to come!
28.11.11
global handwashing day!
Happy Global Handwashing Day! On October 15th that is; been a little negligent with the blog. Apologies.
To celebrate this worldwide day of sanitation appreciation, I held a "programme" for the students at the primary school in my village. It was nothing short of a beautiful disaster. The day started out with such promise - a fellow Serere volunteer had come over in the morning to help me out a bit, and we spent the day preparing. On the schedule was a quick lesson plan that centered on how germs spread and how it is necessary to wash with soap to clean them off. To illustrate this point I decided to utilize glitter. So my style. Then we had a quick song that I translated from French into Serere that went to the tune of "Row, Row, Row Your Boat," followed by a relay race of sorts. And to wrap the day up I was going to have all of the kids take a hand washing pledge by stamping their hand print on a big banner. At least that's what was supposed to happen.
The event was scheduled to begin at 3pm, so around 2:30 we headed over to round up my counterparts and the health worker in my village. And as we walk outside a cold, blustery wind practically knocks us over. A sure sign of rain. Sure enough the downpour came moments later. This was totally unexpected as it hadn't rained for weeks, weeks! But Senegal decided on a quick shower at the precise moment of my event. Fine. We had some tasty village popcorn and waited it out.
When the clouds cleared out we jumped into action. Luckily for me, all the kids returned to the school, still eager to participate, and my health worker hadn't been scared off by the rain. But the clouds overhead looked ominous, so I decided that we had to get this party on the road and pronto. The health worker an myself launched into the lesson plan, using glitter as the germs and demonstrating the proper way to wash your hands with soap. Then we had a few kids come up to demonstrate, which was great because you just can't get this glitter off your hands without the soap. After that, we rushed into the relay race. For this I had the kids get into three lines, and the first kid got a heaping handful of glitter and were told to pass it along via "greeting" each other - the act of greeting has immense cultural importance here in Senegal and I wanted to give them a medium through which they could understand the transfer of germs. Plus the kids love glitter. Once they all had their hands covered with "germs" they had to rush to the front of the line and wash all the glitter off of their hands using the proper techniques, and then raced back to the next one. It was a close one, but we declared everyone a "winner" since we can all wash our hands with soap now! Worked like a charm.
At this point things had been moving pretty smoothly, but the rain clouds were rolling in again, and I was getting nervous. I decided that I had to skip on the song - it was mildly devastating, as I was quite proud of my Serere translation. So we moved rapidly on to the handwashing pledge. This was where is all began to fall apart.
We brought out the paint for the handprints and the kids went berserk. It was like instantly being pulled into a mosh pit as they rushed up the steps to the school. There were hands everywhere as we tried to slather them with paint, when of course the rain picked up again. Now I've got about 30-40 kids on my hands, rushing to paint their hands as well as get inside the classroom to avoid the rain. This became just a crazy flurry of rushing around, elbowing, painting, hand stamping, and general chaos. It was stressful, to say the least, but we got through it. In the end I think I taught some kids how to wash their hands with soap and how to play with glitter. Pretty good day if you ask me.
To celebrate this worldwide day of sanitation appreciation, I held a "programme" for the students at the primary school in my village. It was nothing short of a beautiful disaster. The day started out with such promise - a fellow Serere volunteer had come over in the morning to help me out a bit, and we spent the day preparing. On the schedule was a quick lesson plan that centered on how germs spread and how it is necessary to wash with soap to clean them off. To illustrate this point I decided to utilize glitter. So my style. Then we had a quick song that I translated from French into Serere that went to the tune of "Row, Row, Row Your Boat," followed by a relay race of sorts. And to wrap the day up I was going to have all of the kids take a hand washing pledge by stamping their hand print on a big banner. At least that's what was supposed to happen.
The event was scheduled to begin at 3pm, so around 2:30 we headed over to round up my counterparts and the health worker in my village. And as we walk outside a cold, blustery wind practically knocks us over. A sure sign of rain. Sure enough the downpour came moments later. This was totally unexpected as it hadn't rained for weeks, weeks! But Senegal decided on a quick shower at the precise moment of my event. Fine. We had some tasty village popcorn and waited it out.
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| visual aids |
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| germs! |
When the clouds cleared out we jumped into action. Luckily for me, all the kids returned to the school, still eager to participate, and my health worker hadn't been scared off by the rain. But the clouds overhead looked ominous, so I decided that we had to get this party on the road and pronto. The health worker an myself launched into the lesson plan, using glitter as the germs and demonstrating the proper way to wash your hands with soap. Then we had a few kids come up to demonstrate, which was great because you just can't get this glitter off your hands without the soap. After that, we rushed into the relay race. For this I had the kids get into three lines, and the first kid got a heaping handful of glitter and were told to pass it along via "greeting" each other - the act of greeting has immense cultural importance here in Senegal and I wanted to give them a medium through which they could understand the transfer of germs. Plus the kids love glitter. Once they all had their hands covered with "germs" they had to rush to the front of the line and wash all the glitter off of their hands using the proper techniques, and then raced back to the next one. It was a close one, but we declared everyone a "winner" since we can all wash our hands with soap now! Worked like a charm.
At this point things had been moving pretty smoothly, but the rain clouds were rolling in again, and I was getting nervous. I decided that I had to skip on the song - it was mildly devastating, as I was quite proud of my Serere translation. So we moved rapidly on to the handwashing pledge. This was where is all began to fall apart.
We brought out the paint for the handprints and the kids went berserk. It was like instantly being pulled into a mosh pit as they rushed up the steps to the school. There were hands everywhere as we tried to slather them with paint, when of course the rain picked up again. Now I've got about 30-40 kids on my hands, rushing to paint their hands as well as get inside the classroom to avoid the rain. This became just a crazy flurry of rushing around, elbowing, painting, hand stamping, and general chaos. It was stressful, to say the least, but we got through it. In the end I think I taught some kids how to wash their hands with soap and how to play with glitter. Pretty good day if you ask me.
14.11.11
tabaski in five
Tabaski is the most celebrated holiday here in Senegal. It's a cross between Thanksgiving (the main event is an enormous meal, shared with family and friends), Halloween (children go compound to compound "trick-or-treating" for small change), and Christmas (lots of new clothes are exchanged, with more outfit changes than the Oscars). And in true Senegalese fashion they go all night long! For a slightly more informative description of Tabaski, check out Wikipedia :http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eid_al-Adha
1. I watched three sheep get beheaded. My dad who killed the first one wore his fancy Tabaski whites. Ballsy.
2. Even Senegalese women, masters at the art of cooking, cry when chopping onions. Especially three kilos of onions. But I still cried more.
