Immersion in Bayagh

Last Tuesday, about noon, they loaded all 64 of us onto Peace Corps buses. Everyone had two backpacks or suitcases, plus a water filter, which is about the size of a tall bucket, plus an actual bucket in case bucket showers were the norm at out CBT sites. The idea was to post each of us with a family who would help us with our language and our cultural adaptation. We also had language trainers from the center with us (one per three trainees.) and we had ag projects to complete while there.

We headed out the main road toward Dakar and after about a half hour made a right onto a paved road. After about maybe 10 k we got to our village of Bayagh. It is, I guess, a medium size village. It’s basically a line of shops on either side of the road—made of stucco or cinder blocks or corrugated metal. Many of them seem to be plumbing supplies and hardware. There are a few salons, a watch repair place in a tin shack, one tiny bodega where you can get semi-cool cokes. Also women squatting on the sidewalk selling vegetables or roasting peanuts in wok like pans filled with sand.

The bus stopped in the center of town and we got off. My Mom was there to meet me. She’s probably in her 30s. She was dressed in traditional garb including a headdress. She led me home, down a steep and rutted sandy street just a short ways to their house.

It’s a really nice place. My family-mom, dad, three daughters and three sons-seem to be upper middle class. The house has four bedroom, a kitchen, three outdoor areas and a real bathroom with a squat toilet and a real shower. One of the outdoor areas is used for cooking over a charcoal stove. Another is where they wash and dry clothes. They have a gas stove in the kitchen but they never seem to use it.

My room is a good size with a window a bed and a few hooks on the wall. (I went out and bought a fan the second day and it changed my life.)

Shortly after I arrived lunch was served in Senegal style. Everyone sits around a large aluminum bowl on the floor. In the bowl, typically, is rice or millet or couscous with a sauce (generally a kind of onion gravy, and a protein in the middle. The mom then breaks up the meat or chicken or fish with her fingers and tosses a bit in front of everyone. She eats with her hands. (Well, right hand only) but the rest of our family uses a spoon. Dinner is much the same and so in the next days lunch with just the grain and the protein alternating. Always bread too. It’s a carb heavy diet. It’s always a bit spicy. Very tasty though kind of monotonous. Breakfast is always French bred with either that onion gravy or margarine or mayonnaise (!). I’ll be bringing peanut butter next time. (We are going back again Wednesday and will alternate between there and the training site for the rest of the time.)

The family is really nice and eager to help. Lucky for me the mom and dad both speak English and French. While there we had 5 or 6 hours of language training a day and spent several hours in the garden – which we are creating at a school – making beds, compost, etc.… the school kids are fascinated by us and were very willing to help out.

In the evenings I sit with the family for a while as they mostly watch Indian soap operas dubbed into French. I spend time studying and reading and usually went to bed early.

The main issue for me there is that there is nowhere to go: no cafes or coffee shops . My buddy (from Worcester) and I found one restaurant in town but it looked kind of sketchy might give it a go this weekend.

The town—and all of Senegal that I have seen so far is sand. There’s no grass or lawns in Bayagh and hardly any trees. My family’s house is on a sand alley. There is a big empty sand lot behind the house, not sure if it’s my family’s property or not. That’s where the kids gather to play soccer and lots of chickens hand out. And where my “dad” parks his truck. (yes, he has a 4-wheel drive pickup!) The lot, like all lots and roads and alley’s in town and covered with trash: plastic, rags, paper, etc… so I’ve decided that my secondary project will be designed around clean up and recycling. I already have an idea for a marketing plan. I’m going to write a children’s story in Wolof called “Muus ci Mbuus” that translates to—not the cat in the hat, but the Cat in the Plastic Bag. You can only imagine what kind of adventures he will have.