The rains have come!

This has been, by far, the hottest and driest period of my life. If I hadn't gone to Dakar and the Casamance for some vacation time during my stay in Senegal, during which time it got chilly enough for me to wear a long sleeve shirt, I could have gone about 9 months over 70 degrees, most of it over 90 degrees. And I hadn't seen any precipitation for.... 4 months? When I get home it'll still be hot in Maryland, and uncomfortably humid. It's still hot here for the moment, but the rains have come!

I went to my friend Bocar's in Doumga Wouro Alpha, a village about 20 miles from Ourossogui, for the weekend. We didn't do much by American standards, just really sat around, talked, ate, and drank tea Senegalese style. The first big storm came when I was there. The wind started kicking up, the horizon was brown with sand, and we moved to get out of the path of the storm. Still, at the beginning we stood outside as the sand cloud came over us. Check it out:



After a small sand storm, it opened up, and started pouring. It is ridiculously messy here when it rains. Many roads end up flooded, with trash floating around, and mud everywhere else. Also, after the rains a lot of frogs come out. This triggered a couple interesting and funny conversations. First of all, most Senegalese are terrified of frogs. I don't know if most people think they're gross or if they're actually scared, but when I picked one up people around me ran away. My friend Bocar said there's a huge frog that hangs out near their house that tried to attack him one night. They swear frogs bite, but I haven't ever seen a rabid frog.



Even if they're scared of them, they use frogs for traditional medicine. No, they don't make them into a stew or anything; they think the French are weird for eating frog legs, and assumed it was just "the Chinese" who did that. But sometimes when they have headaches they put a frog on their forehead, because that way the headache will go into the frog. My friend, albeit scared of the amphibians, showed some compassion here. He said, "I don't like to do that because then the frog will have a headache, and frogs can't go to the health post and get medicine." Touching, and hilarious....

Y En A Marre

So the Senegalese people have really had enough. In the midst of the Jasmine Revolution (I think that's what it's been called, right?) in the Arab world, the Senegalese president Son Excellence Maître Abdoulaye Wade has been asked to leave office. This will not and probably should not happen yet, but he is, quite simply, ridiculous. This is his second term, and earlier in his presidency he changed the constitution so that he could run a third time. People were scared of this, and that he would impose his son Karim Wade as president.

He then tried to pass an election law saying that, if the incumbent won at least 25% of the vote in the first round of the presidential election, he would win another term. A quarter of the population! Luckily this was rejected, because a quarter of the country can't elect a president.

The other day, June 23, 2011, he tried to introduce a law to the Senegalese parliament to add a vice president post. People got angry, for a number of reasons. First of all, Senegal already has a prime minister, which, although this title doesn't mean much in this country it seems, makes a vice president unnecessary. Adding a vice president into the mix this late into the campaign (the election is in February) means that all the other parties would have to find suitable vice presidential candidates. Also, it would be another unnecessary, overpaid government post from a political party that spends too much money in order to look like big men.

The opposition walked out of parliament, and people began to riot in the streets. Opposition youth demonstrated, followed in turn by Wade supporters. It's hard to tell who did what, but some buildings were ransacked, cars flipped and burnt, stones thrown, and riot police in a good part of downtown Dakar. Wade repealed the law, which is more or less the end of respect for him as a president. Still, there are some of his hardcore PDS supporters who yelled things like "We're with Wade until the death!" Some famous imams have predicted blood during the election. I hope not.

You eat so many beans!

It's about time, a month from my departure date, for me to talk a little more about Senegalese culture. There's two phenomena I wanted to talk about today: the joking relationship, and wrestling.

The joking relationship is referred to as "cousinage" or dendirado in Fulani. Senegalese culture is known as being full of laughs. It seems like most television programs are comedies, Senegalese people are constantly making fun of each other, and I have probably seen more deep, hearty laughs here than I've seen in the Western world in the past few years. The cousinage is part of that.

Essentially, you're allowed to make fun of people according to both your ethnic group and your family/last name. For example, my last name here is Diack, which is a last name that has a joking relationship with the last names Ndiaye, Diop, and Sy. The Fulani ethnic group, which most of the people here I know belong to, also having a joking relationship with the Serrer ethnic group.