3. Ate the sheep's liver. And some other indistinguishable parts that I'm sure I've never even seen before. And a week later, we are still eating those three sheep.
4. The amount of vegetable oil and pure MSG that I consumed is astounding. And continued all week long.
5. The fact that I thought it all tasted delicious again for breakfast the next morning is even more astounding.
Pics of the festivities will follow I promise!
1. I watched three sheep get beheaded. My dad who killed the first one wore his fancy Tabaski whites. Ballsy.
2. Even Senegalese women, masters at the art of cooking, cry when chopping onions. Especially three kilos of onions. But I still cried more.
3. Ate the sheep's liver. And some other indistinguishable parts that I'm sure I've never even seen before. And a week later, we are still eating those three sheep.
4. The amount of vegetable oil and pure MSG that I consumed is astounding. And continued all week long.
5. The fact that I thought it all tasted delicious again for breakfast the next morning is even more astounding.
Pics of the festivities will follow I promise!
10.10.11
i heart trees
I recently joined up with a group of volunteers in my region to do a mangrove reforestation project in the delta region of Toubacouta. It is breathtakingly beautiful down there, and I am immensely jealous of the PCV’s who get to call it home. I mean, look at that sunset!
We all arrived the evening before – mostly so we could play in the pool for a few hours – and in the morning our ride showed up. There were about 30 of us, and the ‘ride’ turned out to be a pick-up truck filled with fishy smelling life jackets..how many Peace Corps volunteers can you fit in a truck? We’re up to sixteen.
We were taking these great little pirogues out to the transplanting location, so the 16 of us who managed to cram into the bed of the pickup trekked about 100m out into the water, rocking our smelly life jackets, and hopped in the boat. Then, in true Senegalese fashion, we sat. And we waited. For about an hour in the hot, hot sun. Lots of sunscreen being passed around that day! When the second half of our group arrived (they had thought they had been left behind! and they only got 12 in the truck), it was decided that they would not walk out to boat, but take another, motor-less boat, out to meet us. So they are rowed out, and as the boat is sitting about 25ft away from us, they are instructed to hop out and walk over to our boat. Realizing that the water we were sitting in barely reached our knees, we quickly shed the smothering life jackets. And then, we were off! We took about an hour long boat ride through the mangroves, taking in all the scenery.
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| women sorting seedlings |
The reforestation site was a long, sandy flat. When we arrived we were greeted by the organization workers that helped to set up the event, some local women, and a whole slew of kids, running all over the place with huge sacks of mangrove seedlings. I was especially excited to work with everyone all day, because all of the Senegalese people that were joining us spoke Serere – I could finally communicate with someone outside of my village! The local women were helping out with sorting through the seeds, discarding the bad ones. We all grabbed a bucket with seedlings, and headed out to get to planting. The guys who were running the show had drawn out these long lines that we were to plant along. It’s a pretty basic process. You take two large steps, stick a seedling in the mud so its deep enough that it won’t fall out when the tide washes in, take two more steps, and repeat, until you reach the end of the line.
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| me and khady |
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| diligently reforesting |
I had a lil’ buddy while I was working – her name was Khady (pronounced Hadi) and she stuck with me all day. At one point I somehow got myself into an epic battle with all the little boys running around, due to the fact that my last name is Ndiaye and they were all Dioufs. Serere’s love to have joking relationships with each other, and that’s basically what this was – we were hurling insults all day long. Ndiayes eat a lot! Dioufs only know how to eat! Ndiayes love millet! Standard fare for Senegalese insulting. I called a few of them ugly as well. Khady had my back, but those boys were out for me! As we were nearing the end of the day, one of the other volunteers decided that it would be oh, so funny to start splashing everyone. They quickly realized that I was not a fan of the splashing, and the boys that had been scheming jumped at the opportunity, with more than a little encouragement from my so-called fellow PCVs. It quickly escalated into an all-out war, with volunteers and kids running every which way, flinging buckets full of water, and hop-scotching over our newly planted trees. Needless to say, we all ended up soaked though, but I’m not gonna lie, after a long, hot day in the sun I couldn’t complain.
That evening we got to have another little pool party, and while a thunderstorm threatened to ruin the fun, we all decided to jump in anyways, cause honestly, when else can we play in a pool? Fun Fact: Turns out that when you go underwater in the rain it sounds like little bubbles are popping all around.
All in all, I had a great time in Toubacouta. Planted some trees, pretended I was a kid again in a splash fight, got to see a lot of my friends and the other volunteers in my region, again, we had a pool, and my campement had AC. What more can a girl ask for!
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| smiling pcv faces |
3.10.11
future fashionista
My sister Awa, modeling with her shades, cell phone, and a purse. The definition of village style.
24.9.11
slight chance of an afternoon shower
We were off on a bit of an adventure. Exploring the streets of Kaolack in search of one of the many tucked away tailors so my friend Meg could get some outrageous clothes that she found in the market tailored back to normalcy. There were a few drops of water falling from a small, yet ominous rain cloud, but blue skies were still overhead, so we chose to press on. We were barely two blocks down from our house when we happened across a nice little gathering of little old men, sipping on some Senegalese tea, attaya. We decided to make our trek a little bit easier and ask for directions. The request ended in the little men pointing in every which direction - There is one over there. No, no not there, over that way. No there is not one there. It is around the corner. No, no I think it is across the street. Eventually, we got some accurate advice from a little old lady who hobbled over and knew what was up. Should have started with her. As we headed around the corner, she brought us to an unmarked compound, where a few guys were just standing around, decked to the nines in multicolored fabrics. At this point the rain was starting the threaten us with a shower. After a rapid-fire exchange in Wolof, it was concluded that he was not here, and we would have to wait. He is coming, he is coming. This is an exceedingly common response here. Now the rain was really starting to come down, in big, juicy drops, and we were hurried into a millet machine room where there was a bench awaiting us. We chatted for a few minutes, and then one of the guys came into to give us some news - the tailor wouldn't be back til 5pm. It being noon, be decided to be on our way. As we ventured on down the street, the rain started to slacken slightly, and when we turned around we could actually see the down pour, just a few steps back. As we laughed about how we had missed the rain, it started to turn back towards us, and we tucked under a little canopy where some women and their children we selling roasted corn (delicious, by the way). After some consultations, it was decided that we just had to go one block further to reach our destination. As we stepped out from the canopy, we continued down the now muddy road, with little streams of yellowish water following in our footsteps (ew). Little boys were chasing down the trickles, and a moto whizzed past, as we approached the tailors. Then, out off nowhere, the skies opened up on us. we barely made it through the doorway, as the water came crashing down from overhead. The moto driver and his passenger quickly pulled up alongside the building to seek refuge, and two teenage girls, bowls stacked on their heads, piled with goods to sell, tucked in as well. And there we were - all thrown together to escape the downpour. As me and Meg giggled over the direction that our morning had taken, a troupe of little boys gathered under the roof spigots across the street, water streaming down, all splashing, possibly showering, like a little Senegalese water park. It was definitely one of those moments when you wish that you always had a camera with you. Talk about a Kodak moment. Meg launched into negotiations with the tailor, and I quickly discovered that the moto driver sitting next to me spoke Serere, and we launched into a lengthy discussion - mostly about me. What languages I speak, where I live, if I'm married, if I want to be, if I'll teach him English; standard conversation material for Senegal. The rain slowly subsides, and Meg wraps up her negotiations. We depart the tailors, and walk out into what can only be described as a river of yellowish, sludge puddles. A challenge for the walk home. We yank off our flip flops, and start the precarious hop-scotch back to the road. Just another one of those days in Senegal, you never know where it will take you.
