Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Happy hay fuss...and Flag Day

Hay fuss means "nothing." It's a favorite response when you ask a kid what they are doing, have done or are going to do. "Hay fuss." That is also what I did today (two words=GLEE. Marathon.). It was a lovely break before going to Kolda for a language training tomorrow.

I taught my little sister in village to say "that's what she said." If you don't understand you might have been living under a rock for quite sometime now...or maybe Africa. Anyway it's the small things that make you smile.



Rainy season is starting to show it's face. My doors don't shut. I am away from site for a week and in that time my brothers are supposed to be installing new doors. Inshallah. The few storms we have had have been refreshing. After only two rains Medina is active with people planting and greenery (weeds) poking out everywhere. Before 97% of what I looked at was beigeish in color. I am loving the new verdant vibe.

Neem. It's a tree that is native to Senegal. It's leaves can be used to make a lotion for mosquito repellent. I taught a big group of women how to make it using my baby Pular. I plan on doing a lot more of this because with rainy season come the mosquitoes and malaria cases.

Mika and I painted a mural at the health hut in my village. It is a woman and child sleeping under a mosquito net. It's supposed to remind people to hang their nets. Our paint brushes fell apart and we finger painted a large percentage of it.

Saturday, June 5, 2010

P.A.P.

So my neighbor Mika and I came up with a P.A.P (Positive Action Plan). This is to prevent us from insanity while integrating into a community that doesn’t speak our language, share our customs, practice our religion, eat our food, etc.

One of the tenants in our P.A.P. is hut painting. Week one Mika visited and we painted a beach scene on my wall. I basically live in a tropical paradise now. We have yet to pimp out his hut but rest assured it will be rockin’.



At the core of our P.A.P. is *WASSADOU WEDNESDAY* This is a highly looked forward to weekly event by Spence, Mika and I. We all meet at the weekly market in a nearby village. There we buy veggies and cold drinks and sit around eating bean sandwiches practicing our sweet new language skills with the people. Then we head to a Campemont on the Gambia River where we enjoy a cold beer, watch the hippos, play games and have ‘toubab’ time. PS: Last time as we left we got screamed at by a baboon...needless to say we all three nervously pedaled as fast as we could away.



Our future P.A.P. endeavors are sure to be as entertaining as the latter. I have proposed a backyard grill in bathing suits with buckets full of bleach water and beach balls so we can pretend we are at the pool/beach....Please send me your fun ideas and I shall bring them up at the next Wassadou Wednesday.

Random tidbits about my new life...

I live in a petting zoo...seriously in the states you could charge admission to a place with this many animals.

I have yet to decide on my least favorite Senegalese animal: roosters, donkeys, goats, man eating spiders... (I consider these an animal based on their fur content)

A little girl cried because she had to sit next to me on public transport. I would guess she was about seven and terrified to sit next to the white woman.

The religious leader (Imam) of my village insists that I learn Arabic in addition to my Pular and recite the Quran....I told him “Si Allah Jabi” (Meaning “if God wills it” and used anytime an outcome is uncertain.)

Personal space is non-existent in Senegal. People will literally stand with their entire body pressed to yours in public places and think nothing of it.

I am an expert at pulling water from the well.

My family doesn’t understand my dislike for spiders but show them a frog and they run...it’s a good mood booster.

I woke up this morning at 3am shivering. As I went to get another sheet I checked the thermometer. 83 degrees...what is wrong with me?

I sleep with a sham wow because I have to wipe my body of dripping sweat approximately every two minutes without exaggeration.

My doorway is four feet high...I will most likely have scoliosis by the time I return.

I eat peanut butter out of a plastic bag.

Almost every single villager I have come in contact with owns something that has a picture of Barrack Obama on it.

Joonie joonie (right now)...could mean in a half hour...or in 4 hours...Arg.

When traveling to bigger villages, towns, cities we white folks constantly hear, “Toubab okkuan cadeau.” Hey white person give me a present.

