My New Home, Hot Home

Wednesday, November 11

From the day I arrived in Senegal, this was what I had been waiting for, it was postind day for myself and the other 60 trainees in my stage.  It was the day our Peace Corp placement site would be revealed. It was when we would learn where we would be spending the next two years. I had a pretty good idea of where I wanted to be--in Saint-Louis on the northeastern coast of Senegal. A French colonial city, it had everything I wanted. And I was feeling optimistic as I milled around the basketball court with the 60 other trainees.

Here’s the way the placement reveal works. We all meet on the basketball court, which has a map of Senegal painted on it. Then, once everyone is there, we are each blindfolded and each of us, at the same time, is taken by the hand and let to the location on the map of our posting. Not directly of course; the hand holder pulled me around the map and spun me around a few times, but I never lost my sense of direction and I knew that eventually we were heading back toward the west coast, the northern west coast. And that’s where Saint-Louis is. So my hopes were high when I was stopped in place, facing eastward on the map. I knew I was near Saint Louis. But then I suddenly heard two trainees behind me, that is, closer to the coast. And I knew there weren’t more than two openings there. Sure enough, when the time came for us to take off our blindfolds I was standing right on top of a city named Louga. Close, but no cigar. Louga? I knew nothing about it.

Of course I did some research as soon as I could. The city is about 100k from Saint Louis and 60k due east of the coast. You won’t find much about Louga on Wikipedia, or anywhere online for that matter. It is a fairly new city of 250,000 resident on the edge of the Sahel desert.

And then I went there. The next day. We all spread out to visit our sites. Some had to endure a 14 hour bus ride to reach theirs. Mine, fortunately was only about two hours to the north of Theis. The Peace Corps car dropped me at the bus station in Louga where my ancienne (predecessor) was waiting. Ashlee and I grabbed a cab and headed into the city and her (soon to be my) place. Unlike most PCVs, I won’t be living with a family; I will have my own studio apartment, complete with a single gas burner and mini- fridge. (I am already dreaming of having a supply of cold water!) It's the kind of place you'd pay $2,000 a month rent for in the South Bronx. The bathroom has a decent shower and a western toilet. (Good thing because the squat toilets are killing my knees.) I also will have access to the roof.

Louga is a low, sprawling city with sand on the streets. There doesn’t seem to a building over two stories high. At its heart are three huge outdoor markets with vegetables and fish, fruit and meat, electronics, back packs, used clothing, mattresses—anything you could want, though none of it seems to be of very high quality.  We went to one to buy me a gym bag, and the zippers broke almost immediately.

But before that we went to lunch at my new family’s compound. There must have been 20 people there and i’m sure it will take me awhile to figure out all the relationships in the extended family. But they were all very welcoming and accepting of my pitiful Wolof.

I also got to meet some of the major agricultural players in town and am looking forward to getting back to learn from them.

Oh, almost forgot, while I was in Louga I got a haircut. I just picked the closest of may many barber shops. The barber turned out to be a young guy with a bit of English, but Ashlee was there too to help out with the Wolof. He was eager to please but couldn't quite figure out what to do with my long straight hair. He had obviously never cut a toubaab's hair before. Those trusty clippers of his just ' work, at least not until the gave me a once over with scissors. Eventually he figured it out--and insisted on trimming my beard too. It all turned out fine. A good haircut for 500 CFAs. That's one dollar if you're counting.

The content of this blog do not reflect the thoughts, philosophy or beliefs of the U.S. Peace Corps. The opinions are those of the author alone.

Good Vibrations

0ctober 21 Wednesday

It turned out to be a good day today even though I woke up feeling a bit sleep- deprived and had some stomach issues throughout the day. I started the day by watering the garden. It would have been nice to have a hose, but carrying watering cans for a half hour was not the worst thing. It reminded me of those quiet and peaceful early mornings watering the plants in the nursery where I worked in Vermont. I had a pretty good Wolof session with Sidy. He was very positive about my recitation. After lunch of ceebujen I took a short nap then had my room cleaned. Atta insisted that I lay in bed as she and the kids swept and scrubbed the floor. It really needed it. Then I went off to the cyber café. I still couldn’t get on his WiFi but did manage to send a couple of emails on his desktop machine. He also had found my missing water bottle. That was good. I had to rush home to take care of some digestive business, but found my clean-and-pressed laundry waiting for me. I feared it had been ruined by the pack of cigars found in the pocket after they went into the wash water. (Everything is washed and scrubbed by hand in big tubs on the patio, then hung out there to dry.) I’m supposed to do my own laundry, according the Peace Corps, but my family won’t hear of it.