22.9.11
kor(EAT)ite
This is rather overdue - pardon my inattention.
So, KORITE. Or, should I say kor(EAT)ite. It's a big celebration to celebrate the end of Ramadan. The name 'Korite' is unique to West Africa, in most of the world it is referred to as Eid ul-Fitr, and marks the end of the fast during Ramadan. To begin the festivities, the entire village dressed up in their finest and voyages out to the fields for the religious ceremony (this is a traditional practice, holding the ceremony in a field). Part of the religious aspect is to ask for Allah's forgiveness, and afterwards the entire village walked around to each others compounds to do the same. In Serere, the phrase that they use is 'wasanam' and the response is 'wasanxong' (the x is pronounced as an H), and this roughly translates to 'excuse me' and 'I excuse you.' It made for a very festive atmosphere that morning, with everyone walking around, little bands of children roaming the village. Everyone was jovial and in good spirits, and they all let out a raucous laugh when I was able to respond to them with the right phrase. Below is a quick pic of one of my favorite little sisters, my best friend in village really. Her name is Ngenya (pronounce it however you wish, I'm still figuring it out!) She followed me around with my camera all day - we had a blast.
So, KORITE. Or, should I say kor(EAT)ite. It's a big celebration to celebrate the end of Ramadan. The name 'Korite' is unique to West Africa, in most of the world it is referred to as Eid ul-Fitr, and marks the end of the fast during Ramadan. To begin the festivities, the entire village dressed up in their finest and voyages out to the fields for the religious ceremony (this is a traditional practice, holding the ceremony in a field). Part of the religious aspect is to ask for Allah's forgiveness, and afterwards the entire village walked around to each others compounds to do the same. In Serere, the phrase that they use is 'wasanam' and the response is 'wasanxong' (the x is pronounced as an H), and this roughly translates to 'excuse me' and 'I excuse you.' It made for a very festive atmosphere that morning, with everyone walking around, little bands of children roaming the village. Everyone was jovial and in good spirits, and they all let out a raucous laugh when I was able to respond to them with the right phrase. Below is a quick pic of one of my favorite little sisters, my best friend in village really. Her name is Ngenya (pronounce it however you wish, I'm still figuring it out!) She followed me around with my camera all day - we had a blast.
The rest of the day was spent cooking up some deliciousness. I tried to help, but could only last until the onions came out, then the tears started pouring out! In the afternoon we had a lil block party, which was surprising totally awesome! All the women from my block came over to my house, and we chowed down on some greasy macaroni, with onion sauce and mystery meat, which we eat with bread. I should have taken a picture because I feel like this description falls woefully shot, so I promise to start photographing my food. All the women sat around chatting and dancing, having and all around good time. We then made a loop of the block, repeating the party at each compound. It was a great time, I love seeing the women all excited and dancing about. If there is one thing that Sereres know how to do, its party! I chose to forgo the greasy pasta at each house, as one serving is more than enough for me, but it gave me plenty of opportunities to get some good pics.
Dancin' all day along.
Making our way through the village.
My counterpart and one of my brother's wives gettin' down.
This is, no lie, a 100+ year old women shakin' her butt.
My 60-something year old mom busting a move. I'd never seen her dance before!
In case you can't tell from the pictures, Sereres like to dance - it makes for a good time :)
21.9.11
be unreasonable
"reasonable people adapt themselves to the world. unreasonable people attempt to adapt the world to themselves. all progress, therefore, depends on unreasonable people."
-george bernard shaw
7.9.11
island hopping
I recently went on a quick trip to Dakar, and during my visit my friend Lisa and I went to Goree Island. The island was a "last stop" sort of destination in the slave trade, as it lies at the very western tip of Africa. It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and you can take a virtual tour here: http://webworld.unesco.org/goree/en/index.shtml
The Senegalese have restored most of the colonial buildings, and turned a place with a horrific history into a beautiful destination. I'll let the pictures do the talking.
*disclaimer: may have gotten a little photoshop happy..
The Senegalese have restored most of the colonial buildings, and turned a place with a horrific history into a beautiful destination. I'll let the pictures do the talking.
*disclaimer: may have gotten a little photoshop happy..
cartography
I have a fond appreciation for maps. Especially old maps. They are visual representations of history, and most of the time, they are beautiful pieces of artwork. One doesn't often think about maps; they are taken for granted. Certainly, every classroom in America has one plastered to the wall. I don't need to think twice about the location of California, or where Russia is in relation to India. I just know. That is most definitely not the case here. Some people can't recognize the different regions of Senegal on an unlabeled map. A volunteer close by to me went on vacation to Tanzania, and when I told my village this no one knew where Tanzania was. In Africa, sure, but where? This lack of basic geographical knowledge can be bewildering, because I have always known where Idaho was, or Mexico or France. Because I have always had a map. It is such a basic cornerstone of an education, that I don't think that most of us even realize how essential it is. This being a problem with a relatively simple solution, I decided to start painting some maps.
