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:
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