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.

Je m'adapte

I'm getting used to it here. I realized this was definitely true this morning, in a haze at 6:30 when I woke up on my roof. I've been sleeping on the roof for a while now because it's too hot in my bedroom. Outside, especially on the roof, you can get a breeze and you've already escaped the cinder-block oven that's still 90 degrees minimum at night. Anyways, this morning it was 77 degrees with a slight wind, and I was cold underneath my sheet. I guess I'm used to the 110+ temps every day.

I also can't wait for my work day to be over to drink sweetened spiced coffee and eat grilled corn on the cob. Or go get a bag of vanilla-flavored milk. Constantly restless in College Park and Columbia, MD, I've gotten used to sitting around doing absolutely nothing. Spending a weekend day sitting in the same spot for 6 hours is completely normal, accounted there's a bowl of food and tea at some point. I read some here but staring off into the distance is another favorite pastime.

I actually figured out just now that pastime = pass + time; not past + time. That was a revelation.

Anyways, one thing that's definitely taken some getting used to is intimacy here. Husbands and (up to four) wives don't embrace in any way. Not in public anyways, because with as many kids as there are here there has to be some kind of embracing if you know what I mean ;) .... But yeah, Senegalese will change the channel on TV if there's a scene with a couple laying in bed, and of course the 7 year-old from the family I hang out with switch it if there's anything close to kissing. That might be universal for a 7 year-old boy. Girls have cooties everywhere I guess. So, maybe that's the reason intimacy is so different between males here.

In an African Muslim country, where homosexuality isn't a possibility, there are some customs here that would make young American males feel awkward. Homophobes beware, men here will hold your hand for quite a long time while greeting you, or take your hand while walking down the street and not let go. Not strangers of course, but it's not unusual to see two guys walking down the street hand-in-hand or with arms draped over shoulders. And this is no Castro.

I wanted to make another blog post before too long, so here it is. Other than that not much is new. I've been sick a couple times, but feeling better now. Not testing the unfiltered water so much anymore... There's been a lot of people here visiting, including the Spanish NGO Médicos del Mundo. I'm trying to create a partnership with the local Peace Corps volunteers. And figuring out new vacation plans, because going hiking in the Fouta Djalon, Guinea, fell through. Take care, and I'll update again soon.

Photos

Go here to check out photos I've been uploading to a Picasa account.

Yes, I'm gonna talk about politics...

Senegal's fellow ECOWAS member country Cote d'Ivoire is in another bloody conflict, and its other Muslim nations on the African continent have seen all kinds of turmoil. Al Qaida of the Islamic Maghreb is present in Mauritania, just to the north, and other countries in the region supposedly aren't the safest to walk around in as a toubab. So what's the deal with Senegal?

Senegal is the country of peace and hospitality. Since political situations are raging all over the world, I wanted to explain Senegal's. Granted, there's been some problems recently, but not to the extent of the rest of the African continent. A soldier recently set himself on fire (he didn't die though) for soldiers' rights. There are student and teacher strikes because of funding and pay issues, and there's a strong political opposition movement now called "Y En A Marre," or "We're Sick of It."

Senegal is supposedly a model of African democracy. Since it's independence in 1960 it has respected human rights and been on the path to development. Léopold Sedar Senghor, a Christian Serer, was an author who led the negritude movement and became the first president. After his twenty years, he passed off the presidency to fellow Senegalese Democratic Bloc party member Abdou Diouf, who lost the presidential election in 2000 and peacefully stepped down. Although these two presidents, Senghor especially (despite his anti-colonial rhetoric), were criticized for remaining too close to the French system, they still managed importance advances. Senegal, with its richest resource of the peanut, steadily developed and canceled the majority of its debt acquired after independence.

Some people will tell you another story since 2000, when Abdoulaye Wade won the presidency. Supposedly in 2000 only 9% of citizens had electricity, and now 28% do. I heard that on television, but I'm not sure if it's accurate. In any case, people are frustrated, especially in the regions, because there are so many electrical and water outages. The electricity is only so reliable, cutting out occasionally for a day or more at a time. Hopefully tonight's Champions League game will be fine…

Especially up here in the North, close to the river, people are upset. Matam, a town nearby, has few electrical problems because it receives electricity from a hydroelectric dam built upsteam in Mali, the Barrage Malantali. However, in Ourossogui, a mere 7km away, the electricity cuts all the time. So people are frustrated with Wade. He apparently either intends to run for another term, which was disallowed under his presidency in a new constitution, or have his son Karim run. He has a somewhat large support base still, but this would create enormous problems.