I have a primary school in my village with five classrooms, and one more on the way. To start, I have begun painting a map of Senegal in each of the classrooms. All the kids roaming around the village would pile into the classrooms as I paint, asking what I was drawing, and when we established that it was a map of Senegal, the real questions began. Where is Dakar? Where is Kaolack? They would ask where my road town is, or any other surrounding town that they have heard of. Generally, these kids haven't been very far out of the village, let alone the region. With a map of their country I hope that they can start to get a sense of how big the world out there really is.
Once I finish up with these, I am going to do a much larger map of Africa in one of the classes, and then to wrap up the map murals, I plan on doing a map of the world that takes up the full wall in one of the classes. One of my neighbors did the world map project and it came out really wonderfully. You can see it here on her blog: http://jmw556.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-can-show-you-world.html
One more thing, as you can see I haven't labeled the regions yet because the brushes here are of a horrendous quality, and writing turns out more like jibberish, so if anyone feels so inclined to send some black paint pens my way, me and a hundred or so kids would be much obliged :)
15.8.11
the facts of life
It occurred to me the other day that alot of what has become commonplace for me would strike the random passerby as a little odd. I decided to try and take my sene-goggles off to share the oddities of my life.
*One hundred and eleven degree days being perfectly standard.
*Instead of asking if 'm afraid of something, people ask if you have courage. Not sure what it is about that phrase, but I really love it.
*Appreciating how damn hard it is to get anything to grow in Africa.
*Having literally every conversation revolve around how hot it is.
*Everyone and their mom asking you if you have a husband, then asking if you'd like one.
*Being incessantly complimented on my jayfondae - i.e. big butt. Nice.
*The temperature dropping 30 degrees in the span of like an hour when a rain storm is on the approach.
*Children doing things like sucking on batteries, or playing with machetes.
*Eating with my hands out of giant bowls, while sitting outside on the ground.
*TOUBAB! Toubab! T-T-T-Toubab!
*Mosquitoes. Spiders. Creepy-crawlers. Absolutely enormous spiders.
*The early evening sound of millet being pounded.
*How foreign a car or moto sounds in my village.
*How "Senegalese" every taste/flavor seems.
*How absolutely dark is can be at night here.
*Communicating across languages, resorting to every trick of charades that I've ever learned.
*Waiting for cows, donkeys, goats to cross the road.
*Greetings. "How's it walking? It is walking. How's your mother? She is there. Peace only."
*How amazing it is to get rained on as you are walking back from the well with water that you just pulled balancing precariously on your head, trying not to trip on the goat in front of you.
*One hundred and eleven degree days being perfectly standard.
*Instead of asking if 'm afraid of something, people ask if you have courage. Not sure what it is about that phrase, but I really love it.
*Appreciating how damn hard it is to get anything to grow in Africa.
*Having literally every conversation revolve around how hot it is.
*Everyone and their mom asking you if you have a husband, then asking if you'd like one.
*Being incessantly complimented on my jayfondae - i.e. big butt. Nice.
*The temperature dropping 30 degrees in the span of like an hour when a rain storm is on the approach.
*Children doing things like sucking on batteries, or playing with machetes.
*Eating with my hands out of giant bowls, while sitting outside on the ground.
*TOUBAB! Toubab! T-T-T-Toubab!
*Mosquitoes. Spiders. Creepy-crawlers. Absolutely enormous spiders.
*The early evening sound of millet being pounded.
*How foreign a car or moto sounds in my village.
*How "Senegalese" every taste/flavor seems.
*How absolutely dark is can be at night here.
*Communicating across languages, resorting to every trick of charades that I've ever learned.
*Waiting for cows, donkeys, goats to cross the road.
*Greetings. "How's it walking? It is walking. How's your mother? She is there. Peace only."
*How amazing it is to get rained on as you are walking back from the well with water that you just pulled balancing precariously on your head, trying not to trip on the goat in front of you.
mancala
The two women are stooped over the ground on their small, hand-crafted stools. The lines of age have been etched into their faces by decades of back breaking work and the harsh rays of the ever present sun. Their bodies are swathed in seemingly endless roles of bright, exuberant fabrics. The tops of their heads are adorned in creations so elaborate, jutting out at every imaginable angle, they could be modern art, yet these practiced hands throw them together with incredible ease. These two village mothers are perched under the shade of a bold and imposing baobab tree, one of the few beings in the village that has endured the harsh conditions of the savannah longer than them. Their hands are moving swiftly over the surface of sand, deftly carving concave depressions into the earth. One pulls out a swatch of cloth from the depths of the fabric billowing around her, and emerges with a cache of smooth, rounded stones, which have been carefully sought out and saved. As the circles have been impressed into the ground, and the stones carefully parceled out, the game is about to begin. Interested family members have begun to gather, and anticipation is growing. The first woman whispers “inchallah” under her breath, and in a flash of movement, her hand has scooped the first handful of stones, and she drops them one by one into a succession of divots in the sand. The game has suddenly broke into a flurry of motion with hands roaming to and fro, sweeping stones across the ground, reshaping the cups of sand that hold them. There is an air of tense excitement permeating through the small gathering – where will the next move be? Suddenly, a hand rests abruptly over a pile – she is thinking, tentatively weighing out her options. The game is nearing its close, as mini mountains of the smooth, rounded stones lay at either end of the board. The time for strategic play has arrived. A hushed whisper ripples through the crowd. With a precise movement, her hand traverses the playing field, reaching for the adjacent cache of stones, and the game resumes its flurried pace. A clear leader begins to emerge, and within moments the last stone has been placed, and the victor rocks back on her stool, throwing her head back with a smile radiating off of her face, and with a resounding clap she exclaims “Alhamdulillah!” The less fortunate one shakes her head back and forth in her hands, indecipherable utterances spilling from her lips. And with that, the curious few who assembled for the match slowly recede back into their daily chores. The first women sweeps up the stones and pockets them, as the second returns the sands to their original state, and with that, the two women rouse themselves up, their statures still strong and proud despite their age. As they stroll towards the compounds entrance, they swoop down, each reaching for a benwar, which they place with agility on the tops of their heads. With the sun slowly sinking in the sky, they head in the direction of the well, their brightly colored silhouettes cutting a sharp contrast with the gentle tones of pink and yellow stretching across the sky. They chatter animatedly about the game, as they head down the lush, green bush bath, resuming their roles as women of Senegal.
pcv cribs
Welcome to my humble abode...
...my bedroom...
...the living room/office/my closet...
...my awesome bike and painting supplies..
...the kitchen/laundry room...
...the backyard that I really don't know what to do with... Suggestions??
Thanks for stopping by!!