So anytime I see a Diop, an Ndiaye, a Sy, or a Serrer, I can point at them and yell, laughing, "You’re a bean eater!" A lot of the joking insults revolve around beans, because not only are they really cheap, indicating a low social status, but they also make you fart a lot. There's some other insults, including "Slave!," which I haven't been able to bring myself to say….

Ok, so on with wrestling. This is by far the most popular sport in Senegal. Football (soccer) is a close second, and soccer jerseys are pretty much the clothes of choice. But wrestling is out of control. Taxi and minibus drivers who don't have that much money in the first place buy little laminated cards of their favorite wrestlers to tack up in their vehicles. People go to wrestling matches, waiting for hours before the first match to start, and sometimes getting in huge fights in support of their wrestler/neighborhood.

The wrestling is hard to describe. There's more preparation as there is wrestling, as each fighter has a specific set of rituals, and a dance routine to drums. The step through spiritual ropes several times, pour milk over their heads, and strut around the ring, provoking the crowd for at least an hour before their fight starts.

Traditional fighting doesn't include hitting, but today's more violent version includes lots of punching. Two guys face each other, hitting if they can before getting close enough to lock up, standing, and slowly attempt to wrestle or throw the other person to the ground. The first person who is thrown to the ground or has his shoulder touched, loses. Fights last no more than 6 minutes, which is a very long match, and some are finished in a matter of seconds.

Here's an example of a lamba, aka wrestling match:

St Louis Jazz Fest

There's a lot to write about, and not that much time left. I don't know if anybody actually reads this, anyways, but here goes.

The last couple weeks have been very eventful. I've been traveling a lot, so it's been tiring. I went to Ranérou on June 4 for a public declaration of female genital cutting (FGC) and child and forced marriages. The event was good, but I don't really want this blog to be about my work, so if you want to know more about it check out the Tostan blog. I also went to and came back from Ranérou yesterday. It's 2-3 hours each way, not very far in distance but the road is difficult. It's so bumpy, hot, and dusty, and yesterday we had to stop numerous times for somebody who was road-sick.

On Monday, the day before yesterday, I got back from a trip to St. Louis for the Jazz Festival. On Thursday I left Ourossogui early and got to St. Louis in the evening. The weekend was a lot of fun. I stayed at a place called Le Pelican, which was alright. It had a compound with four huts that sleep 3-4 people attached to a building with 5 or 6 rooms and a restaurant. The restaurant was overpriced and out of stock of most things, and some of the rooms were overpriced for what they were. I think it's always awkward when places try to be nice by having Western toilets, but those toilets don't have seats, nor toilet paper. Using a Western toilet Turkish-toilet-style is really awkward.

The restaurant not having change brings up an issue for us, the toubabs in Senegal. It's a big pet peeve, because when we get money out of the ATMs here, they spit out 10,000 and 5,000 CFA bills, $10-20 approximately. If you don't live in a big town and you're not doing a lot of gift buying, you don't spend much money here. Getting change for a 25CFA bag of water or 100 CFA loaf of bread is usually unrealistic if you pay with a 10,000 bill. But, that said, if you're spending a couple thousand CFA at a hotel restaurant they should be able to give you change. They should have a bank account, and be able to go to the bank every so often to get smaller bills. Le Pelican didn't do that. But most people who sell goods here don't understand that they would make more money if they had change. Many vendors make money during the day but don't bring any of it to work the next day. Sometimes here you try and buy a mango or something and they don't have change, so you don't buy it.

Sorry for that rant; I'll continue with the St. Louis summary. The weekend was really fun. The night when most people were around, a Peace Corps volunteer based in St Louis reserved a bar, where he DJed and there were drink specials. Unfortunately a few people got pickpocketed by a crowd of people hanging out in the street, who promptly ran away when the police showed up. My friends and I went to another bar nearby, where there was great Senegalese music, some dude swallowing fire, and me dancing like an idiot. Definitely the best night I've had in Senegal.

Unfortunately the next night I got sick. We had gone out to the Institut Français for happy hour and to listen to Chico Correa and the Electronic Band (kind of cheesy name, but really good band from Brazil). Then to dinner at Le Kora, which was simply but tasty. At the end of the meal, I decided I needed to go back to the hotel. I had a fever that only lasted for a couple of hours, which was weird but now I'm better and I think that's the end of it. But yeah, St. Louis is a cool town. More laid back than Dakar. Stuff is cheaper, there's really good food, and I was able to go bodysurfing a little bit. If you go, check out the French-owned Le Kora restaurant, the Vietnamese restaurant called La Saigonnaise, and a Senegalese place called La Pirogue, which has basic but good meat, seafood, and Senegalese food. Oh, and the last night I stayed at the Atlantide, also known at the Auberge de la Jeunesse. It was basic but not too expensive.