I haven't been in Senegal long enough to comment on Wade's ability, especially compared to the presidents before him. But the speeches of his party, the Senegalese Democratic Party, are very Wade-centric. They always seem to be saying "His Honor Mr. Wade did this for the people of Senegal," instead of highlighting the actions of the party or the government as a whole. Whereas the American political system highlights the party, here the individual is the center of the show.

I don't have much to say, but I almost forgot to mention Wade's other problem. He's at least 92 years old. That's the number he gives, but most people say he's hiding that he's actually 95, and some of the opposition claim he's over 100 years old and has to take all different types of pills to get up and make speeches. Anyways, we'll see what pops off in 2012.

a couple very relevant videos

I want this to be a blog with more than my own words and pictures, so here's some more multimedia. The first video is on empathy, and interesting for me, being involved in international development/NGO/life:




And this video is completely relevant because there's no pork here, obviously:

I constantly get told to eat more

It's been a long time since I last posted mainly because I was in another town. I've been pretty busy the last couple weeks traveling around a bit, and got sick a few days. Consuming the unfiltered water here finally taught me a lesson…. But also, Senegal is having a lot of electrical outages, which is in the news a lot and has been for the past months. I'll talk more about this in a future politics-themed post. But for now, since my mommy is worrying if I get enough to eat and if I have a balanced diet…FOOD!

Senegal is most famous for the spicy dish ceebojen (also spelled thieboudienne, among other ways; pronounced cheb-o-jen). That's a Wolof word meaning rice with fish; ceeb=rice, o=with, dienne= fish. Another, albeit less-often prepared dish, is ceeboyap, or rice with meat. Both dishes can either have red rice, which is spiced, or white rice, which is only spiced with white pepper I think. Typical vegetables include cabbage, carrots, onions, potatoes, turnips, eggplant, and squash, although you might also eat some that has fresh green bell pepper, tomato, and cucumber instead. Most Senegalese, if they can afford it, eat this every day for lunch. I might be sick of it after 6 months of eating it most days, but for now at least it's delicious, and relatively healthy. Here's ceebojen:



Dinner varies more, although there are still only a handful of dishes. Most nights, with the family I eat with, we have either basse or hacko. They're both what we call in English "bean-paste" based. The former has peanuts in it and the latter has some time of leaf (can't figure out a translation) and dried fish. When mixed together with the cornmeal, gritty couscous called lacciri they're both really good. Some nights we eat lacciri kassam, couscous with milk, or millet with lait caillé, which I think we call curdled milk in English. Curdled milk sounds gross to most people, but maybe that's not the right translation, because this stuff is tasty and sweet, making it a good combination with the salty millet porridge or good to just drink straight.

Other local foods are:
• dibi, grilled meat with onions and mustard;
• niebbé, spicy beans, with bread or fries or both;
• tapalapa is the local bread;
• ataya is the very strong, sweet tea you sip from 2-oz. glasses;
• meat with onions sauce, fries and veggies is another lunch or dinner dish;
• café touba is coffee sweetened and spiced with nutmeg, ginger, and cloves;
• cornmeal fried doughnuts, soooo good;
• roasted corn-on-the-cob;
• fruit and peanut vendors;
• and I eat a decent amount of egg sandwiches.

I think my diet here is pretty good because I eat with a family so much. The one thing I found that is missing from my diet if I don't go out of my way to replace it is potassium. My muscles were twitching for days a while ago, and I thought I might wake up with a charly horse one night, so since then I've been buying bananas. Tapalapa, imitation nutella and banana sandwiches and instant coffee make for a good start to my day. Here's me with the family I've become very close to, in one of my local get-ups. Take care, hope all is well across whatever ocean or sea you're reading this, and I'll talk to you soon.



P.S. I almost forgot to mention that the Senegalese eat around a large bowl, sharing food with 2-9 other people, usually. Some people will eat with a spoon, but more people eat with their hands. Eating rice with your hands requires some skill of rolling it into a ball in your fist (always with your right hand! left hand is for other things). I've only eaten with my hands a couple times, but it's interesting.