7.8.11
ramadan, rashes, and the rains
Just a quick update on my general state of being:
*Ramadan has begun. Not too bad so far. I was sick the first few days, so I wasn't able to try fasting, and even after, my family wanted to make sure I was A-OK before they were going to let me give up food. They are very concerned about making me "very, very large!" so when I go home to America, everyone will be able to tell how wonderful Senegal is based on how fat I get. I definitely am not planning on fasting for the entire month, but when I get back to village I would like to give it a try for a few days. I'll let you know how that goes. I anticipate being very, very hungry.
*It is more humid that one can possible imagine at the moment here in Kaolack - never thought there could be 100% humidity without rain, but never fear, Senegal managed to make that a reality. My skin has decided not to get along with the humidity, and I am at various times covered with heat rash. Luckily, a cold shower, some talc powder, and a good dose of an antihistamine do wonders.
*Rainy season is in full force now, and man oh man can it rain! For the past week at site it has rained every day, ranging from just a few light showers to full on hurricane strength gales. One night the lightening was so crazy, you didn't even need a light to go out because the entire sky was constantly ablaze. Crazy! It is still deafeningly loud inside the hut since I have a tin roof, but I am starting to get used to it; just need to get passed the sense that the roof is going to cave in on me! The main bush path that I take to get from my village to the road has become more of a river, which I learned the hard way when I tried to bike out this morning. It was literally a lake that I had to trudge through, in flip flops, with my bike. Lovely. I tried to fight my way through the bush in an attempt to stay dry, which partially worked, but since it is the rainy season, the bush is no longer sparse, but teeming with flora. So I was basically bush-wacking my way down the road. I felt like I was in the Jungle Book or something, and it is a serious shame that no one was around to witness my battle against the bush, as I can only imagine how ridiculous I looked. Needless to say, I will not be taking that particular bush path for a while.
Tomorrow I am off to another village to plant some trees for a live fence, then going home and hopefully painting some murals in the next couple of weeks, so I will be sure to take some pictures!
Jamm & Love
*Ramadan has begun. Not too bad so far. I was sick the first few days, so I wasn't able to try fasting, and even after, my family wanted to make sure I was A-OK before they were going to let me give up food. They are very concerned about making me "very, very large!" so when I go home to America, everyone will be able to tell how wonderful Senegal is based on how fat I get. I definitely am not planning on fasting for the entire month, but when I get back to village I would like to give it a try for a few days. I'll let you know how that goes. I anticipate being very, very hungry.
*It is more humid that one can possible imagine at the moment here in Kaolack - never thought there could be 100% humidity without rain, but never fear, Senegal managed to make that a reality. My skin has decided not to get along with the humidity, and I am at various times covered with heat rash. Luckily, a cold shower, some talc powder, and a good dose of an antihistamine do wonders.
*Rainy season is in full force now, and man oh man can it rain! For the past week at site it has rained every day, ranging from just a few light showers to full on hurricane strength gales. One night the lightening was so crazy, you didn't even need a light to go out because the entire sky was constantly ablaze. Crazy! It is still deafeningly loud inside the hut since I have a tin roof, but I am starting to get used to it; just need to get passed the sense that the roof is going to cave in on me! The main bush path that I take to get from my village to the road has become more of a river, which I learned the hard way when I tried to bike out this morning. It was literally a lake that I had to trudge through, in flip flops, with my bike. Lovely. I tried to fight my way through the bush in an attempt to stay dry, which partially worked, but since it is the rainy season, the bush is no longer sparse, but teeming with flora. So I was basically bush-wacking my way down the road. I felt like I was in the Jungle Book or something, and it is a serious shame that no one was around to witness my battle against the bush, as I can only imagine how ridiculous I looked. Needless to say, I will not be taking that particular bush path for a while.
Tomorrow I am off to another village to plant some trees for a live fence, then going home and hopefully painting some murals in the next couple of weeks, so I will be sure to take some pictures!
Jamm & Love
curious critters
I have decided to start a running list of things that I have found co-habitating in my hut with me:
- spiders. everywhere.
- two lil mice
- a very large frog. he is very loud.
- more crickets than one can imagine
- cockroaches. yuck.
- a chicken that one time
...stay tuned for more roommate updates
- spiders. everywhere.
- two lil mice
- a very large frog. he is very loud.
- more crickets than one can imagine
- cockroaches. yuck.
- a chicken that one time
...stay tuned for more roommate updates
27.7.11
back to school
After two eye opening months at site, getting to know the village, the language, the people, we are all back at IST (In-Service Training) to actually learn how to do our jobs. The way it seems to me is that PST works as a crash course in Senegalese culture and development basics, and in IST we get to really dive into the practical side of things.
We kicked off the two week training with a party at our country director’s house in Dakar to celebrate the end of our five week challenge. If you recall, he had bribed us with American food, and as we are starving Peace Corps volunteers, this proved to be very effective…and tasty. We dined on Coco Puffs, Frosted Flakes, guacamole, popcorn, quesadillas, more chicken wings than one could ever imagine, ice cream, brownies, cake, and topped it all off with an ice cold Corona and lime. It was heavenly.
After that culinary delight, we all head back to Thies to get to work. We have been covering all sorts of projects and technical aspects; behavior change, appropriate technologies, child and maternal health, malnutrition, environmental education in the schools, gardening techniques, the list is endless. It’s been informative, and I’m excited to get back to site and actually try out some of what I’ve been learning. And of course, it’s been fun to hang out with my whole stage for two weeks J
Last weekend we took a field trip to a Serere fishing village not too far from the training center for a tree planting activity. A few months ago during PST we had seeded hundreds and hundreds of tree sacks to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the Peace Corps, and in memory of all the volunteers who have served in Senegal, and this past Friday we out planted seven or eight hundred of them. I was excited because it was a Serere village. Anyways, had a lot of fun, got dirty, learned how to use a pick axe…have the blisters to prove it.