When I came back from the garden at the end of the day I told my Senegal mom that I was feeling a bit feebar and pointed to my stomach. She asked it if was something I ate. I didn’t want her to think it was caused by her cooking so I mentioned that “Café touba la naan ci marse.” (I had a café touba in the market.) “No!” she said. “Don’t eat anything on the street. If you want a café touba or anything else you tell me and I will make it.” My dad reiterated at dinner. (Very nice of them, but  I still want to try the town’s one and only restaurant.)

File that under: life is irony. I remember how I used to complain that Lauren wanted to eat out at night and telling her that I was just as happy to cook and eat in all the time. Watch out what you wish for. Another bald statement exposed for what it was. But tonight we had a treat, something like beef stew, and a very peppery stew at that. It was delicious. It was the first time we’ve had red meat here with the exception of the occasional spam.

The content of this blog do not reflect the thoughts, philosophy or beliefs of the U.S. Peace Corps. The opinions are those of the author alone.

The Change in the Weather is Not Gonna be Extreme

Sunday October 19

If interesting and unfamiliar and amazing things are happening all around you but there is no way to send words or pictures to anyone are they really happening? Of course they are. But I am really jonesing to tell people about Senegal-- all the little things that happen daily, like having tater tot sandwiches for breakfast. Or the way they will serve any crazy thing they can get their hands with Mbouro (bread) for breakfast, like mayonnaise, fish paste, margarine, onion sauce, spam--but never peanut butter, not in my house.  Some families serve a Nutella kind of thing but not mine.

When we first got here a few kids came to the garden and they were interested in what we were doing and happy to help. More and more kids kept arriving. Someone started paying them off in candy. Today, they were there making mischief and said they wouldn’t leave unless we paid them. I tried to call our host national language instructor, but while I was on the phone I told the kids I was calling the gendarmes and they scattered.

I think the weather really is cooling down a bit. Today there was a strong breeze and turned it into the kind of day in which you didn’t sweat just standing still. I had a tough language day in which he asked each of us open-ended questions such as "Kan mooy Warren?" Who is Warren? Or what will you do in Theis? But being on the spot as I tried to figure them out seemed very helpful. That, I think, is what the exam format will be like.

Oh, I found the mysterious Internet café up at the market place. I just went snooping around until I found a storefront with a number of computer workstations on table, and a price list on the wall. The owner came out and we talked in English, French and Wolof. He was very helpful. Said he would welcome me anytime. That I should consider it my home. He loves to talk to Americans, but unfortunately the power was out at the time. I will check it again tomorrow.

The content of this blog do not reflect the thoughts, philosophy or beliefs of the U.S. Peace Corps. The opinions are those of the author alone.

Friday? What’s That?

Friday, October 16.

I miss the good old American Fridays with the happy anticipation that goes along with them: the happy hour after work, the relaxing night with a Netflix movie on, the sleeping in the next day. Here there is nothing to look forward to but studying, working in the garden, and… heat. We have been working and studying for nearly 20 days straight now, with no break in sight. Today we went to the garden at 9:00 to water the transplants we put in last night. Then I went to Sidi’s at 11:00 for a two hour lesson, then lunch of ceebujen, then back to the garden at 3:00 to plan out the nursery bed, back to Sidi’s at 4:00 for another two hour lesson, then back to the garden from 6:00 'til 7:00 when it got too dark to work. That was one full day, and I am feeling it.

It will be one week until our first language exam and the pressure is beginning to mount. So I am trying to learn many new words and grammar rules every day.

Saturday 10/18

This is my new favorite time of the day. The highpoint of my day is when we finish in the garden around 6:00 or 7:00. (At 6:30 it will be full daylight and full dark by 7:00) I stop at the butik (boutique/deli/bodega) for a lukewarm soda from the “cooler”. I drink it down, go home and take a cold shower, put on clean clothes, turn on the fan in my room and stretch out on the bed. That’s as good as it gets here in Bayakh.

We’ve just about finished up the garden work. We had a visitor today, a farmer from the next village over. He was very curious about what we were up to. I managed to keep up a conversation in Wolof/English/French.

I hadn’t been feeling well for few days: dizzy and lightheaded in the garden. Dehydration? Maybe, so I mixed up a liter of dehydration salts and that seemed to help just a little. I had a slight fever last night and I realized what was going on… a sinus infection. I got a good night’s sleep last night and feel much better today.

The heat, I can deal with. The garden and language work too. They are both intense but manageable. 

Funny how I talked the talk about how I would be happy to be unplugged. Well, I’m not. I thought I would enjoy the radio silence and a dearth of email and facebook posts, etc. but I guess I’m lonely and homesick. I miss contact with my kids and my friends. I worry that they worry when they don’t hear from me.

The content of this blog do not reflect the thoughts, philosophy or beliefs of the U.S. Peace Corps. The opinions are those of the author alone.