It seems like I always learn more about my identify with my own country when I'm not there

It's been two weeks since I last wrote a post, so I figured it was about time. I've been learning a lot and feeling more and more comfortable here over the past couple weeks. I've had the opportunity to travel around my region a little more, and the travel has taught me a lot. I think the most important personal development this experience is going to bring me is generally making me more humble. Obviously you already have to value humility to live abroad and volunteer, but you really can't appreciate the conditions in which you live until you abandon them.

We take our comforts for granted in the United States because, in most cases, we've had them since we were born. Complaining that the hot water is gone or that I don't feel like cooking dinner for myself one night is put in context when you're in Senegal. Granted that I still live in very comfortable conditions here, I'll now appreciated sit-down toilets, showers, and kitchens much more when I return.

I recently went to a couple towns, one of which is about 35km from Ourossogui, called Mboloyel. This area is really dry, and the water table in Mboloyel is 70-80 meters deep. Since drilling a well and lifting water up from that deep with a rope and a bucket is pretty impossible, the women in the village walk 2km each way to wells in another village, balancing water on their heads so their families can drink, eat, wash clothes, and bathe themselves. Not to mention bring water for the rice and millet they grow, and provide for the animals they raise. The vegetable garden in the village isn't exploited, because they don't have enough water and other materials. There's also no form of health clinic, so when anybody gets hurt or needs to give birth or whatever, the 2km trip needs to be made on foot or on a horse cart.

I miss my family and friends, but I've learned about people's experiences here and know that I'm blessed in that way, too. Senegal, like some other African Muslim countries, has a history of talibé children. Because parents want their children to learn the Quran (and might not want/be able to take care of them), they entrust them to marabouts, Muslim leaders. The children learn the Quran and Arabic, but during most of the day are sent out on the streets to beg. Any money they earn goes to the marabout, and they have to scrounge around for food. Because alms-giving is a tenet of Islam and the experience is seen by some people as necessary for their sons to become men, this practice goes on. Even though they're sometimes beaten by the marabouts and made to sleep out on the streets because they didn't bring back any money, there are talibé everywhere. Seriously, Dakar, every town, and every village they're around singing Muslim songs to request money and/or food. A friend of mine was a talibé and went nine years without seeing his family, from 7 to 16 years old. 9 years! Here's more talibe info:

http://www.talibe.net/

http://tostan.org/web/page/694/sectionid/547/parentid/552/pagelevel/3/interior.asp


Mauritania decided to kick out its African-descent residents in 1989, too, which caused serious problems in the region. The Senegalese didn't like Mauritanians coming and taking business here, so there were massacres on both sides and many people lost family members. Also sad, but anyways, my point was to show how humbling this experience has been so far. Despite the numerous difficulties people live with every day here, they're the nicest people I've lived around. They always take the time to greet each other, ask about each other's family, work, etc. And what little they may have, it will always be shared. I talk more about these values in the future. For now, I'm out. Sorry about the depressing post, so here's some good Senegalese music to cheer you up:

Walking around, trying not to get burnt

cultural schtuff

I'm learning a lot about Senegal, the Fouta region in particular, and working for a non-profit while I'm staying here. The primary purpose of this blog is "cultural awareness," though, so here goes. After almost two weeks in my town, Ourossogui, I'm learning the ropes. I'm really struggling to learn the language here, which I'll talk about in a minute, but I can get around my town and am starting to understand Senegal a little better. What I've been most happy to experience is teranga, or hospitality. People say that Senegal is the country of hospitality, and it really is. After eating lunch at a colleague's house for the first time several days ago, he invited me to come eat lunch with them every day. After going there twice more for rice with fish, the typical Senegalese lunch, they invited me over every day for dinner, too! I haven't gone yet (I'm going tonight) but it's astounding how generous that it, albeit completely taken for granted here. It's something most people wouldn't imagine doing in the United States or Europe, so I was surprised but excited at the same time. Besides a guard where I live, there's usually nobody else and going out to eat by myself can get a little lonely. So having the opportunity to eat with a nice family every day is awesome. Of course I'm going to reciprocate as much as I can. We're going to trade Pulaar and English lessons, their 7-year old son asked me to buy him a ball, and I'm going to leave one or two things that are hard to come by here, but valuable in a utilitarian sense anyways.