I am here for a few more days, and then we have a meeting for SeneGAD, which I explained in my previous post. Again, if you are interested in donating to the girls scholarship fund the link is right here: https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=685-181
Once that wraps up, I’ll be heading back to village just in time for Ramadan. Not quite sure what to expect, but I would imagine that there will be some stories coming out of that experience…
7.7.11
SeneGAD
I am currently in the midst of my first real project as a PCV and would love to share it with all of you. PC Senegal has a special program here that focuses on gender and development, SeneGAD, which works to improve the lives of women and young girls throughout Senegal. Within SeneGAD, there is a program called the Michelle Sylvester Scholarship, that works with girls in the college level, or the equivalent of our middle school system. In Senegal, the rate of enrollment for females is always below that of males, and drops off even more once they reach secondary school. After the fifth or sixth year of schooling, the rate of female dropouts also significantly increases. This can be caused by several factors, such as the family not having the money to provide school fees and supplies, or if the girl is needed in her household to help with cleaning, cooking, etc., or if her family simply doesn't support her educational endeavors, and in some cases the girls are married before they have a chance to finish their schooling. The scholarship identifies nine girls that demonstrate financial need and have a history of academic achievement. The scholarship provides the school fees for each of the girls, three of whom are selected as winners and are also provided with school supplies. The girls are recognized at a ceremony held at the school, and gender-equality events are also held at the school as a way to follow up. I am currently in the midst of the scholarship, and I am working with one of the new volunteers who lives down the road from me. We are doing the scholarship in the town where the students from her village go to college, and next year we hope tot expand to the town where the students from my village go as well. It has been great to have an actual project to do in these first few months, and also to get a chance to work with the girls in my surrounding communities.
This is the SeneGAD website if you want any more information on the scholarship or the other projects that they work on : http://senegad.pcsenegal.org/
And if you have any interest in donating to scholarship fund you can donate to the Senegal Country Fund, and earmark the funds for either SeneGAD or MSS: https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=685-CFD
27.6.11
dispatches from the heart of the peanut basin
A smattering of highlights from my high times in the bush. This is a long one, so brace yourselves.
*Here in the lovely peanut basin, my first month of residence was largely comprised of peanut based activities. massive bags of harvested peanuts are stashed all over the village, and pretty much every woman and child spends all day processing them, and it is quite the process. First you shell all of the peanuts by hand, or occasionally mouth. Then you have to shake all of the peanut shells out of the pile of peanuts. Then you sift all the the peanuts to separate the larger ones from the smaller ones. This gets repeated again to shake out the fragments and halves from the small sized peanuts. Then you spread the peanuts all out on a pan, and individually pick out all the bad ones, rotten, discolored, etc. One 100kg bag of peanuts takes about 4-5 days to complete all of these steps, and as I mentioned, there seems to be an endless supply of peanuts to process. I swear every woman in that village is knee deep in peanuts all day every day.
* I eat alot of mangoes. Like, a LOT of them. I honestly don't know how many more I can take. Luckily, papaya season is right around the corner.
*Here in the lovely peanut basin, my first month of residence was largely comprised of peanut based activities. massive bags of harvested peanuts are stashed all over the village, and pretty much every woman and child spends all day processing them, and it is quite the process. First you shell all of the peanuts by hand, or occasionally mouth. Then you have to shake all of the peanut shells out of the pile of peanuts. Then you sift all the the peanuts to separate the larger ones from the smaller ones. This gets repeated again to shake out the fragments and halves from the small sized peanuts. Then you spread the peanuts all out on a pan, and individually pick out all the bad ones, rotten, discolored, etc. One 100kg bag of peanuts takes about 4-5 days to complete all of these steps, and as I mentioned, there seems to be an endless supply of peanuts to process. I swear every woman in that village is knee deep in peanuts all day every day.
* I eat alot of mangoes. Like, a LOT of them. I honestly don't know how many more I can take. Luckily, papaya season is right around the corner.
*The night of the first real rain storm here I honestly thought the world was ending. It was about one am in the morning when the rain woke me, so I was rather disoriented, clawing around in my mosquito net looking for a flashlight to investigate. My hut has a tin roof, which magnified the sound – I feel like any description would fall short, but the rain pounding on the tin seemed to me to have the water pressure of a fire hose, if you can picture that, and the cement walls amplified the effect, making the sound reverberate loudly around the room. The timbers in the ceiling were vibrating, causing a slight shower of sawdust to rain down all around me, and when I woke in the morning I found a chunk of cement that had loosed itself from the ceiling sitting pretty in the middle of my room. Like I said, I though the world was coming to an end! It just rained again the other day, so it seems that rainy season really has arrived, and I am only just beginning to understand how it is going to affect my life. For instance, the road into my village is going to become a river of mud, quite literally. I really don't even think the persistent donkey cart could make it through, and certainly not my shiny new Peace Corps bike. That leaves walking. In the mud. In flip flops...so I may be in village for alot of the coming months. Kaolack, my regional city, and Thies, where I will be for training in July, are also going to be FILTHY after the rains, which will make getting around just that much more of an adventure. Think rivers of sewage where streets should be. I have a feeling that I will be investing in some rain boots. Apparently the rains also bring and abundance of infections and bugs, in addition to the suffocating humidity. And while this all sounds, well rather horrible actually, I am super excited about rainy season. First of all, I love rain storms, and thunder and lightening, and the gales here put a late-summer New England hurricane to shame. With the rain also comes the green - the sparse savannah that I am currently surrounded with is going to explode with vegetation, and after four months of nothing but sand and bush, I could really go for some flora right now. And while the humidity leading up to a storm is, like I said, suffocating, the brief cool that follows it is phenomenal! In my mind, that makes it all, the mud, the gook, the nasty staph infections, the bugs every where, the humidity that makes my hair stand on end, all worth it, just for those few hours of respite from the heat.
*I have read seven or eight books in my several weeks at site. I have a bit of free time here, if you haven’t guessed. I feel like the sudden void of English in my life has given me a great new appreciation for the written word, and I am constantly craving something new to read. I have loved each and every book that I have read so far, so if you need any recommendations, look to the side, and if you have any recommendations for me, send them along!
*I returned home one evening after spending the day out of village to find a little surprise waiting for me on my bed - one of the friendly household chickens had decided to lay an egg on my pillow. I was at first bewildered, then confused and really just curious as could be about how exactly this egg had landed smack dab in the middle of my pillow. I went outside with what must have been a look of surprise, confusion and amusement to show my family the unexpected egg. They were unimpressed. This is how the conversation with my father went:
Me: "Look at what I found on my bed!"
Dad: "It's an egg."
Me: "Yes, I know its an egg, but it was on my bed!"
Dad: "Do you know chicken eggs? Does America have chicken eggs?"
Me: "Yes! I know chicken eggs, America has chicken eggs. I know eggs. I do not know why the egg is on my bed?"
Dad: "A chicken was in your room."
Me: "Yes, I know, but why?"
Dad: "I don't know."