Coming home, I left St Louis on Sunday around 3:30 PM, which was too late. I got a carapide, a mini-bus, for the first ~50km leg, then a bus another 100km or so before I got dropped off, 25km from my final destination of Ndioum, at 11:15 PM. It took forever and I was about to spend the night on the road. Luckily a couple women who were going to the same town got somebody to pick them up, so I got to the Peace Corps house in Ndioum a little after midnight, crashed, and made it back to Ourossogui the next day. Kind of a logistical nightmare, but a fun little vacation. More to come really soon, on topics instead of my daily life.

Pfft, the Casamance isn't dangerous...

I like the Fouta region a lot, but coming back here two days ago was a test of patience and sanity. Normally drivers up here have to swerve around a lot, and sometimes drive halfway or completely off the asphalted road to avoid potholes. It seemed like my driver was trying another technique, swerving to hit the potholes instead. And the horns of a bull, which almost took out a village chief sitting in the front seat.

When my twin brother and slightly older sister were young my dad would drive home from Canada or from Maine in a day, for 16 hours or so, so that he didn't have to spend two days in the car with us. Those rides were long. This ride, at 12 hours, felt 7 times longer. Senegalese public transportation, at least from Dakar to Ourossogui, is a feat.

I've been readapting the last couple days to the heat up here, because I spent almost two and a half weeks in Dakar and the Casamance region. A few volunteers have either left or are leaving soon, so I was going to Dakar for a long weekend to hang out one last time and wish them off. That turned into staying for a week, and then leaving from Dakar for my vacation. Dakar was awesome, because I got to unwind for a week, hanging out with volunteers and other people, drink beers, get different foods. Besides the boat incident mess, it was great. Mainly the food, which included real coffee, sushi, Ethiopian food, good French bread, and a barbecue with chicken wings, steak and sesame slaw, mango salsa, etc.



So anyways, on Friday, May 20th I left on the ferry to Ziguinchor, the capital of the Casamance region. They want you to board early because the Senegalese are really late for everything, so all in all I was on the ship almost 20 hours. Airplane seat on the way there, which is still over $30 for toubabs, and there was a French dude snoring obnoxiously loud. So at least a lot of people got a good laugh at him, but not much sleep. In the morning, we started up the river to Ziguinchor, which was beautiful. Lots of people out fishing in small dugout canoes, dolphins swimming along the ferry, and what not to look at.


Look Mom, lifeboats! The ferry down to Ziguinchor is really nice and safe, due in large part to an awful accident about 10 years ago when I think 600 or so people drowned...

I got off the ship and tried to get a visa to Guinea-Bissau, but the consulate was closed so I went and got a beer at the Hotel Kadiandoumagne, which was very beautiful and on the water. Spent the day attempting to get a visa, but eventually decided that I wasn't going to Guinea Bissau and spent the night in my NGO's office in Zig. Chilled with the guard and his friend talking and drinking tea, and got some rest that night before heading out to Kafountine the next morning.

Kafountine is a cool town in Haute Casamance, not far from the border with the Gambia, with a mix of fishermen, Rastamen, and some European settlers. The sept-place ride there was interesting, because I had to get out of the car a few times and show my passport to the military, who have checkpoints for Casamance separatist rebels. So now I'll go off on a detour to talk about the rebels. Ziguinchor is safe because some rebels have family there, and because it's a big enough place that carrying out sporadic attacks is difficult. Most of the attacks they carry out are between Kolda and Ziguinchor, the opposite direction of where I went, and occur on random passenger vehicles at night. The freedom fighters still fighting today are the real diehards of the group, and they're not respected by the majority of the population. The Casamance has many different ethnicities, but the rebels are primarily Diola, the biggest ethnic group in the region. I didn't really want to run into the rebels, but I have heard stories and met people who have drank tea with the rebels, and never had any problems. And what was always in the back of my mind is that Baltimore, MD is WAY more dangerous than the Casamance, even without freedom fighters.