So on to Pulaar…. It's really hard. There's a few different dialects spoken between different regions of Senegal, Mali, Niger, Guinea, and maybe a couple other locations. Here it's called Pula Futa, and it's completely changed my paradigm of language learning. I just don't understand it. It's complicated because the conjugations don't work the same way. Words can change pretty much completely whether or not they're singular or plural, and there's a lot of words that mean the same thing. Commands or questions like "you do this?" and "she does this?" (same this) might sound completely different. Plus I didn't really have a language training before coming here, so I'm having some difficulties… Excited about it though because some Peace Corps volunteers have picked it up decently after 6 months, so I'm going to work hard to copy them.

The last thing I'll talk about in this post is the "toubab" effect. The word toubab comes from the Arabic word toubib, meaning doctor, or so I've heard anyways. Now it's used throughout a decent part of the world, especially West Africa, to mean foreigner, stranger, or whitey. Everyone will call me toubab here and it generally doesn't bother me. Kids usually just yell it to get a wave or a handshake or a "bonjour, ça va?" so it's typically pretty innocent. I've heard some people get frustrated with it because adults can use it with a somewhat negative connotation, and because a lot of times it accompanies assumed social status. As in "toubab, give me money."



Okay, that's it for the moment. More multi-media posts to come in the near future. Take it easy.

Nothing to do with Senegal, but i really like this song right now

I don't really know what to say....

My world just changed drastically. I was at orientation in Thiès for a few days in a facility with Western toilets, (cold) showers, A/C, and food prepared for me three times a day. 10 hours on pothole-filled roads and I arrived where I'll be living most of the next 6 months, during another electrical outage. Luckily I was able to get a ride in a pick-up truck, otherwise this was the alternative:



Old beat-up station-wagons you cram a driver and seven passengers into.

Since arriving the electricity has been really reliable in Ourossogui, Senegal, but the water goes out most days after about 8:30 before coming back at night. In Dakar there was one night when I was chilling on the roof and needed to get a fleece. Saturday and Sunday it was 102F degrees here (41 for the Europeans reading this). I have no stove, no sink, no working refrigerator, definitely no air conditioning, and the bathroom is a squat toilet and a drain. At first the heat and the concepts that I was going to be walking to buy food and taking bucket showers for the next half a year intimidated me, but now I'm settled in really well. I'm doing fulfilling work for a non-profit that's done and doing really special things in Senegal and other African countries, and starting to slowly pick up the local language. The people here are really nice, and there's Peace Corps Volunteers in the region who are willing to serve as good resources, friends, and Senegalese beer-drinking partners.

I'll get used to cooking for myself over a propane tank, but I think I'll still be buying food out a lot. Breakfast is a loaf of good fresh bread for 20 cents with nutella and instant coffee. Lunch and dinner can be between 400 and 1500 FCFA, or about 80 cents to 3 dollars. There's spicy bean sandwiches, grilled lamb, grilled chicken with fries and salad, pasta, traditional senegalese dishes like cebojeen (sp?) and mafé, and other stuff.

For now I'm pretty settled down, but hopefully soon I should be traveling around the region a little. To give you a little idea of how it looks here, this is behind my office/house complex:




More pictures to come soon, if not more. Peace,

Jonah

Really dirty feet

I've been here in Dakar for a few days now and one big thing I've noticed it how dirty my feet are. The weather here is beautiful, typically in the low 70's Fahrenheit during the day, and I'm wearing sandals all the time. The streets in my neighborhood are all sand, barely paved. Only the major streets and those downtown are paved, so it's resulted in me having constantly dusty feet.

Anyways, that's not the only difference I've noticed here obviously. I got here really early in the morning on Friday and got to the volunteer house in the dark, so I didn't get to see much. I got ready during the flight for my stay here, reading information about my organization's programs, the region I'll be staying in, and watching The Town and My Cousin Vinny. After sleeping a couple hours I got up and went to the office, only a short walk away to meet all the staff.

In Senegal it's very important to say greet everybody. Not saying hello is the equivalent of denying somebody's existence, so common practice in Dakar is to at least say "asalaa maalekum," followed by the Wolof greetings if you know them. I only know a couple lines now so I'll talk about that more later. Anyways, then I hung out in the office for a bit talking to volunteers and had the most amazing lunch I've had in a while. Spicy chopped rice with fresh vegetables and grilled spicy beef, eaten with a big spoon in a circle with other office workers on a mat, barefoot. A short nap later I was downtown, checking out the markets. Got some groceries for dinner and a cell phone with a Senegalese SIM card, so now I'm set on getting in touch with people in-country.