This went on for like 15 minutes. I have pretty limited serere when it comes to ask interrogative questions about chickens. The family all sort of just gave that smile and shake of the head, which I have taken to mean, "Oh, our silly little toubab!" The next morning I was sweeping my room out a bit, and had the door open, and this rather persistent chicken kept trying to sneak in. It took me a minute, but I realized that this must have been the momma chicken looking for her egg - which, by the way, I had eaten for breakfast...tasty. She kept running into my hut, and I eventually had to shut the door to keep her out, and she made quite the ruckus outside banging against my tin door. When I finished cleaning, I ducked my head out, and she was gone, so I went outside to sit with the family for a while. A few hours later, when I went back to my room, there she was, sitting on the pillow again. I grabbed one of my sisters, and we got the chicken, who had laid two more eggs. This time, everyone though it was pretty funny. I mean really, a chicken laying eggs on my pillow! The told me sort of jokingly that we could kill it if it came back again, and I'm not gonna lie, I could really go for some chicken right about now, but I feel like wishing a chicken dead is just bad karma, especially since I keep eating all of her eggs. The most curious thing is, no one can figure out how she is getting into the room. I leave my back door open, but my backyard is entirely walled off, and connected to another backyard that is also walled off. So this chicken must have some sort of super bionic power to be seeking out my lil corner of the compound. I guess on the bright side, breakfast has been better!
*Saw my first scorpion. They are small, and scary, and I do not like them.
*There are these two turkeys that live in the compound across the way from me, the only turkeys that I have seen in Senegal thus far; makes me miss Thanksgiving terribly! This one day, as I was sitting under a tree with some of the ladies shelling peanuts, we saw one of the turkeys blaze past us, shortly followed by a pack of boys, there must have been at least thirty of them. I'm not sure what set this fowl incident off (HA), but those boys were determined to catch that bird, and unfortunately for them, this turkey seemed smarter than most. I was told by the "peanut gallery," if you will, that turkeys are very, very dumb. We proceeded to watch the boys and the bird streak across the village, through every bush or tree, over and under every fence, and stumbling over a few village elders as well. This went on for a good half an hour as me and the peanut gallery (yep, I'm stickin with that one), watched in amusement. Alas, the children were unsuccessful, and the the crafty bird escaped to live another day - but hopefully not too many more days, because turkey sounds spectacularly delicious right now!
*People here, well mothers really, love to hand me their babies, which always puts me a little on edge because I seem to have missed the life lesson where they teach the proper way to hold a baby, especially important to know, I would think, when the child in question is like three days old. To make it that much better, the babies are almost always crying hysterically because I scare the living daylights out of them. They don't know what I am exactly, but they know that they don't like me holding them! This practice came to a close, however, after a particularly displeased baby decided to pee on me. I have since decided to respectfully decline and invitations to hold the babies of my village.
*One of the greatest perks of living in the middle of nowhere with no electricity are the stars. I can see more of the stars than I could ever dream of seeing at home. Seriously, someone needs to send me a constellation map. The big dipper sits comfortable right on top of the main house in my compound, and it makes me quite nostalgic for home, as a would always gaze up at the big dipper as I drove up my drive way. I love that the stars follow you wherever you go. I have also seen more shooting stars than I can count, which adds up to a lot of wishes! Laying on a mat and gazing up at the stars is definitely the best way to end your day.
Me: "Look at what I found on my bed!"
Dad: "It's an egg."
Me: "Yes, I know its an egg, but it was on my bed!"
Dad: "Do you know chicken eggs? Does America have chicken eggs?"
Me: "Yes! I know chicken eggs, America has chicken eggs. I know eggs. I do not know why the egg is on my bed?"
Dad: "A chicken was in your room."
Me: "Yes, I know, but why?"
Dad: "I don't know."
This went on for like 15 minutes. I have pretty limited serere when it comes to ask interrogative questions about chickens. The family all sort of just gave that smile and shake of the head, which I have taken to mean, "Oh, our silly little toubab!" The next morning I was sweeping my room out a bit, and had the door open, and this rather persistent chicken kept trying to sneak in. It took me a minute, but I realized that this must have been the momma chicken looking for her egg - which, by the way, I had eaten for breakfast...tasty. She kept running into my hut, and I eventually had to shut the door to keep her out, and she made quite the ruckus outside banging against my tin door. When I finished cleaning, I ducked my head out, and she was gone, so I went outside to sit with the family for a while. A few hours later, when I went back to my room, there she was, sitting on the pillow again. I grabbed one of my sisters, and we got the chicken, who had laid two more eggs. This time, everyone though it was pretty funny. I mean really, a chicken laying eggs on my pillow! The told me sort of jokingly that we could kill it if it came back again, and I'm not gonna lie, I could really go for some chicken right about now, but I feel like wishing a chicken dead is just bad karma, especially since I keep eating all of her eggs. The most curious thing is, no one can figure out how she is getting into the room. I leave my back door open, but my backyard is entirely walled off, and connected to another backyard that is also walled off. So this chicken must have some sort of super bionic power to be seeking out my lil corner of the compound. I guess on the bright side, breakfast has been better!
*Saw my first scorpion. They are small, and scary, and I do not like them.
*There are these two turkeys that live in the compound across the way from me, the only turkeys that I have seen in Senegal thus far; makes me miss Thanksgiving terribly! This one day, as I was sitting under a tree with some of the ladies shelling peanuts, we saw one of the turkeys blaze past us, shortly followed by a pack of boys, there must have been at least thirty of them. I'm not sure what set this fowl incident off (HA), but those boys were determined to catch that bird, and unfortunately for them, this turkey seemed smarter than most. I was told by the "peanut gallery," if you will, that turkeys are very, very dumb. We proceeded to watch the boys and the bird streak across the village, through every bush or tree, over and under every fence, and stumbling over a few village elders as well. This went on for a good half an hour as me and the peanut gallery (yep, I'm stickin with that one), watched in amusement. Alas, the children were unsuccessful, and the the crafty bird escaped to live another day - but hopefully not too many more days, because turkey sounds spectacularly delicious right now!
*People here, well mothers really, love to hand me their babies, which always puts me a little on edge because I seem to have missed the life lesson where they teach the proper way to hold a baby, especially important to know, I would think, when the child in question is like three days old. To make it that much better, the babies are almost always crying hysterically because I scare the living daylights out of them. They don't know what I am exactly, but they know that they don't like me holding them! This practice came to a close, however, after a particularly displeased baby decided to pee on me. I have since decided to respectfully decline and invitations to hold the babies of my village.