So yeah, Kafountine was a cool town. I stayed at the Esperanto Lodge, owned by this French guy Eric for the last 14 years. I was the only client because this is the off season, so he knocked the price down for me (to about $22/night), and we actually ended up hanging out and talking for a while a couple nights. He lives there with his immediate family, absolutely loves the Casamance, and runs a nice place. It has a maximum capacity around 25 people. I had one of two rooms in a hut, which had a double bed, closet, shelves, a sitting area out front, and a bathroom with toilet paper (gasp!) and hot showers (HELL YEAH!). I haven't been missing hot showers because, despite the 110+ degree temps here in the Fouta, the water heats up at night so I can just rinse off the sweat before sweating again. If you're on the coast of the Casamance, and especially in November through January, it can actually get a little chilly with the wind so hot showers, blankets, sweatshirts are all nice. Esperanto also had a nice bar/restaurant with really good food, and a nice area to chill in. The garden is great; the two local gardeners have nurseries where they're growing more coconut trees, palm trees, etc. to plant around the lodge. Plus beach access, and when there's more people around, a little bar on the beach with beer and cushions and chairs and what not for the beach. Definitely worth a trip if you're ever in the Casamance, or you should just go there anyways.







My time in the southwestern region of Senegal was pretty quiet. I mainly chilled on the beach, relaxed, read, walked around town. I also rented a bike from one of the gardeners one day, and the day I got there I walked down the beach to see the return of the fishermen. This was featured on Thalassa, a French show about ocean life and anything maritime, and is amazing. The fishermen's village is empty during the day except for men repairing nets and working on new pirogues, motor mechanics, etc. At night the beach is full of traders and townspeople. As the pirogues come back with their catches and get close to shore, boys run out with plastic bins, get fish, and wade back balancing them on their heads up to the fish markets. There's a lot of activity, and it's really cool to watch.



After a few days in Kafountine I had to head back to Ziguinchor, and catch the ferry back to Dakar on Thursday. I kind of didn't want to leave Kafountine, because it really is an amazing place. Fertile, even in the dry season there's a lot of stuff growing, the people are nice, and it's a relaxed environment that would be easy to live in for a long time. But after a 70km 4 hour trip back to Zig, I met another couple toubabs who were passing through at Kadiandoumagne for a beer, got some sleep, and left the next morning.

The boat on the way back was a little better because I had a bed in an 8-person cabin. Actually there were 11 of us, with 3 little ones, who either cried or vomited periodically during the night. So I got a little more rest anyways. Spent a couple more days in Dakar hanging out and barbecuing, then headed back to the Fouta. Here I am, sweating as I write. Today I'm going to Ranérou, possibly for up to 6 days, as we prepare for and participate in a public declaration for the abandonment of FGC and child and forced marriages. Most likely won't have internet, but I'll be sure to take good pictures, and post a lot more when I get back.

A change of scenery

It's been getting hotter and hotter in the Fouta. Yesterday it was 117 degrees. Luckily I wasn't there.

I've been in Dakar for a week now. The trip back here was kind of a pain, even though I got a quick ride from Ourossogui to Ndioum last Wednesday. The next morning I got up at 5:45, waited around until 8:00 for my sept-place (old beat down Renault station wagon that fits the driver and seven passengers) to leave. The problem was, I was still the only person in it and the driver figured he'd pick other people up along the way. It shouldn't have worked out that way, and I ended up having to switch cars in Saint-Louis, where we waited for the vehicle to fill up and then got a faster ride to Dakar. Outside of St. Louis I bought about 10 big, ripe mangos for approximately $2.20. I definitely want to spend a couple days in and around Thiès in July before I leave; it's a cool town, and a good spot to buy Senegalese baskets.

Since I got to Dakar it's been pretty chill. I've been working out of our Dakar office, which is a little different. Mainly because I look like a bum; I don't care what I look like as much out in the region, so I wear t-shirts. We went out to Ethiopian food the other night, which was overpriced, but it was cool to go out with a big group and the ambiance was awesome. One of the coolest settings for a restaurant I've ever seen, with low tables and couches and great art all over the place.