Things I know how to say in Pular that you wouldn't learn in your first couple years of English: termite mound, poop kettle, goat intestine, braid pick, machete, how many wives do you have? 'Nuff said...

While one the way to Tamba Spence tried to open the door to our public transport and it literally fell off.

PS: A beetle the size of my big toe just clamped onto my big toe...Holy crap I live in Africa? Now I am going to try to fall asleep with visions of attacking beetles in my head...sweet dreams!

Beynguere An e Senegal (My Senegalese Family)

There are 17 of us living in one compound and I am so lucky to say there is not a person I dislike.

*My older sisters are silly and enjoy making fun of me. They make sure that I get my fill of Senegalese culture by dragging me to any village occasion, teaching me the fine art of village cooking (i.e. pounding corn, grinding peanuts and working over an open fire in a smoke filled hut) and attempting to teach me to dance (while mostly falling over laughing at me). Issatou (the sister I am named after) braided my hair the other day and now I am in with the Pula women!

*My brothers are all amazing. My older brothers like to practice Pular with me and insist that I sit and talk with them instead of studying. They have taught me all about work in preparation for rainy season from slash and burning the fields to re-roofing the huts. My younger brothers run, play games and garden with me. My brothers all think it’s funny that a woman likes to run “for sport haha??” (they say) and do other ‘boy’ activities, but I know they love it and its fun to stomp on gender stereotypes.

* The kiddos. My younger sister Ruby is my shadow when she is not in school. She likes to show me off as her toubab and helps me with language, chores, people’s names, etc. There are three little hoodlums in my compound. Fanta is four and attached at the hip with the neighbor girl Ramatou. They are adorable and get into as much shenanigans as possible. Djenabou is two and still scared of me. Mamadu, the one yea old, is gosh darn adorable and the happiest little stinker ever.

*My parents have been pretty low key in my life so far. My mom has never been unfriendly but hasn’t exactly gone out of her way to befriend me. I think she is more reserved and that relationship will come in time. My second mom has been very helpful showing me around the community, taking me to every single compound and patiently waiting for me to write the names of every man, woman and child in Medina. My dad is funny and gets excited every time I use a new word. He likes to check in with me frequently and insist that I shouldn’t be working when “the sun is hot.”

It’s similar to home in that there is never a dull moment, nor a quiet one.

Village Life

So I’ve been in village for almost three weeks now and along with trying to learn Pular I’ve found all sorts of things to fill my time. I’ve been to a wedding and a baptism, both of which showed no resemblance to typical American or Christian customs. I attended Mass in a furno of a hut in languages I don’t comprehend. I have started three garden beds and made soil from scratch because guess what??? It doesn’t exist here.

Last week, I helped with baby weighings and Polio vaccinations, which opened my eyes to how differently the health system of Senegal works. Instead of everyone taking their children to the health post, health workers literally go hut to hut giving vaccinations and handing out anti-parasitic medication. To keep track of who has been vaccinated they mark the fingernails of the children with sharpie and write on the huts in chalk. It seems ridiculous for a health system to be running like this in 2010 but it is honestly more practical in a village setting where otherwise children would never see a health worker.

Most recently I went to a nearby village to do baby weighings. The community was Fulbe, a different kind of Pular. They have different braids, tattooing, dancing and customs. While I was there a wedding for a 14 year old girl took place. It's overwhelming how different people live here. I just thought of my baby sister back home being put into that situation and it made my stomach turn, but here it is an every day reality. I feel so blessed to grow up with education and the freedom to choose my own path in life.

Most of the rest of my time has co-insisted of meeting and greeting people...the school directors, health workers, neighbors, prominent community members, the ladies that sell mangoes, my counterparts, etc. I have ventured out to both Spence and Mika’s sites to see my new Peace Corps brothers and meet their families. This has been a fun insight into their lives and situations while also giving me a chance to practice Pular in new settings, try out public transport and give me a break from my village.