*One of the greatest perks of living in the middle of nowhere with no electricity are the stars. I can see more of the stars than I could ever dream of seeing at home. Seriously, someone needs to send me a constellation map. The big dipper sits comfortable right on top of the main house in my compound, and it makes me quite nostalgic for home, as a would always gaze up at the big dipper as I drove up my drive way. I love that the stars follow you wherever you go. I have also seen more shooting stars than I can count, which adds up to a lot of wishes! Laying on a mat and gazing up at the stars is definitely the best way to end your day.
17.5.11
into the wilderness
Just wanted to give one last shout out before I head into my village - I'll be going dark for several weeks, but I promise some enthralling posts upon my return!
Miss and love you all!!
P.S. I finally have an address and a list of care package suggestions...hint hint...
Miss and love you all!!
P.S. I finally have an address and a list of care package suggestions...hint hint...
15.5.11
OFFICIALLY a PCV
I am now a real life Peace Corps Volunteer! How exciting!
We had our long-awaited swearing in ceremony the other day, Friday the 13th actually. The ceremony took place at the Ambassador’s residence, which inspired a new life goal of mine: become an ambassador. The ceremony was really great; we were all dressed up in traditional-ish Senegalese clothes, and the American Ambassador, along with our Country Director and a few Senegalese Ministry officials were there, along with a sizeable chunk of the ex-pat community in Dakar, including some former volunteers. Everyone gave some lovely speeches, in an interesting mix of French, English and some native languages, and then we all stood up and recited the oath of office, and presto-change-o, we were real volunteers!
In Senegal there are quite a few native languages spread around the country, but the four major groups are Wolof, Pulaar, Mandinke, and of course my favorite, Serere. Each group from our stage had one member give a speech in their native language, and the Sereres picked me! Writing it turned out to be quite the task, but I’d like to think that it came out ok :)
This is a clip from the ceremony - you can all watch it and pretend to understand haha.
We had our long-awaited swearing in ceremony the other day, Friday the 13th actually. The ceremony took place at the Ambassador’s residence, which inspired a new life goal of mine: become an ambassador. The ceremony was really great; we were all dressed up in traditional-ish Senegalese clothes, and the American Ambassador, along with our Country Director and a few Senegalese Ministry officials were there, along with a sizeable chunk of the ex-pat community in Dakar, including some former volunteers. Everyone gave some lovely speeches, in an interesting mix of French, English and some native languages, and then we all stood up and recited the oath of office, and presto-change-o, we were real volunteers!
In Senegal there are quite a few native languages spread around the country, but the four major groups are Wolof, Pulaar, Mandinke, and of course my favorite, Serere. Each group from our stage had one member give a speech in their native language, and the Sereres picked me! Writing it turned out to be quite the task, but I’d like to think that it came out ok :)
This is a clip from the ceremony - you can all watch it and pretend to understand haha.
Spring 2011 Swear In Ceremony
On a slightly related note, CNN had done a story about the Peace Corps turning fifty, and they followed a girl from my stage through the Peace Corps process. They just aired it, so here is the link if you want to check it out. I mayyyy be in the background somewhere.
On a slightly related note, CNN had done a story about the Peace Corps turning fifty, and they followed a girl from my stage through the Peace Corps process. They just aired it, so here is the link if you want to check it out. I mayyyy be in the background somewhere.
CNN - Peace Corps Turns Fifty
I am currently at my regional house in the city of Kaolack, where all the volunteers are helping us get ready for install. I will be here for a few days, and then Tuesday afternoon I will be dropped off in my village, eek! I am really, really excited to have finally reached this step. Almost a year and a half ago I began this process, and it has all been leading up to this! Village life! We have this five-week challenge, where if you stay in village for your first five weeks, which is really the best method for integration, our country director will host a dinner for us at his house with actual, real American food – probably the best incentive out there for a starving volunteer!
I really have no idea how often I will try to get myself to a computer, so for the next two months don’t expect too much haha, but I will find one eventually. After two months we go back to the training center for IST, which is where we get to learn some serious tech activities, and I will have lots of internet there and I promise to respond to every one of your emails :)
Love and miss you all!
I am currently at my regional house in the city of Kaolack, where all the volunteers are helping us get ready for install. I will be here for a few days, and then Tuesday afternoon I will be dropped off in my village, eek! I am really, really excited to have finally reached this step. Almost a year and a half ago I began this process, and it has all been leading up to this! Village life! We have this five-week challenge, where if you stay in village for your first five weeks, which is really the best method for integration, our country director will host a dinner for us at his house with actual, real American food – probably the best incentive out there for a starving volunteer!
I really have no idea how often I will try to get myself to a computer, so for the next two months don’t expect too much haha, but I will find one eventually. After two months we go back to the training center for IST, which is where we get to learn some serious tech activities, and I will have lots of internet there and I promise to respond to every one of your emails :)
Love and miss you all!
almost there...
Hey hey!
I know I have been a lil neglectful of the blog for the past few weeks, so I am going to attempt to update you all on what I've been up to here in Senegal.
About three weeks ago I went on my "demyst," which is a week long stay with the volunteer who will be my closest neighbor. It was really awesome to check out village life, and see what her job is actually like. Anddd I had to pull water from a well for the first time. It was super difficult and I still have the blisters to prove it haha.
We were also able to stop by my village briefly, where I was renamed Diama Ndaiye (pronounced Jemma N-Jai, rhymes with I). My father, who by the way is the chief of the village, informed us that he wanted to keep his sheep in my backyard...so that had to be fixed haha. We also had a workshop here at the center for all of our counterparts, who are the people in our villages who will be working with us for the next two years. It was alot of work because everything had to be done in the local language, but it was a really great opportunity to meet and spend time with my counterparts.
This past week was our last week in our training villages, so I had to say goodbye to my lovely family there. I had a great time there with them, and I am really going to miss them! They were so welcoming and so great when it came to having patience with my language skills. I took a million pictures with them my last afternoon there, which, inshallah, will some day get uploaded, but I will add a few here so you can see how awesome they are.
These are a couple of the kids in my family - the little mischievous one in the middle is named Jaxat (pronounced Jahat) and she is by far my favorite thing in the worldddd! She is so cute and such a little troublemaker - quick shout out, she reminds me for some reason of my cousin Meg when she was little, not sure if it's the look of her or her crazy rambunctious attitude, or both, but that is also probably why I love her so much haha. I also took far too many pictures of her :)
Swear In is Friday the 13th - so I guess we are the luckiest stage? Almost a PCV!
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