On Sunday we went to Ile de la Madeleine, which was kind of a crazy day. The island is supposedly a UNESCO sight, although there's not much to see. A couple big baobabs, a decent view, and some tidal pools to swim in. We were having a nice, relaxing day until another pirogue (long wooden boats) with some friends and friends of friends tried to beach where we were. It's this sketchy little cove with waves breaking into rocks, and you have to make a left once you get in past/during the break to beach. Their boat had way too many people in it (as did ours actually, but we got there during low tide), the piroguiers couldn't control it, and it tipped. We ran over to help pull people out of the water before they got slammed up against some rocks. Unfortunately, people from both groups ended up with sea urchin needles all over hands and feet and some nasty cuts. After we waited around for the tide to come up far enough for the break to not be dangerous, we caught rides back to shore, albeit without much confidence, and people went and got treated. We were pretty pissed off at the guys working the boats, who wanted to "negotiate" the price of the second boat, despite them all losing cameras and cell phones and having to go to the hospital. So yeah, I don't see a point in going to the island.

At least that night we ordered sushi. It's not terribly cheap (Dakar is actually very expensive if you try and eat like you do in the U.S.), but it was decent. I've been craving sushi, because it's the embodiment of fresh food that I don't get in the Fouta.

Tomorrow I'm going on vacation to the Casamance region, in the south of Senegal. It's supposed to be beautiful and the Diola culture is supposed to interesting, but tourism to the area has been limited for a while now due to separatists. There are factions of rebels hiding in the jungle in the Gambia and Guinea Bissau that occasionally attack soldiers and conduct raids on cars after dark. So I'm definitely going to be taking certain travel precautions, but I'm really excited about my trip. I'll be back at the end of next week, and will post details and pictures then.



I didn't take that picture either, but it's an example of a pirogue.

Ranérou

I just got back from Ranérou, which I really want to post about. Before I do that, though, I should post a little bit about the geography here so you know. The coordination that I've been working in consists of the administrative regions of Saint-Louis and Matam. The départements of Saint-Louis, Dagana, and Podor are in the first region, and Matam, Kanel, and Ranérou are in the second. It's an incredibly vast region to work in, over 500km end to end. And the fact that the national "highway" turns to a pothole puzzle after Saint-Louis doesn't make traveling any easier.

The French for pothole is nid-de-poule, or "chicken's nest." Here they say there are too many nests and not enough chickens…

Anyways, I have traveled through but not spent any time in Saint-Louis or Dagana yet. I have spent 90% of my time in Matam, where Ourossogui is, and the rest mainly in Podor. I've barely been to Kanel, and I just spent a night in Ranérou. Ranérou is interesting, and drastically different from Ourossogui in many ways.



For one thing, the road to Ranérou is awful. I didn't take any pictures of it, unfortunately, but there is no packed road for most of the trip. Once the rains come in July, it is largely impossible to get to Ranérou, due to seasonal rivers that pop up. But once you get out into Ranérou you realize how beautiful it is. It's dry and dusty, but there are more trees than in Matam. The grass grows taller, despite the herds of animals. Camels and bright blue birds with long tail feathers and orange patches on their chests are common sights. And baobabs! Up north you don't see many baobabs because it's so dry, but in Ranérou there are ancient, enormous baobabs with the pain de singe (monkey's bred) fruit dangling from the branches.



I didn't take that picture, but that's a baobab.

The food is a little different, but what I ate was good. For one thing, the Fulani that inhabit the region are herders so meat is cheaper in Ranérou. They eat more millet as well, because there's not enough water to grow rice. After eating a couple dishes with a big group, I laid down and looked at the stars. There's SO MANY out here. I've mentioned that to a few people, but they're laughed at me. I guess you don't appreciate what you have until you lose it, but this DC metro suburb boy can appreciate some stars. Most nights that I've stared up at the sky and not just collapsed, exhausted, and fell asleep; I've noticed shooting stars.

So after the next day of talking to people and sitting through a meeting, we were on our way back to Ourossogui. Four grown men in the back seat of a pickup's cab is too many, so I climbed into the bed after the first 25 miles. There I was, roaring through the Senegalese countryside, flying past villages of "modern" huts (concrete instead of mud) with my Arab scarf over my face. I probably looked an insane Bin Laden avenger to the other guy in the bed, laughing at how bizarre I looked and occasionally conversing in very basic Pulaar. The sun set, the wind felt amazing after a very hot day, and I felt much less restless than I do sitting around in College Park.


I sound insane, now, too. Anyways, that's it for now folks! More to come soon, probably on Islam since this is kind of a… umm…. complicated time and issue.