The last couple days I've just been hanging out, seeing a little more of the city, getting a few food items I might not be able to find where I'll be stationed, and meeting the other new volunteers. I was the first one in, so I got a bit of an advantage picking a bed and checking out the city. Now there's seven of us new volunteers in my orientation group, including two French girls (one of Senegalese origin), a Spanish guy, British guy, American girl and another American guy along with myself. We'll be heading out to Thiès, Senegal's second-largest city 45min-4hr from Dakar depending on traffic on Tuesday morning for the second day of orientation. Then Friday we're all headed either back to Dakar or to Mali, Guinea-Conakry, Guinea-Bissau, the Gambia, or the Fouta.

Other differences from Columbia, the Columbubble, Maryland:

We're fortunate enough at the houses to have Western toilets. The organization doesn't supply toilet paper because it's not commonly used here. Here's the bathroom I use on the roof of our house. Notice the possibility for great multi-tasking:



The shower is a little difficult to get to drip consistently and is cold, but at least Dakar isn't! There's definitely not much trash service here, so there's a lot of litter in the streets. Driving is another story.... the taxi drivers are crazy. They drive really beat-up Toyotas or Renaults. Nothing in the cars work, and sometimes you can feel parts scraping on the ground. You have to negotiate the price before you get in a taxi, and the drivers often ask women if they're married. Oh, and here's my washing machine (did my first load of laundry today):



By the way, I'm not really complaining about this stuff. My life here so far is definitely more simple than I'm used to but still much more privileged than the general population. I'm absolutely loving it. The people are so friendly, and although it's a huge culture shock (and thermic shock) going from Maryland to Dakar in January to spend the next six months here, I'm excited and can't wait to tell you more about it, inshallah!

3 days to go

Okay, a little more than 3 days to go and I'll be on a plane from Dulles to Dakar. Yes, nonstop, because Dakar is actually further West than all of Europe, it doesn't take too long to fly there. It's a stop for South African Airlines from Dulles, so it's much better than having to fly through Heathrow or wherever else you need to hit to get to East Africa.

I'll be heading straight to my orientation with Tostan International, who I'll be interning for for the next 6 months. They're a non-profit started by Molly Melching in Senegal in the 1970s. Since then, they've worked in 12 countries in Africa (This number varies because of conflict; it is not always possible to work in Somalia and Côte d'Ivoire). Melching and Tostan were featured in a chapter of the women's rights book Half the Sky for their soft approach to excision (French term) or female genital circumcision/cutting (FGC, the English term). This is a pretty graphic issue, so if you're somewhat squeamish then don't research this. If you're interested, here's a wikipedia page on the issue:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Female_genital_cutting

This is a phenomenon that I'll probably talk about more later in this blog, as I'm sure it'll arise in my work there. Otherwise, my work will mainly entail more administrative responsibilities, I think.... I'm still not completely sure what my day-to-day activities will consist of, but I think a lot of it will be translating documents from French to English and writing reports. These reports will essentially allow the bodies funding the various Tostan offices and centers in the Fouta region of Senegal to know what's going on. They'll serve both as educational tools and public relations, I think, for the United Nations offices, American Jewish World Service, and the other people who fund Tostan's activities. I'll also be teaching English and IT skills to the staff, and maybe get involved in some of the grassroots projects in the region.

More to come soon, before or after my arrival in Dakar. Take care,

Jonah

Hey all, I want to kick off my blog with a simple post because I don't have much time to write a longer one at the moment, but a more educational post will come soon. For now, I'll just tell you where I'll be living for the next 6+ months. I'm going to spend a little time in Dakar, the capital of Senegal, but I'll be stationed primarily in Ourossogui and Ndioum. These are two towns near Matam, close to the border with Mauritania in the Sahel, the southern region of the Sahara Desert. See the map at the bottom of the blog to see Dakar and Matam in Senegal. Dakar is the westernmost capital city in Africa, further West than all of Europe. Search on google if you want to find Senegal in the continental context.

Mamadou Niang, former Marseille striker, comes from the Fouta, the region in which Matam is found.




So does the (somewhat) famous singer Baaba Maal:




That's all for now, but I'll post again soon!